#FINALLY done with college finals so I can

[vibelladonna]

𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈'𝓈 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝜗𝜚 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒!

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

This Christmas special was inspired by Valentine's Special [2nd Love Interest] by @fantasia-kitt (the creator!)

For this Christmas, I decided to write this fanfic while running errands with family for the holidays, so please bear with me if there are any mistakes. 

I was thinking about writing something for New Year’s Eve, like a party fic, but I feel like this Christmas special is enough for now while I take a short break and catch up on some upcoming projects (three of them with deep plotlines!).  Also, this ties in with Tkatb’s 1st anniversary, which was yesterday, the 23rd! I’m super proud of how far this little game has come.

And yes, I saw the update on the plans and progress. It looks like I might start working on some of my other favorite fandoms since the game will be on hold until the major update! I’ll still be keeping an eye on the progress as a Soulmate on Patreon, and you can always ask for a fanfic if you’d like! I’ll be responding to the messages in my ask box soon!

Anyway, happy reading! Wishing you all a wonderful holiday season!

The crisp, cool December air wrapped around you like a familiar embrace, the kind that reminded you of winter's quiet power. You stepped out of the lecture hall, your final class a fading echo behind you. 

The world, for a moment, felt as if it had been held in stasis: college was finally behind you, and relief surged through your veins like a slow, satisfying exhale.

You almost burst out laughing at the thought. Thank God that's fucking over. It totally drained you, and ate away at your insides until you felt there was nothing left but pure exhaustion. But then, as it all started to sink in, this weird emptiness crept up, like that quiet moment right before a storm hit.

The goodbyes, those last waves, and parting words were still stuck in your chest, kinda just out of reach, weighing on you like you were still tied to something that wasn’t done.  

Then your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked down at the screen and spotted Brittney’s name.

— Brittney: REMINDER! Gift exchange on Christmas Eve, my place at 7! Don’t be late, or you’ll owe me extra cookies.

You scoffed and let out a soft chuckle. Brittney had this incredible thing for making demands with a level of authority that was, somehow, oddly charming. As much as you rolled your eyes at her, you couldn’t deny that her quirks always brought a smile to your face. Still, as your gaze flicked back to the message, a groan bubbled up in your chest. You scrolled back through her earlier messages to confirm what you already knew. 

"Great," you muttered under your breath. Brittney had really gone all out this year, assigning everyone a specific person to shop for, and, of course, you ended up with Crowe. 

You exhaled, frustration bubbling up. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him—he was one of your closest friends—but trying to find a gift for someone who had everything felt like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. You could almost hear his voice in your head, teasing, cutting through whatever you picked out: “Really? This is what you think of me?” Of course, he’d never say anything like that—but what if he didn’t like it? What if he hated whatever you got him? The thought twisted uncomfortably in your chest.

You shook your head and continued walking toward the bus stop, the weight of the decision hanging over you. Simple wouldn’t cut it, but anything too over the top would make him throw a sarcastic comment at it. You had to find something that hit that sweet spot—the kind of gift that felt thoughtful without making him retreat into one of his jokes.

As if your thoughts weren’t already tangled enough, your phone buzzed again. You hesitated, almost instinctively glancing down. 

— Hyugo: Hey, what are you doing Christmas Eve? Sol and I are planning to check out the lights walk at the park. You should come!

A smile tugged at your lips. Typical Hyugo—direct, unfiltered, full of energy. His message was as breezy as his personality. And then there was Sol’s name, and that grin only deepened. The two of them together were a comedy show on legs—Sol’s quiet balance countering Hyugo’s endless whirlwind of ideas and antics. 

You stood still, fingers hovering over the screen. Christmas Eve. 

Oh no… For a moment, the thought of walking through the park with them, bathed in twinkling lights, was tempting. It would be the perfect kind of distraction, a night filled with laughter, just as you’d imagine. You pictured Hyugo pulling you and Sol into whatever wild antics he’d planned, Sol trying (and failing) to keep everything in check with his usual, resigned eye rolls.

But then, as your thumb hovered over the screen, your thoughts drifted back to Crowe. 

Last week, in the group chat, Crowe had mentioned something cryptic about "making big plans" for the holiday. He’d shrugged it off when Brittney pressed for details, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he had something in mind that involved the whole group. You felt the weight of his words in your mind. Would it be weird to bail on him now? 

You sighed, tucking your phone into your pocket as the bus stop loomed closer. 

"Why is it never simple with these friend groups?" you muttered under your breath.

Now, you had two conflicting decisions on your hands: find the perfect gift for Crowe, and decide whether you were spending Christmas Eve with him and his friends or tagging along with Hyugo and Sol on their sparkling adventure.

Your mind raced with the uncertainty, and the thought of making the "right" choice felt more elusive than ever.

The mall was buzzing with the kind of chaotic energy only the holiday season could bring—families weaving in and out of stores, the sound of Christmas music drifting from every corner, and glittering displays of tinsel and fairy lights winking at you from every window.

You hadn’t stepped foot in a mall in ages—mostly sticking to the convenience of online shopping and the hunts of thrift stores—but here you were, begrudgingly dragging Brittney along in your quest for the perfect gift for Crowe. 

“I still don’t get why you’re this stressed about it,” Brittney said, effortlessly balancing a caramel macchiato in one hand while gesturing with the other as she walked beside you. “It’s Jericho. He’ll probably be smiling no matter what you give him. Honestly, wrap up a rock, and he’ll love it anyway.”

You let out a long, drawn-out groan, clutching your coat tighter as you passed yet another store that screamed not Crowe enough. “That’s exactly why it’s stressful! If I give him something random, he’ll think I didn’t put any thought into it. And if it’s too thoughtful—well, you know how he gets.”

Brittney raised an eyebrow, her heels clicking against the tile floor like the beat of a very judgmental drum. “You’re overthinking it, as usual. But fine, we’ll find him something perfect.” She paused dramatically, then grinned like the cat who’d just caught the canary. “Right after we fix this.”

She motioned toward you like you were a mannequin in need of serious intervention. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked, narrowing your eyes, already dreading whatever plan she was about to hatch.

“Oh, come on,” she said, practically yanking your arm as she steered you toward a clothing store. “You cannot show up to my place tomorrow night wearing your same old flare jeans-and-sweater combo in dull colors. It’s festive! It’s Christmas! You need to bring your A-game.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a small get-together,” you protested, resisting her tug.

“It is. Small but fabulous. Which is why I, as your friend, am going to make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed.” She pulled a sequined dress from a nearby rack with the kind of flourish reserved for Broadway stars. “What do we think? Too much?”

You stared at the dress in horror. It was so sparkly it could probably be seen from space. You shot her a flat look. “If I wear that, Crowe will definitely never let me live it down.”

“Fine, fine,” Brittney said, laughing and tossing the dress back on the rack with the grace of a fashionista throwing a tantrum. “But you’ve got to admit, you’d turn heads.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as she tossed another, more reasonable outfit your way.

After what felt like an eternity—and after Brittney vetoed every “boring” outfit you tried to pick—finally, you emerged from the dressing room with a pretty outfit, you both agreed with. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Brittney said, clapping her hands in approval. “Chic, confident, and just a little bit mysterious. You’re welcome.”

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, tilting your head. “I guess it’s not bad.”

“Not bad?” she repeated, feigning offense. “Please, you look amazing. Crowe is going to have his jaw on the floor.”

You shot her a look, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck. “Why are you bringing him into this?”

Brittney smirked knowingly. “Oh, please. Like you don’t know.” 

You rolled your eyes, but her grin was infectious, and you couldn’t suppress the smallest of smiles.

After leaving the clothing store—with Brittney carrying your new outfit like it was her triumph—you wandered into a cozy little shop filled with knick-knacks and handcrafted items. It had that eclectic, artsy vibe that immediately made you think of Crowe.  

Brittney was busy examining a shelf of scented candles when she asked casually, “So, do you ever think about dating?” You froze, nearly dropping the ceramic figurine you were holding. “Excuse me? Where did that come from?”  

“I mean, it’s the holidays,” she said, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Romance is in the air. And you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with a certain pair of guys.”  

Your stomach flipped. “Brittney...”  

“Come on,” she pressed, leaning against the shelf with a teasing grin. “It’s Jericho, isn’t it? Or wait—maybe that dude with the green streaks in his hair?” She paused, thinking, “What’s his name again…?” She asked. You rolled your eyes, “Sol.” 

“Right, the quiet one that likes to draw…” She mentioned, “So? The prince or the artist?”  

You hesitated, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Sol, with his warm, easy-going nature, always made you feel like you could be yourself. But Crowe... Crowe had a way of drawing you in, his sharp wit and creativity sparking something you couldn’t quite name.  

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Brittney’s expression softened, her teasing giving way to genuine curiosity. “Hey, no pressure. I just think... whoever you pick, they’re lucky to have you.”  

As you walked through the mall, still thinking about her words, you stumbled upon something that made you stop in your tracks.  

It was a gorgeous, handcrafted music box, intricately carved with a winter scene. You’d seen it before on display, months ago, and fallen in love with it. But the price tag had always kept it just out of reach. You’d told yourself it wasn’t practical—your money had to go toward rent, groceries, and textbooks, not something so frivolous.  

Yet here it was, glimmering in the soft light as if waiting for you.  

“What’s that?” Brittney asked, peeking over your shoulder.  

You swallowed hard. “It’s... something I’ve wanted for a while. But it’s too expensive.”  

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at you, then back at the music box. “Maybe it’s time to treat yourself for once. It’s Christmas, after all.”  

You shook your head, stepping away reluctantly. “I can’t. I need to stick to my budget.”  

Brittney frowned but didn’t push. Instead, she linked her arm with yours and said, “All right, let’s go. We’ve still got to find gifts.”  

By the time you left the mall, you were exhausted but triumphant. You’d found the perfect gifts—Brittney had, of course, insisted on adding a bow to each package.  

With the gifts secured, you headed home, your thoughts kept drifting back to the music box—and to the question, you couldn’t quite answer. Crowe or Sol?  

Standing in front of your mirror, you smoothed the soft fabric of the outfit Brittney had picked out for you—a cozy yet stylish off-shoulder sweater black sweater dress paired with maroon tights, and a matching bow that sits on your nightstand.

It fit perfectly, hitting all the curves, and you had to admit, Brittney had an annoyingly good eye. When she handed you the bag earlier, she had waved away your protests with a grin.  

“Think of it as a gift,” she’d said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I had no clue what to get you anyway, so this counts. You’re welcome.”  

You laughed at the memory as you reached for the maroon bow. It was a small, thoughtful gesture from her, but it carried more weight than she probably realized. Brittney always had a way of showing her care through actions, even if she hid it behind sarcasm.  

Your gaze shifted to your phone on the dresser, the screen still lit up with Hyugo’s text. You tapped your nails on the dresser, reading the message again and again. The idea of strolling under the glowing canopy of Christmas lights was tempting. Hyugo’s steady, dependable presence had always been a source of comfort, and Sol...  

Your chest tightened slightly at the thought of Sol. He wasn’t the loudest or the most expressive, but he had a quiet way of showing he cared. Whether it was walking on the side of the road closest to traffic or remembering your favorite snacks when you studied late, Sol went out of his way to protect you in the subtlest ways.  

But then there was Crowe.  

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, sighing softly as you adjusted the collar of your sweater dress. Crowe was the opposite of Sol in many ways—charismatic, quick-witted, and always so present. He had a way of being there when you needed him most, whether it was cracking a joke to pull you out of a bad mood or reminding you to take care of yourself when you pushed too hard. Crowe didn’t just care about you; he saw you.  

Your brush stilled in your hand as your thoughts tangled. Sol, with his quiet strength and unspoken devotion, versus Crowe, whose vibrant energy and unwavering support had become a constant in your life. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt torn like this, but tonight, with everything hanging in the air, the question loomed larger than ever.  

You placed the brush down and reached for your phone. Your thumb hovered over the screen, Hyugo’s text still unanswered.  

The truth was, both options held their kind of magic. You could picture yourself with Sol and Hyugo, laughing as Sol attempted to grab a runaway balloon from a vendor at the Christmas lights. But you could also imagine spending the night with Crowe and the rest of the group, his familiar presence anchoring you as the chaos of the party swirled around you, perhaps playing games and catching up. 

Would Crowe be disappointed if you didn’t go?  

You bit your lip, closing your eyes for a moment as you let out a long breath. There wasn’t a perfect answer, and no amount of overthinking would make the choice any easier. Finally, you set the phone down with a soft thud and looked back at your reflection.  

“Just go with your gut,” you murmured to yourself.  

As you adjusted your clothes in the minor one last time, you headed to your living room. You put on your leather boots, then grabbed your coat, and you made your way toward the door. No matter what decision you made tonight, you knew one thing for certain: the holidays weren’t about the lights, the gifts, or even the plans—they were about the people who mattered most to you.  

And whether that person was Crowe or Sol... maybe the night would help you figure that out.  

If you picked Crowe!

You stood in front of your front door, staring at your phone screen as your thumb hovered over the keyboard. Hyugo’s invitation sat open on your messaging app, the words staring back at you like a challenge.  

Spending Christmas Eve with him and Sol sounded wonderful. The idea of walking under glowing lights, sharing laughter and stories, and basking in the quiet warmth of their presence was so tempting. You could already picture Sol’s quiet, steady energy and Hyugo’s easygoing humor, balancing each other out like always.  

But then there was Brittney’s party. She had been planning it for weeks, texting in all caps about the details and how “NO ONE was allowed to skip out unless they wanted to face my WRATH.” And Crowe… well, Crowe had been unusually involved in the group chat about the exchange. You could sense his subtle excitement, even though he’d never admit it outright.  

Your heartfelt caught between two equally important choices. One evening with Hyugo and Sol would mean stepping away from the rest of your friends, missing out on the little traditions that had brought you all closer. And yet, declining Hyugo’s invitation felt like a lost chance to make a special memory with him and Sol.  

Biting your lip, you finally typed out a reply, your fingers moving hesitantly:  

— You: I’d love to, but my friends already planned something. Maybe next time?  

You stared at the message for another moment before pressing send, a pang of guilt twisting in your chest.  

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed with Hyugo’s response:  

— Hyugo: Got it. Have fun!  

You smiled softly at the screen, some of the tension in your chest easing. Hyugo was always so understanding—steady and reliable, no matter the situation. But before you could set your phone down, it buzzed again.  

The name flashing on the screen made your stomach flip.  

Sol.  

You hesitated for a beat before answering. “Hey,” you said, keeping your tone light despite the sudden tightness in your throat.  

“Hey,” he replied, his voice calm but noticeably quieter than usual. “I just wanted to check... So, you’re not coming tonight?”  

Your chest tightened further at the faint thread of disappointment in his tone. “I’m really sorry, Sol,” you said, sighing softly. “I already have plans with others friends. I don’t want to bail on them.”  

There was a pause, long enough for your heart to sink. When Sol spoke again, his words were careful, and understanding, but there was no hiding the sadness that laced his tone. “It’s okay. I get it. Maybe we can hang out another time.”  

The lump in your throat grew heavier. “We definitely will,” you promised quickly, wishing you could say something to lighten the weight you could feel in his words.  

In the background, you heard Hyugo’s voice. “Is that them? Gimme the phone.”  

There was a rustling sound before Hyugo’s familiar warmth came through the line. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said with an easy chuckle. “We’ll survive without you. But next time, no excuses, okay?”  

The lightheartedness in his tone made your shoulders relax slightly. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, relieved by his usual charm. “Thanks, Hyugo. Have fun tonight, okay?”  

“You too!” he teased before adding, “And try not to let your friends drag you into too much chaos. See you soon.”  

The line clicked, leaving you standing in the quiet entryway of your apartment. You lowered the phone slowly, staring at it for a moment longer as an ache settled in your chest. Sol’s voice lingered in your mind, soft and careful, and you couldn’t help but wish things could have been different.  

But tonight, you reminded yourself, was about being with the others, about keeping the traditions you’d built with them alive. With a deep breath, you slipped your phone into your pocket and grabbed your coat, stepping into the night air with a mixture of anticipation and bittersweet longing swirling in your heart.  

The evening of the party arrived, and as you approached Brittney’s house, the warmth and energy of the gathering spilled out onto the deck porch. Golden light glowed from the windows, the cheerful hum of music and laughter drifting into the chilly December air. You paused for a moment at the door, pulling your coat tighter around yourself as you gathered your thoughts.  

With a steadying breath, you knocked. A moment later, the door swung open, and there was Brittney, her face lighting up with her signature, effervescent grin.  

“Finally! I thought you’d never get here,” she said, already reaching to help you with your coat.  

“Sorry, I was—”  

“Fashionably late,” she interrupted, her eyes scanning your outfit. A satisfied hum escaped her lips as she appraised you. “Now this is what I’m talking about. You’re stunning.”  

You laughed softly, slipping out of your coat to reveal the gorgeous outfit Brittney had insisted on picking for you—a soft black off the shoulder dressed, paired with maroon tights with an matching bow that made you feel both elegant and confident. She handed you a pair of house shoes, the ones you knew she kept around for occasions like this.  

“I feel like I’m overdressed,” you said lightly, but Brittney shook her head, waving a dismissive hand.  

“Overdressed? Please. It’s Christmas. You’re perfect.”  

Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the cheerful din behind her.  

“Hey, you made it.”  

Your gaze shifted, and there stood Crowe. For a moment, you simply stared, taking him in. He wore an azure button-up shirt, paired with a black vest that complemented his rich brown skin, the deep hue drawing out the warm tones of his deep blue eyes. A sapphire brooch glinted at the center of a meticulously tied black bow around his collar, and his long hair was pulled into a low ponytail, tied back with a matching azure ribbon.  

In his hands, he held a small bouquet of blue irises.  

Your breath caught, and as he stepped closer, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his outfit . “Wow,” you murmured. “You look... princely.”  

Crowe raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk faltering as a flicker of warmth crossed his expression. “And you look...” He paused, his gaze lingering on you before softening. “Really beautiful.”  

“Only tonight?” you teased, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head.  

His eyes widened, and he stumbled over his words, flustered in a way you didn’t see often. “No, I mean—you look beautiful every day, but tonight you just—” He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck as a sheepish laugh escaped him.  

You both burst into laughter, the tension easing in an instant. Brittney rolled her eyes dramatically, patting Crowe’s shoulder as she passed. “Well, my work here is done,” she said, her tone dripping with mock exasperation. “Don’t mess this up, princeling.”  

As Brittney disappeared back to the living room, leaving you and Crowe in the hallway. He turned his attention back to you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he said simply.  

You took the flowers carefully, the soft petals brushing your fingertips. Your eyes widened slightly as you studied the blooms. “Blue irises,” you said, your voice thoughtful. “They’re beautiful.”  

He tilted his head, his smirk returning. “I thought you’d like them. They’re supposed to mean hope and trust—or something like that.”  

“And wisdom,” you added, looking up at him with a smile. “The iris has been associated with wisdom and truth because of the Greek goddess Iris, who was a messenger for Zeus and Hera. And nobility, too—it’s been connected to royalty throughout history.”  

Crowe’s brow lifted, clearly impressed. “Well, aren’t you just a walking encyclopedia?”  

You grinned. “Maybe. But you picked well. Thank you.”  

The warmth in his gaze deepened, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the party faded away.  

“You’re welcome,” he said softly.  

Soon the room was buzzing with anticipation as the gift exchange began. Brittney, playing hostess to perfection, had everyone seated in a loose circle, with the mountain of brightly wrapped presents taking center stage. You were perched on the edge of a couch, trying to calm the slight flutter in your chest as the turn order worked its way closer to Crowe.  

When his name was finally called, he shot to his feet with his usual flair, bowing dramatically as the room cheered. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, waving his hand like a performer accepting applause. “But this isn’t about me—it’s about you all witnessing the unveiling of my superior gift-giving skills.”  

Brittney rolled her eyes. “Just get on with it, princeling.”  

Crowe smirked at her before his gaze flicked to you. A mischievous glint lit his deep blue eyes as he strode toward you, a carefully curated basket in his hands. He stopped in front of you, his grin softening into something a little more sincere.  

“This one’s for you,” he said, holding the basket out with a slight flourish.  

You blinked, surprised as you took the basket from him. “For me?”  

He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “Well, yeah. You’re hard to shop for, so don’t judge me too harshly, okay?”  

You set the basket on your lap and began pulling back the tissue paper, and your eyes widened as you took in the contents. Inside were all your favorite things—snacks you couldn’t resist, small trinkets in your favorite color, and even a notebook that perfectly matched your aesthetic.  

“Crowe...” you murmured, already feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. But as you moved the tissue paper aside further, your gaze landed on something at the center that made your breath hitch—a beautifully crafted music box.  

“You...” You looked up at him, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Crowe shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of nervousness. “I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re always saying you have everything you need, and every time I offer to get you something, you turn me down like I’m trying to buy your soul or something.”  

A ripple of laughter spread through the room, and you couldn’t help but smile. “So, I figured I’d just... cover all my bases. You know, a little bit of everything. And, uh... I remembered how much you like little tunes and stuff, so...” He motioned awkwardly to the music box, looking anywhere but directly at you.  

Your chest tightened as a wave of emotion swept over you. The thoughtfulness behind the gift—the way he’d paid attention to all the little details about you—left you speechless. Without thinking, you stood up, leaned toward him, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.  

“Thank you, Crowe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.  

For a moment, Crowe froze, his eyes wide as the room erupted into a chorus of whistles and teasing laughter. His hand flew to his cheek, and the tips of his ears turned a faint shade of red.  

“Well, well, well,” Brittney said loudly, holding up her phone and snapping a picture. “Looks like Crowe’s the real winner tonight.”  

Crowe groaned, glaring playfully at her. “Don’t you have a party to host or something?”  

Brittney smirked. “This is hosting. Carry on, lovebirds.”  

The teasing didn’t stop there. Someone shouted, “How about a speech, Crowe?!” and someone else chimed in with, “Yeah, tell us how it feels to win Christmas!”  

Crowe sighed dramatically, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed how much he appreciated the attention. “It feels like... a conspiracy,” he quipped, shooting you a quick, fond glance.  

As the laughter died down and the gift exchange continued, you found yourself clutching the basket tightly. You caught Crowe looking at you a few times, and each time, he offered a soft, almost shy smile.  

As the night wore on, the room buzzed with laughter and excitement. You sat quietly, watching the group banter back and forth, their camaraderie filling the space with a warmth that rivaled the glow of the twinkling fairy lights strung across the walls. Brittney flitted from group to group, her laughter ringing out as she teased someone about their gift-wrapping skills. Crowe’s voice cut through the chatter every so often, his witty remarks earning groans and snickers alike.  

You smiled at their antics, but the warmth in your chest was tinged with a bittersweet ache. The ease with which they all interacted—the history they shared—sometimes made you feel like an outsider, no matter how much they cared for you. You still felt new. You blinked quickly, willing away the sting in your eyes, but the knot in your throat tightened, looking down at your hands.

A quiet voice broke through your thoughts.  

“Hey.”  

You looked up to find Crowe standing beside you, his brow furrowed, concern softening his usually playful expression. He crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his hand brushing lightly against your arm.  

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low so only you could hear.  

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile as you wiped at your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, though your voice wavered. “I just need some fresh air.”  

He didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he held out a hand, helping you up. “Come on,” he said softly, guiding you toward the door.  

Outside, the crisp night air greeted you, sharp and refreshing against your skin. The muffled sounds of music and laughter from inside felt distant now, replaced by the soft rustling of trees and the faint twinkle of stars overhead.  

You leaned against the railing of the porch, closing your eyes for a moment as you took a deep breath. When you opened them again, Crowe was watching you, his expression unreadable.  

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. Crowe noticed immediately, his brow knitting in concern. Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue handkerchief.  

He stepped closer, his movements gentle as he raised the handkerchief to your cheek, wiping the tear away. His touch was warm and deliberate, his fingertips barely grazing your skin.  

The tenderness of the gesture caught you off guard, and when he realized how close he was, his hand faltered. “Sorry, I—”  

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as a small, shaky breath escaped you. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.  

His hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled back, his lips curving into a small, lopsided smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly.  

The two of you stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the cool night air brushing against your faces. Eventually, Crowe leaned against the railing beside you, his arm brushing yours as he tilted his head back to look at the sky.  

“Do you know much about constellations?” he asked, his tone lighter now.  

You glanced at him, grateful for the change in mood. “A little. Why?”  

He pointed upward, his hand tracing the shape of a cluster of stars. “That one right there—that’s Cassiopeia. The queen who bragged about how beautiful she was and got herself in trouble with the gods.”  

You laughed softly. “Sounds like someone I know.”  

Crowe gasped in mock offense, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’ll have you know, I am humble to a fault.”  

“Sure, princeling,” you teased, nudging him gently with your shoulder.  

He grinned, his gaze drifting back to the stars. “Anyway, you’re more like Andromeda. You know, the princess who was chained to a rock but ended up becoming a constellation. Quiet strength, endless beauty... and the kind of person you can’t help but notice.”  

Your breath hitched slightly at his words, and when you turned to look at him, his eyes were already on you, warm and sincere.  

“I...” You hesitated, your emotions threatening to spill over again. But instead of speaking, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small box.  

“I almost forgot,” you said, your voice steadying. “This is for you.”  

Crowe blinked, surprised, as he took the box from your hands. When he opened it, his expression softened even further. Inside were two matching necklaces, one in gold and one in silver, with interlocking stars at the center.  

“They fit together,” you explained, taking the gold one and clipping it around his neck. “Yours is gold and mine’s silver. I thought...” You hesitated again, suddenly shy. “I thought it’d be a nice reminder.”  

Crowe’s fingers brushed the charm, his gaze flicking between the necklace and you. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice low. “Thank you.”  

The two of you stood close, the distance between you barely enough to breathe, yet it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Your hands brushed as you admired the matching necklaces, an unspoken connection flickering between the two of you. Crowe’s lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but then he suddenly laughed, his eyes catching something in the distance.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, your head tilting curiously, the soft flicker of the holiday lights casting a warm glow on your face.

He pointed upward, his eyes mischievous. “You didn’t notice?”

Following his gaze, your eyes landed on a sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you, its green leaves almost glowing under the lights. The realization hit you, and heat surged to your cheeks, a soft flush spreading across your skin. You looked back at him, your heart suddenly racing, and found him raising his hands in mock surrender, his lips curling into that knowing smile of his.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his tone playful but edged with something deeper, like he was daring you to take the plunge. “It’s just a belief, you know—.”

But you didn’t let him finish. Without a second thought, you stepped closer, closing the gap between you until you were mere inches apart. Your fingers gently cupped his cheek, and as his breath hitched, you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was electric. Crowe froze for the briefest of seconds, as if surprised by your sudden boldness, but then he melted into it, his hands settling onto your waist, his touch firm yet careful. The world around you seemed to vanish, the only thing that existed was the sensation of his lips against yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. It was soft, tender, but there was an intensity to it—like a fire that had been smoldering, just waiting for the right moment to ignite.

His lips moved against yours, slow at first, savoring the closeness. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through the way his chest pressed gently against yours. You pulled him in closer, your hands tangling in the fabric of his jacket, as though afraid that if you let go, the moment would slip away. His body was pressed against yours now, his chest flush against yours, his strong arms securing you in place, as if to make sure you didn’t fall.

When you finally pulled back, the air between you seemed charged, crackling with unspoken words. His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, deeply in love and warm with something that made your heart race. He smiled, a slow, genuine curve of his lips, his voice low and tender when he finally spoke.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” he whispered, his words almost lost in the space between your lips. His hand remained at the small of your back, holding you close, his fingers warm against your skin.

Before you could even process the weight of his words, a loud voice broke through the fragile moment.

“Got it!” Brittney crowed from the window, waving her phone triumphantly as if she had just captured a moment of great importance.

You groaned, your face immediately hiding in your hands, embarrassed, but Crowe just laughed, the sound warm and carefree, his arm effortlessly wrapping around your shoulders.

“Let them watch,” he said with a grin, pulling you closer, his breath tickling your ear. “I don’t care.”

And for the first time that night, as his arm pulled you tighter against him, you didn’t care either.

If you picked Sol!

You stood motionless, phone resting in your hand, as you stared at the glowing screen.  

— You: I’d love to come. When should I meet you?  

Hyugo’s response came almost immediately.  

— Hyugo: 6:30 at the park entrance. Can’t wait!  

A small smile tugged at your lips, the kind that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You knew tonight would be special; Hyugo and Sol had a way of making even the simplest outings unforgettable. But as your gaze drifted to Crowe’s name in your contacts, the smile faded.  

Crowe.

He deserved to know you wouldn’t be there. You owed him that much.  

Your thumb hovered over the call button, hesitating as a pang of guilt settled in your chest. This wasn’t an easy decision, but you couldn’t be everywhere at once. Taking a steadying breath, you pressed the button and lifted the phone to your ear.  

The line rang twice before Crowe answered, his familiar voice as warm and teasing as ever. “Hey, what’s up? Please don’t tell me you’re chickening out on me for tonight.”  

A soft laugh escaped you, but the guilt in your tone was unmistakable. “Not exactly chickening out, but... I can’t make it. I have other plans.”  

The silence that followed stretched long enough to make your chest tighten. You checked the screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped, but then Crowe’s voice returned, quieter now.  

“Oh. I see. Well, that’s okay. I mean, we’ll miss you, but it’s not Christmas without options, right?”  

His attempt at lightness only deepened the ache in your heart. You could hear the subtle disappointment beneath his words, even if he was trying to hide it.  

“I’m sorry, Crowe,” you said softly. “I really hope you have a great time. Merry Christmas.”  

He chuckled lightly, though the usual energy in his laugh wasn’t there. “Yeah, you too. Take care, okay?”  

When the call ended, you stared at the blank screen for a moment, the weight of your choice pressing on you. Crowe’s voice lingered in your mind, and for a fleeting second, you almost reconsidered. But tonight was about something different—something you couldn’t quite name yet.  

Later that evening, you arrived at the park entrance, the crisp night air nipping at your cheeks as the scent of pine and roasted chestnuts filled the air. Strings of twinkling lights turned the trees into glowing sculptures, and the cheerful hum of holiday music mingled with the sound of children laughing and families chatting.  

Your breath puffed in the cold air as you scanned the crowd. It didn’t take long to spot Hyugo leaning against a lamppost, his tall frame relaxed and his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets. He gave you a small wave, but it wasn’t Hyugo who drew your attention.  

A few steps away stood Sol.  

He was dressed impeccably, his white button-up shirt and green suit jacket tailored perfectly to his lean frame. The deep green of the jacket brought out the striking shade of his eyes, and his neatly styled ponytail only emphasized the sharp lines of his face. His bangs framed his expression, highlighting the glint of the piercings lining his ears.  

But it was the bouquet in his hands that truly caught your attention. A cluster of green roses, delicate and vibrant against the cold winter backdrop.  

Your heart skipped a beat as you walked toward him, your eyes widening. “Green roses,” you said softly, taking the bouquet from his hands with care. “They’re about life and growth. Hope, too.”  

Sol blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before his expression softened. A faint blush crept up his neck as he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah... I thought you’d like them.”  

You couldn’t help yourself. Without thinking, you leaned forward and hugged him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.  

Sol froze, his body going stiff as his blush deepened to an almost crimson hue. He stammered incoherently for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as if to ground himself.  

“Well, this is already adorable,” Hyugo said, his calm voice laced with amusement as he walked up. “Thanks for officially making me the third wheel tonight.”  

You laughed, clutching the roses to your chest as you turned to Hyugo. “Don’t be so dramatic. Here, I have something for you.”  

Reaching into the small gift bag in your hand, you pulled out a silver katana necklace. Hyugo’s brows lifted as he took it, his fingers brushing the delicate chain.  

“Wow,” he said, holding it up to catch the light. “This is... really nice. Thanks!”  

“Only the best for you,” you teased, grinning as he slipped it on. The chain glinted under the lights, and he adjusted it with a satisfied nod.  

“Looks good on me, doesn’t it?” he said, striking a mock-serious pose.  

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “It does. But let’s not let it go to your head, okay?”  

As the three of you began walking into the park, the weight of the earlier phone call began to ease. The twinkling lights, the crisp air, and the warmth of your friends’ presence all blended into a moment you wouldn’t forget.  

The world around you transformed into a glowing wonderland of twinkling lights. Strings of bulbs wound through the trees like cascading stars, and lanterns in festive shapes lined the paths. The air was filled with the sounds of cheerful laughter, holiday music, and the occasional jingling bell from a passing sleigh ride.  

Hyugo walked ahead, his easy stride and relaxed demeanor making him seem like he belonged in this magical setting. Occasionally, he pointed out displays, his commentary a mix of genuine appreciation and sarcastic humor.  

“See that?” he said, gesturing to a particularly gaudy reindeer display. “That’s exactly what my family’s yard looks like. Overachieving neighbors are a real thing.”  

You laughed, falling into step with Sol, who had remained quieter than usual. He walked beside you, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets now that the bouquet was safely cradled in your arms. His reddish-orange eyes flitted between the lights and you, his expression thoughtful.  

“You okay back there, Sol?” Hyugo called over his shoulder, smirking. “You’re way too quiet. I’m starting to think the roses did all the talking for you.”  

Sol’s cheeks flushed again, but he managed a small smile. “I’m fine. Just... enjoying the view.” Hyugo snorted. “Yeah, sure you are.”  

You glanced up at Sol, catching the way his gaze lingered on you before darting away. Your heart skipped slightly, and you decided to give him a reprieve from Hyugo’s teasing. “The lights are beautiful,” you said softly, gesturing toward the canopy of stars above the path.  

Sol nodded, his voice equally quiet. “Yeah, they are.”  

The three of you continued along the winding path, pausing occasionally to take in the more elaborate displays—a massive tree covered in golden lights, an archway adorned with glittering ornaments, and a whimsical snowman family that had children running circles around it.  

Hyugo excused himself after spotting a nearby food stall. “I’m getting hot cocoa. Anyone want some?”  

You shook your head, and Sol muttered a soft, “No, thanks.”  

“Suit yourselves. I’ll be back in a bit,” Hyugo said with a casual wave, leaving you and Sol alone under the shimmering lights.  

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged with something unspoken. Sol glanced at you, his hands fidgeting slightly in his pockets.  

“You look really nice tonight,” he said suddenly, his voice shy but earnest.  

You turned to him, surprised. “Thank you. You do, too.”  

He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he wasn’t sure how far to let it go. “I mean it,” he added, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. “You always look nice, but tonight... I don’t know. You’re so pretty.”  

Your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice softer this time.  

The lights overhead cast a soft glow on both of you, the world feeling smaller and quieter. Your thoughts began to wander, and a faint ache tugged at your chest.  

You’d spent so many Christmases surrounded by family, their familiar warmth and chaos filling every corner of your childhood home. This year was different. You’d made a life for yourself in the city and built relationships and traditions with your friends, but the distance from your family suddenly felt heavier than ever.  

Sol noticed the shift in your expression immediately. His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, stepping closer. “Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?”  

You blinked quickly, realizing tears had started to well in your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, wiping at them with a quick smile. “I’m fine. Just... thinking about home.”  

His concern deepened, and for a moment, he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Finally, he reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay to miss them,” he said softly. “You don’t have to hide it.”  

The warmth in his voice unraveled something inside you, and you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you, Sol,” you murmured.  

A small smile returned to his face, and he pulled his hand back, letting the moment settle. After a few moments, you reached into your bag, a spark of excitement cutting through the heaviness in your chest. “Actually, I have something for you,” you said, pulling out a small box.  

Sol blinked in surprise, watching as you handed it to him. “What’s this?”  

“Open it,” you said with a grin.  

He carefully lifted the lid to reveal a miniature horse keychain, painted green and black to match his colors. Sol’s eyes widened, and a small, genuine smile spread across his face.  

“For me?” he asked, his voice almost disbelieving.  

You nodded. “And this one’s for me,” you added, pulling out a matching keychain—a small cat painted in your favorite colors. “Now we’ve got matching keychains. To think of each other, you know.”  

Sol stared at the tiny horse in his hands, his fingers brushing the smooth surface. “I love it,” he said finally, his voice quiet but full of emotion. “Thank you.”  

Before you could respond, Sol reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a neatly wrapped box. “I, uh... have something for you too,” he said, handing it over.  

You unwrapped it carefully, and your breath caught as the lid lifted to reveal the music box you’d been dreaming about for months.  

Tears sprang to your eyes again, but this time they were filled with pure joy. You couldn’t quite believe what you were seeing. “Sol… how did you…?”

He stood there, his hands twitching nervously at his sides, the usual confidence he carried nowhere to be found. He took a tentative step closer, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. “I remembered you talking about it once,” he said, his voice faltering, tinged with uncertainty. “I just thought you should have it.”

His words, the meaning behind them, hit you all at once. He was so thoughtful, so careful. But it was his panicked expression that really caught you off guard. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure whether to comfort you or retreat, his reddish orange eyes wide with worry, silently questioning if he had done too much. “I—was this too much? I just thought you’d—”

You couldn’t bear to see him like that, unsure and vulnerable, so you stepped forward, closing the distance between you. Slowly, you rose up onto your toes, your hands wrapping around his broad shoulders, grounding yourself in his presence.

Before he could finish his thought, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, letting your emotions guide you. His breath hitched, and for a long moment, everything seemed to pause. The twinkling lights that decorated the trees, the distant laughter of other parkgoers, even the crisp winter air—all of it faded away, leaving only the heat of his skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that somehow synced with yours.

Sol froze at first, his lips still under yours, as if his mind hadn’t caught up with what was happening. But slowly, you felt him relax into the kiss. His hands, unsure at first, settled lightly on your arms, and then, as if he was grounding himself in the moment, they tightened just slightly, pulling you in closer.

His touch was little rough, but you could feel the depth of his feelings in the way his fingers brushed against your skin—like he was afraid to let go, as if the moment might slip away if he did.

When you finally pulled back, the air around you felt charged, alive with the emotion you both had been holding back. Sol stood there, his wide eyes locked on you, his cheeks flushed so deeply that even the tips of his ears had turned a deep shade of red. His chest rose and fell quickly, like he couldn’t quite process what had just happened.

“I… uh…” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper, as if words had momentarily escaped him.

A soft laugh escaped you, breaking the intensity of the moment. You wiped away the lingering tears from your cheeks, trying to steady yourself. “Thank you, Sol,” you said, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling in your chest. “For everything. For the music box, for being here… for being you.”

Sol’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to respond, but instead, all he managed was a shy, lopsided smile. The kind that made your heart flutter, as if his very soul was laid bare in that simple gesture.

You smiled back, your cheeks still flushed with warmth despite the winter chill, and there was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that made everything feel right, in a way you never expected.

“And for the record,” you added softly, your tone more serious now, “I care about you. So much.”

Sol’s smile deepened, and his eyes seemed to glow with a mixture of disbelief and quiet happiness. His voice, when it came, was so soft, so full of emotion, it felt like a secret meant just for you. “I’m just glad you’re here,” he murmured, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch warm and tender. “You’re the best muse I’ll ever have.”

His words hung in the air between you, and it felt like time itself had slowed down, each second stretching into eternity as you stood there, lost in the quiet connection you shared. The world, the winter, the chaos of everything else—it all melted away in that one moment, leaving only the feeling of his hands, his heart, and the soft glow of your shared affection.

Before either of you could say more, Hyugo’s suddenly voice cut through the tender moment, laced with amusement.  

“Well, I feel like I should leave you two lovebirds alone, but... I also don’t want to walk home alone, so…”  

The interruption made you laugh, the sound light and genuine as the heaviness in your chest fully lifted. Sol’s blush only deepened, and he looked down, scratching the back of his neck in his usual awkward fashion.  

Your hand found his instinctively, your fingers lacing together as you turned to face Hyugo. “You’re hopeless,” you called teasingly.  

��Yeah, yeah,” Hyugo said with a mock sigh. “Glad you’ve finally figured that out.”  

As the three of you continued along the path, Sol’s grip on your hand remained firm, his thumb brushing lightly against yours as though to reassure himself this wasn’t a dream. The lights above reflected in his eyes, making them shine like rubies against the backdrop of the winter evening.  

After a few moments of quiet, Sol glanced at you, his gaze steady but laced with a familiar shyness. “Thanks for being here,” he said, his voice low but full of meaning.  

You looked up at him, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course. Where else would I be?”  

He hesitated for just a second, and then, with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he added, “…And I’m glad I didn’t have to shed any blood to win you over.”  

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him in mock disbelief before bursting into laughter. “What a charmer,” you said, shaking your head.  

Sol chuckled softly, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “What can I say? …I aim to impress you alone.”  

The teasing gave way to a comfortable silence as the two of you continued walking, your hands still intertwined. The world around you felt warmer, and brighter, like the holiday lights above had found a way to settle into your chest and glow from the inside out.  

For the first time that night, you felt completely at peace, the bittersweet ache of the season replaced by something sweeter: the quiet, steadfast warmth of someone who cared for you deeply.  

You two reached Hyugo, who was waiting by another set of light displays, waving his hand over to call you and Sol to have a closer look.

You couldn’t help but think that this chilly winter night had turned into something magical.  

The soft hum of your phone was the only sound in the stillness of your room, the faint light casting long shadows across the walls as you lay there, scrolling through the pictures from the night of Christmas Eve. Each image flickered before your eyes like a fragment of time—memories that felt both distant and vivid, frozen in the glow of your screen.

The liveliness of Crowe and his friends, the way their energy seemed to fill the room and make the night brighter. Or the warmth of the park, the laughter of Hyugo and Sol, their voices mingling with the cold December air. 

You felt an unexpected peace settle deep in your chest, a quiet kind of comfort.

College may have been over, for now, but something else had started to take root—connections that would stretch far beyond the walls of classrooms and lectures. Friendships that felt solid, steady, like something that might stand the test of time.

Just as you set the phone aside, your eyes began to flutter shut, your body sinking into the softness of the bed, drifting completely off to sleep.

Afterward, the soft sound at the window—a quiet rustle of fabric, the faintest click of the latch being undone. Then, a shadow moved across the room, sleek and fluid, dressed entirely in black. The figure moved with practiced ease, slipping silently through your window as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sol.

His silhouette was barely visible against the darkness, but you could feel the presence of his mischievous grin even before he stepped into the soft pool of light in your room. He was quick, and efficient as if he had done this a hundred times before, and yet there was something undeniably thoughtful in the way he moved—careful not to disturb anything, as if he didn’t want to interrupt the calm of the night.

He stood there for a moment, just watching your sleeping figure, his eyes heart-shaped, glinting with quiet amusement. You could feel something warm in his gaze. Then, he crossed the room, slow enough not to startle you, and crouched down at the edge of your bed. His black clothing blended into the shadows, the outline of his lean figure and the small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You were deep in sleep, the world around you a blur of comforting darkness. And yet, in that dreamlike space, you could feel his presence, like a whisper threading through the silence. 

"You made it through the year," his voice murmured, a soft, velvety tone that carried a weight of something unspoken—something meaningful. His words were like a gentle caress, and though you could barely register them in your dream state, they stirred something inside you, something warm, something that made you feel understood. 

A movement—delicate, almost reverent—pulled you from the haze of sleep. His hand, steady and sure, reached out to you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch was feather-light, as though he was afraid to disturb the fragile peace of the moment. You could feel the warmth of his fingertips lingering on your skin, a soft, lingering touch that made you feel protected, and cared for, even in your slumber.

"Wishing you the best in the new year," he whispered, his voice barely audible but thick with intent. 

You didn’t stir, caught in the embrace of sleep, but somehow, his words echoed through your mind like a distant lullaby. His hand dropped, and then there was a shift, the movement of him leaning forward, his presence closer now, filling the space between you. 

His lips brushed against your lip, the kiss so gentle it felt like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. It was brief, fleeting, but tender—an unspoken promise, woven into the light touch, something that lingered on your skin even after he pulled away. His warmth stayed with you for a heartbeat, then another, the feeling of him still hanging in the air like a quiet echo.

For a moment, everything was still. His expression remained unreadable, as it often did, but there was something else there—something deeper, more sincere than you were used to seeing. He didn’t need to say more; his presence was enough. 

"Happy New Year~” he said, his voice soft but carrying a quiet smile, one that tugged at the corners of his lips as though he knew something you didn’t. And then, as swiftly as he had come, he was gone—leaving behind only the lingering warmth of his touch and the faintest trace of his words, woven into the fabric of your dreams. Still, a smile tugged at your lips as you thought about the promise of the new year—of fresh starts and endless possibilities.

Whatever moments the future held, you knew they'd be all the more meaningful depending on who you chose to share them with.

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[deliciousangelfestival]

Holly Jolly Charade | Bucky

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female! Reader

Summary: Turns out, bringing a fake boyfriend to a family dinner worked out just fine.

Prompt: fake dating becomes too real

Part 2 : The Christmas Shift

Written for @the-slumberparty's December Daze Challenge.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband on Kindle. 👉 Now available on e-Kindle Amazon! << here's the link.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Have you ever had one of those mornings that just feel perfect? The kind where everything aligns so effortlessly it feels like the universe is on your side?

No traffic, no line at the coffee shop, and all your usual rush-hour chaos smoothed out like butter on warm toast. Especially now, with Christmas looming, when there’s so much to get done, a morning like that feels like a miracle.

But just when you think the day’s off to a perfect start, something always has to disrupt the flow. This time, it’s your phone buzzing with a text message.

Mom:

"I’ve sent our ride to pick you up. No more excuses!"

You groaned audibly and rolled your eyes so hard they almost hurt. The text left an invisible weight pressing on your chest. It wasn’t like you hated your family, but the thought of attending their Christmas dinner was… exhausting. Ever since you moved out, you’d been dodging these gatherings like a pro.

In the first couple of years, they were understanding. Your excuse? A new job, fresh out of college, with long hours and no time for travel. They’d bought it. Then, a few years later, you said you were busy building your business, and that worked too.

But now? Now your business was thriving, and worse, everyone knew it. Thanks to that damn magazine article, your entire extended family knew about your company’s success. Including how much profit it was making. You should’ve refused the interview. You should’ve told your friends to leave you out of it.

Now there were no excuses left. Your family saw right through them.

You tossed your phone onto your desk with a huff and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to come up with a last-minute plan. The thought of sitting at that table, sharing space with your aunt of all people, made your stomach twist.

She was the epitome of judgmental nosiness, prying into every corner of your private life, not because she cared but because she wanted to compare. She loved knowing someone was doing worse than she was—it was like her secret Christmas joy.

You groaned again, typing furiously on your phone. “How to get away from Christmas family dinner” was the search query, but every suggestion seemed ridiculous or impractical. You sighed, slumping back in your chair.

A sudden knock at the door startled you.

“Come in,” you said, not bothering to glance up from your phone.

The door creaked open, and your vice president, Bucky Barnes, stepped in. He held a stack of papers in one hand, his other shoved casually into his pocket. His loose, long hair, still a work in progress, framed his annoyingly handsome face. He was wearing a crisp blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, black pants, and the faintest smirk on his lips.

“Here’s the report,” he said, stepping closer and placing it on your desk. “Just need your signature, and the team can have an early paycheck.”

You glanced up briefly, pen already in hand. "Why didn't the finance guy give this to me?"

"Because they're afraid of you." He leaned against the desk, folding his arms, his smirk growing into something more mischievous.

“You look like someone Googling excuses to avoid their ex,” he teased, tilting his head toward your phone. “Or did your mom finally pin you down for the family Christmas dinner?”

You shot him a withering glare, tapping the pen against the report in irritation. “Mind your business, Barnes.”

“Hard not to,” he said with a shrug. “You’ve been muttering under your breath about aunts for the past five minutes. Also, your face? It’s doing that scrunchy thing again. Looks like someone ate a lemon.”

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms, staring daggers at him. “You’re awfully chatty for someone who’s been begging me for months to let him quit.”

“Begging?” He scoffed, a mock look of offense crossing his face. “I just said I wanted to try something new. But nooo, you’re like, ‘Stay here, Bucky. You’re the best VP ever.’” He fluttered his eyelashes dramatically, earning an eye roll from you.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, snatching the pen and signing the document with more force than necessary.

“Aw, is that your way of saying you’d miss me?” He grinned, grabbing the papers and straightening them with a satisfied nod.

“No. It’s my way of saying you’d never survive on your own.”

He laughed, heading for the door. “Well, good luck with Christmas dinner. Don’t forget—misery loves company. Or in your case, a nosy aunt and smug cousins.”

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him as you continued scrolling through your phone. Your search results were less than helpful, but then one suggestion caught your eye: “Tell them you’re traveling with your boyfriend.”

The idea wasn’t entirely ridiculous. Your mom had been nagging you about finding someone and settling down for ages. Without thinking it through, you began typing a message.

“I can’t. I already have a trip planned with my boyfriend. Didn’t you want me to get married?”

Satisfied with the excuse, you hit send and placed your phone on the desk.

Not even two seconds later, the screen lit up with an incoming video call. It was your mom.

“Crap!” you yelped, fumbling for the phone. In your panic, you almost dropped it, but Bucky, quick as ever, snatched it mid-air. Unfortunately, his finger brushed the screen, accidentally accepting the call.

Your mother’s delighted face filled the screen. “Oh my goodness, you didn’t lie! You have a boyfriend. And a handsome one at that!”

Bucky froze, his eyes widening in shock. “Uh… I… wait—”

Your mom wasn’t listening. She leaned closer to her phone camera, grinning ear to ear. “It’s so nice to meet you! Both of you are still at the office, I see. Perfect. Cancel your plans and bring him to the family dinner!” With that, she hung up before you could say a word.

You stared at the blank screen, your hand still frozen mid-air. “What the heck just happened?”

Bucky turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “I think I just got adopted as your boyfriend.”

You groaned, rubbing your forehead. “This is a disaster. I texted her saying I had plans with my boyfriend so I wouldn’t have to go to dinner.”

“Do you even have a boyfriend?”

“No!” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “And now my mom thinks we’re together!”

Before Bucky could respond, your assistant knocked on the door. “Ma’am, the driver is waiting downstairs for you.”

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, scrambling to grab your coat.

Bucky leaned casually against the doorframe, watching you with an amused expression. “I could play along, you know.”

“You? Helping me?” You scoffed, slipping your arms into the coat.

He shrugged, grabbing his own jacket. “I didn’t say I’d do it for free.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s the catch?”

“I want to resign. And a generous bonus while we’re at it.”

You gaped at him, incredulous. “Seriously? Why do you want to quit so badly? You’ve got great benefits here.”

He followed you out of the office, adjusting his jacket as he walked. “I want to explore more. I’ve learned a lot here, but it’s time for something new.”

You glanced at him, half-annoyed, half-impressed by his confidence. “Unbelievable.”

“Come on,” he said with a mischievous grin. “How hard can pretending to be your boyfriend really be? I’ll even charm your aunt.”

“Oh, this is going to be a nightmare,” you muttered as the two of you stepped into the elevator.

“Maybe,” Bucky said with a smirk, “but at least it won’t be boring.”

As you stepped into the lobby, your eyes immediately landed on the sleek black Maybach parked by the curb. The driver stood beside it, wearing a formal suit and gloves, ready to escort you to the inevitable Christmas dinner. Of course, it was your mom’s car—a glaring reminder that she always got her way.

You stood frozen for a moment, torn between irritation and resignation. The reality of the situation hit you like a weight: there was no escape this time. You chewed the inside of your cheek, contemplating running back upstairs and locking yourself in your office.

Before you could make a move, you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, you found Bucky standing there, casually slipping on his coat.

“Fine,” you sighed. “I’ll fire you.”

His lips quirked into a triumphant grin. “Finally.”

“But,” you added sharply, pointing a finger at him, “if you want to leave on good terms, you’d better play your part well. Convince my family—especially my aunt—that we’re a couple.”

Bucky gave you a mock salute, his grin widening. “Got it. I’ll play my part like I’m gunning for an Oscar.”

You nearly laughed at his response, a small chuckle escaping despite yourself. “Let’s go.”

Once inside the car, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through pictures of your family. Handing it to Bucky, you said, “Don’t worry about my cousins—they’re pretty cool and don’t ask too many questions. The real trouble is my aunt.” You pointed at a specific photo.

“That one,” you said, gesturing to a woman in her sixties, decked out in pearls, bright red lipstick, and chunky jade bracelets on both wrists. “She’s the one you need to watch out for.”

Bucky studied the picture, raising an eyebrow. “She looks… interesting. Definitely has a lot of character.”

You snorted. “That’s one way to put it. She’s the type who compares everything—lives, careers, relationships. If she starts asking questions, keep your answers vague. She’ll latch onto anything you say.”

Bucky nodded thoughtfully, his expression serious. “Got it. What about your parents?”

“They’ll be relieved the moment they see me walking in with a boyfriend,” you said dryly.

He nodded again, absorbing the information like he was preparing for a mission. “Then I’ll make sure to play my part well.”

🎄🎄🎄🎄

Inside, the house was bursting with holiday cheer. Laughter echoed through the halls, mingling with the warm hum of Christmas music. The living room was a festive wonderland, filled with garlands, twinkling lights, and an enormous tree decorated to perfection.

The moment you stepped through the door, a woman in an elegant dress swept toward you, her arms outstretched.

“Finally!” your mom, Robin, exclaimed, pulling you into a side hug. Her perfume was a comforting mix of cinnamon and vanilla, and her excitement was almost infectious.

Then her eyes landed on Bucky, and her expression shifted into one of pure delight. “My prayers have been answered,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Come here!”

Before Bucky could react, she pulled him into a warm hug. He blinked, caught off guard but recovering quickly, wrapping an arm around her lightly.

“I’m sorry for the late introduction, ma’am,” Bucky said smoothly, stepping back with a polite smile. “I’m Bucky.”

You stepped in before your mom could ask questions. “We just became official recently.”

Robin’s face lit up even more, her eyes darting between the two of you. “Good! Welcome, Bucky.”

“Thank you,” he said with a slight bow, his tone respectful but calm.

As you stood with your mom and Bucky in the foyer, a woman approached, her presence unmistakable. She wore pearls as if they were a permanent part of her body, bright red lipstick that seemed freshly applied, and her signature jade bracelets jangled with every step. Her hair was big—almost comically so—and styled to perfection. It was your aunt Teresa, the one you had warned Bucky about.

“Well, well, well,” Teresa said, her eyes scanning Bucky like he was a prize. “Is this the boyfriend I’ve heard so much about?”

You stiffened, forcing a tight smile. “Yes.”

Bucky, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a friendly grin. “Bucky Barnes. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Oh, call me Teresa,” she purred, giving him an appraising look. “You’re quite the charmer. And so handsome! No wonder she finally brought someone home.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, struggling to maintain your composure.

“So,” Teresa continued, her tone dripping with faux curiosity, “how long have you two been together?”

“Not too long,” you said curtly, trying to end the conversation.

“A little over three months,” Bucky added smoothly, his tone warm and engaging.

“Three months?” Teresa said, arching a perfectly shaped brow. “Well, you’d better lock him up, dear,” she said, turning to you. “We’ll be planning another wedding soon!”

“Teresa,” Robin interjected gently, noticing your discomfort. “Why don’t we give them a moment to settle in?”

You took the opportunity to grab Bucky’s arm and drag him away, your jaw clenched.

As soon as you were out of earshot, you muttered, “That’s just the beginning. Wait until she finishes her fifth glass of wine.”

Bucky chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “She’s... entertaining.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s one way to put it.”

Later, Bucky met your cousins in the den, and as you predicted, they were laid-back and easy to talk to. They exchanged jokes and stories, asking Bucky only a few lighthearted questions about his work. You watched from the sidelines, thankful that at least some of your family wasn’t exhausting.

At dinner, everyone gathered around the massive dining table, the centerpiece adorned with candles and holiday-themed decorations. The atmosphere was warm and festive, but the moment Teresa began talking, you felt the familiar weight of dread settle in.

“So,” Teresa began, her voice carrying over the clinking of cutlery, “my son just secured a new oil permit. Big deal, you know. And my daughter-in-law? She got promoted to partner at her firm. Isn’t that wonderful?”

You nodded politely, forcing a neutral expression. “That’s great, Aunt Teresa.”

“And what about you?” Teresa asked, her tone dripping with condescension. “I hear your little business is doing well. But it must be so stressful, hmm? All that work with no one to share it with.”

You bit back a retort, focusing on your plate instead.

Bucky leaned toward you and whispered, “This is boring.”

“Yup,” you murmured in agreement, spearing a piece of food with your fork. “She always does this. She’s the one who insists on family dinners.”

The two of you exchanged quiet remarks, completely ignoring Teresa’s continued self-praise. Finally, she noticed and turned her attention to both of you.

“Are you two even listening?” Teresa snapped, her bracelets clinking as she gestured dramatically. “And tell me, when are you two getting married?”

Bucky didn’t miss a beat. He leaned back in his chair, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Well, Teresa, we want to make sure we don’t rush it. After all, we wouldn’t want to overshadow the amazing achievements of your son and daughter-in-law.”

The room went silent for a moment before your cousins stifled laughter, and Teresa pursed her lips, clearly caught off guard.

After dinner, you helped your mom arrange desserts on the table in the kitchen. The aroma of freshly baked pies and cinnamon filled the air. Robin looked pleased, humming softly as she arranged plates.

From the dining room, Teresa’s voice drifted in as she tried to corner Bucky for more questions.

“So, Bucky,” Teresa began, her tone overly sweet. “Tell me, what’s it like working with her? She must be such a perfectionist.”

Bucky didn’t falter. “Actually, she’s brilliant. One of the smartest and most hardworking people I’ve ever met.”

Teresa narrowed her eyes slightly, clearly fishing for more. “But she must be difficult sometimes. Don’t you think?”

Bucky smiled, his tone calm but firm. “No more difficult than anyone else who’s successful. If anything, she makes work more enjoyable.”

You overheard the exchange and couldn’t help but feel a flicker of gratitude. For all his teasing, Bucky had your back.

Later, when the two of you were finally alone in the den, you let out a long breath and slumped onto the couch. Bucky poured himself a glass of whiskey from the bar cart and sank into the armchair across from you.

“You’re fired, Bucky,” you said, though there was no heat in your voice.

He chuckled, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Thanks, boss.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “Seriously, thanks. I’m glad you came.”

“Anytime,” he replied, sipping his whiskey. “Just don’t make me sit next to Teresa again.”

You both laughed, the tension of the evening finally starting to fade.

You leaned back on the couch, your fingers tapping the glass of wine in your hand. The room had gone quiet after the bustling chaos of the family dinner, and Bucky was nursing his whiskey with a far-off look in his eyes.

“I still don’t get it,” you said, breaking the silence. “Why do you keep wanting to quit?”

Bucky’s gaze shifted to you, his expression unreadable at first. Then, he set his glass down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Because I want to be on the same level as you,” he said, his voice steady but carrying a weight that made you pause.

You blinked, confused. “Huh?”

“I want to start my own business,” he explained, his eyes meeting yours. “Be my own boss. I’ve learned so much working with you, but I need to prove to myself that I can do it too.”

You studied him, trying to piece together the sudden intensity in his words. “That’s it? You’ve got some big plans, huh?”

Bucky exhaled a soft chuckle, but there was something else in his eyes—something unspoken. “Yeah, big plans,” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “I’ve always admired you, you know. Not just for what you’ve built, but for who you are.”

You tilted your head, still not fully grasping the weight of his words. “You admire me?”

He looked at you, his blue eyes holding yours longer than usual. “Yeah. For a long time now.”

The air between you shifted, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. You thought back to all the years you’d worked together, the arguments, the jokes, and the moments where he always seemed to have your back.

But you dismissed the thought, brushing off the flicker of something deeper. “Well,” you said, forcing a grin, “I’m glad you’re ambitious. Just don’t expect me to give you glowing references when you leave.”

Bucky laughed, leaning back into the armchair. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

That year marked the first time you’d asked Bucky to pretend to be your boyfriend, a favor born out of desperation. He played the part so convincingly that even your family believed it.

The second year came, and to your surprise, you asked him again. By then, it had become a strange tradition—your fake boyfriend who seamlessly charmed your family while sparing you the agony of invasive questions.

By the third year, something had shifted. The lines between pretending and reality blurred, and you couldn’t shake the growing warmth you felt whenever he was near. It wasn’t just gratitude anymore—it was something deeper.

When the fourth year rolled around, you made a decision. No more pretending. You told him you wanted to stop the charade, but instead of ending things, you found yourselves starting something real.

And in the fifth year, you stood side by side at the altar, promising forever to the man who had been beside you all along.

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@mostlymarvelgirl

@scott-loki-barnes

@kjah97

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

A/N : There will be part 2. I'll use the prompt from @the-slumberparty

[xi-xi-chen]

Hola~ I saw somewhere with someone asking how I have the energy for these comics or to draw in general.

I don't. However!

I like to at least sketch one page in the morning and then one in the evening. I used to blow through it all in one day one sitting, but then that lead to a quick burn out and not getting the rest done.

So if anything, the morning/evening is a new thing I'm trying. And then overall, it's just also because I love to draw.

And then, one final quick note that I have for myself if anyone is interested: draw ugly

If I can at least get the stick figures down, then it's one progressive step to the vision I have.

This is probably the closest example I have of a full process (minus the detailed stuff of course) first I make a very rough sketch, and then clean up and then attempt to color. Really my challenge at the moment is anatomy and coloring without greyscaling it all the time or something.

Another example, this is a modern AU of college student Lux crushing on Actress Jinx and have a chance meeting at Starbucks at the campus. Why is Jinx there? To visit the theatre program at the campus and etc etc, I haven't really thought out the whole thing, just really wanted to draw this little moment.

But so far this is what I mean by draw ugly because I really struggled to make even at least 3 pages for it.

I hope that helps for anyone, I'm really determined to master drawing out comics now too, the next challenge would be putting color to it. Thanks for reading!

[tuesdaykiss]

“touching toes”

rafe cameron social media au

“he’s over more and more, had to give him a whole drawer. to be honest, kinda like seeing his trainers by the door.” — olivia dean, ‘touching toes’.

synopsis: after finishing her fashion studies at college in nyc, y/n moves to outerbanks to live with her grandparents. she worries about the loneliness that comes with being in a new place, knowing only her cousin topper and other relatives… that is until she is acquainted with a certain cameron.

part — 7 | 8 | 9

masterlist

your phone

turning off your phone, you placed it on your bedside table, leaving you to stare into the dark abyss of your bedroom.

“so am i” he had said, “friends”. is that all this was? friendship. your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to understand what part of your relationship with the cameron boy exuded mere friendship.

you couldn’t help but feel quite… silly, in a way. were you making this all up in your head? piecing interactions together that meant nothing more than friendship.

a yawn broke its way past your lips, lulling you into a deep sleep of thoughts; a night of overthinking was about to ensue.

rafecam

liked by sarahcameron, boykelce and 54,129 others

rafecam can finally share that i’ll be in @/dazed magazine, next month.

view comments

sarahcameron magazine debut looks good on you!

rafecam couldn’t have done it without you

user aw so they do like each other!

topthornton looking good bro

boykelce what’s 4 + 4?

user2 ATEEEEEE

topthornton who are you and what have you done with kelce?

a loud, repetitive knocking at your bedroom door pulled you from your sleep. knocking was an understatement; harsh thuds repeatedly sounded from the wood of your door.

“i’m coming!” you called out, in an effort to control the noise. dragging yourself from the comfort of your bed and towards the door, you were greeted by topper. his face full of amusement, as he laughed at your state; hair messily placed atop of your head, pyjamas hanging lazily from your frame and your face a telltale sign that you had just awoken.

as topper stepped to the side, you noticed the presence of another. rafe cameron, stood at your kitchen island, popping grapes into his mouth from the fruit bowl.

clutching your forehead, you questioned, “wha- what are you both doing here?”

“well, we were going out to celebrate rafe’s magazine debut,” topper said, nonchalantly, “and he suggested, since you probably have no plans, we ask you to tag along.”

behind topper, you could see rafe attempting to hide his smile; it was obvious that topper had, unbeknownst to him, disturbed the day rafe had planned with you — in an attempt to resurrect it, rafe had suggested you tag along.

“magazine debut?” shock covered your expression, “congrats rafe, that’s amazing!”

“thanks.”

“so are you coming or not?” topper interrupted, clearly growing agitated with your lack of hurry, “beer doesn’t drink itself, y’know.”

“yeah, yeah, just let me go get changed, ‘kay?”

“you have 30 minutes, or we’re leaving without you.”

and with that you departed from the boys in the kitchen, scrambling to your wardrobe to find something to wear.

rafe’s phone

sarahupdates

liked by yourusername, sarahfan101 and 32,091 others

sarahupdates sarah’s brother has his magazine debut, in next month’s edition of @/dazed magazine!

view comments

user he’s so hot

sarahfan101 following in his sister’s footsteps

user2 it’s giving model siblings

user3 he knows he ate

ilovesarah ‘sarah’s brother’ put some respect on his name

user4 fr that’s rafe mf cameron

user5 yup, my mannnnn

a/n: merry christmas to all of those who celebrate… today is a double feature so i’ll see you again in 4 hours for the next part 😉

apologies if it takes me a while to update the masterlist, taglist, etc: i’ve scheduled the next two posts as i’ll be celebrating with family all day!

taglist: @my-name-is-baby @yesshewrites1 @urbrunettebombshell @leather-n-velvet @fruitcakerafe @littlefreak-liz @wdwbts101

[pleasantphantomhologram]

"Please, don't stay sad for too long, okay? I'll be here waiting for you, supporting you through everything. I love you, always"

Title: longing (Part 2) (Previous chapter)

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Reader

Warning: Modern Setting, Fertility problem, Angst, Hurt. 

Summary: After the surgery, you can't help but felt sorry for yourself. how can a woman cant give her husband a kids? But, your husband, Acacius is there hugging you and saying that everything will be alright.

A/N: Hello! it's me again, and happy christmas everyone, here's a gift for me from this holiday. I think i will write so much on this holiday, coz i dont know when will i get my day off again after this holiday, LOL! Enjoy!

After the surgery, the intense pain and aching you'd been feeling all this time vanished, along with your hopes of having a child. That day, you and Acacius had just arrived home after three days in the hospital. The doctor had said you needed another checkup in a week to examine the stitches on your lower abdomen.

Your home with Acacius wasn't big or small, just the right size for a newlywed couple like you. There was a master bedroom and a spare room that you had planned as a nursery for your future child. You hadn't done anything to it yet, but whenever you had free time together, you'd talk about the room. Acacius would always joke about painting it pink if you had a girl.

You opened the door to the room slowly and looked sadly at each corner of the room, which still only contained an unmade bed. You sat on the edge of the bed and ran your hand over the mattress.

A single tear rolled down your cheek, followed by a small sob. No matter how hard you tried to be strong and accept reality, the fact that you couldn't give your husband a child made you feel useless and worthless. What kind of wife couldn't give her husband a child? What was the point of being a woman if you couldn't have children?

You started blaming yourself for everything. You should have taken better care of your health in college; you should have been more careful about what you ate. It was all your fault. Your tears flowed faster, as if something were piercing your heart every time you thought about it. Without realizing it, Marcus came into the room and hugged you tightly.

'It's alright, it's alright. Take a deep breath, babe,' he said. 'I... I... I'm sorry,' you sobbed. 'There's nothing to be sorry for, Y/N. I love you. And that's the only thing that matters,' Acacius said. 'It's okay to be sad now, I know you're feeling so depressed. But I'm here, I'll always be here.'

'I'm so sorry, you married a woman who can't give you a child. You deserve so much better than me.' Hearing Y/N's words, Acacius' heart ached. She shouldn't say that. From the beginning, he had chosen to be with her, not because of that, but because he loved her. He couldn't imagine his life without her.

'No, don't you dare say that again. You're the one I chose, not because of that, but because it's you, Y/N. I can't live without you. I love every day with you, I love every laugh, every smile. Even when you're upset or angry, I accept all of you. All I want is for us to be happy together, in this house, maybe with a cat or two. I know you love those furry little creatures, and maybe we'll adopt a couple later. Please, don't stay sad for too long, okay? I'll be here waiting for you, supporting you through everything. I love you, always.'

Hearing Acacius' words, Y/N could only hug her husband tightly. She was so lucky to have him.

'I love you too,' she whispered. Acacius smiled and wiped away her tears.

'So, what name do you want to give the cats?' Acacius asked, trying to lighten the mood while still smiling at his wife.

Finally, slowly, the tears turned into a small smile. They might not know what the future held, but one thing was certain: everything would be okay as long as they were together.

[celli-ohs]

hubba hubba!

part two of accidentally in love! series frat boy!yeonjun x stubborn!reader; college!au, one-sided love to lovers! comedy/crack, fluff, angst, smut

ATTENTION: reply/comment for taglist!

19. CODE CYAN ‼️‼️(written portion 950)

This was Yeonjun’s 15th call in the last hour. After receiving your reality check from your friends, you quietly hide in your bedroom, locking the door. You decided to be an adult and do this alone. You see his name flash on your screen, paired with a funny photo of the man you’d captured a few weeks ago. Yeonjun was sticking out his ass (which you found he did quite often, he definitely was an ass guy, seeing as he quite literally kissed yours last night) for all to see. You loved that photo because it captured him perfectly: a silly and loving young man. Finally, after the fourth ring, you pick up. “Hello?” You mumble, holding your breath. There’s silence. “Y-Y/n?” Yeonjun suddenly croaks. His voice is coarse, he sounds as if he’s been crying. You suddenly feel even more horrible. This was worse than you thought.

“I never thought you were going to pick up,” Yeonjun admits, hiccuping. You wince, he sounds so miserable. “I just needed a moment.” You sigh. “I’m so sorry.” He suddenly apologizes. “I promise I never meant to hurt you, I didn’t leave you on purpose! I went to get my phone- I left it last night and I thought you’d like breakfast too so I went-“ As Yeonjun begins to ramble, you begin to realize the mistake you’d made. Someone as genuine and trusting as Yeonjun didn’t deserve someone like you: insecure, immature, and selfish. “I really do love you.” Yeonjun’s words suddenly grab your attention again. “I’ve never meant that towards anyone but you.” You’re silent as the weight of his words settles in. 

“Please say something.” He begs. You release a sigh. “I don’t think you know what you’re saying, Yeonjun. I just- Why me? Of all the people in the world who would jump at the opportunity to be with you, you love me? I’ve shown you time and time again that I’m not worth it.” You’re clenching so hard that, you can feel the sting on your nails pinching your skin. “How could you even say that?” He sounds shocked, almost angry at you. “Y/n you’re the most admirable person I’ve ever known.” Yeonjun’s words hit you like a truck. “I’ve seen you spend the unnecessary extra time and care for the littlest of details on every project we’ve done. You pour your heart and soul into your work, your friends, anything you love!” He points out. “When something gets in your way, you challenge it and give it your all. You have so much passion for everything in life that you will always fight. I want to be able to do that myself. Being with you gives me the courage to.”

“I love you Y/n, all of you. Even the sides you feel aren’t worth my while.” You sit on your bed, tears dripping down your face as you silently cry. God, why was he still so nice, after all the crap you put him through the last 24 hours? Even before that honestly. “Goddamnit.” You suddenly laugh, wiping your tears. “Huh?” Yeonjun is dumbfounded. “I think I’ve loved you even before I could understand what love really is.” You say with a tearful smile. Yeonjun finally laughs, the both of you chuckling through the line. “I’m sorry for what I did. I should have just waited. I know you’d never hurt me intentionally. My insecurities got the best of me.” You admit with a sigh. “I forgive you. Your reaction is understandable. I mean, I wasn’t the best guy before I met you.” Yeonjun says sheepishly. You laugh it off.

“I should probably let you know that I did write a note for you, but Beomgyu thought it was trash and he threw it out,” Yeonjun explains, and you laugh again. You can already imagine the other man stumbling upon a note and nonchalantly tossing it in the trash can. “Yeonjun,” You hum. “Yeah?” He asks. “I want to see you.” You say. You can hear him smile through the phone. “Well not to be a stalker but I’ve kinda been parked outside your apartment for the last 10 minutes because if you didn’t answer that last call I was gonna try and knock on your door.” He confesses, you feign a gasp of shock as you quickly run out of your room. You’re surprised to see your friends have already arrived and are patiently waiting for you in the living room. 

You give them a quick wave before slipping into your Crocs and dashing out the front door. “Your Plan B-“ “Your Cheesy Gordita Crunch!” Jay’s shout overpowers Sunghoon’s, but you don’t even turn around though as you hang up your call to run into the arms of your man. Your lips crash onto Yeonjun and the two of you reunite. He pulls you in as if he’s starving for you. When you two finally pull apart, you’re both breathless. “Yeonjun I-“ “I love you. I’ll say it again and again, no matter how many times it takes for me to convince you that you’re worth it. I love you Y/n.” He grins. You cup his face and kiss him once more. “I love you too, so much I go crazy for you.” You giggle, letting him pepper your face with kisses. “Come on.” You tug him back towards your apartment. “Want some Taco Bell?” Yeonjun scoffs at you. “Who do you think I am?” You roll your eyes playfully. “Well, I hope you’re my boyfriend.” You joke. “Oh please,” He chortles. “Baby girl, in my mind we’re already married with kids.”

Bonus:

Code cyan is for when a pet is injured/dead, Heeseung was thinking of code chartreuse which is used for breakups in the gc

Jay didn't actually ditch his mom, but he did have to cut their mother-son brunch date short

Jake fled church so fast, that his pastor thought Layla was a human being

he got pulled over for going 50 in a 25 zone he was STRESSED

lol I've decided yujin is dating lee youngji heehee

had to humble Y/n this chapter she a lil dumb but its okay we still love her!!

one more chapter before hubba hubba ends!! ahh!! 🙈🙈

previous | next

hubba hubba! masterlist

taglist (open): @justandloyal2961 @hoonatic @emosakumas @ancnymcnzjy @gomdoleemyson @yamsinthetaso @2ynjns

[astracora]

The Cat Curse - MC Edition - Chapter 3

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Some hurt/lots of comfort, semi-canon compliant heart condition, spoilers for current story release (Small mentions of Sylus bond up to 102 and all of Sylus' currently released content), small references to the other boys stories.

Word Count: 4603

Written: 26th December 2024

Notes: New relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs (this time with group chat), with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me.

Now Playing: Snuff, by Slipknot

Masterlist

<- Previous

Sylus is learning new things about you.

One, you know far more about flowers than he expected. When asked, you'd told him a friend you'd had since college was 'big into the whole language of flowers thing'.

You'd listened to her talk about it for a long time, picked somethings up, and kept a decent knowledge of it for her. "I was never really good at learning at school, but if I want to know something, I retain way more information than I probably need to." You'd huffed a laugh, shrugging your shoulders like it didn't matter.

Like he didn't watch you constantly learn in order to support and understand those you care for.

Art history to keep up with the fish. Pouring over physics books for the prince. Cardiology books in the kitchen worn and earmarked for the doctor. You'd sit and asked him questions about business and his day to day, as well. He's sure there's books by your bed to help you understand him, part of him is curious. The other part wants to let you piecing him together be a constant surprise.

Two, you and the twins cannot be left alone. Not ever.

He's used to the twins causing chaos wherever he goes, they are full of mischief on their best days. Frankly, he's grown too numb to their antics. Though there are the occasional moments when they surprise him.

Handcuffs, a gun that shoots hearts, and you glaring at him with an unimpressed look.

He'd thanked them, internally, for that particular one. Amusement chasing his heart around for weeks afterwards. Until you'd done something else to amuse, and the cycle continued.

He's glad that your album is being filled out again, so many moments that warm his chest. To have a physical manifestation is tickling. An odd sensation he has no memory of ever having before meeting you.

Sylus does however, wish the three of you would stop vanishing everytime he takes his eyes off you for a moment.

Of all the feline traits he enjoys out of you, your ability to vanish into thin air is not one of them. He regrets not taking your hand, keeping you chained to him, even without the evol link. He'd once sent you a photo, asking if you could spot a cat in his base... this game feels harder, and he finds himself irritable that you are here... together. Surrounded by all manner of flowers, that you can rattle off information about, or lean in, close your pretty eyes and inhale, and he is wandering it alone.

Trying to find a flash of white fur, or hear your voice, a song for him. Or at this point, even spot the twins and their ridiculous crow hoodies. A gift from you for when they need to be outside the N109 zone.

"It's more lowkey, and you'll still be wearing house colours."

He's had to forcibly remove them from the two just to wash them. Lest the smell corrupt his entire base.

It's the poison gardens where he finally finds you, Luke and Kieran are daring each other to eat something, belladonna he learns, and he grabs them both by the scruff to pull them away as he advances on you.

Yet he pauses, as he watches you. Crouched in front of the datura flowers, ears drooping, tail in the dirt, staring at them with eyes that look on the verge of tears.

"You two, don't eat anything." He hisses softly to the twins, who mock salute him before racing off again.

There's a feeling around you like he's looking at stained glass. Tragic and hurting, but beautiful all the same. Perhaps more so. He remembers dreams, and yearnings and all the things he wished he'd had time to say. Or do. He has all the time in the world now, he thinks, and he still wishes he could go back to offer you more than he did.

"Kitten." It's soft, so that when he crouches with you, he doesn't startle your heart. You blink up at him and your eyes are glassy and far away, "What's wrong?"

You reach a hand out to the flower, and he grabs it to pull it back, entwining your fingers. You finally focus back on him, head tilted and trying to clear the daze in your eyes. "I..." eyes darting back to the flowers, "got the strangest feeling."

There's a lump in his throat that he can't get rid of. His mind is playing memories that aren't real memories. A wishful dream shared. So he sits, pulling you over. You're aware enough to remember this is a public place, glancing about and settling into his arms when you realise you're alone. "What about?"

Your fingers twitch against his, and he can see your urge to touch them. It's not like that dream though. Here these flowers can hurt you. "A field of flowers in the mountains..." Your brow creases a little, staring at them with pinned ears and narrowed eyes, like they're holding answers you can't grasp with your hands, "They mean devotion." You finally settle on, looking at him, as your tail wraps around his wrist.

Sylus' chuckle escapes him, through the dull edges of sorrow, and through the sharp stab of relief. He finds your frustration endearing to be sure, yet it's the words said to him with glistening eyes, like he doesn't already know that.

So deep in every bone in his body that if there ever comes a day he forgets those flowers, and your lips on his, even if it was nothing but a daydream, he thinks he'll be truly mad. He only hopes if that day comes, you'll tell him about the flowers again.

You don't remember how his heart changed when you told him those flower suited him. So dangerous, and so beautiful, that you still want to touch them even now. He thinks the sickness he has, a troubled heart that beats for you and a soul that cannot quiet when you are near, is probably his greatest joy in this world.

He feels drawn like a moth to a flame. The man that he is, no horns, no wings and no tail, who cannot relinquish his treasure no matter the cost. For as long as you love and want him, he will seek you out anywhere.

Your eyes dart down to his mouth, hesitating, then up again. He leans towards you, but you are overcome. Holding him, kissing him, purring into his mouth. It is a taste unlike any other, and as he falls back, holding you tight as you kiss and devour and satisfy your hunger, he sees the datura's dancing next to him.

----

You're milling around the gift shop, Luke and Kieran following after with a basket. Though their version of following, you realise, is getting lost in aisles, and yelling at you from across the shop. You've seen some old ladies giving them dirty looks, which while you understand, you do return. Even if you do ask them to be a little quieter.

Which they... kind of take on board. Changing to loud whispers. You do have to remove a few things from the basket, three different types of plant pots you don't really need, five cacti, "They look like boss!", and almost an entire shops worth of fudge.

"Hunter! Can we try that?"

Luke is waving some chilli flavoured honey in your face, and though you can't quite fight the way your nose crunches up at the idea, you put it in the basket.

You wish you could blame the cat curse for your inability to handle a degree of spice, but that's just all you. Even if your tongue is way more sensitive right now.

"Grab a local honey from the counter, the others will want some."

Kieran nods and darts off, while you and Luke browse the chocolate selection.

It's a very serious choice. "Which will Zayne like most?"

Luke gives you a look that says you're a fool for asking, "He'll eat them all too quickly for anyone to see those arty wrappers." You both look at each other and nod, "Except for the carrot one."

So you pick up ones with the prettiest packaging so Raffy can have them for inspiration afterwards, and move onto the seed section. Almost getting barrelled into as Kieran returns with the spoils of war, a too large jar of honey that you're sure won't last long between the lot of you.

The seeds are easy, Xavi will enjoy growing almost anything, but you want to get ones for all of them. It's impossible to buy the datura's you still can't stop thinking about, so as you put cala lilies, forget-me-nots and jasmines in the basket. Along with some snowdrops, daisies and lobelia seeds, you ponder over Sylus. Every flower that comes to mind is as beautiful as it is deadly, and as much as you think he'd appreciate those, he wouldn't appreciate the risk to your health for it.

You think about his hand clasping yours in front of the datura, pulling you back despite the deep pit of yearning in your heart to bury yourself amongst the bright red flowers.

Like you belonged there with them. Like they wouldn't hurt you.

Your hand hovers over the poppy seeds, remembrance for the dead, before you pull away and shake the feeling off. Your tail puffing up and then settling as you try to fight the ghost of a feeling.

"Hunter, what about these, they're cute!" Luke waves a pack of bellflowers at you. You blink at the disruption to your thoughts, and look over at him and Kieran. Matching bird hoods pulled back so they can watch you. You tell yourself it's not pity in their eyes, just concern.

You have to stop thinking the worst.

"Bellflowers..." You dig through your memories but the meaning won't come to you.

Luke turns the packet around and looks at the back, "Says, 'unwavering heart.'" He pulls a face but shoves the packet at you.

"Sounds like boss, unkillable." Kieran adds, nodding to himself.

The words don't sit right with you but you decide not to think about it, and instead take the packet from them, they're not wrong. He certainly is unwavering, so you put them in the basket, and grab some gomphrena.

As you walk away with the twins, your feet stop. Turning back around, you grab the poppy seeds.

Caleb deserves flowers too.

-------

Sylus had been forced to stand outside the shop, if you hadn't, you think he would have bought the shop with how long you and the twins were looking  through everything. Plus, you'd wanted to surprise him for once. He expected everything, had a plan for everything, was impossible to sneak up on. Even with all your training, you'd never got the upper hand with the man.

You'd even tried teaming up with Xavi, much to Sy's amusement. He'd hefted you up, catching you easily, and had kissed his affection to both of your heads before heading off to a meeting. Laughing to himself as he went.

Xavier had looked at you with a new commitment in his eyes, you both would get the crow.

Today wouldn't be any different, you know that. Staring at his figure leaning against the wall as you leave the shop. Twins in tow, who are shoving their fingers in honey they didn't even wait to leave the shop to start on. You made a note to get them a dentist appointment... you're pretty sure they've never been.

Sylus is the picture of untouchable beauty, just like the datura. His eyes don't dart around but you know he's clocking everything around him. Ready if he needs to be, tracking escape routes if necessary. You're sure you've never seen him truly relax anywhere but at home. Even then it took a while before he moved the gun from under the pillow to the side cabinet.

You shush the twins, fangs gleaming, and they nod, hanging back as you pull your tail close and press your ears back against your head. Creeping forward, closer, closer, almost-

"Are you done kitten?"

He doesn't even turn to look at you, but his voice is soft with laughter, and you droop a little. "Do you have ears in your back?"

"Just very good ears on my head, beloved. I can tell your footsteps from anywhere." He reaches behind him to take the bag from your metal hand, and then takes your other one in his. Running his thumb over the skin. "So I can always know where you are." Is pressed into the side of your head with a kiss, and you nuzzle him, then pull away as the twins clear their throats.

"Want some honey, boss?"

Sylus screws up his nose as they offer it to him with sticky hands. "How old are you two?"

"Never too old for honey."

He rubs the space between his eyes and decides not to fight that battle, or explain his question. "What did you get, besides a sugar crash for the twins?"

You hesitate for a moment, he's looking at you and not at the bag. Asking permission to peek, wanting you to set or rescind boundaries at will.

You lean into his side as the four of you begin to walk, and nod, "Gifts." He looks down into it, "Seeds... so we can grow them together." His fingers twitch against yours in your grasp, and his eyes lighten and burn as he looks at your offerings.

"And." You pull his hand, hesitating, he stops and turns, and you take a box out of your pocket, almost stuffing it into his chest with how you hand it over. He places the bag down gently, so he doesn't have to release your hand, and opens it. Nestled amongst some craft paper is a hand woven bracelet with a white cat charm. "For you." Your fangs dig into your bottom lip, you taste the nerves and the blood and part of your brain begs you to pull out of his grasp.

Run away.

It was such a silly purchase. He can buy anything why would he-

He's kissing you, warmth on your lips, and hand holding the bracelet against your neck, the grip on your hand is tight and firm. Like he never plans to release you. Not now, not ever. It grounds your nerves, chases away the anxiety, the traitorous voice.

He tastes sweet, and for a dull moment you wonder if he did take the twins honey, before your brain empties, and you let him pull you into the abyss with him.

His smile is still against your lips when you come up for air, but he doesn't pull away, and when you blink your eyes open, he's a burning pyre of beautiful red eyes and shock of white messy hair. He licks his lips, looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. Eyes slightly wet.

"Beautiful." You exhale, prosthetic hand tracing his cheek where he flushes softly.

"Thank you." Sylus speaks, and for a moment you wonder if he will cry, but he simply kisses you once more, sighing into your mouth, and tasting your own.

--------

Work can't seem to wait, as much as he wants to leave it be, he's stuck responding to messages and reading legalese. Sylus leaves you, Luke and Kieran in the living room. You're playing a video game together, and arguing over how to solve a puzzle. He heads to the kitchen with a glass of gin fizz, glasses on, and gets to work.

He thinks he manages about three hours of no interruptions, which is a record where the twins are concerned. He took one break to call the doctor to pick up some ingredients for dinner, and then resumed his work. It's boring and he has to do it. Onychinus, as much as a chore as it can be, is important to him. While he'd love to live a quiet life with you, simple and relaxed, until every threat biting at your heels is gone... he doesn't have the luxury of laying down his weapons.

Ears pricking up, he can feel you. Stepping as quietly as you can up behind him. He wants to laugh but swallows it down, wanting to see what you do and what your goal is. You always grumble when he catches you, and you never seem happy when he informs you that he just simply would always listen out for you.

How could he not hear his own heart after all?

A tail smacks him in the nose, and his tablet is knocked out of his hand. You laugh, gleeful and satisfied, going to rush out of the room.

Unluckily for you, he is faster. EVOL wrapping around you and pulling you into his lap, as you wriggle and laugh. Tail swishing. Your pupils have almost swallowed your iris'.

"Nooo!" You groan, "How are you that fast?"

"Good reflexes, honed from years of practice." He teases, nipping your nose, amused when you nip back. He watches your pupils and your tail. Watches the way you look like you're vibrating, unable to sit still in his lap. "Now why is my troublesome kitten trying to break my work tools?"

The tablet is unharmed, caught in mist, and placed on the side.

Still, it's not like you to go out of your way to break things. Though, looking at your tail, he realises he forgot cats enjoy chaos.

"Bored! You've been in here too long." You nip again, butt your head against him gently. Hand in a fist gently hitting his shoulder. You look up at him where your head is now pressed to his collarbone, shrinking in on yourself to get as much heat from his body as you can, "I feel... odd."

"Odd?"

He watches the question spin in your head, as you worry at your lip with your teeth, he catches your lip before the fangs can draw blood.

"Like I want to run."

"Ah." He points at your eyes, then your tail which has not settled since he's been watching you, and then the twitching in your hand. "Someone has zoomies."

"Excuse me?"

"Zoomies, kitten. Surely you've seen cats before."

You huff, hissing a little, "I've not lived under a rock, Sylus."

He lets out a chuckle and taps your nose, "You need stimulation. I thought your game would work."

Your cheeks heat up, he can feel the change against his skin, and you bite his finger, "I got bored."

"Oh?"

"You weren't around."

His hand tightens on your waist, nose running along your cheek, taking long inhales of your scent like you're a flower in the desert. "I'm sure I can find something for us to do." Your tail stills, and you blink up at him. "Let's entertain my little kitten."

------

"I didn't think you meant the park..."

"Expecting something else?"

You'd be lying if you said no. Sylus was a walking innuendo more often than he wasn't. He was very openly flirty, he said things that made Zayne and Raffy blush often. You're sure only Xavier could be more overt. Still, a park.

You have headphones in, to help manage the noise, and your hand is firmly in Sylus'. Normally you don't leave the house without your prosthetic on, but you don't want the straps on your skin right now, and there's nothing pressing that requires you to need it. The twins are kicking a football next to you, you're not actually sure where it came from.

"They didn't steal that right?" You whisper to Sylus.

"I bought it for them after you showed them that movie, and they wanted to try to? Bend it?"

The unsure look on his face is something special and you fight the urge to laugh at him, successfully, though you're sure he can read it on you because his face softens.

"Hunter, can you play?"

"Caleb showed me a while back, I wasn't very good."

"Not enjoying sports, kitten? How surprising."

You elbow him, snorting, "I can fight just fine, I don't need to be a sportsman."

Still, that feeling in your limbs is still there. Like you're vibrating, on edge, ready. It's almost like adrenaline but it doesn't seem to settle. Like you want to run, and run, and run.

"Play with us then." Kieran kicks the ball to you, and you try to remember how you're supposed to aim.

You releases Sylus' hand on impulse as you test the ball at your feet, thinking about Caleb who laughed as you kicked either too far or not far enough. Never able to control the strength you put into sports. Tennis had resulted in broken windows, football had resulted in balls over fences, you'd gotten injured trying rugby, too aggressive for hockey, and you'd fallen on your face too many times trying to ski.

He'd always laughed and then eased you through the motions, not lost patience with you, always had a hand out to help you move forwards.

Caught up in your memories, you don't notice the dog running up for the ball until it barks right in your face.

Fur on end, leaping up into the air, and a harsh hiss ripping from you in seconds. It's just a dog. Just a dog. You like dogs... you-

The hiss turns into a growl, and then a yowl, as it gets more aggravated at you for reacting, and your tail is up, bristling and shaking. You can feel yourself trembling, the barking feels like it's in stereo. Surrounding you and sinking into you. Tearing through your eardrums and pulling the ground out under you.

Before Sylus can even get to you, the twins are a wall between you and a rogue dog. Both growling themselves, in a way that makes the dog whine and squeal and back off. Neither touch you, but as the owner comes up, apologising profusely for losing hold of their dog, the twins turn to you and herd you away from the area.

The shivering won't stop, but your tail, still bristled, tucks between your legs. Twitching and seeking. Sylus' hand on the small of your back, makes you jump again for a moment before his scent fills your senses and you slump back towards him. Knowing he'll catch you.

Stupid.

Stupid...

"I've got you. It's alright."

He covers your cat ears, and leads you somewhere quiet.

A wooded area, quiet and removed from park goers. After a little while, you think you can breathe properly again and your fur has settled. He is tracing patterns into your back, giving you a point of focus. "Sorry."

"Nothing to apologise for."

"It's stupid."

"You're cursed, kitten. I hardly think being scared by a dog is something stupid. People are scared of them without being cats."

"Hunter!"

"Hunter."

The twins pop up, they have steaming paper cups in hand, shoving one at you. You grab it quickly before burns are added to your problems. The smell of coffee floats up to you, familiar.

"We got hot chocolate, tea and coffee."

"We guessed you'd want coffee but options are good."

Sylus' chuckle moves through you from where he's holding you, taking a hot chocolate for himself.

You wipe at your eyes, and sip the coffee, the heat easing you from the inside out. It takes you to mornings where a coffee is brought to you in bed, eased out of the land of nightmares with soft touches and warm kisses. If you were a more touchy person, you would hug the twins. You're not sure if they'd even want you to, and it's not a conversation for today.

As Sylus sips, and you ease into his side, watching the twins argue over which the other will drink, you offer your thank yous to them all softly. Only to receive unbothered shrugs from the twins, and a nod from Sylus. As though it is not a problem, as though helping you is second nature. As though you shouldn't expect anything else.

It is as you finally feel the world slot back into place, tail curling around Sylus, that he blinks, looking at the twins, and asks, "Where did you get the money for these?"

The twins jump, look at each other, then at you both, as they go to speak, you hear a yelled, "Oi! You two! You didn't pay!"

You get to watch Sylus furrow his brow, sigh like a long suffering parent, and take his card to the stall owner with a pointed look at the twins.

"Thanks boss!"

"Thanks boss."

-------

He's watching you sleep, talking nonsense as your ears twitch. Your hand twitches against his arm as he lies on his stomach next to you, face turned to you. Arm thrown over your waist and your leg thrown over his, foot hooked to keep one of his legs between yours. Trying to keep as much contact as you can with him. Tail around his ankle.

You swap roles often. The guard and the guarded, both too on edge often. When someone else joins your sleep, sometimes you both lie awake and protect. The prince has dragged you both to bed often, seeing the wear around your eyes.

Tonight, he lies and stares at you. Not a guard dog, simply admiring. From the view of the bed, he can see the balcony planter. Full now, of treasures he cannot wait to see bloom to life. You move, rubbing your cheek against the pillow, and wiggle closer. Seeking the heat of him, pressing yourself so close he thinks you're trying to fuse with him.

He sometimes wonders if your split soul is seeking his out to be whole again. If it misses part of the noisy thing that lives in his chest. Changing him willingly. He isn't sure he would ever want to hand it back. It is at home inside of him, just as you are at home in his arms. Just as part of him burns in your chest, even if you can't hear it as loudly as he can.

Sylus knows it is there, and he hopes it reminds you every day that he adores you. That his love is eternal, that he will want you beyond the death of stars.

He changes positions so that he can pull you into his arms, fit you against him, and rest your head against his chest. So you can hear it. His heart and yours thrumming. Dancing and singing for each other. Hoping the sound of your joining will keep you safe in sleep, away from the nightmares that haunt you.

As he takes your hand in his, splaying your fingers over his stomach, he feels the familiar gold sparks of your resonance. Weak and small, hindered by your curse, but there. He thrills, assured and comforted by you seeking him out in every way you can. That even in sleep you seek connection to him. That your power yearns to touch his.

He has gone from seeing hatred in your eyes, to holding you against his chest, kissing your tears away, and protecting you in moments you let yourself be a cared for.

It is not the first time he has fought for a prize. Has hunted and struggled for a treasure. It is, however, the most valuable reward he has ever earned.

And everyday he lives, he is joyed to continue to keep you. Right here, where he can love you.

[rika-mortis]

Made a silly alternate version for the previous comic

[anewp0tat0]

i lied i had like atleast one more weston thought to expell from my brain, before i miss this boat entirely. we're heading to green lands woooo

[deltapelagicpetrel]

kim kittysuragi. If you even care.

[surreal-duck]

some business to take care of

[stars-etc]

Guess who’s rewatching fantasy high!!!! It’s meeeeeeee

I forgot how fun they all were freshman year I just love them all so much

[tabooiart]

nastyyy boy (affectionate)

[kirisclangen]

Larchpaw

She/her, 8 moons, cis molly

[nereb-and-dungalef]

I keep drinking coffee thinking it's gonna make me Productive and then instead of doing the work I actually have to do I just compulsively make spreadsheets :(

[vaguely-concerned]

I was just ambushed within the turbulent halls of my own mind by some headcanons about rye ingellvar's childhood that did 15000000 points of psychic damage to me and my heart personally and also made me almost sure of how I want to play it all at the end (very very differently from how I imagined going in!). some 'oh holy fuck this changes everything' rocking my own world bullshit going on in my neurons right now I'm reeling