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jinniejjam · 2 months ago

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Lonely Wine

✎ Mean Neighbor!Lee Know x Lonely Afab!Reader

✎ Christmas AU, Emotional, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, 18+ MDNI! NSFW, Mutual Pining, Smut, Mistletoe Trope, Romantic Ending.

✎ 3.4k

✎ Synopsis: you find yourself feeling alone and distant, lost in your own thoughts. Your annoying neighbor, Lee Minho, crosses your path, and the exchange between you is far from pleasant. But then, to your surprise, he apologizes. As the holiday season continues, the walls between you begin to crumble, and you start to realize that even the most unexpected neighbors can bring warmth and connection when you least expect it.

A/n : hii y'all! I bring the christmas fanfic for today, hope you enjoy the story and also Merry Christmas! I hope warmth found u^^

—Bae

The air was cold, sharp against your skin as you leaned on the edge of your window, a half-empty glass of wine in your hand. Christmas Eve had always been a hollow affair for you, a reminder of what you didn’t have.

Your family wasn’t just complicated—it was fractured, splintered beyond repair. Your parents had divorced years ago, both quickly moving on to build new families, leaving you somewhere in the middle. No one outright abandoned you, but no one fought for you either. Holidays became a game of polite invitations and shallow smiles, and eventually, you stopped trying to belong anywhere.

You finished the wine faster than you intended, the warmth in your chest doing little to ease the ache. The sound of distant laughter and carols drifted in through the window, each note a cruel reminder of what this night was supposed to be.

When you realized your stock of wine was gone, you sighed and grabbed your coat. A trip to the store would be better than sitting alone with your thoughts.

The grocery store was mostly empty, its fluorescent lights buzzing softly. You wandered the aisles, the sight of festive decorations and holiday discounts doing nothing to lift your spirits. Three bottles of wine went into your basket—too much for one night, maybe, but you didn’t care.

By the time you returned to your building, your arms were aching from the weight of the bottles. You stepped into the elevator, letting out a breath as the doors closed.

But they didn’t close fast enough.

“Hold it!” a familiar voice called, and your stomach dropped as Lee Minho slid in just before the doors shut.

Of course. Out of all the people in this building, it had to be him.

Lee Minho, your annoying salty neighbor who had been a thorn of your peacefull life in this building, you're not sure how and when it started, but every encounter with him always feels like a war somehow, well its maybe begin from the very first you moved in to this building.

Flashback

The new apartment smelled like fresh paint and floor polish. You sat on your worn couch, staring at the boxes still stacked in chaotic clusters, a sigh escaping your lips. Starting over wasn’t easy. The stress of work and the pressures of life had already begun weighing down on you, but you were determined to make this new chapter as bright as possible.

After a long debate, you decided to bake cookies for your neighbors as a peace offering—a way to establish yourself in the building. A sense of community might help ease the loneliness. Armed with a plate of warm cookies, you stepped out of your door, knocking at the unit beside yours.

It swung open sharply.

The man who stood before you was breathtakingly gorgeous, but his expression was nothing short of murderous. His dark, sharp eyes narrowed in annoyance, his jawline so sharp you could swear it could cut glass.

“Yes?” His voice was flat, unwelcoming.

“Oh, hi! I just moved in next door. I made cookies and thought I’d introduce myself!” you said, holding the plate out with a smile.

He stared at the cookies like they were contaminated.

“Thanks, but no thanks.” His tone was curt. Without another word, he shut the door.

You blinked, stunned. What the hell was that?

Or that one time when he complained, saying that you're being loud just 3 days right after you moved in.

The next few days after moving in filled with unpacking, arranging furniture, and trying to settle into your new place. It was exhausting, and by the weekend, you decided to reward yourself with a relaxing night—some wine, your favorite playlist, and a bubble bath.

The music was soft, barely above a whisper, but as you swayed along while unpacking some remaining boxes, a sudden knock startled you. It wasn’t just a polite tap; it was loud, deliberate, and aggressive.

You frowned as you opened the door, only to find yourself face-to-face with your grumpy neighbor. Lee Minho stood there, arms crossed, his dark eyes glaring down at you like you were the source of all his problems.

“Seriously?” he snapped.

“What?” you asked, taken aback.

“The music,” he said. “Some of us are trying to sleep, and your constant noise is making it impossible.”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s barely 9 PM.”

“And? Some people have early mornings,” he replied. “Unlike you, apparently.”

You folded your arms. “Excuse me, but I’m not exactly throwing a party over here. The music is quiet enough that I can barely hear it myself. Maybe the problem isn’t me; maybe it’s you.”

His jaw tightened. “Oh, so now I’m the problem?”

“Kind of, yeah,” you shot back. “Maybe you should consider moving to a remote cabin in the woods if you hate hearing other people so much.”

The tension between you crackled like static. He exhaled sharply, clearly deciding you weren’t worth more of his time.

“Whatever,” he muttered. “Just keep it down.”

With that, he turned on his heel and stalked back to his apartment, leaving you fuming in the doorway.

You think that was the moment the gloves came off. From then on, the two of you clashed at every opportunity—snarky comments in the elevator, icy glares in the hallway, and a mounting frustration that turned into outright hostility.

Back to present time, he leaned casually against the cold wall of the elevator, his sharp eyes scanning the bottles in your arms. His smirk was almost immediate.

“Three bottles?” he quipped, tilting his head. “For one person? What is this, a pity party?”

You didn’t respond, staring straight ahead and hoping he’d shut up.

But Minho wasn’t done. “What? Are you that lonely? Not even a family to spend Christmas with?”

His words hit like a gut punch, sharp and uncalled for. Your fingers tightened around the bag handles as you turned to glare at him.

“Yeah, keep talking, Lee. I’m sure your perfect little life makes all of this just so much better,” you shot back, your voice trembling but laced with bitterness.

Minho blinked, taken aback. He had expected you to snap back, to fight him with the same sarcastic edge you always did. Instead, he saw the hurt in your eyes, the raw emotion you’d been trying so hard to hide. His stomach twisted in regret, realizing too late that he had pushed the wrong button this time. The smug expression he wore faltered, guilt creeping in as he watched you turn away right after the elevator door opened.

Once inside your apartment, the weight of his words finally crashed down on you. You set the bottles on the counter, your hands trembling.

Not even a family.

It wasn’t just an insult—it was the truth. Your parents had their own lives, their own families, and you were nothing more than a reminder of their failed marriage. Christmas had become a painful routine: fake smiles, awkward dinners, and feeling like an outsider in both of their homes. This year, you hadn’t even bothered to show up.

Tears welled in your eyes as you uncorked one of the bottles. The first sip burned your throat, but you didn’t stop. With each gulp, you tried to drown the ache, to silence the doubts and regrets swirling in your mind.

But the wine didn’t help. Instead, it magnified everything.

The tears spilled over, hot and relentless, as the weight of the night pressed harder on you. You sank onto the couch, clutching the bottle like it was your lifeline. The sound of distant carols and laughter seeped in through the thin walls, each note a cruel reminder of what you didn’t have.

A knock at the door made you freeze.

“Who’s there?” you called, your voice hoarse.

“It’s me.”

Minho.

Your chest tightened. The last person you wanted to see right now was him.

“Go away!” you shouted, wiping at your tear-streaked face.

But he didn’t leave.

“I need to apologize,” he said, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You clenched your jaw, anger and humiliation swirling inside you. “I don’t need your pity, Minho. Just leave me alone.”

But his voice came again, insistent. “Please. I shouldn’t have said that. It was out of line.”

Something about the raw sincerity in his tone gave you pause. Slowly, you stood and walked to the door, hesitating before unlocking it.

When you opened it, Minho was leaning against the frame, his usual smirk replaced by something almost apologetic. His eyes flickered to your puffy, tear-streaked face, and his jaw tightened.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You crossed your arms, trying to keep your voice steady. “Why do you care?”

Minho hesitated, his gaze softening. “Because I know what it’s like to be alone on Christmas.”

The admission caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stared at him.

“I’m serious,” he added, his voice quieter now. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was being an ass, and—"

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. Before you knew it, you were crying again, the weight of the evening too much to hold back.

Minho stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate. “—Hey,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him. He hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his arms around you, holding you tightly. The warmth of his embrace broke something inside you, and you clung to him as if he were the only thing keeping you afloat.

Minho held you close, his arms steady and sure, like he was the only anchor keeping you from falling apart. The quiet between you was heavy but not uncomfortable; his presence alone was enough to steady your trembling breaths. His hand moved gently up and down your back, offering a kind of comfort you hadn’t realized you craved.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into his chest, your voice muffled.

“For what?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“For being a mess.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes softened as they searched yours, and for the first time, you saw something other than irritation or smugness—something tender.

“You’re not a mess,” he murmured. “You’re human.”

The sincerity in his voice made your throat tighten, and before you could think twice, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his shoulder, inhaling the faint scent of his cologne.

“Come on,” he said gently, his hands steadying you as he guided you toward the couch. “Sit down. Let me help.”

He left briefly, and you heard the soft clink of glasses. When he returned, he handed you a glass of water and a blanket, sitting beside you with a closeness that felt intentional.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said, your voice still fragile.

“I wanted to.” His reply was simple, but his tone carried weight.

The room was quiet as you sipped the water, his eyes never leaving you. The soft glow of the Christmas lights from your small tree cast warm shadows across his face, making him look softer, more vulnerable.

“You’re different tonight,” you said softly, daring to glance at him.

His lips twitched, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners. “So are you.”

The silence stretched again, but this time it was charged, buzzing with something unspoken.

“Minho,” you began, your voice hesitant, but he interrupted you by reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment too long, making heat creeping to your cheeks, redish hue appear within a second.

“You deserve better than this,” he said quietly.

You blinked at him, startled. “What do you mean?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely at your apartment, the wine bottles on the counter, the loneliness hanging in the air. “Being alone on Christmas. Feeling like you don’t have anyone. You deserve someone who cares.”

The vulnerability in his voice stunned you.

“Do you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Care, I mean?”

His eyes darkened slightly as they locked onto yours. “More than I should.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The space between you seemed to shrink as the tension thickened. He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice low, his gaze flickering to your lips.

But you didn’t want him to stop.

Instead of answering, you leaned forward, closing the gap between you. Your lips met his in a kiss that was hesitant at first, testing the waters, but quickly deepened as you both gave in to the pull that had been simmering between you for weeks.

Minho’s hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as you shifted onto his lap. His lips were soft but insistent, exploring yours with a passion that sent a shiver down your spine. Your fingers tangled in his hair, eliciting a low sound from him that made your stomach flip.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his breath warm against your lips as he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours.

You nodded, your heart pounding. “Yes.”

He kissed you again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second. He stood, carrying you effortlessly toward your bedroom, his movements careful and intentional.

Once inside, he laid you gently on the bed, his hands brushing over your skin like he was memorizing every inch of you. The way he looked at you—like you were something precious—made your chest tighten.

His touch was both tender and consuming, each kiss and caress unraveling the stress and pain that had been weighing you down for so long. The intimacy of it all made your heart ache in the best way.

It wasn’t just about the physical connection—it was about the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like it was sacred, the way he made you feel seen, cherished.

His lips moved to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You shivered, your body responding to his touch even before you could think. Minho’s hands caressed the curves of your body, each movement slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every inch of you. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting something inside of you that had been dormant for far too long.

"Minho..." You whispered his name, your voice trembling as your fingers slid to the waistband of his pants, grabing his clothed cock making him groan from the contact.

"Fuck, Princess."

He kissed you again, his lips claiming yours with a hunger that made your pulse spike. You felt his body pressing against yours, his muscles flexing as he leaned into you. His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, his hands sliding down your sides, pulling you closer to him until you could feel the heat of his body, hands trailing to tug on your sweater, getting rid of it in a swift motion, leaving you in your black lacy bra.

When he pulled away for just a second, his dark eyes searched yours, his chest rising and falling with each breath. "You're so beautiful” he said, his voice low and raspy, full of an almost dangerous edge.

He squeze your tits from outside of your bra, your body aching for him in a way you couldn’t deny. "Minh, please.”

With a growl, he kissed you again, his hands rough as they worked quickly to remove the last remnants of your clothes. You felt the heat of his skin against yours, his fingertips trailing down the curve of your spine before they slid to your hips, pulling you closer as his mouth moved over your collarbone, his kisses becoming more desperate.

Every kiss he gave, every movement of his hands, felt like it was igniting something inside of you, a need that you hadn’t realized had been building up for so long. You moaned softly, your hands running over his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingertips.

He responded with a groan of his own, his mouth returning to yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. The air between you grew thick with desire, the tension so palpable you could hardly breathe. His hands moved to your back, gently pushing you back onto the bed, his body following you, never breaking the connection.

As he hovered over you, his lips brushing against your ear, he whispered, “I want you, all of you.”

You felt the heat rush to your cheeks as his words sank in, the meaning behind them making your heart race even faster. “Then take me,” you responded, your voice low and demanding, feeling a surge of confidence you hadn’t known you had.

Without another word, Minho moved over you, his hands and lips tracing the line of your body with a sense of urgency, like he couldn’t wait any longer. He drag his waist band You felt the pressure of his body against yours, he run his heavy cock along your folds, squelching sound coming from the contact signing how wet you are already, "Holly fuck baby, do you hear that? Mmh all wet for me" he said, still teasing your drench cunt. The heat between you both becoming almost unbearable.

Minho finally align his tip to your enterance, pushing it in to your clenching hole, earning a trail of moan from both of you.

"Ahh minhh," Your fingers dug into his back, urging him on as you kissed him with the same urgency, your body moving against his in rhythm.

His movements grew faster, more desperate, as he sought to claim you in the way that only he could. You could feel every inch of him as he slid deeper, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp with pleasure. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as your body trembled beneath him.

"Minho mmh," his name slipped from your lips in a soft, breathless cry, and the sound of it seemed to drive him wild. He growled low in his throat, his hips snapping against yours with a relentless intensity. You met him with every thrust, your body responding to him in ways you couldn’t control, the pleasure building, escalating with each movement.

"Minho... fuckh you're gonna make me cumhh," you gasped, the heat of your bodies colliding with an intensity that took your breath away.

He groaned, his name slipping from your lips in a way that made his pulse quicken. The sound of your voice, the way you were calling out for him, drove him to the edge. He leaned down, kissing you deeply, his tongue claiming yours in a dance that matched the rhythm of your bodies.

"Cum for me kitten, cum" he said, hips pistoning to hit the certain spot that makes you see the stars.

As the pleasure built to an unbearable peak, you felt the tension inside of you snap, "Minhh ahh FUCK," your body convulsing in waves of ecstasy.

"Fuck, fuck fuck shit baby s'goodh mmhh" Minho followed you over the edge, his body trembling as he gave in to the moment, his own release consuming him.

You both lay there, breathless and tangled in each other's arms, your bodies still pressed together, the warmth of his skin against yours grounding you in the reality of the moment. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

Minho’s hand moved to your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you gently, the softness of the kiss in stark contrast to the fiery intensity of what had just happened.

“I care about you,” he murmured, his lips brushing over yours once more. “More than you know.”

You looked up at him, the vulnerability in your chest now replaced with something deeper, something stronger. You smiled softly, your hands running over his back, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

"I care about you too," you whispered, your voice full of quiet certainty.

And as the two of you lay together, tangled in the aftermath, you realized that this wasn’t just a night of passion. It was a turning point—one that would change everything between you. It was the beginning of something real, something lasting, and for the first time in a long time, you felt at home.

Make a brief synopsis for this story

#lee know smut #lee know #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee know x you #stray kids #stray kids imagines #lee know imagines #lee minho #lee minho smut #skz smut #skz imagines #skz x reader

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traveler-at-heart · 1 month ago

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Speak or die?

Summary: You have a crush on your poetry professor.

Professor Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request by @jujuu23 :) Hope you like it

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted—nevermore!

Professor Romanoff closes the book, the classroom silent as she walks to the front. Her raspy voice had a way of enchanting people, and it almost felt like she had cast a spell on everyone.

“Thoughts?” she asks, adjusting her glasses. Her beautiful features are framed by a couple of strands of fiery hair, the rest of it tied in a messy bun.

A couple of people lean back on their seats, nervous about being called to participate.

“What a weirdo” Barnes says, and some of your classmates laugh.

“Thank you, for that very insightful analysis, Mr. Barnes. Any other thoughts you’d like to share with the class?”

Before he can speak again and say something even more stupid, you jump in.

“It’s about madness, caused by grief. About his beloved, who he’ll never forget but is gone. It’s the same theme in Annabel Lee and Lenore. Though I think Annabel Lee is a lot less haunting… there’s a certain serene beauty to it.”

“Very good, Miss Y/L/N. And of course, we have the references to Pallas Athena. Not uncommon for Allan Poe to mention Greek mythology. Your next assignment will be to find and discuss examples of mythology and classical literature within his work”

As everyone leaves the room, you walk next to the professor’s desk.

“I’ve enjoyed your essay. Well, both of them” she says.

“Both?” you stop, looking confused.

“It’s very obvious your boyfriend is not writing his papers” she tries to keep her composure, but finds it irritating that someone as bright as you is with Barnes of all people.

“Oh, Bucky? Yeah, I might have helped him a bit… not my boyfriend, though”

You think it’s best to leave out the fact he enrolled in this class to meet pretty girls and act like he knows about poetry.

“Well, he should still do his own homework” Natasha says, this time with a kinder tone. “And nice work today”

“Thank you” you nod, smiling as you leave the classroom.

You hope Professor Romanoff didn’t notice the way you were blushing at her praise.

—

Natasha glances at her cozy living room one last time. It’s a crisp autumn night, and she could still cancel her plans and stay home with a good book and a glass of wine.

But she’d never hear the end of it, would she?

The woman takes a cab to the gallery downtown, hoping the evening ends early and she can at least read a chapter or two of her novel before bed.

As she enters the crowded space, Natasha feels the need to turn around and leave. Carol’s voice stops her.

“Fancy meeting you here”

“Yelena made me do it” the redhead explains, standing next to her colleague and friend.

“Well, she’s quite the artist. You should be proud of your sister” Carol says, looking around the room until she finds the younger woman. Natasha nods her thanks and walks to her sister, smiling.

“You made it!” Yelena, who was explainig her sculpture to a man, stops mid sentence and hugs Natasha. “I thought you’d find a way to stay home and avoid being out”

“I promised I’d be here. Go. I’ll have a look around” Natasha says when another woman walks up to Yelena.

“Try the appetizers, they’re really good!” Yelena says before going up to meet a group of art dealers.

It’s a big night for the Art Department. They have been planning this exhibit for months now. Plenty of critics and art dealers would stop by, hoping to find the next big name.

Natasha walks around, eyeing the paintings and sculptures in the room. Distracted by a very abstract work, she fails to notice another person walking behind her until her back collides with a shoulder.

“Sorry” she turns, surprised at meeting your eyes and friendly smile.

“Hi, Professor Romanoff” you greet. “How are you liking the exhibit?”

“It’s good. What are you doing here?”

“College paper business. And to support my roommate, Wanda” you point at a couple of paintings, with very dark themes and distorted faces. “She’s uh… going through her misunderstood artist phase”

“Well, she’s certainly committed to it” Natasha says, looking at the girl who must be Wanda, dark hair and smokey eyes giving her a grunge look.

“She’s a sweetheart” you promise, knowing that’s only one side of her. You’ve seen her cry over The Dick Van Dyke show, for heaven’s sake. Though you promised you’d never tell anyone. “Want to be on the record for me?”

“How so?”

“Just tell me what you think of the exhibit. Or the department in general” you shrug your shoulders. “It’s good that other faculty members are here”

“Well, I’ve known Carol for years, back when we were both students. She’s very committed to her work and advancing the curriculum, so it’s great to see an amazing selection tonight. My sister seems to think a great deal of the success is due to Danvers”

“Your sister?”

“Yelena Belova” Natasha clarifies. At hearing that name, you blush and she immediately assumes that something happened between you two.

The reality is, you’ve spoken about how much you love your poetry professor in front of Yelena on more than one occasion. Now you understand why she laughed so hard when you said Natasha was Aphrodite reincarnate.

That little shit.

“Yeah, I know Yel. Wanda and her hang at the dorm, I mean, we all do” you trip over your words, picking up a glass of red wine to ease your nerves.

“You sure you can handle that?” Natasha asks, appreciating the way your cheeks blush at the taste of the alcohol.

“It’s fine” you lick your lips, missing the way Natasha follows the movement with her eyes.

“Well, it’s nice to know Yelena has someone with common sense to keep her grounded” Natasha says and inspite of your internal struggle, you smile.

In that moment, Carol clinks her glass gently, getting everyone’s attention. As she speaks, you try to listen to her words -the toast should be mentioned in the article- but your mind is focused on Natasha’s parfum, and the warmth of her body as she stands next to you. Once Danvers is done, everyone claps and you take a breath, thinking it might be a good idea to get some fresh air.

“Sestra, there you are” Yelena walks up to you two, a knowing smirk at your affected state. “I’d introduce you but I believe you already know each other”

“Yeah” you smile, looking anywhere but Natasha. “I’ll leave you to it, gotta talk to a couple more people. Enjoy your evening”

Yelena doesn’t move, so you’re forced to walk very close to Natasha, and the moment your eyes meet you almost forget how to breathe.

The redhead doesn’t miss the way your pupils are blown or the not so subtle way in which you glance at her lips.

She wants to reach out and grab your wrist, turn you around and devour your lips in a messy kiss. Instead, she sees you walk towards your friend.

“See? Aren’t you glad I made you come out of your cave?”

Apparently, your crush wasn’t one sided after all.

—

The school paper. Natasha barely paid attention to it, even when it was delivered every Monday to her office, same as every faculty member at Lang University.

This time, she is eager to open it and read your article. There it is, your name and a very long piece about the exhibit. Your prose is exquisite, and you didn’t just deliver an event summary; it’s a deep dive into the department, budget cuts and how students and professors are investing their own resources to keep the course alive.

Right under the dean’s nose. Natasha has to smile; it’s true that Howard Stark was more inclined to favor the Science department and a number of protests had gone unanswered on his side. Most of them came from tenured professors, as part time teachers and students were concerned with some sort of retaliation.

Not you, though.

Natasha is so focused on the article that she misses the knock on her door until Fury comes in.

“Romanoff” he greets. “Picking up on some light reading?”

“Something very entertaining” she turns the pages to show your article and he chuckles.

“She’s got balls” he recognises. “Heard she was talking about it with some art dealers who donate to the university. Apparently Stark is listening now”

“I’m happy to hear that”

“That’s not why I’m here, though” Fury sits down, crossing his legs. “The Foster Grant”

“What about it?” Natasha says, playing dumb. She hates to be the center of attention. “I know I got it, it’s no big deal”

“It is to the department. We don’t want to be the next on the list of budget cuts”

“Maybe we’ll just have to ask Y/N to write an article for us” she jokes, but Fury just smirks knowingly.

“Great idea! Let’s have her write something about your work and the research you’ve been doing” he slaps his knee, standing up.

“What?”

“Well, don’t look at me like that, it was your idea, Romanoff. Better be this week so it’s on next Monday’s edition” he winks, leaving her office whistling.

As usual, Natasha is blindsided by her boss. How on Earth will she manage a conversation alone with you?

Still, Fury leaves no room for argument, and at the end of Tuesday’s class, you approach her desk.

“I was told you had an assignment for me” you say, biting your lip nervously.

“Yes, that’s right. Something about a research grant, it’s really not a big deal. Sorry that Fury put you up to it” she dismisses the thing like it’s a nuissance.

“I don’t mind at all. Just wanted to check if… when do you want to meet. And where. It would be better around Thursday so I can come prepared with questions and then write everything over the weekend. But I’ll adjust to your schedule”

“Thursday is fine by me” Natasha nods. “My office? Last class is at 5, so maybe 6”

“Yeah, sounds good” you nod, blushing. “See you then, professor”

How will you survive this?

—

Thursday comes faster than you’d like, and you’re inspecting your wardrobe as if you’re going on a first date.

Everythig’s too ugly. Why do you have such ugly clothes?

Ugh, I should just cancel.

In the end, you opt for a preppy look, with a black skirt and thights, choosing a black and white stripped sweater for the cold weather.

You run into Yelena and Wanda in the living room.

“Where are you going so fancy?” the blonde says, whistling and forcing you to twirl so she can have a 360 of your outfit. “You’re going on a date, aren’t you?”

Wanda, who actually knows about your appointment, covers her mouth to keep from laughing and you glare at her.

“Don’t”

“What? Is it someone I know?” Yelena looks between the two of you.

“Yes. It’s your sister” Wanda finally cracks.

“It’s not a date!” you rush to say when Yelena turns to look at you. “I’m writing an article about her research”

“Mmm, right” she nods, not believing you. “She asked about you the other day, you know?”

“She did? I mean, what did she want to know?” you try to pretend it’s no big deal.

“She asked if we hooked up. I told her you’re not my type”

“Oh, please. I’m everyone’s type” you huff, picking up your bag before you run late. You still want to stop by the cafeteria.

“You’re certainly Natasha’s” Yelena mumbles, but you miss it. “Good luck on your non date with my sister”

“Not a date… although, what’s her coffee order?”

“I’ll tell you if you admit it’s a date”

By the time you finally get Yelena to answer, you’re ten minutes late, walking around campus with two coffees and cookies. Knocking with your elbow, you hear a soft come in and figure out how to open the door.

Juggling everything, you walk into Natasha’s office.

“Let me help you” the woman says, standing up and rushing to your side. You hand over the cup with her name. “For me?”

“Yes”

“Thank you. I’m sorry, I should be the one with a drink to offer. How did you know?” she licks her lips, appreciating the sweet flavor of the caramel macchiato. Her glasses fog from the warmth of the drink and you have to resist the urge to kiss her.

“I asked Yelena” you admit. “Glad to know she wasn’t pranking me”

“I do have a sweet tooth”

“No worries, I won’t write anything about it” you take a notepad and your phone to record. “May I?”

“Please” Natasha settles behind her desk, appreciating that cute little frown that always appears when you’re focused. You go over your notes for a minute and then nod, ready to begin.

The hour goes by quickly, and Natasha feels proud when she notices you’ve stopped taking notes, genuinely interested and asking about everything she’s been researching for the past year and a half.

“Oh, it’s getting late. I’m so sorry for keeping you here” you apologize, looking at the time.

“That’s ok, I’m free for the rest of the evening. I cleared my schedule just for you”

The words make your heart flutter. Of course she doesn’t mean anything by it, but how you wished she did.

“So, do you have time for a couple more questions?”

“Sure”

For you, she has all the time in the world. Natasha could spend all night watching you put that lose strand of hair behind your ear, while you write down your thoughts.

It’s dangerously endearing.

“I’d like to know… your favorite poem” you ask, more for yourself than for the article.

Natasha takes a deep breath, standing up and walking around her desk. She speaks as she approaches you, in that soft, tender tone that always makes your heart skip a beat.

“I loved you; even now I may confess,

Some embers of my love their fire retain;

But do not let it cause you more distress,

I do not want to sadden you again.

Hopeless and tongue-tied, yet I loved you dearly

With pangs the jealous and the timid know;

So tenderly I loved you, so sincerely,

I pray God grant another love you so”

Natasha looks into your eyes as she sits on the edge of the desk, mere inches away from you.

In truth, you had expected her to answer with the poem’s title, not recite it to you so passionately.

“Pushkin” you sigh, looking at your hands.

“Very good” she praises, which makes you blush even harder. “It sounds better in Russian, though”

“I can imagine” you say, torn between wanting to hear it or not. You might lose your last sliver of self control if she speaks her native language.

“Is there anything else you need from me?”

You need to kiss her, discover how her lips feel against yours. Hold her hand, guide her up your skirt…

“Yes. I… mean, no, I have everything I need, professor” you snap out of your thoughts, looking flustered. “Thank you so much for making the time to speak to me”

“I always have time for my best student” she says, standing up and walking you to the door. “I’m looking forward to reading your article”

“I’ll try to live up to the expectations”

“I’m sure you will” she says gently, leaning against the threshold of the door. You look at her lips one last time before stepping back, wishing the evening could be prolonged.

Natasha watches you walk away, already missing your presence.

—

You spend the weekend reliving the interview. Thank God you kept recording when Natasha recited Pushkin, because now you have it for posterity.

The article is done, has been since you got back to your dorm. The words flowed effortlessly as you remembered everything Natasha said, and so you spent all night writing and correcting it until it was perfect. Even your editor was impressed when you sent it over.

Now, all that’s left is you, the recording and the view from your window. You listen to Natasha over and over again, hoping her presence migh somehow slip into your subconscious and then, she’ll be in your dreams as well.

As if you had summoned her, Natasha appears outside your window, walking with Yelena. As her sister walks into your building to meet with Wanda, Natasha looks up, waving at you. You remove your headphones, blushing at the fact that you were just listening to her speak on the recording.

“How’s the article coming along?”

“Signed, sealed, delivered” you smile. “I do hope you’ll like it”

“It will be the first thing I read tomorrow” she promises, saying goodbye. This time, you don’t bother to hide the fact that you’re staring as she leaves, and a little part of you feels like Juliet, watching Romeo walk away.

Forbidden love.

No, not forbidden. Unrequited.

With a sigh, you walk away and join your friends, thinking it’s better to distract yourself now that you remember Natasha Professor Romanoff is out of your reach.

Still, you can only fall asleep as you listen to her reciting that poem over and over again. And when you wake up, the resolve to see her again overcomes every fiber of your being.

So you walk up to her office, knowing very well she’s there at break of dawn.

“Y/N” she says, looking at the paper in your hands. “Come in”

“I thought you’d like to read it. But maybe you’re busy. And you won’t like it or it’s not a big deal to you” you rant, handing it over and turning to leave. “Never mind”

“Stay” is all she says, hand reaching for your wrist. Your heart skips a beat at the contact and you nod, trying to ease your nerves.

Natasha sits on her small sofa to read the article, and you’re too anxious so you walk around her office, examining the bookshelves. As you approach her desk, you focus on an open book, some notes scribbled along the margins.

“I love it” Natasha says, standing right behind you. You jump, so absorbed by the book that you didn’t hear her stand up and come close to you. She’s now reading over your shoulder. “It’s the Heptameron, by Marguerite de Navarre. I was working on a translation from the German edition”

You can now see the sheet of paper next to the page, Natasha’s writing looking rushed as if she fears the words will be taken by the wind. With a shaky voice, you break the sudden silence in the room, reading the story.

“A handsome young knight is madly in love with a princess

And she too is in love with him

Though she seems not to be entirely aware of it

Despite the friendship that blossoms between them or

Perhaps because of that very friendship

The young knight finds himself

So humbled and speechless

That he's totally unable to bring up the subject of his love

Till one day he asks the princess point blank

Is it better to speak or to die?”

“I found myself thinking a lot about unrequited love this weekend. And so I remembered this little thing” she says in a low voice. “What do you think is better? Speak or die?”

“I think that depends, Professor” you sigh, feeling her hand against your lower back.

“Depends… on what?” she whispers against your ear, making you shiver. “Should I speak about all the times I think of you, of how endearing and wonderful and intriguing you are to me?”

You turn around, cornered against her desk. Natasha’s hands traces a path down your arm, and takes your hand, lifting it to her lips. Your eyes follow the movement, and a sigh leaves your lips at the soft kiss she places on the back of your hand.

“Should I speak about how I wonder what it would be like to kiss you, taste you, mark you, until you’re chanting my name like a prayer?”

This time, her hand travels to your lips, pupils dilating as you allow her to invade your mouth with her finger, sucking gently until she retrieves it, pulling you by the waist.

“Should I speak, then? Or shall we keep pretending neither one of us wants this?” she whispers against your lips. You close your eyes, taking a breath to steady your heart. Her touch, her words, is all too much and you’re afraid it’s all a perfect dream, and at any moment you’ll wake up, alone and desperate for her.

“Please…” you say, leaning forward and capturing her lips in a messy, frantic kiss. Dream or reality, you’ll take Natasha in whatever way you can.

Natasha craddles your face in her hands, spreading your legs apart with her knee. You whine incoherently at her surprising strenght, your hands balled up in fists around the fabric of her pristine shirt.

“You’re so perfect” she sighs against your lips. “So beautiful”

“Natasha” you plead, wanting to feel her against you, closer, harder. More, more, more until you’re on the brink of destruction and she’s all that exists.

“I want you. Do you want me?” she asks, and you catch the uncertainty in her tone.

“Of course I do”

If only she could feel how wet you are, all because of her touch.

But there’s a knock on the door, and you both look at the spot, alarmed. Natasha squeezes your hand to reassure you.

“Yes?”

“Just delivering the paper, Professor”

“Leave it outside, I’ll pick it up in a minute. Thank you”

You take a moment to breathe and fix your hair, aware that your lips are swollen from all the kissing.

You kissed your professor. Natasha Romanoff kissed you.

“Are you ok?” she asks, worried about your sudden silence.

“Just wondering if I’m about to wake up from a beautiful dream” you admit, and she smiles.

“Do you dream of me?” she teases, her hand reaching for yours.

“Only when I’m awake”

Natasha smiles, kissing your fingers.

“Would you like to have dinner with me? My place. This Friday”

“Yes. I’d love to”

There’s another knock on the door, but Fury doesn’t wait for Natasha to answer. You jump away from the woman, unsure if this could get her into trouble.

Luckily, Fury is busy inspecting the paper that was dropped outside of Natasha’s office and he doesn’t pick up on anything as he looks up.

“Miss Y/L/N. You wrote an amazing article. Brilliant”

“Thank you, Doctor Fury” you say. “I should head out, my Sociology class is starting soon”

Natasha smiles at you, hoping you understand how much she wishes you could carry on.

But the promise of more lingers in her eyes and so, as you take one last look at her, you return her smile.

“I’m happy the knight spoke, Professor. See you in class”

“See you in class, Miss Y/L/N”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you

401 notes · View notes

mallowsweetmiri · 2 months ago

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christmas miracle • fred weasley x reader

use #mallowsweetmicros to find my imagines!

Christmas at Hogwarts was your favorite time of year. Flurries outside your window, the crackling fires, the carols sung in the hallways. It all made you indescribably happy. Even the Gryffindor common room was decked out in garland and floating ornaments, the smell of fresh balsam in every corner. You sighed contentedly to yourself as you sat by the fire. Exams were finally over and you were set to head home on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow. Things couldn’t be better.

“Y/N!” You heard your name being called from the portrait hole. It was Fred, George, and Lee. You waved at them and sat up, readjusting your blanket on your lap. To your surprise, only Fred continued towards you, waving to the other boys as they headed towards their dorm. George and Lee sent cheeky smiles your way.

“Hi,” you smiled, moving your books from the couch so he could sit.

“Hi love,” he beamed, taking a seat next to you. You blushed at his nickname. Fred had always been overly affectionate with most people, but you were grateful to have experienced it. You craved it, his hugs and his nicknames. The way he slung his arm around you at the Three Broomsticks. It made you smile and you didn’t care if it was just the way he was. It made you feel special.

“Excited to go home?” You asked, watching as he settled in. His arm was draped over the back of the couch, his body turned towards you. You wished you could crawl into his lap, but you’d never have the courage to do so. Although, you doubted he’d mind.

“Yeah, of course,” he shrugged, the fire reflecting off his hair. “But I’m a little sad to leave this year.” You furrowed your brows and gave him a curious smile. It was hard not to smile with his contagious energy so close to you.

“Why is that?” You wondered aloud. He was usually boasting about going home to his mums cooking.

“To be honest, I wish I could spend Christmas with you,” he replied. You let out a huff as your smile grew without your knowledge.

“What?” You laughed, brushing your hair behind your ears in a feeble attempt to cool your blush.

“I’m sad I can’t watch you open my gift on actual Christmas,” he said, his voice soft and quiet. You shook your head at him, thoroughly confused. “But I figured two days before is close enough. So here, open it.” He grinned at you as he pulled out a small box from his pocket. You took it from him and bit your lip. It was small, rectangular, and fairly light. You pulled off the ribbon and opened the lid.

“Fred,” you gasped, pulling out the quill. “How did you even know I wanted this?” Your hand flew to cover your open mouth as you admired the pearl handled quill. You felt like Santa Claus had magically made your Christmas wish come true.

“I remember you admiring it when we were in Hogsmeade a few weeks ago,” Fred chuckled, watching you run a finger over the smooth surface of the grip. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you want something that badly before. I couldn’t help myself.” Your eyes ripped away from the beautiful gift and up towards Fred. “Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” You repeated. “Fred, this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” You flung your arms around him and buried yourself into his neck.

“Really,” he chuckled. “A quill is the best gift you’ve ever gotten?” You nodded you head into his shoulder.

“It’s not just a quill, it’s a beautiful quill. And-” it’s from you. You couldn’t exactly say that though, so you settled for, “I didn’t get you a gift!” You gasped and pulled abruptly out of the hug. Fred only chuckled again and held your arm from pulling away too far.

“It’s fine, Y/N. Seeing you happy with your present is more than enough for me,” he murmured, his voice laced with affection. Your blush deepened under his touch, his eyes holding yours captive. You were dizzy with realization. It was a Christmas miracle. Fred Weasley liked you back.

“Wait,” you said, reaching into your bag to grab your wand. “I think I have something for you.” You flicked your wand up, casting a flicker of red and green magic above you. It was a silly charm you had been practicing for fun, but now your festive spirit was proving worthwhile. Fred watched as the mistletoe took shape, his mouth slightly parted as his eyes fixed on the delicate bristle. You bit your lip to hold your smile as you watched his face flush red. You would certainly be replaying that image in your mind over the holiday.

“How did you learn to do that?” Fred asked in wonderment, still gaping at the red bowed mistletoe.

“I taught myself before December,” you chuckled. “Y’know. Just in case someone needed it.” Fred chuckled as his eyes settled back on you.

“I wish I’d known about this earlier,” he murmured, his hand moving from your shoulder to your cheek. “If I’d known how to cast this, I would’ve done it on December 1st.” He leaned forward gently, pressing his lips against yours with adoration. He was warm and sweet like hot cocoa, his lips moving against yours with an impossible gentleness. The kiss was unhurried and soft, and it practically melted you into the couch. When he pulled away, your body betrayed you, a soft whine escaping your pouted lips. Fred chuckled and pressed another kiss to your cheek.

“Did you like my gift?” You asked sheepishly, your rosey cheeks warming Fred’s heart. He smiled as the mistletoes shape shimmered and fell over the two of you.

“This is definitely the best gift I’ve ever received.”

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huellitaa · 2 months ago

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pretty girl winter 🧁❄️🎀

ok so winter is my FAVOURITE season ever!! i am THE christmas girl of all time and i wna make this the most beautiful pink christmas ever! and i am so excited to spend it with my favourite people ever (my tumblr girls) ❄️🩷

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ winter music ♡

sweet dreams, tomorrow x together

last christmas, ariana grande

sleigh ride, the ronettes

merry & happy, twice

beautiful christmas, red velvet / aespa

santa tell me, ariana grande

doughnut, twice

winter wonderland, beabadoobee

jingle bell rock, bobby helms / aespa

rocking around the christmas tree, brenda lee

let it snow! let it snow! let it snow!, dean martin

have yourself a merry little christmas, judy garland

christmas dreaming, laufey

one more sleep, leona lewis

cindy lou who, sabrina carpenter

(🎀🗒 note: i also have a playlist filled with lots of these songs and music here! ♡)

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ winter beauty ♡

moisturiser moisturiser moisturiser. hand cream is also a must so they dont get cracked and dry, especially in the winter! ❄️🫶🏻🩷

i dont take cold showers in the winter bcuz i get ill easily , so i always take warm showers w 30 seconds of cold at the end 💭🎀💗

vanilla, cinnamon, musk, chocolate, pomegranate, cherry, pudding and sweet, rich scents 💭🐧🫶🏻

makeup in pale pink, white, soft gold, silver, lots of sparkles, dewy and light

red lip gloss / stick is an essential! 💭🎀

🎄𓂃 ࣪˖ winter fashion ♡

fluffy coats!!!!! i personally love my massive black trenchcoat its v cute

scarves, hats, gloves, etc ♡ 🎀🧸

leggings, tights, long socks, leg warmers, etc. (i esp love sheer tights!)💭

anything faux-fur lined

pink, silver, gold, and white ♡

boots, uggs, doc martens, clunky shoes!

🎀💭❄️ simple formula to a cute winter fit:

skirt -> tights -> long sleeves -> coat -> shoes

(long sleeves can be anything from turtleneck to jumper, tights can be leggings / long socks or whatever you like, and the same goes for shoes! this is an easily versatile idea, not one size fits all 🫶🏻)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ winter movies ♡

muppet christmas carol!!!!!♡ my fav ever

the nightmare before christmas

beauty and the beast: the enchanted christmas

the miracle on 34th street

the grinch (live and animated)

jingle all the way

the polar express

home alone

mean girls (not a christmas film, but the jingle bell rock scene is iconic)

(🎀🗒 note: one thing i like to do is compile a list of all ur favourite shows and their christmas / winter episodes and just binge watch all of them!! 🩷🫶🏻🎄🧸)

🌨𓂃 ࣪˖ winter activities ♡

i love journalling and scrapbooking at any time of year, but i feel like it's always extra cosy in winter! playing some christmas music, cuddling up in pink pyjamas and journalling 🫶🏻🎀🩷

anything to do with baking and hot food is so cosy; gingerbread houses and hot chocolate, christmas cupcakes !! 🎄🫶🏻

i dont really know what category this falls into, but around christmas time i always love to make things about my family and friends; painting, decorating photos and hanging them up, journalling about them, and so on ! 💭💝❄️

make a list of all the people you're getting christmas presents for this year and compile a little bundle of things for them! 💗💭

learn about old winter tales and folklore, fron your culture or from others 🌨🎀

take up sewing, knitting, crocheting, etc. even if you've never done it before 🩷🧸

christmas market hopping!!!!!! one of my favourite things to do in winter is go out with my friends, go shopping and just browse the stalls bcuz theyre always so cute and cosy 🧁🐧💗

writing & making christmas cards ❄️🎀

unnecessary acts of kindness! this should go without saying for majority of the time, but i always love to go the extra mile during christmas to keep with the spirit and everything 🫶🏻🧸🎄

ice skating. obviously. i wanna go w my friends this year !!! 🎀⛸️🧁☃️

all my love, and happy december! 🎄🎀🫶🏻💗

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 11 months ago

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Masterlist & Request Guidelines

Requests are closed right now, but the Masterlist is always open! 🫶🏻

MASTERLIST

Olivia Benson (Law & Order: SVU)

Can You Stay?

Texts from Olivia Benson

Eyes Open

When Worlds Collide (x daughter!reader)

Alex Blake (Criminal Minds)

What You Want (18+)

Inside Your Head

Texts from Alex Blake

Haircut

Alex Cabot (Law & Order: SVU)

Alex Cabot x Reader Headcanons

After General Anesthesia

Alex Cabot x Casey Novak x Reader SFW Headcanons

What You Give

Texts from Alex Cabot (18+)

Carol Danvers (Marvel)

Forgetting

Find Your People (x sibling!reader)

Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn Nine-Nine)

A Hard Day

Just Playing

Headcanons: Coming Out to Rosa Diaz as Transmasc

Passenger Princess

A Little Lunch

Penelope Garcia (Criminal Minds)

N/A

Lee Harker (Longlegs)

Cocooned

The Halloween Party

Jennifer Jareau (Criminal Minds)

The Dogs

The Intruder

Fight or Flight (x daughter!reader)

Texts from Jennifer "JJ" Jareau (18+)

The Aftermath

Johanna Mason (The Hunger Games)

Home Again

Casey Novak (Law & Order: SVU)

Clueless

Someone Will See

First Time (18+)

Sunday Mornings

She Likes You Anyway

Empty House (18+)

You're Safe Now

Home for the Holidays

Take Me Out to the Ball Game (18+)

I Need You To

Your Brother's Wedding

Casey Novak x Reader Headcanons

After General Anesthesia

Panic! At the DA's Office

Alex Cabot x Casey Novak x Reader SFW Headcanons

May the Fourth Be With You

Changes

With the Crack of a Bat

Just One Kiss

Texts from Casey Novak

They Go Low

Getting Older, Too

Interrogations

When Worlds Collide

Frozen Oranges

Maggie Pierce (Grey's Anatomy)

Just as Friends

Emily Prentiss (Criminal Minds)

The Surprise Series Masterlist

Coming Out

Let Me Keep You Safe (18+)

Emily Prentiss x Reader Headcanons

Shelter from the Storm

Don't Lie to Me

Burning (18+)

Tracing You

Tiny (x daughter!reader)

Doxxed

Control (18+)

The World's Largest Box of Condoms (x daughter!reader)

Touchy (18+)

Texts from Emily Prentiss (18+)

White Fang

Arizona Robbins (Grey's Anatomy)

N/A

Natasha Romanoff (Marvel)

N/A

Amelia Shepherd (Grey's Anatomy)

Sick Call

Aces

Tea for Two

Strap Up (18+)

Postpartum (18+)

Playing It Safe (18+)

You're Mine (18+)

The R Word

Left Unsaid (18+)

Texts from Amelia Shepherd (18+)

Callie Torres (Grey's Anatomy)

N/A

Cristina Yang (Grey's Anatomy)

N/A

REQUEST GUIDELINES

If you have requests for characters outside of the above, please feel free to send them on anyway! The above are just characters I've written for before. If I'm familiar with the character/source material and the request meets my parameters, I'll be happy to give it a shot!

PARAMETERS:

I only write for characters who are women. No men here. Sorry, folks.

I only write x reader. I don't really enjoy writing about already-existing relationships or character ships. I've done a couple of x daughter!reader and x sibling!reader fics, and I'm happy to do them, but to be honest I very much prefer romantic fics.

I only write for readers and characters with v*lvas. I absolutely welcome non-binary/gender non-conforming characters/readers. Just be aware that, where smut is concerned, I only feel confident writing about humans with v*ginas.

I don't feel comfortable writing dark!characters or smut that's degrading. Kinks and other smut-related requests I take on a case-by-case basis. But I absolutely will not write anything that even gets close to the line of non-consensual. No shade to you if the above are things you enjoy reading/writing, they're just personally not for me.

Autistic readers are so welcome! I love reading and writing x autistic!reader fics!

I do feel comfortable writing about the aftermath of trauma (sexual or otherwise), most mental illnesses, etc. I enjoy a good hurt/comfort fic and, as someone who's dealt with both of the above, I know it can be very comforting to read something that makes you feel like you're cared for and safe.

I also really enjoy writing headcanons, so feel free to request those as well! The same rules apply for headcanons that apply for fics.

Send those requests on, bbs!

#fanfic #fanfic writers #fanfic requests #x reader #x reader fics #x autistic reader #autistic writers #law and order svu #svu #criminal minds #grey's anatomy

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autisticshadowthehedgehog · 6 months ago

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The original meaning of the term "Final Girl," from 1987's "Her Body, Himself: Gender in the Slasher Film" by Carol J. Clover, was "a woman who is a sole survivor of a group who are chased by the villain, and who gets the final confrontation with said villain [whether she wins or not is not considered] because of some implied moral superiority." As an example, Jamie Lee Curtis's character of Laurie Strode in 1978's Halloween is the sole survivor of the teenagers that Michael Myers hunts, and gets the climactic scene with him, though she's not the one who defeats him. Her character is the only one of her friend group who does not (onscreen at least) partake in drugs, alcohol or sexual activity.

The term "final girl" has expanded over the years, often losing the moral superiority clause (see: Sidney Prescott in Scream, Maxine in X) or having other survivor(s) so long as the girl gets the final confrontation (the sisters in the recent Scream movies, Dana Polk in Cabin in the Woods). The most common deviation is losing the moral superiority clause, with the characters either being just as moral as their group or even being morally in the wrong but still surviving as a subversion or deconstruction of the trope. A common addition is a prior connection to the villain, though this is not necessary.

With all that being said,

As always, Girl is a gender-neutral term when it comes to having fun. I decided not to count Knuckles because we don't know his full backstory in-game and the word-of-god answer is that his species died of disease, and also because he'd be the funny answer everyone would pick immediately so that doesn't count guys.

Important Notes to Consider:

Tikal:

Last Survivor: Somewhat. Other echidnas seem to have survived Chaos's attack, but Tikal was the last character alive shown onscreen, and the only other named characters in her time period did not survive.

Final Confrontation: Applies. She is the one to seal Chaos into the Master Emerald.

Moral Superiority: Applies. She's the only one in her tribe willing to stand up to her warmongering dad.

Shadow:

Last Survivor: Applies. While some people seem to have escaped the ARK massacre (like the Commander), all other named characters are either killed or captured and killed afterwards.

Final Confrontation: Debatable. There isn't actually a singular monster attacking the ARK, instead it's the entire military. Shadow however does get a confrontation with the Biolizard and later with Black Doom. Do they count for this though? You decide.

Moral Superiority: Not Applicable. Shadow isn't inherently morally above or below the other people on the ARK who died.

Cosmo:

Last Survivor: Mostly Applies. She is the last survivor specifically of her species. Everyone else in the Sonic Crew survives to the final confrontation, but her species is toast.

Final Confrontation: Applies. Cosmo is the last to interact with Dark Oak in the initial genocide, and the one to eventually defeat him (along with Tails, but really it was Cosmo's sacrifice that actually killed him).

Moral Superiority: Not Applicable. The rest of her species are portrayed as innocent and undeserving of their fate, and her survival was purely due to her fear making her accept a deal with Dark Oak and the implication that he's her father.

Silver:

Last Survivor: Mostly Applies. He and Blaze are the only seen survivors of Iblis's assault. Blaze absorbs Iblis and dips, but Silver does have a fight with Solaris in the final ending.

Final Confrontation: Somewhat. Blaze and Silver both boss fight Iblis, and Blaze gets the final confrontation and defeat. However, Silver partakes in the defeat of Solaris, who technically is Iblis.

Moral Superiority: Not Applicable. Silver isn't given moral superiority towards anyone who dies.

Sonic Forces Avatar:

Last Survivor: Somewhat. Avatar is the last survivor of their village due to them fleeing from Infinite. They join up with a group following this and assist Sonic in defeating Infinite.

Final Confrontation: Somewhat. Sonic is also there.

Moral Superiority: Debatable. Like Cosmo, the other civilians are portrayed as innocent and Avatar only escapes due to their perceived cowardice. They are shown to be Extra Special Besties with Sonic which helps them defeat Infinite through the power of Love, so that may count?

Whisper:

Last Survivor: Mostly Applies. Whisper is the last Diamond Cutter after Mimic kills her entire squad and betrays them. She goes solo until eventually confronting Mimic and then helping found a reformed Diamond Cutters.

Final Confrontation: Debatable. Mimic is still an active threat in the comics, but Whisper did get a climactic confrontation with him in Tangle & Whisper.

Moral Superiority: Not Applicable. Whisper only survived because Claire requested she stay behind due to her intuition.

Sonic in '06 specifically:

Last Survivor: Mostly Applies. Sonic is the only character who remembers that the '06 timeline occurred, making him the technical only survivor of its events. Ignore the fact he died at one point, he got better.

Final Confrontation: Mostly Applies. Sonic leads the attack against Solaris in the Final Boss fight, but Elise is the one to blow out the candle and reset the timeline.

Moral Superiority: Debatable. All the other characters are "heroes" but Sonic is the Biggest Best Hero Of Them All That The Chaos Emeralds Love Soooo Much, and he also is the one to selflessly insist on the timeline reset so that the whole Solaris Destruction Thing never happens.

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #final girl #tikal the echidna #shadow the hedgehog #cosmo the seedrian #cosmo the metarex #silver the hedgehog #sonic forces #whisper the wolf #sonic 06 #sonic idw #sonic adventure #sonic adventure 2 #sonic x #mine

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atlasthegreatest · 2 months ago

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A Winter Surprise / Park Jihyo x Gender Neutral! Reader

Jihyo is spending the holiday season feeling melancholic due to her long-distance partner's inability to visit for Christmas, as they claimed to be overwhelmed with work. And despite her friend's effort to cheer her up with holiday decorations and gifts, Jihyo struggles to hide her disappointment. But, unbeknownst to her, her partner and her friends have been secretly planning a surprise for her.

Word count: 3062

Warnings: None, only fluff. Established relationship. And Twice!

The first snow of the year fell gently over Seoul, blanketing the city in a quiet calm. Park Jihyo sat in the Twice dorm’s living room, her knees tucked to her chest as she gazed out the frosted window. The soft glow of fairy lights wrapped around the Christmas tree cast warm shadows on her face, but her usual bright smile was missing.

She turned her phone over in her hands, re-reading the last message from her partner— Lee Y/n:

“I’m so sorry, Jih. Work’s been crazy, and there’s no way I can make it to Seoul for Christmas this year. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

Jihyo’s chest tightened as she sighed deeply. It had been six months since they last saw each other, and while video calls and messages helped, they couldn’t replace the warmth of being together in person. This Christmas would’ve marked four years of their relationship—four years of laughter, love, and overcoming the challenges of long-distance. She had been looking forward to celebrating it with Y/n, but now she’d be spending the day without them.

Mina shuffled into the room, wrapped in a blanket like a burrito. “You okay, unnie?” she asked softly, perching on the armrest of the couch.

Jihyo smiled faintly. “I’m fine. Just… you know. Missing Y/n.”

Mina nodded, offering a comforting squeeze to Jihyo’s shoulder. “It’s tough, I know. But maybe we can make the day special together. All of us.”

“Yeah,” Jihyo said, though her voice lacked conviction.

—————————

The week leading up to Christmas passed in a blur of schedules, rehearsals, and holiday preparations. The other members had been unusually secretive, huddling together in corners and whispering plans that they refused to share with Jihyo. Even Nayeon, who usually couldn’t keep a secret to save her life, brushed off Jihyo’s questions with a mischievous grin.

“You’ll see,” Nayeon said one evening as she tied a large red bow around the Christmas tree.

Jihyo frowned but didn’t press further. She assumed it was just another one of their elaborate pranks or a surprise party.

—————————

Christmas Eve arrived, and the dorm was alive with the smell of cookies baking in the oven and the sound of carols playing on the speaker. Jihyo found herself smiling despite her lingering sadness. The girls had gone all out to make the holiday special, decorating the dorm with twinkling lights and garlands.

As the evening wound down, the members gathered in the living room, exchanging gifts and laughter. Jihyo received a cozy scarf from Jeongyeon, a custom diary from Dahyun, and a pair of matching gloves from Sana.

But as the clock struck midnight, signaling Christmas Day, her heart sank. She had been holding on to a small sliver of hope that maybe—just maybe—her partner would surprise her after all.

She excused herself from the group, retreating to the quiet of her room.

The next morning, Jihyo awoke to a series of soft knocks on her door. Groggily, she got up and opened it to find Tzuyu standing there with a sheepish smile.

“Unnie, come to the living room. There’s… something you need to see.”

Confused, Jihyo followed her, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. When she stepped into the room, her breath hitched.

Standing in front of the Christmas tree, holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers, was Y/n.

“Merry Christmas, Jihyo,” they said, their voice warm and full of emotion.

Jihyo froze, her hands flying to her mouth as tears filled her eyes. “What… how? You said you couldn’t come!”

Y/n stepped closer, setting the flowers down to pull her into a tight embrace. “It was a lie. I wanted to surprise you. The girls helped me plan everything.”

Overwhelmed, Jihyo clung to them, burying her face in their shoulder. “I missed you so much,” she whispered.

“I missed you too,” Y/n replied, their voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t let us spend this Christmas apart.”

Behind them, the other members cheered, clapping and laughing as they watched the reunion unfold. “Merry Christmas, Jihyo!” Nayeon called out, winking.

Jihyo pulled back slightly, her cheeks flushed and damp with tears. “You were all in on this?”

“Of course,” Chaeyoung said with a grin. “Anything for our leader.”

The day was filled with warmth, laughter, and joy. Jihyo and Y/n spent every moment together, catching up on lost time and exchanging heartfelt gifts. For the first time in months, Jihyo’s heart felt whole.

—————————

That night, as she stood on the balcony with Y/n, watching the snow fall, she leaned into their side with a contented sigh.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” she said softly.

Y/n kissed the top of her head, their arms wrapped around her protectively. “And it’s only the beginning.”

The gentle hum of the wind outside was the only sound as Jihyo and Y/n lingered on the balcony, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. Snowflakes kissed their skin before melting, and Jihyo tilted her face up to catch a few on her nose.

“You look like a kid,” Y/n teased, their voice filled with affection.

Jihyo laughed softly, her cheeks flushed from the cold—or maybe it was from the way they were looking at her. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this happy,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “You being here… it means everything.”

Y/n smiled, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I’d move mountains for you, Jihyo. I hated being away for so long. I knew I had to make this Christmas special for us, no matter what.”

Jihyo reached out, threading her fingers through theirs, the touch grounding her in a moment that felt almost too perfect to be real. “You did,” she said, her voice trembling with sincerity. “You made it unforgettable.”

A faint commotion from inside the dorm caught their attention. Jihyo turned to see Sana waving at them through the glass door, motioning for them to come back in.

“Come on, lovebirds! We’re doing karaoke!”

Jihyo groaned playfully, her head dropping to her partner’s shoulder. “They’re never going to let me live this down.”

Y/n chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “That’s what you get for being part of Twice. But hey, I wouldn’t mind seeing you sing.”

Back inside, the living room was a riot of noise and laughter. Jeongyeon was trying to belt out a ballad but kept cracking up midway, while Dahyun and Chaeyoung egged her on from the couch. Tzuyu and Mina were huddled together under a shared blanket, sipping on mugs of hot cocoa, while Nayeon, Momo, and Sana were locked in a playful argument over which Christmas duet they should perform next.

Jihyo shook her head with a smile as she and her partner joined the chaos.

“Jihyo, you and Y/n should do a duet!” Sana suggested, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

Before Jihyo could protest, Momo thrust a microphone into her hand. “Come on, leader-nim. Let’s see that golden voice in action!”

Y/n nudged her gently. “What do you say? One song?”

Jihyo sighed dramatically, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “Fine. But don’t blame me if I outshine you.”

The instrumental to a classic holiday love song began to play, and as Jihyo started to sing, her voice filled the room with warmth and emotion. Y/n joined in, their voice harmonizing with hers, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

The girls clapped along, cheering loudly as the couple’s voices blended seamlessly, filling the dorm with a palpable sense of joy and love. By the time the song ended, Jihyo was laughing so hard she could barely hold the microphone.

“Okay, you’re pretty good,” she admitted, looking up at Y/n with a twinkle in her eye.

“Pretty good?” they echoed in mock offense, pretending to be wounded.

“Fine. You’re amazing,” Jihyo conceded, her cheeks warm despite the cold outside.

The night stretched on with more laughter, games, and memories being made. As the snow continued to fall outside, Jihyo found herself stealing glances at Y/n, marveling at how they had managed to fill the emptiness she’d been feeling with so much love and happiness.

Later, when the dorm had finally quieted down and the other members had either fallen asleep or retreated to their rooms, Jihyo and Y/n curled up on the couch together. The glow of the Christmas tree bathed them in soft light, and the faint scent of pine lingered in the air.

Jihyo traced lazy patterns on Y/n’s hand with her finger, her voice soft. “Thank you for this. For everything. I don’t think I’ll ever forget this Christmas.”

Y/n tilted her chin up gently, their eyes locking with hers. “Neither will I,” they said, their voice steady. “I’ll always find a way back to you, Jihyo. No matter what.”

Tears pricked at Jihyo’s eyes again, but this time, they were tears of happiness. She leaned up, pressing a tender kiss to Y/n’s lips, her heart swelling with the certainty of their love.

As they held each other in the quiet of the night, surrounded by the warmth of their shared memories, Jihyo realized that this wasn’t just the best Christmas she’d ever had—it was the start of a new chapter, one where no amount of distance could dim the light of their love.

—————————

The early morning hours crept closer, but neither Jihyo nor Y/n seemed to notice. Wrapped in a thick blanket, they remained snuggled together on the couch, the world outside muffled by the still-falling snow. The Christmas tree lights cast a soft glow across the room, making the scene feel almost dreamlike.

Jihyo rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder, her fingers playing absentmindedly with the edge of the blanket. “You know,” she began, her voice low and reflective, “before you showed up, I was… trying to convince myself it was okay to spend Christmas without you. But deep down, I think I knew how much it was going to hurt.”

Y/n’s arms tightened around her, their voice heavy with guilt. “I hated lying to you. Every time I told you I couldn’t come, it felt like I was breaking your heart a little more. But I wanted to make this moment worth it. I wanted to give you something we’d both remember.”

“You did,” Jihyo whispered, turning to look up at them. “You gave me the best gift I could’ve asked for—you.”

Y/n smiled softly, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “You deserve so much more than I can ever give you, Jihyo. But I’ll keep trying, every single day.”

Jihyo felt her chest tighten with emotion. It wasn’t often that she allowed herself to be vulnerable like this, but with Y/n, it felt safe—natural. She reached up, her hand cupping their cheek as she pulled them into a kiss. It wasn’t rushed or fleeting; it was steady, heartfelt, and brimming with all the love she’d been holding onto during their time apart.

When they finally pulled away, Y/n chuckled softly. “You’ve gotten even better at stealing my breath away.”

Jihyo laughed, her face flushing. “You’ve just forgotten how good I am at it.”

The soft sound of footsteps interrupted their quiet moment. Turning toward the hallway, they saw Jeongyeon rubbing her eyes, wrapped in an oversized hoodie.

“Seriously?” Jeongyeon mumbled, smirking as she caught sight of them. “It’s like four in the morning, and you’re still playing the leads in your rom-com?”

Jihyo rolled her eyes, though the corner of her lips quirked up. “Go back to bed, unnie.”

Jeongyeon raised her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But don’t wake me up for breakfast.” She padded back down the hall, her grumbling fading into the background.

Jihyo and Y/n shared a quiet laugh before sinking back into their comfortable silence.

—————————

As the first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, Jihyo stirred. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep, her head resting against Y/n’s chest. Their steady breathing and the warmth of their embrace had lulled her into the most peaceful rest she’d had in months.

Y/n was already awake, their hand gently brushing through her hair. “Good morning,” they murmured, their voice soft and laced with affection.

Jihyo blinked up at them, a sleepy smile spreading across her face. “Good morning. Did you sleep at all?”

“A little,” Y/n admitted. “But I didn’t want to miss a moment of being with you.”

Jihyo’s cheeks flushed as she sat up, stretching. “You’re such a sap,” she teased, though her voice was warm.

“And you love it,” Y/n shot back, their grin infectious.

Jihyo laughed, leaning in to steal another kiss before standing and wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. She walked to the window, gazing out at the pristine, snow-covered world. The streets were quiet, the city not yet fully awake.

Y/n joined her, slipping an arm around her waist. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Jihyo said, leaning into them. “But not as beautiful as this. As us.”

Y/n kissed the top of her head, their voice a soft murmur against her hair. “Here’s to more mornings like this. Together.”

Jihyo turned to face them, her eyes sparkling with determination. “No matter how busy life gets or how far apart we are, I want to make time for this—for us. Because you’re my home, no matter where we are.”

Y/n’s expression softened, and they pulled her into a tight embrace. “And you’re mine. Always.”

As the dorm began to stir with the sounds of the other members waking up, Jihyo and Y/n stood there for a little longer, basking in the glow of their shared love and the promise of many more Christmases to come.

Bonus Chapter:

The snow outside was pristine and glistening, begging to be disturbed. It was late morning, and the Twice dorm was buzzing with energy after a hearty Christmas breakfast. Nayeon, ever the instigator, peeked out the window and grinned mischievously.

“Snowball fight!” she declared, grabbing her coat.

“Unnie, we just ate!” Tzuyu groaned from the couch, but even she couldn’t resist the idea for long.

Jihyo was sitting on the floor, leaning against Y/n. They exchanged a glance, and her partner smirked. “You in?” Y/n asked softly, their voice full of challenge.

Jihyo raised an eyebrow, her competitive streak already flaring. “You’re asking the leader of Twice if she’s in for a snowball fight? I was born for this.”

Bundled up in coats, scarves, and gloves, the girls and Y/n filed outside into the fresh blanket of snow. The cold air was bracing, and their breaths puffed like clouds on the crisp winter morning.

“Alright,” Jeongyeon said, clapping her hands together. “Teams! Nayeon, Sana, Momo, and Dahyun are Team Chaos.”

“Why are we Team Chaos?” Nayeon asked, feigning innocence.

“Because you’re the most annoying,” Chaeyoung shot back with a grin.

“Rude!” Nayeon sniffed, tossing a handful of snow in her direction.

Jeongyeon continued, ignoring her. “Mina, Tzuyu, Chaeyoung, and I will be Team Sniper. Jihyo and Y/n are on their own. Think of it as a test of your true leadership skills.”

“Oh, you’re going down,” Jihyo shot back, already crouching to gather snow for the first attack.

Y/n laughed. “This is going to be fun.”

The battle began in a flurry of white. Team Chaos was true to their name, screaming and hurling snowballs wildly in every direction. Dahyun was running circles around everyone, tossing snowballs over her shoulder with reckless abandon. Nayeon laughed maniacally as she ambushed Tzuyu from behind a tree.

Meanwhile, Team Sniper had taken up strategic positions, building a small fort behind a bench. Mina was frighteningly precise with her throws, hitting Sana and Momo squarely in the back of their heads from across the park.

Jihyo and Y/n worked as a seamless team. Jihyo was fast, ducking and weaving, her aim sharp as she landed shot after shot on the opposing teams. Y/n wasn’t far behind, their snowballs landing with satisfying plops against Jeongyeon’s and Chaeyoung’s coats.

“Leader power!” Jihyo cheered as she hit Dahyun squarely in the shoulder.

“Unfair!” Dahyun cried, dramatically falling to the ground.

At one point, Jihyo and Y/n found themselves cornered by Team Chaos, who had finally decided to work together. Snowballs rained down on them as they ducked behind a tree.

“This is not looking good,” Y/n muttered, peeking out to see Sana and Nayeon closing in.

“We can’t let them win,” Jihyo said, determination glinting in her eyes. She quickly formed three snowballs and handed them to her partner. “You go left, I’ll go right. Trust me.”

Y/n nodded, and on her signal, they both sprang from their cover. Jihyo unleashed her snowballs with pinpoint accuracy, hitting Sana and Nayeon in rapid succession. Y/n managed to land a perfect throw on Dahyun’s hat, sending it flying.

“Retreat!” Nayeon yelled, but it was too late.

“Victory!” Jihyo shouted, pumping her fist in the air.

After what felt like hours of snowy chaos, everyone collapsed in a heap in the middle of the park, breathless and laughing. The snow was speckled with footprints, and several haphazard forts dotted the battlefield.

“Okay, unnie,” Chaeyoung panted, pointing at Jihyo. “You and Y/n win this time. But only because I let you.”

“Sure, sure,” Jihyo teased, leaning back against Y/n.

Tzuyu tossed a snowball lazily at Nayeon, who barely ducked in time. “This was fun. I think we should do this every year.”

“As long as we don’t have to team with Nayeon unnie again,” Mina said dryly, earning a mock gasp from Nayeon.

Jihyo turned to Y/n, who was brushing snow off their coat. “So? Did we pass your ‘true leadership test’?” she teased.

Y/n grinned, leaning closer to her. “Passed with flying colors, as always.”

The members groaned in unison.

“Get a room, you two!” Momo called, throwing one last snowball that hit Jihyo squarely in the arm.

The laughter that followed echoed through the park, blending with the soft rustle of the falling snow—a perfect memory etched into their Christmas Day.

#twice #park jihyo #jihyo x reader #minatozaki sana #mina myoui #im nayeon #yoo jeongyeon #chou tzuyu #hirai momo #son chaeyoung #fluff #gender neutral reader #kim dahyun

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tgirldarkholme · 2 years ago

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Uncanny X-Men #257 by Chris Claremont and Jim Lee

Jubilee finally finds out about Logan's hallucinations

#marvel #wolverine #logan #carol danvers #nick fury #jubilee #jubilation lee #x-men #uncanny x-men #chris claremont #jim lee #acts of vengeance

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mulberrymyrtle · 2 months ago

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THE CHALLENGE

ONE-SHOT (PJO x reader)

pairings : (slight will solace x reader) (slight nico di angelo x reader)

SUMMARY :

In a spur of typical ADHD indecisiveness, you challenge Clarisse La Rue to an archery competition to “heroically” save the new camper.

One thing – you have never held a bow. Actually, two things, your only experience in firing something are online shooting games you were obsessed with before you came to camp.

Third thing, you aren’t claimed. So, here you are – prepared to face another “dunking” your head in the toilet cliche.

a/n : very short, spur of moment! so don’t expect something really good.

warnings : reader may use gaming terms? also to people who do archery, I apologize for inaccuracies , this is something i thought up quickly!

The snow that elegantly bows down the ground is a sight you’ll grow tired of, soon. However, with the steaming cup that flows within the air and the warmth that Will gives you when winter enters is a feeling you’ll miss, forever.

Camp has once again been shrouded in the comforts of winter, the cold shifting in the bodies of those unprepared. The piling of jackets and puffers that the Aphrodite cabin have been handing out to the shivering campers paired with the Apollo kids carolling at the early of night – the shaking of tambourines and bells ringing through your earmuffs. The grassed terrain is overfilled with litters of soft snow that squish under your boots, a satisfying crunch heard in every step. Internally, your mind is wrapped around fleeced and heavy blankets that snug comfortably in warmth – winter is here, and it’s a time where you have peace.

Unlike the previous seasons, where in Summer – Percy Jackson changed the whole trajectory of peaceful camp life. His forbidden nature of a child of the Big 3, the prophecy, the betrayal of Luke and of course, you can’t forget that damn pine tree becoming Thalia. It was a compilation of events your brain always wants to etch out. It gives you enough headaches, you swear that both the Hephaestus and Apollo cabin have to be in an alliance to either heal or re-work your memories.

“Thank Olympus, hope no one’s gonna ruin Christmas,” the fog that erupts from your mouth makes you awe, playfully mixing in with the steam of hot chocolate.

You hear the laugh of the boy beside you, his bright eyes squinting at your words. “Don’t say things like that, you’ll get jinxed!”

“Will, c’mon you seriously can't believe what Travis has been saying,” you huff, a nudge to his shoulder. “Not everything has to be jinxed, let camp be peaceful for once!”

The look Will gives you is half-turned smile, blonde curls shaking as his disagreement is obvious. “No no, when has camp ever been peaceful?”

That question makes you think, a little yeah, your right erupts from a slight whisper.

With the slight admission, he raises his brows – warm laughter once again emerging from his throat. “Told you! Have you seen my half-siblings running around the infirmary?” His fingers pointed at the unusually packed line that was held within the rather run-down building. Following his direction, you find Lee Fletcher bouncing around and talking in everyone – voice echoing. You flinch a slight bit, the nagging from his mouth reminiscing you to the times you wound up there, a bandage stuck to your head and ambrosia sticking to your taste buds.

“Well…” trailing off, the mug nestled in your hands – an idea popping in, a new way to battle Will’s words. “Well, that’s like normal – it’s practically peaceful enough…”

You see the twist in his face, which makes you have to explain yourself even further. “I mean like, peaceful like when not faced with pine trees turning to humans, weird threats… that stuff! It’s different, no very- very- ultra dangerous threats!”

“Ahhh,” he finally nods, a cheer escaping your lips. “Guess you’re right, but I did hear news about Percy coming back…” he sighs, a rather big smile on his face. “That means I get to meet this “legend” camp’s been raving about.”

The news practically has everything in your mind shattered, divided into little minions that scream murder and crowd up your thought process.

“W-what?!” The growl that manages to bubble up makes Will jump in surprise, eyes wide.

“H-he’s gonna return?” you shake his shoulders, hot chocolate now soaked deep in the snow. The noises that come out are frantic, like an old lady spouting crazy visions paired with whined moans like a toddler not getting their sweets. “You’re joking!”

“I heard Chiron and T-thalia talk about it,” Will tries to tell you, but the constant shakes spurs his speech – bubbles of thoughts entering your ears. He gently grabs on your face, patting it to stop. The assault (and the warmth, unknowingly) has you slow down your movements, a more rational thought entering your frazzled state. He still holds onto you, and in a brief shared glance – a gentle gaze deep into yours. Your mind slowly dissipates, talking in the crisp air, his soft touch, and the snow falling onto your nose.

“You’re good at this,” you hold onto his hands, detaching it slowly – but you still hold on, weirdly enough.

“At what?”

“Calming people down,” you let go of his hands. “Like a healing touch, I guess?”

“Healing touch?” his brows are raised high, “Are you saying that because I’ve been claimed by Apollo?”

“Well, it fits?”

He lets out an awkward chuckle, “I don’t even have any abilities yet!”

“Hey, it’s just been like 4 months,” you pat his shoulder. “You’ll be able to channel some cool Apollo-like things – like… Archery?”

He gives you a disappointed whine, “Look I’ve tried everything, singing –”

“Yeah,” swallowing a lump in your throat, “that was really bad.”

“Oh, shut,” he punches your shoulder, “I’ve done musical instruments, poem writing, and archery yesterday was a big fail!” He buries himself deep in his hands, a sigh lifting from his tongue. “Gods, I'm virtually just a heatwarmer.”

Your eyes soften at his words, rubbing his hands. “You haven’t tried healing yet, right, maybe you’d do good there.”

“But healing’s scary,” he confesses, muffled sounds now on your end. “I see Lee handle that and...” He raises to meet your face, worry seeping through his expression. “I don’t know if I can handle that.”

“Then… “ you mumble off, eyes darting to think of a solution. “Well medic work in the online games I’ve played were simple enough.”

“Oh my, this isn’t a game,” the slight amusement in his tone has you brighten up, “that stuff is automatic, a simple press and they’re healed.”

“Hey hey, I’m trying to comfort you.”

“It’s not effective, I can’t just find some medkits and throw it at someone and hope they’ve been healed.”

“You’re missing my point!”

“That point was?”

You shake your hands around, deflecting the conversation. “W-whatever! I… we can have Lee teach us.”

Hope shines in his eyes, “Us, you mean you’d wanna be a medic too?”

The nod you give makes his eyes sparkle a tad bit brighter, “I mean, I’m unclaimed. So there’s no skill I have, same boat right?”

“Aside from being obsessed with shooting games?”

You push him off the log, “It doesn’t hurt to learn something. Let’s just do it together. Okay?”

He groans from the confines of the snow, lifting your body to kneel over his side – cheeky smile to your face. A hand reaching over to help him up, “You up for it?”

His hand finds yours, a slight complaint from his mouth. “If there’s nothing to do, we can try.”

You bump his head in a lighthearted manner, “Hehe, I can eat the stacks of ambrosia and nectar by the cabinets.”

“Really? I’d wanna try that,” his movements slow, his gaze faced down. “It reminds me of mom's pie,” his voice held longing, seeing how his fingers grip onto his coat.

The tone he had made you pause to look at him, the reality set in despite the air of Christmas that you two confided yourselves in. That even if he was finally safe, in a haven where he had no fear of monsters creeping up to attack him and his mother. An explanation to the massive questions he had about himself – a place where he could be himself, freely.

It also came with weird nightmares that’d have you stare in the starry sky, the fingers of death coming and closing in at the clock of your birthday, and to spend Christmas without the comforts of someone dear – you understand why his eyes dulled and his smile now neutral.

You stood up, dusting yourself up. “Well,” a rather mischievous look covering your features. “First to go there can eat it infinitely, losers only get a small bite!” with a head start, your feet dash along the path towards the infirmary.

The cold air filling in your lungs, yet the running brought intense fire burning – the clash of these feelings made you giddy. Laughter heard between you two, Will’s steps catching on. His voice rumbling and shouting the words cheater echoed in the seeming empty woods.

The two of you found yourself streamlining through some nymphs playing by the snow, the satyrs hunched around fires, campers rolling snowmans and shooting snowballs. You had to save Will from Katie’s intense aim, her vision automatically thinking you were the Stolls.

“Woah that was a nice headshot,” you awed at her aim, “Better than those online weirdos who…”

“I’m ahead!” Will sings, blowing a raspberry to your way.

“H-hey no!”

Then you passed by the arena, hearing the clash of metal and taps of feet moving synchronously. The slings of arrows warping through the air heard within the distance.

It’s just a normal camp day, free from fear, from monsters.

It was a day where campers could be free from their obligation, the burden of being a demigod lifted for just a little second —

“Oh–!”

You tumbled down the snow, rolling down a hill, the weight on top of you has your breathing choked out. Holding onto the weird pressure tightly – was it a person?

In the disarray of everything, the bundles of white entering your vision, the cut-off breathing, and some guy rolling with you? Your ambrosia and nectar were at stake!

You two crashed on something, immediately pushing off the person.

“What the –?!”

Settling your sights on the boy who lumped against the snow, his face was unfamiliar. He had ebony hair that messily contrasted the white beneath him, his skin tanned, he looked the same age as you – 10. His hands gripped onto a figurine, you see his breathing slowly. In a quick motion, you hovered the boy with concern all over.

“Are you okay?”

With a twitch in his eyes, bits of snow littering his eyelashes. It fluttered open, and he jumped – the figure clutched used to hit your head.

“O-ow!” you staggered back, hands rubbing over the sore spot. “The hell!”

“I-i’m sorry!” the boy says, coming more into your view.

“You better be!” you roar back to him, “Why’d you do that? God that hurt!”

“You looked like a monster, “ he says in a haste, hands playing with his figure. “You know we were just attacked by one – a manticore.” He awes, bringing out a holographic card to shine to your face. “3000 ATK plus you get an extra 5 to save throws, cool right?”

“Y-you just called me a monster!” you barked out, and though your eyes lingered on the card a bit too long you shook him off. “Look, you need to apologize two times,” you told him firmly, crossing your arms. Scanning him up and down, you figured – he was new. “That was hurtful – twice the pain and now I’ve lost the race against Will!”

He sets down the card, looking at the bruise forming on your skin (and also your heart). Holding his hands together, he mutters in a sincere tone.

“I’m sorry, for all that.”

Silence overtakes the two of you, your defensive position slowly crumbling down. You stare at the card planted between the space you two had. The intricate designs and the holographic sticker had your eyes entrapped, the anger you also bubbled up because he made you lose the race wilting away.

“The card is… cool,” you mutter, picking it up to hand it over. “What are they?”

His face gets overcome by a toothy grin, seeing excitement threatened to burst out if he spoke one more word. “They’re Mythomagic cards!” he sputters out in a daze, closing in to you.

Before you try to say anything, a rough hand lifts you up by the collar. Then instead of an excited boy ready to say all kinds of things about cards, you’re met with a fuming girl who practically said i’m gonna kill you, kid with no words at all.

With the burly build, scars littered even when the fur coat (that looked like she hunted herself) that hung around her body. Her chopped, but curly strands entered your view and her eyes glinted a dangerous red – her grin akin to boar’s animalistic growl to take down enemies.

“Clarisse?” you uttered in a meek tone, feet dangling above the ground. “Why?”

“You, you made this mess?” she brings your body towards the crashed crates and archery targets, throat suddenly filled. “You puny lil’ chump making me miss my shot!” she rages out, shaking you with vigor.

“But it was just a —”

“It was a bet for something,” she barked. “A bet for the next Capture the Flag game.”

Oh.

If there’s one thing about Ares kids, they don’t play around with Capture the Flag.

With one swallow of your throat, you prayed to a god and accepted your fate.

“I’m sorry Clarisse,” you begged, her steps dragging you two away. “Please don’t hurt me.”

An evil snicker ruptures through her, bringing you down to hit against the wooden frame of an archery target. With a small, condescending pat – she places something on your head.

“I won’t,” she says pointing to the pack of equally angry Ares’ kids who were stringing bows. “But they’ll help.”

“Oh, I'm just 10,” you cried out, eyes a bit watered.

“And? You need to be taught something —” her words get cut off by a snowball entering her mouth, muffling her speech. Darting to whoever threw it, it was the boy from earlier. Chest heaving as he shouted a quick “goal!” as he rushed over to your side.

But with Clarisse’s booming command the group huddled over and caught him. With new-found rage in her senses, she marches over to him and with a grip so harsh the veins popped out of her hands.

“Y-you! Oh, I can wait to get two lil’ kids knowing their lessons,” dragging him next to you.

“Let us go, you pig!” he lashes out, weak punches on trying to fight back, using his figure as a line of defense.

Picking up the figure, she mockingly waves it around. “Ha, it’ll be fun to make you my slaves.”

You worriedly watched, the scene making your body feel numbed, meant to just watch.

What should I do?

She once again laughs in his face, “Are ya’ new here? What’s your name!”

“Nico!” he shouts to her, trying his best to get it back. “Nico di Angelo – I bet your name is Ms. Piggy!”

You see the boy’s face determined, yet it glints with fear – so different from the happy look he donned. His toothed grin, and rather sporadic bounce was heartwarming.

His first time here and he was subjected to this, your heart dropped at the memories. The times you were new, the same face you shared – begging on your knees with tears streaming down your face. Even if you were in a time of peace now, they’d resurface and the guilt gnawed everywhere.

You didn’t want that again.

You don’t know if you should thank impulsivity for this, but your mouth ushered out words you shouldn’t have said.

“Clarisse! I-i’ll make a bet!” the tremble in your voice, slow steps as you walked towards her. “If I win, you leave us two alone – for a long time. If I lose, I’ll be your slave for everything.”

That makes her smile, dropping the figurine by the snow. Confidence roared through her every move, a scary tilt as she regarded the offer.

“That bet is?”

You swallowed your own saliva, that didn’t really enter your mind – you know what? Go with the flow, you internally told yourself. Taking in your surroundings, the only thing that registered was the fact you were in the archery range. With shaking hands, you grabbed a bow and gave it to her, pointing to the targets.

“It’s easy, we’ll shoot arrows in those three targets continuously, and whoever has the most points – wins.”

She gives you a wide look, “Are ya’ underestimating me? This is light work.”

Taking a good, she shakes her head. “Know what, this just makes it easier for me and harder for you. No need for goodluck,” she chuckles as she takes her position. You find that the archery range has garnered more people, a crowd forming in.

The nerves in your body shout at you, taking the hand of the boy – you settle him there in the bustling chatter of people. He only stares at you, with a gaped look and his hold tighter on the cards and figure he held.

“No worries,” you whispered, holding his gaze. “I-i’m good at FPS!”

“FPS?” he tilts his head, “what?”

“You know, video games…?”

“What? Oh like those arcade things in the casino?”

You give him a confused look, ready to explain before Clarisse calls your attention. There you see her work, and your brain could only burst up in haywire.

The first two, though not perfect, had the arrow shoved up near the target– while the third one nestled an arrow perfectly on the red dot, a bull’s-eye.

She tosses the bow to you, your hands clumsily catching it, a slight off-balance when you stumble. You walk through the crowd – recognizing the Hunters of Artemis who regarded what Clarisse did with impressed gazes. You find Will’s mop of hair, his face etched with concern, god’s they’re watching your demise.

How in Olympus were you gonna do this! The bow in your hands was unfamiliar, if it was a console or joystick you’d bet 20 drachma that Clarisse would be dead – but the actual thing? Oh, if you were in some online lobby you’d be hit with the most creative curses known to man.

However, you looked at the boy – face filled with hope, encouraging you to go on.

So even with the tremble in your hands, you did.

Just treat it like a game.

The words repeated in your mind, taking position.

Maybe someone took over your body, but the bow felt light – pliable and easy to mold. The string was flexible, following your movements like water. You drew your arrow, perching and fixing it. In your vision, you found yourself in the setting you were used to. The crosshair, the bow – like the gun, you went slow and waited for the perfect time. The arrow stuck to your face, the feather brushing your skin – the crisp wind slithered through your whole being. Removing you of the fear you felt, a quick surge of confidence coursing through. It was your warzone, and you weren’t gonna back down.

This is just a game.

Then you let go, the feather cutting through your cheek. It cut through fast, the bow spun and in a blink —

“Bull’s eye!” a voice says, it’s melodic, maybe someone from the Apollo cabin. But that didn’t concern you, the adrenaline seeped in – grabbing another arrow to nock on the string.

“Bull’s eye again!”

Then the dread came over again, faced with Clarisse’s perfect shot. But you turned back to the expecting crowd, and returned to face the red dot that loomed over you.

“Man, you’re too tense,” a voice rang through your mind, like a gentle whisper. “It interferes with aiming, sometimes all ya’ gotta do is shoot – “

Before camp, online games were your only escape. From the failed grades, the laugh of peers that followed you, and the disappointment that weighed in your whole mind. The feeling of bringing out your anger through shooting online randoms wasn’t the best, but it worked for you. The way you could get control, to feel a sense of victory – and to win wasn’t by hastily shooting the enemies or buying the newest gear.

All you just needed was a quick breather, a calm mind, and to take every chance.

So as you once again felt the arrow cut through your skin, the anticipation danced through.

And maybe you were dreaming, or maybe some prayers were answered.

But the crowd’s cheering and words behind you confirmed that it was both.

The arrow spun, a fast sling – hearing the loud crunch of wood entering your ears. Seeing how the arrow pierced through Clarisse’s with a split, halving hers to pieces. You find your arrow buried deep in the target, the bundles of feathers placed delicately in the middle.

“B-bull’s eye!”

Then something caught your eye, a soft red glow reflecting off the snow. The crowd gets even louder, their stares looking at something on top of you.

You held a confused gaze, head turning around – you caught Clarisse’s gaped look. The anger seething through her skin, but it wasn’t the usual. It held some respect? Everyone gave you a hard gaze, hearing Chiron’s hooves run through the crowd.

In a sudden movement, they all bowed. You were left to only look up — the red glow surrounded a symbol. It screamed strength, power, fear even if it was a simple spear. Your eyes widened at the recognition, an audible gasp from your tongue.

“Ares,” Chiron said, his voice rigid and filled with respect. “Destroyer of men, raider of walls, master of the art of blood.”

“Hail. (Name) (Last Name), Child of the God of War.”

#percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #will solace x reader #nico di angelo x reader #pjo imagines #pjo x y/n #pjo x you

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charlesslut16 · 2 months ago

Text

-Hoping for You on Christmas-

summary : you meet charles for the first time on a christmas market hoping to see him again...

PAIRINGS : charles leclerc x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : I hope you love this!!!

masterlist ; DECEMBER MASTERLIST 24’

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The crisp December air nipped at your skin as you wandered through the Christmas market, a soft blanket of twilight settling over the festive stalls. The glow of fairy lights twinkled against the darkening sky, and the smell of mulled wine, freshly baked pastries, and pine filled the cold air.

There was something almost magical about it—how the bustling market made everything feel warmer, more connected. The distant laughter of children, the soft murmur of conversation, and the cheerful jingling of bells created a world all its own.

It was early December, and already the streets were alive with the spirit of Christmas. People bustled about in scarves and coats, their breath visible in the frosty air as they huddled together, stopping at the brightly decorated stalls.

You couldn't help but smile as you wandered between them, admiring the handcrafted trinkets, the glimmering ornaments, and the small, delicate lights that lit up the night.

But despite the twinkling lights and the festive music, something was missing. It wasn’t the presents or the decorations or the food—though all of that was wonderful. No, what you were searching for was a feeling, a connection.

You had always hoped that Christmas could bring something more—a chance encounter, a spark, something that would remind you that the world was still full of possibility, of wonder.

As you made your way further into the market, the crowds seemed to fade away, replaced by the soothing sounds of carolers singing familiar tunes. Your steps slowed as you approached a stall filled with beautiful wooden ornaments—tiny reindeer, snowflakes, and hand-carved Santa's.

The craftsmanship was exquisite, and you found yourself mesmerized by the intricate details. You reached out to touch one of the ornaments, admiring the way the wood was polished to a soft sheen, when you heard a soft chuckle behind you.

"Careful, you might break it," said a voice, light and teasing.

You turned, startled, to see a man standing just a few feet away. He had dark brown hair tucked beneath a beanie, and his eyes—bright and mischievous—seemed to sparkle in the soft glow of the lights around you. He was tall, dressed casually in a jacket and jeans, his smile friendly and warm.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to," you said quickly, feeling a little embarrassed.

"No need to apologize," he said with a reassuring smile. "I was just kidding."

There was a brief moment of awkward silence as you both stood there, not sure what to say next. His smile was easy and kind, and for some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something familiar about him, though you couldn’t place why.

"I’m Charles, by the way," he said after a moment, extending his hand with a casual, yet inviting gesture.

"Nice to meet you, Charles," you replied, shaking his hand. "I’m—" You hesitated, realizing you didn’t need to offer a full introduction. "I’m just here enjoying the market."

Charles nodded, his eyes glancing around at the lights and decorations. "Yeah, it’s nice, isn’t it? The Christmas markets always feel like stepping into another world for a little while."

You couldn’t help but agree. "It’s one of those places where everything feels a little more magical, even if it’s just for a moment."

His grin widened. "Exactly." He looked back at the stall, eyeing the ornaments. "They’ve got some great stuff here. I love how everything is handmade."

You smiled, glancing at the various wooden figures hanging around. "Yeah, it’s amazing. The craftsmanship is beautiful."

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you continued to admire the delicate decorations. The soft crunch of snow underfoot and the hum of the market around you felt peaceful, almost as if the world had slowed down just for a moment. But before you could say anything more, a gust of cold wind blew through the market, making the snowflakes swirl in the air.

"You know," Charles said, his eyes brightening, "this weather is perfect for something warm. How about we grab some mulled wine?"

You were a little taken aback at the suggestion but found yourself nodding without hesitation. "That sounds great."

The two of you made your way to one of the mulled wine stands, the scent of cinnamon and orange drifting in the air. The line wasn’t long, and before you knew it, Charles was handing you a cup of the warm drink, steam rising from it into the frosty air.

"Thank you," you said with a smile, surprised at how natural it felt to be with him.

He shrugged nonchalantly, his smile playful. "It’s nothing. I figured it’s the least I can do when we’re enjoying the market together."

You raised your cup. "To enjoying the market."

"To enjoying the market," Charles echoed, his voice soft but warm, and you both laughed, the sound mingling with the distant chime of Christmas bells.

For the next little while, the two of you wandered through the market, sipping your drinks, talking about everything and nothing. Charles was easy to talk to, and you found yourself drawn to the way he listened, the way his eyes sparkled when he spoke about his hometown in Monaco, or how much he loved getting away from the busyness of the Formula 1 season and soaking in the Christmas spirit somewhere quieter.

Eventually, the cold began to sink into your bones, and you both agreed it was time to head out. As you walked toward the exit, the snow falling lightly around you, Charles turned to you with a hesitant look in his eyes.

"So," he said, voice quieter now. "I’m going to be here for a few more days. Maybe we could meet again before I leave? If you’d like?"

You smiled, the idea of seeing him again sending a pleasant warmth through you. "I’d like that."

"Great," he said, his eyes lighting up. "I’ll be around. Just let me know when you’re free."

You both said your goodbyes and parted ways, each retreating into your separate worlds, but there was a spark, something small but undeniable, that lingered between you—a sense of possibility, the hope that you would see each other again.

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The days passed, and as much as you tried to push it out of your mind, you couldn’t help but think of Charles. You spent hours wandering the market again, hoping to bump into him, but somehow, he was always just out of reach. Y

ou told yourself not to get your hopes up, but that little part of you—the part that believed in fate—held on to the hope that he might appear when you least expected it.

As Christmas Eve approached, the market became even more magical. The lights seemed brighter, the air colder, and the scent of mulled wine and roasted chestnuts stronger.

But something still felt missing. You had hoped for a little magic, something special this Christmas, a connection that felt like it was meant to be.

It was December 24th, and you were standing by one of the stalls, staring at the lights, when you heard your name.

"Hey," came a familiar voice, and you turned quickly, surprised to see Charles standing just a few feet away, a wide grin spreading across his face. His eyes sparkled, just as they had before, and for a moment, it was like the world around you had paused.

"I didn’t expect to find you here," he said, his voice warm and playful.

You laughed, relief flooding through you. "I’ve been hoping to see you again."

Charles’s grin grew wider, and at that moment, everything else seemed to fall away—the market, the cold, the snow. There was just you and him, standing there, connected in a way that made everything feel a little brighter.

"Looks like the universe decided to give us another chance," he said, stepping closer.

In that instant, you realized that the magic of Christmas didn’t lie in the lights or the gifts—it was in the people we meet, the moments we share, and the connections we make when we least expect it.

"Maybe we could start a tradition," you said softly, your heart fluttering in your chest. "Meeting here every year, at the Christmas market."

Charles looked at you for a long moment, his eyes softening. He nodded slowly, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I’d like that," he said, his voice low but sincere.

And at that moment, Christmas felt a little more complete. The magic of the season was right there in front of you, in the form of a shared smile, a connection, and the promise of something more.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #christmas #masterlist #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc oneshot #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles lecrelc #Spotify

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skzhua · 1 year ago

Text

Caroling to my Heart

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Lee Minho x Female!Reader

Genre: Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Christmas love story, angst, fluff.

Word Count: 14,653

Warnings: Swearing, talks of regrets, mentions of alcohol, heartbreaks.

Summary: Christmas is meant to be spent with your loved ones. Minho stopped loving a long time ago.

A/N: Credits to my boyfriend for the general idea of the plot (story is all me, though)

November nearing its end, Chrismas was approaching quickly. Children playing in the snow, shops filled with decorations to sell for the holidays, sales everywhere for presents shopping, music playing everywhere you go; truly the most wonderful time of the year.

At least, that's what most people think.

Chan has always loved Christmas. He always took it as an opportunity to gather up with his college friends with whom life was always enjoyable. Jeongin had recently gotten a promotion at work which he took very seriously, Hyunjin finally opened his dog rescue center a few years back, Felix was happily getting married in the following spring, Seungmin had finally started to get recognition for his stand up comedy shows, Changbin had entered a production company with Chan, and Jisung was finally seeing someone after not daring to date for years.

And then, there is Minho.

Him and Chan used to be the closest friends ever, and Minho was always the life of the party. He messed around in college, got good grades, made his way up to become a successful lawyer. Overall, things had turned out pretty well for him.

What Minho considered as his biggest accomplishment was his lover. The apple of his eyes, the prettiest woman he had ever laid eyes upon, the sunshine of his life. Y/N was in the same major as him, one of the top students. It started out as a very typical college love story. He was annoying her, she found him funny, they were paired for a project, they got closer, and they got together in a matter of weeks. From that point, life was perfect. They moved out together after college, adopted a ton of cats, went on so many trips outside of the country... they even got engaged.

That was until Minho messed it all up, losing everything he loved the most in one go.

Ding dong.

Jumping at the sound, Minho takes a second to recover and puts the movie he was watching on pause. He checks the clock; it is 7 o'clock in the evening. He wasn't expecting anybody to visit him. Nonetheless, he goes over his front door and looks into the peephole. He isn't surprised to see Chan waiting patiently with a plastic bag in hands. He rolls his eyes in annoyance before letting his friend in, greeting him boringly.

"Hey, Chan," he says before yawning loudly.

The older man looks him up and down, analyzing every bit of his friend's appearance. "Wow, you look like shit."

Minho doesn't answer, giving Chan the death stare instead. "What do you want?"

"Well," he starts while allowing himself to get comfortable on the couch. "Jisung is presenting his new girlfriend to us and because you didn't answer in the group chat, I thought I would check on you."

"Tonight? No, I have to get up early tomorrow."

Chan's shoulders drop as Minho, once again, declines an invitation. "You haven't come to see us in months."

Minho shrugs, visibly not seeing a problem. "I'm just very busy. I have cases coming in all the time and I can't trust my associate to work on them."

"You're overworking yourself, a break would do you some good. Besides, we miss you."

It's not that he doesn't want to see his friends, of course he does. He just knows very well he'll only end up ruining the night by not being the funny guy he used to be.

"I don't know."

Chan takes a nicely ironed shirt out of his plastic bag and puts it on the coffee table in front of him, and stands up to walk to the door. "You're welcomed to drop by if you change your mind. It's at the restaurant we used to go in college."

"Why the shirt?" Minho's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Consider it as an early Christmas gift from me."

After throwing a small smile his way, Chan opens the door and leaves. Minho finds himself alone again, perplexed. He approaches the shirt and scrutinizes it. It's a designer piece which does not surprise him, Chan has always been the kind to go an extra mile for his loved ones. Looking at the clock again, it indicates 7:20 P.M. Does he still have time to go? It would mean he has to shower, get dressed, drive all the way to the restaurant... Right, that specific restaurant.

He will visit his friends, just not tonight.

2 years ago.

Christmas was the most important holiday to Y/N. It brought so much nostalgia to her and she absolutely adored every aspect of it. Baking cookies and go ice skating were part of the many activities she loved doing in December.

This was also the first year she had to spend it away from her family. She didn't regret choosing to study so far away from home but it hurt nonetheless. It would be difficult and Minho knew that.

Y/N had to work an extra shift that night if she wanted the day of Christmas Eve off. It was ridiculous, she thought. As if the restaurant really needed her to stay so late. Coming home, Y/N was so glad to finally be able to relax as she climbed up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Minho was waiting excitedly at the front door of their shared apartment. He made sure the gingerbread cookies were all ready to be assembled to construct a house, checked if the Christmas lights were working fine, and put a playlist of Y/N's favourite holiday songs on his speaker.

"Soonie!" he yelled frantically at his cat as he saw him get on the counter. "You don't want to ruin your mama's night, do you?"

He picked him up and brought it close to his body, petting his head lovingly. Needless to say, this couldn't be a cuter sight to have when Y/N walked in.

"Hey, my two favourite boys," she chuckled at them before taking in how well-decorated the home was. "Min, did you set up all this?"

Her boyfriend put his pet down before bringing her into his arms. "I did. You've been feeling off recently, I thought it'd be a good idea to cheer you up. And since Christmas is next week, why not decorate cookies for the occasion?"

"You made gingerbread cookies?!"

Y/N's eyes lit up from seeing the baked goods and she rushed to go sit at the counter. Minho smiled at himself, proud he had managed to lit up her inner light just a little.

"Thank Felix for these."

"Well, thank you Felix."

Present.

Minho remembers every night she came home from that workplace. He always tried to make her feel better each time, Y/N despised working so late but she somehow always stayed positive.

How much he misses her.

Minho gasps for air, sweat all over his body. He had another nightmare, nothing unusual. What is odd is the phone ringing nonstop at this hour of the day; 4 o'clock. Who in their right mind would call someone so early?

"What?"

The person on the other side of line doesn't respond, Minho can only hear them breathe unsteadily.

"Hello?"

"Minho," Jisung finally speaks. "Sorry to bother you this early."

"It's 4:00 A.M."

"I know, I know. Just, I'm getting worried about you and I can't call you tomorrow –well, today– or you'll say you're busy with work as always. You're not okay and I think you could use a friend."

Although not wrong, his statement fueled Minho with annoyance and frustration. He doesn't need help, or anyone for that matter.

"Minho?" Jisung speaks up again as he doesn't get a response.

"Good night, Jisung," he simply says with the intention of hanging up.

"Wait!" he hurries to stop him. "If you don't want to talk for your own sake, at least do it for mine. Not just mine, the other guys' too."

Sure, Minho hates talking about his feelings. Still, he's not a monster and cares a lot about his friends nonetheless. Feeling a bit obligated, he agrees.

"So, uhm, who's your new girlfriend?" he asks, getting uncomfortable already.

"She's a friend of Jeongin. Remember that girl he worked with in college? Well, that's her. She's so nice, I wonder why Jeongin hadn't introduced me to her sooner. She kind of reminds me of..." he trails off but stops himself before stepping out of line.

"I'm happy for you two. I'm sorry I couldn't come."

Jisung lets out a huff. "Thank you but I know you could have, you just didn't want to."

"That's not-"

"Don't lie, Minho," he cuts him off. "You didn't come because of her, am I right? Because of Y/N again?"

Minho can feel his heart tighten while his friends keeps going at it, insisting on speaking about her. He doesn't want to, is it so hard to understand?

"Let's not talk about her."

"That's the problem, Minho. You never want to open up about it."

"She left. What is there more to say?"

"How you're coping with all, how we can help-"

"The only thing you can do to help is leave me alone. I'm doing just fine. Talking was a bad idea, I should go back to bed."

"Min..." Jisung says in a desperate voice.

"Good night."

As he hangs up, he can sense it might have gone too far. Regardless, he discards his phone on his nightstand and buries his body in his bedsheets. He hears meowing coming from the entrance of his room. A second later, his cat Dori jumps on the mattress to come and lay next to him. Minho reluctantly cuddles the cat back, his last one he got with Y/N. Dori is technically her baby but she left so suddenly that Minho had no other choice but to keep him.

"Where are your brothers?" he whispers affectionately to the ball of fur who replies with some more purring. "Are Soonie and Doongie sleeping too?"

Chan is probably the only one able to get Minho out of his house, especially during Christmas time. Maybe it is guilt or shame that he feels, but Minho hasn't been so great ever since he had his early chitchat with Jisung. Shopping for presents wasn't what he had in mind when he thought of making up for it but Chan insisted it would be a good idea.

"Look," he says while pointing at the pig plush on the top of the pile. "It looks like Changbin."

Minho shrugs. "I guess it does."

"What about this?"

He looks boringly at the shirt Chan is showing. Yeah, maybe he should have done something else to make the most of his day off. A good meal at home seems so much more appealing to him.

"Come on," Chan encourages him. "Enjoy a bit."

"I am enjoying, look," Minho tries to convince him with a forced smile.

"Hmm, maybe it's time to go to the food court and take a break."

Dragging his friend behind, Chan moves from restaurant to restaurant in search of a meal for his lunch. After a while of debating internally, he settles for a hamburger. As for Minho, rice with pork seems to be tasty enough. They sit at a table and start to eat in silence. Minho looks around the place, watching people chat and laugh. He sees one couple in particular and they remind him too much of Y/N. Adverting his gaze from this spot, he focuses back on his food before speaking.

"I was thinking of buying a new hoodie for Jisung."

Chan is surprised his friend is even conversing with him but smiles. "A hoodie? Doesn't he have plenty of them already?"

"He does but he sent me a picture of one specifically the other day."

"Then you should buy it for him. Have you heard from him, by the way?"

Minho gulps. "No."

Although suspicious, Chan doesn't push it. They quickly finish their lunch and decide to head towards a clothing store to find Jisung's present. At a certain point, they unconsciously part ways as they look at different pieces of clothing. Minho would look for Chan but he has the hoodie to find. Chan is fine on his own anyway, he tells himself. He goes to the right section and begins to browse through each item. He frowns as he inspects them, not convinced these would be appropriate for his friend.

"Minho?"

He freezes in place. Has he gone crazy or has he just heard Y/N's voice?

"Minho," she says again.

Finally turning around, he is somewhat relieved that it isn't his former girlfriend, but her sister. "Deena," he greets her politely.

"It's been a while, wow. How have you been?" she asks cheerfully, too much in his opinion.

"Nothing much."

She seems taken aback by the short length of his answer. Minho used to be the nicest man she knows. Of course, she doesn't know the full story about what happened. Nonetheless, she still considers Minho as family. So seeing him so lifeless in front of her is quite a shocker.

"I'm in a bit of a rush but we should go grab coffee soon and catch up," she suggests but from the look on Minho's face, she knows she shouldn't have.

"I'm pretty busy."

"Alright," she answers, uneasy. "I'll see you around then."

"Yeah."

Without adding anything, he resumes to looking through the hoodies. Deena eventually leaves and Minho feels like he can breathe again.

He has nothing against his former "sister-in-law" but seeing her so unexpectedly is not something he has prepared himself for. He will go grab a coffee with her when he feels ready to.

Chan comes back a few minutes after with a couple of black shirts and an oversized pair of jeans he picked for Jeongin. As they wait to pay for their things, Minho can feel that Chan has something to say. It wasn't an abnormal occurrence but this time feels like it's eating him inside.

"What is it?"

Chan hesitates for a second. "It was Deena, right?"

He hums. "Yes."

"I'm running out of ways to tell you appropriately but you need to get your shit together. The girl did nothing to you and she seemed to be on the verge of crying when she left the store."

Minho rolls his eyes, like always. "What do you want me to do? Run after her and apologize? I didn't do anything."

"Exactly. Dude, everyone around you is getting sick of your way of dealing with what happened. Sure, your feelings are valid. This doesn't mean you have to inflict your pain onto us. We only want to help," Chan responds, not realizing his tone is increasing more and more.

"Always wanting to play the good savior, uh?" Minho scoffs. "In front of strangers too? Look, I don't need you to tell me how to be. You're not my dad or anything."

"I took you under my wing in college, of course I'm still looking out for you."

"That was back then. I don't need your pity anymore."

Chan's jaw clenches as the two men stare right into the eye. The cashier awkwardly calls for them to proceed to payment which breaks their staring contest. They hurry to pay before storming out of the mall, both of them fuming with anger. The moment they get into Chan's car, the latter explodes.

"This has lasted long enough. How long has it been now? A year?"

"Eleven months," Minho corrects.

"Whatever, same difference. My point is that it might be time for you to move on or at least stop being such a pain in the ass."

Minho's eyebrows raise as he lets out a chuckle. "I didn't know such strong words could come out of your mouth."

"Minho," Chan says in a warning tone.

"So what if I'm not as easygoing as before? You don't understand how it feels anyway."

"Help me understand, then!"

"You just wouldn't!"

He surprised himself by yelling so harshly. The hint of regret creeps up but he tries to hide it by looking away. They both know this is the end of this conversation, neither want to continue anyway. Chan starts the car and the ride home can't be any worse. The tension is so heavy, he swears he feels his body crushing.

Still in silence, he drops Minho off in front of his apartment complex and drives away. Face blank, Minho goes in his building and lazily enters the elevator. It's like he's in a daze, not fully aware of himself. Before he knows it, he's back home sitting at his counter with three cats waiting patiently in front of him as they expect him to fill their bowls with food. But he remains still and stares at nothing in particular. Has he gone too far this time?

In all of the people he knows, Chan is the last one he would have thought to snap at him so harshly. Most importantly, he never thought he'd yell at him for no reason. For the first time in a while, Minho allows one single tear drop from his eye.

Christmas has come. Well, almost. Work has been the same and no contact have been made with anyone for the last week or so. The lack of human interaction felt both good and bad, but mostly aching.

Every day is the same, Minho realizes. Waking up, eating a very mediocre peanut butter toast with coffee, scrolling through his feed on social medias, getting dressed, going to work, bossing his ass off in return of a less than decent pay, coming back home, eating, washing up, going to bed, sleeping, only to do the same all over again the next day.

In a way, he loves not having to think about planning things out. On the other hand, his life is becoming more and more dull with less of a purpose. Why is he alive for if it's only to do the same task over and over again?

For a change, Minho decides to start a Christmas film instead of rotating watches of the same five movies. A mistake he does is not reading the synopsis before pushing play on the remote. He settles comfortably on his couch while Soonie and Doongie cuddle next to him. Dori is somewhere nearby, playing with a piece of paper Minho had dropped on the floor earlier that week.

At first, the show is boring he thinks. The more the story develops, however, the more he sees the resemblance between himself and the protagonist. The movie is A Christmas Carol, one Y/N once had begged him to watch with her. Scrooge is very unlikable, there is no denying in that. But Minho tries to ignore the similarities he shares with him and keeps on watching the screen in silence. At some point, it simply became impossible to ignore the tightness in his chest. In an abrupt move, he turns the TV off, picks up his two cats, and heads to bed.

Christmas is so near, he thinks as he is watching his alarm clock getting closer to midnight. He really does his best to not make a big deal out of it but his mind can't stop having these images of Y/N, his friends, Christmas... everything. He can't escape pain, no matter what.

Thankfully, Dori comes in his room to join the other felines which distracts him for a second, just long enough so he can finally fall asleep.

The clock indicates 11:55 P.M. when Minho is in a deep sleep and the only sounds that can be heard throughout the whole flat are the appliances running and the cats snoring. Maybe some snores are coming from the man himself but they are faint. Slowly, Doongie wakes up. He wiggles around to find a new comfortable position but fails and falls off the bed. Luckily, cats always land on their feet. He was going to hop back on the bed but a weird sound catches his attention. It sounds like a bell. Curious, he comes out of the room in attempt to find where it comes from. But nothing. Or maybe there is something.

A faint light can be perceived from the bottom of the front door. The cat carefully gets closer, lowering his body. In a single snap, something flies right from under the door and moving straight into Minho's room which scares Doongie well enough to go hide in his cat tree and let out a cry.

This immediately wakes Minho up as his instinctive cat dad senses take over but it is soon replaced with an unsettling feeling as he sees the bright light in front of him. He squints as it almost blinds him but he wants to know what it is. He can feel his heartbeat increase by the second as the source of light gets closer and closer. Holding his breath, he shut his eyes closed and moves his head away from whatever that is. Until he hears a sigh too familiar to his liking.

He dares to open his eyes and his shoulders drop at the sight. "Chan?"

It's not exactly Chan, it is more of a ghost-like version of him. He wears a very formal suit with his hair styled with gel and his body is translucent, making Minho very skeptical. This is a dream, he thinks. Chan is very much alive and very much not in his apartment. Certainly not after the events of the other day.

"I see you didn't even reach out to me."

Minho frowns and looks around the room as if to make sure he really is speaking to him. "What do you mean?"

Chan chuckles, his voice sounding more like an echo. "After our fight, dumbass! Come on, you weren't going to leave things as it is until Christmas."

He checks his alarm clock quickly. "Well, it is Christmas."

"In five minutes," Chan smirks at him. "I know the past few months have been hard on you."

"Great, even my subconscious is trying to fix me," he whispers to himself, loud enough that the ghost-like figure hears it.

"As in a dream?" Minho nods to the question only for Chan to laugh some more. "You're funny. Anyway, I'm not here for fun. I'm here to help you."

"You tried that already," Minho grumbles in an annoyed voice but receives a shook of the head as an answer.

"My human self tried, I haven't tried yet. You see, I only appear if I'm really needed and your case is a pretty severe one."

Minho tries to protest but is quickly shushed.

"Look, this is a night shift on Christmas Eve, I don't want this any more than you do so let's do it quickly. I'll send you three spirits tonight before it hits midnight. They'll guide you through your entire life and help you make the right choice. Got it?"

"Midnight is in five minutes."

"I know."

"But-"

"You'll understand," Chan cuts him off. "As for now, bon voyage."

Not even conscious that he had been awake —or dreaming— Minho hears a snap of fingers before opening his eyes widely and gasping for air as he wakes up. He is still somewhat confused, but rather glad this was simply a dream. He can feel that the sweat has gone through his pyjamas and makes a face out of disgust.

Quickly, he eats breakfast and freshens up before leaving for work. Yes, he is working on Christmas day. This might be the only way he can get distracted from everything going wrong in his life.

As he approches his work building, he notices a young man. He looks awfully similar to Jeongin but not quite. Curiosity gets the best of him, however, and Minho instinctively walks up to the man. He takes a moment to scan his appearance: he's shorter than Jeongin, has light golden hair and wears loose white streetwear clothing. He also takes notes on the grey of his eyes.

"Lee Minho!" he says cheerfully before Minho could let out a single word.

The man jumps in surprise. "Jeongin?"

He shakes his head as a no and smiles brightly. "No, my name is P."

"P..." Minho repeats slowly, slightly confused.

"Shall we go in?"

He doesn't wait for an answer as he begins to walk and Minho automatically follows him into his building, assuming this boy might be a new worker in his firm. They hop onto the elevator together and P pushes the button to level 7. As Minho is about to look for his own floor, he notices something odd. The building has 26 levels. So why the hell are the numbers going up to 30? He slowly turns to come face to face with the younger man who keeps a wide smile on his face, fear creeping in.

"Who are you?" he dares to ask.

"I told you, I'm P!" the boy repeats with an even bigger grin, almost creepy. "Short for Past."

Oh. Oh no. It all suddenly clicks in Minho's head. Either this is a dream occuring because of the movie he had watched before going to bed or this is his own story of A Christmas Carol. He pinches the side of his arm, hoping he would be back in his room but it only results to him hissing in pain.

"Do you remember your Christmas when you were seven years old?" Minho can only glare at him but P doesn't seem to care. "This might refresh your memories."

The doors of the elevator open right after and not only are they not in his workplace anymore but the setting is exactly as he remembers it from his childhood. They are right on the street of his parents' home. The street is empty, understandably so because of the light snow falling down and the cold weather. It is early in the morning and his childhood home looks much smaller than he remembers, and in a much poorer state.

P walks out first before turning around, encouraging Minho to follow. "Can they see me?"

"No."

The answer satifies Minho and he finally steps out of the elevator, letting himself get led by this Jeongin look-alike. He wonders why this specific time was chosen in all of his years of life. He ponders the idea of asking P but it soon vanishes when he spots his younger self coming out of the house with his parents observing him in a loving way. A knot forms in his belly. He hasn't talked to his parents since Y/N left. Are they doing okay? Maybe he should have called a few times at least.

"Can we bring one home?" younger Minho asks his mom, eyes full of hope.

"Do you want a kitten as your Christmas gift?" his mother asks and the child happily nods. "We'll go see the cats and I'll think about it, okay?"

Satisfied enough, he skips down the street while humming a Christmas song. Oddly enough, it is Y/N's favourite: Winter Wonderland.

Minho watches his former self with nostalgia. He remembers the moment perfectly. This was the first time he ever owned a cat after begging his mother to get one years after years. He had named her Nala, which he thought was very clever at the time.

"Can we follow them?"

P takes his hand, much to Minho's surprise, and they begin to float just slightly above ground and fly right to where his past self is. He doesn't question the spirit about how this works and resumes to watching himself coo at the cats. For a brief moment, his eyes advert from the scene and land on his parents. But there is something catching his attention. He sees his father emptying his wallet as well as his mom before they give it to the worker. His breath gets heavier as he looks back and forth from them to himself.

"Is this why my mother stopped going out for tea with her friends? And why my father couldn't take my mother out for dates? They used to argue so much about it..." Minho almost whispers.

"Parents make great sacrifices for their children," P says longingly.

"Why didn't they tell me?"

P shrugs. "Probably because you were a literal child but also because they didn't want you to feel bad."

"My grandmother would have helped us in an instant if she knew."

P shrugs again. "They didn't want help."

He easily catches on why the ghost brought him at this exact moment. Just in time, Minho gets a hold of himself and says in incoherent words that he won't fall for P's tricks. The latter isn't nearly fazed by this statement and he takes the man's hand to bring him back to the elevator in a quick flying trip.

After the door closes, Minho is relieved that he can finally go back home. That is until P pushes the button for level 18 which earns a frown from Minho.

"Aren't we done?"

"No, you have other things left to see before I send you back. Well, a few more years to see."

"And me at 18 years old was an important year?"

P sends him a knowing look but he acts clueless, as if he doesn't know what happened back then although it's painfully obvious he does. Denial is the best way to cope, isn't it?

The doors open to the hallway of his college dorm he used to share with Chan. He can instantly recognize the said-man and Changbin joking around before they walk in his dorm. Without waiting for P, Minho follows and freezes when he stumbles upon Y/N. This moment was merely over two months into their relationship but he could tell he already knew she was his everything at that time.

Y/N greets the two boys and encourages them to put their wrapped presents under the mini Christmas tree she had insisted on making to display in his small living room. Meanwhile, a nearly adult Minho is unwrapping takeout as he watches the scene with a huge smile.

"What took you two so long?" he asks, walking towards the group with the food in hands.

"Chan's fault," Changbin immediately accuses, earning a stare from the older man.

"Not true."

"I'm not the one who lost Hyunjin's present."

Hyunjin's eyes lit up. "You got me a present?"

A small smirk appears on Chan's face. "I got all of you a present."

"Even me?"

Minho's heart tightens. He still struggles to listen to your voice and because you were there physically in front of him, it pains him so much more.

"Even you."

"Can we open them?" Felix asks, eyes lighting up.

"After eating," younger Minho says in a stern voice. "Otherwise, you'll get your dirty ass hands on the gifts, or on anything for that matter."

Y/N glances at Jisung with a knowing smirk that his friend returns, something he hadn't caught onto back then. She still hastens to give Minho a hand with all of the food dishes, not forgetting to give a napkin to each person. He knows he can be a bit peculiar with keeping his place tidy and he never wanted Y/N to feel pressured with that. Still, it visibly seemed to have been a common issue she and Jisung had with him.

"Y/N, I thought you were supposed to go back home for the holidays," Seungmin tells with food already being chewed in his mouth.

"I was," she confirms. "Minho and I determined we wanted to spend our first Christmas together and, sorry, but I rather be here than with my aunts. They were going to be all over me about not knowing what I want to do with life, I can spare myself from it."

The whole group lets out a laugh as they go on with their feast before discussing all sorts of things. Hyunjin and Chan are in the corner laughing their asses off, much to Minho's dismay who is keeping a close look at his white carpet. Hyunjin has always been clumsy and this wouldn't be the first time he spills something.

Present Minho watches it all, fully aware of what is about to happen. He never regretted getting mad at his friend for a small spoil but this kind of behaviour is one of the many that contributed to his separation. He sees what P is trying to do by showing him this.

"I get the point, can we go?"

P chuckles. "After you know what."

In shame, he observes from the corner of the eye himself exploding at Hyunjin for staining the carpet, Chan nagging at him for doing so, the boys uncomfortably watching the scene as they back away from him... and he catches a glimpse of Y/N getting the necessities to get rid of the sauce stain, not even complaining.

"I think we're good here," he tries again to convince P.

He receives a playful smirk from the spirit. "Are you sure?"

Minho groans but, nonetheless, nods. "Please."

P is quick to grab his hand and fly right back into the elevator, doors shutting behind them. He does give Minho a minute or two to recuperate from the sight before pushing the button 24. Minho's eyes are stuck on the lit up number and gulps, feeling suddenly hotter. That was last year.

"Don't you have another Christmas to show me before..." he trails off.

He is met with no answer and has to settle for the tranquility of the metal box going up. Anxiety keeps letting itself known through his body the more the number rises. Finally, after what felt like eternity to him, the ding sound signals that they have reached the level.

"You might want to prepare yourself for this one."

Minho huffs and glares at the ghost as to tell him "no shit". The doors slide open and they are already in his apartment. At least, P was kind enough to spare him from reliving what triggered the actual argument.

His cats are all doing their thing as normally. All seems out of the ordinary until he feels footsteps through the ground. He takes a deep breath in and watches Y/N barge into the place, hair messy and tears streaming down her face. The guilt pit down in his stomach when he sees himself step inside after you, throwing his scarf carelessly on a chair.

"Are you going to talk at least?" he asks, looking down at Y/N who scoffs at her boyfriend's question.

How dare he is the one demanding explanations from her?

"Are you going to talk about it?" she questions back, crossing her arms on her chest.

"Oh, come on, I didn't do anything."

"Telling everyone you want to call off the engagement is something."

P hisses in a disapproving way. "Man, you outdid yourself with this one."

"Shut up."

Y/N still waits for Minho to speak up but nothing comes out of his mouth other than his unsteady breathing. In a swift manner, she walks behind the counter and fills their cats' bowls in the meantime of waiting still for her lover to say something. But the man stays where he is, observing his surroundings in awkwardness.

"Minho," she finally calls out.

"I didn't call off the engagement."

"Really? Saying getting married is bullshit isn't telling everyone you don't want to marry me?"

"It's not like that. I meant it's not a necessity for us to know we love each other."

"You don't get that marriages can mean something other than that, it's so much more."

"It's an excuse to spend thousands of dollars on things that will last a day or two at most."

Y/N buried her face in her hands as she let out a groan. "You've always been like this."

"Realistic?"

"No, a grumpy old man. You can't see the beauty in anything."

Minho smirks for a second. "I see beauty in you."

"Don't try with your sweet words, Lee Minho," she says, raising a finger up at him. "You know exactly what I mean. I can give you so many examples. Firstly, you never buy me anything on Valentine's day because it's a marketing holiday. Then, you want every single aspect to be perfect and at their exact place although life isn't like this. And finally, you just see the negative everywhere, always pointing out what is wrong. What happened to my sweet Minho who would smile at the slightest thing?"

He remains quiet as he sits on one of the dining table's chairs. Not knowing what to do next, Y/N copies his actions and gets seated in front of him. They don't dare to look at each other just yet but Minho most definitely wants to. His ego too big, he doesn't budge.

"Minho, please," she begged.

"Alright, it's enough."

P lets out a huff. "The action barely started."

Clenching his jaw, he doesn't insist more and settles on looking at the ground while the scene he had been trying to forget about for almost a year was happening right in front of him. Minho hates it, his heart is bleeding in pain.

"I've grown, maybe that's something you should consider doing as well," he hears himself say.

Curiosity gets the best of him and he can't contain himself from looking at her, he never knew how she had reacted to his words. The view he has in front of his eyes makes his heart shatter in an instant. He swears he can see her soul leave her body just now. Had he really done this to her?

"What- Min, I-" she tries to speak, but struggles.

"Y/N, we want different things now."

She chokes out on her tears, the ones that she finally lets stream down her face since she had been containing them. She hated crying, especially with Minho.

"No, we want the same things," she affirms, her voice breaking. "You've just become too obnoxious and focused on your career that you don't see it anymore."

"You think I'm the obnoxious one? Y/N, have you seen yourself?" Minho asks in a loud voice as he gets up from his chair. "You're so full of bullshit with your positivity and ignorance towards actual problems, it makes me sick. Take the cat, for example. We don't have space for a third one but yet, here is Dori who can't even behave properly. And your Christmas decoration is taking too much space too."

"This is about space now?"

"Yes, I need space! And I'm sorry I cancelled our last date but I just can't deal with you right now. You're in the way and I can't work and- Fuck, I don't know how to tell you but we can't keep on going like this."

Her breathing is becoming more unsteady while the tears are still flooding out of her eyes. Present Minho approches her and tries to put a hand on her shoulder, but it goes through. Right, he forgot. He is not really there.

"I didn't want to call off our engagement. But maybe I do now."

Slowly, she gets up and walks towards their shared bedroom which leaves a perplexed and helpless Minho standing alone in the middle of his dining room. He hears unknown noises and hesitates on whether he should go to you or wait. But again, his ego takes over and he stays right where he is.

Soon later, only a couple of minutes, he sees Y/N walk out of the bedroom with one bag and two suitcases full of her belongings. His face dropped immediately.

"You're leaving?" he asks, desperate. No answer. "For how long?" Still silent. "Y/N, please, I know we can figure it out."

Her lower lip quivers as she sobs some more, trying her best to ignore the man in front of her. She dares to walk towards their front door, not acknowledging her lover for one second.

"My love, please," Minho tries once more.

And just like that, she walks out, door shutting quietly behind her.

"We've seen enough."

P is about to say no when he catches Minho's watery eyes. He taps himself on the back mentally, he didn't think he would break down so fast. Taking him by the forearm, he leads him towards the elevator. The doors slide shut rather fast, which Minho is thankful for. In a careful move, P presses the ground floor button and the elevator goes down.

Once arrived, the doors reveal Minho's bedroom. It looks the same as it did the night before. Minho takes notes on that, it means his night is far from being over.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

"You will," P reassures. "I'll leave you alone, now. It was my pleasure being your guide for tonight."

As the two men exchange a small smile, more as a form of respect, P begins to glow, brighter and brighter. So much that Minho can't even look at him anymore and is blinded. He tried to look away but even then with his eyes closed, the light goes through.

Suddenly, there's nothing.

The morning is brighter than he thought it would be. He swears he saw on the news the day prior that Christmas day was going to be gloomy. The blue sky with the sun shining is definitely a pleasant surprise.

Enough with admiring the weather, Minho finishes rapidly his coffee, grabs his briefcase, and heads out to work. As he walks towards his building, he can't help but think of his dream from last night. He did expect dreaming of Y/N but not having to relive the day she left so vividly.

As he is about to cross the road, he feels his body collide with someone which is soon followed with the feeling of burnt. He curses out loud and is considering telling the other person off. Only, it is someone he hasn't seen in a while and who has a face he definitely recognizes.

"Hyunjin?"

The man cocks his head to the side and frowns. "Are you Mr. Lee?"

Minho, as equally confused, nods. "You don't recognize me?"

The Hyunjin look-alike seems to take notice of his whereabouts and clears his throat. "I apologize, sir. This is my first year working as a guiding spirit. Shall we start over? Hi, my name is P."

Suddenly, Minho has flashbacks of his encounter with the boy of the same name. Was he still in the dream? Or was the Chan spirit saying the truth? He feels a lump growing inside of his throat as the P man in question goes on about himself.

"I'm sincerely sorry about the coffee I spilled, let me fix this," he says before splashing Minho's figure with gold dust. The stain instantly disappears. "Now, where was I..? Oh, right! I'm P, short for Present. I was assigned to you to review your Christmas of this year."

At this point, Minho doesn't have it in him to protest. Without saying a word, he walks in the building as P follows him behind. This one spirit is much giddier than the previous one. The moment he steps in the elevator, he does nothing but look around nervously. It is with a heavy sigh that Minho empresses himself to push the button next to 25.

"I thought I forgot something, thanks," P laughs nervously, receiving a glare in return.

The ride up is quiet and awkward but when the doors open, they both step out in sync and walk along the trail of snow. The Christmas market is an event that the real Hyunjin takes part in each year. He always contributed with an animal rescue center to help them give puppies up for adoption.

This year is especially important to him, it is the first time he does it with his own dog rescue shelter. For the occasion, a few of the boys promised him they would come by to encourage him. Including Minho.

Far from the distance, Minho sees Felix and Seungmin arguing about whatever while Chan greets warmly their friend who has just finished setting his booth up.

"Guys, come look at the doggies," he calls the younger men who rush to pet the furry creatures.

"I'd call this one Seungmin," Felix jokes as he picks up a baby labrador.

Hyunjin laughs at the comment. "Her name is Daisy."

"Not very original," Felix allows himself to point out to which Hyunjin chuckles again.

His laughs trails off while he looks around, brows furrowed. "Didn't Minho say he'd come too?"

Chan sighs heavily, giving one of the poodles some scratches. "I called him but he didn't answer. Plus, we had an argument last time I saw him so I don't think he'll come."

"About Y/N again?" Seungmin asks and Chan nods. "The number of times I told her to talk it out with him, she really should call him. The guy is getting on my nerves."

Minho's heart stops for a moment. Not only because he finally knows what his friend thinks of him but also because he apparently has been in contact with Y/N, without his knowledge. He thought all of his friends haven't heard from you since.

"I told her too but what can I say? They're both stubborn," Felix shrugs. "I thought of stopping by her place today to see how she's doing but Minho would kill me if he discovers."

"Oh, please. He'd kill you if you even mention her name."

The four men share a sad laugh before changing topics. Hyunjin is careful with each dog as he introduces them one by one. All of it becomes a blur for Minho, he doesn't know if he wants to leave now or listen more to it. As much as it hurts him, he can't help but be curious.

"Did you know this?" he finally says, turning his body towards P.

"I did read it on the report paper before meeting you but, hey, I don't know you all," he responds with his hands up in defense. "We can go see her if you want."

Minho ponders for a moment. Was he ready to face her once again?

"No. Not yet."

"As you wish. Your friends are having a party tonight if you didn't know. We have to see that."

"I know, yeah."

P takes his hand as they float away all the way to Changbin's house. Before setting foot on the ground, he can already see all of his friends with Felix's fiancé, Chan's wife and Jisung's new girlfriend. Everyone is there. Except him.

He carefully approaches the group inside the living room where the girls are busy putting the presents under the Christmas tree. What takes him aback the most is seeing a tall and beautiful woman coming down the stairs before placing a kiss on Changbin's cheek. Since when is he seeing someone? It takes everyone a few minutes to settle down and serve themselves drinks. Once everyone is sat, they hold their glasses up for a toast.

"Who wants to do the honours?" Jeongin asks and Jisung immediately gets up.

"Merry Christmas, guys! Thank you for this year and thank you to Changbin for hosting the dinner tonight," he says, bopping his head towards him. "And let's have a moment for our Minho. He might not be here but he's in our heart. Let's hope he can get back on the right track next year."

There is a pause in the room, everybody suddenly feeling a wave of guilt and sadness. They know they've done everything for their friend, but they still feel like they should have tried harder.

Minho, this time, doesn't try to contain his cries. He walks up Jisung and smiles, just a little.

"Thanks, Hannie," he whispers.

"To Minho," he cheers, holding his drink higher.

"To Minho."

P lets out a cough, grabbing Minho's attention. "Not to be a mood breaker but I think you should see Y/N."

"What do you mean?"

"See what she is doing at this exact moment."

He surprisingly agrees with no hesitation and they both float away to another neighbourhood of the city. One Minho isn't too familiar with. This must be why she chose to move there, somewhere she knew she wouldn't encounter Minho. They float down at the apartment's balcony and Minho can see her right away through the window.

"You can go through walls," P informs and he does as told.

He's surprised to see her alone with her sister. She used to be a social butterfly, he wonders what happened. Deena sets the table while humming to Christmas music and Y/N finishes up with cutting the ham. It's not as Christmas-y as it should be, it's rather sad. The atmosphere is sad.

"Need help with that?" Deena offers.

"I'm good, thanks," Y/N answers as she brings the dishes on the table.

She looks paler than he remembers, maybe because of the lighting. Her hair is longer and she seems to have dyed it brown. She's also much skinnier.

"Thank you for cooking," Deena smiles warmly at her.

"It's nothing," she smiled back and begins to serve herself a plate. "I would have definitely given a piece of ham to the cats if they were here."

Deena shakes her head. "How many times did I tell you that I can go get them back?"

Y/N shakes her head too and sighs. "He loves them as much as I do, maybe even more. Who knows how he would survive without them."

"He's not really surviving, if you want my opinion. You should have seen him at the mall the other day."

Y/N shrugs while playing with her potatoes. "He's coping in his own way."

Her sister lets out a groan, desperate. "Jeez, you two are so sad to see, it's depressing."

Well, if Minho wanted to be sure Y/N is still struggling with getting over their separation, he has his answer right there.

"I'll be fine and so will he. Besides, it's not like we lost everything. I still have you and he has the boys."

Deena deadpans at her and then points at her ring finger. Minho looks at it more attentively and allows himself to gasp quietly. Y/N still has the ring, the one he proposed to her with. After what he said to her, she still wears it?

She is quick to pull her hand off the table and cover it with her sleeve. "It's a pretty ring."

"It means more to you than that and you know it."

"He didn't want to get married and it's alright. We grew apart and it is what it is. Can we talk about something else now?" she says in annoyance.

"Y/N, Felix, when he called-"

"Stop," she cuts her off. "Felix doesn't know what happened. He doesn't understand."

"Okay, I'll stop. But just so you know, this is doing no good to anybody, especially the two of you."

Minho can't hear any more of it. In a second, he turns around and goes back to the balcony which indicates to P that the visit is over. The ghost throws some of his golden dust in the air and the elevator magically appears next to them. They step inside and press the button to the ground floor.

As it goes down, Minho is looking away from the spirit, he has a certain pride to maintain. P hesitates but decides to put his hand on the man's shoulder.

"Can I just say? In my whole year of working, this might be the only case where I really empathized with my client."

Minho moves his hand away from him and grumbles something under his breath. P doesn't hear it properly but it goes along the lines of "I don't need empathy, don't act like you care".

When they get to his room, the spirit is quick to take a leave, leaving Minho alone in his cold room. At least he has his cats. He has them because of Y/N's kind heart knew he needs them.

At least, maybe she still cares a little.

The formula is the same this morning. So much that Minho knows he isn't going to work and is still trapped in this weird loop of exploring his life. He doesn't bother dressing properly nor bringing what he needs for his job. He doesn't even change his cats' water.

The moment he walks in his workplace, it doesn't even take him a second to spot the ghost of his future. It's Jisung this time. Well, not him exactly.

"Hello, my name is-"

"F, I suppose? For future?"

The spirit, stunned, slowly nods. "Usually, people are happy to see me."

"I had a long night, buddy. Just show me what you have to show me and I can move on with my life."

F doesn't argue with him and he leads him to the elevator when he presses the button 30 right away. "We'll do the quick version since you're in such a rush. I would have gone through 26 beforehand but-"

"What happens next year?" Minho interrupts him.

"No, you want this to be quick. I respect that. It's Christmas anyway, I can make an exception."

"What happens next year?" he repeats.

F smiles knowingly before glancing at the button 26. Minho, hesitantly, goes ahead to press it himself to which the ghost responds with a satisfied smirk. Before he knows it, they already reached the level.

As the doors open, Minho soon recognizes Jeongin's penthouse. Looks like that year's Christmas is settled to be at his place. Jeongin is alone with Changbin as they seem to be preparing food and drinks for the guests they are expecting. It is soon confirmed when Jisung walks in without knocking, alongside with his girlfriend. In the following minutes, each of his friends, sometimes with a significant lover, come inside and the party gets louder and merrier. However, after Hyunjin arrived, it dawns on him that his future version himself won't take part on that year's dinner.

Just like the previous year.

After chatting some more about what they are up to in their lives (nothing much other than Felix getting married but everyone knows as they attended the ceremony), Changbin calls everyone for dinner and they sit around Jeongin's dinner table.

"Can I make the toast this year?" Jisung asks, earning looks from his friends.

"You did last year, I say our host of the night does it," Seungmin suggests and they all seem to agree.

So, a bit uncomfortable still, Jeongin gets up with his glass of wine in hands. "Thank you for another year of our usual Christmas party. I'm really glad all of you were able to come. Of course, we still have a thought for our Minho who won't be joining us, yet again, tonight." The guests exchange glances in agreement and let the youngest continue. "Merry Christmas and let's enjoy our meal!"

They cling their glasses together, wishing a merry Christmas to one another, and don't lose another second to attack their plates. Although it pains him to not see himself enjoy the feast with them, Minho is somewhat happy. At least, they still have each other.

"Why couldn't he make it, anyway?" Chan asks around the table, looking at anybody who might have the answer.

The only person to answer is, unsurprisingly, Jisung. "The last time I saw him was in September and he said he had some issues with the cats. I don't know if he was making up excuses but he seemed to be alright."

"It was a miracle he even showed up for my wedding," Felix scoffs, making Minho huff. "An even bigger miracle was that he didn't make a scene when he saw Y/N there."

"They left together, no?"

What Seungmin just said gives him some kind of hope. Wanting to be sure he would hear every detail, he gets closer to his friend who continues to speak on the matter.

"I know they drank a lot but has someone seen what they were doing?"

"He was cuddly," Jisung answers. "No, clingy as hell. Poor Y/N who had to drive him home."

"They could have made up then?" Chan questions and Jisung nods.

"But we all know him, he missed his chance to fix things again."

"I really thought inviting both of them would have put an end to their mishaps," Felix sighs, discouraged. "I'll send Minho a message later."

"We could call him all together?" Chan suggests but by the reactions of everybody, this is not an option.

Just like that, they change subject and continue to discuss cheerfully about everything and anything. F gives a sad smile to the man, who watches the scene feeling beaten. There must have something really wrong with him that his closest friends wouldn't even wish him a merry Christmas.

"Where am I while all of this is happening?" he asks the ghost.

Carefully, he is transported away from the penthouse and directly to his apartment. The moment he takes in the sight of his place, he sees how nothing much changed in a year. Everything is still where it was during the present year.

His hair is longer, he notices. Not only that but he grew a bit of a beard, a choice he questions a little. His cats are still doing their thing, none of them appear to be sick. What particularly catches his attention is the glass filled with a bright yellow liquor that is set next to him as he scrolls down through his feed on his tablet.

Is he drinking? He does have a few occasions where he'll consume alcohol but a glass full of whiskey is new.

Soonie jumps on the counter and, unlike what Minho would automatically do as of right now, his future self pushes the cat off. He gasps in horror and runs to catch his pet. Only, he did forget he isn't actually there and that things pass through his body. Fortunately, Soonie is fine.

"I should text her, at least," he hears himself say.

The man he sees is far from being remotely close to what he is. Hair messy, tie loosened and a beer belly growing; he wonders what caused him to let himself reach this point.

Future Minho opens his e-mail app and clicks on New Message. He is quick to find Y/N's e-mail address, which real Minho takes as a sign he must have done the same more than once in the last year. He tries to read what he is typing but the amount of typos is quite overwhelming. Despite that, he manages to make out a somewhat coherent note.

___

Hey,

I know I should probably not be writing this but it is Christmas today so, merry Christmas. Remember how we used to go out with the others and play stupid games until late? Then, we'd come home and I'd make you a hot chocolate before going to be? You remember all of that, don't you?

I miss it, and I miss you. I know I said I'll stop writing but you broke my heart, Y/N. How can I forget and ignore what happened? You left so suddenly for no reason. I should be furious, maybe I am. No, I know I am. I still can't help myself but longing for you.

Have a jolly holiday, even if it's without me,

Min xox

___

"Wow, that's pathetic," Minho breathes out after reading. He turns to face F and frowns. "That's a year from now?"

"Precisely."

"No, it can't be. I'm alright, I moved on."

F visibly tries to contain himself from speaking on that, but he can't. "You're one oblivious man."

"I am okay!"

F scoffs. "Sure. Now, shall we visit you at 30 years old? It's Christmas and I have others plans after this."

Minho keeps finding it ridiculous how these ghosts continue to act as if they are actual people. He's still dreaming, why would he bother imagining spirits with personalities?

He is soon led to the actual elevator of his apartment building where F presses the button quickly. Once the level reached, the doors open to a beautiful wedding reception, leaving Minho confused. He does not know anybody other than Felix, who is supposedly already married by then, who is engaged.

The two men walk around the room, recognizing a few faces, and Minho finally spots himself sitting with his friends. At least he isn't alone, he tells himself. He goes straight ahead to observe the scene where he is obviously bored and sick of being there. He does notice how his appearance seem much better than before with gel in his hair and a tuxedo well ironed on.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Chan asks him in a concerned voice.

"Stop with that, I'd leave if I wasn't fine," Minho rolls his eyes.

"You haven't spoken to her, though."

"You really are good at observing, Chan," Minho responds in a mocking way and the older man simply sighs.

Suddenly, the entirety of the room begins to cheer loudly and clap. Minho tries to follow their gaze to find out who they were waiting for. After moving around to see through the dozens of head, he finally spots her. And him.

Y/N. It's her wedding. And she invited him of all people?

His brain short-circuits and he feels his heart pounding faster and faster. He can't think properly anymore, the only thing he can vividly see is her. How she smiles at every single person who congratulates her. How she clings onto this man as if her life depended on it. But most importantly, he sees how her smile just gets sadder when her eyes stop on him.

He knows time stops for the two of them before they walk towards each other. He knows so many things are still left unsaid. Gaining back his consciousness, he follows himself to watch what is about to happen.

She hugs him, a bit awkwardly. "I didn't think you'd come. Thank you."

"Congratulations," Minho says, retracting from the hug as fast as he can. "You two make a fine couple."

"Thanks," she chuckles. "Look, Min-" she starts but Minho shakes his head.

"Don't, it's okay. Enjoy your day."

Grateful, she sends him one last smile and moves to thank other guests. Chan, at this point, can do nothing else but pat his friend's shoulder. Surprisingly, Minho doesn't budge. He does, however, let one single drop fall from his eye.

"That's it?" he exclaims, now looking at F. "I'm not even trying? I just gave up? What even happened between then and that moment?"

"I've shown you plenty, you can figure it out by yourself," F says calmly and then begins to walk back to the metal box.

Minho, refusing this as an answer, runs to join him hastily. "Who's this guy, anyway?"

"Does it really matter? You two are not together anymore."

"Yes, if it can help me to prevent this."

"So you don't want her to be happy?" F perks an eyebrow making Minho groan in frustration.

"I'm asking you what I need to do to change this. It can't be like this. I'm the one who's supposed to marry her."

F smirks as they walk in the elevator, presses the button to the ground floor and finally looks at the man. "You know what has to be done, you're just afraid."

"Of what?"

"Oh, please. Stop with the act. How has the last year really been like for you?"

Minho gulps, already feeling himself choke up. "I-" he starts. "It's been hell."

F nods. "What else?"

"Y/N was right, as she always is... I'm the one who lost myself with time. I did want to marry her and I did not think she was obnoxious. Certainly not..."

He starts to cry, heavily this time. There is no more hiding or denying, he just said it all out loud. Regrets and pain, that's what's been eating him. He sobs as everything finally hits him so brutally. He lost Y/N for good. Or he will lose her for good if he keeps acting the way he does.

And his friends, the only people who stick with him through everything. The ones he keeps pushing away in fear of himself.

"You're home," the spirit says, interrupting the moment.

Minho doesn't hesitate to crash into his bed and sob some more. Even if F wanted to leave so badly, he doesn't think he should just yet. Cursing at himself, he comes to sit on the bed and pats the back of the broken man.

"It's alright, let it all out. You've had a rough night."

Minho hiccups and sniffles before glaring at the ghost. "No shit."

"You know, I think you can fix this."

Minho shrugs. "I've been horrible to everyone."

"You acknowledge it, that's a start. From there, only you can decide how things will be." F looks at his watch for a second and gasps. "I'm late for my next human! Good luck with everything."

Minho doesn't watch him leave. He is still crying but he has no more energy. He desperately wants to wake up, but mostly, he wants to see Y/N.

Minho doesn't wake up until the later morning. With the dream he just had, the sleep deprived guy seriously needed more than eight hours of resting. He does miss out work but, honestly, is not bothered the slightest. In fact, he is grateful he won't be working today.

After feeding Soonie, Doongie and Dori, he determines he should catch up on the gifts he planned on offering to his friends. Walking to his home office, he pulls out the wrapping paper he hadn't touched in a while and begins to wrap each and every single one of the presents he bought. He is definitely happy to have made some purchases the day he went shopping with Chan.

The task does grow tiring and boring after a while. To keep himself motivated, he plugs in his speaker to play some music and hums alongside the lyrics. He hasn't done that for a long time. As he is about to skip the current song playing on his playlist, his solo karaoke session is interrupted by a call coming in.

Not bothering to look at the contact, he answers happily. "Merry Christmas, you joined Lee Minho. How can I help you?"

The other side of the line is silent but he can hear that there is someone. Frowning, he repeats himself to encourage the person to talk.

"Minho, it's Changbin."

"Oh, hey! How are you doing? I was about to call you to ask what you wanted me to bring for tonight."

He senses that his friend is quite taken aback and he smiles proudly to himself.

"You're coming?"

"Unless I wasn't invited-"

"No, no," Changbin cuts him. "You're always welcomed, you know that. I'd just expected you to say you have work or something."

"I was supposed to clock in but I didn't feel like going to the office. Oh, by the way, can I ask a favor from you?"

"Uh, yeah, go ahead..." Changbin replies, skeptical.

"I know you're still in contact with Y/N."

Changbin, on his side, freezes. "How did you- Min, I swear we all wanted to tell you-"

"I'm not mad. I just wanted to know if you could possibly invite her and Deena for dinner, please? Don't tell them I'll be there, though."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, I want it to be a surprise."

He doesn't say anything for a minute, processing what is happening. "Then, I'll invite them and say you aren't coming."

"Good! See you tonight! And tell your girlfriend I'm excited to meet her!"

He doesn't let Changbin question him on how he learned about his girlfriend and hangs up. Resuming to his activity, he stops when he sees Soonie playing with wrapping paper. Filming him, he coos at him before giving him loving scratches.

"I won't ever hurt you, I promise," he tell his cat, recalling what happened in his dream.

When he has finished with wrapping his gifts, he goes to his closet to find an appropriate attire for the night. For the last year, he hadn't wore anything other than work clothes and sweats. The nice shirt Y/N once bought him catches his attention. The dark green buttoned blouse seem to be a perfect match for his black clean pants. He changes fast and does not forget to add a few pieces of jewelry to finish his look.

He is all set to go. But one look at himself in the mirror at his entrance stops him for a moment. It suddenly clicks that he is a couple hours away from seeing Y/N again, for real this time. Although terrified, he has found some peace with it from the events of the previous night. He wants to make things right.

And one thing he can do just now is call his parents, the ones he has been ignoring for a year. He did expect his mother to cry but certainly not his father. Both incite him to come to his hometown in the following days and he can't refuse the invite. Not when they are begging with their puppy eyes.

"I'll come for New Year's, does it sounds okay?"

His mother nods vigorously through the screen of his phone. "Will Y/N be coming with you?"

He might have left out that he isn't with her anymore. Seeing the look on his parents' faces, he does not have the heart to tell them yet. Instead, he goes with a safe answer.

"I'll see with her if she can clear her schedule, but no promise."

"Tell her she's always welcomed here whenever. Merry Christmas, son!" his father wishes him adoringly.

He smiles, feeling suddenly nostalgic. "Merry Christmas to you two!"

And he hangs up.

Before going to Changbin's place, he doesn't forget to stop at the Christmas market to pay his friend, Hyunjin, a visit. Mentally preparing himself to face a pissed off Chan, he strolls between the booths and stops at a few of them. Some are selling soaps, a lot of them in fact. Others sell clothes they crocheted themselves and a few offer samples of their baked goods.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin's golden locks are easily found from afar. Minho also spots Chan, Seungmin and Felix. He has a heavy case of déjà-vu when he sees the four of them discuss with frowns on their faces.

Discreetly, he walks towards his friends who don't take knowledge of his presence yet. That is until he arrives right behind Felix.

"-stopping by her place today to see how she's doing but Minho would kill me if he discovers," the man is telling the others, oblivious that Minho is hearing everything.

Seungmin gulps and nods his head towards him but Felix cluelessly frowns. Hyunjin does the same which finally makes him turn around and come face to face with Minho. His eyes grow twice their sizes and his mouth opens slightly in shock.

"Hi, Yongbok," Minho says, unbothered. "Cute puppies you got, Hwang."

Hyunjin smiles, thankful. "Do you want to pet one? I've got this chihuahua that looks like Kkami."

He doesn't have the time to answer when a small dog is suddenly placed in his arms. With no complaint, he pets the puppy affectionately. The four men look at him, rather confused, and say nothing. They simply have no idea on how to react to this.

"Minho, what I said about Y/N- She- Uh... We-" Felix stammers out his words but Minho interrupts him.

"I know and it's all good. She is your friend too, I can't be mad at her for wanting to keep you all around."

"I see you've made some thinking," Chan finally speaks up, eyes stern.

"You can say that... I'm sorry about the other day, you were right. I shouldn't have shut you out of my life," he admits, much to his own surprise.

"Apology accepted," Chan grins. "A little birdie told me you asked Changbin to invite Y/N and Deena for dinner."

Seungmin's eyes lit up. "So you changed your mind? You'll come?"

Minho huffs. "I never said I wouldn't come."

Hyunjin sneers. "I know someone who'll be ecstatic about that."

The girl paces the floor nervously, biting her nails as she waits for her sister to arrive. Even if Changbin assured to her that her ex-fiancé wouldn't be attending the party, she can't help but feel like he will find out. She already feels guilty for keeping contact with his friends, who knows how he would react if he learns she went to celebrate Christmas with them.

As Deena finally walks in the apartment, she lets out a heavy sigh of relief. "Finally!"

Her sister rolls her eyes. "It took me barely five minutes to get here."

"Still," she chuckles sheepishly. "Thank you for coming with me."

"What would you do without me?" she exclaims dramatically. "For real, it's very nice for them to invite you. Especially after last year. Plus, it's better than our sappy sister date night."

Y/N lets out a small laugh but resumes automatically to biting down her lower lip in nervousness. Deena notices it but doesn't comment on it. Instead, she rushes her to leave, saying they will be late otherwise.

In the car, Y/N can't wait any longer. She has worries and needs to let them out or she'll go mad.

"What if Minho ends up showing up?"

Deena gives her a look but answers nonetheless. "He won't. And if he does, he'll have to suck it up and be an adult about you being there."

"Do you think he'll get mad when he discoverd that I still talked with the guys?"

"Y/N, for fuck's sake, it's not your problem to deal with! He's the one being a little bitch. Besides, you're not with him anymore."

"It doesn't mean I want to hurt him... and..."

She doesn't complete her sentence since she knows Deena must have understood right away. Y/N is still hopelessly in love with Minho. As much as she believes that leaving was the right thing to do, there were so many instances where she tried to convince herself that he'd change if she goes back to him.

She knows, deep down, she might be right on that.

"I can't believe you're actually here with actual presents!" Jisung almost yells as he brings his friend into a warm hug.

Hyunjin scoffs. "Let the man breathe! See, Min? I told you."

Minho taps Jisung's back a few times as to tell him to let go but he refuses, tightening the embrace. Jeongin is the one to break them apart to be the next in line to hug Minho. Everyone is baffled by his change of heart but they look past it and are simply grateful to have gotten their friend back.

"So? Is she coming?" Minho asks Changbin once he greeted everybody one by one.

"She confirmed she is."

Chan frowns and takes him by the shoulders. "Are you sure you want to talk to her?"

"Things were left unsaid, I need to clear this out once and for all."

Ding dong.

Oh. Now things are getting a bit too real, and panic begins to settle throughout his entire body. With once glance exchanged with Chan, it somehow reassures him. Still with his heart beating fast, he retreats himself behind the group as Changbin goes ahead to open the door.

She looks just like he remembers, stunning. There is, however, a hint of something he can't quite understand. She is paler and shyer. Past that, she is the same. While hugging everyone with her bright smile on her face, she shines. Minho is not too sure if he wants to ruin her brightness by letting his presence known. Looking around nervously, we wonders if this was a bad idea after all.

Before he can escape, he hears his name being called from afar; Jisung. Cursing at him mentally, Minho steps aside from behind Hyunjin and waves, embarrassed.

To no one's surprise, there is a moment of awkwardness settled in the room. While Minho is too ashamed to look back at her, Y/N can't rip her gaze away from him. She can't believe he is actually there. She has to make a mental note for later to smack Changbin for lying to her.

The moment is interrupted by Deena, thankfully. "Hey, Minho! I didn't think you'd be here."

"Hi Deena," he replies in a small voice.

This seems to be enough for the others to resume to their thing: Changbin taking his guests' coats to the other room while his girlfriend offers drinks, Deena putting the presents under the Christmas tree, Chan's wife and Felix's girlfriend sitting in a corner to discuss... Y/N, however, does not budge. Not until everyone leaves the entrance, revealing Minho standing in front of her.

"You dyed your hair?" he finally says, more or less to break the weird tension between the two.

She chuckles and runs her fingers through her longs brown locks. "I did, I thought a change might be good."

He nods as he puts his hands in his pockets, rocking his body back and forth. Now what? He knows he wants to talk about the obvious, but how?

"You're wearing that shirt," she points out with a smile. "It fits you well."

"Thank you. Your dress is cute."

"Thanks. I haven't wore this in a while."

"In a dress or not, you're cute either way."

She blushes. It's not as bad as she thought, they can at least do small talk. Still, this is far from being what she was used to with him. It suddenly snaps in her mind how much she missed him.

"I'll go get a drink, you're welcomed to come along," she offers which makes Minho smile.

Changbin's girlfriend makes no complaint when Minho asks her to make a specific drink, one Y/N would always get when they were together. It does not get unnoticed by the latter and she is amazed he remembers such details even after not speaking to each other for a whole entire year.

"You seem to be doing good," he comments once they get a hold of their alcoholic drinks.

"I'm not too bad. I joined a new law firm and, hopefully, they'll let me work on a case on my own."

It pains him to know she is still struggling with work, this was never an issue for him. "One day, someone will recognize your competence."

"Easy for you to say. I've heard you climbed status and have your own office?"

"Which one of the boys told you that?"

By the look on her face, he has managed to surprise her. "So you know."

He takes a sip of his glass and shrugs. "It did hurt a little that nobody told me but it's alright. You needed them as much as I did."

Her eyes soften. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm the jerk here. I pushed you away to the point you left and after you did, I was so close to losing all of my friends. You did nothing wrong."

She moves her head to the side, unsure on how to react. "We both made mistakes."

He scoffs. "Maybe, but you have to admit I did things way worse than you."

"It's alright, we're okay now. It wasn't meant to be."

His heart tightens and he scoffs once more. "What if it was?"

"Minho-"

"No, Y/N, listen to me for this one. Please." The gleam in his eyes convinces her and she nods for him to continue. "I don't know exactly what happened, it might be work, but I lost myself at some point. I never thought weddings were bullshit, not once in my life. My dream the moment I met you was to put a ring on your finger."

Minho stops himself and gives a scan around to make sure nobody is watching. He is thankful when he realizes his friends are busy with watching a funny video on Felix's phone. With no hesitation, he takes Y/N's hand and moves her sleeve up to reveal her engagement ring, still beautifully worn on her finger. Embarrassed, she is quick to retract her hand back in hiding. How did he know if she has been hiding it as soon as she saw him?

"And I think you might still want that."

Her eyes get watery when she forces herself to stare back at him. "This year has been... a lot. I was not ready to remove it just yet and, I guess I just got used to wearing it."

Although tempted to correct her as he know the truth, Minho does not insist any more. Instead, he sends her a look that says he understands. Almost as if it was planned, Chan calls everyone in the living room to open the presents and to, as they do every year, make a toast.

It takes a few minutes until everyone is sat and silent but once they seem good to go, Chan nods his head at Minho. "Why don't you do the honours this year, Min?"

"Oh, um..."

"I think it won't be appropriate if it is anybody else other than you," Seungmin adds to which the others seem to agree on.

Reluctantly, he gets up from his seat and clears his throat. "First of all, I'd like to apologize for the way I've been acting. I was going through a lot and I shouldn't have imposed it on you, I'm sorry. Second of all, thank you all for sticking by my side although I was a total asshole."

"Heck yeah, you are," he hears Changbin jokingly respond.

"Something else I want to mention," he continues, ignoring his friend, "is how much regret I've felt this year. Y/N?"

All eyes move to her figure by the mention of her name. She looks at Minho, feeling a bit intimidated, but smiles to let him know she wants him to go on.

"I've never loved anyone else more than I have with you. I am aware things were not ideal but you brought the best out of me. I'm sorry I had to be the one ruining this for us. I love you still and I can only wish you the best from now on." He gives the others a last glance before raising his glass. "Thank you Changbin for hosting this year's party, and merry Christmas!"

Even though the entire room cheers and applauds in response to Minho's sweet speech, Y/N is not mentally there anymore. Her mind going wild, she can't think straight other than what Minho has said. She undeniably still loves him, more than she'd like to admit. But is she ready to let him in again?

"Hey," Deena calls her out, shaking her away from her thoughts. "You might want to figure some things out with lover boy."

Her face grows red. "You think so?"

"He just left outside to go for a walk but I'm sure he isn't too far yet. Go join him."

"I don't know..."

"Y/N, stop being in denial. You still love him, he still loves you, he obviously wants you back... Just go get him already."

Slightly intimidated by her sister, she doesn't need to be told twice to go grab her coat and boots, and walk out the door. She expected for him to be at least further away on the street but it is definitely a surprise to see him sitting down on the porch. His back facing her, she quietly approaches him and sits beside him.

There is a moment of quietness before he finally looks at her. "It's snowing."

She chuckles. "Thank you for the info, Mr. Obvious."

They share a laugh and both go back to watching the snowflakes fall. It's calm and peaceful, Minho loves it. It painfully reminds him of many occurrences where they'd watch outside the window for no reason on snow days.

"That was a good speech you just made."

He smirks. "I know."

His playful demeanor is something she doesn't remember seeing in the last moments of their relationship. It feels nice to see him back, as himself.

"What you said earlier, did you mean it?"

He frowns. "The part about regrets? Yeah, I mean, I was an ass and it didn't help me getting better so... I just know I want to fix it."

She shakes her head. "Not just that. The part about still loving me."

He moves his eyes from the snow to her own and she looks at him expectedly. She is so pure, he hates himself from even thinking he had hurt her. Carefully, he takes her hands in his and sets himself just a bit closer to her while still giving her space. He feels the sweat on his forehead, waiting for either getting rejected or getting the love of his life back. Either way, he has to say it. He's been putting it off for too long.

"I meant every word I said, I still and will always love you. How can I not? You're sensitive, smart, beautiful, and so caring. You always put me before yourself. So far, you were ready to give up your cats so I could have them because you knew I needed them."

"Minho-"

"No, you don't get to interrupt me until I'm finally done saying what I have to say. Y/N, never once did I think you were obnoxious. You see beauty in everything, something I'm incapable of doing and that's what bugged me. It bothered me how you are so perfect while I am not even close to be as loving as you are."

She scoffs with a knowing smile pending on her lips. "Now, I'll have to cut you here. You don't see yourself how I see you, Minho. Why do you think I fell in love with you in the first place? You have your own little ways of showing affection, each cuter than the other. I don't mind the rest because I know you do love me."

"I hurt you," he argues sadly.

"And I forgive you, just as long as you don't do it again," she grins, tightening her grasp on his hands.

Minho raises an eyebrow in confusion. "You forgive me... As in-"

"Don't make me say it, I have my own pride too."

Minho wipes away his tears he hadn't realized were starting to fall on his face and doesn't lose another second to bring her close to him and crash his lips onto hers. They're just like he remembered and maybe better, sweet and soft. At that point, both of them are crying. Only this time, it's not because they are hurting. So many feelings are said through the kiss and not a single one is coming from pain. It's sereine and warm, Minho can feel his whole body get lighter.

"Fuck, I missed you so much," he says when they break away, holding her close to his chest. "I'm never letting you go again."

"You better," she chuckles through a sniff.

The door behind them opens wide with more than seven pairs of eyes on them. Minho blushes while Y/N hides herself in the crook of his neck.

"So we good? Everything is sorted out? Please, the food is ready and I'm starving," Jisung complains, receiving a smack from Changbin.

"You're not starving and let them have their moment!"

Jeongin sighs. "I think the moment was already ruined.

The couple, who are still sitting, explode in laughter before getting up and joining their friends in the warmth of their home where Changbin's girlfriend has selected a nice Christmas playlist to complete the ambiance. Music Minho recognizes to be Y/N's favourites. A coincidence? Probably but he likes to believe it isn't.

While the boys congratulate him for being back together with his love, Minho looks outside through the window one last time. He isn't too sure if what he sees is right but four figures seem to look at him proudly.

While nobody is watching, he mouthes a "thank you" before the silhouettes fade away in the wind.

Minho still doesn't know to this day if what happened that night was real or not. One thing for sure is he can't be any more thankful for these spirits. Most importantly, he is finally in a happy place.

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