#(see also: the hostess in midnight) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

saythenametotheworld · 17 days ago

Text

is it new year's yet? | l.mk (18+)

Synopsis: Coming home for Christmas is your least favorite part of the year. But this time, you're up for a pleasant surprise when you get introduced to your cousin's friend from uni, Mark Lee. Genre: holiday fling, smut Pairing: Mark Lee x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit content (18+) Notes: 9.7k words. Listening to is it new year's yet by Sabrina Carpenter. A little late holiday treat for you all! I miss writing for Mark sm. I'm on vacation so I've been MIA and will be MIA for a few more days. ALSO if you see a different version of this fic on a different account for a different idol, it's me. I have decided to open a different blog for other groups. xoxo, cal.

ENJOY!

Holidays are for family reunions and coming home to bond with your loved ones. Bullshit. You’d rather be anywhere but here.

Here being your family home, bright and cheerful with Christmas decors and merry chatter from relatives and family friends. The sweet smell of cinnamon and gingerbread permeated the halls and the Christmas songs playing from the speakers your mother had strategically placed around the house were grating on your nerves, making you dizzier than the champagne you were drinking.

You didn’t hate your family—far from it. You loved them with every fiber of your being. But that didn’t make the family tradition of hosting a horde of relatives and family friends for Christmas any less unbearable.

Home. Familiar, warm, and somehow... suffocating.

You should be used to it by now, considering how your mother had always made it her mission to be the ultimate hostess. What might have seemed magical when you were a kid now felt so unnecessary. As you grew older, it became harder to tolerate the endless stream of insufferable relatives and their even more insufferable commentary.

“Did you lose weight?” a distant aunt asked, her eyes raking over you like you were a mannequin in a store window. “You need to eat more. You’re so skinny.”

Just call me fat, why don’t you? you thought to yourself, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “I know. I did it on purpose,” you replied curtly before tossing back the last of your champagne. You didn’t wait for her reaction. You simply walked away, the bubbles fizzing in your throat as you searched for somewhere to hide.

You wove your way through the crowd, dodging overly familiar pats on the shoulder and sidelong glances that screamed When are you graduating? or Where’s your boyfriend?

The living room was packed with people swapping stories you’d heard a hundred times before. The scent of pine from the overdecorated tree blended with the warm spice of wine and sugary sweetness from the dessert table. The whole atmosphere was so perfect and festive that it made it a little hard to breathe.

You needed air. Or another drink. Although, both are fine too.

In the kitchen, you poured yourself another glass of champagne and leaned against the counter, fishing out your phone to scroll mindlessly. A part of you considered texting Yeonjun—the guy you couldn’t stop thinking about. He was probably back in the city, having the time of his life at some glittering party—champagne in hand, gorgeous people all around, someone to kiss at midnight.

“Fuck this,” you muttered under your breath, stuffing your phone back in your pocket as you walked out of the kitchen.

Rounding the corner too fast, you slammed into someone—a steady grip caught your arm before the champagne could spill.

“Easy there,” he said, his voice low and warm. You glanced up and found a stranger: jet-black hair with an undercut, sharp jawline, and an easy smile that contrasted with the chaos around you. He looked your age, maybe a bit older.

“Thanks,” you muttered, eyeing him curiously. You could not remember seeing him anywhere before, so naturally, your immediate assumption was that he was a guest’s plus one. He could be a cousin’s boyfriend or something and you were just about to ask him that when your cousin Hendery appeared beside him.

“Oooh, look who showed up!” Hendery said, tilting his head with that playful glint you always found irritating.

You rolled your eyes. “I always show up.”

“Of course you do.” Hendery leaned against the wall, arms crossed and grinning. “You hate it here, don’t you?”

You tilted your head at him, pretending to think. “What gave it away? My overflowing enthusiasm?”

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Hendery teased. “A little family bonding with your favorite aunts would be nice. Aren’t you supposed to pack them a gift each?”

You drained the last of your champagne, letting the fizz linger as you looked at your cousin. “I’d rather die.”

Hendery laughed, nudging Mark with his elbow. “This is my cousin. She’s the resident Grinch. But don’t worry; she’s fun when she wants to be.”

“I can hear you,” you gloated.

“I know,” he said, his grin widening. “So? Are you going to spend the whole night sipping champagne like a miserable bore?”

You gave him a flat look. “Oh my god. You can read minds?” you deadpanned.

“Well, perfect! You’re already dressed for the occasion,” he quipped, gesturing vaguely at your casual attire. He laughed but stopped when you didn’t even crack a smile. “Tell you what, Mark and I are heading out. You’re welcome to join us if you want to.”

“No.”

“Come on. It’s gonna be fun.” Before you could refuse again, Hendery slung an arm around your shoulder and turned to Mark. “She’ll come. She just likes to play hard to get.”

“I really won’t,” you retorted, trying to shrug him off. “I don’t feel like tailing you two all night.”

“What else are you gonna do—sit in a corner and glare at people?”

You rolled your eyes, but the answer was obvious. Staying inside meant more questions, more relatives, more everything you were trying to avoid.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But if you drag me into something ridiculous—”

“You’ll have fun. Promise,” Hendery interrupted and then turned to Mark. “She’s coming.”

Mark’s smile was easy, almost reassuring. “No pressure. It’ll be chill.”

You smirked. “You clearly don’t know Hendery.”

With that, Hendery led the way, practically bouncing out the door. You followed, stuffing your hands into your coat pockets as Mark fell into step beside you.

The winter air hit you like a slap, crisp and biting, slicing through the lingering scents of cinnamon and pine. It was a relief, though, clearing your head from the stifling warmth of the house. You walked down the quiet streets with Hendery, Mark, and a few friends you used to hang out with growing up. They led the way, cracking jokes and tossing playful banter back and forth, while you stuck closer to the back with Mark.

“I can’t believe they’re still dating,” you muttered, eyeing a pair in front of you.

“Who? Them?” Mark asked, making you glance briefly at them.

You nodded. “They started dating when we were sophomores in high school. And they’re still together.”

Mark hummed. “They must really like each other then.”

You grimaced, eyeing the lovey-dovey couple in front. “I don’t know. They used to break up and make up. It was exhausting. Everyone thought they’d break up for good after graduation. But, well… here we are.”

“Guess they like running in circles,” Mark said lightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He glanced sideways at you. “What about you? Do you think people like that can actually work out?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure if the question was casual or probing. “I think it depends on how much drama you can stomach. Personally, I’d rather avoid it altogether.”

Mark tilted his head thoughtfully. “No drama, huh? That’s a pretty high bar for relationships.”

You smirked, knowing how ironic it was for you to say this despite having a relationship drama. “Tell me about it,” you mumbled.

It was easy to figure out Mark’s intentions. The whole time, he didn’t try to hide it, nor did he try to send mixed signals. It was pretty clear with how close he was standing beside you, how his shoulder almost brushed yours. The way Mark’s eyes lingered on you when you spoke, the way he tilted his head when you laughed, like he was committing the sound to memory. How, even when you weren’t talking, he stayed within arm’s reach, his gaze flickering to you every now and then. How his focus remained on you.

And then there was the way he leaned in just slightly when he made a comment, his voice low, his words meant only for you.

He was attentive in a way that surprised you, even in the most casual moments. As you explained how you and your friends used to kill time in this sleepy town—late-night drives to the lookout point, sneaking snacks into the single-screen movie theater, racing bikes down the old dirt trail—Mark listened with genuine curiosity, his eyes lighting up with every story.

“So, let me get this straight,” he said when you were alone at the swings. You sat comfortably on the swing while he pushed you gently. “Not only did you race down a hill that sounds like a death trap, but you’re telling me you were the reigning champion?”

You tilted your head, feigning offense. “Why do you sound so skeptical?”

“Oh, I believe you,” he said, his smirk widening. “I’m just wondering how many people you bribed to throw the race.”

You gasped playfully. “Excuse me, I won fair and square.”

“Sure you did.” His laughter was low, warm, the kind that made you feel comfortable with him.

You smirked. “Why else would I bring it up? Go ask them.”

He chuckled, nodding his head. “You seem really confident… I believe you.”

You were quiet for a while, with only the creaking sound of swing filling the silence. The tip of your shoes dragged lightly with every swing, carving the damp ground underneath.

Mark asked after the silence stretched out. “So, is that all you did for fun around here?”

“Pretty much,” you said with a shrug. “Lame, huh?”

“Not at all. It’s simple but it has its charm,” he said softly, pausing as he held the swing tight to stop it. “It says a lot about you though.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him with a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Are you calling me charming?”

“Maybe,” he said, his voice light but his gaze unwavering. “What would you do if I was?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Depends. Is this small-town charm talking, or do you actually mean it?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Well, aren’t you a smooth talker?” you teased, though your voice had softened, your usual sharpness dulled by the way Mark was looking at you.

He grinned, leaning just a little closer, his voice dropping lower. “Only with the right company.”

You held his gaze. “Right company, huh?” you murmured, your heart thudding as you tilted your head, meeting his eyes.

He smiled faintly, his voice dipping lower. “You know I mean it.”

His gaze lingered on you, his head tilting ever so slightly as he leaned closer. You barely noticed the chill in the air anymore, not when the space between you seemed to shrink. His hand brushed the chain of the swing, his fingers close enough to graze yours. His breath mixed with yours, the faint scent of his cologne and the crisp night air filling the gap. Slowly, as if testing the waters, he leaned in, his focus entirely on you.

Your fingers twitched on the swing’s chain, almost brushing his. His lips hovered near yours now, and for a moment, everything else faded away—

“Yo, there you are!” Hendery’s voice broke through the stillness, loud and completely unbothered.

You flinched, the spell breaking as you turned toward the sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel. Hendery and the others were strolling toward you, their laughter cutting through the quiet.

Mark straightened quickly, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as he ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, that’s too bad,” he murmured, his voice low enough just for you. “I thought we’d finally lost them.”

A quiet laugh escaped you, even as warmth lingered on your cheeks. “I didn’t know we were doing that.”

He shrugged, a glint of mischief in his eyes, so you swatted his chest lightly, the playfulness easing the tension.

Hendery raised an eyebrow as he approached, his gaze flicking between you and Mark. “What, were you two having a moment or something?”

“Not even close,” you shot back, sharper than you intended. “What do you want?”

“Lori was asking if your mom baked a fruitcake this year,” he said, pointing toward your friend Lori.

You glanced at her, catching her expectant grin. “You know what,” you said, rising to your feet, “she did. You should grab some before it’s gone.”

Lori and the others cheered. Though your mom’s fruitcake wasn’t your favorite—too sweet for your taste—you still felt a swell of pride knowing it was the highlight of every Christmas. It was this pride that made you wanna bring them over, so with Hendery leading your group, you headed back to your house, noisy and in high spirits.

Like opposite sides of magnets, you and Mark found each other again and fell behind the rest of the group. He leaned into your ear as he asked, “Are we gonna pick up where we left off?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Depends on how charming you are for the rest of the night.”

He held your gaze, his smile softening. “Challenge accepted.”

You felt your cheeks heat up under his gaze, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you let the confidence he’d drawn out of you take hold. “You’ve been following me all night. You like me, don’t you?”

Mark didn’t even bother denying it. His smile widened, his voice steady as he replied, “Can you blame me?”

You chuckled. “Don’t fall for me, though. I’d hate to break your heart once the holidays are over,” you told him, grinning playfully before walking faster to rejoin your friends.

Mark stayed back for a moment, watching you. Too late, he thought. You really should’ve warned him sooner.

“If this was a uni party, someone would’ve spiked the eggnog already,” you mumbled, your eyes scanning the room filled with family, friends, and all the usual holiday chaos.

Mark’s voice was low beside you, cutting through the noise. “Really?”

You nodded, not looking at him. “Oh yeah. If you want to survive the night here, you have to make your own fun.” You shot him a side glance, half-smiling. “Otherwise, it’s just... this.”

For a brief moment, Mark said nothing, but you could feel him shifting beside you. Then, in a voice laced with amusement and mischief, he said, “I’ll be right back.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Alarmed, you grabbed his arm and yanked him back before he could get too far. “No, Mark!”

He turned toward you, his grin dangerous. “What?”

“No, seriously,” you whispered urgently, trying to keep your voice down. You scanned the room quickly, then pointed across it with dramatic flair. “Old people.”

Mark’s brow furrowed, clearly confused, so you leaned in just a little closer. “That’s my great-uncle,” you said, nodding toward an elderly man in a faded cardigan who was snoozing away in the rocking chair. “He’s 84 and can’t have alcohol. But he’s obsessed with eggnog. Let’s not ruin this for him.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, fighting back a laugh. “That’s not so Grinch of you.”

“I make exceptions for people I like,” you said, your voice dropping to a playful whisper.

His smile deepened, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Is that so?” he asked, teasing but warm. “What exceptions have you made for me so far?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your smile from widening. “I’m not answering that.”

“So there is something, then?” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek, as if the answer were hidden in your response.

“I’m not answering that either.” You chuckled, taking a step back with an exaggerated sigh. You started heading toward the patio, but Mark’s long strides quickly caught up, his footsteps just behind you.

The cold night air hit your skin as you stepped onto the patio, but the firepit’s warmth immediately enveloped you. Your friends and cousins gathered around, roasting marshmallows and swapping stories. You sat on the same bench as Mark, his presence adding warmth and comfort. You joined the conversations with the others, while occasionally having your own little talks with Mark.

The more you talked, the closer he leaned toward you, his eyes never quite leaving your face as if he were soaking in everything you said. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the heat of both the fire and his proximity.

As the night wore on, the laughter around the firepit thinned out, your companions dispersing one by one to retire for the night. Soon, it was just you, Mark, and Hendery—both guys occupied with something on Hendery’s phone.Left to your own devices, you scrolled aimlessly through social media, eventually landing on a friend’s Instagram story.

Yeonjun appeared in the group photo, looking happy and festive at what seemed like a rowdy party. You checked your inbox, hoping for a message, but he hadn’t even read the last one you’d sent. A sigh slipped from your lips louder than you intended, and Mark glanced up at you.

“You okay?” he asked quietly as you quickly turned your screen off. His cheeks were flushed, likely from the cold and the alcohol, and his eyes looked a little sleepy from the late hour. The sight of him brought a comforting warmth to your chest.

“I’m fine,” you mouthed, holding his hand that rested on your arm.

Suddenly, Hendery shot up from his seat with a sharp exhale. “Let’s get out of here. I’m about to lose it with this Mariah Carey song they’ve got on repeat.”

“You go ahead. I’m gonna stick around for a bit,” Mark replied, squeezing your arm before rubbing his thumb against your jacket.

Hendery noticed your joined hands and narrowed his eyes at the two of you. “You guys are getting cozy.”

“Are we?” you teased, glancing at Mark and shrugging. You leaned against his chest playfully and added, “I hardly noticed.”

Mark played along, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. Hendery shook his head, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “If you’re gonna have sex, don’t do it in our room.”

The comment made you roll your eyes. “This is my house, Hendery. We can do it in my bedroom!”

Hendery didn’t respond, only raised a middle finger at you two before walking away. You laughed, watching him disappear into the house. But beside you, Mark had stopped grinning, his expression shifting to something more serious, his eyes wide with shock.

You raised an eyebrow. “What? I was just joking.”

Mark blinked a few times, looking away as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know.” His voice was a little more strained, and you noticed a blush creeping up his neck.

You couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Did you think I was serious?” you asked, leaning in just a little closer.

Mark turned his head slightly, his eyes flickering toward you for a brief moment before he fixed his gaze on the fire. “Not at all,” he replied quickly.

“Oh? So you’re not interested?” you pressed, enjoying the sight of him flustered.

“I didn’t say that,” he responded too eagerly, too quickly.

The sudden shift in his tone caught you off guard. You hesitated for a moment, watching him carefully before you let out a soft laugh. “Okay,” you said, wanting to ease the tension. “I was just messing with you. Relax.”

Mark didn’t answer immediately, but you saw his posture stiffen, his hand slipping from your shoulder as he cleared his throat again. The air between you two felt thicker now, charged with something neither of you wanted to bring up.

You let the silence hang there for a few moments before turning to look at the house, your smile a little softer. “Anyway,” you muttered, standing up, “let’s get back inside.”

Mark didn’t say anything as he followed you, the air between you was thick with tension, but neither of you said much as you both walked toward the staircase leading up to the upper floors. It was past midnight. You had intended to hang out with him a bit more, but the night suddenly started to catch up with you after that awkward exchange with Mark.

It shouldn’t be a surprise. He clearly wanted you, at least based on how he’d been flirting with you all night and how you almost kissed at the playground earlier. And to be honest, you were entertaining the idea of a holiday fling with Mark. He was very attractive and he’d done nothing to raise any red flags so far. So why did the sudden sexual tension seem to make things awkward between you?

As you reached the hallway, you turned to him with a small smile. “Well, guess it’s time for me to call it a night,” you said, your voice a little quieter than usual.

Mark nodded, but there was something in his expression that suggested he wasn’t ready to say goodnight just yet. “Yeah… sure,” he replied, his eyes focused on you.

You both stopped in front of your door and there was a silence that stretched longer than either of you anticipated. When you reached for the doorknob, Mark didn’t say anything, though you could see the dejected look in his eyes that he failed to mask with the smile he was wearing.

“See you in the morning?” you suggested, offering him something to look forward to despite the seemingly disappointing end to the night. “That is, if you’re still here by then,” you added, a low key attempt at asking what his plans were for tomorrow.

Mark smiled warmly. “I might have volunteered to be tomorrow’s Santa Claus, so I think I’d still be here.”

You chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “Are you serious?”

“No,” he chimed with a playful grin, reaching for your hand and brushing his fingers lightly across your skin.

The touch was so small, yet it felt electric. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. His eyes locked with yours, holding a silent intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. You found yourself leaning in, just a little bit closer, your breath shallow.

“Mark, I—” you began, only to cut yourself off because you didn’t really know what you were gonna say. Or if you should even say anything at all.

But then you both understood without words. Your nerves seemed to settle, and without another sound, Mark leaned in, his lips pressing gently against yours.

It was soft, almost questioning at first, but the moment it happened, everything else seemed to fade into the background. The lingering discomfort from the teasing, the unsaid words—everything disappeared. For that one exhilarating moment, there was nothing but the warmth of him against you.

When the kiss broke, you both stood there, breathless, eyes wide. You let out a nervous laugh, still trying to gather your thoughts. “That didn’t just happen,” you chuckled.

Mark’s gaze softened, his lips curling up into a small, almost sheepish smile. “Was that too fast?” he questioned playfully.

You exhaled a laugh, shaking your head. “Not really, but… let’s just pretend it didn’t happen,” you said, trying to play it cool, but your heart was still racing.

He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Good idea.”

You stood there for a whole minute, staring at each other in the quiet, with only the faint sound of Christmas carol from the living room filling the silence. “Good idea,” you echoed quietly, but your eyes were fixed on his lips, plump and inviting.

Before you knew it, you were kissing again, this time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, the kind that made your knees a little weak. His hands settled gently on your waist, making you hyper aware of the way your bodies are pressed against each other. For a moment, you let yourself forget about everything else—the holiday chaos, your family, Yeonjun.

When he pulled back slightly, his gaze was intense, searching yours. “You good?” he rasped, his breath warm against your face.

“Totally,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back in for another kiss.

You kicked your bedroom door open, tugging him inside without breaking the kiss. In no time, you found your back pressed against the wall right by the door, Mark’s lips ravaging yours with a kiss that made you go feral.

When his hand slipped under your shirt, you held it tightly, debating whether to let him go there—caught between wanting to retreat and wanting to give in. As your hesitation stretched, Mark took it as his cue to pull away—not completely, just enough to press his forehead against yours and cup your cheeks

“Is that a ‘no’?” he whispered, his voice laced with playful warmth.

You chuckled, still a little drunk on his lips—on him. “Are you hurt?” you asked playfully, though your concern was sincere. “Your ego, I mean.”

“Hmm, not really,” he replied, shivering under your touch when your hand ran from his arm to his neck. “I’m more hurt somewhere else.”

That made you laugh and hit his chest playfully. Mark caught your hand, keeping it on his chest as he closed his eyes—forehead still pressed against, his breathing steady but deep, his lips lifted slightly in a faint smile.

You planted a soft kiss on his lips and took a small step back. “Aren’t you leaving?”

Mark clutched his chest, feigning a pained look. “Ouch. I’m getting kicked out too? This is torture.”

The sound of Christmas carols from the living room filtered through the door, a reminder of the world just outside, but neither of you seemed in a rush to leave. Mark looked around your dimly lit bedroom, studying the space as if familiarizing himself.

“I don’t want to push my luck,” he said, his voice low as he glanced back at you. “But this is much cozier than the guest room I’m sharing with Hendery.”

You smirked, catching the insinuation in his statement. “It’s a no, Mark.”

Mark winced visibly. “Is that final?” he asked, making you chuckle.

“We only just met.”

He shrugged, nodding thoughtfully. “That’s fair. It was worth a shot, though.”

You had to admit, you considered it. Just the idea of being in Mark’s arms stirred something inside you. A feeling that, if you were being honest, you weren’t expecting to feel at all when you boarded the train home for the holidays. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the loneliness of the night creeping in, but right now, you felt more alive than you had in weeks.

Mark tilted your chin, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips once more. “Good night?”

“Good night,” you chimed, holding his hand against your cheek.

But he made no move to leave, he just stood there, staring at you as if it would physically pain him to look away. Then he leaned in for another kiss, and you were more than happy to oblige.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he teased, forehead pressing against yours.

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, rolling your eyes playfully, though your smile was soft, just a little more sincere now.

The next morning, breakfast unfolded in a much quieter manner than last night’s festivities with everyone still half-asleep and quietly eating. Across the table, Mark seemed perfectly at ease, though you couldn’t ignore the occasional glance he sent your way—or how your gaze sometimes lingered on him longer than it should.

Your mom’s attention was on him, which was understandable since he was the only new face around the dining table. Your mom said she didn’t get the chance to properly get to know him because yesterday was hectic. Mark didn’t seem to mind, he was polite and spoke with courteousness and a charming demeanor.

You got to know a few things about him from their conversation. He’s a Music major at the same university as Hendery, he’s Korean but was raised in Canada. And he came with Hendery because he couldn’t fly back home for Christmas.

“So, Mark,” your mom began to add as she reached for another piece of toast, her tone light but curious. “How do you know Hendery?”

You smirked, glancing at your cousin. “Yeah. You seem too cool to be hanging out with this dork.”

Mark glanced at Hendery, who was already grinning as if he knew what story Mark was going to tell. “We met during our first year,” Mark said, chuckling. “I was waiting for a class to start, and out of nowhere, he sat down next to me and just… started talking.”

“Talking about what?” your mom asked.

Mark hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… pigeons.”

“Pigeons?”

“Yeah,” Mark replied, his laugh a little sheepish. “He was convinced that pigeons were government drones or something, and he just kept going on about it. For like, twenty minutes. I thought he was messing with me, but he was dead serious.”

Hendery piped up from further down the table. “They are drones, by the way.”

The table burst into laughter, while you shot Hendery an incredulous look. “You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

Hendery looked unbothered. “Oh, I do. As a matter of fact—”

“Nevermind,” you interrupted, cutting him off. “Forget I asked.”

Mark was grinning. “Honestly, I didn’t know what to think at first, but it was kind of refreshing. Everyone else was so uptight, and here’s this guy just dropping pigeon conspiracies out of nowhere.”

Your mom laughed again, shaking her head. “Well, that’s one way to make a friend.”

“And now you’re stuck with him,” you teased, looking at Mark.

“Pretty much,” Mark agreed, his gaze flicking to you with a warm smile. “But hey, life’s never boring with Hendery around.”

You smirked. “You’re too kind. Just say he’s an idiot. He doesn’t mind.”

Hendery waved his fork in the air, scoffing at you. “Joke’s on you. Mark would never say something so mean.”

Mark shrugged. “Well, he’s kind of… an idiot.”

Hendery gasped dramatically. “What have you done to my friend?” he accused dramatically.

The conversation soon shifted from playful banter to lighter topics as the meal wound down. You mostly stayed quiet, stealing occasional glances at Mark, who somehow managed to charm your family without even trying. When breakfast ended, your mom handed you a towel. “You’re on dish duty today,” she said with a kind smile.

Mark stood without hesitation. “I’ll help.”

“Very gallant of you,” your mom quipped, her tone amused as she watched you carry the dishes away.

When your family was out of earshot, Mark leaned in close, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Figured I’d earn some points.”

You chuckled, shaking your head but not protesting as he followed you into the kitchen. He rolled up his sleeves with ease, taking the stack of plates from your hands and grinning like this was second nature to him. The two of you fell into a quiet rhythm at the sink, you rinsing while he dried.

“So,” he began after a moment, breaking the silence with his usual casual tone. “Your mom’s cool. Super curious, though.”

You snorted. “That’s her way of being welcoming. Consider yourself officially part of the family.”

“Is that so?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Guess that means I have to stick around,” he added, bumping his elbow against your arm.

You rolled your eyes, recognizing the playful hint. “Only as Dery’s friend, though.”

“What do you know? She might upgrade me to Son-in-Law once she sees my dish-drying technique,” he quipped, his shoulder brushing yours as he reached for a dish and started wiping with exaggerated flourishes.

“Son-in-Law is a pretty big leap from Nephew’s College Friend.”

He grinned with mock confidence. “I’m Mark Lee. Anything’s possible.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, Golden Boy.”

“You’ve got a pretty lively family,” Mark said after a pause, his tone softening. “They remind me of mine.”

“Oh, yeah?” You glanced at him, curious. “Big Christmas crowd?”

“Not as big as yours, but yeah. We do the whole chaos thing. My mom insists on playing charades after dinner, even though none of us can act to save our lives.”

You chuckled at the image, your hand brushing his as you passed him a plate. The touch lingered for half a second too long, enough to make your heart skip a beat. When you looked at him, Mark was already watching you, his voice dropping to something quieter as he leaned closer to whisper in your ear.

“By the way, you look lovely this morning.”

The compliment hit harder than it should’ve, leaving you momentarily flustered. You managed to play it off with a teasing smile. “Trying to earn more points?”

“Maybe,” he replied with a grin, leaning just a fraction closer.

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “Just dry the dishes.”

His soft laughter warmed the kitchen, the hum of last night’s lingering tension sparking again between you. By the time you handed him the final dish, there were no more “accidental” brushes—Mark took your hand outright, pulling you gently forward to steal a quick, mischievous kiss.

You gasped, heat rushing to your face as you slapped his arm. “You sneaky little—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in again, catching you in another kiss, quick and light, as if testing the waters. Then he turned back to the towel like nothing had happened, leaving you standing there, your thoughts a flustered jumble.

Exhaling a mock exasperated sigh, you gave up on playing it cool. Closing the small gap between you, you slipped your arms around his waist, letting your cheek rest briefly against his shoulder as he put the last plate away.

“This is nice,” he murmured, discarding the towel and turning to face you. His arms wrapped around you naturally, pulling you close. “Makes us look like boyfriend and girlfriend, don't you think?”

You scoffed, stepping back slightly. “Don’t push your luck.”

But when you turned to leave, Mark caught your wrist, pulling you back into a tight embrace. “Where are you going? Stay.”

You hesitated for half a second, then melted into his hold, your hands settling lightly on his waist. “What are we even doing?” you asked, chuckling lowly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, resting his chin lightly against your hair. “But it’s nice.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It kinda is.”

The moment was broken by the faint sound of singing from the direction of the main door. Mark’s brows rose as he glanced toward the sound. “Carolers?”

“Yeah,” you replied, pulling away and jogging toward the door. Outside, a small group of children and teenagers stood assembled like a festive choir, their voices harmonizing in cheerful Christmas melodies. Your family was already out there, listening with smiles on their faces.

Hendery noticed you standing beside him and leaned in. “Tell me why I can’t punch the carolers.”

You snorted. “Because it’s not their fault you didn’t pass the auditions.”

“Right,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Dude, what? You auditioned for this?” Mark asked, his expression bewildered.

Hendery smirked, unbothered by the attention. “I’m a man of many talents, my friend. They fumbled real bad when they decided to reject me.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, exasperated. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love me for it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. Christmas morning chaos, as always.

The rest of the day unfolded in a series of warm, chaotic moments. After the carolers left, your family gathered in the living room, eager to keep the festive spirit alive.

Someone—probably Hendery—suggested a game of charades. It started out as a reluctant group activity but quickly spiraled into uncontrollable laughter as your aunt wildly flailed her arms trying to mimic Jaws, and your dad confused everyone by acting out Titanic with interpretive dance.

Mark fit right in, his easy humor making him an absolute hit. He was surprisingly good at charades, though you suspected he was just adept at playing to the crowd. When it was your turn to act, he leaned over to Hendery and whispered something that had both of them laughing under their breath—probably a jab at your complete lack of acting skills. You shot them a mock glare, but it only made Mark grin wider.

When the game wound down, your mom announced it was time for gifts. You handed your parents the small, thoughtful presents you’d prepared—a new mug for your dad’s coffee addiction, and a designer brand scarf you’d picked up for your mom.

“You shouldn’t have,” your mom said with a soft smile, wrapping the scarf around her neck immediately.

Others exchanged gifts, too, and to your surprise, a few came your way: a box of chocolates from your aunt, fuzzy socks from Hendery, and a cute notebook from a younger cousin. You hadn’t expected anything from anyone other than your parents, so it warmed you more than you cared to admit.

Mark, meanwhile, didn’t seem fazed by the lack of a gift exchange between the two of you. Instead, as the wrapping paper chaos settled, he nudged your arm.

“Guess we forgot to plan this part, huh?” he said, his tone light but his eyes searching yours.

“Yeah, well,” you replied, shrugging, “we didn’t exactly have time for shopping.”

Mark leaned back against the couch, thoughtful. Then his face lit up with an idea. “How about we exchange something else?”

“Like what?” you asked, curious.

He reached for his phone, pulling up a playlist. “Music,” he said simply. “I’ll share a song I love, and you do the same. It’s like a tiny window into who we are.”

You hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Okay. You first.”

He scrolled through his playlist before handing you one of his airpods. The track was a mellow, soulful tune with heartfelt lyrics, and as it played, you found yourself surprised at how much it suited him—genuine, unpretentious, and quietly warm.

“I like it,” you admitted, handing the phone back.

“Your turn,” he said, leaning closer as if to make sure he wouldn’t miss a beat.

You picked something a little more upbeat but with a nostalgic edge. The second it started, Mark grinned, nodding along to the rhythm. “Good choice. I can see why you like it.”

For the rest of the evening, the two of you exchanged little pieces of yourselves—stories, favorite movies, quirks. It wasn’t the traditional gift exchange, but it felt like something better, something that fit the budding connection between you.

Later, as the family settled down for a Christmas movie, Mark ended up beside you on the couch. The warmth of him sitting close felt comforting, and somewhere in the middle of Love Actually, his hand found yours under the blanket draped over your laps. It wasn’t showy or obvious; no one else noticed.

As the movie played on, you felt your phone buzzing on your lap. You picked it up in a heartbeat, a force of habit that made you feel a little pathetic. Letting out a sigh, you tucked your phone away, refusing to check what the notification was about—or who it was from.

Mark leaned closer, his voice low but curious. “Who is he?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“The guy,” he clarified. “The one who keeps making you wait for him.”

You chuckled nervously. “There is no guy.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. You sighed. “Fine. There is—was, actually. I think I’m done waiting for him.”

“Why is that?”

You tilted your head slightly, taking a very good look at the beautiful man before you. A smile crept across your lips. Why, he asked? It was because you met him—Mark Lee, who wanted you and made it clear. Mark Lee, who gave you signals and acted on them. Mark Lee, who not only spoke honestly about how much he liked you but also went out of his way to show it. Mark Lee, who gave you more in two days than Yeonjun had in three months.

“You staring at me like that is making me wanna kiss you right now,” Mark said softly, cutting through your reverie.

You grinned. “Do it then.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His lips brushed yours, warm and soft, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

Across from you, Hendery grimaced, letting out an exaggerated groan. “Guys. Just get a room already.”

You pulled back, laughing, your cheeks warm with embarrassment. Mark didn’t seem fazed, his smirk playful as he leaned closer, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Ignore him,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You giggled, the giddiness bubbling up despite yourself. “He’s right, though,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “We should probably get a room.”

Mark’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Okay,” he said, as if it was the easiest decision in the world. “I’d never say no to that.”

Hendery let out another theatrical groan from across the room, muttering something about needing bleach for his eyes. But neither of you paid him any attention as you shared a knowing glance, the warmth between you now impossible to ignore.

Laughter spilled from your lips as you and Mark slipped out of the living room to the quiet halls upstairs. The muffled sounds of the movie still playing below faded with every step. Mark stayed close, his hand brushing yours until he tugged you gently back, spinning you to face him.

“Come here,” he murmured, stealing another kiss, his lips warm against yours.

You giggled, pulling away just enough to tease him. “Have some restraint, will you?”

He grinned, leaning in to whisper in your ear, his voice low and mischievous. “That’s too much to ask of me, you know?”

Your laughter filled the empty corridor as you took a step back, only for Mark to chase after you. His hands found your waist, pulling you close before kissing you again, slower this time, his lips lingering like he had all the time in the world.

By the time you reached your bedroom door, your cheeks ached from smiling, and your heart was racing. You kissed him there, leaning against the doorframe, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands rested firmly on your hips. The kiss deepened, heat building between you as your breath hitched.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made you both freeze. You pulled apart to see your old uncle shuffling past, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing as he continued down the hall.

Mark pressed his forehead against yours, biting back a laugh. “Think he’ll tell your mom?”

You snorted, pushing him lightly. “Does it matter? Bet everyone knows there’s something between us by now.”

“Touche.”

With a shared grin, you twisted the doorknob and pulled him inside. The door clicked shut behind you as you stumbled into the room, your lips finding his again in the quiet.

His kiss was unhurried, deliberate—gentle hands cradling your face as his lips moved against yours. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, the intensity of his gaze making your breath hitch. His touch trailed to your chin, guiding your head slightly as his lips pressed softly along your jaw.

You tilted your head instinctively, granting him access, and he didn’t waste the opportunity. His kisses wandered down to your neck—soft brushes, playful nips, and teasingly light touches. Each one sent sparks skittering across your skin, your pulse quickening under his attention.

When his tongue flicked against the sensitive spot beneath your ear, you giggled, stepping back slightly. The sound was as much a reaction to the ticklish sensation as it was to the heat pooling low in your belly.

“Sorry,” he said, his warm laugh brushing against your skin. “I thought you’d like it.”

“Oh, I like it,” you admitted, brushing your hair aside to bare your neck again. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

His fingers lightly traced the column of your neck. “Why not?”

“I’m… ticklish,” you said shyly, rolling your eyes to downplay your embarrassment.

Mark chuckled, the sound rich and low, sending butterflies racing in your stomach. His smile softened as he leaned in, teasing, “Noted.”

You sighed dramatically, unable to keep the playful glint out of your eyes. “Did we come up here just so you could tease me like this, or…?”

His eyes narrowed, his expression turning mock-exasperated. “Dude, why are you ruining the moment?” he asked, pulling you by the nape of your neck for another kiss. A deep one—heated, fervent, intoxicating, leaving you heady and utterly captivated.

Carefully, he lowered you down the bed, his lips not leaving yours. With one swift motion, he pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside. Then he paused, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

Desire burned in his eyes—raw and unmistakable—leaving no doubt about how much he wanted you.

“Well? Don’t just stand there and stare,” you whined cutely, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment but trying to keep your composure.

Mark exhaled sharply, crawling on the bed to kiss you again. “Can’t help it.”

His lips traveled the length of your neck and collarbone, nipping and sucking, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. With his mouth, he traced the line between your breasts, down to your stomach, until he reached your navel. Mark didn’t stop there. He undid your jeans and tugged it down before pressing his nose on your sex and taking a long sniff.

“Mark,” you whispered, the pressure from his nose making your body burn with anticipation.

He knew exactly what he was doing, pushing your underwear aside and licking a stripe at the pooling wetness between your legs. He continued with expertise, making you writhe and moan in ecstasy. You tried to close your legs when the stimulation became too much, but Mark’s grasp of your thighs were tight, prying your legs open so he could continue what he came to do. All you could do was whimper and grab a handful of his hair.

Your mind was screaming for him to stop, but your mouth could only utter his name as your hips bucked forward, eager for more.

Then he suddenly stopped, leaving you momentarily confused. He came back up, hovering over you with a proud smile on his face. You thought he was done but before you could utter a word, two of his fingers slipped into your cunt, making you gasp.

Mark didn’t say anything, he just grinned wider, seemingly proud of how good he was making you feel. His fingers slid in and out in a steady pace, growing more rapid and urgent the more he saw your face contorting with pleasure and euphoria.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, your back arching as you felt the familiar knot in your belly. “Don’t stop!”

And then came a euphoric wave engulfing your entire being. You froze for a moment, your mouth gaping open as you relished the momentary high that washed over you. Mark’s fingers were still inside you as he kissed your forehead.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he lilted before capturing your lips in a fervent kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you met his kiss with a hunger that bordered on desperation. Everything else faded, and before you knew it, the two of you were naked on the bed, moving together like it was the only thing that mattered.

The air was thick with the sounds of your shared passion—your breathless moans, his deep groans, and the unmistakable sound of skin slamming against skin. Mark was a perfect fit, his every thrust reaching a depth that had spiraling into an irrational desire for more. More, as though he hadn’t already completely consumed you.

Your fingers dug into his back, your grip tightening with every surge of pleasure. When he pinned your wrists above your head, your body arched instinctively, your hands grasping at the sheets as you gasped for him to keep going. When his teeth nipped at the sensitive curve of your neck, your entire body lit up, every nerve alive with overwhelming pleasure. And when he murmured your name, his voice rough and breathless, it was enough to push you closer to the edge, leaving you lost in a desperate, dizzying need for him.

Mark was a vice. He unraveled you, body and mind, until nothing existed but the maddening ache of him and the desperate, spiraling desire to never let this moment end.

“Oh, Mark.”

“What do you want, baby?” he asked in a low, deep and raspy voice sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

“Harder, Mark. Please.” you cried out, not even caring to hide how needy you were.

“Fuck,” he grunted, spurred on by the need in your voice. “You’re so...”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead, he kissed your lips and picked up his pace. Rocking with more force and intensity. Drilling deeper with every thrust. Fucking you senseless until you were crying out his name and begging him not to stop.

The knot in your core coiled tighter with every thrust, your body trembling beneath him as you clung to the last shreds of control. His movements grew more frantic, each one sending shockwaves through you that built higher and higher.

“Mark,” you gasped, your nails dragging down his back as the heat between you burned hotter. He groaned in response, low and guttural, the sound sending you further into overdrive.

When his mouth trailed down, teeth grazing your nipple just right, your world seemed to have shattered. A wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body arching into his as you cried out, completely undone. He followed moments later, a broken sound leaving his lips as he buried himself deeper, his own release spilling into you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both catching your breaths with your foreheads pressed together. The world slowly shifted into focus, the haze of what had happened between you lingered in the air as you found yourself coming back down from what had felt like an incomparable high. Soon though, the weight of his body pressing against yours made breathing slightly harder.

You gave him a gentle nudge, your voice soft. “Mark, you’re heavy.”

He grinned, rolling onto the bed beside you with a contented sigh. “Better?”

You nodded, meeting his gaze as he brushed a few stray hairs from your face. “You okay?” he asked, his tone quiet but sure.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice coming out quieter than intended. “You?”

Mark’s smile widened. “Never better.”

Before you could think of something clever to say, he leaned in, his lips grazing yours in a way that made your heart flutter all over again. The two of you stayed like that for a while, stealing quiet, intimate moments in the privacy of your bedroom. Eventually, you both knew you couldn’t hide away forever.

When you finally slipped back into the hallway, your cheeks were still warm, and you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Mark stayed close, his shoulder brushing against yours as you rejoined your family in the living room.

For the rest of the day, his presence was a constant. Whether he was cracking jokes with Hendery or leaning in to share a private comment that made you laugh, it felt like he’d completely settled into your orbit—and you didn’t mind.

It didn’t take long for everyone else in the house to notice your growing closeness with Mark. Your cousins teased you relentlessly, joking that Mark was the Christmas Miracle who made you shed your Grinch fur. Even your parents joined in.

“Had I known all it would take for you to stop grimacing every year on Christmas was a boyfriend,” your dad quipped, “I would’ve asked your mom to set you up on blind dates ages ago.”

“Ew, Dad. That’s so lame,” you replied with a grimace, though a pang of guilt flickered in your chest. For years, they’d put up with your reluctance to embrace the holiday spirit, and it hadn’t been fair to them.

Later, while Mark was off chatting with your cousins, your mom quietly pulled you aside. “I like him,” she said with a knowing smile. “He seems like a really sweet guy.”

“He is,” you admitted softly, hesitating. “But we don’t know much about each other. This is probably just… some temporary holiday fling.”

“Is that what you think?” she asked, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Well, sometimes those ‘temporary’ things surprise you. It’s just nice to see you happy.”

Her words replayed in your head, even as the evening unfolded into more teasing, laughter, and the occasional stolen glances between you and Mark. It felt effortless, the way he was seamlessly pulled into your family’s fold—laughing with your cousins, charming your parents, and somehow always finding his way back to your side.

At one point, as you leaned against the porch railing, your gaze wandering to the clear night sky, Mark appeared at your side. His hand brushed yours before his fingers slipped between them, the motion casual but deliberate.

“Wanna get out of here?” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“And go where?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.

“Anywhere,” he said with a crooked smile, hazy with the warmth of the evening—or maybe just you. “I just wanna be alone with you.”

You didn’t even have time to answer before Hendery, lounging on the couch nearby, cut in with exaggerated indignation. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he sighed.

“But now that it is happening, I guess all I can say is fuck you guys and please get out of my sight,” Hendery added, rolling his eyes. “You have no respect for the single loners hanging out with you, did you know that?”

You snickered. “This is why you bring your girlfriend home for the holidays, not a hot friend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Hendery retorted, crossing his arms.

“And whose fault is that?” you teased with a grin.

Hendery shot you a pointed look. “Don’t act so smug. You’ve been a Christmas Grinch for years. I’m not taking any advice from you.”

“Fair,” you admitted with a shrug, wanting so much to keep taunting him but deciding against it because he was right.

Your cousin cut in from across the room. “Dery, when did you say you were leaving again?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he replied.

“Already?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” he continued, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction. “We have a New Year event at uni. Mark’s needed for some important technical stuff. And me? Well, they need me for my invaluable presence.”

The chatter around you faded into the background as Mark tugged you closer. “You should come see it,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with intention.

You tilted your head, curious. “Is it fun?”

“I hope so,” he said with a small, crooked smile. “If it’s not, I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

You giggled when he kissed the side of your head. “How are you gonna do that?”

“Well, for starters…” He paused, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered in a voice full of promise, “I’ll take you somewhere private and show you a really good time.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Lame,” you quipped, pushing his face away.

Mark threw his head back laughing. “Okay. I’ll try to come up with something better.”

And just like that, the night became a blur of moments—each one filled with laughter, teasing, and kisses that were never fully explained, only given and received with a kind of sweetness that felt both comforting and thrilling.

It happened again. And again. The gentle pull of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch, the way he always found a way to stand just a little too close. By the time the night had fully settled into the quiet of the late hours, the two of you were tangled up in your bedroom again, tipsy, comfortable, and perhaps a little too far gone to really care about the next morning.

The train ride back to the city was as mundane as ever, but there was a sense of excitement buzzing in the air this time around. You sat back comfortable, looking out the window at the snowy landscape that blurred past. The past few days felt like a dream, a Christmas full of laughter, teasing, and beautiful moments with Mark.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling you from your thoughts.

Mark: See you Wednesday?

You smiled to yourself, the memories of the past few days flooding back—his easy laughter, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room, and the way his touch always seemed to leave a mark on your skin. It had all gone by so quickly, but in the best way possible. Everything had felt easy, comfortable, and natural in a way you hadn’t expected.

The holiday season had come to an end, but what you’d shared with Mark was just starting to unfold. There was something about it that felt like fate, or maybe just the simple truth that it was time for you to stop waiting for something that had no guarantee would ever happen.

You quickly typed your reply, your fingers moving almost instinctively.

You: Can’t wait.

When you hit send, you leaned back into the seat, letting the train’s rhythm settle the buzz in your busy mind. The thought of seeing him again made your chest tighten in the most pleasant way.

You couldn’t wait for Wednesday. For fuck’s sake, you couldn’t wait for the New Year.

[fin]

321 notes · View notes

moonriizing · 17 days ago

Text

is it new year’s yet? | l.hs (18+)

Coming home for Christmas is your least favorite part of the year. But this time, you're up for a pleasant surprise when you get introduced to your cousin's friend from uni, Lee Heeseung.

Genre: holiday fling, smut Pairing: Lee Heeseung x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+) Notes: 9.7k words. Listening to is it new year's yet by Sabrina Carpenter. First post on this blog and first enha fic! Do let me know what you think about this. Thank you! Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally, nor do I claim they would ever behave in real life like they were portrayed in this story. ALSO, if you see a similar story from a different blog for a different idol (nct mark), that is me. xoxo, cal.

Holidays are for family reunions and coming home to bond with your loved ones. Bullshit. You’d rather be anywhere but here.

Home. Familiar, warm, and somehow... suffocating.

“Did you lose weight?” a distant aunt asked, her eyes raking over you like you were a mannequin in a store window. “You need to eat more. You’re so skinny.”

You wove your way through the crowd, dodging overly familiar pats on the shoulder and sidelong glances that screamed When are you graduating? or Where’s your boyfriend?

You needed air. Or another drink. Although, both are fine too.

“Fuck this,” you muttered under your breath, stuffing your phone back in your pocket as you walked out of the kitchen.

Rounding the corner too fast, you slammed into someone—a steady grip caught your arm before the champagne could spill.

“Easy there,” he said, his voice low and warm. You glanced up and found a stranger: messy hair, sharp jawline, and an easy smile that contrasted with the chaos around you. He looked your age, maybe a bit older.

“Oooh, look who showed up!” Jake said, tilting his head with that playful glint you always found irritating.

You rolled your eyes. “I always show up.”

“Of course you do.” Jake leaned against the wall, arms crossed and grinning. “You hate it here, don’t you?”

You tilted your head at him, pretending to think. “What gave it away? My overflowing enthusiasm?”

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” Jake teased. “A little family bonding with your favorite aunts would be nice. Aren’t you supposed to pack them a gift each?”

You drained the last of your champagne, letting the fizz linger as you looked at your cousin. “I’d rather die.”

Jake laughed, nudging Heeseung with his elbow. “This is my cousin. She’s the resident Grinch. But don’t worry; she’s fun when she wants to be.”

“I can hear you,” you gloated.

“I know,” he said, his grin widening. “So? Are you going to spend the whole night sipping champagne like a miserable bore?”

You gave him a flat look. “Oh my god. You can read minds?” you deadpanned.

“Well, perfect! You’re already dressed for the occasion,” he quipped, gesturing vaguely at your casual attire. He laughed but stopped when you didn’t even crack a smile. “Tell you what, Heeseung and I are heading out. You’re welcome to join us if you want to.”

“No.”

“Come on. It’s gonna be fun.” Before you could refuse again, Jake slung an arm around your shoulder and turned to Heeseung. “She’ll come. She just likes to play hard to get.”

“I really won’t,” you retorted, trying to shrug him off. “I don’t feel like tailing you two all night.”

“What else are you gonna do—sit in a corner and glare at people?”

You rolled your eyes, but the answer was obvious. Staying inside meant more questions, more relatives, more everything you were trying to avoid.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But if you drag me into something ridiculous—”

“You’ll have fun. Promise,” Jake interrupted and then turned to Heeseung. “She’s coming.”

Heeseung’s smile was easy, almost reassuring. “No pressure. It’ll be chill.”

You smirked. “You clearly don’t know Jake.”

With that, Jake led the way, practically bouncing out the door. You followed, stuffing your hands into your coat pockets as Heeseung fell into step beside you.

The winter air hit you like a slap, crisp and biting, slicing through the lingering scents of cinnamon and pine. It was a relief, though, clearing your head from the stifling warmth of the house. You walked down the quiet streets with Jake, Heeseung, and a few friends you used to hang out with growing up. They led the way, cracking jokes and tossing playful banter back and forth, while you stuck closer to the back with Heeseung.

“I can’t believe they’re still dating,” you muttered, eyeing a pair in front of you.

“Who? Them?” Heeseung asked, making you glance briefly at them.

You nodded. “They started dating when we were sophomores in high school. And they’re still together.”

Heeseung hummed. “They must really like each other then.”

“Guess they like running in circles,” Heeseung said lightly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He glanced sideways at you. “What about you? Do you think people like that can actually work out?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure if the question was casual or probing. “I think it depends on how much drama you can stomach. Personally, I’d rather avoid it altogether.”

Heeseung tilted his head thoughtfully. “No drama, huh? That’s a pretty high bar for relationships.”

You smirked, knowing how ironic it was for you to say this despite having a relationship drama. “Tell me about it,” you mumbled.

It was easy to figure out Heeseung’s intentions. The whole time, he didn’t try to hide it, nor did he try to send mixed signals. It was pretty clear with how close he was standing beside you, how his shoulder almost brushed yours. The way Heeseung’s eyes lingered on you when you spoke, the way he tilted his head when you laughed, like he was committing the sound to memory. How, even when you weren’t talking, he stayed within arm’s reach, his gaze flickering to you every now and then. How his focus remained on you.

And then there was the way he leaned in just slightly when he made a comment, his voice low, his words meant only for you.

He was attentive in a way that surprised you, even in the most casual moments. As you explained how you and your friends used to kill time in this sleepy town—late-night drives to the lookout point, sneaking snacks into the single-screen movie theater, racing bikes down the old dirt trail—Heeseung listened with genuine curiosity, his eyes lighting up with every story.

You tilted your head, feigning offense. “Why do you sound so skeptical?”

“Oh, I believe you,” he said, his smirk widening. “I’m just wondering how many people you bribed to throw the race.”

You gasped playfully. “Excuse me, I won fair and square.”

“Sure you did.” His laughter was low, warm, the kind that made you feel comfortable with him.

You smirked. “Why else would I bring it up? Go ask them.”

He chuckled, nodding his head. “You seem really confident… I believe you.”

You were quiet for a while, with only the creaking sound of swing filling the silence. The tip of your shoes dragged lightly with every swing, carving the damp ground underneath.

Heeseung asked after the silence stretched out. “So, is that all you did for fun around here?”

“Pretty much,” you said with a shrug. “Lame, huh?”

“Not at all. It’s simple but it has its charm,” he said softly, pausing as he held the swing tight to stop it. “It says a lot about you though.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him with a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Are you calling me charming?”

“Maybe,” he said, his voice light but his gaze unwavering. “What would you do if I was?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Depends. Is this small-town charm talking, or do you actually mean it?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Trust me, I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Well, aren’t you a smooth talker?” you teased, though your voice had softened, your usual sharpness dulled by the way Heeseung was looking at you.

He grinned, leaning just a little closer, his voice dropping lower. “Only with the right company.”

You held his gaze. “Right company, huh?” you murmured, your heart thudding as you tilted your head, meeting his eyes.

He smiled faintly, his voice dipping lower. “You know I mean it.”

Your fingers twitched on the swing’s chain, almost brushing his. His lips hovered near yours now, and for a moment, everything else faded away—

“Yo, there you are!” Jake’s voice broke through the stillness, loud and completely unbothered.

You flinched, the spell breaking as you turned toward the sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel. Jake and the others were strolling toward you, their laughter cutting through the quiet.

Heeseung straightened quickly, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as he ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, that’s too bad,” he murmured, his voice low enough just for you. “I thought we’d finally lost them.”

A quiet laugh escaped you, even as warmth lingered on your cheeks. “I didn’t know we were doing that.”

He shrugged, a glint of mischief in his eyes, so you swatted his chest lightly, the playfulness easing the tension.

Jake raised an eyebrow as he approached, his gaze flicking between you and Heeseung. “What, were you two having a moment or something?”

“Not even close,” you shot back, sharper than you intended. “What do you want?”

“Lori was asking if your mom baked a fruitcake this year,” he said, pointing toward your friend Lori.

You glanced at her, catching her expectant grin. “You know what,” you said, rising to your feet, “she did. You should grab some before it’s gone.”

Lori and the others cheered. Though your mom’s fruitcake wasn’t your favorite—too sweet for your taste—you still felt a swell of pride knowing it was the highlight of every Christmas. It was this pride that made you wanna bring them over, so with Jake leading your group, you headed back to your house, noisy and in high spirits.

Like opposite sides of magnets, you and Heeseung found each other again and fell behind the rest of the group. He leaned into your ear as he asked, “Are we gonna pick up where we left off?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Depends on how charming you are for the rest of the night.”

He held your gaze, his smile softening. “Challenge accepted.”

Heeseung didn’t even bother denying it. His smile widened, his voice steady as he replied, “Can you blame me?”

You chuckled. “Don’t fall for me, though. I’d hate to break your heart once the holidays are over,” you told him, grinning playfully before walking faster to rejoin your friends.

Heeseung stayed back for a moment, watching you. Too late, he thought. You really should’ve warned him sooner.

“If this was a uni party, someone would’ve spiked the eggnog already,” you mumbled, your eyes scanning the room filled with family, friends, and all the usual holiday chaos.

Heeseung’s voice was low beside you, cutting through the noise. “Really?”

You nodded, not looking at him. “Oh yeah. If you want to survive the night here, you have to make your own fun.” You shot him a side glance, half-smiling. “Otherwise, it’s just... this.”

For a brief moment, Heeseung said nothing, but you could feel him shifting beside you. Then, in a voice laced with amusement and mischief, he said, “I’ll be right back.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Alarmed, you grabbed his arm and yanked him back before he could get too far. “No, Heeseung!”

He turned toward you, his grin dangerous. “What?”

“No, seriously,” you whispered urgently, trying to keep your voice down. You scanned the room quickly, then pointed across it with dramatic flair. “Old people.”

Heeseung’s brow furrowed, clearly confused, so you leaned in just a little closer. “That’s my great-uncle,” you said, nodding toward an elderly man in a faded cardigan who was snoozing away in the rocking chair. “He’s 84 and can’t have alcohol. But he’s obsessed with eggnog. Let’s not ruin this for him.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, fighting back a laugh. “That’s not so Grinch of you.”

“I make exceptions for people I like,” you said, your voice dropping to a playful whisper.

His smile deepened, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Is that so?” he asked, teasing but warm. “What exceptions have you made for me so far?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop your smile from widening. “I’m not answering that.”

“So there is something, then?” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek, as if the answer were hidden in your response.

“I’m not answering that either.” You chuckled, taking a step back with an exaggerated sigh. You started heading toward the patio, but Heeseung’s long strides quickly caught up, his footsteps just behind you.

The cold night air hit your skin as you stepped onto the patio, but the firepit’s warmth immediately enveloped you. Your friends and cousins gathered around, roasting marshmallows and swapping stories. You sat on the same bench as Heeseung, his presence adding warmth and comfort. You joined the conversations with the others, while occasionally having your own little talks with Heeseung.

As the night wore on, the laughter around the firepit thinned out, your companions dispersing one by one to retire for the night. Soon, it was just you, Heeseung, and Jake—both guys occupied with something on Jake’s phone. Left to your own devices, you scrolled aimlessly through social media, eventually landing on a friend’s Instagram story.

“I’m fine,” you mouthed, holding his hand that rested on your arm.

Suddenly, Jake shot up from his seat with a sharp exhale. “Let’s get out of here. I’m about to lose it with this Mariah Carey song they’ve got on repeat.”

“You go ahead. I’m gonna stick around for a bit,” Heeseung replied, squeezing your arm before rubbing his thumb against your jacket.

Jake noticed your joined hands and narrowed his eyes at the two of you. “You guys are getting cozy.”

“Are we?” you teased, glancing at Heeseung and shrugging. You leaned against his chest playfully and added, “I hardly noticed.”

Heeseung played along, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer. Jake shook his head, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “If you’re gonna have sex, don’t do it in our room.”

The comment made you roll your eyes. “This is my house, Jake. We can do it in my bedroom!”

Jake didn’t respond, only raised a middle finger at you two before walking away. You laughed, watching him disappear into the house. But beside you, Heeseung had stopped grinning, his expression shifting to something more serious, his eyes wide with shock.

You raised an eyebrow. “What? I was just joking.”

Heeseung blinked a few times, looking away as he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I know.” His voice was a little more strained, and you noticed a blush creeping up his neck.

You couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Did you think I was serious?” you asked, leaning in just a little closer.

Heeseung turned his head slightly, his eyes flickering toward you for a brief moment before he fixed his gaze on the fire. “Not at all,” he replied quickly.

“Oh? So you’re not interested?” you pressed, enjoying the sight of him flustered.

“I didn’t say that,” he responded too eagerly, too quickly.

Heeseung didn’t answer immediately, but you saw his posture stiffen, his hand slipping from your shoulder as he cleared his throat again. The air between you two felt thicker now, charged with something neither of you wanted to bring up.

You let the silence hang there for a few moments before turning to look at the house, your smile a little softer. “Anyway,” you muttered, standing up, “let’s get back inside.”

Heeseung didn’t say anything as he followed you, the air between you was thick with tension, but neither of you said much as you both walked toward the staircase leading up to the upper floors. It was past midnight. You had intended to hang out with him a bit more, but the night suddenly started to catch up with you after that awkward exchange with Heeseung.

It shouldn’t be a surprise. He clearly wanted you, at least based on how he’d been flirting with you all night and how you almost kissed at the playground earlier. And to be honest, you were entertaining the idea of a holiday fling with Heeseung. He was very attractive and he’d done nothing to raise any red flags so far. So why did the sudden sexual tension seem to make things awkward between you?

As you reached the hallway, you turned to him with a small smile. “Well, guess it’s time for me to call it a night,” you said, your voice a little quieter than usual.

Heeseung nodded, but there was something in his expression that suggested he wasn’t ready to say goodnight just yet. “Yeah… sure,” he replied, his eyes focused on you.

You both stopped in front of your door and there was a silence that stretched longer than either of you anticipated. When you reached for the doorknob, Heeseung didn’t say anything, though you could see the dejected look in his eyes that he failed to mask with the smile he was wearing.

Heeseung smiled warmly. “I might have volunteered to be tomorrow’s Santa Claus, so I think I’d still be here.”

You chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “Are you serious?”

“No,” he chimed with a playful grin, reaching for your hand and brushing his fingers lightly across your skin.

“Heeseung, I—” you began, only to cut yourself off because you didn’t really know what you were gonna say. Or if you should even say anything at all.

But then you both understood without words. Your nerves seemed to settle, and without another sound, Heeseung leaned in, his lips pressing gently against yours.

When the kiss broke, you both stood there, breathless, eyes wide. You let out a nervous laugh, still trying to gather your thoughts. “That didn’t just happen,” you chuckled.

Heeseung’s gaze softened, his lips curling up into a small, almost sheepish smile. “Was that too fast?” he questioned playfully.

You exhaled a laugh, shaking your head. “Not really, but… let’s just pretend it didn’t happen,” you said, trying to play it cool, but your heart was still racing.

He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Good idea.”

When he pulled back slightly, his gaze was intense, searching yours. “You good?” he rasped, his breath warm against your face.

“Totally,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back in for another kiss.

You kicked your bedroom door open, tugging him inside without breaking the kiss. In no time, you found your back pressed against the wall right by the door, Heeseung’s lips ravaging yours with a kiss that made you go feral.

When his hand slipped under your shirt, you held it tightly, debating whether to let him go there—caught between wanting to retreat and wanting to give in. As your hesitation stretched, Heeseung took it as his cue to pull away—not completely, just enough to press his forehead against yours and cup your cheeks

“Is that a ‘no’?” he whispered, his voice laced with playful warmth.

You chuckled, still a little drunk on his lips—on him. “Are you hurt?” you asked playfully, though your concern was sincere. “Your ego, I mean.”

“Hmm, not really,” he replied, shivering under your touch when your hand ran from his arm to his neck. “I’m more hurt somewhere else.”

That made you laugh and hit his chest playfully. Heeseung caught your hand, keeping it on his chest as he closed his eyes—forehead still pressed against, his breathing steady but deep, his lips lifted slightly in a faint smile.

You planted a soft kiss on his lips and took a small step back. “Aren’t you leaving?”

Heeseung clutched his chest, feigning a pained look. “Ouch. I’m getting kicked out too? This is torture.”

The sound of Christmas carols from the living room filtered through the door, a reminder of the world just outside, but neither of you seemed in a rush to leave. Heeseung looked around your dimly lit bedroom, studying the space as if familiarizing himself.

“I don’t want to push my luck,” he said, his voice low as he glanced back at you. “But this is much cozier than the guest room I’m sharing with Jake.”

You smirked, catching the insinuation in his statement. “It’s a no, Heeseung.”

Heeseung winced visibly. “Is that final?” he asked, making you chuckle.

“We only just met.”

He shrugged, nodding thoughtfully. “That’s fair. It was worth a shot, though.”

You had to admit, you considered it. Just the idea of being in Heeseung’s arms stirred something inside you. A feeling that, if you were being honest, you weren’t expecting to feel at all when you boarded the train home for the holidays. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the loneliness of the night creeping in, but right now, you felt more alive than you had in weeks.

Heeseung tilted your chin, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips once more. “Good night?”

“Good night,” you chimed, holding his hand against your cheek.

But he made no move to leave, he just stood there, staring at you as if it would physically pain him to look away. Then he leaned in for another kiss, and you were more than happy to oblige.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” he teased, forehead pressing against yours.

“You’re one to talk,” you retorted, rolling your eyes playfully, though your smile was soft, just a little more sincere now.

The next morning, breakfast unfolded in a much quieter manner than last night’s festivities with everyone still half-asleep and quietly eating. Across the table, Heeseung seemed perfectly at ease, though you couldn’t ignore the occasional glance he sent your way—or how your gaze sometimes lingered on him longer than it should.

Your mom’s attention was on him, which was understandable since he was the only new face around the dining table. Your mom said she didn’t get the chance to properly get to know him because yesterday was hectic. Heeseung didn’t seem to mind, he was polite and spoke with courteousness and a charming demeanor.

“So, Heeseung,” your mom began to add as she reached for another piece of toast, her tone light but curious. “How do you know Jake?”

You smirked, glancing at your cousin. “Yeah. You seem too cool to be hanging out with this dork.”

Heeseung glanced at Jake, who was already sighing as if he knew what story Heeseung was going to tell. “We met during our first year,” Heeseung said, chuckling. “It was a… uh. Freshman prank.”

“Freshman prank?” your dad asked.

Heeseung hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s a long story, but basically we fell victim to a freshman prank and ended up getting scolded by the college dean.”

“Oh my god! Jake said he was scolded by the dean for dancing around the school grounds in a bear costume. Was that it?” one of your cousins asked.

“Yeah,” Heeseung replied, his laugh a little sheepish. “It was actually the school mascot suit. They asked us to wear them at a freshman event for extra credit. Then we found out in the end that it was a faculty briefing, not a freshman event.”

Jake exhaled, exasperated by the memory. “ We even danced without knowing our mascot heads were switched. I was a lion with a bear head.”

Your mom laughed again, shaking her head. “Well, that’s one way to make a friend.”

“And now you’re stuck with him,” you teased, looking at Heeseung.

“Pretty much,” Heeseung agreed, his gaze flicking to you with a warm smile. “But hey, life’s never boring with Jake around.”

You smirked. “You’re too kind. Just say he’s an idiot. He doesn’t mind.”

Jake waved his fork in the air, scoffing at you. “Joke’s on you. Heeseung would never say that about me.”

Heeseung shrugged. “Well, he’s kind of… an idiot.”

Jake gasped. “What have you done to my friend?” he accused dramatically, pointing a finger at you.

The conversation soon shifted from playful banter to lighter topics as the meal wound down. You mostly stayed quiet, stealing occasional glances at Heeseung, who somehow managed to charm your family without even trying. When breakfast ended, your mom handed you a towel. “You’re on dish duty today,” she said with a kind smile.

Heeseung stood without hesitation. “I’ll help.”

“Very gallant of you,” your mom quipped, her tone amused as she watched you carry the dishes away.

When your family was out of earshot, Heeseung leaned in close, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Figured I’d earn some points.”

“So,” he began after a moment, breaking the silence with his usual casual tone. “Your mom’s cool. Super curious, though.”

You snorted. “That’s her way of being welcoming. Consider yourself officially part of the family.”

“Is that so?” he asked, his tone teasing. “Guess that means I have to stick around,” he added, bumping his elbow against your arm.

You rolled your eyes, recognizing the playful hint. “Only as Jake’s friend, though.”

“Son-in-Law is a pretty big leap from Nephew’s College Friend.”

He grinned with mock confidence. “I’m Lee Heeseung. Anything’s possible.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, Golden Boy.”

“You’ve got a pretty lively family,” Heeseung said after a pause, his tone softening. “They remind me of mine.”

“Oh, yeah?” You glanced at him, curious. “Big Christmas crowd?”

“Not as big as yours, but yeah. We do the whole chaos thing. My mom insists on playing charades after dinner, even though none of us can act to save our lives.”

You chuckled at the image, your hand brushing his as you passed him a plate. The touch lingered for half a second too long, enough to make your heart skip a beat. When you looked at him, Heeseung was already watching you, his voice dropping to something quieter as he leaned closer to whisper in your ear.

“By the way, you look lovely this morning.”

The compliment hit harder than it should’ve, leaving you momentarily flustered. You managed to play it off with a teasing smile. “Trying to earn more points?”

“Maybe,” he replied with a grin, leaning just a fraction closer.

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “Just dry the dishes.”

Heeseung grinned, leaning slightly closer. “Maybe.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “Just dry the dishes.”

His soft laughter warmed the kitchen, the hum of last night’s lingering tension sparking again between you. By the time you handed him the final dish, there were no more “accidental” brushes—Heeseung took your hand outright, pulling you gently forward to steal a quick, mischievous kiss.

You gasped, heat rushing to your face as you slapped his arm. “You sneaky little—”

You scoffed, stepping back slightly. “Don’t push your luck.”

But when you turned to leave, Heeseung caught your wrist, pulling you back into a tight embrace. “Where are you going? Stay.”

You hesitated for half a second, then melted into his hold, your hands settling lightly on his waist. “What are we even doing?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, resting his chin lightly against your hair. “But it’s nice.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It kinda is.”

The moment was broken by the faint sound of singing from the direction of the main door. Heeseung’s brows rose as he glanced toward the sound. “Carolers?”

Jake noticed you standing beside him and leaned in. “Tell me why I can’t punch the carolers.”

You snorted. “Because it’s not their fault you didn’t pass the auditions.”

“Right,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Wait, what? You auditioned for this?” Heeseung asked, his expression bewildered.

Jake smirked, unbothered by the attention. “I’m a man of many talents, my friend. They fumbled real bad when they decided to reject me.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, exasperated. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love me for it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. Christmas morning chaos, as always.

The rest of the day unfolded in a series of warm, chaotic moments. After the carolers left, your family gathered in the living room, eager to keep the festive spirit alive.

Someone—probably Jake—suggested a game of charades. It started out as a reluctant group activity but quickly spiraled into uncontrollable laughter as your aunt wildly flailed her arms trying to mimic Jaws, and your dad confused everyone by acting out Titanic with interpretive dance.

Heeseung fit right in, his easy humor making him an absolute hit. He was surprisingly good at charades, though you suspected he was just adept at playing to the crowd. When it was your turn to act, he leaned over to Jake and whispered something that had both of them laughing under their breath—probably a jab at your complete lack of acting skills. You shot them a mock glare, but it only made Heeseung grin wider.

“You shouldn’t have,” your mom said with a soft smile, wrapping the scarf around her neck immediately.

Others exchanged gifts, too, and to your surprise, a few came your way: a box of chocolates from your aunt, fuzzy socks from Jake, and a cute notebook from a younger cousin. You hadn’t expected anything from anyone other than your parents, so it warmed you more than you cared to admit.

Heeseung, meanwhile, didn’t seem fazed by the lack of a gift exchange between the two of you. Instead, as the wrapping paper chaos settled, he nudged your arm.

“Guess we forgot to plan this part, huh?” he said, his tone light but his eyes searching yours.

“Yeah, well,” you replied, shrugging, “we didn’t exactly have time for shopping.”

Heeseung leaned back against the couch, thoughtful. Then his face lit up with an idea. “How about we exchange something else?”

“Like what?” you asked, curious.

He reached for his phone, pulling up a playlist. “Music,” he said simply. “I’ll share a song I love, and you do the same. It’s like a tiny window into who we are.”

You hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Okay. You first.”

“I like it,” you admitted, handing the phone back.

“Your turn,” he said, leaning closer as if to make sure he wouldn’t miss a beat.

You picked something a little more upbeat but with a nostalgic edge. The second it started, Heeseung grinned, nodding along to the rhythm. “Good choice. I can see why you like it.”

Later, as the family settled down for a Christmas movie, Heeseung ended up beside you on the couch. The warmth of him sitting close felt comforting, and somewhere in the middle of Love Actually, his hand found yours under the blanket draped over your laps. It wasn’t showy or obvious; no one else noticed.

Heeseung leaned closer, his voice low but curious. “Who is he?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“The guy,” he clarified. “The one who keeps making you wait for him.”

You chuckled nervously. “There is no guy.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. You sighed. “Fine. There is—was, actually. I think I’m done waiting for him.”

“Why is that?”

You tilted your head slightly, taking a very good look at the beautiful man before you. A smile crept across your lips. Why, he asked? It was because you met him—Lee Heeseung, who wanted you and made it clear. Heeseung, who gave you signals and acted on them. Heeseung, who not only spoke honestly about how much he liked you but also went out of his way to show it. Heeseung, who gave you more in two days than Yeonjun had in three months.

“You staring at me like that is making me wanna kiss you right now,” Heeseung said softly, cutting through your reverie.

You grinned. “Do it then.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His lips brushed yours, warm and soft, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

Across from you, Jake grimaced, letting out an exaggerated groan. “Guys. Just get a room already.”

You pulled back, laughing, your cheeks warm with embarrassment. Heeseung didn’t seem fazed, his smirk playful as he leaned closer, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Ignore him,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You giggled, the giddiness bubbling up despite yourself. “He’s right, though,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “We should probably get a room.”

Heeseung’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Okay,” he said, as if it was the easiest decision in the world. “I’d never say no to that.”

Jake let out another theatrical groan from across the room, muttering something about needing bleach for his eyes. But neither of you paid him any attention as you shared a knowing glance, the warmth between you now impossible to ignore.

Laughter spilled from your lips as you and Heeseung slipped out of the living room to the quiet halls upstairs. The muffled sounds of the movie still playing below faded with every step. Heeseung stayed close, his hand brushing yours until he tugged you gently back, spinning you to face him.

“Come here,” he murmured, stealing another kiss, his lips warm against yours.

You giggled, pulling away just enough to tease him. “Have some restraint, will you?”

He grinned, leaning in to whisper in your ear, his voice low and mischievous. “That’s too much to ask of me, you know?”

Your laughter filled the empty corridor as you took a step back, only for Heeseung to chase after you. His hands found your waist, pulling you close before kissing you again, slower this time, his lips lingering like he had all the time in the world.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made you both freeze. You pulled apart to see your old uncle shuffling past, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing as he continued down the hall.

Heeseung pressed his forehead against yours, biting back a laugh. “Think he’ll tell your mom?”

You snorted, pushing him lightly. “Does it matter? Bet everyone knows there’s something between us by now.”

“Touche.”

With a shared grin, you twisted the doorknob and pulled him inside. The door clicked shut behind you as you stumbled into the room, your lips finding his again in the quiet.

“Sorry,” he said, his warm laugh brushing against your skin. “I thought you’d like it.”

“Oh, I like it,” you admitted, brushing your hair aside to bare your neck again. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

His fingers lightly traced the column of your neck. “Why not?”

“I’m… ticklish,” you said shyly, rolling your eyes to downplay your embarrassment.

Heeseung chuckled, the sound rich and low, sending butterflies racing in your stomach. His smile softened as he leaned in, teasing, “Noted.”

You sighed dramatically, unable to keep the playful glint out of your eyes. “Did we come up here just so you could tease me like this, or…?”

Carefully, he lowered you down the bed, his lips not leaving yours. With one swift motion, he pulled your shirt off and tossed it aside, pausing to marvel at your body. You could see the desire in his eyes—clear and unadulterated.

“Well? Don’t just stand there and stare,” you whined cutely, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment but trying to keep your composure.

Heeseung exhaled sharply, crawling on the bed to kiss you again. “Can’t help it.”

His lips traveled the length of your neck and collarbone, nipping and sucking, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. With his mouth, he traced the line between your breasts, down to your stomach, until he reached your navel. Heeseung didn’t stop there. He undid your jeans and tugged it down before pressing his nose on your sex and taking a long sniff.

“Heeseung,” you whispered, the pressure from his nose making your body burn with anticipation.

He knew exactly what he was doing, pushing your underwear aside and licking a stripe at the pooling wetness between your legs. He continued with expertise, making you writhe and moan in ecstasy. You tried to close your legs when the stimulation became too much, but Heeseung’s grasp of your thighs were tight, prying your legs open so he could continue what he came to do. All you could do was whimper and grab a handful of his hair.

Your mind was screaming for him to stop, but your mouth could only utter his name as your hips bucked forward, eager for more.

Heeseung didn’t say anything, he just grinned wider, seemingly proud of how good he was making you feel. His fingers slid in and out in a steady pace, growing more rapid and urgent the more he saw your face contorting with pleasure and euphoria.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, your back arching as you felt the familiar knot in your belly. “Don’t stop!”

And then came a euphoric wave engulfing your entire being. You froze for a moment, your mouth gaping open as you relished the momentary high that washed over you. Heeseung’s fingers were still inside you as he kissed your forehead.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he lilted before capturing your lips in a fervent kiss.

The air was thick with the sounds of your shared passion—your breathless moans, his deep groans, and the unmistakable sound of skin slamming against skin. Heeseung was a perfect fit, his every thrust reaching a depth that had spiraling into an irrational desire for more. More, as though he hadn’t already completely consumed you.

Your fingers dug into his back, your grip tightening with every surge of pleasure. When he pinned your wrists above your head, your body arched instinctively, your hands grasping at the sheets as you gasped for him to keep going. When his teeth grazed the sensitive curve of your neck, your entire body lit up, every nerve alive with overwhelming pleasure. And when he murmured your name, his voice rough and breathless, it was enough to push you closer to the edge, leaving you lost in a desperate, dizzying need for him.

Heeseung was a vice. He unraveled you, body and mind, until nothing existed but the maddening ache of him and the desperate, spiraling desire to never let this moment end.

“Oh, Heeseung.”

“What do you want, baby?” he asked in a low, deep and raspy voice sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

“Harder, Hee. Please.” you cried out, not even caring to hide how needy you were.

“Shit,” he grunted, spurred on by the need in your voice. “You’re so...”

“Heeseung,” you gasped, your nails dragging down his back as the heat between you burned hotter. He groaned in response, low and guttural, the sound sending you further into overdrive.

You gave him a gentle nudge, your voice soft. “Heeseung, you’re heavy.”

He grinned, rolling onto the bed beside you with a contented sigh. “Better?”

You nodded, meeting his gaze as he brushed a few stray hairs from your face. “You okay?” he asked, his tone quiet but sure.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice coming out quieter than intended. “You?”

Heeseung’s smile widened. “Never better.”

When you finally slipped back into the hallway, your cheeks were still warm, and you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Heeseung stayed close, his shoulder brushing against yours as you rejoined your family in the living room.

For the rest of the day, his presence was a constant. Whether he was cracking jokes with Jake or leaning in to share a private comment that made you laugh, it felt like he’d completely settled into your orbit—and you didn’t mind.

It didn’t take long for everyone else in the house to notice your growing closeness with Heeseung. Your cousins teased you relentlessly, joking that Heeseung was the Christmas Miracle who made you shed your Grinch fur. Even your parents joined in.

“Had I known all it would take for you to stop grimacing every year on Christmas was a boyfriend,” your dad quipped, “I would’ve asked your mom to set you up on blind dates ages ago.”

Later, while Heeseung was off chatting with your cousins, your mom quietly pulled you aside. “I like him,” she said with a knowing smile. “He seems like a really sweet guy.”

“He is,” you admitted softly, hesitating. “But we don’t know much about each other. This is probably just… some temporary holiday fling.”

“Is that what you think?” she asked, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Well, sometimes those ‘temporary’ things surprise you. It’s just nice to see you happy.”

Her words replayed in your head, even as the evening unfolded into more teasing, laughter, and the occasional stolen glances between you and Heeseung. It felt effortless, the way he was seamlessly pulled into your family’s fold—laughing with your cousins, charming your parents, and somehow always finding his way back to your side.

At one point, as you leaned against the porch railing, your gaze wandering to the clear night sky, Heeseung appeared at your side. His hand brushed yours before his fingers slipped between them, the motion casual but deliberate.

“Wanna get out of here?” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“And go where?” you asked, your voice just above a whisper.

“Anywhere,” he said with a crooked smile, hazy with the warmth of the evening—or maybe just you. “I just wanna be alone with you.”

You didn’t even have time to answer before Jake, lounging on the couch nearby, cut in with exaggerated indignation. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he sighed.

“But now that it is happening, I guess all I can say is fuck you guys and please get out of my sight,” Jake added, rolling his eyes. “You have no respect for the single loners hanging out with you, did you know that?”

You snickered. “This is why you bring your girlfriend home for the holidays, not a hot friend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Jake retorted, crossing his arms.

“And whose fault is that?” you teased with a grin.

Jake shot you a pointed look. “Don’t act so smug. You’ve been a Christmas Grinch for years. I’m not taking any advice from you.”

“Fair,” you admitted with a shrug, wanting so much to keep taunting him but deciding against it because he was right.

Your cousin cut in from across the room. “Jake, when did you say you were leaving again?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he replied.

“Already?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” he continued, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction. “We have a New Year event at uni. Heeseung’s needed for some important technical stuff. And me? Well, they need me for my invaluable presence.”

The chatter around you faded into the background as Heeseung tugged you closer. “You should come see it,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with intention.

You tilted your head, curious. “Is it fun?”

“I hope so,” he said with a small, crooked smile. “If it’s not, I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

You giggled when he kissed the side of your head. “How are you gonna do that?”

“Well, for starters…” He paused, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered in a voice full of promise, “I’ll take you somewhere private and show you a really good time.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Lame,” you quipped, pushing his face away.

Heeseung threw his head back laughing. “Okay. I’ll try to come up with something better.”

Your phone buzzed in your hand, pulling you from your thoughts.

Heeseung: See you Wednesday?

The holiday season had come to an end, but what you’d shared with Heeseung was just starting to unfold. There was something about it that felt like fate, or maybe just the simple truth that it was time for you to stop waiting for something that had no guarantee would ever happen.

You quickly typed your reply, your fingers moving almost instinctively.

You: Can’t wait.

When you hit send, you leaned back into the seat, letting the train’s rhythm settle the buzz in your busy mind. The thought of seeing him again made your chest tighten in the most pleasant way.

You couldn’t wait for Wednesday. For fuck’s sake, you couldn’t wait for the New Year.

[fin]

#heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #enhypen smut #heeseung x you #heeseung x yn #lee heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung imagines #lee heeseung fluff #lee heeseung x you #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #heeseung fluff #heeseung fanfic #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic

328 notes · View notes

gladoswantscake · 2 months ago

Text

Just a Scratch - Goro Majima x Reader

Summary: This wasn't the first time he came home in the middle of the night beaten up.

Warnings: Minor spoilers from Kiwami 1

Available on AO3

The outside of Kamurocho's bright neon city lights shined warmly through your bedroom curtains as you slept. Tonight was quiet. Too quiet and lonely. Tonight was one of those nights when you couldn't fall asleep. You roll over to stare at the empty spot on the other side of the bed; desolated and cold. It lacked your lover. Nighttime was when you longed for him the most. You only ever get to see him when he leaves for work and when he comes home at night. Going many hours each day without seeing him makes you yearn for his presence. A good day is when Majima comes home to you.

Of course, being a patriarch has more responsibilities and also requires him to attend to more important matters. He'd be lucky if he was able to come home before dusk. But that was rare.

You roll back over to your side to glance at the clock. Almost midnight. You'd only been in bed for nearly two hours and not a feeling of drowsiness hit you. At least he'll be home anytime now. You make an attempt to try to sleep.

Not even ten minutes in and the sound of three loud knocks erupts you from your sleep. The noise startles you as you sit up quickly, feeling your heart pacing rapidly. The continuous loud knocking begins to strike a nerve in you.

"Alright... Alright..." You shout as you sluggishly get out of bed.

You drag yourself to the front door, rubbing your face as you unlock the deadbolt and the knob. Upon opening the door stood Majima; beaten and bruised up.

What shocked you even more was his new attire: A dirty pink bodycon dress with torn fish net stockings, tousled blond wig, and press-on nails. The makeup was surprisingly well-kept on his face despite how badly wounded the rest of his body was.

You then remembered this morning before he left, he spoke to you about an idea he had in mind to lure Kiryu: If there was one thing that many men loved, it was women.

But you didn't expect Majima to come home dressed as a hostess.

"Sorry if I woke ya up. I lost my key."

You took no time to pulling him into your home. "What the hell happened to you this time?"

Majima follows you from behind, removing and tossing the pink high heels onto the floor at the front door in the process. A sly grin appears on his face. "I uh, got my butt beat again by Kiryu-chan." He follows you into the bathroom.

Ever since Kiryu got out of prison, Majima has been coming up with weird ideas.

Majima sits on the seat of the toilet. He watches as you dig through the cabinet searching for your medical supplies. It felt like a ritual to patch him up every time he came home injured. He never complained once about it. He secretly enjoyed being doctored up by you. Physical touch was a love language of his.

You set out bandages, rubbing alcohol, and pads on the sink then leaving in search for a bath towel in the bedroom.

"I thought Goromi would have been the perfect hostess to make him swoon." He removes the messy blond wig. "Almost had him too!"

"Maybe he's not into buff women." You shout from outside of your bedroom.

As Majima waits for your return, he begins to undress himself. The tight fabric of the dress was making it impossible for his fingertips to reach the zipper. Even trying to pull the dress downward didn't budge. "What a goddamn pain." He grumbles. "Who the hell makes these dresses where ya can't even get out of?!"

You quickly return to him, unzipping the dress for him revealing. Large bruises already forming on his bare back.

"Thank you, doll." He sighs in relief.

"This has to be the most uncomfortable thing I've ever worn." He removes the pink thong before wrapping a towel around his waist. "Do ya think pink looks good on me?" He jokes.

"I think it accentuates your figure." You glance up at him. A faint bruise was starting to appear on his jaw and a few scrapes scattered amongst his face.

"I'm sorry your idea didn't go as planned." You remove his eyepatch before getting started. Your hands cups both sides of his cheeks to examine the damage. You then reach for the gauze wipe then the alcohol. After lightly dousing the wipe, you cautiously dab his face.

"Ah, don't be sorry. I had fun." He winces at the feeling of the alcohol wipe stinging his cheek. "You should'ave seen Kiryu blushin'." He chuckles softly.

"So Goromi, huh?"

Majima laughs to himself. "Oh yeah. Now that you reminded me. I gotta a great story to tell ya."

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

After disposing the used gauze and band aids, you return to him to observe his beaten face. The condition was slight better than it was prior.

"I'm worried for you."

"How so?"

"I'm worried that one of these nights you won't come home."

"Aw Y/N-chan..." His voice trails. His hands roam up your waist. "Don't be havin' those thoughts, besides it feels like I only took a scratch." He gives you a reassuring smile.

"I get that you enjoy fighting, but there's only so many times you can do it before something bad happens to you."

Majima sighs. His hands move to your wrists, taking them in his hands. "Darlin' I've told you many times I can't quit. It ain't no easy job. Hell, I've been a yakuza my whole life and I'm still kicking."

Majima was extremely defensive when it came to you preaching concern about his brawling habits. There was no way he was backing down something that he enjoyed doing. But with what you said was true. All the times he got into conflict, the thought of him ending up dead never crossed his mind. He had gotten an earful from you when he came home from the hospital a couple of weeks ago when one of his subordinate's accidently stabbed him. He could see why an incident like that concerned you for his safety.

"I may have some cuts and bruises, but I'm still here. I ain't goin' nowhere. I promise."

"Promise?"

He pulls you into his lap. "As long as come home to see my Y/N-chan." His lips peck yours, leaving a faint lipstick stain on your lips.

Your hand runs through his messy undercut. "I'll be waiting for you in bed."

"You're not gonna join me?" He whines. "I haven't seen my Y/N-chan all day."

You took your time contemplating the idea.

"At least let me return you the favor." He purrs. "I gotta show how much I appreciate all that you've done for me."

#yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza kiwami #yakuza oneshots #yakuza x reader #goro majima #goro majima x reader #majima goro #majima goro x reader #my creation

64 notes · View notes

nitrateglow · 1 year ago

Text

Favorite films discovered in 2023

2023 kind of sucked, but it was a fruitful year for me as a movie geek. I finally got around to seeing films that have been on my TBW pile for years now. I also gave myself a challenge that I actually completed: watch at least one film from every year between 1900 and 2023.

Anyway, I'll stop beating around the bush. Here are my top 20 favorite film discoveries in 2023. (The order is very, very loose from 5 on down. I genuinely had a hard time narrowing the list down to 20, let alone ranking everything.)

When a Woman Ascends the Stairs (dir. Mikio Naruse, 1960)

This well-regarded drama follows Keiko, a bar hostess who's just turned 30 years old. She has limited options as an unmarried woman in postwar Japan. Considered "old," she has to marry soon or scrape enough money to buy her own bar. With its jazzy score and first-person narration, When a Woman Ascends the Stairs has a noirish vibe but it certainly isn't noir at all. Though the film is tragic, what moved me so much was Keiko's character. She has a tough lot and her story is ultimately tragic, yet she is determined to keep going, even if life won't give her a break.

The Boy and the Heron (dir. Hayao Miyazaki, 2023)

Miyazaki's current "last film" is certainly his most abstract and puzzling. I imagine it'll be one of his more divisive titles in the years to come, but count me among its fans. While being "in the know" regarding the current state of Studio Ghibli and Miyazaki's 60+ year-long career in animation allows one to better appreciate the many allusions and themes within the film, it stands just fine on its own as a surrealistic adventure about grief and the power of art. Also, damn, I LOVE hand-drawn animation so much.

Black Cat (dir. Kaneto Shindo, 1968)

Kaneto Shindo's Black Cat is yet another confirmation of my feeling that horror pairs best with humor or heartbreak. While there are some morbidly funny moments, Black Cat is largely a devastating supernatural horror story about a young samurai who encounters two mysterious women in the woods, not realizing they are the ghosts of his murdered wife and mother. Even worse, they've sworn to kill any and all samurai they encounter, since their deaths were the result of raping, pillaging samurai-- but they remain human enough to desire an exception. I was creeped out thoroughly by the chilly atmosphere and imagery of this film. I liked it even better than Shindo's Onibaba and that was one of my favorites from 2022!

Malcolm X (dir. Spike Lee, 1992)

I usually dislike big movie biopics for being stuffy and formulaic. Malcolm X avoids both of these issues. Directed to the hilt by Spike Lee, this film is passionate and compelling, about as far from a stuffy Oscarbait biopic as you could imagine. Also, Denzel Washington is AMAZING in the titular role. Like, we're talking one of the best performances I have ever seen because not only is Washington convincing as Malcolm X, he also perfectly portrays his arc from zoot-suited young criminal to uncompromising activist leader. I was absolutely mesmerized the entire time-- it's a long movie that never feels its length and I'll definitely be revisiting it in the future.

The Kiss Before the Mirror (dir. James Whale, 1933)

James Whale’s horror movies are listed among the finest 1930s cinema had to offer, but his other works remain woefully overlooked. The Kiss Before the Mirror is a strange marital drama set in a dreamlike interwar Vienna. A lawyer defending a murderer who shot down his cheating wife comes to discover his own wife in the midst of a casual affair. Will this discovery lead to another killing? Despite the lurid plot elements, Kiss is closer to Kubrick’s introspective Eyes Wide Shut than a typical 1930s melodrama. Both husband and wife are complex characters struggling with destroyed illusions, making the story a hell of a lot more complex than you'd expect.

Five Miles to Midnight (dir. Anatole Litvak, 1962)

I am so glad I ignored the meh reviews on this one because I would have missed out on one of the best thrillers I've seen in years. Sophia Loren is a woman desperate to shake off her narcissistic, abusive husband played by Tony Perkins. When Perkins is wrongly believed dead in a plane crash, he hides out in Loren's apartment so they can collect the life insurance money, split the funds, then part amicably. This being a Hitchcock-style thriller, it doesn't work out that way. What sells the film is the psychological cat-and-mouse game between Loren and Perkins's miserable, mismatched married couple, and a noirish sense of doom lends a great deal of atmosphere.

Shoes (dir. Lois Weber, 1916)

Shoes is the best Lois Weber film I have yet seen and it still packs a wallop a century-plus since its initial release. Mary MacLaren plays a young woman single-handedly supporting her family on a five dollar a week salary. She wears shoes that are falling apart but can never seem to save enough for a new pair-- that is, until an unsavory way of getting the cash presents itself, much to her horror and temptation. This is a heartbreaking little film that showcases a lot of what I love about 1910s American cinema. There's less glamor in the settings and nothing at all genteel or cleaned up about the poverty on display. MacLaren is wonderful in the lead too, her performance a quietly compelling portrait of quiet desperation.

Jeopardy (dir. John Sturges, 1953)

Barbara Stanwyck was in such a wealth of films that I can forgive myself for not realizing this one even existed. After seeing it, it's easily in my top five favorite films of hers. On the surface, the plot sounds like fodder for sleazy sex fantasy: a housewife on vacation is kidnapped by a hot escaped convict. She's racing against time to save her husband from drowning after the tide comes in at the beach where he's trapped; the convict has a very specific price for any aid he's willing to offer. Stanwyck's characterization complicates the situation and the direction amps the tension to a breaking point. Great, great stuff!

Girlfriends (dir. Claudia Weill, 1978)

This film came across my path in a weirdly personal way. One of my sisters got engaged this year. We've been close all of our lives and shared an apartment for years, so this is going to be a big change for both of us. Girlfriends is about a young woman whose best friend is getting married, meaning she'll be on her own for the first time. In addition to making this adjustment, she's a photographer currently hired for weddings and bar mitzvahs, but dreaming of entering the larger world of art galleries. I guess you could say it's a 70s version of a quarter-life crisis film (Noah Baumbach's Frances Ha takes A LOT from it). The performances and direction are exceptional, having that unglamorous, lived-in vibe I love about the films of this period. It also just happened to come into my life at the most resonant time, so there's that.

Ivan the Terrible, Parts One and Two (dir. Sergei Eisenstein, 1945 and 1958)

As a person who hates the idea that realism is the only valid form for cinematic drama, Eisenstein's hyper-stylized Ivan the Terrible movies are a joy. The compositions are like something out of a painting, the acting is operatic, the writing mythic and sweeping. The dance number in Part II is one of my favorite scenes in any movie ever. Best of all, the films rise above their propagandist origins, becoming a fascinating study of institutional power set against individual charisma.

The Red Queen Kills Seven Times (dir. Emilio Miraglia, 1972)

I've been getting more into giallo lately and The Red Queen Kills Seven Times is among the more memorable titles. You have the fashion world setting, a disguised murderer running around in a red cloak, over the top kills, a villainous junkie who looks like Bucky Barnes, a spooky castle with death traps, the works. It's a movie where I don't really care too much about the plot. It's the off-kilter, sinister atmosphere that draws me in, as with most giallo movies.

Little Miss Sunshine (dir. Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris, 2006)

It took Alan Arkin dying for me to finally get around to seeing this much beloved 2000s gem. I expected to only be interested in Arkin as the drug-addled, foul-mouthed grandpa, but the entire movie is so warm-hearted and hilarious that I fell in love with it whole hog. The characters are all quirky without being Quriky (tm), if you know what I mean. And I love the final message about just living your life and not worrying about whether or not you're "successful" in the eyes of society. An old theme to be sure, but done so, so well here. (Also, the mercilessly satirical jab at child beauty pageants is pure gold.)

Pom Poko (dir. Isao Takahata, 1994)

I feel like a lot of western anime fans only see Pom Poko as "lol that movie where the tanuki have comically oversized testicles." And yeah, that is indeed something in this movie but there's so much more. It's one of the boldest films I've ever seen, an "animated documentary" (to use Takahata's words) about a village of tanuki waging war against humankind's encroachment upon the natural world. It's such a genre grab-bag, critic Daniel Thomas' description fits it best: "The story weaves through slapstick comedy, social commentary, satire, surrealism, and tragedy. It changes moods much the way the tanuki change form, bending and molding into a new shape, and relentlessly moving forward." I still think Only Yesterday is Takahata's best film, but Pom Poko is strong competition and yet another film I can see myself rewatching many times to come.

Bullet Train (dir. David Leitch, 2022)

I still kick myself for not seeing this in the theater when it came out. Bullet Train is a wonderful lark of an action film. On first watch, I recall thinking it was like a live-action anime shot in a very Tarantino-esque style. I've seen it a few times now and I enjoy the hell out of it every time. And if you don't like it, well, you just might be a Diesel.

That Cold Day in the Park (dir. Robert Altman, 1969)

Another film with a so-so reputation that I really enjoyed. Sandy Dennis (who's gradually becoming one of my favorites with every performance I see from her) plays a virginal rich woman who takes in a handsome young guy one cold day. Her initial kindness quickly curdles into erotic obsession and her house guest has his own secrets. It's an early Robert Altman film and not his most polished work, but that makes it all the more fascinating to me. It's a creepy psychological thriller with a haunting ending, as well as an interesting time capsule of the late 1960s.

Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (dir. Russ Meyer, 1965)

Where has this movie been all my life?? It's a bizarre campfest about three criminally minded go-go dancers who romp across the California desert, strewing all kinds of havoc in their wake. It's such a strange movie that I don't know how to describe it properly: it's got a New Wave sensibility to it all the while indulging in exploitation B-movie nonsense. Definitely a fun film to watch with a group.

Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du commerce, 1080 Bruxelles (dir. Chantal Akermann, 1975)

I finally bit the bullet to watch this one after it topped the 2022 Sight & Sound list. Do I think it's the greatest film of all time? No, but I don't like singling out any work of art for such a designation. Putting aside all the drama that ensued when this was granted GOAT status, Jeanne Dielman is a striking film. It's definitely not something you just throw on casually-- you need to set aside the time to watch it and be in the right headspace. My initial mild interest morphed into a sense of anxious dread as the film ground along its three hour runtime, its protagonist struggling to retain her total sense of self-possession and control as she's thrown off her groove by unexpected events.

The Wicked Lady (dir. Leslie Arliss, 1945)

This is not high art by any means. It's melodrama with a capital M, laying the cheese on thick. Margaret Lockwood plays a devious, scheming femme fatale in 18th century England who's a gold-digging noblewoman by day and a highwaywoman cavorting with bad boy James Mason by night. This is easily the most entertaining of the Gainsborough melodramas I've yet seen, dripping with soap opera antics, sumptuous costumes, and camp-a-plenty.

War and Peace (dir. Sergei Bondarchuk, 1966-1967)

There is no substitute for reading Tolstoy's massive novel, but this 1966 Soviet version is definitely a fine work in its own right. Filmed in three parts, it's about nine hours long and it does a good job capturing the interior lives of the characters in the source material. Everything about it is just breathtaking: the costumes, the sets, the massive numbers of extras during those battle scenes. It's the kind of intellectually and emotionally stirring epic that makes all those hours fly by.

The Sweet Smell of Success (dir. Alexander Mackendrick, 1957)

I often chafe when people act as though all 1950s American cinema were Leave it to Beaver wholesomeness and buttoned up repression. Some of the nastiest Hollywood movies I've ever seen came out of the 1950s and The Sweet Smell of Success is prime among them. Among the best of the late classic noir period, it follows Burt Lancaster as a popular but monstrous newspaper columnist who uses his power to control the lives of everyone around him, particularly his sister, to whom he has a borderline perverse attachment. The dialogue is as sharp ("You're dead, son. Get yourself buried." "I'd hate to take a bite out of you. You're a cookie full of arsenic.") and the cynicism as thick as the best of Billy Wilder. If you love noir, you can't miss out on this one.

What were your favorite film discoveries of 2023?

57 notes · View notes

trulybetty · 1 year ago

Text

dec' x 27 - reunions

Prompt: reunions Pairing: sequins!joel x reader Word Count: 1,129 Warnings: none, just some fluff, maybe a hint of angst? Summary: Joel making the trek through arrivals to come see you (running out of steam, this is the most descriptive it's going to get lol). AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

Joel grumbled to himself as his boots echoed dully off of the plane and onto the boarding bridge, giving the air hostess a silent nod of thanks. Hitching his carry-on higher up onto his shoulder, he stifled a yawn. The plane had left Austin late at gone seven earlier that evening, but with an hour layover in Dallas and the time change, it was now gone midnight. It’d already been a gruelling day, and this late-night flight on top of it making the last five hours feel twice as long, had him wrestling with doubts if the strain of whatever this long-distance thing between you was sustainable.

He was already on a tight schedule, one that the unplanned layover had already eaten into. The downside of picking a flight based on its price as opposed to its convenience. He had less than 48 hours before he had to be back in Austin to pick up Sarah from her mother's. The switch of weekends wasn’t as easy to negotiate with his ex as it had been with Sarah, which further added to the pressure of knowing that every minute away counted.

So with his carry-on on his shoulder, he was grateful waiting for luggage wouldn’t be another delay as he watched weary travellers heading to an empty carousel to wait for their belongings to come through.

As he walked through the quiet terminal, the echo of the handful of passengers he’d departed with bounced off the walls reminding him of the early hour of the morning. The glare of the artificial light bouncing off of the polished concrete was starting to irritate the headache that was starting to nascent.

There were so many of these precious moments snatched between both of your schedules, the odd weekend here, maybe a week squeaked in but the other would be working. He pulled his cap down a little further on his head and tried to ignore the list of things he had to do in the small window when he returned home, and that was before the week could even begin. On top of that, Christmas was fast approaching and it was his ex’s turn to have Sarah, so she already had a small list of things she wanted to do with both him and Tommy that made him more tired to think about. He couldn’t help but wonder if all this effort was worth it. Was all of this enough to sustain whatever it was between the two of you?

Following the signs for arrivals, Joel tried to focus on getting through to the other side and the prospect of a warm bed and sleep. He stopped only momentarily to awkwardly take a picture on his phone of the artwork that took up centre stage between the shuttered stores and the brief formality of making his arrival in the state official.

And then, as he stepped through the sliding doors into the arrivals area, there you were. Despite it being gone one am at that point, the harsh fluorescent lights of the nearly empty airport couldn't dim your smile the moment you laid eyes on him. It was also then that he noticed the homemade sign you were holding, his name scrawled across it in bold letters. The modpodge of glitter and stickers, and enough experience with artwork from Sarah, told him that perhaps you’d had help putting it together from smaller hands. But, somehow, that simple piece of cardboard in your hands made his heart swell.

The sight of you, so alert and eagerly waiting just for him, dissolved all of his lingering uncertainties. The list of reasons he had mentally compiled about why this relationship might be too challenging, too demanding, too impractical, all just faded into insignificance.

Forgotten.

You were there, with sleepy yet shining eyes and a smile that could light up the darkest night, making every cramped flight and travel nuisances feel utterly trivial.

With every step he took towards you, Joel's pace quickened, fueled by the realization that, yes, it was all worth it. Every precious minute he got to spend in your presence was invaluable, no matter how quickly time might slip away. The weariness that had been weighing on his body seemed to evaporate, replaced by a surge of adrenaline at the thought of the limited but incredibly meaningful time you were about to share.

When he finally reached you, words became superfluous. He simply wrapped you in his arms, the sign crumpling between you, and his kiss conveyed everything in the quiet of the airport. This moment, this connection, answered all his questions and dispelled every doubt. This feeling, being here with you, was what validated every mile traveled and every hour spent in the air. It was undeniably, irrevocably worth it.

In the embrace, you both stood, the rest of the world momentarily forgotten. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, a rhythm that seemed to sync with your own. The exhaustion on his face was evident, yet there was an undeniable spark in his eyes.

“You look tired,” you whispered, your voice a soft murmur in the vastness of the empty terminal.

Joel chuckled lightly, his breath warm against your ear. “Worth it, though,” he replied, tightening his hold.

In the embrace, you both stood silent for a moment, the world around you melting into a quiet backdrop. It was in these quiet hours, in the stillness of an almost empty airport, where the reality of your relationship truly sunk in. It wasn't just about overcoming the challenges of distance and time; it was about something deeper, something neither of you had fully experienced before, even in your past relationships.

“I missed you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Joel pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours in the dim airport light. “Missed you,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion.

It was a significant acknowledgment, considering his past with Sarah's mother and your history with your ex. This was all brand new territory for you both.

“It's worth it, though, right?” you asked, your voice laced with a mix of nervousness and excitement.

Joel's response was a smile that reached his eyes, a look of absolute certainty. “Yeah, it is,” he agreed softly.

Then, with a gentle yet firm pull, he threw his arm around your shoulder and planted a tender kiss on the top of your head as you both began to walk out of the airport. The gesture was protective, affectionate, and filled with unspoken promises of a future that, despite the hurdles, seemed brighter than ever. As you stepped out into the warm early morning air, there was a sense of beginning in every step, a new chapter waiting to be written together.

#december x 500 #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction

31 notes · View notes

waltwhitmansbeard · 2 years ago

Note

"I think you should kiss me" from the romantic prompts. No preferences, your choice ^_^

“ i think you should kiss me. “

"Is this too slutty?"

Percy doesn't even lift his head off of the bed. He keeps staring at the same spot on the ceiling he's been staring at for the past forty minutes. "No. Can we go?"

"We can't go if I look slutty, Percival." He can hear her dress swishing as she turns, presumably to achieve new angles in the mirror. "They're a curse, these tits, as much as a gift."

He's certainly not going to argue. "No one cares if you look slutty. It's a banquet, not a coronation."

"But I'm the hostess, dear. I need to achieve some semblance of class."

He's starting to sweat in this jacket, and he's starving. "If I look, I will tell you that you look beautiful, because you always do and I desperately would like to go down before all of our guests eat our food and leave. So you must decide for yourself if you are willing to try on yet another dress or if we are to attend our own party at some point this evening."

She clacks her teeth together nervously. "Do you think I should change?"

He sighs and hauls himself into a seated position. She's breathtaking, an absolute knockout in a shimmering midnight blue dress with a plunging neckline and a dangerous slit up the left side of the skirt. Were he not almost deliriously hungry, he'd cast his vote for staying here and peeling the fabric back inch by inch, devouring each new expanse of skin until he's sweating for much more fun reasons. He meets her eyes in the mirror. "I think you should kiss me."

She rolls her eyes. "You're trying to distract me."

"Trying? Failing, apparently."

She tears herself away from the mirror to come stand between his legs at the side of the bed. He brings his hands to rest on either side of her neck, which is draped with jewels that sparkle like water in sunlight. "Do you like the dress?" She nods, and he pulls her in for a long, languid kiss. "Then I like the dress, and I care extremely little for what everyone down there thinks of it or you."

He knows she cares, can see the protest in her eyes, but he also see the fight, the stubbornness he's fallen in love with every single day for years. "Alright. We can go down."

"Thank the gods." He slips down off of the bed. "Two more minutes and I was going to have to start eating you."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," she purrs, but he tugs her by the hand toward the door, dying to get to the food before he passes out—he has a sneaking suspicion he's going to need to keep his energy up long after their guests leave, and the last thing he wants to do is disappoint his wife, especially when she looks like this.

#ask #ravendruid #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #vox machina #vox machina fic #perc'ahlia #perc'ahlia fic #my fic

101 notes · View notes

reikunrei · 9 months ago

Text

"...the most scared out of all of us."

Several months ago, when I first started playing around with Doctor Who analysis as it pertained to Stranger Things, I decided to watch one of my favorite episodes for fun:

Season 4, Episode 11: Midnight

I posted some screenshots of it because some of the lines/ideas presented in it are very.... y'know. And while I didn't go into the episode with any memory of similarities to st, I found myself surprised by the number of shared details between the two shows. So, I figured... why not make a little postie about it?

So, the episode stars the Doctor and his companion, Donna, visiting a crystalline planet named Midnight. Donna stays behind for a spa day at the so-called "Leisure Palace" that's been erected as a tourist spot while the Doctor goes on a many-hours-long shuttle tour to a sapphire waterfall. The planet itself is extremely dangerous with an entirely uninhabitable atmosphere - there is absolutely no life on the planet, aside from visitors who are in highly equipped buildings and vehicles that stave off the literally vaporizing planet exterior.

Thus, with Donna staying behind, the Doctor is now alone with a bus full of strangers, who tuck in for their long trek to the crystal falls.

Just to get the other characters out of the way for clarity's sake, we have the hostess, a lone passenger named Sky, husband and wife Biff and Val Kane and their son Jethro, and Professor Hobbes and his assistant Dee Dee. There's also a driver and a mechanic on board who are in the cockpit.

The driver explains to them all that they're taking a slight detour, as part of the usual path has been obstructed by debris, and they begin their venture into totally uncharted territory.

While normally the bus has myriad entertainment for the long trip, the Doctor, using his Sonic Screwdriver, shuts down the overwhelming number of devices, which results in all of the passengers talking and getting to know each other better. We get several short scenes of everyone talking and laughing, sharing stories and such. Most notably, the Doctor sits with Sky over lunch and they chat about why they're there. The Doctor explains he didn't come here alone, he's with Donna, but she didn't want to come along the tour. Sky explains that she's recently become single because "she (her partner) needed her own space" and is still getting used to traveling alone.

Prof. Hobbes even gives a brief presentation on the planet Midnight. It's his specialty, and he's been on this exact tour to the falls 14 times now.

This is emphasized a lot through the episode: there's no life on the planet, no one has ever set foot on it or touched it in any actual way, and they really don't know what's out there, aside from the general agreement that there shouldn't be any life that can exist on its surface. As I said earlier, they've even taken a path different from the normal route, so they wind up in places that literally no one has ever been before.

While it's confirmed that both the UD and Dimension X contain forms of life in the shape of the democreatures and the Shadow, the sentiment reminded me a lot of Vecna's whole "unspoiled by mankind" thing; and Henry's exclamation in the VR game that "there's life" in the UD, as if it's a surprise.

Then, suddenly, the bus stops. It shudders, the lights flicker briefly, and they come to a halt for seemingly no reason. Everyone is immediately concerned, especially Sky, who snaps that there's "no point in denying it" when Prof. Hobbes explains that the buses never stop on these tours.

The Doctor weasels his way into the cockpit to talk to the driver and mechanic to see what's up, and they all confirm that nothing is actually wrong, they've simply stopped. As they're stopped, the Doctor goads the driver into lifting the screens on the windows (as seen in the last screenshots) just to get a glimpse of the planet in the few minutes of safety they have behind the glass. However, the mechanic spots something strange.

No further comment necessary.

When the Doctor returns to the other passengers, Sky is still agitated. Dee Dee probes him on his explanation that the engines are "just stabilizing" because they're "micropetrol" engines that don't stabilize. When Prof. Hobbes further asks what's wrong, the Doctor gives a non-answer. Someone throws out the question of how much air they have; Val and Biff overhear and ask, frantic, what they just said. Even the hostess gives a non-answer when asked if they're running out of air, what's going on, etc. etc., until everyone, frightened, begins yelling over one another. The Doctor quiets everyone down and Dee Dee explains that these buses are designed to filter air so they won't run out, shutting down that fear. However, they still don't know why they've stopped.

Then, something bangs on the outside of the bus - two knocks. Prof. Hobbes and Dee Dee try to explain it away with the metal of the bus cooling/settling or rocks falling on the sides. However, the banging happens again and again, moving down the length of the bus. Again, it's (allegedly) impossible for anyone to be outside. The knocking even moves to the back emergency exit, where it begins trying to rattle with the door handle.

"It" is what "Henry" calls the Shadow in TFS rather than "he."

The banging moves to the roof of the bus before trying the main entrance. Biff knocks on the door three times, and the mystery knocking returns the three knocks. The Doctor knocks four times, and it returns four times. Now it's confirmed that it's something sentient. Sky is especially freaked out by this.

When the bus finally settles again, Jethro notices that Sky is sitting, crouched, on the floor at the front of the bus with her hands on her head. The seats around her have been ripped off the floor, as if by some unnatural strength. The Doctor approaches her to comfort her, telling her they're alright and the wall of the bus is still intact, though horribly dented inward.

The hostess can't get ahold of the driver, and thus tries the door to the cockpit, only to find that it's been entirely ripped off of the front of the bus. They slam the door shut before anyone can get sucked out. Thankfully, a distress signal and their location had already been sent out, but the driver and mechanic are dead, "reduced to dust." Like they were...... dematerialized......

The Doctor re-approaches Sky in an attempt to get her to come out of hiding. Jethro comments that the knocking has stopped, but what if that means it's now inside? "It was heading for her," he says as he nods toward Sky, who the Doctor is finally pulling out of hiding. However, when she turns to look at them all, she's unnatural. Her gaze flicks rapidly between everyone as she stares, wide-eyed and blank, like she's studying them. The Doctor cocks his head at her, and she cocks hers back. He asks her name, and she repeats it back to him.

He begins asking if she's hurt, etc., and she repeats the same questions and phrases right back to him. When the others start speaking, she whips her head toward them and echoes their words as well.

Again, no further comment necessary, aside from a quick link to Em's post about doppelgangers and making a special highlight of "when One kills, he consumes."

This continues to frighten everyone, who begin talking over each other and yelling at Sky to stop copying them when she, obviously, continues. Jethro gleefully begins shouting silly things to get her to repeat, specifically yelling "666." Ah, Victor Creel, emo kid Colin Morgan would've believed you when you said it was a demon.

Only when the backup power system kicks on does everyone get startled out of their panic, but as the hostess is telling everyone to calm down, they find that Sky's condition has progressed...

Here I also want to point out the growing change in Sky's physical demeanor. At first, as seen in the previous set of screenshots, her expression is fairly blank. However, as seen above, she starts to appear almost smug. And this continues through the episode; even the cadence of her voice is almost sing-song-y and smarmy. This isn't actually pointed out in the show, nor is there any clear explanation offered, but in my opinion it's likely due to the entity feeding off of/finding glee in the fear its behavior instills in the passengers, and likely beginning to pull from the actual personalities of the people on board to form something other than a blank slab repeating words.

The Doctor speaks with to her directly again, asking if it's really Sky, asking how she's doing this, and pondering what the "next stage" is. When someone asks if it's not Sky anymore, the Doctor says he doesn't think so and ushers everyone to the back of the bus, as far away from Sky as possible (though this doesn't stop her from echoing them).

The Doctor urges them to not even look at Sky, and Dee Dee quotes Christina Rossetti's "Goblin Market," specifically the lines, "We must not look at goblin men, we must not buy their fruits: Who knows upon what soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots." I don't quite have the bandwidth to delve deeper into this whole poem, as it's quite long, but shout out to the word "roots."

Another shout out to the word "sick" here, especially when we were told earlier in the episode that Sky is queer. Thank you Stav for your words in the words show analysis.

Much like how the Shadow was confirmed in TFS to feed off of fear/is triggered by fear, this entity clearly sought out the fear in Sky and found her a suitable target. It's never outright confirmed or explained, but this is a fairly easy assumption to reach based off of how frantic Sky was, more so than anyone else on board. As for "monster" getting struck down in favor of her just being a woman... well, no further comment necessary, once again.

The Doctor speaks to everyone about how while there's a consciousness inside of Sky, she might still be in there and they have to help her. However, everyone is too afraid to get near her, to the point that the hostess suggests they throw her out instead. Val cries about how she can't even look at Sky's eyes (a sentiment that's been stated already and comes up again; they're frightened by how she's looking at them, which reminds me of the weirdness with eyes and eye-color changing in ST that James and Em have spoken about).

There's a lot of back and forth, with most people hesitantly then enthusiastically agreeing that they should throw her out, because maybe if they kill the physical body, it'll remove the threat, but the Doctor pleads with them not to kill anyone. He asks if they really want to meet this new life form and show they're just a bunch of murderers, or will they decide they're better than that?

Ultimately, all fearful, they, one by one, agree that they could, in fact, throw her out with no remorse.

So much good st2 language, mwah tasty.

When people still don't back down, the Doctor says they'll have to go through him first if they want to throw out Sky, and everyone sorta just goes "...okay." The Doctor asks, again, if any of them could really grab hold of someone and chuck them out the door. His insistence begins making them suspicious, and they all start to turn on him. The Doctor insists he's frightened and confused just like them; he isn't in on this, he's not "working with" Sky, but he, trying to hide his identity and being naturally fascinated by this never-before-seen lifeform, only makes them more wary of him. Val even says that "his eyes are the same as hers... It's a symptom!" and he's accused of lying from the very start of their trip. They all begin to believe that he's somehow involved with what's going on with Sky and threaten to throw him out with her.

Then, Jethro, again, notices a change.

She's latched onto the Doctor alone, likely because of his heightened fear due to having his life threatened. Val once again uses this as evidence that they're working together, but the Doctor ignores her and crouches in front of Sky. He asks her why she's "captured" his speech. He wonders if the entity has picked up that he's the smartest one there as a Time Lord rather than a human, and maybe it's chosen him because he's the only one who can help, whether it be giving the entity "life or form or consciousness or voice," and insists she doesn't have to "steal" it. However, he also sees the look in her eyes, and gets the feelings it's not help the entity wants.

He promises to help her, asking "Do we have a deal?" But the words come out of Sky's mouth first.

When the others ask the Doctor what's happening, Sky answers first, saying, "I think it's moved. I think it's letting me go." As they speak to Sky, they all come to the conclusion that this entity has moved from her and into the Doctor instead. Dee Dee, however, seems unconvinced. She's ignored, though, in favor of listening to Sky as she expresses that she's "coming back to life."

When they get Sky back onto her feet, this conversation ensues:

It's a lot of similar language to stuff about the UD and the flayings, especially irt Will in st2 and Henry listed as being "possessed" in the Weekly Watcher and possibly having an exorcism. I continue to be shocked by how so many episodes in Doctor Who revolve around concepts that are so akin to the Shadow.

Sigh. Once again, no additional comment necessary, aside from another Stav post about blood.

I want to emphasize the change in pronoun use. Throughout ST, most often the Mind Flayer/Shadow and Vecna have had "he" used for both of them, as they've become conflated. However, in TFS, "it" is solely used to refer to the Shadow. Throughout this dw episode, "it" and "she" were used quite interchangeably when speaking about Sky, and same here, we get this use of "it" and "he" for the Doctor, starting out separate with "it went into him" until he just becomes one whole entity under "he." It's conflating things, narrowing it down to be "easier to understand."

Dee Dee shouts that it's not the Doctor who's doing it, he's "just repeating." However, that's what it did the first time, so it's the same this time, right? Dee Dee disagrees, saying that this seems like the progression the Doctor talked about earlier; this is the next stage, not the entity having moved to a new host.

Val, frustrated, insists that she saw it move from her to him, despite none of them having seen such a thing, simply assuming it instead. Even Jethro is hesitant to agree with his mom, but ultimately does so when she pushes him. Everyone begins arguing as Dee Dee continues to say that it's not inside the Doctor, and Sky smugly says that, "That's how he does it. He makes you fight. Creeps into your head... and whispers... inside." It's all very “Henry” being goaded into killing animals by the Shadow in TFS, and the Shadow and Shadow Brenner talking to and taunting Henry in the VR game.

Being egged on and having their assumptions confirmed by Sky, Biff grabs the Doctor and begins dragging him toward the door to throw him out. The Doctor, now frozen due to being controlled/taken over by the entity, cannot fight back and simply continues repeating what Sky says.

However, Sky begins saying things that, through the episode, were established as being things the Doctor specifically says (the phrases "molto bene" and "allons-y" being common catchphrases in this episode and through David Tennant's three seasons). The hostess takes immediate notice of this, since she was present for the times he used these phrases, and she finally really realizes that Sky has taken his voice. Under the clamor, Sky is saying that, "The starlight waits! The emptiness. The Midnight sky."

Acting fast, the hostess rushes Sky and grabs her, hits the button to the emergency exit door, and throws out herself and Sky. The door automatically shuts behind them before anyone else can be affected by the atmosphere, instantly cutting off the Doctor from the entity, and he falls to the floor, muttering that, "It's gone, it's gone..."

Golly, did I say this post would be little? Sorry, I am incapable of making these posts without listing out the entire plot of the episodes so you guys have full context! Anyway.

What I really wanted to talk about irt this episode was the immense focus on fear, and specifically fear of the unknown and how that makes people behave in illogical, dangerous ways. It's a lot of knee-jerk reactions and wanting to swiftly remove the threat before fully understanding what the threat actually is. We don't even know if Sky could have actually been saved! She very well may have still been alive underneath the entity, but in the mess of everything, they couldn't take the time to figure it out and actually try to save her.

Obviously, all of that made me think of things with the Shadow, and especially of Will in st2 when he fully changes as a person/seems to be entirely taken over with everyone else being hard-pressed to break through to him.

However, more specifically, everything else about it just screams the situation around Henward, and specifically what we see in TFS.

"Henry" is dealing with something unknown having taken over his mind and body, feeling urges that do not belong to him that he's being pushed into anyway. But what drives the mess deeper and deeper is the fact that people (Virginia, Patty, etc.) are frightened of him. They think it's him and not something else making him do these awful things. They refuse to actually help him, or even listen to him to figure out what would actually best help him, thus condemning him... essentially to death, just like Sky, all because they simply don't understand and are scared of that.

They listen to their own fear instead of understanding that Henry is scared too. This is also an issue with the fandom at large, but we won’t get into that rn.

Similarly, the Party and the rest of our main cast are, understandably, scared of Vecna. However, it’s clouded their judgement. We all know I’m a huge proponent of the “there’s more than one guy” theory, and thus this issue of conflating people and things leads to poor decisions when it comes to trying to fix the issue, ultimately resulting in a worse outcome.

In Midnight, the rest of the passengers, terrified and frazzled, believe the first and simplest solution presented to them: the entity has left Sky and instead entered the Doctor. Therefore, if they throw the Doctor out of the bus, the problem will be solved; they'll be safe. However, obviously, this isn't the case, and due to their misunderstanding, they would turn a completely innocent man to dust and still have the entity residing among them.

Similarly, in st4, we're presented with a "new" villain: Vecna. Our team has discovered that the source behind everything that's happened to them is this one guy locked in another dimension, hidden in (more or less) plain sight. He is wreaking havoc and boasting about it, but it feels like a very big, flashy way to cover up another, more long-existing villain that's been present since the start of the show: HNL and, specifically, Brenner.

Take a victim -> Push him into unsavory acts -> Mold him into a villain, whether in real life or in retellings (lies) of his existence -> Hide in his shadow and fall out of focus.

It all feels a little too planned, y'know? Because the beginning of everything can always be traced back to the lab, but suddenly it's like everyone has forgotten the roots of the tree and decided to chop off one of the branches and call it good.

Which leads me into a brief thought I had about NINA when I was watching this dw episode, which was spurred by the characters claiming their voices were "stolen" or "captured" by Sky. Especially once Sky fully captured the Doctor's voice and was speaking "on her own." She uses his voice to goad the others into killing him, which, presumably, would have given the entity full control/absorption of his voice.

I've said it already, but the goading feels very akin to TFS Brenner saying things to Henry like "you liked it" irt killing animals, putting words in his mouth and conflating Henry's personal feelings with the desires of the Shadow. Or even of the Shadow and Shadow Brenner taunting Henry in the VR game, telling him that he always loved snapping bones and killing things, but we never actually hear Henry confirm this. The Shadow and Brenner are often "stealing" Henry's voice by way of putting words in his mouth and thoughts in his head that he wouldn't have on his own.

But circling back to NINA specifically, it makes me think of Henward being used as a puppet for Brenner's meddling. Brenner has stolen Henward's voice, his looks, his mannerisms, in order to say and do things that Henward may never have said or done on his own in order to paint a specific picture for El.

And, again, because El is scared, because she doesn't understand what's going on or have the resources to even try, she simply lashes out. Remove the threat and she'll be safe. No matter if this is the real threat; he's an immediate threat in her eyes, therefore he's her target. Killing him is the closest answer she has to "solving" everything.

It's high-stakes situations, fear of the unknown, and mob mentality that results in the passengers on Midnight and our Hawkins gang having their knees knocked out from under them. Without taking the time to think, to stay calm, to mull over their options, they will always come to the wrong conclusions and not fix things like they hoped.

In st4, they're scared and on a time crunch, and with only some of the necessary information at their disposal, they're going to work with what they've got, even if they'd find contradictions if they looked just a little bit harder. They have their immediate threat, someone they can point at and see harm happening because of them, so why see if there's someone else hiding in his shadow? Why waste their, quite literally, precious time when they can, theoretically, still do good with what they have?

#st dw #stranger things #i say things

19 notes · View notes

endlessly-cursed · 1 year ago

Text

A beautiful white owl flew to your windowsill, tapping against your window. You opened it, surprised to see an owl to your window at such time.

You notice the envelope: with red and blue, it has the Viscountess Primrose's symbol. Intrigued, you open it, careful not to ruin the rich and delicate material. It reads:

12th of November, 1900

My dearest friend,

If you are reading this, then you have been cordially invited to my annual Christmas Event! After last year's ball, much has happened. I am now a married woman, and with a little one on the way.

But I am not about to dwell on the past! I shall expect you at my estate's gates at 6:30pm sharp. I shall list besides what events to expect.

Have a good day! I hope to see you there.

Cordially,

Lady Primrose Somerset, Viscountess of Winbourne and Countess of Harrendale.

I. The Story

It is said that, every two hundred years, the moon eclipses the sun and the earth is engulfed in a waning white moon, a winter solstice that represents good fortune to those who have been kind and giving to their loved ones, and a lifetime of tragedy to those who have sinned shamelessly.

Primrose, though not superstitious, is a tad worried about the effects, for the last Somerset to have witnessed such solstice, Maria Elisabeth Somerset, had ended up catching a deadly illness, and would die disgraced in a duel a few years later, as a punishment for having usurped Winbourne's position to her cousin.

Now with a baby on the way, and recently married, she's doing everything she can to earn the favour of the solstice so she may be rewarded with good fortune. Hopefully, Christmastime is a time of miracles.

II. The Prompts

4th of December- Back at Winbourne

You're back at Winbourne for Christmas! Either relish in the hundreds years old manor, or reminisce your past years in the ball! Don't forget to congratulate the newlyweds...

5th of December- The Welcome Ball III

The ball has begun! Will you be the belle of the ball, or lurk in a corner, pining for you unattending loved one?

6th of December- Cocktail Party in the Gazebo

Lady Primrose has renovated her gazebo for the afternoon! It is a perfect time to catch up with the hostess and your friends! There is also a legend that whoever proposes at midnight will swoop their beau off their feet...

7th of December- Croquet On Snow

The game is on! Will you beat the invincible viscountess, or will she dunk you to the ground?

8th of December- Archery Shooting

Since the viscountess' delicate condition won't allow her to host a grouse shooting, she instead has for you an archery contest. Will your aim be true...or will someone else steal your shot and more?

9th of December- The Winter Masquerade

The solstice is here! Dress up as a socialite from the 1710s and try not to mix up the hostess with somebody...or worse, your beau!

10th of December- It's Beginning To Look Like Christmas

Your time in Winbourne is up! Bid your beau farewell for the holidays, or don't! Don't forget to thank the hostesses for their hospitality!

III. Main Rules

No NSFW please! Keep things either PG or SFW, this is Xmas

RSVP before December 1st! Write your letter of acceptance for the weekend in any way you'd like. The moment the clock strikes 12, the RSVP will be closed. You may add four OCs of your choice, no more, no less

Once you've RSVP'd, at least one post is mandatory on the event, it doesn't matter what day

Try to follow the narrative! The solstice is supposed to either give good or bad luck. Create a story of your OCs around that

Tag me in your posts!!!!! I want to see them all, no matter what are they

Tag your posts as #wwtgsolstice23

I won't accept people who I've blocked, go away geez

If I don't tag you, then you can claim an RSVP in my asks and DMs

IV. Taglist

@gaygryffindorgal @potionboy3 @hphmmatthewluther @nicos-oc-hell @camillejeaneshphm @cursedvaultss @cursed-herbalist @cursedlegacies @foundersofhogwartslegacy @unfortunate-arrow @catohphm @cursebreakerfarrier @that-scouse-wizard

#weekend with the grays: winter solstice #wwtgsolstice23 #hphl #hogwarts legacy #hp victorian era #oc: primrose gray #weekend with the grays #my events

20 notes · View notes

spontaneousglitterbees · 1 year ago

Text

Trying to upload once a week on YT and I haven't even made the trackart, but I'm excited about this one if anyone knows where to find a higher quality off vocal please let me know

EDIT: Trackart and lyrics!

Part of the Evillious Chronicles by mothy(AkunoP) Referenced pricechecktranslations' transcript and octosan's translyrics UST by by NeeMiSo Cover, Mix, Thumbnail + Trackart, Translyrics by glitterbees

Notes!

I'd be remiss not to thank octosan for their translyric of "Madam Merry-Go-Round is she" in the chorus, which proceeded to get stuck in my head for several days straight until I made this.

I gave Alice the royal We both in reference to her position, Queen of Levianta, and the OSS novels.

This is also where I had a bit of fun with host/ess as in 'hosting a party' and host as in 'a whole host of people'. Happy coincidence!

Also given the novels and Alice's identity as MotC/Irina and variations therein: calling her a Clockwork gear seemed thematically and literally appropriate, like the figurine made to dance in a music box

Rather than noting how Alice's face is familiar, I leaned into the novels again (can you tell I just read Punishment and part of this is my processing it) with the way nobody has actually seen the queen's face in Quite Some Time. Until Gammon, anyway.

Alice's hands are certainly not pure by the end of Evillious, but technically time is transient here, making it impossible to know if this is facetious or not. Seemed apt. Plus holding a smile in your hands is just a dash of unreality that fits the vibe I think, as representation for the abstraction of interpersonal warmth and comfort

I'm still not positive just which "vow" Alice is talking about here, so I tried to leave it ambiguous

Final verse, same as the firt! Only with a few words mixed around, nodding to how on some level Alice is aware of her fate to repeat over. And over. And-

Where should we go next on our tour of Evillious?

Lyrics!

Welcome, all, to your new happy place! Pardon Us as We undo these chains binding you to one time and space.

Here's a tip from your Host: See the house brimming with ghosts! Give the ferris wheel a spin, don't be shy, tonight is yours so strap in.

But hey, if you find you need a break from the flurry of fun and games, our cold cradle will hold your weary frame….

Madam Merry Go Round are We, Ruling the park as the reigning queen. Madam Merry Go Round are We, always caught in the same machine.

From the top of the carousel you see in ever shifting Utopian glee…

Madam Merry Go Round are We, spinning through all the old worlds debris. Madam Merry Go Round are We. Nonetheless, We keep the same routine.

Round and round as it whirls fro and to, don't fret about a thing that you thought you knew!

So then if you want your wish to come true, I'm afraid you'll have to wait. So sit back, relax, and join in the queue.

What's that gleaming through the shade, but the famed Shadow Parade? They've been marching their whole lives to the beat of an end they've yet to find.

And as the clock strikes the midnight hour, see, desire for this in your power! It's just the role of your Hostess to oblige….

Madam Merry Go Round are We, Beautiful face hidden by a screen. Madam Merry Go Round are We, lost as a forgotten memory.

In her hands pure as driven snow, there she holds a smile warm and amiable.

Madam Merry Go Round are We. Even if you think your love is key, Madam Merry Go Round are We. Those fleeting feelings are all a dream.

As a vow made between two on both sides never lasted for long and was left behind….

Madam Merry Go Round are We, Ruling this land as the reigning queen. Madam Merry Go Round are We, Clockwork gear trapped in the machine.

At the top of the carousel you see, in ever rhyming Utopian glee,

Madam Merry Go Round are We. Spinning on through the new world's debris, Madam Merry Go Round are We. Every cycle the same routine.

Even if you have no way home, You should have known the only fault here's your own!

#ec #evillious #evillious chronicles #synthv #synthesizer v #vocaloid #solaria #synthv solaria

21 notes · View notes

pondslime · 1 year ago

Note

Ok stupid question but I had to ask BC I love the way you answer things haha 💓💓 (Sorry if that was worded weirdly)

So Jonesy (I think that's the dog's name in House of Wax) from all the Sinclair brothers who do you Jonesy likes the most and who do you think likes Jonesy the best?

it's not weird at all!! now that my HOW brainworms are back, any excuse to ramble incoherently about this dumbass movie and the characters is like. PURE gold. lmao 💀

okay, so imo, vinny is definitely the favorite. the first place where we see jonesy in the movie is in the wax museum and that is def not a coincidence!! they were hanging out!! jonesy just got bored of watching her dad labor over the fine details of the wax titty & wandered upstairs.

they're best friends!! I just know it!! that shot where vincent's turning wade to wax? and jonesy jumps up on the bed? the CUTEST. rip wade 🙏 but?? I adore that sm.

and he takes the puppy w/him when he goes to murder blake & paige. unhinged dog dad behavior if I've ever seen it. I can 100% see them both quietly coexisting in the same space together for hours on end—vincent sculpting and sketching, jonesy napping next to him. padding upstairs in the middle of the night to have a midnight snack. UGH

I v much also subscribe to the line of thinking that lester doesn't live in corpsetown & has a lil shack of his own in the woods. but he absolutely hustles up to the house routinely to bring jonesy weird roadkill snacks and play w/her in the backyard. if anyone in the family is committed to getting her energy out, it's v much him. they're just outside for hours n hours tossing a mangled deer leg around and kicking up dirt. I feel.

as for bo. well. he v much strikes me as the kind of guy who pretends to be fairly ambivalent about the fact they have a dog running around. if jonesy ever stirs up trouble or chews thru smthn, he's the first one to be like, "UH??? it's your fuckin' dog?? I ain't never ask for this??"

v much onery dad energy. he catches vincent giving jonesy some food off his plate and immediately starts talking about how he's spoiling the damn dog and THIS is why she knocked over the garbage can & got coffee grounds and eggshells all over the kitchen floor.

never mind that he's always giving her scraps of whatever random concoction he's eating. she's chowing down on eggo waffles and beef jerky and hostess snacks whenever he's around. but no, it's vincent who spoils her. sure, jan.

he wants a huntin and fishin dog, but he's not much of a hunter or a fisher. so he gets a couch potato that sits next to him while he drinks beer and rewatches old spaghetti westerns. and he totally doesn't care about it or like her. totally.

#I'd love to find out the true origin of the name jonesy tbh. it's fanon. and I know it's a ref to alien.#but like? whomst started using it first? bc everyone has adopted it @ this point #obsessed how this one headcanon took over the whole community omg #that's def a claim to fame lmao #it's cute!! love that our girl has birthed so many cute fan theories #even tho I think? the puppy in the film is also a boy? don't quote me on that but. I THINK #and even tho I'm v in love w/these boys having a female dog. the idea of the pup bein a boy and this whole dumb town just bein Boy Central?#kinda love that idea lmao #@ this point calling the dog anything else in a fic would feel like cognitive dissonance from the fanon. bc it's so v widespread #EDIT: I literally just googled it and found the source! @slash-em-up #and it's not an alien ref actually. she's named after jocelyn jones from tourist trap. v interesting #sinclair brainrot hours #asks #anonymous #long post #when I first got into this fandom I thought about mixing it up in a fic & naming the puppy smthn else.#I almost never mention her in fics bc it bugged me that we didn't have a canon name lmao 😭 bc my brain is wired strangely ig fhsjsgshsgsg #but I love knowing the fanon lore. v nice v cool v tasty

13 notes · View notes

besidesitstoowarm · 1 year ago

Text

"Midnight" thoughts

i'll be honest i did not super enjoy this rewatch. everyone was so goddamn stupid and annoying it was kind of hard to sit through

i do like bottle episodes and wish we got more of them. donna has a nice relaxing spa day and the doctor tries to go on a field trip and has the worst day of his life. i like how he short-circuits the various bits of entertainment so that they can all talk to each other instead, it was cute. we briefly see rose on one of the music video screens when the doctor's back is turned

bus stops and something outside starts knocking. it starts with two, the dad knocks back 3 times and it repeats, the doctor knocks 4 times and it repeats. there's only one thing i think of when i hear 4 knocks and i'm not sure if it was an intentional reference or not

so the power goes out briefly and something enters the newly divorced lesbian and she's frozen, unable to do anything except repeat what everyone is saying. first normally, then it speeds up so she's speaking at the same time. it's suitably creepy and interesting that this thing is learning, mimicking. i also like that we never see it, learn nothing about it, and have no idea what it is or what it wants. the professor continually insisting nothing could possibly live on midnight just pissed me off, motherfucker do you know what lives in deep sea vents?! have you seen what tardigrades can do?! extonic sun or not

it's a classic hysteria story, like the house md episode set on an airplane. if i were there i would simply not become hysterical so it's hard to relate to these people, lol. eventually the doctor gets possessed too and they go to throw him out the airlock but the hostess realizes the thing never left sky so she murder-suicides them and everyone is saved. the doctor asking at the end what the hostess's name was and no one knows cause they never asked was a good touch

i think i must be spoiled from the last episodes or something cause everyone felt so goddamn annoying. no one was likable and i would have started throwing hands with that annoying ass couple like immediately. i do want to give a shoutout to colin morgan, who was cast in "merlin" bc of his performance in this episode, and the professor who was played by david troughton, son of patrick :) the episode was also directed by alice troughton but she has no relation

so yeah, kind of mid (-night) tbh. really curious about how i'll feel about the next one as i've never rewatched and didn't get all the hype last time

#doctor who #besides its too rewatch #dw s4 #Midnight

4 notes · View notes

chaoticremnants-wattpad · 2 years ago

Photo

Hi! :) I posted my first oneshot on Wattpad and chose to also upload my stories on here as well. I hope you enjoy my first Jake x MC oneshot!

~~~~

Duskwood felt like a foreign land after being away for so long. He had always dreamt of moving back and settling in after running his entire life, but it was nothing more than a distant dream... one he could never have; one he thought was unrealistic. Perhaps in another life, Duskwood would’ve been home. After some time, the boy accepted the fact that his life would consist of poor takeout food, hiding in motels and moving around frequently. Perhaps it was the life he thought he deserved… but everything changed when he met her.

A small café in the heart of the town by the name of Midnight Bloom was bustling with life. It had recently opened, explaining the crowd in such a quiet town. Jake sat across the square hidden behind a computer screen as his fingers glided effortlessly across the keyboard due to years of experience.

A distant laugh made his ears perk up a bit, the familiar sound breaking his concentration long enough to tear his gaze from the brightness of the screen, fingers frozen over the keys.

There she was, approaching a table with a smile on her face, strands of hair coiled around her fingers as she finished braiding the tip of her hair. The boy sat there, no words capable of explaining her beauty in person. Captivated by the girl across the street, it took everything in him to not walk over and take her into his arms and leave this town behind.

Their relationship flashed across his memory, recalling the late night phone calls and the future they planned together after all the madness came to an end. Jake was determined to see that come to fruition – willing to fight with his last breath and draw blood for it if it came down to that.

The distant chatter brought him back to reality, gaze fixated on his girl. The black haired boy found himself smiling.

Would she recognize him? Maybe he’d be able to catch her on her break. Or maybe –

No.

The boy bit down on the very tip of his tongue, silencing any thoughts that dared to evade his mind. He couldn’t risk the safety of the girl he loved; he swore to protect her. He couldn’t do that to her. He had already done enough to flip her life upside down in the few short months they’ve known one another.

With furrowed brows, Jake cleared his throat before turning his gaze back to keyboard, brewing silently. Perhaps it was selfish to hold her back from pursuing other relationships, but he just couldn't bring himself to let her go. He wanted her more than he could possibly fathom, unable to deny their connection as soon as they began talking. She was the first one to break through his walls and care enough to learn who he truly was.

The fool…

In all these years, he avoided growing close to anyone after what happened between himself and Hannah. He couldn't afford to put anyone else in harm's way, but this was different.

He was in love with her.

Hours felt like days as the cafe served its final customer; the hostess walking a young couple towards the entrance. The girl flipped the sign in the window while glancing across the square out to the darkness, a deep breath of relief escaping her mouth.

“Another day in Duskwood…” The girl mumbled quietly to herself, a small frown forming on her lips as her eyes skimmed the tree lining in the distance. “I wonder where you are right now.” Exhaling, the brunette spun on her heel and began collecting her belongings, slinging her purse across her body.

Before she could turn the knob on the front door, a kind voice caught her attention from the kitchen. “Hey, kiddo. I hate to bother you after a long day, but do you think you could take the trash out before you go?”

It was hard to say no to Grant, the older gentleman showing her nothing but kindness since the day she started the job.

“Of course, Grant. I’m happy to help.” With that, she made her way to the back door, a black garbage bag in tow. Walking into the alley, she tossed the bag into the dumpster before heading back in, using the nearest sink to wash up one last time.

With a wave, the girl wished her co-workers a good night and stepped outside, the cool air washing over her immediately. Had she not been running late for work, she would’ve packed a coat, crossing her arms over her chest as she began walking down the alley. It’s been a few months since they found Hannah, finally able to rest after all that has happened.

Fortunately, her relationship with Jake remained intact, throwing herself at her phone whenever he called or simply messaged. The butterflies still fluttered within her stomach as she recalled the first time Jake told her that he loved her. The euphoric feeling was unlike anything she had ever experienced, never admitting that she cried that night – mostly due to fear for his personal safety. It has been a few days since she’s heard from him, praying desperately that the boy was okay.

Distracted by her own thoughts, the girl collided with a wall of flesh when turning the corner, stopping instantaneously in her steps. Without glancing up, the brunette sputtered out an alarmed response, “Oh! I’m so sorry! I –” The words disappeared in her throat as her gaze flickered up to meet the person who she bumped into, only to be met by familiar blue eyes that she’s only seen through a computer monitor.

“Jake..?” She mumbled, voice breaking softly as her voice pitched an octave, vision blurring with tears. Before she could react, his arms wrapped around her form, pulling the girl into him as his warmth consumed her. Perching her chin on his shoulder, she held him close as she whispered. “I can’t believe it. You’re really here? In Duskwood?” She pulled away enough to gaze up at him, tiny hands clutching his forearms gently. “Wait, for how long? Holy crap… I have so many questions!” She raised her voice a bit, Jake’s eyes twinkling with amusement at the change in her demeanor.

She was simply exquisite, feeling his heart flutter in delight at their reunion. “I missed you. I couldn't help myself. Seeing you tonight, it reminded me of what I’m fighting for.” Leaning down to press his forehead against hers, Jake let out a soft sigh, shoulders easing as he felt her hands cup his face. Her fingers felt like icicles against his warmth, breaking away once he realized she had no jacket. “You’re freezing... Here.” Shrugging the coat off, he ignored her quiet protest as the fabric wrapped around her shoulders, smiling proudly to himself. “There you go.”

“Jake. You’re all I’ve been thinking about. I didn’t hear from you for a bit. I thought –” The crack in her voice was enough to alarm him, brows knitted in anguish. “I thought they found you and I lost you forever.” The street lamps overhead illuminated the tears in her eyes, Jake taking a step closer.

“Nothing is taking me away from you, okay? I had to go dark for a bit so I could come to Duskwood without them knowing. I don’t have long, but I’d rather spend whatever time I have with you.” His blue orbs softened as he kissed her knuckles, smiling against her skin as the girl chuckled happily.

“I’m just happy that you’re safe. After everything we’ve been through, I’m certain of one thing.” She stepped closer to the boy, chin tilted up confidently to meet his gaze. “I love you, Jake Donfort. With everything that I am. I love you.”

Jake felt his heart slam rhythmically against his rib cage. Every concern – every fear he had – disappeared in that moment. For the first time in his life, Jake felt wanted by someone, a concept that was far-fetched to him. He couldn’t place his finger on what he did to deserve her. He sure as hell wouldn’t dare question it either.

With no hesitation, Jake brought his hand up to cup one side of her face, lowering his head to press a gentle kiss to her lips, savoring the faint taste of cherry gloss. The girl's hands dropped down to wrap around his waist, pulling him close enough to align their bodies. Breaking the kiss with a soft smack of their lips, he found himself leaning into her with their foreheads pressed together. “I love you too. So, so much. Don’t ever forget that. I swore to protect you, didn’t I?”

Feeling nothing but pure bliss, the pair shared a quiet chuckle, unable to wipe the grins off their faces, exchanging a few more kisses under the night sky.

#jake donfort #i am jake #duskwood #duskwood oneshot #jake x mc #hannah donfort #moonvale #everbyte studios #duskwood everbyte #everbyte

8 notes · View notes

ohsweetflips · 2 years ago

Text

warning 4. i am going off abt a jgy post from 2020 bc it's basically "tell me u didnt understand the character without saying that u didnt understand the character" and ik it's from 2020 i am just flabbergasted. i dont usually do this but it's almost midnight and i saw red for a little while

first things first, obligatory "i love jgy and he is one of my faves" tagline. bc im abt to tear a fraction of a take apart bc it talks abt jgy as the villain in an incredibly incorrect way

second things second:

[id: a text post saying, "some facts: nobody likes jgy unless they're fucking him. he's not charming! he's a sycophantic lil snot whole platitudes and niceties are transparently hollow. the really skilled act comes out when he appears to put down the nervous hostess schtick and turns into someone vulnerable and wronged." /end]

not 2 be that person who screenshots posts from 2020 but this is driving me up a wall. this is quite literally not even in the way of "the novel literally states that jgy was overall well-liked bc even if someone didn't love them, they didn't hate him" but also like. a lot of the people basically pre-parlor-room-reveal who didn't like jgy, didn't like him bc he was the son of a prostitute. it was classism. they only "accepted" him bc he made himself palatable so he would not be scorned. bc he was the son of a prostitute. that's it. and if u pull the "well wang/xian knew he was the villain" im going to remind u that wang/xian had a fucking corpse arm (or sabre, depending on the adaptation) literally leading them to jgy. that was their fucking red flag, not wwx in his first life being like "hm i dont think jgy is genuine :("

im not even gonna comment on the "he isnt charming" bc that's just quite literally not true. like im sorry, i will look past my own personal favorable thoughts on jgy and tell u this: u literally cannot manipulate that many people without charm. that is kinda how manipulation works. this should not be news.

also why is it so hard for some of u to get through ur skulls that "victim" and "person who does harm" are not mutually exclusive like jgy can be--and is--both. if u stop seeing these two things as The Binary That Cannot Intersect then ur media analysis will be so much better i promise

there is a post that goes around occasionally that talks abt how sc/um vi/llain is mx/tx's self-fulfilling prophecy based on how people treat md/zs and honestly sqh was so right for saying that no one knows how to treat villains normally. the moment someone is like "hey the villain had pitiful things happen to them" y'all start shitting urselves. bc obviously, good things can only happen to good people, and bad things can only happen to bad people, so if a bad thing happens to a character, it must be bc they are a bad person who deserved it and should never receive any sympathy ever for anything that has happened in their life.

i swear 2 god some of this just feels like mx/tx is the one writing cool, nuanced, multi-faceted characters and then u guys are like "i knew this character was going 2 be evil bc they are so obviously gross and bad and everyone has always hated them for good reason. no i am not at all affected by knowing that the protags are tailing this character. wait what do u mean the protags found out this character was the villain through Tangible Evidence and didn't just go based off of vibes alone?"

like im all for loving ur villains and saying "hey they did stuff that was fucked up" but jgy is a narrative villain who had shitty stuff done to him that made him the way he is. things that, honestly, are very pitiful. and i, for one, love him! i feel bad for things that happen to him, i say "hey jgy what the fuck," and most of all, i just love the character, vices and virtues and all! it is possible to feel bad for a character and love said character and also not be like "so thus everything he did is fine and should have no narrative consequence." i am begging u guys like please these stories are for adults can we move past analysis we would do in high school

(also "nobody likes jgy unless they're fucking him" like okay yeah just throw out the whole nuances of 3/zun as a whole and do ur analysis through shipping. i would write this off as a joke that isn't funny if it didn't precede. everything else here. this is why people say that viewing everything in media through shipping leads to flat, one-dimensional analysis. <3)

#listen i know i came to md/zs thru c/ql but like. c/ql did do jgy dirty

5 notes · View notes

byulsgrease · 3 years ago

Text

intercepted

(spy!au moonbyul x afab reader, ~1k words, from this req)

content: fingering, ruined orgasm but not intentionally so

“Why do you always get to drive?” pointedly moving your head to face the side of hers, shifting your body to dig your left shoulder into the back of your seat. Some stakeout you’re having tonight— you’ve been watching an unmoving hotel room door for hours now. Your limbs ache from the stillness but you’re prohibited from exiting the vehicle. Pretty basic principle in the whole “not blowing cover” situation.

“Because you’re a shit driver, that’s why,” Byulyi states with a laugh. “You’re the better shot, anyway.”

“Uh huh, and when was the last time we had a high speed chase?”

“Last week,” she deadpans.

“Exactly! I’m dying of boredom over here.” Your body teems with pent up energy, even though it’s well past midnight. You’d kill to stretch your legs. Almost enough to wish that your target would just flee on foot so you’d have the chance to run and chase her. But that would require a lot more lung capacity than you currently possess (or are willing to expend).

Your eyes continue to roam over your companion in the drivers seat. She sits upright with one hand on the wheel, impatiently fidgeting her thumb as she flits it over the dark pleather. You must let out quite the sigh because she lets out a humored rapid puff of air from her nose.

“What’re you looking at?” she poses cooly, maintaining her eye contact with the hotel door through the windshield.

“Anything but that damn door.” You can’t help but notice how her eyes flutter shut briefly, the subtle shake of her head as she laughs and rests her head in her hand, elbow of her left arm now propped up haphazardly against the drivers-side window.

“What to do with you…?” she trails off rhetorically. You dart your eyes back to the door for a split second before planting your hands on the middle console to lean over and kiss her on the cheek.

~~~

The first time you recall actually giving voice to any of this was your 4th time working together. Or maybe 5th. After so many it’s quite a drag to remember them all. But you remember the assignment, simple observation of a high profile socialite at an event they hosted.

Actually, the venue stuck out in your mind more than anything else. Lots of glass, crystal, and shiny decor far beyond anything you’d been accustomed to seeing. You’d dressed your best and so did Byulyi, standing near each other having what was supposed to look like a casual conversation on the job.

“Why do you think we always get assigned to these things together?” she asked with a lilt in her voice.

“Maybe ‘cause the higher-ups can’t deal with our unresolved tension?” you posed in a manner far too casual, cut short by your target having moved a little too close for comfort. You turned on your heel and walked swiftly in the opposite direction, suit jacket flaring out behind you in a flourish. An hor d'oeuvre sounded perfect right about now.

Byulyi realized why you moved, but remained frozen in place, stunned. “Wha— our what?” she hissed in a loud whisper as she started off after you.

You continued in your detailed observation once you stopped moving, laying out a mental map of the target as she moved around the room. Hostess duties. It would’ve been mesmerizing, her brilliant gown shimmering under the light cast from the chandelier— had you not been on assignment. But it made for a pleasant scene. You’d seen much worse.

“Tension? I’m not tense. If anything you make me tense,” Byulyi stressed quickly, jabbing a finger into the pointed shoulder of your suit jacket. You caught her drift without skipping a beat, staring straight ahead.

“Mm. But I think we know by now that you work better under pressure. So maybe the bosses are just looking out for you,” trailing off as you took a bite. “Also, I can tell you’re bluffing. So quit it,” swiping sauce with your knuckle from the corner of your smirking mouth. You met her panicked gaze with smug satisfaction and the slightest shake of your head. Any chance to poke fun at her helped these assignments feel marginally less boring.

She could berate you for this later, you both had a job to do. Although she didn’t understand how you devoted your energy to detailed observation while chewing that unceremoniously on whatever you were eating. She always got too antsy on assignment to eat, but would have subsequent lapses in judgement during high-stress situations, so you had to remind her to eat on duty regardless.

Of course, that didn’t stop Byulyi’s mind from wandering a little. She wondered if she was even allowed to catch feelings for someone who’s saved her ass more than once. Wouldn’t anyone have at least a tiny crush if their life was indebted to someone else? Encapsulated in totality by sheer admiration. She mostly put that aside for work, worried about the optics of being with a superior.

She was turning it over in her head for the tenth time when you cut in.

“Mm, I make you tense?” you questioned with your mouth half-full.

Alcohol? Byulyi thought to herself. Despite the many staff walking around with flutes of champagne on platters and an open bar, there was no way— she had been with you all night. She gave a subtle nod, wanting you to continue.

“But why?” you stressed more clearly, having finished whatever tiny bite of food you had plucked off the tray of a nearby staff.

Byulyi suddenly found it wildly difficult to meet your gaze. What was she supposed to do, admit it? You pivoted on your foot with confidence to face her, bending slightly at the knees to catch her downward gaze in yours. Stepping in closer, you pinched the lapel of her blazer, trailing a hand up the flap, stopping just around her heart. No need for spoken words to joke about her heartbeat as it pounded through her shirt against your knuckles.

“Scared?” you chuckled. “You really are tense, that’s for sure. We’ll have to work on that.”

“Mm… mhm,” Byulyi hummed affirmatively, words caught in her throat. To anyone else looking on, you may as well have been a couple sharing a moment in the ornate hall.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s just me, you know?”

She may as well have stopped breathing.

You found it endearing, elbows locked at her sides as to not envelop you in her embrace. Even having closed the distance in a breathless kiss, doing this, she managed to continually be so awkwardly uptight. Your fist involuntarily tightened against the lapel of her jacket, mentally patting yourself on the back when she gasped into your lips. You deepened the kiss automatically like a reflex, delicately bringing your fingers up to her cheek, feeling the heat build under her skin. All she did was take a hand to the curve of your waist before your mind began thinking about her hands being put to use in other ways. Never mind that she was a rookie on the job, but you could mentor her in more ways than one.

Chastising yourself for getting mildly worked up, you pulled away with whatever ounce of composure you had to spare. Byulyi’s face morphed from surprise to a dopey grin, smiling with her lips before they parted to show her teeth.

“What?” you deadpanned, playful sarcasm thick in your voice as you flattened out the creases from your shirt.

In one swift motion her fingers hooked around the back of your neck to bring her face back to yours. Finally, you thought. She learned something about the element of surprise. Although not necessarily in the context you expected. You made a mental note to rub that in later, something along the lines of how you’d been rubbing off on her. Except she stopped dead just before meeting your lips again.

Heat climbed up your throat in tandem with your heartbeat, a warm thumping overtaking your senses. The couple seconds of being face-to-face elongated into at least a couple minutes, mentally snapped back when she grinned again, mere centimeters from your face.

“Are you trying to kill me?” you murmured playfully. “I have a gun, you know.”

“Two can play at that game,” Byulyi countered, breath warm on your half-parted lips, sliding the other hand just above the holster on your waist.

“Mm, just because you have one doesn’t mean you know how to use it, newbie.”

“Guess I have a lot to learn. You’ll have to teach me sometime, won’t you?” she breathed, barely audible to anyone else, but deafening to you despite the blood pounding in your ears.

You gulped and wordlessly went back to observing the target, albeit not particularly closely from how flabbergasted she left you. The twinkling glasses of champagne being offered up by the waiters seemed particularly enticing after that ordeal, but alas. Work commands sobriety. Nothing else of note happened that night, just some close observation and an extravagant venue.

~~~

Anyway, it’s a welcome surprise when she kisses you back properly over the console. Her lips eventually attach themselves to the base of your neck, a strained complaint leaving your mouth, something about keeping her eyes on the target. Your tone isn’t particularly convincing. Your eyes flit back to the door you’re both supposed to be watching as Byulyi pulls skin between her teeth, the pleasant kind of pain that you know will leave a mark. You cradle her head, tangling a hand in her hair with an involuntary fist when she nips at your neck again.

“Ahh, how the turns have tabled,” she gloats, pulling back to her head on her palm, elbow resting on the middle console between you. “Remember back in the old days where I was scared of you?”

“Oh shut up, that’s not eve— fuck,” voice going breathy when she interrupts your response with a finger pressing in on your clit. Despite her insufferable cockiness after realizing her dumb little crush ventured into the mutual affection territory, it’s not a terrible way to kill time.

Your heels dig into the soles of your shoes as they subsequently slip against the floormat of the passenger seat, trying to push your hips up to meet her fingers. You’re trying your best not to whine or whimper too much, even though you could kill to hop over the console and have her fuck you in the drivers seat. The worst you can do is to come off as needy. But once again, you both have a task at hand, and unfortunately it’s not this.

“Now you might not wanna get too loud,” she warns, her purely overconfident smile ever-present in the tone of her voice.

“Don’t you— have a job– to do?” You manage to stutter out between pleasured breaths.

“Don’t you?” she laughs as a finger slips tantalizingly slow into your heat. Touché. Your eyes flutter shut momentarily as the back of your head digs into the headrest, hips rolling up readily into her hand. The wetness spreads up to your clit, aiding her movements.

As much as it hurts your pride to admit, there’s no denying that there’s something here. You’re suddenly flooded with thoughts of soft mornings, sultry whispers, and quiet moans enrobed in plushy bedsheets. Ugh, domesticity. If you really wanted that you wouldn’t have gotten into this line of work. Although, granted, you never expected to meet anyone quite like her on the job.

You’re getting lost in her touch now as she works you up more and more. It’s the worst when you can just hear her smirking from the little laugh that accompanies it. She lets up her pace and pressure ever so slightly, making you painfully aware of the mess you’ve created under your uniform. A groan and clasping your fingers around her wrist trapped between your body and the waistband serves as desperation enough, abandoning any sense of keeping your cool.

With this non-verbal plea you’re careening towards the edge again in no time— when she immediately yanks her hand out of your pants. She interrupts your barely formed complaint about edging with an punctuated “Oh shit.” Your eyes fly open to see that the motel room door is finally opening. You hold back from being dismayed at the absolutely terrible timing. Byul sucking on her fingers to clean them right before turning the key in the ignition makes your head spin, but you’re shaken out of it upon the rumble of the engine.

You sit up properly in the passenger seat, glaring hard at the woman who just ruined your fun as she slips into an awaiting car. Byul puts the car in gear to tail close behind as the other car pulls out of the lot.

#mamamoo imagines #mamamoo smut #moonbyul smut #moon byulyi #mamamoo moonbyul #requested #moonbyul imagines #girl group smut #mamamoo scenarios #kpop smut #kpop imagines #sigh we're back to afab reader land #bc the tumblr gods did not like my gender studies-aligned terminology

128 notes · View notes

whats-rambled-rambled · 3 years ago

Text

Posterity - part 2

Neil x gn!Reader

Chapter 2: Fireworks

(see chapter 1)

summary: New Year’s Eve. You promised your friend you would actually do some socializing, for a change. Let’s see how it goes.

warnings: some swearing, alcohol consumption

author’s note: even though this part of the story has been brewing in my mind for a good while, these two still found a way to surprise me.

3,2k words

The song for this chapter is Hazlett - Fireworks

I’m so grateful there’s so many of you still interested in stories about him.

And, as always, all feedback is greatly appreciated. A penny for your thoughts?

----

“Wheeler. 8-1-9. Good evening, Operator.”

“Welcome, Agent. How may I assist you today?”

“I need a courier, but the cargo is too *sensitive* to use FedEx and we’re not done here yet.”

“Understood. How big is the parcel?”

“An old-fashioned suitcase? On the heavier side.”

“Copy. Please hold – …someone should be approaching your location any minute now. Anything else I can help you with?”

“I think I see them. Thanks, Operator.”

“Over and out.

—

The end of the year was slower. Most of the operatives were taking some family time, but that didn’t necessarily mean any fewer duties in the office. The teams planned their shifts around the holidays ahead, so everyone got time off when they needed it. You didn’t have any important personal obligations, although not being stuck behind the desk at midnight on New Year’s Eve was a nice perspective, especially since it looked like it was going to be a slow shift anyway.

And for the first time in years, you actually had something planned for the evening.

Might be because you’d promised Alex you would actually do some socializing.

Or because you had no other excuses as they’d accidentally told on you to your mutual friend, Sarah, who was hosting the party.

The effect was still the same - you were going out. It also meant out of your comfort zone, and that included at least a light knot in your stomach, but you kept reminding yourself it wasn’t like you wouldn’t know anyone there. You knew the hostess – …and yeah, that was pretty much it.

So a house full of strangers. Loud and questionable music, probably. Obligatory mingling, most definitely.

Maybe he was right and you were not as high-functioning as you’d like to think.

But first, before having second thoughts could make you cancel plans, you had to finish your work.

The doors clicked and you glanced up, only to see The Protagonist entering the office.

Not a rare sight, as the boss made an effort to personally check on you all from time to time. Always with a hearty smile plastered on his handsome face, and this day was no different.

“How’s my favorite team doing?”

“Favorite?” You smirked. “I bet you say that to all of them, boss.”

He grinned in response. “Doesn’t make it any less true.” You rolled your chair back slightly, and he gave you a small nod, perching on the edge of your desk as usual. “You a big fan of Elvis, Operator?”

Of course, he noticed.

“Not really,” you chuckled, but as he eyed you curiously, you felt that going into details was too much of a risk. Not that relations between office staff and agents were something frowned upon, or bringing personal items to the workspace was against regulations. Still. You simply shrugged. “Long story.”

“I bet it is,” pondered The Protagonist and arched a brow.

Alex could barely contain a knowing beam, so they tried to mask it with a cough and change of topic. “What’s new? Any special events incoming? Spill the tea, boss, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

He was not one to share anything of significance, and you knew the reason. The whole personnel did. Knowledge divided, and everything that came with the statement.

That was why you kept streaming cases back to other teams, after all - as a precaution.

“I just wanted to wish you all a happy New Year. And to tell you how much I appreciate you all.”

“Enough to give us a raise?” cut in Kraig.

He could be the most reserved out of you three, but he was always the one to spot and seize an opportunity.

The boss hummed, amused, then rapped his fingers against your desk and grinned smugly.

“How does 5% sound to you?”

“Make it 7 and we gotta keep that fav title just to ourselves,” said Alex, matching his expression.

“Deal.” The Protagonist reached out his hand and your friend shook it. Only then, he added, “Could have easily pushed for 10, you know.”

“Shit.”

He laughed, but as he slid off your desk, you caught a brief shadow clouding his features. Before you could bite your tongue, you asked quietly, “Everything okay, boss?”

Whatever was bothering him, got quickly hidden under a schooled expression and a trademark smile.

“Of course. Look at the time. Off you go, I bet you have better places to be.”

—

The house was crammed with people, all right. Loud music? Check, even if slightly less questionable than you’d expected.

Or that might have been that second drink in your hand talking.

The lights in the rooms were dimmed, which made it a little easier to navigate through people without getting into too many random conversations. Finally, you noticed a pretty empty area in the library; it looked like a promising spot to get a breather, finish your drink, maybe linger for a while longer and then take French leave.

You leaned against a wall with a quiet sigh. To hell with Alex, you’d socialized enough - and you could still make it back in time to watch fireworks from your apartment.

Laughter erupted somewhere nearby and your eyes landed on a small group of men on the other side of the room, lost in a jovial conversation you couldn’t quite hear. Among the overjoyed crew, however, there seemed to be a person stuck in a conundrum of politeness, captured in an unfortunate spot from where it was hard to make an exit - especially since one of the men standing the closest was quite grabby.

And you knew that unlucky bastard.

Technically, of course, because you’d never met in person before. You had the operatives’ faces and voices memorized, after all, and this one was hard to confuse with anyone else.

The photo in the files didn’t do his disheveled blonde mane justice, though.

And he was right there, almost empty glass in his hand, trying hard to focus on the conversation that was clearly boring him beyond comprehension.

Was it a conscious choice on your side? Or merely an instinct kicking in? You were about to ask yourself that many times later, but for now, you downed your drink and made your way to the noisy group.

“Neil, darling! Fancy meeting you here!” you gushed, squeezing yourself past the obnoxious-looking guy.

Neil gaped at you, perplexed.

“Hello,” he said with a cautious smile, a confused frown only deepened when you closed the gap between you to grant him a social kiss.

Perfectly hidden from the prying glances of his acquaintances, you went for your shot. “Do you need assistance?” you whispered as you brushed your cheek against his, hoping he would catch on fast enough.

Oh, he did.

“Jesus,” he breathed, and as you went for the other cheek, you saw how wide his eyes became for a second. “Get me out, please.”

“Right on.” You put on the most gracious smile, linked your elbow with Neil’s, and turned to the rest of the men. “Excuse us, gentlemen, the lady of the house needs this one in the kitchen, stat.”

Nothing too improbable, and you hadn’t seen Sarah for a while. The guys didn’t seem to mind, besides - no one sane would cross the hostess, even on a good day, and you were able to get out of their sight without too much of a bother.

You wanted to slip out of the hold as soon as the coast got clear, but Neil persistently kept you close as you marched towards the kitchen arm-in-arm.

The blue eyes swept through you up and down, as he was now the one to try to get the pieces together.

“How…?” he asked, and a sly smirk dangled in the corner of your lips.

“Habit.” You gestured vaguely, keeping your voice low and confidential. “I see an agent in distress, I come to help. Looked like you were about to drop dead from boredom out there.”

“Close call, yeah.”

“What was that conversation about?”

Neil rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation.

“Sports.”

“Oh no, glad I could get you out in time, then,” you snorted and met his gaze, now lit with playful sparks.

“Me too.” He smiled and opened the kitchen door. As soon as you got inside, he stopped and put his hands on your arms, taking you in again. He dropped his head, scoffed, looked back at you, and squeezed your arms lightly, only then letting you go. “Sorry, I don’t mean to stare, but it’s so nice to finally put a face to the voice.”

“Ah, I already knew your face.” You grinned at his quirked eyebrow. “Might have seen your files, once or twice.”

“Blimey.” He beamed widely. “Shall we make it official?” he asked and reached out his hand. “Neil.”

You shook it and introduced yourself, earning a court nod in return.

There was no reason not to give him your name. It was a pleasantry, a custom, and you were both on neutral ground, after hours. Nothing inappropriate.

There was also that feeling you couldn’t quite describe. The apprehension you associated with newly met people was missing, instead, it felt like you’d actually known each other for years. Like his presence brought a certain comfort, even

But again, you were two drinks in, and about to fix yourself another one.

You looked around the neat, shabby chic kitchen, oddly empty of people - seeing as kitchens were usually one of the most favorite places to hang around at home parties. It was a rather pleasant breather to your overstimulated brain, even if you could still hear the music blasting in the adjacent room. Doubly so, now that you spotted a makeshift cocktail station prepared on the kitchen island.

“How about a refill?” You asked, pointing at the glass in Neil’s hand, as you walked towards the counter. “Vodka tonic?”

He squinted suspiciously. “Don’t tell me that my drink of choice was also included in the files.”

“Imagine that.” Laughing, you shook your head. “No, I saw you drinking something transparent, and judging by the fine selection of ingredients here, and assuming it wasn’t water–”

“You guessed it, all right.” Neil sent you an amused grin and watched as you prepared drinks for you both. “You like more color to your beverages, I see.”

“Can’t go wrong with something fruity,” you said, handing him his glass and topping a splash of vodka in yours with orange juice. “At least as long as it’s on the sour side, that is. Cheers!”

The glasses clinked and you perched on the bar stools together. “So how did you end up here?”

“I’ve known Steve since uni. He always invites me, but I’m rarely in town. I didn't have any plans, and it seemed better than staying in another sad hotel room.” Neil paused and took a sip of his drink, partially to hide a hint of a bitter grimace. But as he rolled his shoulders and glanced back at you, a light smile played on his lips again. “Thought I might give it a shot. You?”

“I know Steve’s other half. And same - she keeps inviting me, and apparently, there's a finite amount of excuses you can use before someone takes offense.” You made a face and scoffed softly into your glass.

Humorous sparks lit up his eyes. “Not a big fan of socializing?”

“Depends on the crowd,” you admitted, and he nodded without an ounce of judgment. This evening had proven your point to him, after all.

The song in the background changed. Neil perked in his seat, and when the realization dawned on you, your mouth fell open in astonishment.

“This is not happening.”

Neil raised his hands and choked out through laughter, “I had nothing to do with this, I swear.”

You chewed on your lip, trying to stifle a hysterical giggle, then squeezed your eyes shut. What are the chances…?

“Wanna dance?”

A warning siren blazing in your mind was loud enough to get through the music, and you stopped swaying your foot to the rhythm instantly.

“I don’t dance–” you began, but suddenly the kitchen doors flew open and the familiar buoyant group of men rolled into the kitchen, irreversibly tainting the peace of the space with their obnoxious noisiness. Neil’s face dropped at the sight, and you ground your teeth as you bit back the rest of the sentence. You took his hand and finished the rest of your drink in one swig. “Okay, come on.” Then you led him to the other room, and he held onto your hand until you found a little bit of space in the crowded dance floor area.

//Baby, close your eyes and listen to the music

Drifting through a summer breeze

It's a groovy night and I can show you how to use it

Come along with me and put your mind at ease//

Maybe that was the solution, you thought as you swallowed hard through rising nervousness. The music blasted through the speakers loud enough to tune out the internal litany of curses, and you let it wash over you.

And you let it go.

Luckily, Neil’s carefree vibe was so effortless to match, because he didn’t take himself too seriously on the dance floor as well. Soon enough, you both sang along to the lyrics, making silly faces while you danced off each other as if you played to the longest inner joke The Universe had granted you.

The utter joy that resonated between you. Expanding your chest, bringing the biggest smile to your face. Making everything easy. That was why one song turned into two, three, and then you stopped counting, so even when the choice of tunes took turn into trashy classics, you had so much unapologetic fun that you didn’t want it to stop.

None of you did.

Finally, DJ switched tempo, and you fell into each other’s arms, giggling uncontrollably while you tried to catch your breaths.

“So, Elvis,” you said, attempting to school your features enough to wipe the idiotic grin off your face.

Neil took your hand in his, the other one placed on your waist. “Could be worse.”

“You think?” you snickered, then followed him instinctively as you gently swayed to the music together.

“Well, he has some of the most beautiful love songs in the world.”

When you searched his eyes, you found something sincere shining through the playfulness. It caught you off-guard and a new kind of warmth pooled inside you, one that didn’t have much to do with dancing the last half an hour away.

“Careful, or they’re gonna revoke your British passport.”

He scrunched his nose and shrugged dismissively.

“Well, you’d get me a new one, right?”

“Right.” And although you laughed - because how could you not, so close to that contagious smile of his - the familiar knot tightened in your stomach.

The word bounced around inside your head, making you painfully aware of the situation.

Right, right, right, right, right.

Only that it wasn’t.

Even if it felt very much so up to this moment.

Neil’s voice snapped your attention back to him. “It’s almost midnight,” he said. “That balcony should make for a nice spot if you want to watch fireworks.” With the way studied your expression, you were almost sure he noticed your sudden mood swing.

“Sure, let’s go.” You forced a little smile. “Let me just grab my coat.”

The air was crisp, sobering.

With the anticipation palpable all around you, it was hard not to think about what another year was about to bring. You weren’t one to let anxiety roam free, you couldn’t be efficient at your work if you were. Instead of worrying, it was better to act, but maybe it was the alcohol mixed with the heaviness you felt after that last bit of conversation, perhaps prompted even earlier by the boss visiting your office. All combined together rang in a deep sigh, almost forcefully pushed through your tightened chest.

Neil shot you a curious glance. “Feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders?”

“Don’t you, sometimes?” you asked, sending him one back. “With all the saving it requires?”

He looked at the city skyline, pondering over your question for a while.

“Everyone has a responsibility towards a slice of reality they live in.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “Ours just happens to be a little bigger.”

“A whole goddamn cake,” you snorted. “That inverted entropy really makes the flavor pop though, huh?”

He met your eyes, his own lit up with amusement, and hummed, “It sure does.”

Someone next to you started the countdown, and when it got to zero and the world around erupted in cheers and blasting lights, you found yourself in Neil’s arms, and it was all that mattered at that moment.

It was ‘good luck next year’ and so much more. It was ‘I see you, and you are not alone'. The tight embrace of ‘so good to be next to someone who gets it’. And warmth. Immense comfort. Safety. Two souls touching and recognizing each other in a mad world, sharing a gleam of peace among the people unaware of the stakes.

When you pulled back, you exchanged a soft smile and turned to watch the fireworks, arms pressed together as if to prolong the contact.

The rest of the party went by fast. You found a relatively quiet place, sat down with drinks, and talked about everything and nothing in particular, simply enjoying each other’s company. As much as you did your best to stay present and not let anything break the spell too soon, it was bound to happen at some point.

And it did, just as you stepped outside the building and were about to call it a night.

“Do you want to grab a coffee?” asked Neil as he walked you to an Uber. “Not now, obviously, but-”

The heart sank in your chest as you cut in, “Listen, I-” There was only one way to say this, even if it went against any reason after a night like that. And he wasn’t making it any easier, looking at you with brows knitted together in gentle concern. “Back in the kitchen, what I’ve been meaning to say was that I don’t dance...with my agents. I’m so sorry if I lead you on tonight.” You held his gaze with bated breath, scanning for any switch in the behavior.

“Not at all.” There wasn’t any. Instead, Neil gave you a reassuring smile, his eyes never losing light shining bright inside them. “Thanks for making this night fun. And for saving me.”

“Of course. It was nice to meet you, Agent,” you said and reached out your hand.

He drew a bottom lip between his teeth and chuckled. “You too, Operator. Have a good night.” As he shook your hand, his thumb stroked it ever so slightly. “Happy New Year.”

Alone in your own bed, you could still feel that soft brush against your skin. His light stubble on your cheek. The heat of his body. His scent, fresh and warm in its citrus and woody undertones. The arms wrapped around you.

Those memories could possibly haunt you, only deepening that hollow pit inside of you.

But for now, you didn’t care, because that night you were falling asleep with a smile on your face.

Somehow feeling less alone in the world.

---------

And that was enough.

(next chapter->)

taglist: @hollandorks @neilsgirl91 @thecraziestcrayon

#neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet x you #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfiction #tenet fanfiction #robert pattinson #posterity

85 notes · View notes