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pinkmoontaco · 2 days ago

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It all started with a song || Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Producer-Idol Jihoon x Producer-Solo Idol Reader

Genre: Fluff, Idol romance

Summary: Jihoon, the reserved genius of SEVENTEEN, unexpectedly finds himself drawn to Y/N, a rising junior idol from HYBE, after collaborating on a duet. What starts as a professional partnership blossom into a heartfelt romance, captured in their respective songs

Author's note: This is my first time writing a story, and I truly appreciate you giving it a chance. Please forgive me if there are any mistakes—I’m still learning and growing as a writer. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and support my work. It means the world to me, and I hope you enjoy the journey I’ve created.

Jihoon was preparing to release his solo album, which included a heartfelt duet about two lovers. After finishing his own parts, his next challenge was to find the perfect female lead for the song. With Bumzu’s help, he sifted through several demos of the female section.

After an exhaustive search, one demo finally stood out to him—it was exactly what he was looking for. When Bumzu visited him the next day, he asked, “Did any of the lyrics catch your attention?”

Jihoon nodded and showed him the demo.

“Oh, so you liked Y/N’s lyrics,” Bumzu said with a knowing smile. That’s when Jihoon learned that the lyrics had been written by Y/N, a junior solo idol from HYBE.

“You’ve never met her, have you?” Bumzu asked.

Jihoon shook his head. It was no surprise—everyone knew Jihoon wasn’t one to socialize much.

“I’ll bring her to the studio tomorrow,” Bumzu said confidently before heading out, leaving Jihoon to ponder the upcoming meeting.

The next day, Jihoon arrived at the studio earlier than usual, his mind a mix of anticipation and curiosity. He wasn’t sure what to expect. He knew Y/N by name, but meeting her in person would be different.

As he set up his equipment, the door swung open, and Bumzu walked in with a bright grin. Behind him was Y/N, her presence soft yet commanding. She wore a simple outfit, but her confidence and aura made it clear why she was a rising star.

“Jihoon, meet Y/N,” Bumzu introduced.

Jihoon stood, his usual calm demeanor masking his nerves. “Hi,” he greeted simply, bowing slightly.

“Hi! It’s so great to finally meet you Sunbae-nim" Y/N said with a warm smile. Her voice was light and melodic, just as he’d imagined. “I’ve heard so much about you and your music.”

“Likewise, but please don't call me sunbae-nim, you can call me by my name,” Jihoon replied, his words brief but sincere.

Bumzu clapped his hands together, breaking the silence. “Alright, let’s get to work! You two have a duet to perfect.”

Jihoon gestured toward the recording booth, silently inviting Y/N to take her place. As they started working through the song, Jihoon found himself impressed—not just by her vocal ability but by her understanding of the emotions behind the lyrics.

They went over the harmonies and phrasing, fine-tuning every detail. By the end of the session, Jihoon was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly everything had gone. Y/N wasn’t just talented; she was professional and insightful, bringing a depth to the song that exceeded his expectations.

“You’re really good,” Jihoon said as they wrapped up, his tone earnest.

Y/N beamed. “Thank you! Your composition is amazing—it makes it easy to connect with the song.”

For the first time in a while, Jihoon felt a genuine sense of excitement about the project. Maybe working with others wasn’t so bad after all.

After their first session, Jihoon couldn’t stop thinking about how seamlessly Y/N had brought the song to life. It was rare for him to feel this level of connection with another artist, especially so quickly.

The next day, Bumzu texted Jihoon. "How was it working with Y/N? She said she had a great time."

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before typing back. "She’s talented. The song’s coming together well."

Bumzu responded with a teasing emoji. "That’s high praise from you! Maybe you should tell her that in person."

Jihoon frowned slightly but didn’t reply. Compliments weren’t exactly his strong suit.

Their second studio session was scheduled later that week. Y/N arrived on time, as cheerful and prepared as before. Jihoon noticed how her energy seemed to brighten the room, even when she was just warming up.

“Good morning!” she greeted with a bright smile.

Jihoon nodded. “Morning. Ready to dive in?”

“Always,” she said confidently.

As they worked through the song again, Jihoon found himself more at ease. Y/N’s suggestions were thoughtful, and she wasn’t afraid to ask questions or offer input, which he appreciated. Somewhere in between harmonizing and tweaking lines, they started to find a rhythm—not just in the music, but in their conversations.

During a short break, Y/N leaned back in her chair. “You know, Jihoon, this is one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever worked on. It feels so raw and real.”

Jihoon glanced at her, caught off guard by her sincerity. “Thanks. That means a lot,” he said quietly.

“Is it based on a personal experience?” she asked cautiously, as if afraid to overstep.

He hesitated for a moment before replying. “Kind of. It’s… inspired by the idea of love. Not necessarily mine, though.”

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. “I get it. Sometimes it’s easier to write about emotions from a distance.”

Jihoon nodded, appreciating her understanding. Their conversation drifted to other topics—music, inspirations, and even random stories about life as idols. For someone he’d only met recently, Y/N was surprisingly easy to talk to.

By the end of the session, the song was nearly complete. As they packed up, Y/N turned to Jihoon.

“I think this duet is going to be really special,” she said. “Thank you for letting me be part of it.”

Jihoon looked at her, feeling a rare warmth in her words. “You brought the song to life. I should be thanking you.”

Her eyes lit up at his unexpected praise. “Well, I guess we make a pretty good team,” she said with a grin.

Jihoon allowed himself a small smile. “Yeah, we do.”

As Y/N left the studio that day, Jihoon couldn’t help but think that meeting her had been one of the best things to happen during this project.

In the weeks that followed, Jihoon and Y/N spent more time together polishing their duet. Each session seemed to bring them closer, not just as collaborators but as individuals. Y/N’s infectious laughter and unfiltered enthusiasm often pulled Jihoon out of his shell, while Jihoon’s quiet determination and thoughtful approach inspired Y/N to push herself even further.

One day, as they wrapped up the final recording, Bumzu entered the studio with a wide grin. “So, how does it feel to be done?”

Y/N clapped her hands together excitedly. “It feels amazing! I can’t wait for people to hear it.”

Jihoon nodded in agreement, his usual stoicism giving way to a subtle but genuine smile. “It’s better than I imagined.”

Bumzu raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Wow, Jihoon actually giving compliments? I need to write this down.”

Y/N laughed. “He’s not that bad. He’s just… selective with his words.”

Jihoon shot her a mock glare, but there was no malice behind it. Instead, he found himself smiling along with her—a rare occurrence that didn’t go unnoticed by Bumzu.

As they packed up, Bumzu pulled Jihoon aside. “You know, you’ve changed a bit since working with her,” he said casually.

Jihoon frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you seem… lighter. Happier, even,” Bumzu said with a knowing grin. “It’s a good look on you.”

Jihoon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he glanced over at Y/N, who was chatting animatedly with a staff member. There was something about her—something that made him feel less burdened, more open to the world around him.

The song’s release day arrived, and the response was overwhelming. Fans praised the emotional depth of the duet, calling it one of Jihoon’s best works yet. Many were also captivated by the chemistry between Jihoon and Y/N, evident not just in their vocals but in the behind-the-scenes clips shared online.

As they stood backstage during a live performance, Y/N turned to Jihoon. “Are you nervous?” she asked, noticing his unusually quiet demeanor.

“A little,” he admitted. “Not about the song, though. I just hope people feel what we tried to convey.”

Y/N placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “They will. This song has so much heart in it. You’ve poured yourself into it, and I’ve never been prouder to be part of something.”

Her words struck a chord with Jihoon. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel alone in his creative journey. “Thank you,” he said softly.

When they stepped on stage and began to sing, Jihoon realized something unexpected. The song, which he’d once viewed as merely a project, had become something far more personal. And in that moment, as their voices blended and the audience’s applause filled the air, Jihoon understood just how much Y/N had changed his perspective—not just on music, but on life itself.

After the performance, Y/N grinned at him. “See? We nailed it.”

Jihoon met her gaze, his expression warm. “We really did.”

And as they walked off stage together, Jihoon couldn’t help but think that this was only the beginning of a story far greater than either of them had anticipated.

In the days following the song's release, the hype only grew. The other members of SEVENTEEN were quick to congratulate Jihoon. Mingyu, with his ever-present energy, was the first to bring it up during one of their group practice sessions.

“Hyung! That duet is insane! Everyone’s talking about you and Y/N,” Mingyu said, clapping him on the back.

Joshua added with a smile, “Yeah, the fans are loving the chemistry. You two sounded amazing together.”

Jihoon felt a rare flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks. “Thanks, guys. It was a lot of work, but she made it easier.”

“Oh-ho!” Seungkwan chimed in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hyung admitting someone made his life easier? This must be a first!”

The room erupted into laughter. Even Jeonghan, who always had a teasing comment up his sleeve, smirked. “So when do we get to meet this famous Y/N?”

Before Jihoon could respond, the studio door creaked open and in walked Bumzu—with Y/N beside him. The sudden appearance of their guest caught everyone’s attention.

“Speak of the devil!” Vernon said, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N waved nervously, a bit overwhelmed by being surrounded by the full force of SEVENTEEN. “Hi, everyone. It’s nice to finally meet all of you.”

Dino bounded over with enthusiasm. “You’re the one with that amazing voice! Your part in the song gave me chills.”

“Thanks!” Y/N said, her smile growing as she relaxed.

Hoshi, never one to miss a moment, stepped forward and grinned. “Are you ready to dance with us too? Because in SEVENTEEN, we don’t just sing—we dance.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide a small smirk. “Don’t scare her off, Hoshi.”

Y/N laughed, feeling at ease now. “I’d love to try sometime, but I don’t think I could keep up with you guys. I’m more of a singer than a dancer.”

Jun nudged Jihoon playfully. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s found a great collaborator.”

Over the next hour, SEVENTEEN welcomed Y/N into their world, joking and sharing stories. The room was filled with laughter, the group’s usual dynamic enriched by a new presence. Jihoon found himself observing the way Y/N blended in so effortlessly, as if she’d been part of their chaotic family all along.

As the evening went on, Minghao approached Jihoon with a knowing smile. “You look happy,” he said simply.

Jihoon glanced at Y/N, who was now in an animated conversation with DK and Woozi, sharing anecdotes about their vocal warm-ups. A small, content smile played on his lips. “I guess I am.”

A few weeks later, SEVENTEEN was preparing for a group livestream, and Y/N was invited to join as a surprise guest. Jihoon wasn’t thrilled about the idea at first—he preferred to keep things professional—but the rest of the members were insistent.

“Come on, Jihoon,” Seungkwan pleaded. “The fans already love you two together. This will be fun!”

“It’s a great way to promote the song even more,” Mingyu added. “Plus, we want to see how she handles being in one of our chaotic lives.”

Reluctantly, Jihoon agreed, and Y/N arrived at the dorm just as the livestream was about to begin.

“Is this what it’s like before you go live?” Y/N asked, watching the members scramble to adjust cameras, lights, and snacks.

“Always,” Jeonghan said with a smirk. “It’s controlled chaos.”

As the livestream began, fans flooded the chat with comments. The members introduced Y/N, and the reaction was overwhelmingly positive.

“Y/N’s here! OMG!”

“She and Jihoon look so good together!”

“The duet is my favorite song right now!”

Jihoon, who was reading the comments on his phone, shifted uncomfortably but managed a small smile. “The fans seem happy,” he said quietly to Y/N.

“They’re so sweet,” Y/N replied, her eyes scanning the messages.

The members took turns asking her questions, each one more playful than the last.

“Hoshi,” Y/N said, laughing, “why are you asking if I’d join the Performance Team? I just told you I’m not much of a dancer!”

“Because we can teach you,” Hoshi replied with a dramatic flourish.

DK chimed in, “Or you can join the Vocal Team! We need more people who can hit those high notes.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Minghao said. “You’re a solo artist. Stay in your lane before they rope you into our madness.”

The banter continued until Seungkwan leaned into the camera and asked the question everyone wanted to know.

“So, Y/N, how’s it working with Jihoon?”

The chat exploded with reactions.

Y/N glanced at Jihoon, who was clearly caught off guard but tried to mask it. She smiled. “Honestly? It’s been amazing. He’s a perfectionist, but in the best way. I’ve learned so much from him.”

Jihoon cleared his throat, his ears tinged pink. “She’s talented, so it wasn’t hard to work with her,” he said simply, earning exaggerated “oohs” from the members.

As the livestream continued, Y/N fit right in with SEVENTEEN’s dynamic, laughing and joking with them like she’d known them for years. Fans in the chat began calling her an “honorary 14th member,” a title that made her laugh but also secretly warmed Jihoon’s heart.

After the livestream ended, the members sprawled across the couch, tired but happy.

“You handled that like a pro,” Mingyu said, tossing a cushion at Y/N.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, catching the cushion. “You guys are a lot of fun. I can see why your fans love you so much.”

As the group began to disperse, Jihoon found himself alone with Y/N for the first time that evening.

“You were great today,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

“Thanks. I was a little nervous, but you all made it easy,” Y/N said, leaning against the back of the couch. “Your members are like family, huh?”

Jihoon nodded. “They are. It’s chaotic, but it’s… home.”

Y/N smiled. “I can tell. You’re lucky to have that.”

There was a comfortable silence between them before Y/N added, “And thanks for letting me be part of all this. I didn’t expect to be welcomed so warmly.”

Jihoon met her gaze, his usual stoicism softening. “You’re part of it now. Whether you like it or not.”

Her laughter filled the room, light and genuine. “I think I like it.”

And for the first time in a long while, Jihoon felt like the walls he’d built around himself were no longer as important.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N continued to bond with SEVENTEEN. She found herself invited to more studio sessions, group meals, and even impromptu dance practices. Despite her initial hesitation about being in the spotlight alongside such a well-known group, their warmth made her feel at home.

Jihoon, on the other hand, started noticing the subtle ways Y/N was changing the dynamic around him. She wasn’t just a collaborator anymore; she was becoming a friend. Someone who could pull him out of his creative tunnel and remind him to enjoy the little moments.

One day, after a long recording session, the group decided to hang out at their dorm. Y/N hesitated when Seungkwan invited her along.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” she said.

“You? Intruding?” Seungkwan scoffed. “You’re practically one of us now. Come on!”

When they arrived at the dorm, chaos quickly ensued. Mingyu was in the kitchen, trying to cook something “special,” while Hoshi and Dino argued over which choreography to show Y/N.

Jihoon sat on the couch, quietly observing the scene. Y/N was laughing with Jeonghan, who was undoubtedly up to some mischief. He couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“You like her, don’t you?” Minghao’s voice pulled Jihoon from his thoughts.

Jihoon turned to him, his expression unreadable. “What are you talking about?”

Minghao smirked. “You’re not as subtle as you think. The way you look at her—it’s different.”

Jihoon sighed, leaning back against the couch. “She’s… easy to be around. That’s all.”

“Sure,” Minghao said, clearly unconvinced. “Just don’t wait too long to figure it out.”

Later that evening, as everyone settled in for a movie, Jihoon found himself sitting next to Y/N. The room was dimly lit, and the sound of laughter and popcorn crunching filled the air.

Y/N leaned closer to whisper, “Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys. I didn’t expect this when we started working on the song.”

Jihoon glanced at her, the soft glow of the TV reflecting in her eyes. “You’re not just here because of the song anymore. They like you. I… like having you around.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his admission, a soft smile forming on her lips. “I like being around you too, Jihoon.”

For a moment, the noise of the room faded, and it was just the two of them, sitting closer than either realized.

“Jihoon! Pass the popcorn!” DK’s voice broke the moment, and Jihoon blinked, quickly grabbing the bowl to hand over.

Y/N chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. The warmth between them lingered, unspoken but undeniable.

As the weeks turned into months, their bond deepened. Whether it was through shared late-night studio sessions, casual dinners with the group, or quiet moments away from the chaos, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves drawn closer together.

And while neither of them said it out loud, they both knew that what had started as a simple duet had grown into something far more meaningful.

As time passed, Jihoon and Y/N’s bond became increasingly apparent to everyone around them. The other members of SEVENTEEN had a field day teasing Jihoon about it, though they were careful not to push him too far. Y/N, on the other hand, took it all in stride, her easygoing nature making her a natural fit within the group’s chaotic but loving dynamic.

One day, they found themselves in the studio late at night, working on a new song. The other members had already gone home, leaving just the two of them.

Y/N leaned over the desk, scrolling through the playlist Jihoon had prepared for inspiration. “This one’s good,” she said, pointing to a track.

Jihoon nodded, playing it without hesitation. The soft melody filled the room, and they both sat in comfortable silence, letting the music wash over them.

After a while, Y/N broke the quiet. “Do you ever think about what this all means? The music, the fans, everything we do?”

Jihoon looked at her, surprised by the sudden introspection. “All the time,” he admitted. “It’s why I work so hard. I want it to mean something—to leave something behind that matters.”

She smiled softly. “You already do. Your music touches so many people, Jihoon. Including me.”

He felt a warmth spread through him at her words. “What about you? What does it mean to you?”

Y/N took a moment to think before answering. “It’s about connection. Every lyric, every note… it’s a way to reach people, to let them know they’re not alone. I think that’s why I love working with you. You get that.”

For a moment, Jihoon was at a loss for words. Her sincerity, her openness—it was something he wasn’t used to but found himself drawn to.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “I don’t say this often, but… you’ve changed the way I look at things. Working with you—it’s made me realize how much more music can be when it’s shared.”

She looked at him, her eyes shining with gratitude. “You don’t know how much that means to me, coming from you.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the room. But before either of them could say more, Jihoon’s phone buzzed, breaking the moment.

The next morning, as they arrived at the practice room, the other members were already there. Hoshi immediately noticed the way Jihoon and Y/N seemed closer than usual.

“Did something happen last night?” he asked, his eyes darting between the two.

“Nothing happened,” Jihoon replied quickly, his ears turning pink.

Y/N, however, laughed. “We were just working on music. Don’t let your imagination run wild.”

The members didn’t buy it, but they let it go—for now.

Later that week, the group had a fan meeting, and Y/N was invited as a special guest to perform their duet live for the first time since its release. The fans erupted into cheers as Jihoon and Y/N took the stage together, their voices blending seamlessly as they sang.

During the performance, Jihoon couldn’t help but glance at Y/N, her presence radiating warmth and confidence. He realized that what had started as a professional partnership had grown into something far more personal.

After the performance, as they stood backstage, Y/N turned to Jihoon, her eyes sparkling. “That was incredible. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before replying. “Thank you… for everything.”

Y/N smiled, her hand lightly brushing his arm. And in that moment, Jihoon knew that whatever this was between them—friendship, partnership, or something more—he wasn’t ready to let it go.

A few days after their fan meeting, the duet performance went viral. Clips of Jihoon and Y/N on stage, their undeniable chemistry and harmonies, flooded social media. Fans couldn’t stop talking about how perfectly their voices blended and how natural their interactions seemed.

The buzz didn’t go unnoticed by SEVENTEEN.

“Have you seen the comments?” Seungkwan said, shoving his phone in front of Jihoon’s face during a break in practice.

Jihoon glanced at the screen, where fans had flooded the comments section with messages like:

“They’re perfect together!”

“Jihoon and Y/N need to release a whole album together!”

“Am I the only one who feels like there’s more to their story?”

Jihoon sighed, pushing the phone away. “It’s just the fans. They like to speculate.”

“But they’re not wrong,” Mingyu chimed in with a sly grin.

“Not you too,” Jihoon groaned.

That evening, Y/N visited the dorm for what was supposed to be a casual hangout. As usual, the members couldn’t help but stir the pot.

“So, Y/N,” Jeonghan started, leaning casually against the couch, “what’s it like being the most shipped person with Jihoon right now?”

Y/N nearly choked on her drink. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Hoshi said, joining in. “The fans are calling you the ‘power duo.’ Some are even saying you’re a better fit than us!”

“Don’t listen to them,” Jihoon muttered, his ears turning pink.

Y/N, recovering from her initial shock, laughed. “Well, I guess it’s a compliment? I mean, Jihoon is an incredible artist, so I’m honored.”

The room erupted in exaggerated “oohs,” with Seungkwan dramatically fanning Jihoon. “Did you hear that? She called you incredible!”

Jihoon buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Why do I even let you all talk?”

Despite the teasing, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at Y/N’s words. She always had a way of making him feel seen—not just as an artist but as a person.

Later that night, after everyone had settled down, Y/N and Jihoon found themselves alone on the dorm balcony, overlooking the city lights.

“It’s been a wild night, huh?” Y/N said, leaning against the railing.

Jihoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the skyline. “Yeah. I didn’t expect any of this when we started working together.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. “But I’m glad it happened. I’ve learned so much—not just about music but about myself.”

Jihoon glanced at her, his expression softening. “You’ve changed a lot of things for me, too. I didn’t realize how much I needed someone to remind me why I love what I do.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in his voice. “Jihoon… I—”

Before she could finish, the balcony door slid open, and Mingyu stuck his head out. “Hey, are you two having a moment? Because we’ve got snacks inside.”

Y/N burst out laughing, while Jihoon groaned. “You have the worst timing, Mingyu.”

Mingyu grinned. “That’s what I’m here for.”

As the night went on, the teasing and camaraderie continued, but something had shifted between Jihoon and Y/N. Though unspoken, there was an understanding growing between them—one that neither was ready to confront just yet but couldn’t deny any longer.

And as Jihoon watched Y/N laughing with his members, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something he’d been searching for without even realizing it.

The weeks passed, and Jihoon found himself unable to shake the feeling that had been slowly growing inside him. Every time Y/N smiled, every time their eyes met during a quiet moment, something in his chest fluttered. He had always been someone who let his music speak for him, but this time, it wasn’t enough just to express himself through lyrics. He needed to tell her, to be vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been with anyone before.

But how?

It was during a late-night studio session, after everyone else had left for the day, that Jihoon decided to do something about it. He had spent hours working on the song, tweaking the melody, perfecting the lyrics, and now it was ready.

The track wasn’t like anything he had made before. It was softer, more personal, and every note seemed to come straight from his heart. He had poured his feelings into it, capturing the emotions that he couldn’t say out loud. It was a love song. And the subject of it? None other than Y/N.

The next day, Jihoon invited Y/N to the studio under the guise of working on new material. She arrived, always eager to help or collaborate, but there was something different about Jihoon’s demeanor that caught her attention.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she walked into the studio. “You’ve been acting a little… off lately.”

Jihoon avoided her gaze, fiddling with the soundboard for a moment. “I… I have something I want to play for you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, curious. “A new song?”

He nodded, his throat tightening slightly. “Yeah. But it’s… different.”

Y/N walked over to him and sat down, her eyes fixed on him. “I’m all ears, Jihoon.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment longer before hitting play. The soft, melodic intro filled the room, and Y/N was immediately drawn into the haunting beauty of the song. As the lyrics began, she felt a stirring in her chest. The song felt… personal. Deeply personal.

She listened intently, her heart racing as the chorus hit, and Jihoon’s voice filled the space:

“I didn’t know how to say it, but now I know it’s true, Every moment with you feels like I’ve found something new. In the silence, in the music, in the things I never said, I’m falling for you, I’m falling for you, And I can’t take it back.”

The song went on, each lyric pulling Y/N deeper into the emotions Jihoon had poured into it. By the end, the room was thick with the unspoken words hanging in the air. The music faded, and for a few moments, there was silence.

Y/N slowly turned to look at Jihoon, her eyes wide with realization. “Jihoon… that song…”

He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s for you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She had known there was something between them, something that had grown over time, but hearing him express it so clearly, through music, felt like a confession she hadn’t expected.

“Jihoon…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He finally met her gaze, his eyes vulnerable in a way she had never seen before. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, trying to tell myself I was just… overthinking. But every time you’re near, every time you smile, it feels like something more. I think… I think I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. And I couldn’t hide it anymore. Not after writing this song for you.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she processed his words, her own emotions swirling within her. She had felt it too—the connection, the way everything felt more meaningful when they were together. But hearing him say it out loud made it all so real.

She took a step closer, her voice soft but steady. “I’ve been feeling the same way, Jihoon.”

His eyes widened, and he took a step toward her as well. “Really?”

She nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve been too afraid to admit it, but… I’ve been falling for you, too. Maybe I didn’t want to admit it because I didn’t know if you felt the same, but… I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The tension that had built between them in the past few months suddenly lifted. Jihoon, overcome with relief and happiness, took her hand gently.

“Then… do you think we can figure this out together?” he asked softly.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling. “I’d like that very much.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything else. The weight of the confession hung in the air, but the silence felt comfortable, like a shared understanding.

Jihoon squeezed her hand gently. “I don’t know what comes next, but I want to find out with you.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining. “Me too.”

And as they stood there, hand in hand, Jihoon knew that this song, the one that had started as a way to express his feelings, was just the beginning of a new chapter for them both.

For a few weeks, Jihoon and Y/N managed to keep their budding relationship under wraps. They weren’t intentionally hiding it, but neither of them was ready to face the whirlwind of teasing that would inevitably come from SEVENTEEN.

However, secrets rarely lasted long in a group as close-knit and nosy as SEVENTEEN.

It all started during a practice session. Jihoon had left his phone on the bench while the group worked through choreography, and a text from Y/N popped up on the screen:

Y/N: Can’t wait to see you tonight ❤️

Seungkwan, ever the observant one, noticed the notification first. “Oh? Hyung, care to explain this?” he asked, holding up the phone with a mischievous grin.

Jihoon froze mid-step, his face instantly turning crimson. “Give me that!” he snapped, rushing over to grab the phone.

But it was too late. Seungkwan had already shared the discovery with Hoshi and Jeonghan, who were now looking at Jihoon with matching expressions of glee.

“‘Can’t wait to see you tonight?’” Jeonghan teased, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “Jihoon, do you have plans we should know about?”

The rest of the group quickly caught on, gathering around as Jihoon struggled to come up with an excuse.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Nothing?” Hoshi said, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like something to me.”

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” Mingyu blurted out. The room went silent for a moment as everyone processed the possibility.

Jihoon sighed, realizing there was no escape. “Fine. Yes. It’s Y/N. We’re… dating.”

The room erupted into chaos.

“What?!” Seungkwan exclaimed, looking both shocked and delighted. “When did this happen?”

“Jihoon, you sly fox!” Jeonghan said, clapping him on the back.

“You’re dating Y/N, and you didn’t tell us?” Dino pouted. “I thought we were close!”

Jihoon groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, okay? It’s still new, and we didn’t want any unnecessary attention.”

Joshua, ever the voice of reason, stepped in. “Guys, let’s not overwhelm him. It’s Jihoon, after all. This must’ve taken a lot for him to admit.”

“Yeah,” DK added, grinning. “But seriously, Hyung, we’re happy for you. Y/N’s great.”

“She’s not just great,” Minghao said thoughtfully. “She fits in with us, and most importantly, she brings out a side of you we don’t see often. It’s nice.”

Jihoon looked around at his members, their teasing replaced with genuine support, and felt a wave of relief. “Thanks, guys. Just… keep it low-key, okay? We’re not ready for everyone to know yet.”

The group collectively agreed, though Jihoon wasn’t sure he trusted their definition of “low-key.”

That evening, Jihoon met Y/N at their usual spot in the studio. She could tell something was different as soon as he walked in.

“What happened?” she asked, tilting her head.

“They know,” Jihoon said, sitting beside her.

“Who knows?”

“SEVENTEEN,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh no. How bad was it?”

Jihoon chuckled despite himself. “About as chaotic as you’d expect. But… they’re happy for us. They promised to keep it a secret, though I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

Y/N smiled, reaching over to take his hand. “Well, I guess it was bound to happen. They’re your family, Jihoon. And honestly, I don’t mind if they know. I like being part of your world.”

Jihoon squeezed her hand, his heart swelling at her words. “You’re more than just part of it, Y/N. You’ve made it better.”

The next day, when Y/N visited the dorm for dinner, the teasing resumed, but it was all in good fun.

“So, Y/N,” Jeonghan said with a sly smile, “what’s it like dating our Jihoon? Is he as romantic as he is in his songs?”

Y/N laughed, glancing at Jihoon, who looked like he wanted to disappear. “He’s perfect,” she said simply, her sincerity making Jihoon’s face flush even more.

The room erupted into cheers and playful jabs, but beneath the chaos, there was a palpable warmth. SEVENTEEN was more than a group—they were a family. And now, Y/N was part of that family, too.

As the night wore on, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel grateful. For his members, for their unwavering support, and most of all, for Y/N, who had somehow become the piece he hadn’t realized was missing from his life.

A few weeks after SEVENTEEN’s comeback promotions wrapped up, Jihoon surprised fans with the announcement of a solo track, titled “Only for You.” The anticipation was palpable, especially after fans connected the dots between the mysterious teasers and Jihoon’s recent duet with Y/N.

When the song finally dropped, it was an instant hit. A tender and emotional ballad, the lyrics told the story of someone realizing they’ve found the one person who completes them. Jihoon’s heartfelt delivery struck a chord with listeners, but eagle-eyed fans noticed something peculiar.

The release coincided with a few subtle interactions between Jihoon and Y/N on social media. Comments like:

“This song feels so personal… is it inspired by someone special?”

“The vibe reminds me of Jihoon and Y/N’s duet. Are we missing something?”

“Wait a second… some of these lyrics feel like they match things Y/N said in interviews!”

The speculation ramped up a notch when, only a few days later, Y/N teased her own solo track, “Echo of You.”

When Y/N’s song dropped, fans were quick to notice that it felt like a reply to Jihoon’s. While Jihoon’s track spoke of falling for someone who brought light into his life, Y/N’s lyrics told the story of being seen and loved for who she truly was.

Lines like:

“I thought I was just a shadow, but your light made me shine.”

“Every melody you wrote felt like a message just for me.”

Fans flooded social media with theories.

“Wait, these songs feel connected. Are they… about each other?”

“Woozi's ‘Only for You’ and Y/N’s ‘Echo of You’ are like two sides of the same love story.”

“If this is real, I’ll cry. They’re perfect together!”

The speculation reached its peak when a fan-made mashup of the two songs went viral, seamlessly blending the tracks into a duet that felt like it was meant to be.

Back at SEVENTEEN’s dorm, the members couldn’t help but join the buzz.

“So,” Seungkwan started, holding up his phone, “the fans are catching on.”

Jihoon groaned, slumping onto the couch. “I knew this would happen.”

“I mean, they’re not wrong,” Jeonghan said, smirking. “The songs do sound like they’re talking to each other.”

Y/N, who had been invited over for dinner, sat beside Jihoon, trying (and failing) to suppress her laughter. “It’s kind of impressive how quickly they picked up on it.”

Joshua leaned forward, grinning. “Are you two going to say anything? Or just let the fans go wild with their theories?”

Jihoon glanced at Y/N, his expression thoughtful. “What do you think?” he asked her.

Y/N smiled softly. “I don’t mind letting them wonder for now. I like that the songs are just ours, even if people are curious.”

The members all groaned in mock frustration.

“You’re both too private for your own good,” Mingyu teased. “Just admit it already and save us the headache!”

“Admit what?” Jihoon shot back, feigning innocence.

“That you two are the main characters in the greatest musical love story ever told,” Hoshi declared dramatically, earning laughter from the group.

Despite the teasing, Jihoon and Y/N decided to keep quiet, letting their music speak for them. The buzz around their songs only grew, with both tracks climbing the charts and becoming fan favorites.

During a live Q&A, Jihoon was inevitably asked about the inspiration for “Only for You.”

“It’s about someone who changed the way I see the world,” he said simply, his expression soft.

When Y/N was asked a similar question about “Echo of You,” she smiled knowingly. “It’s a song about gratitude and love—for someone who helped me realize my worth.”

The fans didn’t need anything more. To them, the connection between the songs—and their creators—was obvious.

One evening, as they sat together in Jihoon’s studio, Y/N turned to him with a playful smile. “So, do you think they’ve figured it out yet?”

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head. “I think they know. They’re just waiting for us to say it out loud.”

“And when do you think we should?” she asked, tilting her head.

Jihoon thought for a moment before replying, his voice warm. “Maybe someday. But for now, I like that the songs tell our story. It feels… special.”

Y/N leaned closer, her hand resting on his. “I like that too.”

The weeks following the dual song releases were a whirlwind. Both tracks dominated the charts, and the fan theories only grew more elaborate. Mashups, fan edits, and endless analysis filled the internet, with fans piecing together subtle interactions and shared moments.

Despite their best efforts to stay under the radar, the buzz became too loud to ignore. SEVENTEEN’s members didn’t make it any easier, constantly dropping playful hints during interviews and live streams.

One day, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves at a joint event where multiple HYBE artists were present. It was a casual, live-streamed Q&A session, and the energy in the room was lively. Fans flooded the chat with questions about collaborations, their music, and, of course, the connection between Jihoon’s and Y/N’s songs.

The host, clearly aware of the buzz, decided to address the elephant in the room.

“So, Woozi-shi and Y/N-shi,” they began, a mischievous glint in their eye. “The fans have been talking nonstop about how your songs seem… connected. Care to comment?”

Jihoon, caught off guard, glanced at Y/N. She met his gaze with a small, encouraging smile, her eyes silently asking, Are you ready?

He hesitated for a moment before leaning into the mic. “Well,” he started, his voice calm but tinged with nervousness, “the fans aren’t wrong. The songs are connected.”

The room fell silent for a moment, everyone—including the other artists—hanging on his every word.

Y/N chimed in, her tone light but honest. “We didn’t plan for it to be a big mystery. We just wrote from our hearts. And, well… our hearts were in the same place.”

The host’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, are you saying—”

Jihoon nodded, cutting them off gently. “Y/N and I… we’re together. And the songs were our way of telling that story without saying it outright.”

The room erupted into applause, cheers, and a few playful whistles from SEVENTEEN and the other HYBE artists. The fans watching the live stream went wild, the chat filling with messages like:

“I KNEW IT!”

“This is the best plot twist ever!”

“Our musical power couple!”

Later that evening, Jihoon and Y/N sat together backstage, scrolling through the flood of messages on social media.

“Looks like the fans are taking it well,” Y/N said, laughing as she read a particularly enthusiastic comment.

Jihoon smiled, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in weeks. “I guess I shouldn’t have worried so much. They seem… happy for us.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder. “Of course they are. We’ve been honest in the best way we know how—through our music.”

Jihoon wrapped an arm around her, his voice soft. “I’m glad we finally said it. It feels good not to hide anymore.”

She looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Me too.”

As the weeks passed, their relationship became a beloved story among fans. Jihoon and Y/N didn’t share much beyond their music and occasional glimpses of their dynamic, but their authenticity resonated with everyone.

Their next collaboration—a duet explicitly written as a continuation of their story—became one of the most anticipated releases of the year, cementing their status as not just two incredible artists but as a couple who had found love in the heart of their shared passion.

And as Jihoon often said in interviews, with a small, knowing smile: “It all started with a song.”

The announcement of Jihoon and Y/N’s relationship didn’t just excite fans; it gave SEVENTEEN endless new material to tease their usually reserved member. And, of course, they weren’t going to let the opportunity go to waste during their next content shoot.

The group was filming an episode of their popular variety show, “GOING SEVENTEEN,” and the theme for the day was a mock courtroom trial where members had to defend themselves against outrageous (and often ridiculous) accusations.

As the camera rolled, Jeonghan smirked, ready to unleash chaos. “Today, I bring a serious accusation against Jihoon,” he began, standing dramatically as the self-appointed prosecutor.

Jihoon, sitting at the “defendant’s” table, raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

Jeonghan held up an imaginary piece of paper, squinting at it for effect. “Jihoon, you’ve been accused of… secretly writing love songs instead of working on group projects. How do you plead?”

The room erupted in laughter, with Seungkwan clapping his hands. “Guilty! We all know it’s true!”

Jihoon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes!” Hoshi chimed in, his grin practically splitting his face. “We’ve all noticed you humming random melodies lately. Are those for us, or… someone else?”

The teasing didn’t stop there. As the trial continued, the members took turns “presenting evidence.”

Mingyu dramatically placed a notebook on the table. “Exhibit A: Jihoon’s lyric book. Do we need to open it to find the word ‘Y/N’ written a hundred times?”

Dino jumped in, mimicking an investigator. “Exhibit B: The way Jihoon smiles at his phone during breaks. Suspicious behavior if you ask me.”

Even the usually quiet Wonwoo joined in. “Exhibit C: The recent duet with Y/N. We all heard it. It’s basically a confession set to music.”

By this point, Jihoon’s face was a deep shade of red, though he couldn’t help but chuckle.

During a break in filming, Joshua leaned over to Jihoon. “You know, they’re only teasing because they’re happy for you, right?”

“I know,” Jihoon replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But they’re relentless.”

“Hey, it’s good content,” Joshua said with a wink. “The fans will love it.”

Later in the shoot, the tables turned when it was Jihoon’s chance to act as the judge. He banged the gavel dramatically. “I have an accusation of my own,” he announced, his tone firm but playful.

The members gasped in mock horror.

“I accuse SEVENTEEN of being the nosiest group in the industry,” Jihoon declared, pointing at them one by one. “Always prying, always teasing. How do you plead?”

“Guilty!” Seungkwan shouted, raising his hands in surrender. “But we do it out of love!”

Hoshi stood up, grinning. “Your Honor, I’d like to counter-accuse. Jihoon is guilty of smiling more these days. We all know the reason why.”

The room burst into laughter once again, and Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head, a reluctant smile on his face.

As the shoot wrapped up, the director praised the group for their energy and humor. The episode, once edited, was full of golden moments that had fans laughing and cooing over SEVENTEEN’s antics.

And while Jihoon might have been the butt of the jokes, the camaraderie and genuine affection from his members shone through.

In the comments section of the uploaded episode, fans were quick to notice the playful dynamic:

“SEVENTEEN teasing Jihoon about Y/N is peak family energy!”

“Jihoon trying to act annoyed but secretly loving it is so cute.”

“The way they all support him in their own chaotic way makes me emotional.”

That evening, as Jihoon returned to his studio, his phone buzzed with a message from Y/N:

Y/N: Saw the episode preview. They’re so obvious, lol.

Jihoon smiled, typing back:

Jihoon: They’re impossible. But at least they’re on our side.

Y/N: Always. And so am I.

As he leaned back in his chair, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for Y/N, but for the family he’d found in SEVENTEEN.

Even if they never let him live it down.

90 notes · View notes

paige1722 · 1 day ago

Text

So Much For A Safe House-END

Summary: You go on a mission with 141 and end up taking shelter in an abandoned building. The place is haunted, and you are all trapped inside; creepy things are happening. (Ghost of War-inspired)

Warnings: scares, violence, weapons, monsters, first-aid stuff, lots of gore

Chapter 1: Shelter Chapter 2: Hunter's Moon Chapter 3: Pinnacle to the Pit

Ah, I can't believe this is the final part. I hope you all like it! Also, since it took me so long to finish this part, there's a small bonus at the end.

Chapter 4: See the Light

Deciding that you should all move back into the living room before anything else happens, you pack up the first aid kit and grab the discarded weapons, tactical vests, and flashlights to move them back into the living room next to the fireplace and sleep bags to be dealt with later. Heading back into the kitchen for what feels like the 100th time that night, you go to help Price carry Gaz.

Price was holding Gaz up on one side, supporting all of his body weight, waiting for your return. Moving to the other side, you place an arm around his back, allowing him to put his arm over your shoulders, effectively distributing the body weight between all of you and allowing Gaz to walk somewhat easier. Ghost was in a similar position with Soap, who could not put any pressure on his now broken ankle, hopping out of the room using Ghost as a crunch, they make their way into the living room. You, Price, and Gaz are following closely behind.

The fire was still going; however, it had dwindled a bit. Walking slowly to accommodate Gaz, you and Price set him down, helping him settle in, and the sleeping bags were set up in front of the fire. Soap is sitting on his sleeping bag, his injured ankle propped up on a makeshift cushion of a pillow and blanket, pulling out his small diary, which he always carries with him, and begins writing. Having caught a glimpse of his notebook before you figure he is probably adding notes about what has been happening here and some sketches.

Price and Ghost are busy tending to the fire, talking in hushed voices, you can barely make out bits and pieces of their conversation, something about our chances not looking good with two injured. Not wanting to stress yourself out by eavesdropping on their conversation, you busy yourself with finding a new shirt for Gaz to wear. Rummaging through the bags, you managed to find a black long-sleeve thermal shirt that belonged to either Ghost or Price judging by the size, but you figured they wouldn’t mind letting Gaz borrow it for the time being. Walking over to where Gaz was lying, staring at the ceiling, a far-off look on his face. You sit criss-cross beside him, gently taping his shoulder to gain his attention, “here, I found you a shirt.”

He turns his head to you, a small smile on his face at the gesture, “Thanks, Spark.” Reaching to grab the shirt, he pauses, “I think you will have to help me get dressed.”

Giggling, you help him slowly sit up, bunching up the shirt; you pull it over his head and slowly pull his arms one at a time through each sleeve. Once both of his arms are in the shirt, you pull it the rest of the way down to cover his stomach, being mindful of his injuries. He leans back on his elbows, careful not to pull any of his stitches, and closes his eyes before slowly sliding back down in his sleeping bag.

Static breaks the silence, causing you to jump at the sudden noise breaking the silence that had shrouded the room. The crackling coming from the long-forgotten radio gains the attention of everyone in the room. Price and Ghost are no longer talking, Gaz's head is turned towards the radio, and Soap has stopped writing in his notebook; everyone’s holding their breath, hoping that maybe it is just Laswell and that you are all about to be rescued.

“.....re……it……fire…d..”

You can barely make out the word fire from the static, causing you to instinctively glance towards the fire still burning bright. Price grabs the radio, hitting a few of the buttons, his forehead creasing in concentration. “It’s not even turned on…” You hear him mutter under his breath.

A voice from the radio cuts Price off. “It doesn’t like fire.”

Static still echoed from the radio but more quietly once the message had been spoken.

“Keep the bloody fire going then; I’ll burn this whole place to the ground if it comes to it,” exclaimed Gaz, pointing at the fireplace.

Even though the fire was still burning and did not seem as if it would be dying any time soon, Ghost still placed more of the broken chair pieces into the heart of the fire. He looks at the few remaining pieces of the chair. You realize there are not enough pieces left of the chair to keep the fire going for the remainder of the night.

You stand to your feet, announcing, “I’ll go back in the dining room and grab a couple more of the chairs for us to use.”

Receiving a nod in return, you quickly jog out of the room and back into the dining room. Moving quickly, you grab two of the small wooden chairs that were strewn around the room. Not wanting to be alone for any longer than you have to be once you have a good hold on both chairs, you go back into the living room, where it sounds like an argument was taking place in your absence.

Soap throws his hands up in the arm, his accent thick. “How do we know that it doesn’t like fire? Is that even true? What if it is just trying to trick us, we already know whatever the fuck it is can mimic voices!” His heavy breathing was all that could be heard as everyone thought about his words.

While listening to Soap’s exclamation, you placed the two chairs with the other pieces of wood, giving you a grunt of appreciation. Ghost then starts to break the chairs into more manageable pieces for the fire, creating a pile of wooden stakes.

Sitting back down next to Gaz and thinking about what Soap had said, you thought about the voice; it sounded vaguely familiar. Furrowing your eyebrows, trying to think of where you heard it before you realize it was the same voice from the beginning of the night that said, ‘It is here now.’ Now that you have time to comprehend things a little more clearly, maybe the voice wasn’t the cause of the terror, but perhaps it was actually trying to warn you about the wendigo. Still sitting next to Gaz, you turn and look at him. Making eye contact, he gives a concerned look, like he can see that you have thought of something, and he gives you a subtle nod.

Taking a deep breath, you share your thoughts, “I don’t think the voice we have been hearing on the radio is the wendigo or some sort of trick. I mean, it kind of seems like whatever it is has been warning us. Like it warned us when the creature first arrived.”

You glance around the room at everyone’s faces before continuing, “The writing in the room was probably meant to scare us from any more exploration, but that obviously didn’t work, and now, since two of us are injured and we are trapped here until the storm is over, now it tells us a way to properly defend ourselves against the wendigo.”

Once you finish, you shyly begin rubbing your shoulders, scared that others will not agree with your thoughts. Having said that, everyone seems to be in deep thought over the new information presented.

Soap gains your attention by clearing his throat, “Perhaps we should check the notebook you found again, Spark. Maybe if the voice was actually warning us, then something in the notebook could help, too.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the rest of the team send you both a questioning look. Price mouths ‘notebook?’ to Ghost, who just shrugs his shoulders in return.

Nodding your head, reaching into your pocket, and retrieving the once-forgotten small red notebook, Gaz peering up to see what you’re looking at. You run your hands over the raised leather of the strange symbol on the cover. Signing, you wished that you knew what the strange symbol meant since it was the same symbol that was on the key to the cellar door.

Flipping to the first page, but just like last time, you are unable to understand the scribbling on the pages; it is almost like it was written in a different language. The only things you are able to make out are the same phrases about not letting it in and someone needing help.

Realizing that the notebook is not going to be of any help if you can’t read it properly, you grow frustrated and scared with the entire situation you have all found yourselves in, and you throw the book across the room in anger.

“I’m sorry, guys, I can’t read any of this. But the pictures are for certain drawings of the wendigo, so if I knew all the words written in there, then it would be more of a help. All I can make out are the few phrases not in that weird language.” you say, pulling your knees up to your chest, resting your head on your knees, trying to seek some comfort within yourself. Gaz slowly reaches up and puts a comforting hand on your back, giving you a sympathetic pat.

The small notebook hit the wall next to the fireplace and landed next to Ghost, who had still been tending to the fire every so often. Eyeing the notebook suspiciously, he picks it up, flips it open to the middle, and lets out a small grunt.

“Of course, you can’t read it, Spark. Most of it is in Latin.”

Your head shoots up, and your gaze lands on Ghost in surprise, “Latin! What the fuck? I thought that was a dead language.”

Still looking through the notebook, Ghost replies, “Technically, but they still teach it in schools.”

Price moves over next to Ghost, looking over his shoulder, “Well, does that mean you can read it then?”

He grunts in return, “I am not an expert or anything, but I think I can probably figure out the gist of things.”

Ghost then spends the next few moments going through the notebook, trying to determine if there is any useful information in it, while the rest of you wait with bated breath for him to share his findings.

After what feels like hours, Ghost sits up straight, pointing to one of the pages in the book, looking around at everyone, “According to the notebook, the wendigo is mainly active at night, but it will still come out during the day if it knows there's prey around. It cannot be killed by regular means. So, no bullets or anything; it heals too fast. Apparently, the only way to actually kill it is by burning it with fire, like that voice said. It also mentions they have a hard time seeing still prey.”

Taking in the new information, Price slaps his hands on his thighs, “Well, now we know a way to protect ourselves: fire and no sudden movements. This new information can help us come up with a plan of attack.”

“Wait, there is something else.” Ghost speaks up, trying to decipher the small text that was written under one of the drawings of the creature feasting on something.

“it says here don't become one of them.”

What!” Soap yells, moving to stand but is stopped by his ankle, grimacing in pain, wrapping one hand around his hurt leg, slowly moving back to his previous sitting position, “What the fuck, does that mean?”

Turning the page, a similar picture can be seen, but instead, it is clearer what it is eating. The drawing is of a corpse being feasted upon by the Wendigo, with small text that could be seen at the bottom of the page.

Pointing at the picture and turning the book around so everyone can see it, Ghost says. “eating the flesh of another.”

A sinking feeling forms in the bottom of your stomach, realizing how desperate someone would have to be for food, starving on the brink of death, feeling as if you have no other choice but to resort to cannibalism, eating someone that was once a friend or family member. Shaking your thoughts away, not wanting to think about that, you refuse to believe that it will even come close to that because in a few more hours, when it is finally daylight, this storm will be over, and you can finally make contact with Head-Quarters and get the hell out of this place once and for all.

As if sensing your dark thoughts, Price speaks up, “Still, like this doesn’t change anything, we will stay here and keep the fire going.” He stands up and grabs one of the legs of the broken chairs from the pile and wraps a piece of torn cloth that was lying on the ground around one end of the stick, “if the wendigo somehow comes in, we will light a few of these on fire and kill the bastard. And once it's daylight and the storm is gone, we can call Laswell and get the hell out of here.”

Gaz leans up the best he can on one elbow, “Yes, Sir. Though honestly, she has probably already worked out where we are, and as soon as the weather clears, we will already have a helicopter ready and waiting.”

Gaz’s optimism rubs off on you as you smile in return to his wishful thinking, though knowing how meticulous Laswell is, he is more than likely correct in his assumption. The atmosphere in the room shifts to more calm at Price and Gaz’s words. Soap and Gaz both move to lie back down, shutting their eyes and finally feeling as if they can relax after their attack and constant worrying. All of the exhaustion catching up to your two teammates, the adrenaline from their near-death experience causing them to become tired quickly, and soft snores leaving them. Smiling slightly, you move Gaz’s blanket to cover him more, quietly grab your weapon, and sit next to the hastily boarded-up window to keep watch just in case.

After a while, your body becomes stiff from sitting for so long, stretching your arms and legs out and hearing the satisfying pop. Glancing out of the window, you see the moon that was once high in the sky is now at the horizon, almost disappearing completely behind the trees of the forest, letting out a sigh of relief that this nightmare is almost a horrible distant memory. Then, all of a sudden, the wendigo jumps down from above, landing right in front of you on the other side of the window. Its breath fogs up the window as it stares down at you. Gasping at the sudden encounter, you jump back, aiming your weapon at the Wendigo. Your sudden outburst and movement catch the attention of Ghost and Price, who grab a piece of burning wood and stand on either side of you in front of the window. The tension in the room was thick; sweat was forming on your brow. Everyone was watching and waiting to see who would make the first move: your team or the creature.

“What’s the bloody thing doing?” you hear one of your teammates ask, you could barely make it out of the sound of your heart pounding in your chest, feeling like you were staring death right in the face. You weren’t sure why, but it felt as if it was smiling at you.

Swallowing nervously, you whisper, “I think it is taunting us like it is trying to wait us out.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the creature lets out a laugh. It was your laugh. The creature was using your own voice to torment you. You all watch as it raises its gnarled, bony finger and taps on the glass, pointing to where your two injured teammates lay blissfully unaware of the impending danger. Its yellow eyes move back, staring directly at you like it can see right into your soul. Its mouth opens once again, using your voice, “Two of us are injured. We are trapped here.”

Feeling as if you can no longer breathe, you drop to your knees, resting one hand on the ground, keeping you from face-planting, your other hand placed on your chest, feeling the rapid beating of your heart and the quick rising and falling of your chest and you struggle to catch your breath. Tears flowed freely from your eyes, the burning in your throat causing you to let out pained gasps for breath. Feeling someone kneeling at your side, pulling you into them, your face pressed against their chest, feeling the slow and deep breaths they were taking, the rumbling of their chest as they speak slowly to you.

“Come on, Spark. That’s it, nice and slow, match my breathing.”

When you are no longer fighting to breathe, and it doesn’t feel like your lungs are about to explode, do you slowly move away from the person holding you. Wiping the tears that were still present on your face away, you look up to see Price’s comforting face beside you, one arm still on your back.

“All better now, Spark?” his voice soft and comforting.

Nodding your head in response, “Yes, Sir. I..I am sorry. It just was using my voice….The Wendigo?!!?” realizing that in the chaos of your panic attack, you forgot all about the reason for it. Quickly looking back to the window, you no longer see the wendigo glowering in the window frame, just the snowy forest.

“It disappeared as soon as you fell on your knees. I think you were right about it wanting to taunt us.” said Ghost

You glance towards Ghost, who is still standing at your side. He was now holding Price’s fire stick from when he handed it off to Ghost to comfort you. Not wanting to burn the whole house down and force you all to take your chances outside, Ghost turns back to place the two burning sticks back into the fire. Patting your back twice, Price motions for you to follow. Grabbing your discarded weapon, you join them, standing in front of the fire. Ghost stands with his arms crossed, waiting for Price to share the next course of action. Price’s hands are holding on to the straps of his tactical vest, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, something you noticed he only does when he is really stressed.

He glances at your two injured teammates and lets out a heavy sigh. “I am going to be honest with both of you; it is not looking good for us. I know that daylight is a mere two hours away at this point, but we have to keep in mind even when the storm is behind us, it is going to be near impossible to get everybody to the evac point if we have this creature to worry about. We will be sitting ducks out there in the open, and I think it knows that.”

Rubbing his temples, trying to come up with a way somehow to carry Soap and Gaz through the thick snow, keep a constant lookout, and make it to the evac point in one piece, looking more and more impossible by the passing seconds.

Ghost, who had remained silent pretty much this whole time, speaks up. “Well, then, we just need to kill the damn thing.” You turned and stared at him like he just grew three heads because if it was that simple, then surely whoever was here before all of you would have done it, especially since they figured out that fire could kill it.

Unsurprisingly, in all the commotion, Soap had woken up; deciding that now would be a good time to share his thoughts, he spoke up, “I think that sorry bastard lives down there in that cellar. That is probably why it went berserk when we went down there in the first place. Maybe if we go down there and catch it by surprise, we can kill it once and for all.”

You finally register that Soap is talking about someone going back down into that thing's hideout and just hoping for the best while they try and light the stupid thing on fire. Looking around at the group, expecting Price, at the very least, to oppose the idea of sending someone to their death, but instead, you see him actively contemplating the idea.

Throwing your hands up in the air in defeat, “Ah fuck it! What’s the plan? How would I even kill the fucker, once I am down there?”

“Well, Spark, I am glad to see you so willing to help, but don’t worry, it won’t be just you going down there. Ghost will be going, too.”

Price grabs his backpack lying on the ground, rummaging around in it until he finds what he is looking for. He pulls out a small can of lighter fluid and tosses it at Ghost, who immediately catches it with ease.

“Always carry that with me after my lighter ran out one time on a mission; I thought I was going through withdrawals without my cigars. It was not a fun time for me.” Price reaches his pocket and pulls out a lighter, sighing and handing it to Ghost as well. “Alright, when you both go down there, find the thing, cover him in lighter fluid, and light that son of a bitch up.”

“Simple but an effective plan, Captain. I hope it works,” you mumble.

“Of course it will. Spark got my two best soldiers on the mission.” “HEY,” Soap yells, ignoring his outburst. Price continues, “While you and Ghost are down there, I will be up here watching after these two, making sure nothing happens, just in case.”

Rolling your shoulders and popping your neck, you and Ghost remove your tactical vests to go down into the pit. Ghost then squats down and uses the materials Price gave to him to create some kind of Molotov-like device. Once complete, he stands back up and places it into a pocket on the side of his pants for safekeeping.

When he sees you staring at the contraption he put together, Ghost just simply grunts in reply, “Guerrilla warfare.”

While you both prepare yourselves for this risky mission, Soap speaks up, “Even though things went to shite down there earlier, I think we managed to learn where it stays, so just go straight out from the ladder when you get down there, keep going for about a click and then you should find it. Good luck, guys.”

Listening to Soap’s advice, you both continue preparing, riding yourself off all the bulky padding of your uniform that might interfere with entering the small opening of the cellar door. Though you make sure to keep your knife and handgun strapped around your thigh, knowing that even if it won’t kill the wendigo, it could still be used to help subdue the creature. You unclip the tactical flashlights off your gun while Ghost grabs one of the hand-made torches from the broken chair. Once everything is secure, you both nod your heads in farewell towards Soap and Price and make your way back into the kitchen towards the creature's hideout.

Entering the kitchen, you walk towards where the key sits on the floor after being thrown around the room in a panic when you were trying to save your teammates from the creature's clutches. Picking up the key, the cold metal feels heavy in your grasp. You walk to where Ghost is waiting for you next to the entrance to the cellar door, kneeling down you slide the key into the lock and pause, a million thoughts racing through your mind: what if once you turn the key and open the door, it is waiting for you and grabs you, what if the creature knows of your plan and is waiting for you and Ghost to go down into the cellar and then he attacks your injured teammates upstairs then goes back down to finish the job, what if-

Ghost's voice breaks through your panicked thoughts, “It is going to be ok. We can do this.” Even though his face is covered by his mask, you see his eyes crinkle, indicating that he is smiling at you and trying to make you feel better about the whole situation.

“Right.” you move the key, hearing the quiet click of it, unlocking the heavy cellar doors. You and Ghost both grab opposite sides of the door and, with a grunt, opening the door and leaving it to rest against the wall once again. Immediately, shining your flashlight down into the pit for any signs of the creature at the bottom. Not seeing anything, Ghost moves to squeeze through the narrow opening, the torch held carefully in one hand as he slowly made his way down. Once he is a few steps down, you follow suit, positioning yourself on the ladder, and slowly make your way through the opening, feeling claustrophobic as you descend into the cold, metallic darkness.

The only thing that can be heard is the sound of the ladder groaning in protest at the added weight of people going down. The closer you got to the bottom, the more it felt like all the heat was leaving your body, the freezing air piercing your body, making all the hair on your body stand on end, putting you even more on edge. Ghost feet hitting the pavement of the cellar echo throughout the darkness; he steps over, giving you room to hop off the ladder. Stepping off the ladder, you remove the flashlight from where you held it in your mouth and unhook the handgun from the holster on your thigh. Holding the gun in front of you with one hand while supporting it with your other hand, holding the flashlight underneath, your arms outstretched in front of you, ready for whatever might be awaiting down here for you.

Ghost was in a similar position; the strange contraption he made earlier could be seen in one of the many pockets on his pants. Silently, he motions for you to follow him, clicking off your flashlight using only the light from the torch as a guide and falling into step behind him. You snap into your mission mindset, not allowing for any other thoughts to distract you. Ghost kept walking straight out from the ladder as per Soap’s instruction. After you had been walking for about five minutes, a horrible smell filled your nostrils, like rotting flesh and blood. He moves the torch a little more forward around to try and find the source of the terrible stench; you see a trail of dried blood stained on the ground. Ghost slowly follows the trial. Gagging, you cover your nose at the sight of a huge pile of rotting animal carcasses, flies, maggots, and other insects swarming over the pile of viscera.

Regaining your senses, you choked down the bile that rose in your throat and kept moving forward with Ghost, hoping to find the source of all this carnage. Amongst the sound of the swarming insects, you hear the sounds of flesh tearing and eating. Ghost jerked his head towards the source of the sound; the Wendigo was hunched over, ripping into the corpse of what used to be an elk. It was holding the creature in the air, using its razor-sharp teeth to tear into the dead animal's flesh, causing blood and who knows what else to go everywhere onto the floor.

Slowly putting his handgun back into the holster on his hip but leaving it unbuttoned for easy access, he reaches into his pocket. Ghost retrieves the Molotov-like device carefully so as not to make any noise while the creature is distracted enjoying his breakfast. Keeping your gun aimed at the creature, Ghost rears his arm back and throws the Molotov. Time seems to move in slow motion as you watch it fly through the air; holding your breath, it hits the creature on its head, causing the can to burst, spewing the liquid all over it and setting fire to its body.

The creature throws the elk corpse and begins screeching in pain, and the flames consume its body. It starts flailing its arms frantically, trying to put out the fire to no avail. Amongst its pain, it catches sight of you moving backward, lunging for you; it grabs ahold of you, knocking the gun and flashlight out of your hands and lifting you into the air. You scream for help. The flames from the creature are spreading, making its way towards you. Your arms are pinned to your sides because of the grasp the creature has on you; you’re unable to move them. Trying to use your legs to kick yourself free but it is no use. It is too strong; feeling the creature begin to use its strength to squeeze you, you let out another antagonizing scream, trying to look for Ghost but being unable to spot him; the only thing you can see is the Wendigo’s burning flesh.

Fearing for the worst, ready to give up, the torch Ghost was carrying is stabbed into the Wendigo’s face right into its eye socket. The wendigo throws you down, screeching, bringing both hands to try and claw out the burning torch embedded in its face. Expecting to land on the hard, cold ground, you brace yourself for the impact only to land in the midst of the pile of rotting flesh, effectively breaking your fall but also covering you in the entrails of the dead animals. You can feel the blood seep into your clothes, sticking to your skin, trying to climb your way out of the pile of gore. A hand emerges from the darkness, pulling you to your feet. “Let’s go now!” Ghost yells at you over the horrible sounds the Wendigo is making. Wiping the blood from your eyes the best you could, you see Ghost pick up your flashlight and gun; you don’t think you have ever been so happy to see him in your life.

You both run back towards the ladder, not wanting to spend any longer down here with the burning Wendigo than needed. Once you reach the ladder, Ghost pushes you to go first; climbing up the ladder as fast as you can was made a little difficult due to the blood covering you from head to toe, causing you to slip every once in a while, though Ghost was there to catch you every step of the way. Finally, you reach the opening, letting out a breath of relief. You squeeze back out of the cellar door, moving to help pull Ghost out, grabbing under his armpit and dragging him out. Once you were both out of the hellhole, you grab the door and slam it shut, locking the door for the final time and falling back onto the floor. Ghost was sprawled out beside you, breathing heavily.

Being back upstairs, you see the sunlight peeking in from outside through the busted windows and cracks in the house; you feel the pain, fear, and anxiety leave your body at the sight you all made it to morning. After catching your breath, Ghost stands up and extends his arm out to help you up, “damn, Spark. You should just probably plan on burning your clothes.”

Looking down at your outfits, covered in blood and god knows what else, you laugh, “yea, I think that is for the best. Thank you for saving me.” you reply, looking back into Ghost eyes that have a fondness in them. Instead of replying, he just jerks his head towards the living room, where the others are waiting.

Slowly trudging back into the room, hearing the others converse quietly amongst themselves, realizing that you can hear Laswell's voices, knowing that means they were able to get into contact with her while you and Ghost were down in the cellar. Once you step into the room, all eyes snap towards your form, and all conversations stop. “Bloody hell, what happened to you!?” exclaimed Gaz, his eyes wide looking at your bloody form.

Shrugging your shoulder, grinning wildly, you reply, “Oh, nothing much. Just killing a fucking Wendigo!”

Gaz and Soap cheer in response while you hear Price chuckling. Walking back to where you left your tactical vest and other gear, you begin to put them back on and where they go amongst your armor, seeing Ghost do the same out of the corner of your eye.

Price, who was holding the radio, shakes it in the air, “Well, I am glad you are both back up here safe. While you were both down there, we were able to get through to Laswell, and Nikolai was on his way to pick us up. The rendezvous point is about half a mile from here, so if we leave now, we will be able to make it in time.”Price is now standing in front of you and Ghost, hands on his hips, staring at you both like a proud dad.

Gaz slowly moves to sit up, his left hand holding onto his stomach where the stitches are, trying to be as careful as possible not to pop any of them. “Thank God! I can’t wait till this is all a horrible nightmare.”

Nodding in agreement, you help Ghost pack up all the equipment quickly, putting the sleeping mats, blankets, and small pillows back in their appropriate bags. Looking around at how quickly you all managed to get everything packed up and ready to go, you think this might honestly be a new personal best for your team. Picking up and handing everyone their prospective weapons, you move to help Gaz walk, but before you can wrap your arms around him, he stops you, “Um...Spark. No offense, but you really stink. I think it would be best if you just let Price help me.”

Price, who had already had one arm wrapped around Gaz’s middle, handed you the radio, “Here, you can be in charge of this and keep watch then until we get back to base and can hose you down.”

Grabbing the radio from Price, you nod your head in agreement, smiling at them both, “Haha, fair enough.”

Ghost has Soap in the fireman’s carry, much to Soap’s dismay; laughing as you make your way to the front door, leading the way for everyone, you call out over your shoulder, “Isn’t he too heavy to hold like that Ghost?”

“No”

You all make your way out of the dilapidated house and out into the forest; looking down into the bright snow on the ground, you pause in your steps, kneeling down and collecting a handful of snow and rubbing it over your face to try and clean some of the blood off. Standing back up, you step over the now blood-red snow. After walking in silence most of the way, you hear the familiar sound of Nikolai’s helicopter blades; stepping into the clearing, you see him waiting, leaning up against the helicopter, smoking a cigarette.

“Finally, I was beginning to think I would have to leave your asses here.” He states, and he pushes himself off the helicopter, walking towards Price, shaking each other's hands while Nikolia claps him on the back in familiarity. Ghost slides Soap off his shoulder and onto the closest seat in the helicopter; Soap's face is pale, and he looks a little motion sickness from the long trek here.

Nikolia walks back up to the front of the helicopter and opens the door, moving into the pilot sea,t waiting for everyone to get situated before taking off. Price helps Gaz step up into a seat, carefully buckling him in the seat and placing a pair of headphones over his ears. Seeing everyone else has found a seat, you grab ahold of the bar to pull yourself inside when a noise from behind you makes you pause; turning around, you glance at your surroundings; not seeing anything, you shrug your shoulders and continue climbing on board. Horrific screeching makes your blood run cold, whipping around, you see the badly burned Wendigo running awkwardly towards you, a terrifying look in its yellow eyes.

Screaming, you fall back onto the floor of the helicopter, everyone yelling different things. Ghost beings shooting at the creature, trying to hit its legs to stop its ascent upon you all, but all it does is cause it to stumble and beings clawing its way forward. Frozen in fear, all you could think about was how close you all were to escaping from the Wendigo, when the front door of the helicopter opened. Nikolai throws a Molotov at the Wendigo, effectively killing it, its burning body collapsing onto the snowy ground, the screeching stopping.

Sitting back in his seat, Nikolai mutters under his breath, “I fucking hate Wendigos, they are such a pain.”

Still in shock at what just happened, everyone silently moves back into their seats, buckles in, and places the headphones over their ears as Ghost shuts the door and Nikolai takes off.

Leaning back in your seat, you look around at all your teammates' faces. You are just glad that everyone is still alive, with just some minor injuries, after everything that you all just went through. Smiling wickedly, you let out a cackle, causing everyone to turn and look at you. “Well, So Much for a Safe House, huh.”

----------

Bonus:

Laswell stands at the front of the hospital room, looking angry and awaiting an explanation from someone, anyone. Soap, you, and Gaz all lay in beds in front of her, listening to the constant beeping of the machines you are all hooked up to. Soap ended up having to have surgery on his ankle to fix the damage done to the bones. He had to have several screws and plates placed in his ankle, which now is wrapped in a cast, propped up on a mountain of pillows. Luckily, Gaz did not have to have any surgery, though they did redo his stitches across his chest, and they properly cleaned his wounds before rewrapping them in gauze. Though they did find out that he did have a minor concussion, which makes you a little nervous since he did take quite a few naps between getting the concussion and now, but the doctors say he will be just fine. It turns out you had gotten pretty injured, too, from your scuffle with the creature in the cellar. Both your arms had suspicious-looking bruises, and your ribs ended up being broken and close to puncturing your lungs. The doctors were shocked that you were even still standing in the state you were in. They fixed the damage the best they could with surgery and now have you under strict rules about moving too much, not that you could anyway, with the amount of bandages they have you wrapped in and machines hooked up to you.

Price and Ghost, although they were not hurt, were still in the room as well, coming to visit you all at least once throughout the day. They were sitting in hospital chairs next to your beds, looking anywhere but Laswell, who now stands with her arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“So, you all mean to tell me. You don’t know what happened to cause three of you to end up in the hospital with varying injuries.”

Price looks at Laswell and leans back in his chair, “You wouldn’t believe us if we told you.”

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auroracalisto · 2 days ago

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day #21: winter proposal

benedict bridgerton x gn!reader, 1k words a/n: listening to christmas music as i write this. hope it shows. or not. idk. <3 also??? does anyone know the terry's oranges you can only get around christmas? i love them. i make a tradition out of buying one every single year. THAT BEING SAID YOU LIKE ORANGES IN THIS FIC. it's self-indulgent. i'd say i'm sorry but i'm not. if you want a pt 2 let me know cuz i could totally do it tw: not entirely historically accurate (yes it's bridgerton) BUT i have a reason. i started writing this and only researched halfway through what the cost of a chocolate would be during the 1810s and little history lesson for you but europe didn't have access to chocolate until it was brought over from central america IN the 1810s, and then it spread all over. it wouldn't have a substaintial processor until like... the 1850s. so um. we're going to pretend for this fics sake that i didn't totally muck it up and chocolate processors were everywhere during this time. thanks spooky pookies

The season of the 'ton has come and gone, leading the socialites to a rather dreary winter. Balls were still held, dinners still attended, but the chill of the air haunted every hall and home.

Unless they were imported or dried, fruits and certain vegetables were hard to come by. The markets were compact with the exception of said dried goods and chocolates from the heart of European society.

One good in particular was one that continued to catch a certain Bridgerton's eye—the little chocolates meticulously crafted to look as if they were made from an orange and even had a hint of orange taste. He didn't truly know how they did it, but he cared little—what he cared about was that he knew you had mentioned liking them some time ago.

He managed to get his hands on a few just the other day.

Despite it being after the proper season, he found himself seeking out your comfort and conversation at any moment he had been given—his mother found it endearing and supported his wants. After all, perhaps there was something to be said in developing a friendship before a marriage. She, herself, had married her best friend once upon a time. She'd like to see that in her children, if they could manage (her sons especially—she knew it would be harder for her daughters to do the same).

So, to get you to the Bridgerton manor without causing some kind of scandal, Benedict convinced his mother and brother, Anthony, to host a dinner for his family and yours.

Your parents agreed in typical fashion, and you were at the Bridgerton's in a matter of days. Dressed warmly, dressed as if you had something to show off for (you did, but you wouldn't confess to that), you entered the front door where Anthony, Benedict, and their mother greeted you and your family. The rest of Violet's children were just behind them, but they smiled mildly as they usually did.

Benedict greeted you with a kiss to your knuckles and a smile on his handsome face.

"It is a pleasure to see you again," he softly said, your name leaving his lips soon after.

"To you as well," you answered, unable to hide your smile.

Violet shared a knowing look with your parents. It was almost as if everyone was just waiting for what they knew would happen. The way the two of you looked at each other was almost frustrating—how could the two of you not just marry when you both clearly adored each other?

Dinner went well. Honey glazed ham, tarts with dried apples and strawberries, breads baked with selective flours and grains. You truly couldn't complain about the spread before you.

At some point or another, Benedict had dragged you to the drawing room, hand in hand.

"I've something to give you," he said, smiling back at you. "I saw it and I knew I had to buy them. I couldn't pass them up."

Your eyes widened a bit. "What? You didn't have to get me a thing, Benedict," you said. "I need for nothing."

"Perhaps," Benedict said, grinning all the while. He let go of your hand and with long strides, he was across the drawing room to where he had kept the box of chocolates for you. He then brought them back, holding the box to you.

You watch him warily for only a moment before you opened the box. Your heart nearly lurched in your throat as you looked up at him.

"These—Benedict, these must have cost you a fortune!"

"Rubbish," he said, watching you with happy eyes. "It truly wasn't much. I would buy even more if I hadn't bought the rest of what they had."

"You did not!" you exclaimed, holding the box tightly. "Oh, Benedict, this is—you are so kind. How can I ever repay you?" you asked, smiling all the while.

He chuckled softly. "Your friendship is enough repayment for me, dear Y/n," he said.

You sat the box down and reached forward, taking his hands in yours. "There must be something I could do for you," you said, eyes sparkling with mirth, and a little something that Benedict could only recognize as adoration. He knew that look well.

He watched you, lips parting as the words died on his lips. "Well, you..."

"Yes?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "It is foolish. I couldn't..."

"Benedict," you softly said. "We are already causing scandal enough just by being here in your drawing room with no chaperone. Truly, whatever you have to say, I want to hear."

He blinked slowly. You were right. Here you were, alone together, with no one to watch over you. To see what was happening. To see if you were doing wrong.

He licked his lips, peering down at you as he found his words.

"I could buy these for you, every winter season, you know," he said, a smile forming on his lips once more. He smiled quite a bit around you. He couldn't help it.

He loved you.

"Oh?" you asked, tilting your head at his words.

"All I'd need from you for repayment is your hand in marriage."

You paused—did you hear him right?

"Perhaps I should have a ring, or ask you during the marriage season, but truly, Y/n, I—"

"—I feel like the chocolates are close enough to a ring," you interrupted him.

He snorted softly. "I beg your pardon?"

"You bought them, for me. You saw them and thought of me. I do believe that warrants a proper proposal, does it not?"

There it was—one of the many reasons he loved and adored you.

He leaned forward and would have kissed you had it not been for the knock at the drawing room door.

In walked Violet, and Benedict quickly looked over, wide eyed.

"I wondered where the two of you were," Violet said, suspiciously watching the two of you. "Well? Did I give you enough time to find an answer, Benedict, or will you marry them due to scandal?"

His eyes widened. Had his mother planned this? He paid no mind, smiling her way.

"I do believe we should plan for a wedding, mother," he said. "And perhaps a proper ring, yes?"

"Yes," you said, your own smile mirroring his. "It would be good to start."

Violet returned the smile. "Good," she said. "Now, come back and join the party. Your father, dear Y/n, has just made a fool of himself with an apple tart."

#christmas #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #violet bridgerton #reader insert #x reader #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #reader #fanfic #bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fic

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enlynstory · 2 days ago

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⟢ No One Noticed

Shipping: non-idol Yang Jungwon x reader

Synopsis: Yang Jungwon, a hopeful and kind young man, unexpectedly becomes the love interest of a girl who’s been struggling with rejecting people.

Warnings: self isolation, fear, betrayal, ex friendships. lmk if there are any more please and thank you :)

Wc: 605

It wasn’t unlike her to shut people out; in fact, it was something she did effortlessly. She wasn’t a people person. The mere idea of showing even a hint of care for someone especially when she felt no tendency to irritated her to her core.

She lived by a motto: "Better alone than surrounded by false connections." It was a belief forged from a painful past, one that had shaped her reluctance to let anyone in.

That was until she met him.

She met someone who shared kindness and cooperation, someone who didn’t care if she tried to push him away, someone who was willing to fight for her. She met Yang Jungwon.

The two had met in a college class. They were paired together for a three-week business project, and it wasn’t like she could turn him down—it was the final project, so she had no choice but to work with him.

He had noticed her before, in class. He always thought she was pretty and seemed kind, but he never had the chance to talk to her.

When the partners were announced by the professor, he waited, hoping her name would be called.

“Yang Jungwon and… Y/N.”

It was a relief to him when it was her, but what he hadn’t expected was that she barely spoke and seemed reserved when he approached her for the first time.

He noticed how she didn’t even look at him. She was silently staring down at the notebook on her desk.

“Y/N, right?”

At the time, he frowned, finding himself thinking about that encounter more than once. It didn’t take long for him to realize she didn’t like people.

One afternoon, the two of them sat in a coffee shop when a family with two loud kids walked in.

“I hate people,” she said.

He laughed at how bluntly she said it, and for once, he saw her smile.

He began to notice how she looked whenever someone tried to talk to her after class—how she seemed to disregard their presence. He saw the fear in her eyes when someone even walked by.

“I don’t like to intrude on people’s lives, but… why are you so afraid of getting to know someone?”

She was taken aback by his question. It was just another project session, the usual Mondays they spent together.

“My past,” she said.

It wasn’t like him to pry, but this time he did. She hesitated for a moment, then spoke.

“My best friend betrayed me after she grew tired of supporting me. She shared my personal struggles with others for attention.” She sighed loudly. “It hurt more than any other pain I had felt before, so I decided to shut everyone out.”

If he had noticed that last project session would be their final one, he would have seen the sadness in her eyes.

She had grown accustomed to him, and it made her feel strange. The simple thought of being around him seemed to lift a weight off her shoulders. But in the end, she knew she had to let him go for her own sake.

The day after they submitted their project, she saw him walk into class. She immediately looked away, knowing their time together was over.

Of course, Jungwon noticed. He always did.

He saw how she immediately looked down at her notebook when he walked up to her.

“You’re not trying to get rid of me now, are you?” he asked with a grin.

It was just like Yang Jungwon to notice, because unlike everyone else, he didn’t want to be the one she pushed away.

[AN]

This is my first story, yayyyy!!!! I’m not sure…how but this was a quick thirty minute write, so if you find any errors please feel free to correct them!! All the help is greatly appreciated!!🫶🏼🫶🏼

Thank you for reading💖

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mayfriend · 17 hours ago

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UPDATE: Mother of five (one newborn) in Gaza without shelter or food! (Vetted)

At the start of November, I made a post about Samira (@samiraaymaan) and her family in Gaza — Samira has had her baby, a little boy, but all the money raised so far had to go towards getting her a caesarean section.

Now Samira is once again without funds to feed her children or herself -- as of today (22nd December 2024), Samira hasn't eaten in three days, and is too weak to breastfeed her newborn -- and the occupation forces are demanding that the starving family must leave where they are currently sheltering due to the ongoing shelling in Nuseirat in order to survive.

Samira and her family urgently need support. Since I posted the last time, we managed to raise 2k for Samira and her family, and got Samira 10% closer to her goal, money which helped save Samira's life and that of her newborn baby boy: now the two of them, plus Samira's four other children, are relying on us again.

It is in no way fair that Samira is not able to rest or eat or recover from childbirth, or that she is forced to reach out to strangers on the Internet in the hopes of even the slightest relief, but it's what is happening.

I know it is Christmas soon, I know that things are tight for many people, but if watching an ongoing genocide for over a year has been exhausting, demoralising and soul-destroying for those of us lucky enough to live in safety, it is impossible to overstate the impact of those actually in Gaza experiencing it.

Please, if you have even $5 USD or equivalent to spare, consider sending it to Samira so she and her children can escape the latest round of bombings, buy flour so they can eat, get a tent to shelter in and raise funds for future evacuation.

I'm not sure what else to say, but please. Please. As Samira said to me: "what else is there to say? [We are] dying from cold, hunger and pain." If there was ever a moment for action, this is it.

The link to Samira's gofundme is here. At time of writing, it is at just over $5k ($5,022 on the 22nd December 2024) but again, all that money has been withdrawn to pay for Samira's caesarean section. She is starting from scratch!

If you are able to donate at all, please do, but if not reblogging this post and sharing the fundraiser with those who are able to spare something is still a great help and something everyone can do.

Thank you so much for caring about Samira and her children ❤️

#palestine #important #boost #verified #genocide #childbirth #samira ayman #samiraaymaan #gofundme #90 ghost #free palestine #all eyes on rafah #gaza

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phone4pills · 2 days ago

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Can I just say a massive thank you to everyone who’s ever read my work. From the random user to my awesome mutuals who keep me motivated to keep writing. Not just by interacting, but by releasing work that inspires me beyond anything else. You guys are my muses !!

@hearts4werka you are a fabulous writer with an even more fabulous heart. I love talking to you and sending gifs and pictures back and forth. I may not know you in real life but you are a genuine friend. This app would not be the same for me without you, you stimulate my brain and hype my ideas so I feel comfortable with what I write.

@chrislilcumslvt you have supported me from day one and there hasn’t been a day that you haven’t liked one of my posts. you have such a fun sense of humour and I will forever stay stalking you because you bring so much to the app as I’m sure many other writers will agree.

@chestersturniolo you were one of my first mutuals and your writing is beyond amazing. the talent you have is double the talent I could ever hope to have and your works are imprinted on my brain. I love you to shreds and I hope you know how much I appreciate you.

@sturnioz you write some of the most luring pieces ont he app and it’s no wonder that so many people interact with you, including me. your account is like the forest where all the Chris girls unite to build shit together and I love you for that. At the beginning of my account I was all over your stuff and for a good reason too so you definitely have impacted how I write and made my works more appealing to the readers on here.

@strnilolover you have no idea how much I look up to you. there is no accomplishment that you don’t deserve fully. you are so gifted and have a special place in my heart. being beautiful, smart and kind at the same time is not very common these days but you are an anomaly because you are truly all that and more.

@nikolastrn you support me so fucking much and have no idea how much it means to me. even if we don’t communicate as much tho is my way of telling you that I acknowledge all that you have done and still do for my account. I love you for that and more, you’re fucking wonderful.

@pr3ttyf4wn you are my bestest yap friend on the app and I love what we’ve built between us. you bring so many unique ideas to the table and your account is so interactive. I feel like I can head over there whenever if I’m bored or need to let something out. Usually I’m not very good in people’s inboxes but it’s so easy to talk to you and I truly appreciate that.

@its4lyric you are the reason that starting out on tumblr wasn’t too difficult for me. you’re constant support and spreading of my content has made me the writer I am today with such an abundant following. my heart goes out to you for building me up to be what I am today. thank you for everything.

@55sturn you work so hard to make things happen and your creative mindset and drive are just two of many reasons why you are so widely respected. my debut on this app was raised up by users like you who hype up smaller writers and make everyone feel valued. you helped me find my place here and feel comfortable with being myself on this app.

@delilahsturniolo you have been here for my entire journey and never one have you looked down on my creations. you are such a deserving account and I can’t make an appreciation post without including you. your lively soul and soft presence are like a gift to our community and I’m so glad that I can call you my mutual.

@muwapsturniolo you have such a flaming passion that makes your work cling onto my soul. whenever I see you on my feed I can they’ll but wonder how different the fandom would be without you. anything you say or do is interesting to me and the little life documents make me feel like a friend of yours who can trust you.

@mattslolita you have made history on this app with your one-in-a-million talent. I couldn’t possible imagine my life without the inspiration that I’ve taken from so much of your stuff. not to mention, I’m sure many who enter your inbox feel like your account is a second home because you are so approachable and attentive. You are a household treasure for loads of us, so thank you.

@bernardsbendystraws you have so much skill that I strive to replicate one day. a lot of this fandom thrives off your creativity and I am an avid enjoyer of your work. you inspire me on the daily to keep pushing until my name is known across the fandom for my hard work. I hope you know that you are appreciated on here.

@fallbhind you and your cut skittle account can come and kiss me because there is nothing on there that I won’t willingly read when I have the time. you are a huge inspiration in my eyes and I really can’t wait to get to know you more and grow out mutuality. shine bright bitch.

@sturniolossss you deserve my utmost gratitude for keeping me posted at all times as well as being the least toxic, least problematic queen on here. something about your account makes me comfortable and it’s a nice getaway when I’m stressed from writing or trying to to come up with new ideas. never lose that little spark of humour you got because it does make my day better for one.

There are SO MANY MORE that I could add to this list and I know for a fact that there will be another part in due time. But thank you so much for these amazing users and now…

A special thanks to YOU the reader of you have ever read anything of mine I appreciate you so so much. If you have done me the honour of making the the step to interact in any way I’m blowing you kisses. 1K followers doesn’t seem like such a far stretch to me anymore because of how much everyone on here has done for me. And if you had any part in that, I love you so much! Thank you so very much from me.

#phone4pills

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dandylovesturtles · 3 days ago

Note

Now that 2024 is coming to a close:

1) Of everything you've made this year, which ones are you the most proud of?

2) What are a few of your favorite things (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?

(Gonna apologize in advance that this answer won’t have specific links because I moved fast)

1. Well, this year I finished I May Be Invisible, But I Still Look Good, which was a major accomplishment for me! It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written, and I was really proud of myself for sticking it out to the end. It got way bigger than I ever expected, and big thanks again to everyone who came on the ride with me.

Of the things I started this year, my favorite has been the emotional support water bottles AKA Room Fic. Kind of insane to think I came up with the first one while eating lunch and dropped all my plans for the afternoon to write the whole thing in one day lol! I hope to get the last followup done soon, I’ve just had a little trouble getting my mojo.

There’s another project I started this year that I hoped to have out already but maybe sometime in the first part of next year. I’m excited to share it when it’s done!

2. Oh boy I’ll try to get everything!

I of course enjoyed some ongoing projects this year, including Replica AU by @kathaynesart, Sep Leo AU by @dianagj-art, 2 Arms Left by @intotheelliwoods, Adagio in Green by @boxfullaturtles, and Empyrean Weeping by @cupcakeslushie! Also shoutout to the @tizeline Sep AU where Donnie is the most chaotic only child, and @vangh17a ‘s Wanderer comic which is beautiful and intriguing.

@remedyturtles broke all our hearts with Firefight this year and I had a great time teaming up during the AU Comp! Also LOVED their fic about third man syndrome, but I’m always a sucker for Leo and his papa.

I love everything @goodlucktai has ever written but I especially loved the recent A Team fics and also the Archer AU! Gio is so precious

On the subject of lost siblings, I am privileged to be the beta reader for @kiaxet ‘s fic Siblingquest. Cissy is also precious, and I’m really excited about Kia’s future plans for the story!

And there’s just been a ton of great art this year from so many people, including @e-turn @trilobitepunch @koolaidashley and so many others. I know I’m missing so many people but this community is just full of talented, amazing artists!

And finally, my biggest love and shoutout for this year goes to @untitled-tmnt-blog , who not only makes GORGEOUS art pieces, but who made me a whole physical BOOK for IMBI!! Seriously the most touching thing anyone has ever done for me. PLEASE check out untitled’s art (and writing!) because everything she does is amazing.

And so many others who have talked with me about this fun show and who listen to me rambling about my endless AU ideas. You are all so cool. Here’s to 2025!

And thanks for the ask!

#rottmnt

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annaisabookworm · 2 days ago

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Seasons Greetings

Listen to your fav holiday song while reading!

Merry Christmas/ Happy Holidays to all my favorite authors and mutuals and friends! You all have written amazing stories that helped me get through the year I look up to you all so much. I hope you all have the best holidays and new years. I can’t wait to read more stories to come from you all. Everyone here on this app is so kind and supportive. I’ve never felt a community so supportive and caring. I am going to try to tag everyone who I would like to thank (this will take hours) and I just love you all and anyone who is reading this. Whether I was reading Harry Potter or Percy Jackson or Outer Banks or Stranger Things or the hunger games or the marauders or twilight or the most niche fan fictions I was just like to thank you very much for giving up your time to write amazing incredible stories. You have truly made me your special and giving me the joy of being able to immerse myself into a world of my dreams is truly a gift thank you so much.

@shiftingwithmars @multific @axelsagewrites @dontblamethewitches @frost-queen @george-weasleys-girl-deactivate @julesinsummer @moondancediner @xoxochb @starkeysprincess @randomoutsiders @riddlemenott @riddlesb1tch @notrafecameron @nottswitch @nottsbaby @slytherinstories @slytherinsmuse @slytheringangstuff @slytherslvt @likedaylighht @sethsclearwater @cherrixpie

Feel free to tag people you’d like to thank aswell! I love you all!

#obx fic #obx #theodore nott #slytherin boys #taylor swift #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x reader #theodore nott x reader #mattheo riddle x y/n #harry potter x reader #james potter x reader #professor remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #finnick odair #snow

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vampyastro · 9 hours ago

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𝕬𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖔 𝕺𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 𝖕𝖙 𝟛

✐ ✧Common birth chart placements of famous writers✧ ✐

Hey everyone! I am someone who loves reading and writing so I decided to look into some of my favorite authors birth charts and find common placements amongst them that could indicate being a good writer. Of course there are other placements in a birth chart that can indicate this (I researched a lot of writers charts and of course not all of them have these placements), I just thought it was interesting to see these the common placements amongst prominent writers. If there are any writers you know of that have these placements feel free to let me know!

✐ I’ve noticed a lot of famous male writers have Gemini moons, meanwhile famous female writers have Libra moons.

✐ Gemini Moons: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Franz Kafka, Charles Baudelaire, J.D. Salinger, T.S Eliot

✐ Libra Moons: Sylvia Plath, Maya Angelou, Jane Austen, Emily Dickinson, Agatha Christie, Louise Gluck

✐ Mercury is also another indicator of whether someone is a good writer. Mercury is the planet of communication, thinking patterns, mentality, reasoning/rational, etc. The authors Mercury sign can sometimes reflect the topics they write about. For instance, Oscar Wilde is a Scorpio Mercury and he wrote a lot about death, transformation, mystery and the fall from grace.

✐ Scorpio Mercury: Oscar Wilde, Sylvia Plath, Arthur Miller, Mark Twain

✐ Sagittarius Mercury: Albert Camus, Louisa May Alcott, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Charles Baudelaire, Christina Rossetti, Jane Austen, Emily Dickinson, Louise Gluck

✐ Writers usually tend to have prominent 10th house placements. Many planets in the 10th house can represent authority, being career oriented and success. Most often I’ve seen Saturn be in many of these writers houses, which makes sense because many of these individuals had tough lives and preserved through many challenges in order to gain the success they had. Some died without even knowing how successful they were or the legacy they left on the world. Specifically Franz Kafka, he had Mars, Saturn, Neptune and Chiron in the 10th house. Kafka died thinking he was a failure, his writings didn’t reach their peak popularity until many years after his death.

✐ Other writers with prominent 10th house placements include:

Christina Rossetti (Moon, Saturn), Emily Dickinson (Saturn, North Node), Agatha Christie (Venus), Arthur Miller (Mars, Saturn, Neptune), Mary Shelley (Pluto), Oscar Wilde (Saturn), Ernest Hemingway (Neptune, Pluto), Shakespeare (Mercury, Pluto)

✐ Overall in my findings, I noticed that many writers I researched to have multiple Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Gemini and Sagittarius placements in their charts.

-Side note, he’s not necessarily a writer, although he did write books; Sigmund Freud is a Gemini moon and Scorpio rising. I think that is very interesting lol.

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰! *:･ﾟ✧

𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝔂𝓸𝓷𝓮! ♡

P.s Let me know if you’re interested in more posts like this. I can do famous musicians, artists, psychologists, etc :) Also, thank you for all the support on my last two posts! 🫶🏻

#astro notes #astro observations #astrology #writing #Astro #astrology notes #zodic signs #zodiac

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bunnyinfoxclothing · 3 days ago

Note

Holiday headcanon for you :)

I imagine Christmas is a big thing in Heaven, and Vaggie really enjoyed it. Once she was cast out she figured she wouldn’t get to celebrate again, since why would demons do Christmas? Then Sinsmas rolls around, and while it’s not Christmas Charlie gets really into it and Vaggie thinks she might actually prefer it.

This was so much fun to write. Send me more headcanons. Plz and thank you!

----------- Vaggie can feel the holiday season. It twitches in the muscles that were once used to support her wings. It burns in the acid of her stomach that rises to her throat. It chills in the heat that no longer exists in the bodies around her. It stings her eyes as she peers at the fires down below, just as it did when she awed at the lights above.

She remembers the grand celebrations of the Nativity. The praises of Christ's birth. Music played without the need for speakers, it was a heavenly tune that one couldn't help but hum. The hums turning to hymns of praise. The virgin Mary with child was depicted on every corner. It was her that took focus, because it was only though her suffering that He could walk the earth.

She remembers the banquets, with abundant, radiant food, shared among saints and angels. They shared stories and culture as they feaster on each of their own favorite food. There was no shortage of divine feasts, everyone welcome to each one.

Each one accompanied by a joyous gathering. Loved ones reunited, sharing love and stories in peace and harmony. A time to remember moments alive and bask in the happiness that you can only gain loved ones from here on out.

She remembers choir performances. Heavenly choirs singing sacred Christmas carols, filling the air with joy. Some brought together after years of practice to perform for events. Others brought together when hums became hymns.

She remembers the gift giving. There was the traditional gifts of hand knits sweaters and gaming consoles. But in a place where you can have anything spiritual gifts were more common. Spiritual gifts of grace, blessings, and peace exchanged among the faithful.

She remembers the light displays. The light displays. Radiant and ethereal displays of divine light, symbolizing the arrival of Christ. There was nothing comparable to its beauty. The night sky would clear of stars and the sky would bloom with ribbons of light. Streaks of gold and violet unfurling like celestial brushstrokes across the dark canvas. The air felt charged, alive with the quiet majesty of something beyond comprehension, as if the universe itself had paused to witness its own beauty. Everything breathing in perfect harmony.

It was a time for quiet reflection on the meaning of Christ's birth and all that humanity had suffered and will suffer. Every body was living proof of the hope that love brings. And hope that people continue to choose good.

It was gone.

It was all gone.

The only time God's name was spoken here was if damnit was quick to follow.

Vaggie leaned against the railing resting her head against her hands as she stared down at a flickering fire as she watched as yet another sinner was tossed into the pile of boring bodies.

God damnit.

She rubbed at her eyes as they stung with the ash from below. She hoped it was just ash.

A hand came to rest on the small of her back. She jumped just enough for her back to meet the soft front of a body she knew all too well.

"Charlie." Vaggie smiled.

"Hey, pretty bird. It's the Sinsmas Season and I feel like I'm doing all the work." Vaggie smiled. Charlie rarely used pet names for her, mainly because they did things to Vaggie that made it hard to focus and they had a hotel to run.

"Shit. Sorry Hon, I was just lost in thought. I can help now. Do you want me on Hotel work or..." Vaggie froze at the look on Charlie's face.

"I want you," Charlie kissed her nose. "To come downstairs and sit with everyone and just relax." Charlie placed another kiss on her vacant eye. "Please."

How could she say no.

Walking downstairs, Vaggie was met with quite the sight. The hotel residents getting along wasn't rare. The residents getting along while doing the same activity was. The residents getting along while doing one of Charlie and Vaggie's bonding activities, and not making fun of it, was impossible.

Yet here they were.

Everyone was in their own little area of the hotel lobby. Each person decorating their own little tree. Tinsel was wrapped around in each persons signature colors.

Angel decorated some parts with pictures. Most from his photoshoots at work, most were surprisingly tasteful with not too much on display.

Nifty's had cleaning supplies unsurprisingly, but also tufts of fur and both surprisingly big and surprisingly small bugs threaded together like popcorn on a string.

Alastor, Vaggie had expected to be covered in gore, like sinner parts with a head on top like a twisted angel. But no. It was mostly decorated with fabric. And various pieces stolen from Charlie's dad. Namely a duck at the top, disfigured and bloody.

Lucifer himself was glaring at Alastor, his own tree not too far away decorated solely with ducks. Each one depicting a different person.

Husk had cards decorated around as well as one of angel's pictures or the entire hotel crew. Alastor pointedly crossed out. There were also mini shots hung around the tree. And the two things that caught Vaggie's eye the most was one of her feathers, as well as one of his own.

Charlie pulled her along to two trees. They were extremely close together, considering the distance every other tree had from one another.

One was vary obviously Charlies. Aggressively red and gold with imagery of the whole hotel, but also a lot of Vaggie. Primarily Vaggie. Where husk had one of her feathers Charlie had been collecting feathers from at least the last month or two.

The other tree was bare.

"Okay." Charlie smiled and bounced in place. "You can decorate it however you like and- I mean..." Charlie seemed to get a little nervous. "No pressure, but if you want anything from me, just let me know. I don't know what specifically you can take, but i'm sure we can-"

"You should put her jizz in a small vial and hang it up!" Angel called from across the room, barely able to get it out through the laughter.

"I mean if that's what you want?" Charlie seemed genuinely confused, but not opposed.

What.

"I am confused."

"This is your sinsmas tree."

"Yes. Got that."

"It's for pride." Charlie gestured to her own tree, then tilted her head "Well technically this is for both Pride and Greed. There is some overlap."

When Vaggie didn't immediately answer Charlie explained. "Well it's about what you are most proud of. And that sort of extends to greed in the sense of look what I have." Charlie's eyes widened. "But like not in an ownership way. But also very much in a possessive almost ownership way. So I guess it can also count as Envy?"

Vaggie's eye widened this time.

"What I mean to say, is this is what I have. It is what I am proud of. And if you so much as lay a finger on it. I am going to fuck you up. Maybe this is also Wrath??"

"Is there something for every sin?"

"Oh yeah!" Charlie sits herself down in front of the tree, grabbing Vaggie's hand and bringing her down too.

Vaggie gets pulled down until she is comfortably leaning against Charlie. With enough room that she can move and adjust to rest her head in Charlie's lap if she wanted.

"So there isn't just one thing for you to do, you don't have to decorate the tree for Pride if you don't want to."

"Tell me how you like to."

"Okay." Charlie smiles. "I like the tree for Pride. It is something nice for me to look at. I have everything I want here. When you're upstairs and my dad is in his tower and Angel is at work and with Sir Pentious in Heaven and my mom..." Charlie trailed off. "You're all right here."

Vaggie nodded letting Charlie speak.

"Pride is about reveling in your own greatness, showing tokens of achievement and power, celebrating yourself and all you have done. And I have you. You are my greatest achievement. It's possessive. I know it is. A part of me wants to tie you to my tree."

Hot.

Charlie sighs adjusting herself. "Anyways, there is also Greed. The Hotel itself is our Greed. You can have your own if you want, but Greed is about over abundance. To fill that desire to amass, and own, and indulge without limit. It's like the gluttony of material things. It's a symbol of prosperity and success. I like to amass and over indulge in people. It's like my own personal hoard here."

Vaggie couldn't help but be curious. "What about Wrath. There's not some fight I need to worry about breaking out is there?"

"Wrath isn't about violence." Charlie shakes her head. "It's about passion through action. It isn't something you need to build or make, but something you change in yourself. Sinners and Hellborn are encouraged to embrace their anger to fuel self-improvement and transformation."

"Like a new years resolution?"

"What's new years?"

"It's basically a celebration of the end of a year and an excuse to get drunk and kiss someone."

"That's extermination day."

"So tell me more about Sinsmas."

"Uhhhh, Envy. Right. Well Envy is a time where we take in what we have done for Pride, the trees, and see what makes us jealous. Alastor took Dad's duck. I'm half sure that's just out of spite, but there could be a reason."

Vaggie held back a laugh.

"But Um Husk. He took one of Angel's photos. Husk talks to everyone sure, but it's like he says. Everyone looks to the bartender for advice."

"I don't think that's what he says specifically"

"AND so, he doesn't have the same relationship with everyone that angel has. He is jealous of that. If he wants he will use that as his Wrath."

Vaggie smiled. This was all such positive take on each of the sins. She wanted Charlie to keep talking. "I imagine gluttony is just a big feast."

"Nailed it right on the head. It's a time to savor the moment. And the flavor, but it's about indulging in food and drinks and in a way companionship."

"Tell me more."

"Sloth and then you decorate your tree."

"Deal."

"Sloth is about taking a break. It's hard. Living in Hell I mean. I'm- the sins, Dad, me. We're not blind to it. People are suffering here. It's a moment to take a break from all of that. To just sleep and know that tomorrow you will be okay. It's about taking as much self care as you can."

Charlie smiled.

"Speaking of... I booked us a spa day in sloth. It's not for another few weeks, but that will be my sloth covered. You pick yours and we'll do that too. I'll plan it if you want."

Vaggie giggled. "Sure, hon."

"Okay. Up an at 'em. It is tree time."

Vaggie still has no idea what to put on the tree. So she starts small. Pride was weird. The earliest thing she can remember taking pride in was the exterminations. But that's not something she can say she's proud of anymore. She likes her spear. She's proud of how well she uses it, but she can't just hang it up.

She looks at Charlie. That's an obvious one, but Charlie didn't loose feathers the way Vaggie did.

That was a start. Vaggie was proud of her wings. A proof of her love to Charlie. She unfurled one, taking it in hand and forcefully plucking a few feathers. It hurt, but only for a few moments. Like plucking her eyebrows, just with a bigger surface area of pain. She littered them here and there.

Tomorrow she would fly to the Carmines. Ask for a spare spear. Something from them if she had the courage. If not the spear could work for both. Maybe just a spear head to work as a tree topper.

Vaggie began to work. Starting with the purple tinsel Charlie had ran to fetch just for her. Running upstairs she grabbed a picture of her and Charlie. She grabbed a few knickknacks that Charlie had gotten her while out on trips to other rings. Back when she didn't know Vaggie could join her.

There was just one thing missing.

Vaggie turned to Charlie. "Can you make something for me."

Charlie's eyes brightened. "Absolutely." Her creation magic already bursting to light. And as Vaggie spoke it slowly took form.

It was Vaggie gilded in gold.

Not how Charlie saw her. It was Vaggie with all her imperfections. Without the eyepatch or the X over her eye. In all her short stature, muscular almost man-ish back and weird stomach. Both coming from the muscle of her wings. Her wings not out on display but neatly tucked behind.

This wasn't Vaggie the protector.

Or Vaggie the angel.

Not even Vaggie the girlfriend.

Just Vaggie.

In all her imperfect glory.

Charlie smiled as she looked up at the tree. It's perfect. They were only in the lobby for three hours at most. The other Hazbins were settling down to watch a movie. Lightly arguing over which to watch as Charlie gently took Vaggie upstairs.

"You know. There was a sin I forgot to mention."

"Hm?"

Vaggie smiled as Charlie picked her up. Her legs naturally coming to wrap around Charlie's waist, as Charlie unlocked the door to their room.

"It's about indulging in the beauty of passion. Attraction. Sensuality." Charlie started to sway slightly. "It is celebrated with decadent feasts and sultry dances."

Vaggie shivered as Charlie annunciated each syllable of decadent.

"Love and intimacy are celebrated as powerful here. They are divine forces that unite people in their most authentic forms." With a burst of heat she felt Charlie change under her fingertips. Her own wings coming out in full force. Flapping once. twice. Three times before settling on her back.

One of Charlies hands came up to caress the feathers a low moan escaping her as if it were Charlie's own body she were playing with.

"Lust." Vaggie gasped.

"At your command." Lust answered.

#hazbin hotel #vaggie #vaggie x charlie #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin vaggie #chaggie #charlie morningstar #charlie x vaggie #hazbin headcanons #angel vaggie #christmas #christmas headcanons #hazbin hotel christmas #I had so much fun writing this.#Might post on AO3

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mugglebornmarvelite · 1 day ago

Text

Rescued from a Paper

Paring: TASM!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you are frustrated and overwhelmed with your paper, your boyfriend comes over (almost as if his spidey senses were attuned to you). At first, jokingly, Peter offers to do it for you (he’s brilliant, and he’d actually do it for you). But all jokes aside, he rubs your head and gently coaxes you to take a break from your computer. Although you resist, he ultimately wins.

Word Count: Roughly 1.4k

Warnings: Fluff, mild language, talks of stress due to assignments, suggestive flirting, and awful but cute chemistry puns

Note: I had the worst time writing a 30-page paper for this semester. My brain is a bit fried at the moment and I tried to edit this as best as possible. So, to everyone finishing up projects, presentations, and papers before the holiday break, this is for you (everyone really) :)

The blinking cursor on the screen taunts you, its rhythmic pulse mocking your every attempt to continue writing. You curse under your breath, your frustration at its peak. You’ve been sitting at your desk for hours now; the only time you left your room was for coffee. Your eyes are red from staring at research articles to support your hypothesis. Typing sentences of analysis for your cited evidence and deleting them just as quickly as they came.

But no matter what you do, the words don’t come.

Your deadline is a week away.

A week? Manageable.

But coupled with studying for finals and a part-time job? Agonizing.

You sigh, wanting nothing more but to tell your professor to eat shit. But you couldn't. Well, you could, but that probably would go over very nicely.

Despite all your best efforts, the mountain of work before you feels overwhelming. You've got about 10,000 more words to write, then you have to circle back and do the abstract.

You glance outside your window, greeted with darkness. You lean back in your chair, letting your shoulders slump, wishing for some kind of relief.

“This is hopeless.” You mutter, throwing your crumpled notes in the trash.

You fought the urge to cry or commit a crime. Either one would work at this point. Or both.

"Hey, pretty girl," a familiar voice called out, and your body instantly relaxed. "It’s your handsome, handsome boyfriend. Your mom said I could come up."

You rolled your eyes at the sound of Peter’s voice and walked toward the door with a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Dressed in comfortable sweats, his brown hair a fluffy mess, his cheeks flushed a bit from the cold, and his glasses slightly crooked on his nose.

"Hi, Pete," you said, trying to sound nonchalant, though your heart was already racing. "You’re looking extra nerdy tonight."

“Well, thanks.” Peter smiled, his eyes lazily scanning over you. “I thought it was perfect for spending the night with my amazing, smart, undoubtedly beautiful and stressed-out girlfriend.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning against the doorframe. “If you keep talking about how amazing I am, I’ll have to give you an A+,” you teased.

“Now I really have to live up to my perfect boyfriend status.” Peter winked, stepping into your room, his eyes quickly scanning the pile of textbooks and papers strewn across your desk. “Still stuck on that paper, huh?”

"Yeah, it sucks the life out of me," you muttered, running a hand roughly through your hair, “I’ve been stuck on the same paragraph for the last hour.”

You sit back down at your desk again, glaring at your computer as if it has insulted your entire bloodline. But Peter bought it for you and added the stickers himself. It was perfect. Just like your Peter. While your professor was like a spawn from the depths of hell, who added 5 pages to the requirements the week before it was due.

Peter chuckled, the sound of his voice like a soothing balm to your weary mind. "I see. Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m pretty sure you could write a paper on the properties of your stressed brain and still get an A." He walked up to your desk, giving you a cocky little grin. “I mean, I could totally do it for you, y’know. I’m pretty good with words, my fingers, my tongue and my ability to ramble on endlessly about, well, everything?”

You blush and roll your eyes, amused despite yourself. "Really? You think you could just write it for me?"

Peter shrugged, leaning against your desk, the cocky grin still on his face. “Oh, absolutely. I could take this whole thing and turn it into a masterpiece. I’m Peter Parker after all, baby. You could just sit back and relax, while I do all the heavy lifting, which is easy for the guy with certain cool abilites. You could even, y'know, take a break,” he added.

You laughed, but it was more of a tired chuckle than anything truly amused.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, trying to focus on your laptop again. “You don’t even know the topic, Pete.”

“True.” He pretended to think about it for a second. “But it could be something about molecules or atoms?” He gave you a sly smile. “I mean, I’m practically a walking periodic table. And if chemists do it on the table periodically, we can too.”

Your cheeks flushed at his implication. “You’re such a dog.”

Peter grinned, a little glint in his eye as he took a step closer. "Well, if you are about to combust, let’s just say I’m the perfect solution. After all, I’m all about bonding chemistry, especially with you," he said, winking.

You snorted, despite your frustration, your cheeks flushing from both the playful flirtation and the weight of the work still looming over you. "Stop it," you said, unable to keep the smile off your face. “You’re so corny.”

Peter leaned closer, his hand brushing your hair back from your face, and his smile softened. “I can’t help it. You bring out the best in me,” he said, before adding, “and the worst, apparently.”

You rolled your eyes, but this time, there was no hiding the grin that tugged at your lips. "You’re gonna distract me with your terrible puns. But I’m behind. If I stop now, I won’t get it done.”

Peter’s smile faded into something softer as he gently rubbed your head, his hand moving in slow circles on your scalp.

You fold faster than a lawn chair for this man as your eyes close, a protest dying on your lips.

“I get it, sweet girl. I do. But you’ve been working that pretty little ass off for hours, and you’re only going to make yourself more frustrated if you keep going like this. I’m not saying you can’t finish it because that would be a lie. I am never not in awe of you. But just take a break.” He paused, watching you with those warm, brown eyes. “Let me help you relax for just a little bit. Then, you’ll have the energy to kill this paper.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, though your resistance was weakening. “I don’t need a break.”

Peter’s hand moved to your shoulder, his warm fingers easing the knots with praticed ease. He knew every spot to hit to make you melt. “A quick break will help you, baby.” You were all but purring.

You hesitated for a moment, but when your eyes locked with Peter’s warm, brown eyes, you were a goner.

“Okay, Pete,” you mumbled, giving in. “Fine. I’ll take a break. But only for a little bit.”

Peter grinned, victorious, and without hesitation, dragging you to your bed. “I knew you’d see things my way, baby,” he said, his voice full of smug satisfaction. “Now, let’s get you properly relaxed. In more ways than one.”

As soon as your head hit the pillow, you sighed in relifef. You looked up at Peter, who was taking off his jacket, revealing the softest sweater. You needed him.

Peter crawled up beside you, grinning down at you like a prey in his trap. “I promise, I won’t let you do any more work until you’re feeling like yourself again. Then, we can tackle that paper together. Not a moment sooner.”

You laughed. "Yeah, right," you teased, rolling your eyes. “Sure, and then we’ll write a paper about quantum physics and why it’s best enjoyed with cookies.”

“Ah!” Peter gasped, his eyes lighting up. “Quantum physics and cookies? Now that’s a bond I can get behind. Who needs regular chemistry when we’ve got this kind of reaction?”

You snorted, your frustration finally melting away with Peter's playful jokes and gentle teasing. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then your nose, and then finally, your lips.

“See?” he whispered against your lips. “Much better.”

Then, without warning, he starts peppering you with soft, quick kisses all over your face, making you laugh despite yourself.

“Peter!” you exclaim, trying to push him away, but his hands hold you gently in place, the kisses relentless and warm.

He pulls back just long enough to look at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “You need to smile more, you know? Seeing my girl happy always makes me happy.”

A warmth spreads through your chest. And just like that you are reminded that you are the luckiest girl ever.

Peter’s grin widens at your smile, and he leans in again, this time planting a soft, sweet kiss on your lips. You melt as his tongue slips into your mouth.

And for the first time all night, you feel light. Peter Parker was your solace.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs, pulling away just slightly. “And neither is your paper. So how about we just focus on this for a while? Just you and me.”

Peter rubs your back as you relax into him, your world shifting from stress to calm in the span of a few minutes. His voice is soft as he whispers jokingly, “Just relax for me, okay? Let me be your hero.”

“You always are.” You smile and pull him closer, letting the weight of the paper slip away for a little while longer.

Thank you so much for reading. My professor did, in fact, add five pages to the requirements for the paper a week before it was due, so this was totally self-indulgent.

But I hope you enjoyed this :)

Much love x

- Maeve

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