#i was waiting on someone to call her out but she really just made a fool of herself no questions asked huh

[mggslover]

How the Unsub Stole Christmas ❆

A Holiday to Remember: part 2

In which the BAU's holiday getaway takes a dark turn when a family is found murdered on Christmas, forcing the team to investigate while reader struggles with painful memories of her past and her growing, unspoken feelings for Spencer Reid.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader Genre: crime, angst, smut (18+), fluff, found family Content warnings: graphic cm case descriptions!!, mentions of shitty childhood, reader getting in some unsub trouble, oral (f receiving), p in v sex. Word count: 9k 🫣 i swear it reads really fast A/n: read part 1 first! writing this story genuinely brought me so much joy, and i hope you will experience the same while reading this. this will be my last fic for the year 2024, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the support, i can't wait to see what the new year will bring for this blog. don't forget to interact with this post if you've enjoyed! 🎄🤍 dividers by @issysh3ll

It shouldn’t have surprised you that you’d be called out for another case. Still, the disappointment lingered thick in the air.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Garcia murmured softly, her tone sad. JJ wrapped an arm around her, bringing her in for a side hug. “Don’t worry,” she reassured gently. “The trip isn’t over yet.”

Penelope seemed satisfied enough with that answer, but then spoke up again. “I don’t want to stay here on my own. It’s spooky knowing someone got murdered just miles away.”

“You can come with us to the station. Rossi, Morgan, Prentiss and Y/L/N, you’ll head to the crime scene. A deputy will be waiting for you there.” Hotch instructed. 

You exhaled softly and gave a brief nod. Spencer glanced over at you, his eyes filled with that quiet empathy you’d come to recognize over the years.

“Good luck,” he said, his voice low but sincere.

“Thanks,” you replied, your words equally soft. “You too.”

Half an hour later, you arrived at the crime scene. The neighborhood was so small it hardly felt like one—just a handful of houses scattered across large, snow-dusted plots of land. It looked peaceful, almost idyllic, as if nothing could ever disturb the calm. The street was adorned with Christmas lights and festive decorations. The only thing slightly out of place was a crack in the bench beside one of the houses. Otherwise, the neighborhood looked like it had stepped right out of a holiday card.

As you stepped out of the car, you noticed the few neighbors who hadn’t yet been driven inside by the cold. They stood in clusters in front of their homes, bundled up in scarves and coats, watching the scene unfold with cautious curiosity.

You looked over at Prentiss. “We should start doing some interviews—maybe send a few of them over to the station.”

She nodded, her expression focused. “Got it.” Without another word, she made her way toward them.

You followed Rossi and Derek toward the red wooden house, where the Deputy awaited by the front door. He looked young—probably around your age. 

Rossi introduced you to Deputy Wilson. Wilson gave a sheepish smile, “Sorry it’s just me. Almost the whole department is unavailable because of the holidays.”

“Convenient timing for a murder,” you mused.

“The scene’s been left as it was when we found it,” Wilson continued. “The back door’s been forced open, and you can see boot prints in the snow leading to the backyard.”

Morgan immediately stepped forward. “I’ll get a shot of those prints for Garcia,” he said, already heading toward the backyard.

Wilson looked at you and Rossi. “You want to take a look inside?”

You paused before heading in, shaking the snow from your boots and making sure not to use the doormat—the one engraved with the names of the family members. It felt wrong, almost disrespectful, to dirty the only thing that might be left of them. 

You took in a sharp breath as you entered the house. Your gaze was first taken by the large Christmas tree standing in the corner of the living room, decorated in red and gold. But then you noticed the bloody mess underneath it. Four bodies—two adults and two children—lay scattered on the floor, broken Christmas ornaments surrounding them, as though the killer had dropped them carelessly after his violent act. The mother and father were draped over each other, their throats slit cleanly. The teenage daughter, too, had her throat cut, but her body was twisted in a way that didn’t seem accidental. The small boy—no older than ten—was slumped between them, his face frozen in an expression of terror, a look that would haunt you for days.

The scene before you was a sickening parody of a perfect Christmas. But the most disturbing part wasn’t the carnage—it was their faces. Each of them wore a grotesque, unnerving smile, painted onto their lips in blood. It was a mockery of joy, an image of happiness forced onto the dead.

You felt a wave of nausea rise in your throat and turned away, needing a moment to breathe. It was then that you noticed the walls, once filled with smiling family photos were now smeared with blood. Shattered frames lay scattered on the floor, as if the killer had intentionally destroyed the family’s history, piece by piece. 

Rossi spoke first. “The unsub who stole Christmas,” he mused, his tone almost playful despite the grim reality.

You gave a sharp exhale, a brief scoff escaping your lips. “Yeah, you could say that.”

You put on your gloves and picked up a shattered picture frame from the floor. You handed it to Rossi without a word. He took it, studying it for a moment before speaking again. “One thing’s for sure—this wasn’t just a murder. This is deeply personal.”

You nodded, scanning the room. The starkness of the crime scene was still sinking in, but your mind was already running through the facts. “The execution was meticulous,” you murmured, your gaze flickering over the room, “but the aftermath... messy. The unsub rushed out of here—didn’t even bother closing the back door behind him, and those footprints? Almost like he didn’t care at all about leaving evidence. We might even get lucky and find DNA on the bodies.”

Rossi considered it. “It could be that he was in a hurry. In a small neighborhood like this, people will notice anything out of the ordinary. He probably knew he had to move fast.”

You hummed in return. “It still doesn’t add up. You can’t plan a murder with this much detail and then completely overlook how to cover your tracks afterward.”

You took another slow turn around the room, examining the details. Every piece seemed to add to the strange puzzle, but none of it fit together. As you passed the fireplace, something caught your eye: a piece of paper tucked into one of the stockings. You reached for it carefully, your fingers brushing the corner stained with blood.

You unfolded it with precision, revealing the scrawled words in black ink. The sentence was short and written in Latin, a language you hadn’t encountered in years. You stared at it, furrowing your brow as you tried to make sense of it.

“You wouldn’t happen to know Latin, would you?” You asked Rossi, half-joking, though the seriousness in your voice remained.

Rossi looked up, his expression a mix of confusion and dry humor. “Does it look like I know Latin?”

You smiled, already pulling your phone out of your pocket and speed dialing Spencer. As the phone rang, you turned your attention back to the paper, the blood spatter still making your stomach turn.

“Hey,” you breathed out as he picked up the phone after the second ring.

“Hey,” Spencer replied. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft with concern, your single syllable being enough for him to decipher how you feel.

You glanced over your shoulder at the murdered family, swallowing hard before turning away. “I will be,” you responded. Once that fucker is behind bars.

You straightened, pushing the thoughts away, and focused on the task at hand. “I’ve just found a piece of paper at the crime scene. It’s a text written in Latin. I figured it’d be quicker to ask you than wait for Garcia to look it up.”

Spencer hummed in acknowledgment. “Good call. What does it say?”

You glanced at the paper again, stumbling slightly over the unfamiliar words. “Nunc sciunt te perfectum non esse.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the line before Spencer spoke, his voice calm but precise. “Nunc sciunt te perfectum non esse. ‘Now they know you’re not perfect.’” His perfect Latin pronunciation made you wince at how poorly you’d read it.

“What’s that supposed to mean? A taunt?”

Spencer’s voice was thoughtful. “Sounds like he’s trying to prove something. It’s definitely personal.”

You exchanged a look with Rossi, who was standing nearby, holding the broken picture frame. “Yeah, that’s what we’ve been thinking. Whoever this unsub is, he knows the Reynolds family intimately.”

“Garcia’s already digging into the family’s background,” Spencer replied without missing a beat, already a step ahead.

“Good,” you muttered, relief washing over you for a moment. “How are things going over there?”

“JJ’s been trying to reach family, but they don’t live nearby,” Spencer answered. “A snowstorm hit. I’ve been tracking the meteorological data, and the chances of them making it are close to zero.” 

You nodded, a dull ache settling in your chest. “Well, I’m going to keep looking around here. The bodies will be picked up soon to go to the lab, and then I’ll be heading over to the station.”

“Alright,” Spencer replied, his tone warmer now. “I’ll see you there. Be careful.”

“Always am,” you said, offering a small smile even though he couldn’t see it.

The words on the note kept drifting through your mind. Maybe it was the sentiment that came with Christmas—or maybe it was the fact that, up until now, you were having a perfect holiday, something you never thought you’d get to experience—that made the scene remind you of your childhood. How everything looked so joyous from the outside, especially during the holidays. But if you looked closely, you’d see the cracks. The ornaments on the tree, hastily glued together, their edges jagged and uneven. The hole in the wall, cleverly concealed behind your stocking. 

You were probably overthinking it. After all, it wasn’t the family that was broken like yours was—it was the unsub who had shattered their picture-perfect life.

Rossi’s voice broke through your thoughts. “You okay, kid?”

You blinked, pulling yourself out of the past and into the present. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

You and Rossi walked into the secluded room the Sheriff had arranged for the team, exchanging your findings with Morgan and Prentiss along the way. You’d made a quick stop at a Chinese takeaway to grab food for everyone, knowing the team needed fuel for the long hours ahead.

The rest of the team was already seated around the table, and Reid was in the middle of showing Hotch something on the map of the neighborhood.

“Oh, you guys are the best!” Penelope sighed, her voice full of appreciation as she caught sight of the plastic bags you were carrying.

“We couldn’t leave you to go hungry,” Emily responded with a grin.

You took a seat closest to where Spencer was standing, and he naturally slid into the chair beside you. You reached into the bag and pulled out the only plastic fork, knowing he’d struggle with chopsticks. He flashed you a grateful, closed-lip smile as he took it from you.

Once everyone had filled their plates, the conversation turned back to the case.

“Garcia dug up some useful info,” JJ began. “Stephen Reynolds owned a construction company that’s on the verge of going bankrupt. It’s possible the unsub was an employee who got fired—or was cut loose because the company couldn’t afford him anymore.”

“It seems like the whole family was targeted,” you added, leaning forward. “The note was left in one of the children’s stockings. It doesn’t feel like the murder was just directed at Stephen.”

“That’s why we need to find out more about the Reynolds family outside of their neighborhood,” Hotch said. “The employees at the construction company could have insight. It’s clear the neighbors aren’t going to give us much.”

Rossi’s eyes narrowed, a skeptical look on his face. “Did they really not give you anything? The neighbors, I mean.”

Prentiss shook her head. “Nothing useful. They kept insisting that the Reynolds’s were a perfect family. They even seemed offended when I pressed for more.”

“That doesn’t sit right. The note specifically mentioned how the Reynolds’s are not perfect.” Rossi replied. 

“I gotta give it to them, though,” Garcia chimed in. “The Reynolds’s are model citizens. The parents were both heavily involved in charity, and the kids have won multiple prizes in spelling bees and other competitions.”

“Has anything bad ever happened in that neighborhood?” Morgan asked, clearly skeptical about the idea of perfection.

Penelope clicked away on her laptop. “Well, there was a fire in one of the houses about ten years ago, because of damaged Christmas lights.” She made a sad face as she continued searching. “Oh, and a cat got stuck in a tree once… didn’t make it.”

“What happened to the family in the house?” Spencer asked.

Penelope’s fingers paused over the keys. “Uh, let me see… The Eriksens died from smoke inhalation. Oh… this is sad. They left a child, Christopher Eriksen. He was put into foster care when he was just eight.”

“Did the Reynolds’s live there when that happened?” JJ asked.

“Yeah, they did. Actually, they organized a fundraiser to build a bench with the parents’ names engraved on it, in their memory.”

You felt your pulse quicken at the mention of the bench. Something about it seemed strangely familiar, but you couldn’t trust your mind right now—not with everything still scattered from the case, and the ghosts of your past tugging at the edges of your thoughts.

You could feel Spencer’s gaze on you, but you decided to ignore it, keeping your focus on Hotch as he spoke up. 

“It’s best if we head back to the cabin to rest up,” he said. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long day, and the station’s closing tonight so everyone can spend time with their families.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, the relief of getting some rest evident on their faces. But as the team began gathering their things, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. You hated the idea of putting the case on hold, even if it was just for the night. The face of that little boy kept haunting your thoughts, his wide eyes silently pleading for answers, for peace. You couldn’t help but feel like you were letting him down.

Spencer’s hand snakes up on your shoulder, his warm hold holding you in place. His lips barely moved as he mouthed, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, shaking your head.

The entire car ride had been silent. Spencer’s gaze would occasionally flicker over to you in the backseat, but you kept your eyes fixated on the road, watching the scenery blur past.

The silence stretched on as you said your goodnights to the rest of the team and walked toward your shared room with Spencer. As you both got ready for bed, there was an unspoken tension hanging in the air. Now, lying in the king-sized bed, you both stared up at the ceiling, the quiet stillness between you thick with unspoken words.

“When are we finally going to talk about what’s wrong?” Spencer’s voice broke the silence, careful but insistent.

You stayed quiet for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. “Nothing’s wrong,” you replied, your words coming out a little too quickly.

“There’s obviously something wrong,” he pressed gently. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” you answered, your voice softer now, more honest. Usually, Spencer never had to press. There was something about him—something warm and patient—that made it easy to open up, to share your thoughts without fear of judgment. But this time, it felt different. It wasn’t just the case. It felt personal, something you couldn’t fully explain.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you said, thinking aloud. “It’s just… something’s off. And I don’t know if it’s just me.”

“What do you feel?” His question was quiet, but his concern was clear.

You hesitated. “It sounds stupid,” you muttered, brushing it off.

“Nothing you could say would sound stupid to me.” His words, soft and sincere, made your chest tighten with warmth. You turned your head to look at him, noticing the closeness between you, the way his gaze lingered on you.

“You thought it was stupid that I shower at 115 degrees,” you said with a playful smile.

Spencer let out a soft chuckle, the tension easing just a little. “I don’t think it’s stupid that you like it,” he said, his voice gentle. “I just think it’s stupid that you’d risk hurting yourself over it.”

His eyes warmly looked at you. One hand rested underneath his pillow as he lay on his side. You turned toward him, mirroring his position.

"I’m really struggling with this case," you softly admitted, trying to keep eye contact, though your gaze flickered down, betraying the weight of your words.

“Was it hard seeing the crime scene?”

"Yeah," you choked out, your throat tight. You blinked quickly to try to stop the tears that threatened to spill. “It was... it was horrible.”

His hand reached out to gently rub your bare arm under the blanket. "It’s completely normal to feel affected by what you saw," he began, his voice steady but laced with the kind of empathy that only someone like him could offer. "Witnessing something as violent and horrific as the bodies of two children—it’s traumatic. The brain processes trauma in complex ways, especially when it involves young victims. According to studies in neuropsychology, traumatic experiences, particularly those involving children, can cause the brain to release a surge of stress hormones like cortisol and adrenaline. This flood of chemicals can lead to acute emotional responses, such as anxiety and flashbacks.”

“I’ve been experiencing flashbacks,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. You met his gaze, looking for reassurance, and he gave you the space to speak, waiting patiently. “It actually started earlier today, when we arrived at the cabin. I’ve never experienced a Christmas like this, you know, the kind that feels warm and joyful. I- I don’t know if I’m making connections that aren’t there, but the feeling I had in that house was the same feeling I used to get when I was growing up.”

He tilted his head. "What feeling?"

“...Jealousy.”

His eyebrows knitted. “Jealousy?”

You nodded, swallowing hard, gathering your thoughts. “You could feel so much rage in there. Everything that made the home feel homey—that warmth, that love—was completely shattered. The way the unsub positioned the family members under the Christmas tree, the way the note was tucked into the stocking… There’s a reason for it. Christmas represents this idealized view of perfection. I don’t think the message was to prove that the company going bankrupt is some sort of imperfection in the family’s picture-perfect life. No, it feels like the unsub was jealous of their happiness. Of the fact that they had a family who seemed perfect—something he never had. He wanted to destroy it. To ruin their happiness. He could never have it, so he shattered the illusion of perfection entirely.”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, processing your words. “So you think the Reynolds’s were targeted as surrogates?”

“I guess so. But you don’t just stumble across a neighborhood as desolate as theirs.” you responded.

“It could still be one of the employees of the construction company. If Stephen bragged about his perfect family to the wrong person, it could have triggered something.”

You hummed in agreement, but Spencer could see there was more on your mind. He raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

“As I got older, I learned that blaming others wasn’t going to make me feel any better about my situation. It’s like the unsub hasn’t realized that yet. The way he executed this crime—it’s almost like a child throwing a tantrum. He was so meticulous in setting everything up, and then once he got what he wanted, he just… walked away. There was no care for the aftermath, no consideration of what would happen afterward.”

“Do you think the unsub could still be a child?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

Your mind clicked, and for the first time, the puzzle pieces seemed to fit together. “How old was the kid when he was put into foster care?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Eight. Why?” Spencer's confusion was evident.

“It’s been ten years since that house caught fire. That would make him eighteen now, and—"

Spencer’s eyes widened as realization struck. “And that he just got out of foster care.”

"Exactly," you said, rolling out of bed and storming downstairs.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Spencer called after you, quickly grabbing his cardigan from the chair in the corner of the room before hurrying to catch up.

“Be quiet, I don’t want to wake anyone.” You instructed, feeling Spencer’s presence behind you as you moved toward the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” he hissed in a whisper as you opened Garcia’s laptop on the table. You didn’t respond, your fingers already flying over the keys as you settled into a chair.

Spencer huffed, knowing full well there was no stopping you once your mind was set. He hovered behind you, draping the cardigan over your shoulders. “I’m not covering for you if Garcia finds out,” he warned, glancing over your shoulder at the screen.

“That’s fine. I know exactly what to say to win her over,” you said nonchalantly, clicking away. In your mind, the image of Spencer in the shower was still vivid—a story you could easily use to distract Penelope if it came to that.

You paused, your heart skipping a beat as you found the file. “Here it is,” you muttered, eyes scanning the information on Christopher Eriksen. You clicked to open it fully, Spencer already reading ahead of you.

“They found bruises all over his body when he was put into foster care,” he read aloud, his voice tense as the words sank in.

You leaned forward, your breath catching. “This is it,” you murmured. “His parents— they must’ve bought into that ‘perfect family’ image of the neighborhood, but behind closed doors, they were hiding this. Can you imagine what it must’ve been like for him? Everyone thinking his parents were saints, while they were hurting him? All the while, they’re the ones who get a memorial bench, their lives celebrated while they tortured him.”

“It was on Christmas that he was put into foster care. Now, it’s the first Christmas since he’s been out. It makes sense to go back to the place where it all started,” Spencer concluded.

“I need to go there,” you said urgently, slamming the laptop shut.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Spencer asked, bewildered. He immediately followed you as you rushed to the door, still in your pajamas. “You’re not seriously planning on going out like that?”

“It’s just a quick peek. I need to see if I was right about the bench,” you said, almost to yourself, already focused on the task ahead. You didn’t even glance behind you as you pulled on your shoes and yanked open the front door, wrapping Spencer’s cardigan tighter around yourself to ward off the cold.

In moments like these, Spencer knew exactly who had trained you. You were unmistakably like Gideon—determined, single-minded, and often impulsive once your mind was set. And that, in turn, always left Spencer in a state of mild panic.

“You can’t drive at night,” he said, his voice rising with concern as he followed you into the snow-covered yard. “You have nyctalopia!”

You didn’t stop, your focus unwavering. “You should take night-blindness seriously, it takes forever for your pupils to dilate, and by that time, you’ve already missed the stop sign or, I don’t know, hit a pothole or something. Your contrast sensitivity goes down, so objects blend into the background, and—did I mention the glare from headlights? Because that’s a huge problem, and it makes it worse! You’re already having trouble seeing, and now the glare from every car that passes is just blinding you. It's like trying to navigate in a fog, but it’s just light fog, which—okay, that’s a really bad analogy, but you get the point!”

His words fell into the background as you continued walking, your mind fully occupied with proving your theory. The case had been driving you mad. If you could just confirm that the bench was broken—that Christopher was the one who’d done it in a moment of anger—everything would click. The case would be solved. You’d give the Reynolds family peace. And, selfishly, you’d give yourself peace.

“Please,” Spencer begged, now standing in front of the car door, blocking your path. “If you’re going, at least let me drive.”

His comment made you halt in front of the car. “You hate driving,” you pointed out.

“I’d rather be uncomfortable for a few minutes than risk something happening to you,” he admitted.

You stared at him, feeling a surge of gratitude for how much he cared, how he believed your theory and was willing to go along with you. 

You reached out and took his hands. It was a gesture he rarely tolerated from anyone, but you’d learned over the years that Spencer appreciated it when it came from you. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Thanks, Spence,” you said softly, the words simple but your voice full of appreciation.

He swallowed, his eyes softening as he nodded. “We’ll just take a quick look, right?”

“I swear,” you promised, a reassuring smile tugging at your lips. “Just a quick look.”

He sighed, still clearly uneasy but unwilling to argue. You handed him the car keys and moved to the passenger side, sliding into the seat. 

—————

Spencer slowed the car as you neared the familiar area, the headlights casting long shadows over the snowy driveway.

"Let’s stop the car here," you suggested. The thought crossed your mind just in time—it would be very inappropriate to drive into a quiet neighborhood with an unknown car at this hour, especially after a murder had taken place.

You and Spencer stepped out of the car, the cold biting at your skin as you walked side by side. You stayed close to him, partly to keep warm, partly to follow his tracks through the snow, the dark pressing in around you. The Christmas lights that had lit up the neighborhood earlier were now off, leaving everything shrouded in an eerie quiet.

You made your way to the bench. Your hand skimmed over the smooth wood, lingering on the top right corner where you felt a distinct break—something sharp and jagged where a piece had clearly been broken off. You exhaled in relief. You were right.

Spencer’s hand shot out to gently grab your wrist, his fingers warm against the cold night air. "Careful," he said, his voice low but insistent. "You don’t want splinters. Stay here, I’ll grab a flashlight from the car."

You nodded, watching as his footsteps faded into the distance, swallowed by the thick darkness around you.

Alone now, you scanned the area. Everything was still and silent, save for the occasional crunch of snow beneath your feet. Your eyes were drawn to a dim light flickering from inside the rebuilt house where the Eriksens used to live, just past the bench. Curiosity nudged you forward, and before you could second-guess yourself, your feet were already moving toward the light.

You crept closer to the window, standing on your toes to peer inside. The house was barely furnished, still very much in the process of being worked on before it could be sold. You pressed your hands against the cold glass, forming makeshift goggles with your fingers, your face just inches away from the window as you tried to get a better look.

A sudden pressure on your stomach snapped you out of your thoughts. Before you could react, an arm tightened around your waist, yanking you away from the glass. For a brief moment you thought Spencer was playing some kind of prank, trying to startle you—but the movement was so fast and forceful, you knew Spencer would never grab you that aggressively.

Your gasp caught in your throat, immediately silenced as a cold, rough hand clamped over your mouth. Panic surged, but your body went stiff when the sharp edge of a knife pressed to your throat. You didn’t need any further confirmation that this was the unsub.

"I don’t know who you are," the voice rasped, low and dangerous, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. "But you shouldn’t have shown up here."

The tension in his voice was unmistakable. You could feel his rage, his plan disrupted by your unexpected presence. Every instinct screamed at you to fight back, but you remained frozen, knowing that one wrong move could end it all.

“I didn’t plan on killing anyone innocent, but you’ve put yourself in this situation,” he spat, his grip tightening on the knife.

In that fleeting moment, you made a decision. Taking a leap of faith, you sank your teeth into the soft flesh of his palm. The sudden bite startled him, and by sheer luck, he loosened his grip on the weapon.

“Christopher!” You shouted, the name ringing out with urgency.

It was enough to catch him off guard. In that instant, you turned, quickly positioning yourself with a better angle. He was taller than you—still, just a boy, consumed by something far beyond his control. His pain was evident, lurking beneath the fury in his eyes. You knew this wasn’t what he wanted. 

“Who are you?” His voice was strained, the words gripping with suspicion and confusion.

“I’m here to help you,” you said sincerely, keeping your voice steady.

“No, you’re not,” he denied.

“I swear I am. I know what happened to you. I know what your parents did to you.”

Without warning, he shoved you hard against the house. Your head slammed into the window, a sharp pain exploding in your skull. “You don’t know anything!” he screamed.

“I do, Christopher. I do!” The words came from a place of desperation, your breath ragged. “I understand. I know how much this eats at you, how alone you feel because you’re the only one who knows the truth. But it doesn’t have to be like this. You don’t have to hurt anyone else. The truth will come out. People will know what your parents did, what really happened here. You’ll get what you want, the world will see that they’re not perfect.”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes—something soft, vulnerable. 

“They all knew what happened!” He said in anger, pointing at the houses surrounding you. “They all knew and no one said anything!” He shook his head, “I’ll never get what I want. It’s too late for that.” he muttered bitterly.

Despite his words, you felt a flicker of hope. He was talking. He was listening. That had to count for something.

“It’s not too late, Christopher,” you said, your voice gentle but firm. “I thought the same thing once. But family… family isn’t just the people you’re born to. You can build your own, one that will love you despite everything. I’ve got that family now.”

He swallowed hard, his face momentarily flickering with doubt. “I wish I could believe you,” he said, his voice quiet, tinged with regret.

And then, in a flash, his arm shot out. Instinctively, you braced yourself, squeezing your eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable strike.

As the seconds stretched on, memories—both regrets and cherished moments—flashed before your eyes, a cruel reminder of everything you had to lose.

But then, a loud thud echoed in the night. Christopher crumpled to the ground, his body going limp. You whipped your head up, heart in throat, and saw Spencer standing behind him, the butt of his gun covered in blood, the impact of the blow knocking Christopher out cold. 

A shaky breath escaped you, half a sob, half a gasp of relief. You stumbled toward Spencer, your legs nearly giving out as you threw yourself into his arms. 

“I’m so sorry,” you cried into his chest, voice cracking. “I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have—”

He shushed you softly, brushing a hand through your hair as he held you close. “It’s okay. You’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

Twenty minutes later, the team and the police arrived. Spencer had called Hotch the second you’d calmed down enough, and by the time they got there, Christopher was still passed out. The officers dragged him into the back of their car, while JJ and Prentiss took it upon themselves to reassure the neighbors that they had someone in custody.

You knew exactly what was coming when Hotch finally made his way over to you and Spencer, but your head was pounding too much to care.

Hotch scanned the two of you with a sharp, disapproving look. “Really? You went to catch an unsub in your pajamas?”

“The whole ‘catching the unsub’ thing wasn’t exactly part of the plan,” you muttered, wincing slightly as the headache flared.

Hotch exhaled sharply, then turned to Spencer, his gaze a little more pointed. “I could’ve expected this from her, but I expected better from you, Reid.”

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, knowing there was no defense. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Hotch gave a sigh in response, his expression softening just a fraction. “I’m too tired to deal with the two of you right now. I expect to see both of you in my office in the morning.”

“Actually, I checked all the rooms in the cabin, and there’s no office. Which is surprising, considering—”

“Spence,” you interrupted him with a nudge of your elbow.

He shot you a tight-lipped look, turning back to Hotch. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

—————

The second you closed the car door behind you and buckled your seatbelt, you passed out. You’d always slept best during car rides, and especially now, with your mind much quieter now that Christopher Eriksen wasn’t your problem anymore.

When you finally arrived back at the cabin, you were still sound asleep. Derek told Spencer to wake you, but he didn’t have it in him. Instead, he carefully made his way to your side of the car, unbuckling your seatbelt. He lifted you into his arms, trying not to huff too loudly as he carried you through the thick snow. He made his way up the stairs quickly, hoping Penelope wouldn’t notice the wet tracks from his boots inside the house—he couldn’t take them off while holding you.

He was glad you were in your pajamas as he gently laid you on the bed. He walked over to the closet, grabbing some extra blankets and draping them over you, hoping it would help you regain some warmth.

Then, he crawled into bed beside you. Closer than he would’ve dared if you were awake, not quite touching, but close enough to share body heat. His gaze lingered on you, watching how peaceful you looked. The night had been a lot to handle, but he knew he’d do it all again if it meant keeping you safe.

The bright light reflected off the snow outside, filtering into the room. Groaning, you rubbed your eyes, the movement only making your headache worse. You huffed and carefully opened your eyes, being met with the sight of Spencer. His hair was a curly mess, and a small, warm smile painted his face.

“Hey, how’s your head?” he asked softly.

The events of last night rushed back to you, and you groaned again. “So, all of that really happened?”

“It did,” Spencer confirmed.

“I really hoped I just got drunk on too much Glühwein,” you sighed, wincing at the thought.

“You can still do that tonight,” he teased.

“No,” you muttered in disgust. “I need to recover from this first.”

You glanced over at him again, seeing the concern still shining in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for putting you in that situation last night,” you said quietly. “Everything about it was just... stupid.”

“If you hadn’t insisted on going, who knows who else he could’ve hurt,” Spencer pointed out.

“I guess that’s true.” You thought about it for a second, the weight lifting slightly. “Still, I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.”

“I’m glad I went with you,” Spencer said, his voice softening. “If I hadn’t... I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened to you. I would never forgive myself if I wouldn’t have been there in time.”

You gave a heavy sigh, turning your gaze to the ceiling. “That’s why it’s probably best we stay friends,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. Despite Emily’s pep talk, this was proof that it wouldn’t be wise to start something serious with Spencer.

“Friends instead of what?” Spencer asked, his voice higher, as if eager to hear the answer.

“Instead of us dating,” you said, almost offhandedly, not realizing you were speaking aloud about something you’d never discussed before, even though the topic would come up eventually.

Spencer froze, his eyes wide, hope flickering in them as he looked at you. “You would date me?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You froze too, catching up with the fact that you had said that out loud. Your cheeks warmed, and you immediately turned your gaze to the ceiling, not daring to look at his expression.

“Uh—hypothetically,” you stammered, scrambling to cover your tracks.

“You would hypothetically date me?”

You swallowed, still too flustered to look at him. “Yes. If... you would, I mean. If you wanted that, too...?”

Spencer was silent for a beat, his gaze never leaving you. “Do you really mean that?”

“Yes,” you answered, your voice steady despite the racing thoughts in your head.

He slowly moved closer to you, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. You flinched back instinctively, and he immediately withdrew his hand, his expression apologetic.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your heart beating faster.

“You said you’d want to date me,” he murmured, his voice unsure.

“Yes, but—” you stopped yourself as the realization hit that he was planning to kiss you. “Oh.”

Tentatively, you reached out and placed your hand on his cheek. You leaned in a little, but this time it was him who pulled back.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice breathless.

“Kissing you.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, his tongue darting over his lips. “Okay.”

You smiled softly, then closed the distance, your lips gently pressing to his.

Spencer hummed in satisfaction, both of you staying like that for a moment, neither of you wanting to pull away. You were the first to break the kiss, catching your breath. If it were up to Spencer, he’d keep his lips on yours forever.

Your eyes fluttered open, faces still inches apart. Spencer cupped your face and pulled you back in, placing several soft pecks on your lips before he leaned on his arm, slightly hovering over you as he deepened the kiss.

You tried to mirror his movements, but a sharp pain shot through your skull. “Ouch,” you hissed, pulling back.

“Just lay down, let me take care of you,” Spencer assured, the warmth of his words making your heart flutter. You slowly lower yourself onto your back, the soft sheets crinkling beneath you, and Spencer moves above you, the blankets still covering both of you.

His lips found yours again. He kept them slightly parted, giving you the chance to slide your tongue against his. The world outside seemed to disappear as you melted into each other, lips moving in sync.

The kisses become more heated, each one a little deeper than the last. His hand moved to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek, the other hand resting on your side, his touch sending little sparks of warmth wherever it brushed.

You could feel the heat between you growing. “I’m so warm…” you mumbled against his lips. 

His eyes darkened slightly. “Yeah?” His voice was rough as his fingers lightly trailed over the buttons of your pyjama shirt. “Do you want me to take this off?”

You nodded, and he slowly started undoing each button with purposeful care. His gaze flickering between your eyes and the exposed skin. He let out a moan when your shirt finally fell open, his eyes taking you in. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out in awe, before pressing his lips to yours again. 

You responded eagerly, your hands fumbling between your bodies to undo his shirt in the same way. You slid the fabric off his shoulders, letting your hands run over the muscles of his back, feeling the heat of his skin. 

He gently pressed his body weight down on you, and you shuddered at the feeling of your nipples pressing against his bare chest.

His lips delicately kissed your face, until he reached your ear. He nipped at your lobe, sending a jolt of heat straight to your core. “Do you like that?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You answered in a soft moan, your body arching into him. He didn’t need to ask again; he could tell you were enjoying this as much as he was.

His lips slid lower, kissing and sucking on your neck, while his hand slid down to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, teasing circles.

His mouth moved to your collarbone, and then he teasingly dipped lower.

“God, Spence,” you softly moaned as he placed a wet kiss on your lower stomach. “That feels so good.”

His hand, which has been resting on your breast, trails down until it reaches the waistband of your pyjama pants.

“More, please,” you whimpered, lifting your hips instinctively. His fingers slide around the band as he slowly pulls them down, his eyes drinking in the sight of you.

He lowers himself onto his stomach on the mattress. With a tender touch, he lifts your legs over his shoulders.

“Is this okay?”

For a moment, you’ve lost yourself in his gaze—those warm brown eyes looking up at you, his pink lips swollen from his kisses…

“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond, nodding.

You moaned as his mouth made contact with your inner thighs, his tongue warm and wet against your skin. He took his time, kissing his way to the sensitive spot where you needed him most.

“Spencer…” you breathed, your voice shaky with need.

The anticipation was unbearable as his hot breath tickled you, but you didn’t have to wait much longer. Slowly, his tongue flicked over your pussy, and you gasped, your body trembling at the touch.

He moaned in response, as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you, his tongue swirling in soft, teasing motions that had your hips lifting off the bed in search of more. 

“So fucking sweet,” he muttered against you, before repeating the motion, licking you again and again, while he grinded himself against the matress.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him closer, deeper, your body quivering as he continued. He alternated between sucking and licking your clit, his finger moving up and down your pussy until it entered you gently, then slowly adding another, the stretch an overwhelming pleasure. 

You gasped his name, your body writhing beneath him as the pressure built with every move. “Spencer… please, don’t stop…” you begged, voice thick with need.

His fingers curled inside you, pressing just the right spot as his tongue continued swirling around you. Your legs started trembling as you reached the edge.

“I’m—“ you gasped, but the words dissolved into a string of moans as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your legs were shaking as you came undone, clenching around his fingers, your hips bucking against his mouth. 

Spencer didn’t stop, though. He kept going at a gentle pace, letting you ride out the intensity of your orgasm. Then, he slowly pulled away, his lips glistening as he looked up at you, eyes wide and full of wonder. 

“Was that good?” he asked softly, licking his lips. 

You laughed breathlessly as you nodded, your chest still rising and falling rapidly. “Come here,” you whispered seductively, pulling him in by the back of his neck to kiss him. You could taste yourself on his lips, which only added to your arousal.

Spencer’s eyes darkened with desire, his forehead pressed to yours. “I need you. I need to be inside of you.”

You nodded, moving your hand down his body, feeling the hardness of him against your palm. He helped you pull his pants down, and you stroked him gently, feeling him twitch in your hand before guiding him toward your entrance. He let out a low groan, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly pushed into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, his hips stuttering as he filled you completely. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his thrusts grew deeper, more urgent.

You could feel every inch of him, every movement as his cock repeatedly hit those places inside that made your head spin. The room was filled with the sound of skin against skin, your moans mixing with his ragged breaths.

“You’re so warm,” Spencer whimpered. “So perfect for me.” 

Your hands gripped his back, nails digging into his skin as you urged him on, your body moving with his. His pace quickened, and you couldn’t hold back the desperate cries that escaped you. 

“Spencer… I’m so close,” you gasped.

“Me too,” he moaned, his hips slamming into yours. “Let me come with you. Please, let me come with you.”

You nodded, your body trembling. “Now, Spencer…” you begged in a breathless plea.

His breath hitched, his body tensing as he gave one last deep thrust, and then, with a loud, guttural moan, he came inside you. You followed a moment later, your body clenching around him as you fell apart. 

The room was filled with nothing but your ragged breaths, the sound of two bodies, tangled in a quiet, shared moment of bliss. Spencer collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling as he took your hand in his, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it.

“That was… perfect,” he whispered, his voice full of awe.

You smiled softly as you placed your head on his chest, fingers lazily tracing his stomach. “Yeah,” you said in a breath, your heart full of him. “It really was.”

You let out a soft groan as Spencer stood up, and you instinctively reached for his hand, pulling him back toward you. “Don’t go yet,” you pouted.

Spencer smiled, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of amusement and affection. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, wrapping a blanket around his waist before walking to the corner of the room. He rummaged through his bag, his back turned to you for a moment as you blatantly checked him out.

“I miss you,” you murmured, leaning back into the pillows.

He chuckled softly, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m not even five feet away from you.”

You shrugged, your voice a little teasing. “Still feels like you're miles away.”

With a smile, he walked back toward you, sitting down on the edge of the bed, his hands behind his back. “Which hand?” he playfully asked.

“Left,” you replied without hesitation.

He swiftly shifted the small box he’d been holding from his right hand to his left, then grinned, revealing the gift. “Here you go.”

You blinked in surprise. “That was your present?” you asked, your voice filled with wonder as you recognized the familiar wrapping Garcia had handed you the day before.

Spencer nodded, watching you closely. “Yeah. Open it.”

Your hands trembled slightly as you unwrapped the gift, your heart racing with excitement. Beneath the paper was a velvet black jewelry box. You glanced up at Spencer, your eyes searching his for reassurance. He gave a soft nod, his smile encouraging.

With a gentle flick of your fingers, you opened the box—and there, nestled inside, was the most stunning heart-shaped locket you’d ever seen.

“Oh my God, Spencer,” you breathed, your voice a mixture of awe and disbelief. “It’s… it’s beautiful.”

A shy smile tugged at Spencer’s lips as he ran a hand through his hair, pushing it behind his ear. “It used to be my mom’s,” he said. “She doesn’t wear jewelry much anymore, but she wanted me to keep it... to give it to someone special one day.”

Your heart melted at the thought, and you looked at him with newfound tenderness, the weight of his gesture sinking in. 

“She was happy when I told her I wanted to give it to you,” he added, his eyes soft with sincerity.

Your eyes widened slightly. “Your mom knows about me?”

Spencer nodded, a faint blush creeping up his neck. “I tell her pretty much everything. She likes hearing about you most.”

“Why?” You curiously asked.

Spencer's smile deepened, and he looked down at his lap for a moment, as though gathering courage. When he looked up at you again, his eyes were soft, full of love.

“Because you make me happy.”

After your intimate moment with Spencer, the inevitable conversation with Hotch had to happen. Just before the talk, Hotch received a call from the lab confirming the DNA found on the Reynolds matched Christopher Eriksen’s—meaning the bittersweet news of Christopher going to prison.

“I still don’t get how the two smartest people on the team act like half a brain when they’re together,” Hotch had said with a half-smile, glancing at you and Spencer. “But… you did good work.”

—————

Later that morning, Emily spotted you, her eyes immediately drawn to the locket around your neck. “Fancy,” she commented, her smirk growing as she cocked an eyebrow. “Where did that come from?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you absently played with the necklace, a soft smile on your lips. “It’s Spencer’s. He gave it to me.”

Emily’s smirk turned into a knowing smile, and you could see the proud glint in her eyes. “You two are something else.”

—————

Throughout the day you and Spencer did your own thing, trying to act casual in front of the team—yet every time his hand brushed your back or he leaned in for a quick kiss in the empty hallway, your heart fluttered. You couldn’t help but sneak glances at him as he played chess with Rossi, your eyes catching his in those fleeting moments.

You felt Spencer’s presence behind you like a familiar warmth as you stood in the kitchen. He slipped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses.

“Who would’ve thought you’d be such a romantic?” you mused, running your fingers through his hair, the feeling of him against you enough to make your heart race.

His lips hummed against your skin. “It’s your fault,” he stated, his voice thick with affection. “You drive me crazy.”

You tugged him up the stairs to your shared room, pushing him playfully onto the bed. You stood between his legs as you began to slowly peel away your clothes, revealing the red laced lingerie set Derek had gifted you during Secret Santa.

“Never thought I’d be thanking Derek for gifting you this,” Spencer mused, his hands sliding up and down your legs, a smirk displayed on his lips.

You smiled, tracing his jaw with your thumb, the heat between you growing. “What do you think of checking out the hot tub?” you purred.

He swallowed nervously, his eyes flicking down to his lap. You rolled your eyes as you responded in a sigh, “You can choose the temperature.”

Before you could say another word, he scooped you up, lifting you over his shoulder with a playful slap to your ass. You yelped, giggling as he carried you off toward the bathroom.

—————

The cabin was large, but unfortunately not big enough to avoid Garcia, so you knew what was coming when you heard the familiar sound of her heels clicking against the hallway floor. She was heading straight toward you, her finger pointing accusingly at you.

“I slept with Spencer.” you hurriedly spilled out before she could say something.

She stopped in her tracks. Her face went through a thousand different expressions in the blink of an eye—confusion, disbelief, excitement—before she finally let out a high-pitched squeal. “You... you slept with Spencer?”

“Twice,” you giddily answered, the smile creeping across your face before you could stop it.

Garcia’s expression finally broke into a huge grin, and without missing a beat, she grabbed your hands and started bouncing on the spot. “Derek is gonna lose his mind!”

You barely had time to protest before she was already up the stairs.

As the end of the day drew near, the group gathered around the fire pit in the backyard, cocoa mugs in hand, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on everyone’s faces. 

“Are you sure your phone is on silent?” Garcia asked Hotch, eyeing him with suspicion.

“I’m sure, Garcia,” Hotch replied with a small smile.

She was satisfied, her focus shifting to Rossi. “The honor is yours. You may present the last Secret Santa gift.”

Rossi cleared his throat, glancing around awkwardly. “Now, this might sound like a cheap excuse for forgetting to buy a present…” Laughter rippled through the group, and Garcia shot him an offended look. “But... I think I can speak for all of us when I say the best gift is us being together in this beautiful location.”

He turned to Hotch, his voice genuine. “Aaron, you’ve built a good team here. A good family. You should be proud.”

Hotch’s smile softened, his eyes briefly glancing over the group, the weight of the moment settling on him. “I am. Thank you, David.”

And for the first time, you didn’t question whether you deserved a place in this loving, dysfunctional family—you knew you belonged.

[algae-tm]

ICK

F1 Grid x Rapper!Reader (platonic)

Summary : You’re birthday party leads to immense hangxiety, and an overly persistent suitor.

Currently Playing : Ick by Lay Bankz

Warnings : mentions of sex, I do not dislike Lando Norris I just needed someone to be pathetic, I worry I made him a bit too pathetic…

••••

INSTAGRAM

yourusername just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and others

yourusername getting ready > going out

view all comments

user1 who cares about the met gala, we all wait a yr to see what y/n’s wearing to her birthday party

user3 lando’s comment incoming in 3… 2… 1…

landonorris can’t wait for tonight gorjus 😍😍

— landonorris georgeous*

— landonorris goregus*

— landonorris you look really pretty!

— user5 oh brother this guy stinks!

— user10 he got an invite this year?

— user8 my brother in Christ she doesn’t want you!

MESSAGES

MESSAGES LATER THAT NIGHT

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris and others

yourusername hangxiety so bad I had to schedule a girls trip

view all comments

user1 to be a fly on the wall for that debrief

kellypiquet y/n I am so sorry - Max

— yourusername do y’all hear something?

— user5 wait why is commenting from Kelly’s acc?

— yourusername I blocked him

landonorris looking beautiful baby 😘😘

— kellypiquet Lando be so serious rn - Max

— oscarpiastri Lando pls step away from the phone

— user8 bro you’re the lame she’s talking about 🫵

— user7 ick so strong it transcends borders

charles_leclerc well I had fun last night!

— yourusername yeah we could tell buddy, Alex had to carry you home

— charles_leclerc my girl is so strong 😍😍

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton and others

yourusername bad bitches rise!

view all comments

alexandrasaintmleux like a phoenix from the ashes

— yourusername still I rise ✊🏾

— user1 she may have fallen but she got back up

maxverstappen1 y/n I am sorry!!!!

— yourusername dude had one job

user7 was it deranged and out of pocket? maybe! Was it also real as fuck? Absofuckinglutely!!

— user8 idk I thought it was a bit too mean, he just has a small crush and to write a song is just a bit :/

— yourusername oh my god 🙄 he is FINE y’all, perfectly fine, please don’t call paw patrol

— user9 pls be serious he’s obsessed he’s probs gunna comment on this post as well

landonorris 🤩🤩

— user9 if I was him I wouldn’t show my face for 31 business days

— oscarpiastri keep commenting bro she definitely wants you!

— yourusername I fear this is my life now

••••••

Someone asked me to add them to the tag list, I very much did not do it, and now I’ve lost the ask… if that was you I’m so sorry 😭

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

@dontworryaboutitokie

@c-losur3

@chuxk-lerclerk

@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

@destinyg237

@aliorasspace

[katiascraft]

✐ᝰ "You knew all too well i was right where you left me" | CL16 ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊

parings: retired!charles leclerc x writer!ex!reader

series summary: It’s the story of a woman frozen in the moment her world fell apart. A perfect dinner ended with, “I met someone else,” and while everyone moved on, she remained stuck in that instant, unable to let go of the past. A poignant tale of heartbreak, grief, and the weight of being trapped in a “forever” that never was.

‎[one / two / three / four / current / six...]

chapter five

"there'll be happiness after you but there was happiness because of you too"

word count: 6k.

BLOG MASTERLIST - series masterlist

⋆˚࿔ i did something bad 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The kiss that started sweet and gentle turned into a passionate and steamy kiss in a fraction of a second. Franco felt kind of desperate. And to be fair, he was. He has waited his whole life for this moment to happen. Or at least all of these years since he met you. But he was convinced he won’t ever feel like this for any other girl in his entire life. He dated girls, fucked a few, played with them sometimes, tried to make it work. But none of them felt like you, laughed like you, thought like you, joked like you. None of them were you. And what was the craziest thing to him was that he had never tasted you. Not like this. He felt raised to heaven blessed by the gods. He felt like a kid who behaved properly and Santa brought him all of the presents he asked for during the year. A dream came true.  

His hands were all over your back and hips. His touch was warm and determined. He felt like he wanted to remember how you felt, the shape of you under his touch, how your skin felt, how warm he made you feel. 

His kisses were tracing a road down your neck. His lips were soft and wet. They made your skin crawl. Your fingers in his hair and shoulders trying to remain stood under his embrace. His skin was soft and his perfume was leaving you drunker by its whiskey scent. That smell defined him very well in your opinion. His skin was on fire. You couldn’t help but feel things you aren’t supposed to feel with your best friend. Well, you were doing things you’re not supposed to do with your bestie either. 

Your breath was heavy. Your heart rate elevated. He came back to your lips and the way he kisses you gently again burnt your body. You felt a heat you haven’t felt in a long time for anyone. If you didn’t remember to be this intense before. Franco was franco. And that implied that everything was different. Unique. He wasn’t like other guys. I mean, he was the most cheerful guy you have ever met. You couldn’t stop laughing around him. It  was impossible not to or have a serious conversation. But at the same time he was such a great listener. When you told him about Charles that you ended up crying, he was the most comforting person. You knew at that moment your friendship made a turn. A turn into one of the most precious relationships you have in your life. He was so comprehensive. It is actually so rare to meet someone like that in this fucked up society these days. 

And for some reason or maybe for all of those reasons, this felt really wrong. You didn’t want to hurt him. You always knew he liked you, of course you did. It was obvious. The way he looked at you. All out of context presents or compliments. All of his invitations to every grand prix during the year. The facetime calls at random times in the day just to check in. and you liked all of that but always tried to make sure you didn’t play with his feelings. Respecting spaces and distances. Codes. He was really important to you, you just couldn’t risk him just like that. Just for a kiss or sex. He deserved to be so happy with someone 100% into him. And you kinda hated destiny for making him like you when you were stuck with Charles and always into someone else (even failing every time). 

But now you hate yourself even more. Not only because you liked to torture yourself in a really twisted way. But also because you were actually kissing him and touching him in not a friendly way. Not the way you’re supposed to touch him. Or to kiss him. Or to spend your time with him. This was so wrong. You knew this would lead to drama. And the worst part is that you couldn’t stop. And maybe you didn’t want to. And why didn’t you? What is your brain planning to do? Making every situation you’re in worse than the previous one. 

And it was the worst scenario possible. You don’t know how you both ended up in Franco's room. His shirt was already off. Your lips were kissing his stomach going down. It was the best situation for him, that’s for sure. You promised to never get this drunk ever again. You stood up after reaching his boxers with your lips. And kissed him again like you wanted to rescued yourself from fuck it all up but at the same time not stopping at all. You were driving Franco insane and for a moment he felt a bit empty. Was this the beginning of something? Or was it just a once in a lifetime night? Thinking about all of this started hunting him. You have never given him signs that you liked him back. But you were one of his best friends. His hands grabbed your head possessively bringing you closer to him starting to lead you to his bed. You followed him, letting him do whatever he wanted with you. 

Were you ready to do this again? 

Surprising as it may sound, you haven’t had sex in a very long time. You liked to have fun with yourself and explore yourself. But it was hard for you to feel something towards someone and desire them this way. Because the only one who used to turn you on was charles. And there he was again in your head. He was always there hunting you. Franco pushed you softly into his bed climbing up on you. And that’s when you woke up from this trance you couldn’t quite comprehend. He was about to undress you when you pushed him again as softly as you could because you were now exasperated about the situation you put yourself under. Franco looked at you scared. He felt he has really fucked it up. 

“y/n i’m sorry, please. Perdon, I didn't mean to.. I’m sorry” he said, getting up and pulling his shirt on again as fast as he could. You tried to adjust yourself heading out the bedroom. You couldn’t face him now. You felt terrible about yourself. You didn’t know how to handle this situation. You were too drunk. But you also knew you wouldn’t know how to deal with this sober either. “y/n wait, please. Let’s talk” he could grab your hand to stop you from leaving the bedroom making you face him. You felt so embarrassed. You felt like a monster. You looked at his face. He was such a good guy and yet here you are about to break his heart. Why didn’t you stop? Why did you let him do this? You knew it was not only your responsibility, it was his as well but still. 

“I'm sorry fran, this shouldn’t have happened. I'm really sorry” when you said those words you could see how his face changed into a one that even broke your heart. He dropped your hand. He knew. He fucking knew you didn’t like him. Then why would you do this? And on his birthday?

You sprinted out of that room immediately. We can say you almost ran away from him. But the reality was that you wanted to run away from yourself and your stupid ass decisions who fucked everything up each single time. The hallway down to where the party was being held never felt so infinite. You knew your anxiety was becoming a bit too much for you at that moment. Catastrophic scenarios were playing on and on in your mind as you took each step down the stairs. The pressure in your chest increases when you see the people at the party. You felt like they were looking at you, judging. Laughing in your face. Howpathetic could you be? Not getting over your only ex fro more than 10 years, then almost fuck your friend thhat you wasn’t sure if you liked him like that for real or not,  then wanting to be over everything and then fucking everything up. You didn't know how to handle these situations. You felt like a teenager again. Too many mistakes. Too confusing. That made you feel ashamed of yourself. You were a 32 years old woman, acting like 17 years old, fucking up friendships while you couldn’t stop thinking of your ex. And that’s when you wanted to throw up. 

You didn’t want to find your friends. You didn’t want to tell them how you fuck it up with the one guy (once again) that is good for you. How you wasted his time and feelings. You felt like a monster. Like you played with him on purpose even if you actually didn’t want to. You were way too harsh on yourself sometimes. You needed to get out of there just like you got away when you first saw Charles again in that restaurant (or well, now it’s a coffee shop). 

It was running away from your fears, you couldn’t confront them. It was running away from you. You hated yourself. You couldn’t think straight and clear about yourself most of the time. The only moment you trusted yourself was when writing. And you also doubted yourself very much on it. You couldn’t win. Your self-confidence didn’t exist. You were sure about it. People were dancing while you were pushing them a bit to walk through the party out to the garden. You need fresh air in your brain as soon as possible. Or you were about to become insane if you didn’t. People said things to you but you didn’t hear. Your eyes locked on the floor. Your stomach was in your throat. The image of Charles stuck in your brain. 

I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. I met someone. 

His lips moved, pronouncing those damn three words to your face. As if they were nothing. As if you were nothing at all for him. And maybe you were. You couldn’t imagine Franco saying those things to you, for example. Or maybe men were equal? Maybe you needed to experiment with girls. Maybe they are less complicated and more open. But maybe you were the problem. Too many thoughts per second. You jumped out of every single boat you ended up in. You didn’t know anymore. In your brain, things are too complicated and you know all too well you will need years to repair the damage made to it. From your dad and mum, to Charles and every single other guy you mate. To Franco and to this balcony where you would find someone maybe ready to love you like you matter, like you deserve to feel loved, like you’re amazing and beautiful. Then you were sure you were completely insane. There was no way you were always thinking about someone saving you from yourself. But there you were hoping to meet the love of your life in that gallery outside the party in Franco's house. Maybe writing and your imagination was rotting your brain. You thought about retiring and working in a library as a normal person would do. You didn’t know why you were thinking all of these things suddenly. 

Maybe you were tired and frustrated. You just gave up when you finally got to the garden. The cold air of London fills your lungs, helping you with your anxiety. Your body heat dropped. Your sweaty hands got dry and cold. Your nose is red. Your eyes closed. You were doing your breathing meditation. Your heart palpitations didn’t stop though. And they were fast. Faster than Charles getting over you and everything you built. Faster than you ruining the friendship with franco. Faster than you waiting for someone to save you. Your life sucked. You really didn’t want to think about it like that. But you did. Most times you just couldn't see positive things in it. You felt like a failure. A loser. You didn’t have a lover nor a family. A loser that’s what you were. A complete failure. You had almost no family as well. No father, no mother. Just a brother and a sister who lived on the other side of the world and barely talked to you. Your only family was agostina, your best friend. And she was everything you were not. She has the perfect lover with whom she built a beautiful family of five. Her kids were lovely. She was gorgeous and the greatest person you knew. She was exactly everything you were not. But you didn't hate her. Of course you didn't. You would never think of her like that. It made you as sad as happy for her. Sad for you. Happy for her. 

Why can’t you live something like that? 

“Hey, you okay?” you jumped a little scared because of the sudden interruption to your thoughts and sadness. You turned to your side to find that guy. I think it was Lando's name or something like that Nikola said a few hours ago. When he brought you back to reality you realized you were crying hard. Your face bathed in tears. Cold and puffy. His face was concerned. His eyes are shiny, so blue and green. You found his face so pretty to look at. Alcohol was still in your veins, otherwise you wouldn’t be here crying so dramatically. You would try to hide it. Always. 

⋆˚࿔ let it happen 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Your eyes were on his eyes. Yours were red and puffy. His red is tired and shiny. You stayed in silence for a moment. You answered his question when he saw your face. Something in him cracked for some reason. Oh, he did know you very well. He saw you on that balcony and now that he has you right in front of him, he couldn’t believe you being more beautiful than on that day, but you actually are. He promised Charles he wouldn’t even try but he talked to Carlos about it. Carlos wanted Charles to move on but he was making a move on you and was crossing the line. 

He looked down to his water bottle on his right hand. “Do you want some? Maybe you feel better” he said with a deep voice. He was nervous as hell. Alcohol in his veins as like in yours. He saw your smile. Your face was so pretty. You looked so cute with the boca juniors shirton. He had one as well. He didn’t think they were his colors, blue and yellow, not his thing. But you looked so pretty in them. All of the girls at the party were dressed looking hot as hell. But you and your friends looked cute. Relaxed outfits for the win. And that made you look all so attractive or at least for him. He recognized you a few hours ago. He was kinda shocked to see you there because he has never seen you near franco like ever. You didn’t go to the races nor comment on Franco's posts. Or anything at all. Then here you are. He saw kissing him. He saw you two going up the stairs. Alcohol didn’t let him analizy things properly even if he tried his best in doing so. 

Your fingers that grabbed the bottle from his hand, brushed his sending electricity throughout his arm. He smiled gently at you watching you drink from it. 

“Thank you, and sorry you had to see me cry” you told him, giving his bottle back and he smiled so pretty, shaking his head. You found him so attractive. You were just trying not to be so obvious. Also, you were worried to look like a slut if he saw you kissing Franco before. But why did you care so much? Why were you thinking all of these things about him? 

“Oh no, don’t be sorry. You still look cute tho” he said giggling a bit making you laugh a bit as well. You shook your head not agreeing with him. 

“Thank you again, but no need to lie about that tho” you told him a little funny. 

“I promise I'm not lying. You're pretty even crying” he confessed, making you blush. “You okay? Need to talk or something?” he asked to checkon you even if you were strangers. “Im lando by the way” he introduced himself so this wasn’t that weird. 

“I’m y/n. Nice to meet you. I think I'm better now, I just made a lot of stupid decisions throughout my life that now alcohol just reminds me how much of a loser I am” you were honest. More honest than you would be with anyone. You just blamed the alcohol. 

“Hey, I don't think you’re a loser y/n. I mean, I know we don’t know each other at all. But for me, you don’t look like a loser at all” he expressed. You looked out to the garden in front of you a bit ashamed. 

“Appearances can lie, you know? I’m a loser, I promise you. I’m still stuuckin a fucking restaurante knowing all too well i should’ve move on years ago. But here I am. Fucking up friendships and any opportunity i have to get better and be happy. I just hate myself so much. I won’t ever be happy” you gave up. You no longer cared about what people would think. You didn’t care if he thought you were crazy for telling him so much private stuff. You barely know his name. But there you were comfortable enough to confess your depression to him. He analyzed you. Every detail of your face. Each word you used to describe yourself. 

“I don’t think that makes you a loser still. I think you’re brave enough to tell a stranger how you feel and in my opinion, that takes strength and confidence. And i think you will be happy, you just need to let yourself be” his words hung on the air between you two. Why was a stranger talking to her? Why was he saying things she needed to here? Why his words were important? You were sure he  knew how much of a mess you were. It shows. You were sure. But still he was here. Right when you want someone here waiting for you ready to save you.  Is this who will save you? Are you out of your mind for thinking like this about him? 

Delusion was thinking he will be just like charles wright? You had no idea who this guy was but still you compared him to charles. Because you didn’t want to date Charles again or anyone like him. Or did you? You didn’t know how you felt about all of this. About charles. About yourself. About this guy you don't even know and you want him already to save you just because he called you brave and strong and pretty. Was that really enough for you? Was that the standard you had for yourself? He could be a serial killer right? But you could save him. He could love you. And you would forget about charles. About his touch. About his voice and laugh. About his jokes and moans. About his perfume. About his family and friends. About his cars. About everything related to him. 

But was it fair to love someone to stop loving someone else? 

Did you still love Charles? 

You looked at him again. Your eyes connected. He smiled shyly. You did as well. Maybe you could let this guy ruin you just like Charles did, just because of his face, and his voice and what he said to you without even knowing you. You should get your shit together. You still reeling that fucking monaguesque guy. But at this point you didn’t care anymore. Or at least that’s what you thought. He got closer and kissed your cheek, that took you by surprise but you liked it. Probably way too much.

“I know without knowing you that you’re amazing. You just need to believe it. I’m sure you’ll find someone who sees you” he added and your smile became wider. 

“Thank you, lando.wow. Any stranger said so many nice things about me” you half joked shyly and his cheeks went red. His giggles were the cutest sound you have heard lately. Where was this guy? 

Then you remembered Franco and that this guy probably is his friend. And your back at your self hate again.

Why did everything have to be so difficult?

Why do you have to make so many mistakes at once? 

“y/n, we need your help” Dottie's voice interrupted you two. Her voice seemed worried. “Betty is way too drunk, it’s better if we go home now” she explained, a little suspicious of your both body languages. You nodded. 

“Alright, let’s go. Nice to meet you Lando, hope to talk to you another time though so it’s not that depressing. I promise im fun” you said a bit funny but hurried. Your friend first, always. You kissed his cheek quickly. He laughed about your comment. 

“Oh yea, she is,” Dottie added, supporting you in a smile.

“Hope to see you again sometime, Y/n. good luck with your friend” he said to both of you and after smiling at him you went into the party again.

“D, I think I'm in love,” you said excitedly.

“What?”

⋆˚࿔ it’s time to go 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

⋆˚࿔ the fucking tuesday 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Arriving in monaco again at 11 am has never felt so good in your entire life. A trip that started like a dream to remember, turned into a nightmare you couldn’t forget but all you wanted to was to forget about it. Just pretend it never existed and erase everything you did wrong that Saturday night.

You missed your house (your safe place),and you needed its comfort more than you would like to admit. Your brain was a mess. You couldn’t stop thinking about charles driving you to your friend’s house then the memory just fading away and inturning into him saying non stop i met someone. You felt you were going insane when you remembered Franco's skin on yours and how good and warm it felt. How you kissed his abs. And then how you got so scared. His face was printed in ink in your subconscious. You could only see sadness, shame, and a bit of hatred. You were sure at that moment he hated you. Like you humiliate him a bit. You felt so bad about it you couldn’t even face him. You really wanted to say sorry but you just didn’t want to see him straight in the eyes. Shame was tattooed all over your body. How could you?

Then your mind was reminded of Lando's existence and you just wanted to punch yourself in the face. What the hell happened with you at that party? Was the fernet that Franco prepared? You wanted to blame anything except yourself. You didn’t understand yourself either. Like your feelings and thoughts couldn’t agree on anything. Like you had split personality issues.

Yes, you liked lando way too much probably in those few minutes at the gallery. But then there was Franco that you now were confused about how you felt about him. Because you really liked to kiss him. To touch him. To feel him close to you in that way.

And then there was still charles.

You were really tired of thinking already you just had to put taylor swift on your headphones.you took the bus that left you one block away from your house. You don't want to call anyone to pick you up. You texted A and she told you that. You didn’t understand why she did it. But it overwhelmed you for sure. You just wanted to retreat from life like forever.

When you finally got home you went straight into bed. When you touched your pillow you started crying. And that’s how you fell asleep scared to have another nightmare.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Charles watched Carlos leaving his phone on the counter with a weird face ��everything alright mate?” he asked. Carlos nodded and smiled.

“Yeah, did you send the invitation to everyone you know?” he asked, grabbing the box with vodka bottles and taking them to the fridge.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a crazy wild night” Charles said excitedly trying to not let his anxiety control his mood right now. He wanted to have fun and purposely forget about everything with alcohol. A lot of it. As much as possible.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The music was so loud that Charles could barely listen to what the blonde girl in front of him was talking about but he didn’t care that much. He was already bored by the third girl Carlos introduced him to. He knows Carlos just has good intentions but he was already convinced no one will captivate him the way you did. Not even if they tried to imitate you. Since he saw you again he couldn’t forget your scent. The way you smiled to your nephews. How you treated them and how he was confused for a moment if they were your children. He always knew you wanted to be a mother and for what he saw he was sure you would be the best one out there. He wanted to forget about you he really did. But he was also sure life hated him. He wanted to rebuild his life and leave behind the damage he caused, but then there was you again in that fucking restaurant. And in that moment he knew all too well it would drive him insane. And he felt like it. He believed it.

The girl notices he wasn’t paying attention to her. Charles was playing with his glass of whiskey. Her face looked annoyed and disappointed. Charles didn’t care. She told him she needed to go to the bathroom and disappeared for the rest of the night. He drank his whole glass in one take. He just wanted to drown in alcohol right there and vaish from life. From everyone who knew him.

He saw Carlos dancing la macarena with his group of spanish friends that came for the holidays. He was enjoying himself around. Rebecca, his girlfriend, was there as well, matching hia freak. And for a moment he felt something he never felt before and he didn't like it at all. He felt envious. He wanted to have his life. Be him. Have the girl of his dreams dancing around with him. His friends were here but not with him. And he didn’t even like to dance. And don't have anyone to have sex with. Then he felt miserable. Angry with life itself.he was disappointed. He felt he let down everyone in his life. And the proof was that damn book she wrote. He was a coward. And everyone knew about it; they just didn't know it was him all along. And when the truth comes out then his life will be ended.

He swallowed hard and stood up to grab more whiskey. This time he was drinking from the bottle. He pushed himself aside from the party and sat near the pool even if he was freezing. He didn’t care anymore if he got sick or died. He was extreme. He looked at your balcony and wanted to cry. He wanted to cry like a child. Throw punches and scream. He felt there was no way to fix his life. He regretted breaking you so much. He always knew this was everything to you. You were so caring and always there for him and his whole family. He also knew he broke his mum. She loves you deeply. You were like her daughter, the one she never had. The one he and dad would have loved to have if they could choose the sex of their children. Remembering his dad broke him. He started crying. If he was here he knew he would be disappointed in him. Not because of his career (he made history) but because he isn’t with a good woman. He doesn't have kids either. And he now believed he didn't even have a future.

He looked again at your balcony. The lights were off. He didn’t know if you were there or not. If you had a lover. Or even if you have him blocked on social media. And that’s when curiosity won over him. What if he tried to search for your name on instagram? He was sure someone he knew, knew you as well. Monaco is too little to not have those coincidences on the daily.

He searched the first letters of your name and then saw that his ex, alexandra followed you. He felt weird about it and his face showed confusion with his eyebrows. He clicked on your profile and started stalking you. You still paint and have a piano. You used to play piano together. Actually, you taught him. You were the best professor he had ever had. He smiled looking at pictures of random dogs you found on the streets and with your nephews. You built a new family away from your actual family. That made him happy for a second. He knew after both of your parents died, you didn’t get along so well with your siblings. But he didn’t know if it was still like that. He saw how successful you were. How your book was a bestseller and how it would be a movie produced by universal. He was surprised. He would have never expected this outcome. Back in the day you were an art teacher for children and had a studio where you gave those lessons. Children loved you so much. He remembered their bright smiles when the parents came around to pick them up. He admired you so much for it. He even fantasizes that one day that face so bright and happy will be the one your children will have everytime they look at their mother. He wanted to be a father with you. But then alex came around and fucked it all up. Or well he actually did. And he still couldn’t understand why he did it.

Alex Was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that. She also loved him dearly. She was in love with him. And he thought he was with her. But then everything spiraled down and collapsed. He met her at that partymax verstappen threw to celebrate he was an official f1 driver for red bull. He invited everyone he ever met along his life. You couldn’t go because you had to take an exam the following morning. And that’s when it happened. She was dancing with her group of friends. She also had a boyfriend. And we talked and sparks were there. And then Charles got all confused. And they kissed. And he had already cheated by the time he realized that it was wrong. And then he couldn't stop. And his life went to shit.

He didn’t realize he was sobbing until he felt his teardrops stain his creme pants. He was using a fancy outfit. He looked really good. But as everything he touched, he also ruined that too in that moment. And because he was so busy feeling miserable, he didn’t realize the police were already at carlos’ door wanting to shut down the party. I mean, it was a tuesday night of a working week after all.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

When Charles got closer to Carlos, he was already shouting at the police officers like a crazy man. He was drunk for sure and the policeman knew about it too. No perfume will ever smell like that. Not in Monaco of course.

“Then tell me, who will call? I need to know who to call. I never do parties and then once I do I can't and it’s not fair. I need to know who called you, it's my right as a citizen "Carlos was verbose and angry.

“Carlos it’s okay, how much should we pay you to let us have a party?” Charles intervenes trying to look not drunk at all but failing in each word. Police men looked at each other, annoyed by these two men.

“That would be a crime, sir” the police officer with a beard that looked disgusting in charles’ opinion, answered him. He kind of felt offended.

“Then who it was!!” Carlos was losing it and Charles was scared they would take him to jail right there.

“Your neighbor” the other one talked now pointing his fingers to his right. His right.

Your house was at his right. You called the cops. At that moment he felt he was about to faint. He was sure he was white. The policemen looked at him weird. Carlos then started walking. If you were in a cartoon show he would have smoke coming out his head right now. He walked fast towards your hose. Charles panicked and followed him desperate. Carlos started banging your door so he could tell you things.

“Carlos, nono. Let’s just go home, c’mon "Charles tried to convince Carlos but he was determined and ignored him. He won’t let you ruin his party. His celebration. His opportunity to present a woman for his friend to be happy. The one he taught you ruined. Becausehe couldn’t be over you. And he saw all of this as if you were now not letting him be able to in a very twisted way.

Charles was scared and worried when he saw your light turning on by the minute. His eyes wanting to leave his face when he saw you in your marvel pajamas again. Your hair was a mess and your face had the darkest circles under your eyes. Your face puffy as if you were crying or you did before you went to sleep and then they woke you up. No he felt as guilty as when he realized he left the love of his life stuck in that fucking restaurant you both loved so much.

“What the fuck is wrong with you bitch? Huh? Stop torturing my friend!” carlos said aggressively the moment he saw you when you opened the door.

⋆˚࿔ TO BE CONTINUED 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

chapter six: coming soon.

tag list: @a-beaverhausen , @annaluna12 , @thehoplessromanticclub , @emryb , @hadids-world , @kaztheemyth , @freyathehuntress , @diorbrxtz , @theseerbetweenus , @sie17136 , @leila-030304 , @charlesgirl16 , @ricciardosheart , @weekendlusting

author’s note: hope you all have a merry christmas ❤️ and that you like this chapter as much as I do !

thank you everyone for reading and sharing what I write. I really really appreciate it!

if you wanna be part of the tag list just leave a comment!

see you on the next chapter :)

Don’t forget to like, reblog or comment! And follow me so we can be friends! (And drink mate together) <3

[hyper-fixated-delusions]

You’re insecure (don’t know what for.)

Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader.

*Credit to the owner of the gif.*

A/N: Here’s a little Christmas gift for you all!! 🎄🎁 I hope you enjoy and I apologize for any mistakes! Also comments, reblogs, shares and likes are super appreciated, thank you! :) (p.s I didn’t really proofread this as much because I was getting self conscious and yeah. Happy reading!)

Word count: 1,698.

Masterlist

It was a Friday night and you were lounging in your apartment feeling like the absolute scum of the earth over bouts of insecurity arising in you over some comments made about you throughout the past few weeks.

Comments about how Wanda was too good for you.

How she was way out of your league and how people were clueless as to why she was with you. How a stunning woman like her, could be with someone as simple looking as you.

Thoughts that you yourself have had with your girlfriend basically being a walking goddess and all, how could you not let your mind stray to think those things when you've seen firsthand more attractive people vying for her attention.

So there you were feeling like utter shit while playing video games, when a call from an unknown number came into your phone.

"Hello?" You answer cautiously.

"Y/N?" You hear exclaimed through the phone, having a hard time hearing due to the music blasting from the other side of the call.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me, who is this?" You ask not immediately recognizing the voice.

"Hey, it's me, Nat," the voice supplies, "my phone died so I'm using someone else's. Anyway, so you know how we went out to the bar to grab a few drinks? Well, as we were making our way back to your place, your girlfriend found a club and made her way inside. She's on the dance floor crying, she won't let me take her home, she wants you," Natasha yells through the speaker causing you to immediately stand up and begin looking for your keys.

"Is she okay?" You ask worriedly, your movements halting momentarily.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine, just super drunk," Natasha says, her voice muffled by the sounds around her. "Hey, no Wanda, get off of there, you can't do that!" You suddenly hear Natasha say and you hurry your movements once again, "listen, we're at the Avengers Night Club in uptown, it’s not too far from your place so there's no rush, but the faster you're here, the better. So please, don't take too long," the redhead pleads and you nod, realizing after a moment she can't see you.

"Uh, yeah, don't worry. I'll be there as soon as I can, thank you Nat," you say appreciatively.

"No worries, see you soon," she replies breathless, "Wanda, oh my god, no you can't eat that, that's a candle-" you hear suddenly and the call disconnects.

When you locate your keys you hastily make your way out of your apartment and into your car. The 10 minute drive to the club feeling eternal.

When you finally reach your destination you park your car and make your way inside the club, immediately finding Natasha.

"Nat!" You exclaim over the music.

"Hey!" The redhead turns to greet you pulling you into a hug.

"Where is she?" You ask Wanda's best friend when you pull back.

The shorter woman frowns, "wait, what the fuck, she was just here a minute ago!" She yells over the music, eyes scanning the club and immediately landing on your girlfriend that is taking shots with a group of people across the bar from where you stand, "there she is!" Natasha says, finger pointing in Wanda's direction.

Once you spot her you nod and with Natasha make your way towards your girlfriend, trying your best not to bump into people in the process. As soon as you reach Wanda, you immediately realize she is much drunker than you have ever seen her be in the two years that you've been together.

"Hey Wanda, Y/N is here, let's get you home," Natasha says as she gathers your girlfriend into her arms.

"That's not gonna work Natty, I know she's not here, you've been saying that all night you little liar," Wanda singsongs, bopping Natasha's nose, causing the redhead to roll her eyes in annoyed amusement.

"I'm serious Wands, she's right there," Natasha says as she turns the redhead to face you.

"Oh, my god! Baby!" Wanda exclaims excitedly, hands thrown up in the air, a drunken smile on her lips.

"Hey Max," you greet with an amused chuckle.

"New friends, hey, hey," Wanda says, waving at the other patrons she was drinking with, "this is my amazingly beautiful girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N," she beams, pulling you in by your waist to introduce you to the group of strangers.

"Hey!" The group exclaimed loudly.

"Hey," you say softly, waving shyly at the sudden attention.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing," you hear Wanda say, turning to face her and you see green eyes glossed over with adoration and love, "my beautiful baby, my stunning lover, I love you so much," she yells, voice full of affection.

"How much have you had to drink, amor?" You ask, blushing red.

"I'm not drunk," Wanda slurs, and you raise a challenging eyebrow, "okay, I am drunk. Drunk in love," she says with a dopey smile.

You shake your head, "okay, you're definitely wasted," you say with a laugh.

"No. No, I'm not baby. You really are my beautiful lover. So so beautiful," she pouts, hands cradling your face as tears gloss over in her green eyes. "I really wish you could see yourself the way I see you my love, because you're so stunning. You think I'm the most beautiful person you've ever seen, but that's bullshit! You are the most beautiful person ever! You're so amazing Y/N, you make me so happy and you're so nice, all my friends love you, you treat me like a queen. You're perfect," Wanda says, tears rolling down her face, "I just- I love you so much," she says as she begins sobbing into her hands.

"Okay amor mio, let's get you going," you say, gathering Wanda into your arms as you begin to make your way out of the nightclub. "Hey Nat you good, do you need a ride or something?" You ask the redhead once you make it outside.

"No, I'm good, I think I might stay a little longer, I definitely just saw someone check me out and I want to see where that goes," she smirks and you chuckle, "you just get home safe and call me if you need me alright?" Natasha says as she pulls you and your girlfriend into a hug.

"Yeah sure, thank you," you say appreciatively, "and if you need anything please don't hesitate to call," the redhead nods her head and makes her way back into the club as you walk to your car. After placing Wanda in the passenger side, you buckle her in and make the drive back to your apartment.

Getting Wanda into your home seems to be a much more difficult task than you anticipated, the redhead more asleep than awake to properly walk, the alcohol in her system causing her to slightly sway back and forth as you take her up to the apartment.

Once you make it inside you take Wanda to your room, laying her down softly on the bed as you begin her nightly routine.

First you take off her shoes, placing them in your closet. Then you grab one of your t-shirts for her to sleep in. Taking off her dress being nearly impossible as Wanda softly snores.

Once you complete your mission and dress your girlfriend you make your way to your bathroom to grab some makeup removing wipes. As you sit beside your girlfriend you begin gently cleaning off the make-up Wanda wore, your soft swipes across her face causing the redhead to stir awake.

"Hmm, baby, what are you doing?" Wanda asks, voice thick, full of sleep.

"Just taking your makeup off amor, go back to sleep," you whisper, continuing with your task.

"It's okay, leave it on, just lay with me," your girlfriend pouts, tugging on your arm to pull you into bed beside her and you chuckle softly.

"I will in a bit Max, let me just take this off so you can sleep comfortably," you smile as Wanda's eyes slowly open, unshed tears building in her beautiful green eyes. "Hey. Hey, what's wrong?" You ask slowly, a look of confusion on your face at your girlfriend's sudden change in mood.

"You're so good to me baby. So good," Wanda whispers, tears pouring down her face.

Cupping her face gently you wipe her tears away, "hey, none of that Wands, you're my girl. I love taking care of you and you do the same for me, so it's all good," you say smiling softly.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you, but you're everything to me,” Wanda sobs, voice full of emotion, "and don't think I haven't noticed how in your head you have gotten as of late. I know you, and I know what people have been saying has been affecting you. But just know that I put them in their place and that I love you and only you detka, I don't care what they have to say, you are my person and they can all fuck off if they think you’re no good for me, because they don’t know you the way I do,” she monologues. “They don’t know how truly happy you make me. They don’t know how well you take care of me. They don’t know that just by being with you it makes me want to be a better person. They don’t know anything, my love,” she says and you let out a sob.

“God, I love you so much Max, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that,” you say, crying.

“You’re it for me detka, before you I wasn’t truly living, it’s like everything was preparing me for this moment, now come on, get in bed, let’s go to sleep,” Wanda says as she takes your hands, pulling you into the space beside her.

As you crawl in behind her, you wrap your arms around her frame, “I love you Wanda,” you whisper, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, my love,” she replies before you both drift off to sleep.

[your-unfriendlyghost]

Stares at you and very politely requests for some transfem soda headcanons

Oh hell yeah I’d love to

(tw for mentions of period-typical transphobia)

Transfem Soda h/cs

-She keeps the name Sodapop.

-She worries sometimes that Mom and Dad would be disappointed in her, to which Pony or Darry will remind her that “Mom and Dad always said they wanted a girl, they’d be proud.”

-She loves to dress all feminine and whatever, but on a day to day basis she dresses more or less like she always has.

-Tulsa is big enough that outside of their neighborhood/school, most people don’t know her as she was before. So on dates, Steve likes to take her to the other side of town, away from all the people who know her as “Soda the boy”. She loves it, it’s so freeing to have folks see her as herself. 

-Speaking of Steve- he’d just finally accepted that he was gay when Soda started experimenting w/ gender stuff. (Turns out he wasn’t gay, he was bi and so in love with Soda that he couldn’t like anyone else, girl or guy.) But it definitely sends him spiraling into another crisis for a bit- he’s supposed to be gay, why’s the thought of Soda as a chick so hot?!

-Steve’s real supportive tho. Back when Soda was just calling it “crossdressing” he’d buy her things to experiment with- yk, like dresses, heels, makeup, etc. Part of that was selfish since Steve was sorta (very) into it, but it mainly stemmed from an earnest hope that Soda would feel more like herself

-That “crossdressing” phase lasted a few months, so when she eventually did come out to him as a girl, he wasn’t completely surprised. He’s who she came out to first, and it means a lot to him that she trusts him so much.

-Coming out to Darry and Pony tho is…harder. She knows they’ll always love her, but she feels like they’ll see her differently. 

-She tells Darry on accident. She’d just come home from work, feeling shitty because someone called her “such a nice young man”. She was tearing up about it, which made her feel worse, and then Darry showed up, home from work early. He got her to explain what happened, and the interaction went like this:

“Wait…so you don’t want folks to call you nice??”

“...I don’t want them to call me a man…”

Darry hugged her and said “Soda…you got somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

And it was all over from there. She just spilled.

-When Ponyboy gets home, he’s surprised, a little weirded out, but mostly glad Soda’s happy. Neither him or Darry really get it at first, but they know she’s happy so they’re happy. Over time though, they understand more and more, till they understand her as well as she understands herself.

-Coming out to the gang is straightforward enough. Two-Bit started to make an iffy comment as a joke, but Steve threatened him till he shut up. Two-Bit’s supportive though- the way he sees it, the world always needs more hot chicks. Johnny goes to her for advice about girls, which he knows makes her feel validated. And Dally pretty much immediately starts flirting with her, partially out of his instinctual need to harass women and partially because it riles Steve up and Dally likes riling Steve up. Two-Bit flirts with her too- she’s hot, blond, and it pisses Steve off, so yeah, win-win.

-Darry worries about her sometimes. He does the protective older brother bit only half-jokingly, and it sort of annoys Soda because Darry was never this worried about her before she came out. She also sort of likes it, because yk, it feels affirming. So she’s got mixed feelings about that.

-Darry threatens to kill Steve if he hurts her. And sure, Darry did that back when stevepop first got together too, but now it feels even more pointed. Steve is a little scared of Darry in a way that he wasn’t before.

-Ponyboy straight up gaslights Curly Shepard, Mark Jennings, and half the kids at school into thinking Soda was always a girl, just a tomboy. “Jesus, you thought I had two brothers? Hell no, I’ve always had a brother and a sister. Soda just looked like a boy as a kid ‘cos she had to wear Darry’s hand-me-downs you fuckin’ idiots.”

-After seeing Ponyboy’s success at that, Two-Bit, Johnny, Dally, and Steve try to do the same with the other hoods. Tim Shepard doesn’t fall for it, but when Dally begrudgingly explains the situation, Tim supports it too. Not because he particularly likes Soda or trans people as a whole- he actually thinks she’s kind of a freak tbh- but because she’s a Curtis. Darry’s his friend, and she’s Darry’s kid sister. Besides, it’s what he’d do if Angela was trans. (this ain’t a great pov to have obviously! But yk, I’m aiming for realism.)

-Steve is saving up money to get Soda HRT. He hasn’t told her, but everytime he gets five bucks from his dad, it goes to the secret estrogen fund. He tells Darry about it, and Darry starts adding a small portion to it monthly too.

-She looks even more like her mom now. Sometimes, Pony will wake up from a nightmare and in his sleepy haze, he’ll momentarily think she is Mrs. Curtis. He’s never told Soda this before and never will. It’d make her feel guilty, and he doesn’t want that,

-It feels lousy living in Tulsa sometimes, where folks often misgender her and bring her down. So when she and Steve get older, they move to a nearby city where everyone who meets her meets her as Sodapop- Steve’s girlfriend, the Curtis sister, a young woman who’s fantastic with cars and even better with horses.

[chimcess]

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Other Tags: Football Player!Hoseok, Teacher!Reader, Firefighter!Namjoon, Older Brother!Namjoon, Architect!Taehyung, Older Brother!Taehyung, Property Developer!Jungkook Genre: Christmas AU, Strangers to Lovers AU, Crack (low-key), Romantic Comedy, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Angst, Smut Word Count: 27.1k+ Summary: It's Christmas, but the HOA is being a real Grinch. Hoseok is determined to save the holiday for his niece and nephew, but he'll need some help to pull it off. With a little teamwork from the trio living across the street, he might just be able to outsmart the HOA and make this a Christmas to remember. Warnings: HOA being the devil (wow, what a surprise...), Jealous!Taehyung, Namjoon is so over his shit, Reader too, Tae and Joon are both overprotective, Hoseok is a really great uncle, Halmark Christmas movie ass storyline, strong language, sexual tension, slight public exposure (completely on accident), kissing, tongue kissing, making out, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple positions, protected sex (wrap it up), lowkey soft dom Hoseok, handjob, multiple orgasms, let me know if I missed anything... A/N: Happy holidays!

The cold had settled in early this year, and Hoseok felt it in every corner of Colorado. December wasn't even over, but winter had already made itself comfortable, like an uninvited guest who planned to overstay. This wasn't the sharp, biting cold he knew from Illinois—the kind that slapped you in the face and stole your breath. No, Colorado's chill was cunning. It lingered just out of sight, waiting to slip into your bones when you least expected it.

Heated seats in his Land Rover weren't just a fancy perk; they were a necessity. Survival gear, really. His friends teased him about his top three reasons for loving his car. Number one was always the sound system—naturally. But if Namjoon was asking, he'd wax poetic about the impeccable safety ratings.

He hadn't meant to drive four hours from Denver to Salida on a whim. But when his sister Ji-woo called yesterday, her voice frayed at the edges, everything else took a backseat. She'd offered him a home-cooked meal, which was suspicious in itself. Ji-woo didn't cook unless there was a crisis. An invitation for a "warm, homemade dinner" was basically code red.

Without a second thought, he'd tossed an overnight bag into the backseat and hit the road. As he navigated through her labyrinth of a neighborhood—every house a carbon copy of the last—he understood why she always complained about getting lost. It was like driving through a real-life game of Spot the Difference, except there were no differences.

But it wasn't the monotony that made him pause when he pulled up to her house. It was the darkness. No Christmas lights twinkling in the frost, no inflatable reindeer wobbling on the lawn. Nothing. Ji-woo, who usually turned her home into a festive explosion the day after Thanksgiving, had left it bare. Hoseok pulled his jacket tighter as he stepped out, boots crunching on the icy driveway. He knocked on the door, the sound echoing down the eerily quiet street. His breath formed little clouds as he waited, a gnawing worry settling in his stomach.

Across the street, Taehyung squinted through his living room window, eyes fixed on Hoseok. "Someone's at Ji-woo's place," he mumbled, not budging an inch.

In the kitchen, Y/N shook her head with a smile. "She's allowed to have visitors, you know," she called out, balancing a tray of hot cocoa and freshly baked cookies.

"He looks... suspicious," Taehyung grumbled, still glued to the glass.

"Or maybe he's just cold," Y/N teased, setting the tray down on the coffee table. "Come on, leave the poor guy alone. We've got Elf queued up and everything."

Taehyung finally tore himself away from the window, his gaze drifting to the marshmallows melting into the cocoa. "Did you make the cookies with peanut butter chips?" he asked, feigning nonchalance.

"Like I'd forget," Y/N replied, a grin tugging at her lips. "No Kim family recipe skips the peanut butter chips."

He took a bite, his features softening as the familiar taste hit. "Dad would've approved," he said quietly.

"Yeah," she agreed, the moment hanging between them like a delicate ornament.

Back outside, Hoseok knocked again, shivering as a gust of wind snuck past his collar. He was about to fish out his phone when the door creaked open. Ji-woo stood there, her hair piled messily atop her head, eyes shadowed with exhaustion. But when she saw him, a flicker of relief crossed her face.

"You're here," she breathed, pulling him into a tight hug.

"Of course I'm here," he murmured into her hair. "You promised me a dubious home-cooked meal, remember?"

She laughed softly, the sound muffled against his coat. "Come in before you freeze."

Inside, the house felt... empty. Not physically—the furniture was all there—but the usual warmth was missing. No garlands draped over the fireplace, no stockings hung with care. Even the Christmas tree in the corner looked half-hearted, as if it knew it wasn't living up to expectations.

Ji-woo sank onto the couch with a weary sigh. "I think I made a mistake moving here."

Hoseok settled into the armchair across from her. "What's going on? Did the Grinch steal your decorations?"

"Worse," she groaned. "The HOA did."

He raised an eyebrow. "They're anti-Christmas now?"

"More like anti-fun. They have all these rules—no colored lights, no inflatable anything, no decorations that could be considered 'tacky' or 'disruptive.' Everything has to be white lights, tastefully arranged. It's like living in a Christmas museum."

"You're kidding," he said, but one look at her face told him she wasn't.

"The kids are miserable," she continued. "Arabella keeps asking why our house doesn't look 'happy' anymore. Maxwell made a protest sign that says 'We Miss Santa' and wants to picket in front of the HOA president's house."

Hoseok couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, he's got your flair for the dramatic."

"Tell me about it," she sighed. "I tried to explain, but how do you tell a seven-year-old that some people think joy is gaudy?"

He leaned forward. "Have you talked to the HOA? Maybe there's a loophole or something."

Ji-woo rolled her eyes. "Oh, I've talked to them. Rachel McDonald and her sidekick Tiffany Wallace run the place like it's their personal kingdom. They're like the Plastics from Mean Girls, but with power suits and a vendetta against colored LEDs."

"Oh, fantastic," Hoseok mumbled. "Mean girls with a homeowners' association to rule. Just what you needed."

Ji-woo laughed without much humor. "It gets better. Rachel's husband, Jeff? He spends his days flirting with the younger moms at the playground, always going on about how he could've gone pro if not for his 'career-ending car accident.' He was the high school football star, and he never lets anyone forget it."

"Let me guess," Hoseok said, already seeing the picture. "He's one of those guys who peaked in high school?"

"Exactly," Ji-woo confirmed. "And he's a total mess. He almost hit one of the Kim siblings—Y/N, the youngest—after a football game. Drives around drunk like he owns the place."

"Wow," Hoseok muttered, a knot forming in his stomach. "And nobody does anything about it?"

"Small towns," Ji-woo sighed, shrugging. "People overlook a lot, especially when it comes to the so-called golden boy. It's infuriating."

Before Hoseok could respond, a high-pitched voice sliced through the air.

"Uncle Hobi!"

A whirlwind of pink pajamas and tangled black hair hurtled across the room, colliding with his legs like a tiny freight train. Hoseok barely had time to steady himself before Maxwell wrapped his arms around him, nearly toppling them both.

"Whoa there, buddy!" Hoseok laughed, ruffling the boy's hair as he crouched down to hug him properly. Maxwell's face beamed up at him, eyes sparkling with pure joy. "How've you been?"

"Good!" Maxwell chirped, bouncing on his toes. "You're staying, right? You can stay forever now!"

Before he could answer, another figure appeared in the doorway—Arabella, her dark eyes casting a skeptical glance toward the window, as if the lackluster holiday lights were a personal affront. She was more reserved than her brother, but when she saw Hoseok, a small smile played at the corner of her mouth.

"Hey, Arabella," Hoseok said gently. "Think I can get a hug from you too?"

She walked over slowly, her steps measured, but when she hugged him, it was warm and sincere. The weight of their little arms around him filled the room with a lightness that hadn't been there moments before.

Just like that, the house felt a little less cold.

They say a watched pot never boils. Turns out, a watched coffee maker isn't in any rush either. Y/N hovered over the machine, silently pleading for it to hurry up—as if her very survival depended on that first cup. And honestly, it did. Without coffee, she was more like a friendly ghost drifting through her own kitchen.

The toaster snapped up with a clatter, launching her bagel into the air. She caught it instinctively, barely registering the motion, and spread a generous layer of garden veggie cream cheese on top. Her eyes kept drifting back to the coffee maker, as if it held all the answers. Finally, it gurgled to a finish, and she poured herself a mug with the kind of reverence usually reserved for sacred ceremonies.

The first sip was bliss—a warm embrace that chased away the lingering fog in her mind. For a moment, everything was peaceful. No second graders vying for attention, no stacks of ungraded papers looming over her. Just her and the coffee, wrapped in a quiet truce with the morning.

But peace was fleeting.

"That car's still there," Taehyung's voice broke the silence, rough and low like gravel underfoot. He shuffled into the kitchen, more bear than man, still tangled in the remnants of sleep. Before his own caffeine fix, Taehyung was best approached with caution.

Y/N took another sip, unfazed. "They pulled in late last night," she replied evenly, not rising to his grumpy bait.

He grunted, grabbed a mug, tore open a packet of Pop-Tarts, and retreated back to his room, a nocturnal creature avoiding the daylight. Y/N smiled to herself, already looking forward to her morning walk—the one slice of the day that was entirely hers. She laced up her sneakers, threw on a jacket, and stepped outside into the gentle hush of their new neighborhood.

Salida was still strange to her, each house a mirror image of the next, every lawn meticulously maintained. It was pleasant enough but felt more like a pit stop than a destination. Taehyung had found them a good deal here, courtesy of his job, and it served its purpose—a temporary escape while they figured out their next move.

She set off on her usual route, the cold air refreshing against her skin. The fog hung low, turning the streets into a watercolor painting of muted grays and soft edges. She let her mind wander, savoring the solitude.

Then she noticed it—a flicker of movement in her peripheral vision. At first, she thought it was a trick of the fog, but there it was again—a figure moving with effortless grace, just enough to catch her eye. Tall and solid, with an athletic stride. One detail snagged her attention more than she'd like to admit: a very, very nice backside.

Y/N felt warmth rise in her cheeks and shook her head, half-amused at herself. Who was that? She didn't recognize him, but then again, she and Taehyung weren't exactly mingling at neighborhood block parties. Taehyung was more invested in keeping tabs on the comings and goings around them—especially since Ji-woo had moved in across the street.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she continued her walk, her heartbeat just a touch quicker than before. The cold nipped at her face, but she hardly noticed. Her thoughts were elsewhere, caught up in that brief, intriguing glimpse.

Would she see him again?

It was a silly thought, and she laughed softly to herself. Still, there was a flutter in her chest—a tiny spark that felt new and welcome. By the time she looped back to the house, her cheeks were flushed, and not just from the cold.

Inside, Taehyung was hunched over his coffee at the kitchen table, looking marginally more awake but no less grumpy.

"What took you so long?" he asked, one eyebrow arched. "And why are you grinning like that?"

She shrugged, aiming for nonchalant. "Just enjoying the morning."

He gave her a skeptical look but didn't press further, muttering something unintelligible as he turned back to his mug.

Y/N just smiled to herself, knowing full well that her morning walks had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

Hoseok pushed open the front door, a gust of cold air following him inside. His lungs burned pleasantly from his morning run, and despite the sweat cooling on his skin, he felt invigorated. December had painted the world outside in shades of white and silver, but inside, the house was warm and smelled like coffee.

"Uncle Hobi, quiet," a small voice scolded.

He looked down to see Arabella standing there, hands on her tiny hips, clad in bright pink pajamas that were a size too big. Her serious expression was almost comical on such a small face.

"Sorry, Ari," he whispered, grinning. He crouched down to her level, arms open for a hug.

She hesitated. "You're sweaty."

He laughed. "Can't argue with that." But before he could retract his offer, she stepped forward and gave him a quick squeeze, then immediately wrinkled her nose.

"Yuck. You need a shower," she declared, pulling back.

"Noted," he said, raising his hands in surrender.

She toddled off toward the living room, probably to her favorite spot by the Christmas tree—the one that looked a bit forlorn without its usual explosion of lights.

Hoseok headed into the kitchen, where Ji-woo leaned against the counter, a mug cradled in her hands. She raised an eyebrow as he entered.

"You're up early," she remarked.

"Couldn't sleep," he replied, grabbing a glass of water. "Too many thoughts buzzing around."

"Ah," she said, taking a sip. "The infamous Hoseok brainstorm."

He grinned. "I've got an idea."

She eyed him warily. "Should I be concerned?"

"Probably," he admitted. "But hear me out."

She gestured for him to continue but then scrunched up her nose. "Actually, maybe tell me after you've showered."

He feigned offense. "You and Arabella both. Is my post-run glow that unbearable?"

"It's less 'glow' and more 'glisten,'" she teased. "And yes."

He chuckled, backing out of the kitchen. "Fine, I'll cleanse myself of this so-called glisten."

"Thank you," she called after him.

As he climbed the stairs, his mind returned to his plan. The HOA's ban on colorful Christmas lights was the last straw. Arabella's disappointment each time she looked outside was palpable, and it tugged at him more than he'd like to admit.

Maybe if he could convince Ji-woo to take the kids to their parents' house for the holidays, they'd get the festive experience they deserved. And while they were gone, perhaps he could find a way to negotiate with—or outsmart—the HOA.

After a hot shower, he felt more human. The steam had cleared his head, and he dressed quickly, eager to share his thoughts. Back in the kitchen, Ji-woo was scrolling through her phone, a frown creasing her forehead.

"More HOA drama?" he asked, rubbing a towel over his damp hair.

She sighed, setting the phone aside. "They're sending reminders about the 'holiday decor guidelines.' It's like they have a vendetta against joy."

He poured himself a cup of coffee. "That's why I wanted to talk to you."

She looked up, curious. "Oh?"

He took a sip before speaking. "What if you took the kids to Mom and Dad's for Christmas? Let them have the full festive experience without the Grinch HOA ruining it."

She considered this. "I don't know... They were excited to spend Christmas here."

He nodded. "I get that. But here feels... stifled. They can't decorate the way they want. At least at Mom and Dad's, they can go all out."

She traced the rim of her mug with a finger. "I suppose Arabella would love baking with Mom."

"And Maxwell can help Dad set up the train set," Hoseok added.

A small smile played on her lips. "They would enjoy that."

"Plus," he continued, "I can stay here and see if there's any way to reason with the HOA. Maybe find a loophole or two."

She raised an eyebrow. "You and your loopholes."

He shrugged, grinning. "It's a gift."

She laughed softly. "Alright. I'll talk to the kids."

Relief washed over him. "Great. I think it'll be good for all of you."

As she stood to rinse her mug, she glanced at him. "What about you? Spending Christmas alone?"

He waved off her concern. "I'll be fine. Someone's got to hold down the fort."

She gave him a knowing look. "If you say so."

He leaned against the counter, thoughts drifting to the woman he'd seen on his run that morning. There was something about the way she'd moved, the determination in her stride. He found himself hoping their paths might cross again.

Y/N stepped into the house, shaking off the chill from outside. Taehyung's car was parked at an awkward angle in the driveway—a telltale sign of his mood. Inside, she found Namjoon sitting on the edge of the couch, his posture tense but composed. Taehyung paced the length of the living room, agitation rolling off him in waves.

"Hey," she greeted cautiously.

Namjoon looked over, relief flickering in his eyes. "Maybe you can talk some sense into him."

She set her bag down. "What's going on?"

Taehyung stopped mid-pace. "There's a stranger at Ji-woo's house."

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes. "You mean her brother?"

He crossed his arms. "We don't know that."

Namjoon sighed. "Tae, we've been over this. Not every new person is a threat."

"But we have to be vigilant," Taehyung insisted. "Especially after everything."

Y/N felt a pang in her chest. "I get it," she said gently. "But maybe we should give people the benefit of the doubt."

He shook his head. "You didn't see the way he was sneaking around."

Namjoon stood up. "How about this—I’ll go over and introduce myself. Invite them to the community Christmas party. If there's anything off, I'll pick up on it."

Taehyung considered this. "Fine. But be careful."

"I always am," Namjoon assured him. He grabbed his coat and headed toward the door. "Y/N, keep an eye on him."

She nodded. "Will do."

After Namjoon left, the room fell into a heavy silence. Taehyung resumed his pacing, though slower this time.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

He shrugged. "Just don't want anything to happen. Not again."

She understood. The past had left its marks on all of them. "I know."

He glanced at her. "You think I'm overreacting."

"I think you're protective," she said. "But sometimes that can come across as... intense."

He managed a small smile. "Understatement of the year."

She returned the smile. "Just try to relax a bit. Maybe focus on something else."

He sat down beside her. "Like what?"

She hesitated, then decided to take a chance. "I've been thinking about volunteering at the youth center's holiday event. Could use an extra pair of hands."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to distract me?"

"Maybe," she admitted. "Is it working?"

He chuckled. "A little."

They sat in comfortable quiet for a moment. Y/N's thoughts drifted to the man she'd seen that morning—the one with the easy smile and kind eyes. She wondered what his story was.

"Earth to Y/N," Taehyung said, waving a hand in front of her face.

She blinked. "Sorry. Zoned out."

"Thinking about your students?"

"Something like that," she replied, not ready to share her musings.

He studied her for a moment. "You seem... different lately."

"Different how?"

He shrugged. "Happier."

She considered this. "Maybe."

"That's good," he said sincerely.

"Thanks." She bumped his shoulder lightly. "See? Not everything is doom and gloom."

He smiled. "I'll try to remember that."

The late afternoon sun streamed through the window, casting everything in a soft, golden hue. Y/N felt a tiny flicker of hope ignite inside her chest. Maybe—just maybe—this Christmas would bring something new, something good.

She glanced over at Taehyung, who was slouched on the couch, half-watching a mindless reality show. He was still brooding, eyebrows knit together in that way that made him look both serious and a little ridiculous.

"So," she said, leaning back and stretching her arms over her head, "do you think Namjoon's going to make it back alive, or should we start assembling a search party?"

Taehyung grunted, eyes never leaving the screen. "Laugh all you want, but when Namjoon returns with the truth, you'll see. Mark my words, Y/N. I'm onto something big."

She hid a smile behind her hand. "Oh, I have no doubt you're onto something."

Life with her brothers was never dull—a constant whirlwind of conspiracies and overreactions. But she wouldn't trade it for anything.

Ji-woo stared at Hoseok like he'd suggested they celebrate Christmas on the moon.

"Absolutely not," she declared, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "I'm not letting those Stepford wives think they've won."

Hoseok could practically see the steam rising from her. That familiar storm brewing in her eyes—a mix of stubbornness and simmering rage. The HOA drama had pushed her right to the edge, and suggesting they spend the holidays at their parents' place was apparently the final straw.

"Ji, it's just a suggestion," he said gently. "The kids might enjoy—"

"The kids don't want to leave their home for Christmas," she interrupted, her voice firm. "And I am not giving Tiffany Wallace and Rachel McDonald the satisfaction."

He sighed, bracing himself as she launched into a tirade. She recounted every passive-aggressive comment, every forced smile, every time they'd conveniently "forgotten" to inform her about some new HOA rule.

"And can you believe Tiffany had the nerve to ask if I was a lesbian?" Ji-woo fumed, her cheeks flushing. "As if it's any of her business! Probably just so she'd have something juicy to share at her next book club meeting."

Hoseok nodded along, his mind starting to wander. It wasn't that he didn't care—he did—but he'd heard variations of this rant many times before.

"And Rachel," Ji-woo continued, her eyes narrowing. "She looks down her nose at everyone, like she's the queen of this suburban prison."

He was just about to suggest they take a deep breath when a knock sounded at the door. Saved by the bell.

Ji-woo paused, exchanging a curious glance with Hoseok before heading to the door. He followed her, curious.

When she opened it, Namjoon Kim stood on the porch, his usual calm smile in place. He looked every bit the part of the friendly neighborhood fire chief, his uniform crisp and his posture relaxed.

"Captain Kim," Ji-woo greeted, her tone shifting to something warmer. "What brings you by?"

"Evening, Ms. Lee," he replied politely. Hoseok noticed the slight wince his sister gave at the use of her married name, but she recovered quickly.

"I was just over at the Kims'—the other Kims," Namjoon added with a chuckle. "Wanted to make sure you knew about the town Christmas party tonight. It's a big deal around here. Santa, caroling, more cookies than anyone should probably eat."

He handed her a colorful flyer, and Ji-woo's face softened as she took it. "That sounds wonderful. The kids would love it."

Hoseok stepped forward, offering a friendly smile. "Mind if I tag along?"

Namjoon turned to him, eyes widening slightly. "Wait a minute—you’re Hoseok Jung."

Hoseok gave a modest shrug. "Guilty as charged."

Namjoon broke into a grin. "My siblings are huge fans. Heck, I’m a huge fan."

Before Hoseok could respond, a small whirlwind barreled into his legs.

"Uncle Hobi!" Arabella squealed, her Elsa pajamas a blur of blue and sparkles as she hugged him tightly.

He scooped her up, her giggles filling the entryway. "Hey there, princess. Shouldn't you be napping?"

She shook her head vigorously. "Can't sleep. No lights."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. "No lights?"

Ji-woo sighed. "HOA restrictions. We're not allowed to put up colored lights or inflatables."

"Seriously?" Namjoon's friendly demeanor shifted, a frown creasing his forehead. "That's... unusual."

"That's Tiffany and Rachel," Ji-woo muttered. "They've made it their mission to suck the joy out of the neighborhood."

Hoseok nodded. "Ari loves the colored lights. White ones just aren't the same."

Namjoon looked thoughtful. "Well, that doesn't seem fair. Maybe there's something we can do about that."

Hoseok watched him with interest. There was a quiet determination in Namjoon's eyes, the kind that suggested he wasn't one to let things slide.

"Anyway," Namjoon said, his smile returning as he looked back at Ji-woo. "Hope to see you all at the party tonight. And Hoseok, if you don't mind signing an autograph or two..."

Hoseok laughed. "Not at all. Happy to."

As Namjoon headed back across the street, Hoseok turned to his sister, still holding Arabella in his arms.

"Looks like this town has a few surprises," he remarked.

Ji-woo chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh, Namjoon? He's just the beginning. Stick around—you'll see."

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

She patted his shoulder as she headed back toward the kitchen. "Trust me. You might even start liking it here."

He watched her go, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Maybe this detour wasn't such a bad idea after all.

Namjoon slammed the front door open, the sound echoing through the quiet house like a sudden clap of thunder. Y/N looked up from her book, startled. It wasn't like Namjoon to make a scene—he was the steady one, the calm one. But today, his face was clouded, eyes sharp and determined.

"Taehyung!" he called, his voice carrying up the stairs with an urgency that made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

There was a muffled crash from upstairs, followed by a groan. Moments later, Taehyung appeared at the top of the staircase, hair tousled and eyes bleary. He rubbed at his face, clearly pulled from a deep sleep.

"What's going on, Joon?" he mumbled, starting down the steps. He didn't seem to notice the tension radiating from his older brother.

Namjoon didn't waste a second. "Do you have any idea what kind of company you work for?" he demanded, pointing out the front window toward Mrs. Lee's house across the street. His voice was tight, controlled—but Y/N could hear the anger simmering beneath the surface.

Taehyung blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Mrs. Lee just told me that Tiffany and Rachel are preventing her from putting up the Christmas decorations her kids love," Namjoon said, each word clipped. "Apparently, the HOA has banned colorful lights and inflatable decorations. Little Ari is heartbroken."

Taehyung frowned, glancing between Namjoon and Y/N. "I don't handle HOA rules," he said slowly. "I'm an architect, not a policy maker."

"But you work for the development company that runs this neighborhood," Namjoon pressed. "Surely you know someone who can do something about this."

Taehyung sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I mean, I can call Jungkook. He's more involved with that side of things."

"Good," Namjoon said firmly. "Because it's ridiculous that kids can't have Christmas lights because of some overzealous HOA board."

Y/N stood up, hoping to ease the tension. "Maybe it's just a misunderstanding," she offered gently. "HOAs can be tricky with their rules."

Namjoon shook his head. "Whether it's a misunderstanding or not, it needs to be fixed."

Taehyung pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. "I'll give Jungkook a call," he said, already heading toward the kitchen.

As he disappeared from view, Namjoon let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging. Y/N stepped closer.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

He nodded, but his eyes were still stormy. "I just can't stand the thought of those kids missing out on Christmas because of some pointless rule."

She offered a small smile. "You're a good man, Namjoon."

He gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Don't spread that around."

They stood in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall.

"By the way," Namjoon said, his tone shifting to something lighter, almost teasing. "I don't think Taehyung realizes who Mrs. Lee's guest is."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Namjoon's eyes sparkled with mischief. "The guy you saw over there this morning? That's Hoseok Jung."

Her mouth fell open. "Wait—the Hoseok Jung? As in the two-time Super Bowl champion?"

He nodded. "The very same."

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, memories of her morning walk flooding back—the tall figure jogging past her, the way he'd moved with effortless grace. She'd noticed him, sure, but she hadn't realized...

"Language, Y/N," Namjoon teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the grin spreading across her face. "I can't believe it. How did I not recognize him?"

"Probably because you were too busy daydreaming," he joked.

"Hardly," she shot back, nudging him playfully. "Besides, he was wearing a hat and sunglasses."

"Excuses, excuses."

Just then, Taehyung re-entered the room, looking exasperated. "Jungkook's in the shower, but his wife said he'll call me back soon."

"Great," Namjoon replied. "We need to get this sorted out."

Taehyung flopped onto the couch, rubbing his temples. "This HOA stuff is such a headache."

Y/N sat beside him. "We haven't really been paying attention to their rules, have we?"

He shrugged. "We put up a tree inside. That's about the extent of our holiday spirit."

Namjoon crossed his arms. "Well, maybe it's time we all got a bit more involved. Can't let a few grinches ruin Christmas for everyone."

Taehyung glanced at Y/N. "What's got him so fired up?"

She smiled softly. "Mrs. Lee's kids can't put up their decorations. Namjoon's on a mission to fix it."

"And Hoseok Jung is staying with her," Namjoon added, watching Taehyung's reaction.

Taehyung looked blank. "Who?"

Y/N laughed. "Only one of the most famous quarterbacks in football."

He raised an eyebrow. "You know I don't follow sports."

Namjoon shook his head in mock disbelief. "Honestly, Tae. Sometimes I wonder how we're related."

Taehyung smirked. "Well, I got the looks."

Y/N groaned. "And the humility."

Their banter eased the remaining tension, a familiar rhythm that brought a sense of normalcy back into the room.

"I'll talk to Jungkook as soon as he calls," Taehyung promised. "We'll figure something out."

"Thanks," Namjoon said sincerely.

Y/N rested a hand on Namjoon's arm. "You're doing a good thing."

He met her gaze, his expression softening. "Just trying to make sure everyone has a good Christmas."

She nodded. "And we appreciate it."

The doorbell rang, surprising them all.

"Expecting someone?" Taehyung asked.

Y/N shook her head. "No."

Namjoon went to answer it, and moments later, he called back, "Hey, Y/N, it's Mrs. Lee!"

Y/N exchanged a curious glance with Taehyung before heading to the door.

Ji-woo stood on the porch, a tentative smile on her face. "Hi, sorry to drop by unannounced."

"Not at all," Y/N replied warmly. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded. "I just wanted to thank you all. Namjoon mentioned you were looking into the HOA situation."

"Of course," Y/N said. "We're happy to help."

Ji-woo hesitated. "Also, I was wondering if you'd like to join us for dinner tomorrow night. Just a small get-together. My brother's in town, and it'd be nice to get to know the neighbors."

Y/N felt that flutter in her chest again. "We'd love to."

"Great," Ji-woo said, her smile growing. "I'll see you then."

As she walked back across the street, Y/N closed the door, leaning against it for a moment.

"Well?" Taehyung prompted.

"We're invited to dinner tomorrow," she said, trying to sound casual.

"Awesome," he said, already heading back to the couch. "Free food."

Namjoon gave her a knowing look. "Sounds like an opportunity."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide her smile. "Maybe."

"Just don't forget to breathe if you meet your football hero," he teased.

"I'll manage," she retorted.

And as she glanced out the window, catching a glimpse of lights starting to twinkle across the street, she allowed herself to hope.

Hoseok glanced in the rearview mirror of his SUV, catching sight of Maxwell practically vibrating in his car seat. The little guy was a live wire, eyes wide and sparkling like he'd just discovered superheroes were real—and they all wanted to be his best friend.

"Guessing those cookies were rocket fuel," Hoseok chuckled. "Pretty sure bedtime's canceled tonight."

"You're really coming with us to see Santa?" Maxwell asked, his voice tinged with disbelief and a dash of hero worship. It was as if Hoseok had just announced they were flying to the North Pole.

"Wouldn't miss it," Hoseok replied, winking. "Gotta make sure Santa knows what's on my list, too."

"Yes!" Maxwell cheered, pumping his tiny fist in the air. Next to him, Arabella hugged her stuffed penguin a little tighter, her eyes dreamy. "Santa..." she whispered, like the name itself was magic.

Beside him, Ji-woo seemed lighter than she'd been in weeks, a soft smile playing on her lips as she adjusted Arabella's hat. The tension from the HOA drama had eased, at least for tonight.

They drove through streets awash in Christmas lights, the colors reflecting off the windows like a kaleidoscope. When they reached the town square, it was as if they'd stepped into a snow globe. Strings of lights crisscrossed above, a giant tree stood proudly in the center, and the air was filled with the scent of cinnamon and hope.

"Look at all the lights!" Maxwell exclaimed, pressing his nose against the glass. He was out of his seat the moment the car stopped, dragging Arabella toward the promise of candy canes and reindeer.

Hoseok spotted Namjoon across the way, deep in conversation with a guy who looked like he could bench-press a car. The man's gaze lingered a little too long on Ji-woo, and Hoseok felt a protective twinge.

"Glad you all made it," Namjoon called out, his smile warm enough to melt the snow. "Santa's about to arrive. You don't want to miss it."

Maxwell and Arabella needed no further encouragement—they darted off, laughter trailing behind them like footprints.

Namjoon turned to Ji-woo, his expression shifting to something more serious. "We're still waiting to hear from Jungkook about the HOA situation. Don't worry, we're on it."

The big guy next to him nodded. "We'll make sure your kids get their Christmas back," he said earnestly.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, catching the familiar glint of recognition—and maybe a hint of rivalry—in the man's eyes. He offered a polite smile, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Before any awkwardness could settle in, the jingle of bells filled the air. Santa had arrived, not in a sleigh but in a decked-out pickup truck that somehow felt perfectly fitting. The crowd buzzed with excitement, kids bouncing on their toes.

Leading the procession was an elf with a bounce in her step and... Hoseok did a double take. Was her skirt tucked into her tights? He felt his cheeks heat up as he realized he recognized that particular shade of embarrassment.

That was jogger girl.

She was mortified, her face the color of holly berries as Namjoon discreetly fixed her skirt. She shot him a grateful, exasperated look. "Thanks, Joon," she mumbled.

"You're killing me, kid," he replied, shaking his head but smiling fondly.

Their eyes met for just a second—just long enough for Hoseok to catch that flicker of recognition, and maybe a bit of horror, in Y/N’s expression. He offered a small, sympathetic smile, the kind that says, It’s fine. We all have moments like this.

Pushing past whatever had unsettled her, Y/N fixed her elf hat and raised her voice, unwavering and bright, “Who’s ready to see Santa?”

A chorus of kids shouted back, “We are!” and just like that, everything felt easier. Arabella, looking serious and determined, walked straight up to Santa and climbed onto his lap without waiting for a nod or a smile. Santa seemed surprised but took it in stride.

“Well, hello there,” he said, steadying her. “What’s your name?”

“Arabella.” She paused, as if making sure he was paying attention. “I want our lights back.”

He blinked. “Your lights?”

“Our Christmas lights,” she explained. “The colorful ones that make our house happy.”

Hoseok felt a tightening in his chest. Arabella always got right to the point. No dancing around what mattered most.

Y/N stepped forward, her voice gentle, “Maybe Santa can help,” she suggested, meeting Hoseok’s eyes for a moment before turning back to Santa.

“Maybe I can,” Santa agreed, handing Arabella a small gift. She took it solemnly, thanked him, and slid off his lap. “Don’t forget,” she reminded him quietly as she walked back.

Ji-woo knelt down to Arabella’s level. “Do you want to open it now?” she asked.

Arabella shook her head firmly. “Max,” she said, making it clear she’d wait for her brother.

“Max, get over here!” Hoseok called, spotting Maxwell still chatting away with Santa, rattling off a mile-long wish list. Max finally darted over, breathless and grinning, and tore into his own present: a Lego police helicopter set. His eyes went huge, and he practically vibrated with excitement, already planning how he’d build it the second they got home.

Arabella, satisfied that her brother was taken care of, carefully unwrapped her gift. Inside was a plush Rudolph with a glowing red nose. Her serious expression softened. She held it up for them to see, then patted the ground beside her. “Read,” she insisted.

Hoseok didn’t hesitate. He sat right down on the cold pavement and took the little storybook that came with Rudolph. His voice was low and comforting as he read aloud. Everyone around them seemed to settle, leaning in, as if drawn by the warm circle of sound he created. Y/N found herself smiling. There he was, Hoseok—star athlete, local hero—sitting cross-legged in the town square, reading Christmas stories to a little girl who trusted him completely.

Arabella climbed into his lap without a second thought. He adjusted the book, making sure she stayed cozy. This wasn’t some perfect holiday postcard scene; it was just… real. Hoseok had a soft spot for his family. Watching him like this made Y/N’s heart ache in a sweet, unexpected way.

Namjoon, standing beside her, watched too. Pride and tenderness shone through his normally reserved gaze. He might look like the kind of guy who’d keep you at arm’s length, but around family, he melted. Y/N nudged him with her elbow, smiling. “If you keep staring, you’ll turn into a puddle.”

Namjoon chuckled quietly. “Can you blame me? That’s some top-tier uncle behavior.”

Y/N laughed. “You should be taking notes.”

“I am,” he said, straight-faced, which made her laugh again.

Meanwhile, Santa—Seth, actually—wandered off, muttering something about needing an ice pack, looking as if he’d just run a marathon instead of meeting kids all day. Y/N shook her head, amused, and headed back toward Namjoon and Ji-woo.

Namjoon kept half an eye out for Taehyung, who’d disappeared earlier. Taehyung had been trying to reach Jungkook about the HOA mess and the banned Christmas lights. Just then, Taehyung returned, looking both frustrated and determined.

“B’s livid,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “She’s got a lawyer looking into the HOA’s charter.”

Ji-woo sighed, glancing over at Arabella curled up with Hoseok. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Taehyung leaned in, lowering his voice. “Apparently the ban on colored lights was voted in by the homeowners after the fact. But if it was voted in, it can be voted out too.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Five bucks says Tiff and Rachel orchestrated the whole thing. They never let anyone just live their lives without making it about their rules.”

Namjoon’s mouth twitched, annoyed. “If those two are involved, there’s no shortage of shady behavior.”

Around them, the square glowed with holiday lights, kids played with new toys, and Hoseok’s voice continued steady and clear, reading to Arabella. It all felt unexpectedly warm and meaningful. If they had to go head-to-head with a cranky HOA to keep this feeling, so be it.

Hoseok’s voice carried over to them, calm and thoughtful. “If it was voted in, it can be voted out, right?” he asked, looking at Taehyung. Arabella’s head rested trustingly against him, her Rudolph still glowing.

Taehyung sighed. “Yeah, but it requires seventy-five percent approval. And we don’t have voting rights. We never got around to joining the HOA officially, and even if we did now, we wouldn’t be able to vote until next year.”

Y/N frowned. “Why didn’t I know about these votes? I never saw a single notice.”

Taehyung shrugged. “We bought early on. The HOA was still forming. And we don’t use their services—we handle our own lawn care—so we don’t get their updates. The other houses get lawn care and newsletters. We’re sort of on the outside.”

Y/N shot him a look. “Not everyone has the time to peek through blinds and track the neighbors’ every move, Tae.”

Namjoon cut in gently, “Play nice,” his voice carrying that quiet authority that ended squabbles before they started.

Taehyung cleared his throat. “Anyway, we don’t have standing to vote right now.”

Hoseok leaned back, thinking it through, his brow furrowing. “If we’re not part of it, are we even bound by their rules?” he asked.

Taehyung hesitated. “Technically, no. But I’m in a tricky position. Jungkook’s my friend and my boss. I’m supposed to follow the spirit of the rules, set a good example.”

Y/N noticed the determined light in Hoseok’s eyes. He’d just had an idea—that look said as much. And once Hoseok had a plan, he didn’t give up easily.

He straightened up carefully, making sure not to jostle Arabella as she slept against him, and then locked eyes with Taehyung. “I get it—you want to set a good example. But just hear me out. I think I’ve got an idea.”

Taehyung stiffened, like he already knew where this was going. “Hoseok, if this is about—”

“Let him talk,” Y/N said, her voice gentle but steady. “There’s no harm in listening.”

Taehyung exchanged a quick, resigned glance with Y/N—then with Ji-woo—and finally let out a sigh. “Fine. I’ll listen. No promises, though.”

Ji-woo gave Taehyung’s arm a light squeeze, an encouraging smile softening the tension. “Thanks. Sometimes his ideas are… a lot. But you never know, this one might actually be good.”

A small group of neighbors had drifted closer, curious eyes and quiet whispers surrounding them. Hoseok stood there, holding his niece like it was the most natural thing in the world, radiating a calm confidence that felt comforting, even to Y/N. He seemed so at home right here, right now, as if he’d been part of their crowd from the very start.

Hoseok glanced over at Maxwell, who was practically sleepwalking on his feet. “Maybe we should get these two home?” he suggested to Ji-woo, tilting his head toward the sleepy kids.

Ji-woo nodded right away, ushering them forward. “Yes. Let’s move this party back home.”

As they headed down the street, Hoseok shot Y/N a quick wink. It was casual, but it lit a tiny spark in the cold air. Taehyung noticed, of course, and let out a barely contained huff.

“That wink,” he grumbled, as if it might be the first domino in a chain of questionable decisions. Y/N could see that something about Hoseok got under Taehyung’s skin in a way he wouldn’t admit. She bumped his shoulder lightly.

“Relax, Tae,” she teased. “It’s just a wink.”

But Taehyung’s brow stayed knitted. “We’ll see,” he muttered.

Back in Ji-woo’s living room, the mood was tense despite the cozy lamps and the warm hum of the fireplace. Namjoon stood firmly in Hoseok’s corner, championing every idea Hoseok tossed out—like challenging the HOA or rallying the neighbors for a vote. Taehyung tried to get a word in, but every time he did, Namjoon countered with all the reasons they had to fight. He even suggested calling Jimin, their cousin who was the town sheriff, if things turned messy. It was a whole parade of big personalities with strong opinions, and Taehyung looked ready to pop.

Sitting curled up in her favorite armchair, Y/N decided it was time to mediate. “Joon, we hear you,” she said, leveling her gaze at him before looking at Taehyung. “But let’s give Taehyung some space to explain his side. And what if we ask Jungkook and Blair to weigh in too? If they back this plan, maybe Taehyung will feel better.”

Taehyung’s relief was almost tangible. “Yes—please. Call Jungkook and Blair. If we get them on board, I can at least know we’re not going rogue.”

He shot Hoseok an apologetic look. “I know you’ve got to get back to Denver soon,” he said, trying to sound casual but clearly feeling guilty. “I don’t want to mess with your playoff prep. I get that the kids should have a great Christmas. I just need you to understand my side.”

Y/N snorted, unable to resist teasing him a bit. “Tae, you’re sounding so diplomatic I’m waiting for Mr. Berty from fourth grade to show up and give you a gold star.” When Taehyung subtly flipped her the bird, she stifled a giggle.

Sighing dramatically, Taehyung relented. “Okay, fine. I’ll call Jungkook. Blair’s usually the easier sell, anyway.”

Namjoon nodded briskly, making a hurry-up motion. “Don’t just stand there. Make the call.”

Taehyung eyed the clock. “It’s after nine, bro. Isn’t this late?”

Namjoon smirked. “Jungkook doesn’t sleep before midnight, and Blair’s like a wind-up toy that never stops. They’ll pick up.”

With a low groan, Taehyung disappeared into the kitchen, phone already ringing. His muttering faded into the next room.

With him gone, Y/N decided it was time to shift gears. “The kids had such a blast tonight,” she said softly, hoping to ease the tension. “Arabella’s practically welded to that Rudolph, and Max… I mean, good luck getting him to think about anything besides that helicopter set now.”

Ji-woo’s expression warmed. “I’m just glad they had fun. Poor Santa Seth, though. He looked wiped out.”

Namjoon laughed. “Don’t worry about Seth. Beth’s probably got him on a steady regimen of ice packs and hot chocolate. That man’s taken bigger hits. Kids can be ruthless.”

Hoseok chimed in, his tone curious. “I saw there was a food drive. Is there a big need around here?”

Namjoon’s easygoing demeanor faded slightly as he explained. “It’s better now than a few years ago, but this place took a hit. The mill closed down some lines, people lost jobs. Recovery’s slow. Especially this time of year.”

Y/N nodded, voice quieter. “Lots of families are on the edge. You’d be surprised how many work full-time but still can’t get by. I’ve volunteered at the food bank. People slip through the cracks.”

Hoseok’s brow creased thoughtfully. “That’s awful. Every place I’ve played, I try to give back. My old coach used to say, ‘They show up for us, we show up for them.’ It stuck with me.”

A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. “Your coach sounds like a good person.”

Hoseok grinned. “One of the best. He’d ream me out after a bad game, but he never missed a chance to remind me what really mattered.”

Ji-woo laughed. “When he got drafted, I’m not sure who cried more—Coach or Dad.”

Just then, Taehyung reappeared. He looked relieved—less tense around the eyes. “Blair says they’ll be here tomorrow after five. Her dad’s visiting—first holiday without her mom—so they’re hosting him, but they’ll swing by.”

Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “Walter Reid’s a big name. When he weighs in, people listen.”

Y/N leaned over, giving Taehyung a quick side hug, feeling the unspoken weight he’d been carrying. “You’ve done everything you can.”

Namjoon nodded approvingly. “You did good, Tae.”

Ji-woo and Hoseok nodded too, their quiet solidarity reassuring him. And Taehyung, for the first time that night, allowed himself a long, steady breath and a small, hopeful smile. Maybe this Christmas would turn out all right after all.

The next evening, Jungkook and Blair Jeon showed up, each of them so strikingly different that Y/N’s head spun a little just looking at them. Jungkook was tall, solid as a cedar, with neatly combed black hair and eyes so warm and steady they felt like a campfire you could settle around for hours. He was the kind of person who didn’t waste words—he only spoke when it counted, and when he did, everyone leaned in.

Blair, meanwhile, was all sparks and fizz—blonde curls that bounced with every step, bright blue eyes that darted around the room, making sure she never missed a thing. She didn’t have to say a word to shift the energy; her presence alone brightened corners that had been dull five seconds ago. Even with their differences, it was clear they both cared fiercely, like they shared a quiet agreement: kindness first, always.

And then there was Walter Reid, Blair’s father, who seemed to take up more space than he actually occupied. He was tall and broad, his silver hair perfect, his face etched with lines that said he’d lived through more than anyone else in the room. He didn’t bother with unnecessary smiles. He didn’t need them—his eyes said he could see right through every half-truth and polite lie.

As Y/N explained the plan to bring back the Christmas lights that the HOA had so rudely snuffed out, Walter watched silently, his gaze like a judge’s final verdict waiting to be delivered. Ji-woo flipped through old photos, spreading them like evidence on a coffee table: once upon a time, this neighborhood had shimmered in December. Now, thanks to a few power-hungry board members, it looked like Christmas had decided to skip town.

Blair was practically hopping with frustration. “I’m telling you, Tiffany and Rachel are behind this,” she said, jabbing a photo as if it might give in and confess. Y/N nodded, unsurprised. Tiffany Wallace and Rachel McDonald were the type who wanted things their way and never bothered to pretend otherwise.

Hoseok stood beside Y/N, noticing—despite his best efforts—how good she looked in that cozy sweater and jeans. He tried to refocus, to catch up on whatever Walter and Blair were discussing. But it was hard when Y/N looked so at ease here, like this room and these people and these problems were all part of some soft tapestry he’d just been invited into.

“Babygirl, let me see those charter amendments,” Walter said to Blair, voice low and gravelly. Blair handed over the papers, still scowling. Walter’s eyes skimmed the text. “Recent changes,” he murmured. “Voted in by a slim majority. That means it wouldn’t take much to push them back out.”

Jungkook leaned in, nodding. “We just need the neighbors on board. Half of them probably don’t even know the rules changed. If we show them what’s going on, we could turn this thing around.”

Blair’s mood shifted from fury to determination in a flash. “Then that’s what we do,” she said, clapping her hands. “We bring them all in. We light the match.”

Y/N smiled, relieved. “We’ll organize a meeting. Show them they have a choice. People want Christmas back—they just need to believe they can have it.”

Hoseok grinned too, leaning forward, his voice warm. “I can help. I mean, I’ve got a few fans who might show up if it means Christmas lights and a selfie or two.”

Y/N glanced his way, heart feeling unexpectedly full. He wanted to be part of this, part of her world. It was a small thing—just lights, really—but something about the way he jumped right in touched her.

Walter eyed them all, unmoved, as if still deciding if this fight was worth the trouble. “What’s this got to do with me?” he asked flatly.

“Daddy, it’s not right,” Blair repeated, for maybe the hundredth time that night, each time with the exact same fierce conviction.

Jungkook rested a calming hand on her shoulder. “Let your dad take a look, Blair. We need his advice.”

Blair huffed, but she let Walter read. He turned pages with the careful patience of a man who’d picked apart trickier contracts in his time. When he finally spoke, his words were measured: “If you go public, you might draw attention you don’t want. The media could twist this. Make the HOA look like victims. Could complicate other projects in the pipeline.”

Blair looked ready to explode. “Who would side with the HOA?” she demanded, incredulous.

Walter’s gaze shifted to Hoseok, and this time his tone was almost fatherly. “You’re not just any guy off the street, kid. You’re a Seahawk. Your team’s PR isn’t going to love seeing you in a local tug-of-war.”

Hoseok grimaced, realizing Walter had a point. “I’ll check with them,” he said, sounding reluctant.

A tense hush settled over the room until Namjoon stepped out quietly. When he returned, he had Arabella in his arms, half-asleep and clinging to Rudolph. Y/N shot him a questioning look, but Namjoon just smiled and walked over to Walter.

“This is Ari,” he said softly. “Ari, meet Mr. Reid.”

Arabella blinked, clutching her Rudolph and peering at Walter with big, curious eyes. She gave him a tiny wave, all quiet courage and bedtime drowsiness.

Namjoon set her down next to the photos. Arabella, so serious for someone so small, pointed at the pictures. “Lights,” she said firmly, “Santa. Fix. Please.”

You could almost see Walter’s armor crack. He let out a weary sigh, running a hand through his silver hair. “Oh hell. Fine. Just keep it low-key, all right?”

Namjoon’s grin could have lit up a stadium. “Thank you,” he said, clapping Walter on the shoulder. Walter rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement there. “I knew you wouldn’t say no,” Namjoon teased lightly. “Marine training teaches you how to get results.”

Arabella squealed, hugging Namjoon’s leg. Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Maybe things were still complicated, and maybe they’d have to tread carefully. But at least they had a green light. At least they weren’t alone.

Hoseok’s eyes found Y/N again. He liked the way her smile looked in the soft lamplight. Liked that he was seeing her not just as some passing figure in his off-season life, but as someone he wanted to know more deeply. There was a story beginning here—one that he hoped they’d have time to tell.

Later that night, Y/N stood on her front lawn, arms folded over her coat, taking it all in. The new decorations weren’t over-the-top, but they were just enough. An eight-foot inflatable Santa beamed merrily at the snow, and multicolored lights wound around the porch and windows like cheerful ribbons. The whole place glowed. Across the street, Arabella pressed her hands and nose against the window, eyes gone huge with delight. Y/N smiled, feeling a tiny spark inside her chest—this was Christmas at its best, all bright colors and gentle wonder, nothing more complicated than a kid’s joy.

Walter had already taken off back to Denver, warning Y/N to brace for any fallout. But Y/N wasn’t worried. She knew how small towns worked: people loved their drama soft and manageable, like a soap opera they could switch off after dinner. Tiffany and Rachel would probably have plenty to say, but real consequences? She doubted it. If anything, it would all just turn into good old-fashioned grocery aisle gossip.

Inside, she could hear laughter drifting in from the living room. By the time she slipped back in, Blair had commandeered the couch—three glasses of wine deep—and was grinning at the ceiling like it had just told her the best joke in the world. Y/N had barely shut the door when Blair’s voice floated through the room, slurred and enthusiastic:

“He’s hot. You should totally tap that.”

Y/N stumbled, wide-eyed, nearly dropping her keys. “I’m sorry, what now?”

Blair rolled her head toward Y/N, eyes sparkling with a wine-soaked confidence. “Hoseok Jung!” she repeated, waving a hand dramatically. “Girl, hop on that train. Enjoy the ride.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flare with heat. Blair’s bluntness wasn’t new, but this was... a lot. “Blair,” she sputtered, trying for stern and failing. “He’s leaving tomorrow. He’s got a life in Denver, and I have classes. It’s not exactly a meet-cute that’s going to last, okay?”

“Ugh, whatever,” Blair said, swiping the air dismissively. “You can teach and have a life. And if he’s half as good in bed as he is on the field, you’re basically signing up for fireworks.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. She glanced around as if the furniture might be judging her. “Blair!” she hissed, but a laugh slipped out despite her best efforts.

Blair smirked, taking another sip of her “truth juice.” “Oh, come on. After that jerk Garrett took off with Kate, don’t you think you deserve a little... holiday cheer? I’m not suggesting you run away and elope, just... sample the goods. I saw the way Hoseok looked at you.”

Y/N snatched at Blair’s wineglass, but Blair evaded with surprising agility for someone so tipsy. “I think you’ve had enough,” Y/N said, breathlessly, cheeks still warm.

Blair raised a brow, wiggling it like some kind of cartoon villain. “Don’t try to silence me. You know I’m right. You’ve been Miss Responsible for way too long. Let your hair down. Have fun. Specifically, have fun with a hot football player who’s clearly into you.”

Y/N let out a disbelieving laugh, reaching again for the glass. This time Blair conceded with a playful sigh, handing it over. “Fine, fine,” Blair said, leaning back like a starlet. “But remember my words when you’re old and gray: truth flows from the grapes.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, still smiling as she set the wine on the counter. But just as quickly as she dismissed Blair’s teasing, Hoseok’s face floated into her mind. She could picture him so clearly—his easy grin, the way he’d settled on the floor to read to Arabella, how natural he’d looked in this little world that wasn’t his. And, okay, yes... that spark in his eyes when he’d looked her way.

She closed her eyes for a second, trying to talk herself down. He was leaving tomorrow. Their lives were galaxies apart. He was... famous, for crying out loud. And she was a teacher with a comfortable, ordinary life. It’s just a silly crush, she told herself. A harmless holiday daydream.

From the couch, Blair’s voice drifted lazily: “I saw that look! You’re into him.”

Y/N huffed a laugh, flicking off the kitchen light and grabbing a blanket. She returned to the living room and draped it over Blair’s shoulders. “Go to sleep, B,” she said softly.

Blair’s eyes fluttered half-closed, a grin still tugging at her lips. Y/N watched her friend settle into a dozy contentment. The room fell quiet, the only sounds a distant car on a snowy street and the soft hum of the heater. For a moment, it felt like the whole house was holding its breath.

Y/N sank onto the edge of the recliner, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. She tried to imagine what tomorrow would feel like. Hoseok would head back to Denver, back to his team, his life. She’d keep teaching, keep living in this small town full of neighborly squabbles and cozy holiday traditions. Was there a chance something could cross the space between them?

Probably not. But it sure was nice to think about—even if only for tonight. It made her feel warm, a little bit braver, and just maybe, a tiny bit closer to the kind of magic that made ordinary people do extraordinary things.

Hoseok couldn’t get Y/N out of his head. It was like his mind had just grabbed onto the memory of her laugh and refused to let go. The way her grin tilted when she teased her brother, that quick, light-in-her-eyes smile—it all played on a loop behind his eyelids whenever he blinked. Plus, the way she moved, so confident and at ease, made him feel like some eager understudy watching a lead he was dying to impress.

And now, there she was, standing in her front yard, facing down two furious blondes as if they were yapping dachshunds trying to nip at her ankles. He could practically see the invisible line she’d drawn—You shall not pass!—and it made him grin. She looked fierce and steady, even as Blair, three glasses of wine in, half-waltzed, half-wobbled behind her, sloshing red liquid in dangerous arcs.

Inside, Ji-woo hovered near the window, hand poised over the curtain like she wanted to intervene but wasn’t sure if she should. Hoseok got it. Ji-woo had seen enough drama in her life, and from what he understood, some scars still felt fresh. She wasn’t big on conflict, not anymore.

“I’ll go,” Hoseok said, shrugging into his jacket. He could feel Ji-woo’s relief before she even answered. He’d offered partly to help Y/N, partly because he was, let’s face it, pretty smitten, and partly because he just hated seeing Y/N out there alone, dealing with what looked suspiciously like Mean Girls: Christmas Edition.

“Are you sure?” Ji-woo asked, voice low. She bit her lip, glancing out at the scene.

“Yeah,” Hoseok said simply. “I kind of got them into this. The least I can do is back them up.”

He stepped into the chilly night and caught the tail end of the blondes’ complaints. One waved a piece of paper at Y/N, like it was a holy writ and not just a crumpled memo. Blair was still in the background, humming something off-key and offering her wine bottle to an inflatable Santa.

Y/N sighed, exasperated. “Blair, maybe it’s time to go inside.”

Before Blair could respond, she spotted Hoseok like he was the second coming of Christmas. “There he is!” she crowed, pointing. “Hoseok Jung, Y/N! You gotta tap that ass, girl!”

Hoseok nearly choked on a laugh, managing to keep a straight face with heroic effort. He plastered on his best “professional athlete” smile—confident, friendly, utterly unbothered by chaos—and stepped beside Y/N. “Evening, ladies,” he said, voice low and calm. “Is there a problem here?”

The shorter blonde’s eyes went cartoon-wide. “Oh my god, you’re Hoseok Jung!” she squealed, as if she’d just met a unicorn holding a stack of Super Bowl tickets. The other blonde—taller, more scowly—floundered for a moment, caught between annoyance and fangirl bewilderment.

“Yes, that’s me,” he said, tucking his hands in his jacket pockets like it was no big deal. He nodded toward the decorations, the twinkling lights that had caused all this fuss. “My sister lives across the street. Y/N and her friends put these up for her kids. It’s Christmas—just trying to bring a little cheer.”

The taller blonde, Rae, tried to hold onto her scowl but ended up somewhere between a grimace and a pained smile. “They still break HOA rules,” she grumbled, but her tone had lost its teeth.

Hoseok tilted his head, the very picture of reasonable concern. “Y/N doesn’t belong to the HOA, though, right?” he said mildly. “Seems like a misunderstanding. Maybe you could schedule a meeting? I’m heading back to Denver, but Monday’s my day off. I’d be happy to join a neighborhood discussion. Clear the air.”

The blondes exchanged a look that said: We just got invited to a party with a celebrity. Rae cleared her throat. “Monday at seven might work,” she conceded.

“Perfect,” Hoseok said, with a smile so genuine it could’ve warmed a glacier. The shorter blonde sighed dreamily. Rae just nodded, all her bravado melted like butter on hot toast.

Behind them, Blair muttered something triumphant—something involving “bitches” and “booyah”—then promptly leaned against Santa, trying to give him a taste of her wine.

When the blondes drifted off, possibly to brag about their Monday meeting with Hoseok Jung, he turned to Y/N. “Need a hand with Blair?” he asked, already moving to steady her.

Y/N gave him a grateful, lopsided smile. “Please. She’s on a roll tonight.”

Hoseok scooped Blair up like a rowdy toddler and carried her toward the house, Blair giggling and whispering nonsense about quarterbacks and “naughty Santa” in his ear. The whole scene felt like a snapshot from a cozy indie movie—Christmas lights glowing soft around them, warm laughter inside, and Y/N at his side, her eyes dancing with amusement.

Once inside, he deposited Blair gently on the couch. Y/N straightened a bit, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks,” she said softly, arms folding across her chest. “She’s great, but... a handful when she’s had too much wine.”

He laughed, leaning against the doorframe. “I’ve seen worse tailgate parties,” he teased. “She’s entertaining.”

Y/N watched her friend burrow into the couch cushions, still clutching the wine bottle as if it were a cherished teddy bear, then turned back to him. Her expression had changed—softened, relaxed. “I guess I owe you one,” she said.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, grinning. “I think we’re even. But I’ll keep the ‘tap my ass’ suggestion on the table,” he added, voice low and playful.

Y/N flushed pink and let out a scandalized laugh. “I can’t believe she said that,” she groaned, hiding her face in her hand for a second.

He shrugged, eyes never leaving hers. “She’s not entirely wrong,” he said, pretending to examine the lights on the wall. “I am pretty tappable, from what I hear.”

She rolled her eyes, giving his arm a gentle, playful shove. “You’re trouble, Jung.”

“Good trouble,” he countered, quiet and sure, something warm slipping into his tone.

In that moment, the world outside seemed to vanish. It was just the two of them in the soft glow of the Christmas lights, Blair’s faint snores in the background, and the distant hum of small-town life wrapping around them like a cozy scarf. Maybe he’d be back in Denver soon, and maybe they lived in different spheres. But right now, Y/N was right here in front of him, and he was more than happy to be a little trouble in her world.

With Blair sound asleep and softly snoring, Y/N suddenly realized something crucial: she was alone with Hoseok. The very Hoseok who’d heard Blair, in her infinite drunken wisdom, tell her to “tap that ass.” Fantastic. Just the scenario you dream of, right?

The air felt charged, like the hush after a good joke and right before everyone breaks into laughter. Y/N tried to find her footing in what always comforted her—simple hospitality. “Want something to drink?” she blurted, her voice coming out way too eager, like she was offering a lifeboat instead of a beverage.

Hoseok smiled, and there was just a hint of mischief in it. “Beer?” he suggested, eyebrows raised like he was testing her.

“Beer. Right. Coming up,” she said, grateful for something to do besides melt on the spot. She practically darted into the kitchen. “Is Corona okay?” she called, relieved to be behind the open fridge door, where he couldn’t see her flushed cheeks.

“Got a lime?” he asked, voice smooth enough to make her heart skip twice.

“Yeah, from taco night,” she said, rummaging around. “Taehyung’s obsessed with the whole lime-and-Corona thing. I think it makes him feel like he’s on some tropical beach, instead of here where the big excitement is a holiday HOA debate.” She rolled her eyes at herself, then handed him the bottle and wedge of lime.

“Nothing wrong with pretending,” Hoseok said, leaning against the counter. His gaze followed her movements so closely that she almost felt like a painting he was admiring. “So… you and Taehyung—twins?”

Y/N laughed as she twisted open her own soda. “Not quite. We’re a year apart. People at school called us the ‘Kim twins’ anyway. He’s tall and broad, and I’m built like my halmeoni. Still, I grew up hearing, ‘Oh, you must be Taehyung’s sister!’ which was my personal favorite.”

Hoseok smiled, something soft and understanding there. “My family’s scattered everywhere. Mom and Dad are in England right now, visiting my uncle. I’m grateful we all stay connected, even if it’s at weird distances.”

Y/N couldn’t help a grin. “Did you pack tights for the trip?” she teased, recalling something about England and stadium traditions—though maybe that was rugby.

He snorted, eyes crinkling. “The closest I have are my uniform pants. Not quite the same look.”

Uniform pants. Y/N’s thoughts took a brief, traitorous journey to how Hoseok probably looked in those uniform pants, and she nearly choked on her soda. Perfect timing, Blair mumbled something incomprehensible from the couch, followed by a muttered “Biotch,” and Hoseok burst into laughter so warm it filled the entire kitchen.

Y/N shook her head, fond but exasperated. “This is mild for her. Last time she hit the tequila, we found her on the roof trying to talk the moon down for a midnight chat. She was, um… not clothed.”

Hoseok’s laughter turned breathless, forcing him to set down his beer. “You’re kidding.”

Y/N held up her hands. “Swear. We got her down eventually, but not before she tried to sing a love ballad to a very startled raccoon.”

They both laughed, but then the mood shifted slightly as Y/N’s smile took on a sympathetic tilt. “This year’s been tough for her. First Christmas without her mom, plus they’re trying to start a family. I think it all just hit her tonight.”

Hoseok’s expression turned gentle, the understanding deepening. “Life sneaks up on you sometimes.”

A soft hush settled between them, a moment that felt more meaningful than anything they’d said. The twinkling Christmas lights in the other room cast a friendly glow, and Y/N wondered if this was how new memories formed—quietly, unexpectedly, in small-town kitchens while someone snored on the couch.

She cleared her throat, feeling the moment tiptoe toward something more intense. “Another beer?” she offered, holding the fridge door open like a shield.

Hoseok shook his head. “One’s enough. I try not to drink too much during the season. Gotta keep my focus.”

“Right, football and all,” Y/N said, stepping back and finding him suddenly closer—so close, in fact, that the scent of him was all warm fabric and subtle cologne. She almost squeaked in surprise but managed to keep it together.

Her breath caught as their eyes met, and suddenly he was there, right there, tilting his head so their faces nearly touched. If she’d wanted to move back, she couldn’t have—she was drawn in, completely, like gravity had decided this exact moment was too perfect to resist.

Then he kissed her. A soft, searching kiss that felt like a secret spoken aloud for the first time. She melted into it, her hands curving over his chest, feeling the heat of him through his sweater. His arms found her waist, and the gentle tension between them turned into something bright and urgent. She barely registered when he lifted her onto the counter, their breaths mingling, his kisses trailing softly down her neck, sending electric sparks skittering beneath her skin.

It was quiet and magical and everything she never knew she wanted at that exact second—until the clomping sound of boots in the hallway snapped her back to reality.

“Hey, Y/N, we got any food?” Taehyung’s voice drifted in, casual and clueless, like a bowling ball striking pins of romantic tension.

They pulled apart as if someone had flipped a switch. Y/N’s heart hammered in her chest, and Hoseok’s eyes were still dark and a little dazed. They stared at each other, caught in the aftermath of a perfect, impossible moment.

Taehyung’s footsteps got louder, heading their way. Y/N’s heart sank and soared at the same time. She shot Hoseok a look that said, We are so busted, and tried to smooth her hair, tried to pretend she wasn’t just thoroughly kissing a very famous, very attractive quarterback on her kitchen counter.

As Taehyung popped into view, Y/N forced a bright, shaky smile. But inside, a thousand thoughts danced and collided: He’s leaving soon, we barely know each other, what just happened, what does this mean, oh god oh god oh god.

She met Hoseok’s gaze one more time, and there was that spark again, a promise unspoken. Y/N swallowed hard, knowing her heart might never be the same.

After the kiss—that one kiss that had nearly knocked the air right out of Hoseok’s lungs—it was all he could think about. The memory of Y/N’s lips on his, the way she fit so perfectly against him, how the world had narrowed down to just the two of them… It was like stepping into a lightning storm and being thrilled instead of terrified. Now he was back in Denver, and it felt unreal. Had it been a dream? The more he replayed it, the more he wondered if she was slipping from tangible reality into wistful memory.

He hadn’t seen her since. Not once. He hadn’t even gotten her number—who did that in this day and age? It wasn’t until Monday, as he was sitting behind the wheel, driving back into the heart of Salida, that he realized how much was still unsaid. He’d told himself the HOA meeting was what drew him back, but deep down he knew better. He was here because of her, because he needed to know if that kiss had spun her world off its axis the way it had spun his.

Pulling into Ji-woo’s driveway, he couldn’t help but look straight across the street at the Kims’ house. Twinkling lights decorated the front yard in a way that seemed to laugh at the stuffy HOA rules. Arabella spotted him from the porch and let out a squeal that lit up her entire face—her delight so real and honest it warmed him from the inside out. Family was why he’d returned; he reminded himself of that. But even as he swept Arabella into a bear hug, laughing as she pointed excitedly at the lights, his mind drifted to another face entirely.

Ji-woo caught his eye, smirking just a little, like she knew exactly what was going on in that head of his. “She’s been waiting for you,” she said, voice light, but her tone held a deeper note—an understanding, maybe even approval.

Arabella waved at the lights, riled up with holiday glee. “Uncle Hobi, lights!” she insisted, as if he hadn’t noticed them glowing in the twilight.

“That’s right, kiddo,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I’m gonna do my best to make sure they stay right where they are.” Arabella’s grin was like a stamp of approval all on its own. Still, his mind kept wandering, drifting across the street, wondering if Y/N was inside right now, maybe looking out the window, remembering their last encounter the way he did.

He tried to ground himself with small talk. “Did you catch the game yesterday?” he asked Arabella, fully aware of her likely answer.

“No ball!” she announced primly, wrinkling her nose like football was the lamest invention ever. Hoseok chuckled and set her down, just in time to see a familiar Kia pulling into the Kims’ driveway.

Y/N stepped out, looking effortlessly put together in grey slacks and a soft pink sweater, a black coat draped over her arm. She moved with a kind of quiet grace that made Hoseok’s heart skip. From the way she carried herself, to the gentle curve of her smile—he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

“Hey, neighbors!” she called, voice ringing softly through the crisp air. “Ready for tonight?” There was that easy warmth to her tone, the slightest lift at the end like an invitation.

Hoseok tried for nonchalance, even as his pulse fluttered. “Looking forward to it,” he said, hoping he sounded as smooth as he was trying to be.

Her gaze lingered on him a heartbeat longer than necessary. “If you want to come by beforehand, Tae’s making pizza, and I’ve got brownies.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but her eyes flicked to him again, and the corner of her mouth curved in a secret smile that set off sparks under his skin.

Arabella squealed, clearly sold at the mere mention of brownies. Ji-woo laughed, holding her back. “I think she likes your idea,” she said, and Y/N answered with a light laugh of her own.

“Come whenever,” Y/N said, still looking at Hoseok. “Unless you have other plans?” There was a playful note in her voice, a gentle challenge. He swallowed, trying to find words, but Ji-woo jumped in first.

“Oh, we’ll be there,” Ji-woo said decisively, shooting him a look that said Don’t even think about backing out, buddy.

Y/N gave a small nod, that small smile still in place, before heading inside. Hoseok watched her go, his mind whirring with a hundred questions, a thousand hopes. He’d barely stepped foot back in town, and already they had dinner plans. He didn’t know what tonight would bring, but he was buzzing with anticipation—like he was on the field, seconds before the play that could change everything.

“Dinner with the Kims, huh?” Ji-woo teased, eyebrows raised, her voice sing-song with suggestion. Maxwell appeared out of nowhere, eyes big. “Did someone say brownies?”

Hoseok ruffled Maxwell’s hair absently. “And pizza,” he said, though he was only half-present. His thoughts were already across the street, trying to parse every smile, every lifted eyebrow Y/N had offered.

Inside the house, he could feel the warmth of family wrapping around him—but tonight, he wanted more than that. He wanted a moment alone with her. He needed to know if that night in the kitchen, their kiss full of promise and possibility, was just a beautiful blip… or the start of something bigger. Tonight, he might just find out.

Inside, Y/N felt like every one of her nerves had decided to start a chorus line on her spine. Holy hell—Hoseok was back in town, and he looked better than any memory could do justice. Her thoughts skittered around that kiss they’d shared once, the kiss that still had the power to make her heart pound whenever it popped into her head. She’d replayed it in her mind more times than she’d care to admit, always wondering if it had knocked him off-balance as much as it had rattled her. And now he was here, standing at her door again. If there was any fairness in the world, they’d get a second take on that unforgettable moment.

But first, there was her brother. Taehyung had a flair for throwing a wrench into her plans. “Tae!” she hollered up the stairs, trying not to sound frantic. “Get down here! Ji-woo, Hoseok, and the kids are on their way, and Joon’s coming, too!”

“Already in the kitchen, sis!” came his voice, and relief swam through her. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a chaos-fest after all.

She found him amid a pizza-making operation so elaborate it could’ve been a culinary art exhibit. Pizza crusts spread out like blank canvases, toppings arranged in tidy rows, Taehyung wielding an olive oil brush as if he were painting a masterpiece. He glanced over his shoulder, giving her a casual shrug.

“I figured the kids could make their own pizzas,” he said, as if it were no big deal. “We can handle a few personal pies at once.”

Y/N stepped closer, touched by his thoughtfulness. “You know, you can be really sweet, Tae,” she teased, going in to pinch his cheek. He dodged with a mock-flex of his bicep.

“And don’t forget good-looking,” he tossed back, striking a ridiculous pose that made her roll her eyes.

“Stop that,” Y/N said, stifling a laugh. “You’ll scare the kids.”

They laughed together, comfortable and teasing, until the doorbell rang. Y/N ran a quick hand through her hair, adjusted her bra strap, tried to look casual. For the kids, sure, but mostly for their uncle. She flicked on the Christmas tree lights and opened the door just in time to see Maxwell rocket inside, followed by Ji-woo wielding a giant salad bowl. And then, Hoseok. He entered with Arabella perched in his arms, the sight of him so effortlessly handsome that Y/N’s breath hitched. Seriously, how did he manage to look even better than the last time?

“Brought salad,” Ji-woo announced, smiling warmly.

“Perfect,” Y/N said, ushering them all in. “We’ll need something green to balance all the carbs.” She nodded toward the kitchen. “Tae’s got a pizza station set up. The kids can go wild.”

Maxwell and Arabella shot off like tiny comets, squealing at the prospect of decorating their own pizzas. Arabella paused only to nod solemnly at Y/N’s Christmas tree, as if granting it royal approval, before joining her brother.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something else—but then she felt a gentle tug on her hand. Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Hoseok, standing much closer than expected. His eyes held a warm gleam, and she felt a flutter low in her stomach.

“Hi,” he said softly, voice pitched for her ears only.

“Hi,” she managed, just before he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers—a light, quick kiss that somehow still rattled her bones. It was shy and bold all at once, and it made that memory of their first kiss crackle back to life, reminding her just how good they’d been together.

“You never gave me your number,” he teased, dark eyes dancing.

She feigned nonchalance. “You never asked,” she said, a playful lift in her brow.

“I’m asking now,” he grinned, extending his phone.

She typed her number carefully, trying to keep her fingers steady and her face neutral, then handed it back with a smile. “There, now you have it.”

Before Hoseok could respond, two solid knocks rattled the door. Namjoon stepped inside like a man on a mission, still in his captain’s uniform, scanning the room as if expecting to find mischief afoot.

“Kid, you’ve gotta start locking that door,” he scolded, but Y/N just rolled her eyes.

“It’s Salida, Dad. We’re fine.” She motioned everyone toward the kitchen. “Tae’s making pizza, come on.”

Namjoon’s gaze landed on Hoseok. “Good game, son,” he said, giving a respectful nod. “Pizza ready?”

“Tae’s on it,” Y/N answered, slipping away from Hoseok with a quick, secret smile. She noticed Hoseok’s eyes following her—like he was reluctant to let her out of his sight—and her heart stumbled a little.

Namjoon grunted appreciatively. “If architecture doesn’t pan out, that boy could open a pizzeria.”

Y/N snorted. “Sure, because working for one of the biggest developers in the West isn’t enough for him. He needs a pizza empire.”

As if summoned by his new entrepreneurial calling, Taehyung appeared with the kids, all wearing holiday aprons. Maxwell’s had snowmen, Arabella’s had Santas, and Taehyung’s proudly proclaimed ‘Got Mistletoe?’ Hoseok joined them, kneeling down to admire the toppings. The kitchen swelled with laughter and chatter as everyone piled their pizzas high.

Soon, Ji-woo’s salad was making rounds, and they hovered together, waiting for the pizzas to bake. The air smelled like yeast and tomato sauce and spices. Light bounced off shiny ornaments on the Christmas tree just beyond the kitchen doorway. It felt like the set of a warm holiday special, the kind you watched curled up under a blanket.

Jungkook and Blair arrived, drawn by the promise of good food and the evening’s impending drama at the HOA meeting. Blair was especially giddy, eyeing the brownies and pizza like party favors at a carnival. But Hoseok barely noticed them. He was watching Y/N, watching the way she laughed with her family, the way she moved around the kitchen so naturally, as if this place had a gravity all its own, pulling them all closer.

Namjoon snagged a brownie, chewing thoughtfully before turning to Y/N with a mock-serious glare. “I’m gonna need these at the station’s potluck,” he said, lips quirking into a grudging smile. “Yoongi will have my head if I don’t show up with something good.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Magic word?”

Namjoon made a show of pouting. “Pleease, Sissy?” He drew it out until Y/N burst into laughter. The sound rang bright and clear, filling the room with an easy, loving warmth.

Hoseok leaned back in his chair, completely enchanted. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at home in a place that wasn’t really his home at all. The memory of their brief kiss hummed in his veins, a promise that maybe this moment, this feeling, didn’t have to be temporary. Maybe it could lead somewhere real.

As he sat there, watching Y/N tease her dad, saw Taehyung and Jungkook ganging up on Namjoon with good-humored glee, and caught Arabella’s serious nod of approval for every single topping choice… Hoseok realized something. He wasn’t just attracted to Y/N. He was drawn to the life around her, the family she was part of, the easy, genuine way she cared for the people in her orbit.

She looked back at him then, as if sensing his thoughts, and in that glance was everything: the memory of their kiss, the humor in their banter, and a hint of something else—something hopeful and warm and bright, like a candle flickering to life in the dark.

Hoseok turned as Taehyung nudged him, offering a fresh plate of brownies with a conspiratorial wink. He took one, smiling as he popped it into his mouth. Sure, there was a meeting later and a hundred unresolved questions. But right now, in this laughing, glowing kitchen, Hoseok could believe that he’d found something worth holding on to—and her name was Y/N.

At the HOA meeting that night, Tiffany and Rachel swept in like it was some Saturday night hotspot—clicking heels, sequined dresses catching the fluorescent lights in a way that felt more tragic than glamorous. Blair had to step outside to control her laughter, and when she came back, her shoulders still shook quietly. The rest of them huddled in folding chairs that squeaked when you leaned back too far, trying not to stare too openly at the spectacle.

Tiffany and Rachel took their seats at the front beside old Scott Watts Sr., who looked about eighty and seemed to be only halfway tuned in. His son, Scott Jr., hovered near him, trying not to look mortified.

“Meeting called to order,” Rachel said in a voice that aimed for regal and landed closer to nasal. She shot Y/N a look that implied the Christmas lights issue was basically a personal vendetta. She even angled a sultry glance at Hoseok, but it landed somewhere between a sneer and the face you make when you realize the milk’s gone sour.

From across the room, Y/N caught Blair’s eye, and they exchanged smirks. If nothing else, this evening would make for some hilarious after-party commentary.

“This is about the clear violation of HOA bylaws,” Rachel droned, lifting her chin, “concerning the Kims’ front yard décor.” She delivered the line like it was a grave sin worthy of excommunication.

“I’ll have the tea,” Scott Sr. mumbled, cutting across Rachel’s speech. People turned and looked at each other in confusion, while Tiffany’s eyes rolled so dramatically Y/N half-expected them to pop out.

Tiffany jumped in next, puffing herself up. “As you know,” she said, “we voted two years ago for strict decoration bylaws to preserve the tasteful image of our neighborhood.”

“Tiff?” Deiondre Park raised her hand from the front row, looking perfectly composed.

“We haven’t opened the floor to comments,” Tiffany snapped, like a principal scolding a rowdy class.

“I believe it’s a clarification, not a comment,” cut in Deiondre’s husband, Jimin, in that measured tone only a traffic judge could master. Tiffany flinched—probably recalling the time she’d tried flirting her way out of a ticket and failed spectacularly.

From the back, someone shouted, “Let her speak!” and murmurings of agreement swelled through the room. Hoseok slid his hand over Y/N’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. A quiet sign: We’ve got this.

“Deiondre,” Rachel said with a huge, fake sigh, “go ahead.”

“I just don’t recall a vote,” Deiondre said, voice steady and confident. “Are there notes from that meeting? Because I’ve never seen them. Nor have I heard these rules mentioned before.”

Heads bobbed, a subtle wave of dissent rippling through the crowd.

“Told you it was shady,” Namjoon whispered to Y/N, crossing his arms. He looked like he was ready to slap metaphorical handcuffs on Tiffany and Rachel.

“I remember something about preferring white lights,” Tanya Hartley called from the back. “Rachel said it was standard for Avalanche properties.”

“Yeah,” Ford Fraserns chimed in, leaning forward with a daring gleam in his eyes. “And who put you two in charge, anyway?”

Rachel stiffened, her shoulders pulling back like a cat about to hiss. “We were voted in, along with Mr. Watts,” she said icily, as if that single sentence held all the authority in the world.

“Where’s that tea?” Scott Sr. mumbled again. This time, more people chuckled quietly. One of the old-timers, Adam Wagener, hollered, “Scotty, turn on your hearing aid!” and got a round of suppressed snorts for his trouble.

“What?” Scott shouted, fumbling with his earpiece. “Are we talking about Christmas lights now?”

“Yep,” Adam said, grinning wide. “And why you’re complaining.”

Scott Sr. threw up his hands. “I’m not! Those two—” he jerked a thumb at Tiffany and Rachel—“kept rattling on about colored lights being trashy. So I turned off my hearing aid. Figured I’d come back when they were done.” The crowd laughed outright now, and Y/N bit her lip to keep it together.

Tiffany flushed, doubling down. “We did have a vote! June 19th, 2022—about community beautification. White lights, no blow-ups.”

“And no gnomes,” Rachel chimed in, glaring at the Lawrences. “No need for entire gnome villages.”

“I’m still with Lee,” James Lawrence retorted. “Who put you two on the throne?”

“We were voted in for four-year terms,” Tiffany said with a smug little smirk. “Two years left.”

Hoseok leaned toward Y/N. “Clueless, isn’t she?” he murmured, amused.

“She lives in her own bubble,” Y/N whispered back, stifling a grin.

Before anyone could continue, Blair nudged Jungkook, and the two of them rose, moving to the front with a steady confidence that quieted the room. Hoseok glanced at Y/N, brows raised. Y/N just shook her head, excitement dancing in her eyes. She had no idea what they were about to do, but she knew it would be good.

Jungkook cleared his throat, his voice easily filling the room. “I’m Jungkook Jeon, and this is my wife Blair Reid-Jeon. Some of you remember me from when I lived in Salida.” A few heads nodded. “I’m also President and CEO of Avalanche Development.”

The entire room stilled. Tiffany and Rachel looked like they’d just realized their glittery dresses were inside out. Blair took over, her tone crisp. “When we built these communities, we wanted them family-friendly and fair. The basic HOA rules are standard. But any amendments—” she held up a binder “—are required to be provided to homeowners in writing.”

Jungkook scanned the crowd. “How many of you received notice of these amendments?” Only two hands went up—Rachel and Tiffany’s husbands. Y/N couldn’t help but smirk.

Jungkook continued calmly. “Since Tiffany and Rachel were elected, twenty-five amendments have been submitted here. Our other developments average six in the same period. That raised some questions.”

Blair nodded. “According to Avalanche policy, if we suspect a board is violating the original agreements, we can suspend that board pending an investigation. During suspension, all changes they enacted are null and void.”

A cheer erupted, applause rattling the folding chairs. Tiffany and Rachel looked as if their sequined dresses had turned into scratchy potato sacks. Their jaws tightened as if physically holding back protest.

Jungkook delivered the final blow, his voice carrying the ring of authority: “Until a new vote is held, Taehyung Kim will serve as the local representative for Avalanche Development.”

The crowd whooped. Taehyung waved, trying and failing to hide his pride. Rachel and Tiffany, thoroughly deflated, gathered their purses and their husbands and slunk out, heads low.

Y/N caught Hoseok’s eye, and he grinned wide. She felt light and triumphant, like something stuck in her throat had finally cleared. Tonight, they’d won back their Christmas lights, their freedom, and their dignity. And maybe, she thought, as Hoseok gave her hand another gentle, reassuring squeeze, they’d won something even sweeter than that.

Y/N leaned into Hoseok, her heart swelling with satisfaction. “I love it when justice is served.”

“Especially with a side of brownies,” Hoseok murmured, draping an arm around her and pulling her close.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Y/N turned to him with a grin. “Well, that was a bit anticlimactic,” she laughed, eyes sparkling with victory. “I was hoping for a full-blown protest.”

Hoseok chuckled, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “There’s always next time.”

Jungkook joined them, his grin mischievous as always. “Blair’s dad and our legal team did some serious digging. A few calls to the homeowners confirmed our suspicions—no one knew about these ‘amendments.’ And Deiondre? She’s ready to lead the charge. Tiffany once tried to charm Jimin out of some speeding tickets, but Deiondre? She’s got a long memory and a grudge.”

“So, can we light up Ji-woo’s yard?” Hoseok asked, glancing at Jungkook with a glint of hope.

“Hell yes,” Namjoon said, clapping Jungkook on the shoulder. “We’ll surprise Ms. Ari with the lights first thing in the morning.”

“And we should get some for our yard, too,” Y/N added, nudging Taehyung with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. “Nothing like a little reminder that sneaky business doesn’t pay off.”

Hoseok’s grin widened as he looked at her. “Need a shopping partner?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Why, Mr. Jung, I’d be honored. Think you can handle Target?”

Hoseok winked, making her stomach flutter. “Target’s my secret addiction.”

Laughing, Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the car. “Let’s go before the others catch on!” she whispered with a grin, glancing back to make sure they hadn’t been spotted. “Blair is fascinated by the fact that you can buy toilet paper and cute shoes at the same place!”

They were still laughing as they slid into his SUV. Y/N settled into the cozy warmth, inhaling the scent of him—something spicy and clean with a hint of leather. She could barely focus on anything but him.

“Music?” Hoseok asked as he started the car, giving her a curious look.

She nodded, wondering what he’d choose. When Sam Hunt’s Take Your Time started playing, she raised an eyebrow. “Country?” she teased, grinning.

Hoseok chuckled. “I like a bit of everything. Try not to judge.”

“Same,” Y/N agreed. “Taehyung always jokes that my playlists are the most chaotic thing about me.”

The drive was easy, filled with conversation—his move to Denver, her memories of growing up in Salida, Taehyung’s infamous cooking disaster. By the time they pulled into Target’s empty parking lot, it felt like only minutes had passed.

Inside, Y/N led the way to the Christmas section, fingers trailing over garlands and lights. She picked up a Frosty the Snowman blow-up, then a Grinch one, holding them up with a mischievous grin. “I’m thinking the Grinch right between Tiffany and Rachel’s houses.”

Hoseok laughed, a deep, rich sound that made her heart race. They wandered the aisles, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. At one point, Y/N broke into an off-key rendition of “Say You’ll Be There” by the Spice Girls, and Hoseok watched her, utterly captivated. Every little thing about her pulled him in, until he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to pull away.

“What do you think of these?” Y/N held up a box of large, multicolored retro lights, her eyes bright. “Thinking they’d look great in the windows.”

“They’re perfect,” Hoseok replied, holding up his own find—a large Rudolph blow-up. “Think Arabella will like this?”

“She’ll love it,” Y/N giggled, imagining the little girl’s delight. “She can put it right next to Santa.”

Just then, a young employee approached, wide-eyed as he recognized Hoseok. “Dude, you’re Hoseok Jung,” he whispered, starstruck.

Hoseok gave him a friendly smile. “Hey, Fraser. Could you keep it low-key? My girl and I are just trying to shop.”

The phrase my girl sent a thrill through Y/N’s chest, even if she knew it was just a way to keep things quiet. Still, it felt nice. Really nice.

Fraser looked ecstatic. “No problem. My dad’s a huge fan—he’d never believe I met you.”

“FaceTime him,” Y/N suggested, smiling. She loved making people’s day; it was one of the many things Hoseok admired about her. A few minutes later, Fraser was video chatting with his dad, and Hoseok was chatting and laughing with them both like old friends. At checkout, Fraser even gave them his employee discount as a thank-you, and Y/N, ever the charmer, kissed his cheek, wishing him a happy holiday.

As they stashed their bags in the car, Hoseok reached for her hand again. The touch was electric, and she looked up at him, heart racing as his thumb brushed over her skin.

“So,” Hoseok teased, his voice soft, “should I be jealous of Fraser?”

Y/N laughed, her voice a little breathless. “Oh, please,” she murmured, her lips curling into a smile. And then, without thinking, she closed the distance between them and kissed him.

It was like nothing she’d ever felt—the spark between them igniting into a full, consuming blaze. His lips moved against hers with a heat that left her breathless, her hands threading into his hair, pulling him closer. Every inch of her was alive, responding to him with a rush of want and need she couldn’t control.

Hoseok’s hands gripped her waist, pulling her onto his lap as the kiss deepened. The soft leather seats of the SUV faded away, the world outside disappearing as his mouth claimed hers. His fingers traced the curve of her back, sending delicious shivers down her spine, and Y/N couldn’t think of anything beyond the way he was making her feel.

When he finally pulled back, his breath warm against her skin, he whispered, his voice husky, “You taste so good.”

Her head spun, her heart pounding as she whispered back, “Oh God, Hoseok…”

He groaned, hands tightening on her waist, but managed to pull back just enough to rest his forehead against hers, his voice thick with restraint. “We really need to go,” he muttered, his tone both regretful and amused. “Pretty sure this parking lot isn’t the best place for this.”

“There’s a Motel 6 about ten minutes away,” Y/N teased, a wicked grin on her lips as she nibbled his lower lip.

Hoseok chuckled, a spark of mischief in his eyes, but there was a seriousness in his voice that sent a flutter through her heart. “Baby, our first time isn’t gonna be in some motel.”

“Damn,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss him one last time, slower this time, savoring the taste of him before reluctantly slipping back into her seat. He brushed a soft kiss on her forehead, and even as they sat there in the warm silence, she knew this was far from over. Her body hummed with anticipation, her mind spinning with possibilities. And as Hoseok started the engine, she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. One thing was certain—neither of them wanted this night to end.

That weekend, Hoseok had an away game, so he left early Tuesday morning to head back to Denver. But even a hundred miles couldn’t dull the connection between them. The distance didn’t stop them from staying in constant contact, texting, talking, and FaceTiming every chance they got, like their conversations were the only thing holding them together. The weekend flew by in a whirlwind of Broncos’ victory, securing their playoff spot and a first-round bye.

On Monday night, Hoseok’s voice filled her phone with a warmth that made her heart flutter. “Come to Denver for the weekend,” he suggested during their FaceTime call, his tone casual but carrying an unmistakable spark of anticipation. He turned his camera around to show off his sleek, modern condo with city lights twinkling behind the windows. “Stay with me. I’ll even cook my famous tacos.”

“Famous tacos?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning back on her couch with a half-smile, trying to play it cool despite the excitement bubbling in her chest.

“Yep,” Hoseok grinned, amused by her skepticism. “You know the drill: open the yellow box, brown the meat, stir in the seasoning packet, chop some toppings—boom, gourmet masterpiece.” He delivered his ‘recipe’ with mock seriousness, his playful eyes crinkling at the corners.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Don’t you think we should go on an actual date before I spend a weekend at your place, eating your so-called ‘famous tacos’?”

Hoseok’s grin widened. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he said, drawing out her name like it was a melody, teasing her as he leaned closer to the camera, “We’ve already been on plenty of dates. Let’s recap, shall we? First, there was the Christmas party where you dressed as an elf for me. By the way, if you still have that costume, feel free to bring it.” He gave a sly wink that made her cheeks flush.

Y/N covered her face, laughing. “That doesn’t count as a date!”

“Oh, it absolutely counts,” he insisted, barely holding back his own laughter. “Then there was that very classy ‘date’ in your kitchen, where your legs were wrapped around my waist, and your tongue was down my throat—top second date ever.”

“Unbelievable,” Y/N muttered, though her heart raced at the memory, her face heating up.

“We had a double date with your brother and my sister. Sure, Namjoon and the kids were there, but it totally counts,” he said, grinning. “And we went to a show together—the HOA meeting, which was nothing short of a Broadway production.”

Y/N could barely hold it together, laughing so hard she had to wipe her eyes. “So, those were all ‘dates,’ huh?”

“Absolutely,” Hoseok replied, his expression still playful. “And, in some cultures, with how often your tongue’s been in my mouth, we’re practically engaged.”

“Wait, we jumped from dates to being engaged?” she teased, rolling her eyes, though her heart skipped at the word engaged.

“In some cultures,” he replied smoothly, his grin softening. “Which clearly means it’s not too soon for you to come spend the weekend with me—your potential future husband.”

Her laughter faded, replaced by a flicker of nerves and excitement. Potential future husband. The words echoed in her mind, both ridiculous and somehow incredibly sweet. Her heart fluttered, and before she could stop herself, she found herself saying, “Oh hell, Hoseok, who am I to argue with that?”

They ended the call with playful promises, but as she set her phone down, she realized she was pacing her living room, mind whirling with the decision she’d just made. She was going to spend the weekend with Hoseok. At his place.

Was he serious about the ‘practically engaged’ part? She had no idea, but all she could think about was the “naked fun times” he’d hinted at. Her pulse quickened, her skin heating at the memory of their kiss—the way he had touched her, the way she had wanted him.

“Why are you pacing?” Taehyung’s voice broke through her thoughts. He stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

“Just… exercising. Gotta get my steps in,” she lied quickly, definitely not ready to admit the truth—especially not about the “naked fun times.”

Taehyung squinted, clearly unconvinced, but let it go. “Any plans tonight? I thought we could watch Christmas Vacation or something.”

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She’d have to tell him eventually, and maybe sooner was better. Taking a deep breath, she dropped the news as casually as she could. “Actually… I’ll be in Denver this weekend. Hoseok invited me to stay at his place.”

Taehyung’s face lit up with a teasing grin, his eyes sparkling. “Well, well, looks like things are getting serious. Sure you don’t want to stay at my place instead? Save on hotel costs?”

"You mean Jungkook and Blair’s pool house?” Y/N shot back, smirking because she knew exactly what he meant.

“It’s the Tae Cave, don’t you forget it.” Taehyung laughed, and before she knew it, he’d scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing, carrying her toward the front door.

“Put me down, you idiot!” she shrieked, smacking his back while he stumbled onto the lawn.

Taehyung only grinned, unbothered by her protests. “Ji-woo! Y/N agreed to watch the kids tonight!”

From across the lawn, Ji-woo glanced over, giving them both a knowing smile as she tossed a ball to her kids. “Do boys ever grow up?” she asked, her voice full of teasing.

Y/N rolled her eyes, trying not to laugh. “Nope. They’re all Peter Pans at heart.”

Fifteen minutes later, Y/N was back inside, her heart racing with a mix of nerves and excitement as she texted Blair.

Y/N: I’m spending the weekend at Hoseok’s place.

Blair: Girl, you better tap that ass!

Y/N: Well… I think I will.

Blair’s response came back instantly, her enthusiasm practically leaping off the screen.

Blair: YES, finally! Go get it, girl! He’s so into you—I can feel it from here!

Y/N set her phone down, her lips curling into a grin that reached her eyes. The weekend stretched out before her like an open road, brimming with possibilities she hadn’t even dared to dream about. But even as she tried to play it cool, there was a nagging question in the back of her mind: What did this mean for them? Was this just a fun weekend fling, or was the connection between her and Hoseok something deeper?

Meanwhile, Hoseok felt like everything was clicking into place. His coach was over the moon about their playoff win, and on the field, he was playing with a fire he hadn’t felt in years. He could already picture that Super Bowl ring on his finger and the pride shining in Namjoon’s eyes. But there was one hurdle he hadn’t quite cleared—dating Namjoon’s little sister without landing on the wrong side of her brother’s protective instincts. If he could navigate that, the Super Bowl would feel like a stroll in the park.

As for the weekend ahead? Hoseok had a different kind of goal in mind—a personal mission that had nothing to do with football.

The doorman buzzed, signaling his guest’s arrival. Hoseok did a quick sweep of the apartment, making sure everything was in order. Steaks rested on the counter, sweet potatoes were warming in the oven, and a bottle of wine sat ready in case Y/N needed a break from her usual whiskey. A bouquet of red and white flowers added a touch of cozy, holiday cheer—perfect for the night they’d come together to reclaim their Christmas spirit.

Just as the elevator dinged, Hoseok rushed to the door and caught sight of Y/N stepping out. She looked a bit stunned but as beautiful as ever, cheeks flushed from the cold and bundled up in her winter coat.

“You made it,” he grinned, stepping forward to pull her into a hug. Her familiar warmth enveloped him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.

“Blair dropped me off,” she murmured into his shoulder, her arms slipping around his neck. “She had to pick up some paperwork. Apparently, they found proof that Rachel was skimming HOA funds—billing for stuff and pocketing the money. They’re pressing charges. Tiffany was just following her lead, but there’s no evidence she took any of it.” She sighed, pulling back to look him in the eye. “And we stopped by Joon’s place so I could grab my suitcase. But he used it last for that cruise, so I had to get it from him. The cruiser was there, but no one answered the door, and I got worried. He’s not exactly young anymore, and his cholesterol isn’t great…”

Hoseok felt a pang of concern tighten his chest. Gently, he guided her inside, leading her to the living room as he closed the door behind them.

“Is Namjoon okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with worry.

Y/N took a deep breath, her voice flat as she replied, “My brother was having sex with Teagan Carter.” Her words hung in the air, heavy and shocking. “Former Broncos cheerleader Teagan Carter. Blair and I walked in on him… in full doggy style… on the kitchen table where I ate breakfast every day growing up.” Her tone was so deadpan, so matter-of-fact, that Hoseok had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

He’d seen his parents through enough awkward moments to know the trauma, but the image of rule-following Namjoon caught in such an act almost broke his composure. Still, Y/N looked genuinely shaken, so he swallowed his amusement. He wasn’t about to let anything ruin their night.

“Come here, baby,” he murmured, pulling her close and guiding her to the big, squishy sectional in his living room. “Sounds like you could use a strong whiskey.”

He sat her down, brushing a stray hair from her face before heading to the bar. Pouring her a couple of fingers, he handed her the glass, watching as she downed it in one gulp before holding it out for more. He poured a second, and this time, she sipped more slowly.

“Thanks for the flowers,” she said, her voice steadier as she glanced over at the festive bouquet. “And the whiskey.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, feeling a warmth spread through him as he watched her start to relax. “How about we eat in here tonight? I’ve got steaks, sweet potatoes, and creamed southwestern-style corn. We can just sit on the couch, watch something, take it easy. No table, no formality.”

“That sounds perfect,” she said, looking around the room with a small smile, her shoulders finally losing some tension.

“Wait… no Christmas tree?” she teased, glancing back at him with a playful pout.

Hoseok rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I had one, but I forgot to water it, and it pretty much died. Total fire hazard, so I got rid of it.”

Y/N giggled, shaking her head. “What would Arabella say?”

“Oh, she’d fire me on the spot,” he replied with mock horror. “But don’t worry—we’ll go to a Christmas store tomorrow and get a replacement. We’ll decorate it together before my niece disowns me for holiday negligence.”

Her laughter was music to his ears, and he felt the last bit of tension melt away from her body. They ate quickly, the food delicious but secondary to the easy flow of conversation between them. White Christmas played softly in the background, and as Y/N fed him small bites of steak, the air grew charged. Their playful touches lingered, her hand resting on his thigh a little longer than necessary, his fingers brushing against her shoulder as they exchanged knowing glances.

By the time dinner was over, Hoseok felt the pull between them, the simmering desire they both seemed to be tiptoeing around. He’d been trying to take things slow, but it was getting harder to ignore how her body leaned into his, how her eyes traced his mouth like a path she wanted to follow.

“I’m just gonna use the bathroom,” Y/N said, standing up with a soft smile before disappearing down the hall.

Hoseok took the chance to brush his teeth, trying to steady himself, but it all felt oddly… domestic. Sharing a meal, cleaning up, brushing their teeth in the same space like it was the most natural thing in the world. For the first time, it hit him just how right it felt to have her here, in his home. He didn’t know where this was going, but he was sure of one thing: he didn’t want to lose whatever this was.

“Hoseok?” Her voice floated softly down the hall, pulling him from his thoughts. He stepped out of the bathroom to find her standing there, looking at him with a warmth in her eyes that made his chest tighten.

“Sorry, I needed to brush mine too,” he said with a small smile, gesturing behind him toward the bathroom. His heart skipped as she stepped further into his room, her eyes widening as they took in the sight of his massive California king bed.

“That bed is huge!” she exclaimed, her surprise turning into a smile, a playful curiosity dancing in her eyes.

“I’m a big guy. I like lots of room,” he teased, winking in that effortless way that always made her pulse race.

She giggled, but before she could respond, he moved toward her, scooping her up into his arms. She shrieked in laughter, her hands instinctively wrapping around his neck, pulling herself close as her body curled against his.

“Hoseok!” she giggled, her laughter filling the room like music. “What are you doing?”

“Testing out how much room we have,” he quipped, grinning as he carried her toward the bed. He carefully set her down on the soft mattress, her head sinking into the pillow as she giggled, squirming under his playful attack. The sheets were crisp and cool beneath her, and she looked up at him with a mixture of amusement and anticipation.

“Oh, so this is your big plan? Throw me onto your bed and… what? Have a pillow fight?” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

“Not quite,” Hoseok replied, his grin softening as he settled beside her, keeping a little space between them. Propping his head on his arm, he looked at her, his playful expression turning more tender, more serious. “I thought maybe we could just… talk for a bit.”

Her expression shifted, the laughter in her eyes melting into something warmer. “Talk, huh?” she murmured, her voice softening as she turned to face him, the space between them feeling both wide and intimate all at once.

He reached over, brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin. “Yeah… I want to get to know you more,” he admitted, his voice low, like he was letting her in on a secret. “Like… what makes you happy. What you dream about. Stuff like that.”

Her heart melted at his words, and she shifted closer, turning onto her side so that they were face to face, sharing the same pillow. Her fingers traced small circles on the sheet between them, her mind racing with thoughts of how rare it was for someone to want to know her in this way.

“Well,” she began, her voice a little shy but honest, “I’m happiest when I’m with the people I care about—my family, my friends. I love little moments, like baking cookies with Tae or playing board games with my students.” She paused, looking into his eyes with a soft smile. “And… I’ve always dreamed of traveling. I want to see places I’ve only read about. Paris, Rome… maybe even Tokyo.”

“Tokyo, huh?” His eyes lit up as he listened, his hand moving to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. “I’ve been there a few times for games. You’d love it. The city is electric, so full of life. It’s one of those places where you feel like anything’s possible.”

She smiled at the thought, her heart swelling with how easy it was to imagine herself in a place like that—especially with Hoseok by her side.

“What about you?” she asked, curiosity sparking as she looked at him. “What makes you happy?”

His gaze softened, something tender flashing in his eyes. “Honestly?” he began, his voice quiet. “Moments like this. Where everything feels… simple. No pressure, no expectations. Just… being with someone who gets me.” His thumb brushed along her cheek, and he hesitated, as if choosing his next words carefully. “And you make me happy. Just being around you.”

Her breath caught, her chest tightening at the way his words wrapped around her, filling the quiet space between them. His hand lingered on her cheek, his touch warm, and she leaned into it, savoring the moment, the connection.

For a while, neither of them spoke. The world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them wrapped up in the quiet intimacy. She could feel her heart pounding, the tension between them building with each passing second.

Then, without thinking, she reached out, her fingers brushing against his arm, pulling him closer until the space between them disappeared. Their bodies pressed together, the warmth of him surrounding her like a soft blanket.

“I don’t know what it is about you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her gaze lingered on his lips, her own just inches from his. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Hoseok’s eyes darkened, his breath escaping in a soft exhale as he leaned in, closing the gap between them. “I’ve been thinking about you, too,” he whispered, his lips hovering just above hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between.

The kiss that followed was slow at first, deliberate. They savored every second, every gentle brush of their lips, as if the world had paused to let them catch their breath. The tenderness lingered—a kiss that drew them deeper, as though nothing else existed beyond that connection. But tenderness has a way of unraveling, and soon desire took over.

Hoseok’s hand slid to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer as if he could meld them together. Y/N’s hands pressed against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palms. It wasn’t just his heart racing—hers was too. Something raw and wild had ignited between them, like an engine roaring to life, and it was growing.

He shifted, flipping them effortlessly until she was straddling him, their bodies pressing together like they had always belonged this way, like there was never supposed to be any space between them. His hands roamed up her back, fingers sliding beneath her shirt, and Y/N arched into his touch, every nerve in her body coming alive.

She hadn’t realized just how much she wanted this—no, needed this. All the tension, the constant teasing, the slow build—it all came rushing to the surface now, and she couldn’t get enough of him. His lips met hers again, but there was nothing soft about it this time. It was desperate, all-consuming. A firestorm. His tongue parted her lips, tasting her, and Y/N matched his intensity, her hands sliding down his chest, feeling every inch of him beneath his shirt.

Hoseok moved again, laying her back against the bed, positioning himself beside her, his arm holding him up as he gazed down at her. Their legs tangled, and she could feel the warmth of him, the electricity that sparked between them. His hand traced a slow line up her arm, and she instinctively moved closer, pressing her face against his chest, feeling the cool fabric of his shirt against her cheek.

Hoseok’s breath was steady, but there was an undercurrent of something deeper, something intense beneath the surface. He looked down at her, his eyes soft, and for a moment, everything else fell away.

He brought his hand to her cheek, brushing it tenderly before leaning in to kiss her again. But this time, there was no hesitation. His lips claimed hers with a kind of certainty that sent a jolt through her entire being. This was Hoseok—her Hoseok. The realization wrapped around her heart, pulling her in even deeper.

Her fingers clutched at his shirt, pulling him closer, the kiss growing more passionate with each passing second. Every time their lips parted, they found each other again, more intense, more insistent. Y/N’s breath quickened, her pulse racing, her entire world narrowing down to the feel of him—his scent, his warmth, the way his hands moved over her, like he was never going to let her go.

This is Hoseok, her mind whispered, Hoseok holding me, kissing me... Heat pooled low in her belly, her body responding with an urgency that took her breath away. She was hot and aching, and all she could think about was how much she wanted him—how much she needed him.

But then, something shifted inside her. She found herself pulling back, her mind slipping out of the moment. Her lips stilled, and she buried her face against his chest, her breath catching as she tried to steady herself. Hoseok didn’t let go. He kept his arms wrapped around her, strong and steady, his chin resting gently on the top of her head. For a while, they just lay there, breathing together as the soft patter of rain against the window filled the quiet room.

Hoseok pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, lingering there for a moment. Y/N tilted her head up, meeting his gaze. His eyes held a question, one he didn’t need to voice. Do you trust me?

“Yes,” she whispered, the word escaping her before she even realized it. She leaned up, kissing him again, slowly at first, before rolling with him until he was fully over her, his weight pressing her into the mattress. The kiss deepened, turning passionate, their lips moving together in a heated rhythm that made her breath hitch.

Hoseok’s lips left hers, trailing down her neck, soft at first, then more demanding as he reached the curve of her throat. His mouth opened, teeth grazing her skin before biting down gently, and Y/N gasped, her body arching beneath him. A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine, her eyes fluttering closed, her hands tangling in his hair.

His hands moved with purpose, tracing the curves of her waist, sliding up to cup her breast through her shirt. Y/N’s breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, her body responding to every kiss, every touch. His thumb brushed over her nipple, sending a delicious thrill through her, and she moaned, her fingers clutching at his shoulders.

“Hoseok,” she breathed, her voice thick with longing.

He didn’t stop, his lips moving lower, kissing along her collarbone, down to her stomach as he pushed her shirt up, revealing more of her skin with each kiss. Y/N’s heart pounded, her mind spinning as his touch ignited every inch of her. The air between them buzzed, electric, and all she could think was how much she needed him—how much she wanted him.

And when his hand slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, finding her warm and wet, Y/N’s mind went blank. Her world narrowed down to the sensation, the overwhelming pleasure as his fingers moved over her, teasing, exploring, drawing her higher and higher.

Her breath hitched, her body arching into his touch, her hands fisting the sheets as she lost herself to the storm of desire he’d stirred in her. She couldn’t think—only feel, as Hoseok took her further, his mouth and hands working in perfect sync to unravel her completely.

Hoseok’s breath came in short, shallow bursts, his focus entirely on her, on the way she responded to his touch. His mouth found her neck, lips warm and insistent, kissing and nipping in a way that bordered on torturous. Each kiss was like a spark, igniting something deep inside her, making her legs tremble.

She felt herself teetering on the edge, her body trembling, her breath coming in short gasps. Hoseok’s mouth moved with purpose, and then, with a final flick of his tongue, Y/N’s world shattered. Her body convulsed, pleasure rippling through her in waves, and she cried out, her mind blank, her entire being consumed by the sensation.

“Hoseok!” she screamed, her voice raw, as she came apart beneath him.

The aftershocks left her body trembling, her breath uneven, her heart pounding in her chest. When she finally opened her eyes, Hoseok was still there, his lips leaving gentle kisses as if savoring every last bit of her. She reached down, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

“Hoseok…” she whispered, her voice weak, and he looked up, his eyes meeting hers, dark and filled with something she couldn’t quite name.

He moved up, capturing her lips in a slow, lingering kiss, his hand still on her, his fingers stroking her gently. She sighed into the kiss, her body relaxing beneath him, the warmth of him filling her.

“No rest?” she murmured against his lips, her voice thick with exhaustion and desire.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes softening. “We’re slowing down,” he promised, his voice a husky whisper. There was something in the way he said it—an intimacy, a reassurance—that made her heart swell. It was a promise, but it was also a temptation, one she wasn’t sure she could resist.

She kissed him again, her lips seeking his in a slow, sensual dance. Hoseok’s fingers continued their gentle exploration, his touch grounding her, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile against his mouth. She didn’t know where this was going, what would happen next, but right now—right here in his arms—it felt like everything was exactly as it was meant to be.

Her hands moved down, brushing against the undone buckle of his belt, her fingers slipping inside and finding him hard, throbbing with anticipation. Wrapping her hand around him, she began to stroke, her movements deliberate, matching the slow, sensual rhythm of his fingers as he moved against her. She could feel him growing even harder beneath her touch, the heat between them building with every second.

Hoseok stilled, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. Together, they moved in a slow, building rhythm, heat flooding through her all over again, setting every inch of her on fire.

And then his pace slowed, the movement growing almost imperceptibly gradual. Y/N opened her eyes, questioning, as Hoseok shifted beneath her. His arm slid under her back with a fluid grace, holding her close as he gave one last deliberate thrust. Then, without a word, he carefully rolled them both until she was on top, straddling him, her legs trembling as she adjusted to the new position.

Y/N hovered above him, her breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts as she lay against his chest. She could feel the tip of him brushing against her, an aching reminder of how full he had made her feel just moments before. Lifting her gaze, her eyes met Hoseok's, and for a moment, they were simply lost in each other. There was an unspoken understanding, a silent agreement forged from shared intensity and want.

It felt like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only this—the warmth of his skin, the beat of his heart, the rhythmic pulse of their bodies.

Y/N took a deep breath, pushing herself upright, her hands bracing against his chest. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, achingly slow, until she could feel every inch of him stretching her, filling her completely. A groan escaped her lips, her eyelids fluttering shut as her body adjusted to the overwhelming sensation. She stayed still for a moment, savoring the feeling of him inside her, the way their bodies seemed to mold together perfectly, the way her skin burned from the intimate contact.

Hoseok's hands rested on her hips, his fingers tracing the soft skin there in slow, gentle strokes, guiding without forcing. "Y/N, move with me," he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a quiet kind of intensity.

She nodded, her lips parting as she exhaled shakily. She lifted herself just a little before sliding back down, the friction sending a wave of warmth through her, radiating from where they were joined and traveling through her entire body.

"A little more," Hoseok instructed, his voice a low hum, his hands on her hips gently guiding her. She complied, shifting her position until she felt the angle change, the pressure heightening. "Now tilt forward," he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

She did, and when she lifted herself again, the movement sent shockwaves through her, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. She gasped, her thighs shaking as she sank back down, the sensation almost too much to bear.

"Again, Y/N," Hoseok urged, his voice rough with need now, his hands steady on her hips, encouraging but never controlling.

She lifted herself again, her pace picking up, her breath catching in her throat as the friction intensified. Each time she came down onto him, it hit just right, the pressure building inside her like a storm about to break.

"Hoseok," she moaned, her voice raw, her movements becoming more desperate. "I can't—"

"You can," he murmured, his hands tightening just enough to guide her, to keep her steady. "I'm here. You can."

His words were like fuel to the fire burning inside her, and Y/N couldn't stop now. She couldn't hold back, couldn't control the way her body moved, the rhythm growing faster, more frantic. Hoseok's hips met hers with every movement, the sensation driving her closer to the edge.

"Hoseok," she gasped, her voice breaking as the pleasure grew overwhelming. "I don't know—"

"You can," he repeated, his voice filled with heat but also with a steadiness that anchored her. "I'm right here with you. Take me."

And she did. Y/N let herself go, the rhythm spiraling faster, the friction building to an unbearable peak. She focused on the way it felt—the way his body moved beneath hers, filling her again and again, the way their connection sparked like a live wire. Her cries grew louder, mingling with Hoseok's deep, guttural moans, his name falling from her lips like a desperate prayer as she gave herself over completely to the raw, consuming pleasure.

The pressure inside her finally burst, sending her over the edge, her body convulsing with each wave of release. She collapsed onto Hoseok, her face pressing into the crook of his neck, her breath coming in short, broken gasps.

Hoseok held her close, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back, his lips pressing soft kisses to her hair as her body trembled against him. Slowly, gently, he shifted them, rolling onto their sides so she was cradled against him, her legs still tangled with his.

Y/N felt exhaustion wash over her, her eyes heavy, her mind hazy with the aftershocks of what had just happened. She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his, and there was something in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat—something tender, something achingly real.

Hoseok leaned down, brushing a kiss against her forehead, his breath warm on her skin as he whispered, "You're beautiful, Y/N."

A soft sigh escaped her lips, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions she couldn't quite put into words. And as sleep began to pull her under, the last thing she felt was Hoseok's heartbeat beneath her cheek, steady and comforting, lulling her into the quiet darkness.

Hoseok and Y/N found themselves wandering the brightly lit aisles of a 24-hour Christmas shop at two in the morning, after indulging in a couple more rounds of "naked fun time" and catching a nap. Now, they were doing something a little more wholesome—shopping for a Christmas tree. The soft glow of twinkling lights and the faint hum of Christmas music set the mood, but the intimacy between them lingered, electric and unmistakable.

"What did I tell you about shoving that tongue of yours in my mouth, baby?" Hoseok teased, his hand wrapped warmly around hers as they strolled side by side. His voice was playful, but the undercurrent of attraction that simmered between them hadn’t dissipated from earlier.

Y/N gave him a sidelong glance, feigning innocence as she inspected an eight-foot artificial tree in front of her. It was lush, full, and pre-lit—perfect for his apartment. But the price tag gave her pause. "Hoseok, we’re in public. We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile," she replied, her lips quirking into a smirk. "I’m not going to shove my tongue down your throat, no matter how hot you look right now."

He laughed, a deep, rich sound that made her heart skip a beat. "It’s two in the morning," he countered, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned in close enough that his breath tickled her ear. "The only people here are two cashiers who aren’t paying attention, and that guy over there who looks like he’s about to have a mental breakdown over the stocking selection."

Y/N slapped his hand playfully as it ventured toward her butt, but couldn’t help laughing herself. Hoseok always had a way of making everything fun. "Behave," she teased, trying to regain some control. "Let’s just get the tree and grab something to eat. If you’re a good boy," she added, her voice dropping suggestively, "maybe I’ll reward you when we get back to your place. But right now, my kitty is a little sore."

Immediately, the playful grin on Hoseok’s face softened into concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes darting down to her lower half as if he could somehow diagnose her pain through her clothes.

Y/N giggled, touched by his genuine worry. "I’m fine," she assured him, brushing a hand over his chest. "I just need a little break before that big boy of yours comes back to play."

Relief washed over his features, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead, his hand slipping around her waist to pull her closer. "Then let’s get this tree," he said, his voice back to its playful cadence as he grabbed the massive $400 pre-lit tree without hesitation and dropped it into their cart. Y/N’s eyes widened at the ease with which he tossed the tree around like it weighed nothing. She reminded herself that Hoseok’s salary as a professional quarterback meant this was pocket change to him.

They continued through the store, picking out ornaments, stockings, and other holiday decorations to transform Hoseok’s apartment into a Christmas wonderland. As they turned down another aisle, Hoseok spotted a giant blow-up Rudolph tucked away in a corner, probably set aside by another shopper. But Hoseok didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the blow-up with a triumphant grin.

"Think Arabella will like this?" he asked, holding it up for Y/N’s inspection.

"She’s going to love it!" Y/N squealed, doing a little happy dance in the aisle. "It’ll look perfect next to her Santa."

They made their way toward the checkout, their cart brimming with holiday cheer. Just as they approached the register, a young employee walked up to them, his eyes wide with disbelief as he recognized Hoseok.

"Dude, you’re Hoseok Jung," the kid—Fraser—breathed, looking like he was about to faint from excitement.

Hoseok smiled warmly, always gracious with fans. "Hey, Fraser," he greeted. "Can we keep this low-key? My girl and I are just trying to shop without causing a scene."

Fraser nodded eagerly, his awe palpable. "No problem, man. But my dad is a huge fan—he’s never going to believe I met you."

Without missing a beat, Y/N stepped in with a solution. "Why don’t you FaceTime him? Hoseok can say hi. Consider it an early Christmas present."

Fraser’s face lit up, and a moment later, he was dialing his dad on video. Hoseok chatted with the man for a few minutes, making his night, while Y/N watched with a smile, admiring how effortlessly charming he was with everyone. By the time they left the store, Fraser had applied his employee discount, and they left with their cartful of holiday magic.

Back at Hoseok’s sleek, modern apartment, they set up the tree and decorated it with the ornaments they had bought. The space soon took on a warm, festive glow as they adorned every inch with twinkling lights and garland. Y/N was sore, her body reminding her of their earlier escapades, so she popped a couple of Advil and leaned into the cozy domesticity of the moment. They scrambled eggs and made toast in the kitchen afterward, sharing quiet, comfortable laughter while Hoseok, in nothing but sweatpants, danced around the room like a man without a care in the world.

After their impromptu breakfast, they decided to take a long soak in Hoseok’s luxurious jetted tub. The hot water soothed Y/N’s aching muscles, and she leaned back, watching the steam rise as she sipped a glass of wine. Hoseok was beside her, his arm resting casually along the edge of the tub, and they talked quietly, the sound of the water bubbling around them.

"This bathroom is a whole spa," Y/N sighed contentedly. "I could live here."

"Good," Hoseok teased, "because you’re not allowed to leave."

They shared a soft laugh before falling into a companionable silence, the kind that comes when two people are perfectly in sync. Y/N closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of the water and the presence of the man beside her. She hadn’t realized how deeply she was falling for him, but it was moments like these—simple, quiet, intimate—that made her heart swell.

Later, feeling completely relaxed and refreshed, Y/N found herself back in Hoseok’s bedroom. She playfully pushed him onto the bed, his towel falling away as she crawled over him. The night had been a blur of laughter, shared glances, and stolen kisses, but now there was a different energy between them—one that simmered with anticipation. She kissed him deeply, her hands roaming over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath her fingertips.

Hoseok’s hands found their way to her hips, gripping her gently as she straddled him, her body moving in perfect sync with his. They had started the night in celebration, but as their lips met again and again, it became clear that they weren’t quite finished celebrating. Their connection deepened, and before long, Y/N had lost count of the number of times Hoseok had brought her to the brink of ecstasy.

As they lay tangled in the sheets afterward, Y/N rested her head on Hoseok’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this content, this safe, this utterly fulfilled. She glanced up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at her with a smile that was equal parts satisfaction and affection.

"Do you think Arabella will notice if we sleep all day tomorrow?" Y/N whispered with a playful grin.

Hoseok laughed softly, kissing the top of her head. "I think she’ll notice, but maybe I can bribe her with that giant Rudolph."

Y/N giggled, snuggling closer to him. "Best bribe ever."

They drifted off to sleep, the glow of the Christmas tree casting a soft light over the room, the warmth of their shared moments wrapping around them like a blanket.

Christmas morning dawned with a soft blanket of snow covering the streets, casting everything in a serene, white glow. Y/N pulled on her favorite holiday pajamas—flannel with tiny reindeer printed all over them—and headed downstairs to the kitchen where the smell of cinnamon and freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Hoseok was already up, standing by the stove, looking impossibly handsome even in the early morning light. He wore a red sweater with a goofy snowman on it, his hair still a bit tousled from sleep.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he greeted her, his voice warm and affectionate as he turned away from the stove to plant a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Merry Christmas," Y/N murmured, leaning into him for a moment before glancing at the counter, where several plates of pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs were laid out. "You made all this?"

"I figured I’d spoil you a little this morning," Hoseok said with a grin, flipping a pancake effortlessly in the air. "But don’t get used to it—this is a special occasion."

Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist as he cooked. She loved moments like this, where everything felt simple and perfect. "Thank you," she whispered, feeling the warmth of his body against hers.

After breakfast, they exchanged their first Christmas presents together. Y/N, trying not to look too giddy, handed Hoseok a neatly wrapped box. He eyed it curiously before tearing off the paper to reveal a chunky knit sweater, soft and charcoal gray.

"I noticed you didn’t have any sweaters that weren’t Christmas-themed," Y/N teased, watching his expression as he held the sweater up for inspection. "Figured you needed one for, you know, normal winter days."

Hoseok grinned, running his fingers over the fabric. "I love it," he said, immediately pulling it over his head, the sweater fitting perfectly over his broad shoulders. "How do I look?"

"Ridiculously good, as usual," Y/N said, laughing as he struck a pose, exaggerating his movements like a runway model. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," he replied, leaning in to kiss her softly. Then, with a mischievous smile, he handed her a wrapped box of his own. "Your turn."

Y/N unwrapped it carefully, the paper revealing a set of beautifully arranged classroom supplies—new whiteboards, markers, and a sleek, high-quality planner. She looked up at Hoseok, her heart swelling at the thoughtfulness of the gift. "You… you remembered I needed these?"

"Of course I did," Hoseok said, his smile softening. "You mentioned it once, a few weeks ago, about how some of your supplies were old or worn out. I figured your students deserve the best, and so do you."

Y/N felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. It was such a small thing, but the fact that he’d remembered and gone out of his way to get her something so practical, something that would make her job easier, made her feel incredibly loved. "Thank you," she whispered, hugging him tightly. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Hey, I just want to make sure you’re ready to shape young minds," Hoseok teased, but there was a sincerity in his voice that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

By mid-morning, they were bundled up and heading over to Ji-woo’s house for the family Christmas party. Hoseok carried a bag full of presents for his niece and nephew while Y/N held a tray of cookies she’d baked the night before.

Ji-woo’s house was buzzing with life when they arrived. The sound of children laughing, holiday music playing, and the smell of roasting turkey greeted them as soon as they walked through the door. Arabella came running up to Hoseok, her face lighting up when she saw him.

"Uncle Hobi!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his waist. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Arabella," Hoseok said, scooping her up into his arms and spinning her around as she giggled. "I’ve got a surprise for you!"

Arabella’s eyes widened with excitement as Hoseok set her down and pulled out the giant inflatable Rudolph from the bag. Her squeals of delight filled the room as she hugged the blow-up reindeer tightly.

"I knew it! I knew you’d bring Rudolph!" she beamed, her joy infectious.

In the living room, Ji-woo was busy setting up the table, her smile bright and welcoming. "Merry Christmas, you two!" she called out, walking over to hug them both. "You’re just in time. Maxwell’s been asking when Uncle Hobi’s going to get here so he can open his gifts."

"And I brought something extra this year," Y/N said with a grin, handing over the tray of cookies. "Hope the kids like them."

"I’m sure they will," Ji-woo laughed, taking the cookies and placing them on the table beside an array of other desserts.

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of laughter, food, and family. Taehyung and Jungkook arrived soon after, arms full of more gifts and treats. Namjoon showed up in his full police uniform, fresh from his morning shift, with his usual calm smile and a bag of baked goods he claimed were homemade (but Y/N knew they were store-bought).

After opening presents, everyone settled around the fireplace, sipping hot chocolate while Maxwell and Arabella played with their new toys. Y/N sat beside Hoseok on the couch, leaning her head on his shoulder, feeling completely content. The warmth of the fire, the sound of everyone laughing and talking, the smell of pine from the Christmas tree—it was everything she could’ve asked for.

Hoseok wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. "This is nice," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.

"Yeah, it is," Y/N murmured, closing her eyes and letting the moment wash over her.

They stayed like that for a while, basking in the simplicity of the holiday, surrounded by the people they cared about most. And as the snow continued to fall softly outside, Y/N couldn’t help but think that this was exactly what Christmas was supposed to feel like—full of love, laughter, and the quiet moments that made everything else seem perfect.

As the day wound down, and the fire began to flicker low, Hoseok leaned over and kissed Y/N’s temple, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for being here with me."

Y/N smiled, feeling the weight of his words settle in her chest like a warm blanket. "I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else."

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[elainsgirl]

if anything, nesta and cassian gave "just lust" more than azriel and elain but nobody says nothing about that. acosf was a porn book, im sorry. the end was the only good part.

Hey anon 🫶

🗣️ SPEAK ON IT 🗣️

Literally majority of acosf was just Nesta and Cass doing each other. I distinctly also remember Feyre and Rhys agreeing to a physical only relationship for a bit of acomaf. No where in Acosf do we see Cassian planning a future with Nesta. Yet they want to hate on Azriel - someone who feels unworthy and at that point, didn’t even know if Elain wanted him the way he wanted her - for not planning some elaborate future with Elain? Make it make sense - wait you can’t because once again, this just proves anti-elriel arguements do not make sense and can be so easily disproven.

What I find ironic - Antis love calling Azriel entitled for simply questioning why Elain and Lucien are mates which in itself is not even entitlement but whatever, yet they wanted him to have planned out an entire life with Elain, without her imput or even knowing if she likes him back. And if he had done so… it would have made him…entitled. They are no were near consistent with their arguments. How tf are they criticising him for one thing yet want him to do said thing to prove he has “deep” feelings for Elain ?

“its just lust” - if that was the case, they would have already had a relationship. What was stopping them? After all its just superficial lust. They wouldn’t have cared about the consequences or beaking apart as their relationship wouldn’t have been deep enough for either of them. And this whole lust arguement makes Az seem stupid - which he isn’t. Do they really think he would risk losing Lucien as an ally or have a bloodduel initiated, just bcs he wants to do Elain? He moved on from Mor after 500 years just bcs he now wants Elain? Who he didn’t even know wanted him back *that* way yet was still falling for her? If you actually think logically, it makes 0 sense.

God forbid that man wanting to beg on his knees for Elain. Antis act as though its such a heinous crime. “We wanted to see Az care about Elain!” Then go reread the books. The bonus was there to mirror Wings & Ember, proof Az and Elain are attracted to each other the way all romance couples should be. But then again what would antis know about the characters in a ship actually wanting each other physically?

This is a NA series. You will get explicit thoughts from each character. If you can’t handle that, then maybe the spin-offs aren’t for you. Antis purposely act as though the bonus is the only elriel moment we have. They’ve based elriel entirely on the bonus instead of the books + bonus, and I get why they do it. If they admit elriel have had caring moments pre-acosf then their entire foundation for not supporting elriel falls down.

every single anti arguement unravels so easily when you just apply basic common sense and logic to it.

[spiderb00]

IS IT NEW YEARS YET

Megan Skiendiel X Reader

"After your ex broke up with you a month before Christmas, you lost your holiday mojo. Maybe you just needed to meet new people, a specific redheaded girl” 

Genre – fluff   Warnings – none  fruitcake masterlist

Now playing – Is it new years yet, by Sabrina Carpenter 

The feeling of impostor settled in you, as soon as you passed through the door of Lara's house you felt uncomfortable, strange with the environment. Being without the company of your ex girlfriend at parties like this made you feel awkward and out of place. You were never a very sociable person, of course, you were never rude, you just didn't like to leave the house so much. Whether you wanted to or not, your ex had helped with your shyness, always dragging you everywhere, but now, without her, you felt a little lost in the midst of people.  

Lara was throwing a party, a small meeting. The commemorative dates were approaching and any excuse for a party was enough for Lara. You and the Indian girl knew each other for a long time, even before she went to Dream Academy, or bonded as Katseye's lead vocalist. Your friendship with Lara has always been strong, you have always supported the girl in everything, while she did the same with you.   

When Lara found out about your breakup, she comforted and supported you, as always. She let you have your sad moment, but after a month, the girl did everything to take your mind off the girl who broke your heart before Christmas. When Lara called you to the party, you quickly tried to refuse, making up any excuse not to leave the house. But, when you saw that the red-haired girl wasn't going to give up, you agreed to go.  

And now here you are, a plastic cup with energy drink in your right hand, as you sit in one of the chairs outside Lara's house. You knew most of the people at the party, all mutual friends of yours and Lara's, but after a while of talking and laughing, you decided it was time to be alone for a while, just you and your thoughts. Taking the lighter out of your back pocket, you were about to light a cigarette – one of the habits you picked up after the breakup – when someone approached you.   

"Hi, do you mind if I sit down? There's a lot of noise inside." Asked a girl, she had red hair and was tall, not as tall as you.  

"No, okay, go ahead." You said, putting away the cigarette and lighter before settling back into the chair.   

Looking at the girl better, you could finally tell why she looked so familiar. It was Megan, Lara's bandmate. You haven't met all the Kats yet, but you surely recognize them from promotional videos, music videos, and in general. You thought the Chinese girl was beautiful, and you didn't think she could be even more beautiful in person. 

"I'm Megan." The red-haired girl said, a faint smile on her face as she waited for you to introduce yourself.   

"I know, I mean, I recognized you. I am Yn." You said, fumbling a little with the words. 

"Oh, sure. You are Lara's best friend. She talks a lot about you." Megan says. "It's good to finally put a face to the name."   

Laughing lightly, you nod. The night was quiet and although you wanted to be alone, the redhead's company was not bad.   

"So why are you out here instead of enjoying the party inside?" The redhead asks, settling in the chair and looking directly at your face.  

"Well, I could ask you the same question..." You say, making the girl laugh lightly. "Well, but I'm just here to clear my mind, you know."  

"Oh, I get it, a lot of people also make me a little overstimulated." Megan says, nodding in understanding.   

"Really?" You ask, the conversation flowing naturally. "How do you work? Why, you know... You kind of have to deal with a lot of people. Sorry if this is invasive..." You say, genuinely interested in Megan's words.  

"It's not invasive." The girl says, laughing lightly at your concern. "I think I just got used to it, I love what I do, so it kind of becomes natural after a few years." She says, fiddling with the rings that were on her hand. "But I always have time for myself, and it's always nice to have someone who's always with you. The girls are my second family." Megan said. You noticed that the redhead's nose started to turn red, because of the cold. 

"You seem very passionate when you talk about all this-" Interrupting your speech, a couple walks past you and Megan, both of them making out. As the guy sat in the chair next to you and the redhead, the girl he was kissing climbed onto his lap, leaving you and Megan dumbfounded.   

"Is this serious?" Megan asked, as you stood up, holding out her hand to the shorter girl.  

"Come on, I don't think these idiots are going to leave anyway." Standing up, Megan took your hand in hers, letting you guide her to the back door of the house.  

"I think we'd better come in, Lara must be looking for us and you're shivering with cold." You said, taking off your jacket and putting it on the shoulders of the shorter girl. "Here, you can take that." 

As you adjusted the jacket to Megan's shoulders, the redhead admired your face. Megan already knew who you were, in fact, she always asked Lara to introduce you to her, but that never really happened. Now, with you here in front of her, she couldn't miss the chance to make the move.  

"Thank you, that's very sweet of you." Megan said, the jacket hanging loosely from her shoulders, extending to the middle of her thighs.   

You and Megan finally entered the house, people talked, drank and others kissed in the corners, it felt more like a fraternity party than a Christmas Eve party.   

"Megaann! I looked for you everywhere." A slightly drunk Daniela bumped into you, making you hold her by the waist.  

"My God Dani, how much did you drink?" Megan said, approaching the Latina and checking if everything was okay with her.   

"Yes, it's me-"   

"Shiiiu, don't tell Megan I said that, but she's very into you." The Latina spoke, after interrupting you by placing her index finger on your lips.   

"DANI!" Megan screamed, taking the girl from your arms and trying to walk her out of the house.  

"Bye, Yn. Thank you for keeping me company, we're going." Megan said, trying to save herself from the embarrassment Daniela had caused her.  

"Wait a minute, how are you going to take her like this." You said, holding the other side of Daniela as you walked with Megan.  

"It's okay, I'll order an Uber or something."  

"Let me take you." You said, making the girl hesitate. "Please, it's dangerous, let me help."   

When Megan finally agreed, you helped her put Dani in the back seat of your car, starting and then driving to the Kats' house. When you finally got there, you both started struggling to get Daniela to bed, since the Latina hadn't made the work of the two of you any easier.  

"Dani, you have to get out of the car." Megan said, pulling the blonde's arm as she held firmly in the passenger seat.   

"NO, I want to stay longer and talk to Yn." Daniela said, pouting and getting a laugh from you.  

Getting out of the car, you turned around and stood next to Megan, who was still clutching Daniela's right arm.   

"Dani, I'm here. You can get out of the car and talk to me." You said, as the blonde looked in your direction and gave you a drunken smile. 

"YN! My friend, Yn." The Latina jumped out of the car, leaning on you as she staggered towards the entrance of the house, causing Megan to roll her eyes and close the door of your car.  

 "Has Megan ever kissed you or what?" The Latina spoke directly to you.  

"DANI! Be quiet, please." Megan spoke, fumbling with the keys to the front of the house.  

When she finally managed to open the door, you helped the girl in. Daniela threw herself on the couch quickly, laughing lightly and closing her eyes soon after, not before singing a little to you and the redhead next to you.  

"Yn and Megan, under a tree, kissing, la la la la la la." 

Rolling her eyes, Megan watched the Latina fall asleep as fast as she had gotten drunk, and you thought that was your cue to go home, so you headed towards your car.   

"Thank you for everything." Megan said, crossing her arms and hugging your jacket, which was still wrapped around her.   

"It was nothing, if you need it, you know where to find me." You said, leaning against your car, and hesitating a few seconds before continuing. "So, is it true?"  

"What is truth?" Megan's face became slightly confused.  

"What Daniela said. You know what they say, drunks always say what they wanted to say sober." You said, getting a little closer to the redhead. 

Biting her lip nervously, Megan looks down at the floor, before turning her gaze back to you again.   

"What would you do if you were?" Megan asked, coming closer to you.  

Laughing lightly, you pulled a strand of Megan's hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.  

"You can return my jacket tomorrow night when I come by and take you on a date." You say, a smile painting your lips.  

"yes, I think it can work." Megan said, returning your smile.  

"Of course. It's not New Year's yet, we have plenty of time." 

Hi guys, penultimate chapter of Fruitcake, I'm loving this series, but I really want it to end lol.

The truth is that I want to start finalizing and posting your requests, but things will work out

I haven't proofread it yet, so there may be some mistakes, I'm very tired bc my family is in my house.

xoxo, spider.

[nomoreusername]

A Perfect Pair

Pairing:Minho x female reader

Summary:Even though all he wants is you, Minho realizes how much trust rumors can hold.

“You two have so much in common.”

It was a phrase you heard far too often. It was one you rolled your eyes at every time too. You and Minho? Seriously?

His arms crossed over his chest, a flash of jealousy shining in them before just vanishing, being replaced with a deep sadness. Because he already knew what came next.

“It’s not like that,”You insisted, staring at the ground to hide your smile.

A/K was your perfect match. You both worked the same job, seemed to like most of the same things, had the same beliefs, the same humor, the same everything. You two were like puzzle pieces that were made to be.

Minho wanted to scream. He wanted to point out that it puzzle pieces are the same shape they have no chance of fitting. He wouldn't to tell everyone it wasn't fair.

He didn't. He sat there, staring down at his drink. Needing it, he chugged the rest of it down, a sour expression on his face.

“Oh come on. You’d be so cute together. Right, Minho?”

Minho was sure the universe wanted him dead. While he knew the reason was that he was closest, it seemed like taunting. Surely it was a cruel, cruel joke.

“Yeah. They’d go alright together,”He shrugged. Your face flushed as you met A/K’s. He was biting his lip to hold back his smile too, both your eyes gaining this glint that twisted his stomach in knots.

Thomas and Newt exchanged a worried glance before looking at Minho. His face was neutral, no sign of his heart breaking in his chest.

“You two will be together one day for sure. The perfect boyfriend and girlfriend.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m heading to bed,”You siged, rolling your eyes and standing up, brushing off your pants.

“Oh come on. It's early,”Fry complained.

“Yeah. And I already want away from you shanks,”You said simply, walking off.

Minho stood, calmly making his way to his hammock. He glared at the ground as though it spit on him. Something it was so hard not to do the more he heard those words.

Thomas and Newt also left without a word, their concern only growing. Jogging over, they caught up with him not too far away.

“Minho, wait a second,”Thomas called, placing a hand on his chest as he caught up. Minho resisted the urge to shout at them to leave them alone as he sharply asked what they needed, clearly just wanting to get to the point.

“It's just we've been thinking, and it doesn't have to make sense, right?”

“What are you talking about?”He asked, sure they were the ones speaking gibberish.

“Y/N smiles when someone teases her, but that doesn't mean it's true. People smile all the time when they're embarrassed,”Newt pointed out.

A hint of skeptical shown, his interest clearly peaked.

“They're not together. So what if it's that?”Thomas continued.

A trickle is disappoint when through him, along with fear.

“What if that doesn't mean anything?”He whispered.

“What if it means everything? What if you confess and she feels it too?”Newt pushed.

“You really think she could?”

“Only one way to find out. Right?”

Minho didn't say a word as he left the other direction this time. At each step he found a nervous grin crossing his lips as he thought about the possibilities. You could feel the same. You two could be something. You two could be great together.

You two could be the perfect match.

Almost running now, he found himself in front of your hut. Too eager at the thought of his dreams coming true, he didn't think as he swung the door open, ready to proclaim his love.

He was met with a sight that made him sick to his stomach. One that he would never recover from.

You were in A/K’s lap as he sat on your bed, both your lips pressed firmly together. His hands were around your waist, traveling under your shirt, as you kissed with an undeniable passion. You had your arms wrapped around his shoulders, keeping him close.

Of course you and A/K were cute together. Of course you fit so well.

You already are.

You both pulled apart, your faces flushing in embarrassment as he stood there, paling under the moonlight.

“Please don't tell anyone?”

“I’m-I’m sorry.”

His voice cracked as he shut the door. Refusing to let his tears spill, he did his best to swallow the lump in his throat as he wished to just disappear.

He’s so stupid. He’s such an idiot for ever thinking he had a chance.

He never wanted to see you again. The chances of breaking were too likely.

Yet he would see you and A/K tomorrow, whether he liked it or not.

[little-miss-fandom-freak]

Bad Chemistry

Summary: A new inmate has arrived and joins Task Force M on their mission; everythung about this new member confuses, yet intruiges Dr Phosphorus and is determined to find out why

A/N: Idk if I want to make this an X Reader or a Canon X OC so I'm leaving it up to interpretation for now :)

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Flag watched as his new "team" hit the floor from an electric shock, directly admitted from a device Waller held. "Meet Task Force M; 'M' for Monster. Also known as the Creature Commandos. " Waller said as she tossed Flag the device. She walked out of the room with him trailing behind. "There is one more member who will be arriving shortly."

"Arriving? Why aren't they in Belle Reve with the others?" He asked as he pocketed the device.

"Let's just say The Batman and I had a long chat before I had to agreed to keep her in Arkham." Waller and Flag stopped in front of a glass wall; behind the wall was a pair of doors that slid open. An unconscious woman on a dolly was pushed into the room. Flag watched as a doctor with surgical gloves came out from behind her with a large needle in hand. He peeled back her eye light and injected its contents into her eye. Flag cringed as the woman - now conscious - screamed in pain.

Waller spoke over the cries. "Meet Android 10; or as the Joker called her, The Ten of Spades."

"Wait, The Joker?"

Waller nodded. "Joker wanted a group of Androids who would do his dirty work. 20 Androids were created, only 5 made the cut for his "Royal Flush Gang". Each one was built with a different set of abilities. Ten was given super strength, intelligence, and aviation."

"A real triple threat, huh?"

"Indeed." Replied Waller. "It's taken me years to convince Batman to take her to Belle Reve, so use her wisely Flag."

The two watched in silence as Ten regained her composure. As she stood up, her piercing red eyes glared into Flag's. Her eye was red and tear-filled from the shot, and there was nothing but hate and anger behind them.

"Good afternoon, Ten. My name is Amanda Waller. Welcome to Belle Reve."

Ten charged at the glass, slamming her fist against it. "I demand to speak with Batman. I demand to know why I'm here."

"That's a lot of demanding for someone trapped in a cage. Unfortunately for you, he's not here. And you won't get to speak to him again unless you comply." Ten's teeth grinded as she kept her glare on Waller; when she realized the woman wouldn't back down, she sighed.

"What do you want from me?"

"That is on a need to know basis. And all you need to know for now is that you'll be taking orders from General Rick Flag Sr." Waller said, gesturing to the man beside her.

Ten crossed her arms as she examined Flag. Her face read that she was unimpressed when she scoffed. "Emphasis on the 'senior' bit." She mumbled.

Flag let out a sharp chuckle. "Real spit fire, isn't she?"

"Ten, for this mission, I will need you to play nice with your new teammates. We don't want a repeat of the last time." Flag watched as Ten's cocky, confident demeanor shift for a split second. Her eyes flickered down before meeting Waller's once more.

"So, when do I meet me new team?"

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

When the rest of the team emerged from their cells and out to the landing pad, a few of them were puzzled by the woman standing beside Waller and Flag.

Waller greeted the group as they stood in frontof her. "Task Force M, I'd like for you all to meet your new teammate, Android 10."

Ten took notice of their unimpressed looks, but in her opinion, they weren't anything special either.

"Do we really need another member?" The Bride complained. "There's already enough brainless fools on this team.

"I can assure you Bride, this one is anything but brainless." Waller spoke as she walked away from the team. "General Flag will give you the run down before you enter Pokolistan."

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

Phosphorus didn't know what to think of the new girl.

Taking subtle glances at the robotic woman beside him (one of the few times he was thankful for not having actual eyeballs), he tried to get a read on her. She kept to herself; avoiding the banter the rest of the team shared and ignored any and all questions or comments directed at her. He tried taking glances at her exposed skin, trying to find the creases in her joints or the screws that would keep her together, but he found nothing.

Phosphorus had let himself get too wrapped up in his thoughts; his head turning half of an inch too much, caused Ten to take notice. She turned her head, making deep eye contact with the skeleton beside her.

"Got something to say, Skelator?" Her voice rumbled in his ears. He was taken back by her sudden question, but like always he doesn't stay shocked for long.

"I was just thinking." He said, keeping her in suspense.

"About?"

He paused for a moment, deciding if he really wanted to known. "What's so special about you that they kept you out of Belle Reve?"

Ten looked away, bringing her attention back to her boots. "That's none of your concern." She said quietly.

"I think it is." He said, leaning back. "We are a team after all; how am I supposed to trust you if I don't know you?"

"The only thing you need to know, is that I won't kill you simply because there's a shock chip in my brain that I'd rather not trigger."

Before Phosphorus could continue to pry, Flag addressed the group.

"Now look team, I know you all aren't exactly enthusiastic about this mission," he started. The Bride and Ten rolled their eyes in unison." But-"

"General I think you've read us wrong." Phosphorus cut in. "We're delighted to be here and delighted to serve our country."

"Are you smiling?" The bride asked quizzically. Phosphorus hummed with acknowledgment. "Sarcastically?" "Yeah." He said with a shrug. Ten scoffed at his childish behavior, but Phosphorus took it as a chuckle, which boosted his ego a tad.

Ten blocked out the rest of the conversations, just wanting this mission to end already so she can get back to her lovely cell back in Arkham. A place that would drive most people insane, acrually brought her a sense of peace. The isolation from people was just what sher needed, especially since her life has been nothing but chaos sinc ethe day she woke up. But her cell wasn't the only thing about Arkham she missed...

The shake of the plane landing ripped Ten from her thoughts. The team was lined up, waiting for the ramp to lower. When ut did, it revealed rows and rows of silver-clad soldiers with their general in front.The general lead them all to the military vans that would take them to the castle. Ten regeted mentally complaining about sitting close to Phosphorus and The Bride; the van was 10x smaller and more compact than the plane had been, with everyone pressed against each other in some way. The close contact with Phosphorus only got worse when Weasel began to piss on the seats.

"Is he pissing?! Oh my God he's pissing!" Phosphorus cried as he tried to scoot as far away from Weasel as possible.

"Ugh! Get off of me, Glow Stick!" Ten grumbled as she tried to push Phosphorus off of her. She could feel The Bride tense behind her as he pressed the three of them together more as he cried. "Oh dear God, it's on my leg! Did no one think to take him out for a walk after a long trip?" He asked the group, his head facing twords Bride. "You better not be looking at me." She gritted.

Phosperpus turned his "gaze" to Ten. His sarcastic words died on his tongue when he realized how close their faces were. 'Were her eyes always that color?' 'Her hair has a nice shine to it, is it real?' 'Is that lotion I smell? Do they just give out scented lotion in Arkham?' While his mind was whirling with questions, Ten grew irritated by his emotionless stare.

"What? You think it's my job to care for that thing?" She spat, snapping him out of his daze. "I'm not a dog trainer."

Before he could think of a witty comeback that would save him from this situation, the van stopped. Phosphorus straightened himself as they filed out one by one. 'What the hell was that?'

Upon entering, the first thing everyone noticed was the... "incestuous-looking" royal family portraits. Phosphorus snickered at each one, Ten couldn't help herself but smirk in disbelief.

"You can really tell they're a close family." Phosphorus joked to no one in particular; but Ten was the only one who heard it, trying hard to suppress a chuckle. Her quiet sounds drew him in. Her began to observe her as by they waited for the Princess to arrive.

This android - this "woman" was a total mystery to him, an enigma of sorts. Belle Reve held the worst criminals in the world, being held there for Waller's twisted Task Forces; team that are expendable, where no one would care if you lived or died. No one outside of Belle Reve was ever added to a Task Force (at least to his knowledge); so why was she here? What can she do? What are her strengths? Her weaknesses? Her limits? Can she feel emotions like a human? Being the man of science he was, Phosphorus was determined to find the answers to his questions.

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

Ten watched in disgust as the people around her tore apart their meals like cavemen. She didn't know about the conditions in Belle Reve, but she had too much dignity to engage in the "monster" idea that people held for her. Next to her, Phosphorus was devouring the steak in his hands.

Ten rolled her eyes as she picked at her meal. The final straw was when a piece had ripped off and flew at her, hitting her cheek. She was disgusted. "You know they gave you a fork, right?"

Phosphorus stopped his movements to look at her. Gulping down the food in his mouth he chuckled. "Sorry princess, am I too messy for you?"

Ten groaned in disgust.

"Don't try and sit there like you don't want to tear that chicken of yours to the bone." He said, gesturing to her untouched meal. "I've spent a short time in Arkham, highly doubt they've improved their meal plan. Go on, enjoy yourself! Who gives a shit anymore?"

She scoffed. "Just because I've lived off of prison food doesn't mean I need to act like some barbaric monster."

"Hate to break it to ya sweetheart, but we're all monsters here, even you. You can try and hide behind that synthetic skin and fake hair, but your not human. Your just as much of a monster as me."

A fork was slammed into his plate, splitting the steak and cracking the glass plate beneath. The room went silent at the shake of the table, their attention drawing to the end of the table. Ten leaned in close, his green heat reflecting off of her skin.

"I'm nothing like you. You are nothing more than a murderer and a freak who knows nothing more than bloodlust. Don't ever act like you know shit about me because I can assure you, you will never know anything about me."

She shoved herself off of the table and stormed out of the silent room. Flag cleared his throat, trying to break the alward silence. "Uh, sorry about that, Ilana."

"Will she be okay? I can send someone-"

Flag raused his hand, polierly silencing the princess. "She'll be fine. I think she just needs space from a certain someone." Flag turned to glare at Phosphorus, who wasn't paying attention at all.

His gaze was still on the door Ten had exited from when The Bride began to speak. "The hell did you say?"

"Nothin'. She's just being dramatic." He said with a shrug. Turning back to his food, he couldn't help but be even more curious than before.

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

That night, Phosphorus slowly snuck out from behind the door of his room. When the door silently shut, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped with fear; turning around, he slammed his enflammed fist into the face of the person behind him. It took him a second to realize his fist had been caught; behind him stood Ten, casually holding his fist with her bare hands. He jumped back, concerned that the hall wpuld now smell like melting flesh.

"What the hell!? I could've killed you!" He quietly exclaimed.

Ten scoffed as she dropped his fist and crossed her arms. "Yeah, okay." She replied sarcastically.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his "nose". "Look, I don't have time for this. So whatever you have to say just say it so I can go."

"Go where? We're not supposed to leave the grounds. Hell, we're not even supposed to leave our rooms without permission."

"I'm not leaving the grounds I'm-" He stopped himself from sharing too much of his plan. "Just get on with your business!"

Ten sighed, her gaze going from him to her feet. "Sorry about my freak out. Shits been tough since leaving Arkham, it's just stress."

Phosphorus didn't know what to say. Apologizing wasn't a thing he's been accustomed to, with himself or from other people. He just... stood there. Giving her a dumbfounded look. "Are you serious?"

Ten raised her brown. "Excuse me?"

"You don't apologize!" He said, his arms flinging outward. "We are literally war criminals, who the fuck apologizes for possibly hurting someone's feelings?!"

"Look man I could give two shits about your feelings!" Her voice began to rise. "I was just trying to be a mature adult and try to make up with my teamate-"

"Temporary teamate." He corrected.

Ten scoffed. "Ugh! You are so immature!"

As Ten and Phosphorus argued, their voices began to get louder until they weren't even whispering anymore. Phosphorus stopped mid sentence when he saw a light around the corner.

"Shit!" He grabbed Ten's wrist and tugged her into his room and threw her against the wall.

"What the hell are yo-" He slammed his hand over her mouth, though it was a little harder to do since she was taller than him by a good few inches. When she tried to fight him off, Phosphorus pointed at the light shining against the door. That shut her up quickly. The two of them stayed frozen against each other, trying to keep their breathing down as they waited for the light to pass. After a few moments, the two sighed with relief as the guard left. They leaned against the wall, regaining their composure. Ten chewed the inside of her lip as she turned to Phosphorus.

"Let me help you with... well, whatever it is you're planning on doing." She offered.

He raised as non-existent eyebrow. "You wanna help? Why?"

She shrugged. "Can't sleep. I'm bored. And I guess if you won't accept a verbal apology, maybe my actions can speak louder."

Phosphorus chuckled in disbelief as he stood straight. "Alright. Deal."

Phosphorus and Ten crossed the hall to the room Flag resided in. Picking the lock to his room, Phosperpus quietly cracked it open.

"Keep watch out here, make sure no one comes by." Ten nodded as she readied herself.

Phosperus snuck into the room and softly knelt in front of Flag's dresser. He carefully moved things around, searching for the device that activated their chips. When he found it, he had a silent victory before he heard footsteps behind him. Turning his head, he was face-to-crotch with Flag.

"Uh.... hey-" Flag slammed his foot against Phosperpus, sending him back into the wall. Ten heard the thud and went running for the room. When she slammed open the door, she watched as Flag chased after Phosperpus in a room lit with flames.

"What the hell Doc?!" She yelled over the flames.

Flag stopped when he heard her voice. "Ten?! The fuc-" Flag stopped when he was forced to dodge Phosphorus' flaming fist charging at him. He threw Phosperpus to the wall and attempted to punch his face, but was quickly met his the intense flames of the doctor's skull.

"Hey Arkham?! You were supposed to keep watch!" Phosphorus yelled as he dodged several of Flag's swings.

"You told me to keep watch outside, asshoel!" Ten yelled even louder as she danced around the flames. Fly out if Flag's hand, the device caught Ten's eye, but when she went to grab it Phosphorus slammed his fist down to the ground. Flames surrounded the three if them. With one step, Phosphorus froze as he heard a creak beneath them.

Ten groaned with annoyance. "You idiot- AAAHH" The floor caved in and by they went tumbling down. The three of them landed in the kitchen below them. Without any thought, the two men went right back to fighting, the device bouncing back and forth between the two of them. Exhausted from the impact, Ten simply sighed before she made her way to the stove where a bottle of wine stood. She leaned against the wall, drinking it as she watched the men fight.

Flag eventually gained the upper hand, kicking Phosperpus across the floor so he could grab the device. His thumb hovered the red button as Phosperpus tried to attack him once more. Ten's attention was redirected, remembered that she too will be shocked.

"Phosperpus, you idiot!" Flag exclaimed. "You think Waller would give me the only remote? You'd be hopping around like a Mexican jumping bean for days if you escaped. Or, if i told her about all this! I'm not here to torture you- any of you." He said, looking at Ten. "We're supposed to be on the same damn team." Phosphorus looked down in shame. It was stupid to even try but he had to. The feeling of being set free just to be tied down again was taunting him, making him go insane.

Ten sighed, tossing the bottle aside she made her way over to the men. Grabbing Phosperpus by the shoulders and hauling him up, she stopped for a moment and made eye contact with Flag; the two had a silent understanding before she helped Phosperpus limp to the nearest bathroom.

At one point he came to his senses and shoved himself off of her, limping the rest of the way to the bathroom. He set himself down on the toilet seat and held his head in his hands. Cautiously, Ten kneeled infront of him and began to run a scan.

"The hell are you doing?" He asked, feeling uncomfortable under her stare.

"Scanning for any other injuries. I'm going to have fix your-" Ten watched as Phosphorus grabbed the back of his leg and cracked it back into place. She stared at it, a wave of confusion, concern, and pure disgusting rushed over her features all at once.

"Oh.... didn't know you could do... that..."

Phosphorus chuckled at her choked up reaction. "No injuries, babes. Just a bruised ego..."

Ten shrugged. "You gave it a shot. It's not entirely your fault, Waller is just freaky when it comes to being prepared. Guess she was right about doing it though..."

"Yeah..." He trailed off, losing himself in his thoughts.

The two sat in the bathroom in complete silence. Ten leaned her back against thw wall as she picked at the grout. Phosphorus watched her, like he had been, but this time he was actually able to see her.

He didn't mind what he saw, finding a strange sense of peace when watching her mindlessly pick at the floor. Maybe he cpuld get used to this...

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

There is no better feeling than finally being able to write the fanfic you've been thinking about for days. It's not the best, but it's been a long time since I've written anything, so I'm pretty rusty. I realized in the middle of writing the the character I "kinda" came up with is basically just Android 18 from DBZ lmao. Thanks for reading!!!

EDIT: There will be multiple parts!

[paperyowl]

Another WIP, because I have time to go through all of them right now. Rockon, slightly connected to my "Not a Rookie Mistake"-verse.

---

Rocker introduced his wife to Deacon on a Wednesday afternoon.

It had been a relatively quiet week, and Mumford had finally sent his team home for some much-deserved days off. It wasn't unusual for guests to linger in the entrance area under the general supervision of one or two security officers, especially around shift change.

Deacon knew most of the faces of his team members' partners by then. And usually the respective spouses of the B-team as well. But there was one woman that he had never seen before. She wore simple jeans and a crisp blouse and her hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. There was a quiet confidence about her, a subtle strength in the way she held herself. She was definitely attractive.

Deacon watched as her face morphed into a smile as she spotted whoever she was waiting for - and almost choked on the water he'd just been about to drink when he saw that it was Rocker who kissed her in greeting.

"Woah there, Deac," Luca called out. "You doing okay?"

Deacon coughed, then laughed. "Just went down the wrong pipe."

He didn't know what else to say, how else to cover up that wicked lick of jealousy that had just tightened his throat. And hold up, where had that even come from - he had no business being jealous, he was not jealous.

It was a good thing that Deacon could make himself fall in step with Luca almost blindly these days, following the rest of his squad while they were getting ready to head out.

Deacon just barely managed to keep his polite, neutral face firm when they reached the couple. When had this happened?

"Don't tell me she's here for you, Rocker," Luca teased, and Rocker scoffed good-naturedly. He certainly couldn't complain about any teasing while he used every chance to rib them himself. Deacon knew that Rocker revelled in their little rivalry - the number of betting pools the man ran was a bit concerning these days.

"Don't mind them," Rocker told the woman by his side. "Rowdy bunch the lot of them."

"Makes you fit right in, doesn't it?" The woman said, and earned herself a bout of laughter from the group. Rocker put a dramatic hand to his chest, but the woman smacked his hand lightly against his shoulder.

"Everyone, this is Valerie," Rocker said. "My wife."

And somehow, that was worse than Rocker kissing her. Something very ugly reared its head, an emotion that made Deacon's gut clench. He told himself very firmly to let it go.

Somehow, Deacon joined the rest of his team in polite greetings. He didn't know how he hadn't realized Rocker was dating someone. Let alone him having a wife.

It wasn't his place. But Deacon was feeling way too many things to even focus on one of them for long enough to tell himself to cut it out.

The next morning, Deacon walked into the office kitchen, and of everyone who could have decided to arrive early that day, he found Rocker there. Luck was definitely not on Deacon's side that day.

"Good morning," Rocker said when Deacon hesitated for a beat. He echoed the greeting, then went about making breakfast without further acknowledging Rocker.

He knew that he wouldn't get away with it - but Deacon didn't even know what he could say about this. 'I didn't know you're married?' Yeah, it wasn't really Deacon's place. 'I'm sorry, but I'm jealous of your gorgeous wife'. Also, not great.

Rocker sighed when Deacon's silence continued.

"Do we have to talk about this?"

"What's there to talk about?" Deacon deflected rather badly if he was being honest.

"We've been married six months," Rocker told him. It was new. But not that new - and Deacon had never even picked up on it. But that wasn't exactly a surprise. He tried not to look at Rocker too closely, not to interact beyond friendly jabs.

(Because he'd wanted Rocker back on that day in the bar, but Deacon was trying hard not to look at the fact that this want had never entirely gone away. If anything, it had gotten worse over the years, worse with starting to know this man.)

"I thought you," Deacon started and then stopped.

"I'm bi," Rocker told him. "Always have been."

There was another silence. Rocker cleared his throat.

"Well. Good talk. We're good?"

"Of course," Deacon said.

"Right," Rocker muttered, sounding exhausted for some reason.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Because it is currently hailing in my area, how would the main 10 skeletons react to experiencing their first hail storm on the surface?

( I know you are currently on Christmas break and I was planning on waiting till the 26 of December at least to ask but I am very forgetful so I had to ask before it slipped my mind hope you enjoy your Christmas though🎄)

Undertale Sans - He thought someone threw a small rock behind his head or something, but by the time he looks up to the sky, hundreds of tiny ice balls fell on his skull. Sans is confused and a bit scared and teleports back to his home where he feels safe. He immediately searches online about what the hell this is, and he's relieved when he sees it's normal. He's happy he didn't stay outside though. That hurts.

Undertale Papyrus - "MY CAR!!!!" Papyrus is screaming, trying to cover his car with his own body to protect it from whatever is falling from the sky. Well. That's not very effective, and his car still ends with a ton of impacts and now he's losing his mind, insulting the sky with all he has. Everyone is staring, wondering what the hell is that monster doing. He's so mad! He did nothing wrong, why the hell is the sky attacking him?!

Underswap Sans - It happened while he was chasing some criminal. Blue stops dead in his tracks, wondering if he got shot or something. ... How do you know if you're dead? Will he know if he even died? He was in the middle of an existential crisis when the hail started to fall for real, making him completely panicky. What's going on? Is he under attack? He's so confused. ... Wait, where's the guy he was chasing? Shit! He forgot!

Underswap Papyrus - He's not too sure what's going on, and he doesn't know if he really wants to know what going on. He crawls on the floor of his living room to his window and glances outside nervously. The floor is white like it's snowing, but everyone outside is screaming like they're getting murdered. Is the snow dangerous now? Should he block the doors? He decides to call his brother for help just in case.

Underfell Sans - He growls angrily and starts to look everywhere who attacked him. When his eyes fell on a random man, he grabs a rock and throws it at his face, pissed off. The guy turns around, NOT HAPPY, and asks what the hell is his problem. That's when it starts to hail and Red realizes he messed up big with a guy doing three times his size. Welp. He's out of here. He teleports the hell out of here.

Underfell Papyrus - He grabs Frisk by the head, lifts them above his head and runs for his life. He has no idea what's going on but if the kid has a scratch, Toriel will have his head and he doesn't want to die. He squeaks when he realizes he's covering himself with Frisk and that Frisk is taking all of the hits for him. Omg, he's so dead. He doesn't know what the hell is happening, but that thing falling from the sky just made a mortal enemy.

Horrortale Sans - He is standing still under the hail storm, kinda paralyzed and weakly asking for help. His head is full of ice. It hurts. He is scared to move to take it off in case it's something that will hurt him. He guesses he's just going to stand there and wait for someone to notice he's dying on the inside or something.

Horrortale Papyrus - He is offended. He was just singing to himself outside and apparently, the sky hates his singing so much it started to throw ice at him. He flips both his birds at the sky. No one will stop him. He will keep singing, and now he will do it even louder!

Swapfell Sans - He is standing guard while Toriel is taking cover inside some shop. She forbid him to go inside in case someone wants to kill her, so he is still under the hail storm, looking miserable. A random kid even finds him so pitiful they come to give him an umbrella and gently pat his hand to show some support. It's too late though. He's entirely wet and he's probably going to get sick for days by now. Stupid weather. Stupid queen. Stupid job. He won't stop complaining.

Swapfell Papyrus - He doesn't know what's going on but he was bored, not knowing what to do to piss off his brother today. He opens all the doors and windows and stares as the house slowly fills with ice, a big smile on his face. He can't wait for everything to melt!

Fellswap Gold Sans - He doesn't think much about this. It's just a weird weather. It uses to rain all the time in Waterfall and no one ever think it's weird. You're not special with your weird human weather. What will these ice balls do to him anyway? Wet him? Oooh, he's scared. That's so lame. Not ten minutes later, he's throwing a temper tantrum because there's a hole in the roof and he can't stop the hail storm just by screaming really loud.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He was thinking about some ice cream when a random ball of ice fell at his feet. Uh. He picks it up and licks it, then shrugs. Wait, does it mean he has a superpower now? That's so cool! He lifts his two arms in the air and screams "ICE CREAM" and suddenly it starts to rain ice balls everywhere! He was so happy at first, but then the ice balls started growing bigger and crashing on his skull and now he's just running for his life, apologizing for using his power too much to whatever entity gave it to him. He's sorry, please stop hitting him!

[lillaydee]

Uncoupled - September

Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader

Two people leaving their marriages ended up going through the mandatory one year separation together before filing for divorce.

Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?

WARNINGS: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), No age gap, Roommate Joel, Teacher Joel, Handyman Joel, Insecure Joel, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning.

SERIES MASTER LIST

August

---

You fluffed the cushions on the couch for the 13th time that morning, Ellie studying your actions from the small stool she was made to sit on as you flitted around the place tidying again and again for the God-knows-how-many-th time in the past hour. She was convinced you had gone crazy. All that was going to happen was someone was going to come over to look at your old room to rent. And yet, you were acting as if someone was coming in to judge the cleanliness of the house and throw you in jail if they so much as found a speck of dust.

She made the mistake of snacking on a cracker while watching tv, waiting for 10 am to come. And now that you’d finished vacuuming the couch again, you were taking your nervousness on the poor cushions.

“Beans, it’s okay. They’re not gonna say no just because the cushions are wonky.”

“You don’t know that!”

Tess told you a prospective renter was coming to see the room at 10 am. Set an amount for rent and utilities. Just be there at 10. No more, no less. That was it. That was all she said.

God, what if it’s some lady who hated kids? Or someone who didn’t like Ellie? Or worse, someone Ellie didn’t like? You were more than willing to accommodate, as long as they were nice to Ellie. You needed the extra income. It would put your mind at ease. The rent money and whatever you saved from shared utilities could definitely help contribute to Ellie’s college fund, and maybe you could have a chance at building your savings up again.

You were shocked at how quickly savings can deplete when someone died. The taxes, the funeral, the fees, the whatchamacallits that you had never known existed came to you, all requiring the swiping of a card or the signing of a cheque.

So when Tess asked you if you would consider renting the spare bedroom out, your only thought was Ellie. Would she be alright with some stranger living across the corridor from her? She had barely adjusted to being without her parents, and now a stranger might be moving in? Was that even a good idea?

Shockingly, when you asked her what her thoughts were, she just said, well, let’s meet some people. We’ll see, okay?

God, was she really five? How’d she get so matured all of a sudden? Two days before her parents left she was asking you why one shouldn’t eat boogers. And now she’s all wise? What was happening?

You, on the other hand, was a bit apprehensive with how Tess went about all this. You didn’t even put out advertisements or anything. Once you were on board she just skipped off, taking her phone out to call someone, and then telling you about the appointment.

It was all so strange. No numbers you could call or text, no description of the potential renter, just – be there at 10.

You heard a truck drive up and stopped next to your car. You didn’t even dare to look. You were so nervous, God knows why. You asked Ellie to stand up and hid the colorful stool you had made her sit quietly on in the coat closet. You brushed whatever imaginary crumbs she may or may not have on her person and told her one more time she could change her mind about this if she wanted to. She rolled her eyes at you and told you to open the door already.

You scrunched your face at her, smoothened your dress and opened the door before the person could even knock.

It’s not a woman. It’s a man.

And not just any man.

“Joel.”

“Hey, I thought that car looked familiar.”

“What are you doing here?”

He looked a bit confused. “Maria sent me, said you had a room to rent out?”

“I do, but…”

He looked a bit thrown by your hesitation. His face fell. “Did you not want to rent the room out?”

“No, it’s not that… it’s just… well, come in. I’ll show you,” you told him.

He came inside, toed his shoes off in the doorway and carefully slid it under the shoe rack you had there. He closed the front door behind him, frowning a little at the loud squeak it was making. Ellie came over and offered him a fist, which he took, a wide smile on his face. Hey kiddo. Hey old man.

He followed her lead into the corridor leading to the rooms. You shook your head a little, finally opening your old room for him to see, the door squeaking as you did so.

It was a girl’s room. Pink wall to wall carpeting, pink wallpaper, the white dresser complete with the movie star mirror and lightbulbs, a white closet, and of course, that white, very princessy queen sized bed Annie had bought for you. You didn’t even know if he’d fit on that bed. If he did, his feet would definitely get caught up in the metal swirls that was the foot of the bed.

He just stood there, looking around, and then going on to open the closet, the drawers, checking the bulbs on the mirrors all worked, shook the bed for sturdiness and sat on it, bouncing a bit to test the mattress. Then he looked out the windows, looking at the view of the school field across the road, opening and closing the blinds, switching the lights on and off, checking the HVAC vents, and then stood in the middle of the room, his hands on his hips looking around the room once more.

He looked at you, “Bathroom?”

“It’s next door,” Ellie answered for you when you were too stunned at his nonchalance over the pinkness of the room.

He gestured to the direction, silently asking you if he could take a look? Ellie pulled his hand to show him when you, yet again, did not respond. You heard her tell him he would have that bathroom to himself. He asked her where her room was, and she told him, telling him she will use the ensuite in your room. That one had a tub, she told him. You heard her open her bedroom door and showing him her room, much too small for anything but a single bed, and him mumbling some questions to her before the two came back into the pink room where you stood, still unmoving since you entered.

“You sure you don’t want this room?” he asked Ellie.

“Eww, no, it’s pink.”

He laughed, and you finally found your voice.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think Tess would send a man to look at the room. The previous owner used it as her sewing room or hobby room or something, and we haven’t changed anything since we moved in. My late sister-in-law sort of went crazy with the princess theme when she furnished it for me, since Ellie didn’t like the room at all.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind, unless - would you prefer to rent to a woman?” He suddenly looked nervous.

“No, I don’t mind, if you don’t. I just… it’s so pink, even I had a hard time living here before. You can change it if you want, I plan to redo the whole house anyway, someday. The house is so old, hadn’t been touched, basically since it was built. So, it’s a bit dated.”

“I can see that. Can I see the rest of the house?”

You took him to the kitchen, the laundry room, the backyard, and finally, sat him down in the living room, ready for him to say no.

“What’s the rent like?”

You told him. The utilities would be split right down the middle, telling him how much they were the previous month. He nodded, looking around the house once more, as if contemplating.

“We can discuss the rent and the split on the utilities further, if you prefer, I’m sure we could agree on a number,” you hurriedly said.

His eyes found you again. “No, that sounds reasonable. I’m okay with that number if you are. What about groceries?”

Somehow, over the next 30 minutes the two of you managed to come up with an arrangement you both were comfortable with. He looked at Ellie, who had spent the time you and him discussing the finances on her belly, watching some cartoon on TV.

“You okay with me moving in, kiddo?” he asked her, nudging her little legs with his socked toe.

She didn’t even look at him. Just shrugged and told him if he’s okay staying in the pink room, she’s okay with him living across the corridor from her.

He smiled, thanking her, before looking at you.

“When can I move in?”

**********

He moved in the very next morning, everything you saw him leave his marital home with in the bed of his truck. Ellie was making herself helpful, holding a corner of whatever he was carrying all the way from the front door to his pink room, before waiting for him to get another and doing the exact same thing again. She was mesmerized by his guitar case, asking him if he could play for her one day. He immediately opened it, and she audibly marvelled at the guitar, running her tiny fingers on the strings.

“Ells sweetie, be careful with that. It looks expensive, don’t touch things that are not yours okay?”

She immediately pulled her hand away, apologizing to him.

“No, it’s okay,” he told you. “Kids are curious, that’s a good thing.”

God, you forgot he’s a teacher. He’s used to this.

He played a song for her. He didn’t sing, just plucked at the strings – a simple tune you had heard in elevators and while waiting for calls to be connected to a customer service rep. Ellie was smiling the whole time, her eyes watching as his fingers deftly plucked at the strings, completely mesmerized by what she was seeing and hearing.

She thanked him when he was done, leaving him to unpack. You closed the door behind her, thanking him for entertaining her like that. He nodded, giving you a smile as he unzipped his suitcase.

You drew a big, deep breath. Okay. That’s done. Back to normal services. What was it you were planning to do? Right. The lawn. You put on your shoes and went out back where the lawnmower was instead of the garage. The garage door was stuck and wouldn’t open, and Eddie had been planning to get someone to fix it before winter came. One more thing on the list.

You had put the outdoor chores behind you this past month, focusing on getting Ellie settled and the estate handled. Now that the room was rented out and Joel had moved in, you could tackle the outdoors.

Okay, you can do this. How hard could it be? Sure, you’ve never mowed a lawn before, but you just push right? The house you shared with Max didn’t have a lawn. The previous owner had paved over the entire backyard to avoid just such labour, and you were glad for it. But now, you have this bungalow with grass wrapped around three sides of the house, so you guessed mowing the lawn would have to be a regular thing now. The lawn had been neglected for a month, so you needed to get started at some point.

You inserted the key, pressed the start button on the mower, and you were amazed that it immediately roared to life. See? Easy. You had no idea why people complain about mowing the freaking lawn. You chose to have one, you had to mow it. Part of the deal. Your neighbours used to pay people to do this or wait for their husbands to come home. Pfft… this was easy. You had no idea what the big deal was. You took a deep breath and began pushing. After 30 minutes or so, you had pushed the darned thing around the entire backyard when the thing made the most pathetic sound and sputtered before dying on you. You peeked at the thingy on the mower, seeing the bag the cut grass was supposed to pool in and discovered it was empty. You looked around the lawn and realized that none of the grass was actually cut.

You had been pushing that heavy thing for half an hour and nothing was cut.

Oh come on!!!

Why’d you have to buy a house with so much lawn Ed? And what’s with the useless lawn mower he bought? It was supposed to be brand new, and it wasn’t cutting anything. He was so proud of that purchase too, boring you and Annie for hours about what it could do, excited to have a lawn after living in a small apartment since he got married. Sheesh. You pushed the start button again and again to no avail. You finally just dropped yourself on the grass and gave up entirely. Oh well. Some long grass never killed anyone. Right? You laid on your back, breathing heavily from your lame attempt at mowing the lawn. Who knew pushing a lawnmower was such a workout? Damn. The sun was not helping either, mocking your lame attempts, beating down your neck, and now your face as you laid there, your eyes closed in frustration.

A shadow covered your face all of a sudden. You squinted to see what it was, only to see Joel standing over you, a cold glass of water in his hand. Here, drink this, he told you.

You sat up, drinking the water thirstily as he sat down on the grass with you. He had changed into some ratty pair of jeans and an old looking t-shirt, asking you what you thought you were doing.

“Mowing the lawn.”

He looked around, nodded with an impressed expression on his face, telling you good job. You rolled your eyes and told him that the lawn mower was broken. Maybe you did sound a little defensive, but that was not the point.

“It’s brand new. Still shiny. What do you mean it’s broken?”

“It won’t cut anything! Useless piece of junk.”

He stood up and lifted the small hood on the mower. No gas. He looked around and saw the little metal cabinet Eddie had placed next to what was supposed to be the patio one day and looked inside. He came back with some gasoline and refilled the tank. He pushed the start button and the thing sputtered. No dice.

You gestured at it frustratedly with an ‘I told you so’ look on your face. He shook his head, told you the gasoline needed time to get to the engine. He pressed the button two more times and the mower roared to life. You rolled your eyes a bit and told him it won’t cut the grass. “There’s something wrong with it, I’m telling you! Trust me!”

He studied the machinery for a bit before taking the handle, pressing what looked like brake levers in front of it and pushed.

Et voila. The grass under it magically got shorter, the smell of cut grass filling your senses.

Oh.

You went over and tried to get the mower back from him. He cut the engine and blocked the handle of the mower from your hands with his body.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m gonna mow the lawn.”

“No you’re not. I’ll do it. Go back inside. It’s hot.” He pulled earphones out of his pocket and plugged them into his phone, selecting a playlist and starting the mower again, shooing you inside before going on to mow your lawn.

You wanted to argue, but your shoulders and back were killing you from pushing that heavy thing around on that waste of gasoline trip around the backyard earlier. So you let him mow your lawn. Well, his too, you guessed, now that he’s living here, a little annoyed at how easy he was making the whole thing look.  

You went in and got him some water in a jug and filled it with ice. It really was hot today, and that glass of water he gave you was a lifesaver. You placed the jug and a clean glass on the table outside and went back in to start lunch. You figured something nice, quick but simple and filling to welcome him to the house. Just as you finished seasoning the Pad Kra Pao, the engine to the mower cut off. You heard him push the mower back into the shade and pour himself a glass of water.

“Oh wow, it smells like Thai food in here,” he said, placing the almost empty jug on the kitchen counter, before closing the squeaky and wonky kitchen door, having to lift it up a bit to close it properly.

“Yeah, lunch is almost ready. Hope you’re hungry. I’m making…”

Oh shit.

You’ve just turned towards him. He’s all red, sweaty and glowing from sweat, the sun was beating the living crap out of him outside. You quickly took the jug and refilled it, asking him to drink more, apologizing profusely for making him mow the lawn on his first day living there. He hadn’t even spent the night, and now he’s at risk for heatstroke because you couldn’t figure out how to work the mower.

“Hey, don’t worry, I just burn easily. Relax. I drank plenty.”

“You don’t have to do the chores, you know, I’m pretty sure we didn’t discuss that.”

“Nonsense. Happy to do it. Besides, I can argue you don’t have to cook for me too, you know. Pretty sure ‘cooking for your tenant’ would not be in the contract either.”

You didn’t know what to say.

He told you he was going to shower and change and he would be right back to help you with the rest of lunch. He passed by Ellie, who was walking into the kitchen, giving her a high five, laughing a little as she complained about his sweaty hand.

You tried to protest when he helped set the table after his shower, he shushed you and went about opening and closing the cabinetry looking for the right ones for the things he was looking for.

He asked you how to make the dish, saying that he would love to try making it himself one day. You told him it was usually a spicy dish, but… you cocked your head towards Ellie who was diligently sifting Thai basil out of her portion before eating. He nodded in understanding.

He asked Ellie if she was excited for school next week. She shook her head, looking a bit sad. You told him later that she was just upset – she used to be excited, but after the accident, knowing that her parents won’t be sending her to school… His face fell, rubbing his face, saying that he couldn’t even imagine. He told you that he would just be in the next building from the preschool, so you could put him in as an emergency contact if the school couldn’t reach you for any reason.

Ellie fell asleep with her head on Joel’s lap that night, watching some stuff on TV as he read a book he had brought out. He refused your offer to take her from him as he carried her into her room, telling you he really, really didn’t mind. You told him that the doors to the rooms did not lock, but not to worry, you made sure Ellie would knock if she needed to go into his room, which she had expressly promised not to, unless there was an emergency. He could, of course, install a lock on his door if he wanted to. You would rather Ellie didn’t lock her door, in case you needed to come to her rescue at night, and you never lock your door as she used your bathroom. You bid him goodnight, going into your room and closing the door.

Joel sat in the living room for a while, reading his book for a couple more chapters before giving in to his tired body. As he laid his head on the left side of the princess bed, his feet on the right side, he couldn’t help feel light-hearted about today. For the first time since he left his marital home, he didn’t feel awkward or intrusive. He had thought it would be weird, living with a woman he hardly knew and her niece, and not just any woman – the woman who was the wife of the man his wife cheated on him with – but he hadn’t felt like that at all. The most awkward he felt was when he insisted to mow the lawn, and later, coming in to lunch being made for him, and that you fought him when he tried to do the dishes, and he argued that you had cooked, so he should clean. And even that, it was more that he wasn’t used to someone doing things around the house for him. He was the one doing everything back when he was still living with Jen.  

And Ellie. He’d met her three times. But he liked her. Felt very protective of her. It just felt natural, having her fall asleep with her head on his lap.

As he drifted to sleep, a thought entered his mind.

He could get used to this, princess bed, pink room, Hollywood dresser and all.

**********

You woke up early the next day, getting ready to go to the bakery, your first day fully back since that day you received the call. You packed some of Ellie’s clothes and books and iPad, and lifted her still sleeping body off her bed, quietly locking the front door behind you and buckling her in the back of your car.

It was 5.30 am when you arrived at the bakery. You unlocked the back entrance, placed Ellie on the futon in your office and got to work. Your routine was simple. Get the dough that was left to proof overnight from the fridge and make the pastries and breads and buns your customer liked before opening the door at 7.30 sharp. You worked quietly, efficiently, your movements a routine since you opened the bakery five years ago. You remembered Max being so excited for you back then. He used to love your freshly baked pastries, getting to the bakery early with you to keep you company. Until he decided you were just trying to make him fat and came home so late he didn’t have the energy to come keep you company anymore.

Tess and Frank arrived about ten minutes after you did, each going to their own stations preparing for the day with you. Tess asked you how the first day living with Joel was, and you told her, surprisingly, it wasn’t awkward at all.

You were really shocked at how comfortable you were with him. By the time you shut your bedroom door you were a bit thrown at the thought that it was his first night there. He hadn’t even been there 24 hours, and yet, having him in the house just felt easy. The only time you felt awkward with him was when he insisted on helping around the house. The lawn, the setting of the table, the dishes, it just felt… odd. But you knew why. You were not used to it all. You were solely left to do those things on your own when you were living with Max. Having a man who helped without being asked, and not having to engage in a screaming match for asking was alien to you.

And what was more shocking? How easily he took to Ellie, and the little girl to him. When you think how much of a stranger Max was to her, it was crazy how quickly these two made friends. And his offer to be her emergency contact… you just trusted him. You didn’t know why.

You remembered thinking as you drifted to sleep – you could get used to having him around.

You arrived home at 6, Tess and Frank insisted on you leaving before closing. Ellie had been at the bakery since 5.30 that morning. She must be exhausted. It’s okay, they told you. They understood. Go.

When you drove up to your house you thought your eyes were deceiving you.

The garage door was open. It was freaking open.

You walked into the living room, shutting the door behind you once Ellie had come in, realizing that the door was no longer squeaking.

Oh… and something smelled amazing.

Joel was in the backyard, your kitchen door off its hinges, propped on an old table outside. He was measuring something on the door, looking up as you walked out.

“Hello, roomie!”

“What are you doing?”

“Just fixing the door. It was driving me crazy. It was stuck. Shouldn’t anymore, now,” he said, brushing the whatever it was called with his hand.

“I was gonna do that.”

Okay, you weren’t, but you felt bad he was doing this. This shouldn’t be his problem.

“Really? Oh, well, now you don’t have to. Can you hand me the Phillips-head?” he held out his hand to you, waiting for you to get the Phillip guy he asked for.

You looked at the ten or so items he had laid out on the small table, calculating the probability that the one you might pick might be this Phillip. Now… which one looked like a Phillip?

“You don’t know, do you?”

“I do, I’m just tired,” you said defensively, picking up something that looked like a Phillip.

“That’s a chisel. This,” he picked up a screwdriver with the + point, his voice straining as he stretched his body to get it, “Is a Phillips-head.”

“I meant to pick that one,” said, rather embarrassed that you got it so wrong.

“Sure you were.” He smiled and went back to doing his thing. Once he installed the door back to it’s rightful place, he called you and Ellie for dinner, demonstrating the door was no longer stuck or squeaky.

The man made tacos for dinner. Okay, he bought the shells, but the filling he made was pretty delicious. He and Ellie had a blast having a contest on who could make the most mess as they ate. And Ellie won by a mile. You took out the cheesecake slices you brought home for dessert, him immediately warning you not to bring home dessert every day.

“I’m gonna have to start working out again if you keep this up. And I HATE working out,” he complained, shovelling the cheesy goodness into his mouth.

As you stood in the garage closing and opening the door with ease after Ellie went to bed, he came out to join you.

“Joel, thank you so much for everything you did today, you really didn’t have to. I was gonna call someone.”

“Well, I had nothing to do until Thursday, and they were easy fixes. Don’t worry about it. And now, you don’t have to pay someone to do it for you.”

“I just don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or anything.”

“You’re not, I’m happy to do it. Relax. What else am I gonna do? I might strip the pink wallpaper off my walls, if you don’t mind me taking you up on your offer. While I have the time to do it.”

“Of course, it’s your room. Do what you want,” you told him, thanking him again for dinner and everything he had done around the house that day. “Good night Joel.”

“Night Lily.”

**********

It’s Ellie’s first day of school. You told Tess and Frank you were going to be late, and they waved you off, telling you they understood. She was looking a bit down, touching her parents clothes in her closet before walking out to have her breakfast.

Joel came out, dressed in a dress shirt, a tie and a pair of slacks, looking decidedly different than the jeans and t-shirt you were used to see him in.

Good different. His hair combed neatly, his beard and moustache trimmed, and was he wearing cologne?

Damn, Miller. This man cleaned up well.

You told him that, even Ellie was telling him he looked good. He in turn told her she looked great too, giving her a side hug before getting himself a mug for his morning coffee. He took a piece of toast and leaned on the kitchen counter next to you as you finished making Ellie’s lunch and snacks for the day.

“You look great too, by the way,” he said. You had put on a nicer dress that day, and a bit of make-up – you wanted to make a great first impression for Ellie’s teachers. You scoffed a laugh – anything was better than the flour you normally wore as involuntary powder, huh?

He didn’t answer, a smile gracing his lips as he took another sip of coffee, his eyes still on you.

He was a bit stunned when you handed him his lunch for the day. He took it, thanking you, touched at the gesture. God, when was the last time someone other than his mother made him lunch to take to school?

The three of you walked to school, going in through the back gate that was literally a few yards away from your driveway. Ellie holding to your hand tight, Joel holding her backpack and lunch in his hands.

“Good morning Mr Miller,” his students chorused every once in a while. He nodded with a smile, showing Ellie the building where his classes were. You couldn’t help but notice the female students openly swooning at him as he walked by. As you got to the car park, some female teachers who were talking to each other stopped as soon as they saw him. You noticed a couple of them checking his ring finger before coming over, eyeing you and Ellie with… something… asking him who you were.

He introduced you as Lily and Ellie. That was it. No explanation of who you were, before placing his hand on the small of your back and leading you away, telling them you were late for Ellie’s first day of school. You could see them gather and whisper as soon as his back was turned. Wow.

When you got to the preschool, Bill and Andy were there, Andy excitedly cooing at Ellie over how great she looked, checking out her bag and lunch box, while Bill quietly shook Joel’s hand, gave you a quick kiss and stood there silently, watching Ellie answer Andy’s questions. She gave him an excited fist bump as Andy got up to hug you and Joel, asking her if she’s got everything for school, asking her again if she’s sure, and asking her one more time, before producing a keychain with her name engraved on it, clipping it on her bag. She hugged him, and you could see Bill falter, holding the little girl tight.

Her teacher, Mrs Adler came to your group. She squatted to Ellie’s level, introducing herself to her. Which ones were your mom and dad, she asked. And you felt your head go cold. You had forgotten to tell the school about Eddie and Annie’s passing. Shit. Not good. So not good.

To your surprise, Ellie took your hand and Joel’s.

Mrs Adler stood up and shook your hand, before turning to Joel, shocked that he was the one Ellie referred to as her dad. She knew him, of course. What female teacher in that entire academic complex didn’t. She managed to keep her face straight, telling you and Joel that she would be in safe hands, and that you were required to go online and fill out a form to update her emergency contacts and the likes. You were still too stunned at Ellie’s actions, so Andy immediately did it for you, putting you as the first emergency contact, Joel as the second. She then listed all the four of them as the people who were allowed to sign Ellie out other than you and Joel.

Mrs Adler took Ellie to the classroom and showed her the table and cubby she was assigned to. You asked to speak to her outside and told her the whole story with her parents. Mrs Adler looked a bit teary, but looked at the four of you and told you Ellie was a lucky girl that so many people stepped up for her. She’ll be fine. You can come pick her up at three.

Ellie came running out and hugging all four of you, holding you and Joel tight as she did. You promised her you would see her at three, and that Joel was right in the next building, okay? She nodded, trying hard not to cry. The four of you left with heavy hearts, Andy rubbing your back to calm you down, as you were so close to tears.

Joel came up to you and rubbed your arm up and down, you okay? He looked sad himself, for whatever reason. You nodded, and he pulled you in for a one-armed hug, telling you she’ll be okay. We’ll see her later today. You let him hold you for a while, before pulling back, thanking him for being there for Ellie. Of course, he replied, easily. Andy told you she would drive you back to get your car, Bill hanging back to talk to Joel for a bit, before patting him on the shoulder.

Your day at the bakery was filled with thoughts of Ellie. Was she doing okay? Did she make new friends? Did she eat?

And every once in a while, the feeling you felt as Joel hugged you came flashing back.

Stop it. Ellie. Focus on Ellie.

Joel was thinking of Ellie too, refraining himself from going over every other hour to peek at her classroom. The teachers wouldn’t like that. He just hoped she was doing alright.

She implied he was her dad. And you her mom.

As Joel opened the lunch you packed for him during his break, he thought of the way your hair smelled as he hugged you that morning. Stop it. Ellie. Focus. Ellie.

As he bit into the sandwich you made for him, he couldn’t help but take a deep, satisfied breath.

Yeah… he could get used to this.

---

October Part 1

[women-in-ssports]

FOREVER AND A DAY

Ch 2 TRYOUTS

Day 1

Okay ladies come line up Coach yelled

Paige POV

Paige was the first one to the line, anxiously awaiting the start of tryouts. There were a lot more girls than she thought, all fighting for a spot on just two teams. As she was looking around at all the girls she spotted, her. From some eavesdropping earlier she’s 90% sure her name is Azzi. But she’s 100% sure she’s going to be her new best friend.

AZZI POV

The first day of tryouts were skill based nothing crazy. A lot of dribbling, passing, ending with shots. The coaches said after tomorrow’s 3v3 they were going to post the round of cuts, to start separating the teams. Never cocky but Azzi didn’t think she had anything to worry about, a few of the older girls even complemented her shooting earlier. Basketball she knew, it was teammates she was nervous about. After the disaster of summer league, she didn’t want this team to end up like that one had.

Azzi wait up! Caroline yelled from across the court. Do you want to hangout for a little we were going to go to sonic across the street! Oo that’s tempting… Azzi replied. Not waiting for another word Caroline wrapped her arm around Azzi and motioned for Nika, Aubrey, Ice and the blonde Azzi saw earlier to follow.

Without missing a beat, Caroline leaned close to Azzi and said she’s a transfer sophomore from out of state, her name is Paige Madison, Libra, apparently she’s dating someone from her last school, and she seems really nice. A small snort escaped Azzi and she turned to her friend shaking her head.. Your unbelievably creepy Care. Whatever!! Like yall don’t appreciate all the information I get yall! Caroline replied nonchalantly

When they got to Sonic Azzi made her way over to the blonde! With a small wave she introduced herself.

Hi! I’m Azzi I’m a freshman!

Paige!! Nice to meet you, I’m a sophomore but only been here a week.

Oh I heard. Azzi let it slip before she covered her mouth

You heard? Huh? What you checking up on me Azzi?

Caroline just likes to talk! I also heard you’re a Libra, if you were going to hide that fact from me.

Wow can’t even keep my zodiac sign a secret. What kind of place did I transfer into?

Hopefully a good one! Azzi laughs out at the blonde.

What else do you already know about me? So I can tell you new interesting stuff?

Oh, well we got the Libra thing out of the way, you’re name is Paige Madison, you transferred in from out of state, you have a bf from your last school and apparently you’re really nice. But I’ll have to judge that nice fact as I get to know you!

Paige bursted out laughing, she couldn’t help herself. Anyone else this bold would turn her away, but something about Azzi was comforting.

Well I am nice! Thank you very much Azzi. And you got pretty much everything except I am not dating someone from my last school anymore. We broke up. (Also it was a girl but she’s not going to tell her new teammates that fact about her on their first hangout)

Oh shoot sorry! Azzi said

No need to be sorry, new beginnings are good.

I know what you mean. Azzi replied a little to knowing that caught Paige wondering if there was a story there.

Just then Nika’s hand split them, handing Paige her Shirley temple and Azzi her flavored water.

The rest of the evening little to Azzis knowledge Paige spent stealing any glance she could at the curly haired brunette. While Azzi on the other hand found herself drawn to the blonde but not knowing why.

Day 2

Paige! Azzi called wide open on the perimeter. But before she could even finish her name the ball was in her hands one second and swishing through the net the next. They played like they were one unit and everyone noticed.

Okay girls! Grab some water! Coach yelled as the buzzer went off signally the end of the scrimmage.

That was amazing! Paige yelled bouncing over the Azzi! We are going to be one dynamic due the next three years Ms. Fudd!

Yeah! Yeah, yeah. Let’s just wait to see if we make it past Day two of tryouts! Azzi replied sipping her water.

Oh no need we are making it! Paige said through her smile as she wrapped her arm around Azzi shoulder and wiped her sweat down her cheek.

Before Azzi had a chance to react, Coach was calling everyone in. Azzi shot a quick mean mug to Paige’s already waiting grin.

Alright ladies! That was one of the best Day 2 of tryouts we have had in a while. Please check the lists as you leave the gym! If your name is not on it please come back next year and keep working hard. Also note if your name is on the Varsity or Junior Varsity list for tomorrow to start seeing how our teams are going to be laid out.

Caroline scooped her arm though Azzi at the same time Nika did the same to Paige. Them four with Ice and Aubrey made their way to the JV list which they all expected to be on due to them being underclassmen. Everyone’s name was there except for Paige and Azzi. Their friends all turned to look at them.

Aubrey broke the silence first, there has to be a mistake. There is no way yall aren’t on this list! Yall did amazing out…

Nika a little less nice interrupted with a “WHAT THE FUCK! These coaches are crazy idk about them but you all deserve to be on this list with us! And I’ll go tell them!” Just as Nika went to turn she caught a glimpse of the Varsity List. No fucking way.. she whispered turning back to Azzi and Paige. Yall made Varsity…

Azzi POV

Arm in arm with Caroline she scanned the list. Her name wasn’t on it. How can this be, she did everything perfect. She played her heart out today. Her eyes scanned the paper again and again, never landing on her name. She heard Kk and Nika start talking but couldn’t bring herself to listen to what they were saying. All she could think was how was she going to tell her parents.

But before she could contemplate it anymore she felt something, no not something, someone hard hit her followed by her back hitting the floor and 3 more people jumping on her.

Paige POV

My name isn’t here. She turned as KK started talking, taking in bits of what she was saying but not fully registering anything other than her name wasn’t on the list. But then her eyes shot to Nika as she suddenly grew quiet in her screaming. Searching Nikas face she followed her gaze to the Varsity list and right below Azzis name was hers. Wait Paige’s eyes shot back to the list, below Azzis name. Azzi. She turned to face Azzi who obviously was lost in her own world and had not caught up with what was going on.

Paige’s body moved faster than her mind and within seconds she knocked Azzi to the floor and their friends had followed suit!

[eventheodds]

The gamut of emotions she is experiencing are similar to when she first set out on her field assignment with Roberto. It feels like ages since that day, running into Vash when he’d been hanging upside down, courtesy of bandits, but memorable enough that she can clearly picture every moment from that day with the utmost clarity.

There are…others, as well, that come to mind, but Meryl does her best to focus on the positives.

She barely registers Knives’s warning about bringing a flashlight and with as many spare batteries as she can carry—and the very obvious threat of not wandering off where humans have seldom gone; if they’ve even gone there before.

Her experience being underground, even inside a giant worm, still counts and is not something she wants to repeat. Under any circumstance.

The reality of what they’re about to do makes her halt in her tracks as she composes herself, nearly forgetting the company she is with, and those memories make her snap to when she remembers that long tendril whip made of sharp blades that could have easily turned her into ribbons. 

“O-of course! I’ll keep it to myself!”

Not that she has anyone to talk to. The Bernardelli news agency has been feeling a little hostile towards her lately and Meryl is being careful where she treads. There’s been things going on that don’t quite add up—not like they are supposed to, and she’s being careful where she digs.

At the mention of Nicholas’s moniker, Meryl stops in her tracks like she’s been hit with a compulsion to remain frozen in place. 

They had said their goodbyes when it was decided that Home would be where they would part ways. 

“I…I don’t know where he is, actually. So, there’s really no point.”

Meryl grits her teeth at the slight tremble in her voice—not because she misses the Undertaker—well…that’s not entirely true but she refuses to admit it—but it is more so of the fact that she doesn’t have anyone she can really talk to. Vash can’t be found; Roberto is dead; Nicholas is…well, she doesn’t know where he is and she’s not about to start looking.

However, that doesn’t mean she’s about to let go of him entirely.

“I’ll need about a day to figure out how I’m gonna pack what I need,” she says, relieved that he’s not demanding they depart right away. It would make sense for him to find someone to look after the farm while he’s gone. “Well, I better get started…”

She gives one last look towards Knives, like she’s waiting for him to change his mind; when it’s clear he is not going to, Meryl books it and the first place she goes to is the nearest saloon. Out of breath, she reaches the counter, she procures a piece of paper from her notebook and a pen that can barely write but this may be its last note it will ever write before the ink completely dries out.

Despite the urgency, Meryl is careful to write clearly, and to not give too much information away. If there is one person who should know about her whereabouts, it has to be Nicholas.

To Nicholas,

Travelling far on the other side, with sharp company. Safe and doing okay. Can’t call you, no signal down here. Haven’t stopped looking. Hope you haven’t, either.

-Meryl Stryfe

She signals for the barkeep and hands him the note and gives a description of what Nicholas looks like. If he’s not changed since, she’ll expect he’s still carrying around that giant cross and looking as disheveled as ever.

Before she knows it, she’s meeting Knives back at the designated spot, a pack ready of what she considers essential to bring, and feels more nervous than excited at this point. 

“Just promise me there won’t be any need to get swallowed up by a giant worm. I’ve already done that and am not a fan. Not a fan at all.”

"Home won't be much use. I said no one's seen them in a century, didn't I?" And the fleet had, of course, been rather busy trying to save themselves. None of the surviving ships would have had anywhere near the time to grab coordinates for the other falling ships when they barely managed to save themselves. And then they'd had to rebuild and survival was more important than looking for lost ships where none had survived.

"If you want coordinates you're gonna need a bug." That is how Knives knew where they were, after all. He considers, contemplates who would care for the farm if he left it behind. Someone in town, if given instructions... Another moment of thought, before Knives sighs. "We'll leave after I arrange someone to care for the farm." He's put a lot of work into this place, he isn't going to leave it to die without some sort of supervision. "I suggest getting yourself a working flashlight and as many batteries as you can shove into your pack." A mental apology to Zazie, who was definitely going to complain at him, later.

"You will not discuss our travel methods with anyone else." It's not a request, an edge of danger curling around the words in a way that's been absent in their conversations so far. "I won't have your kind invading down there."

If he's honest she's probably going to want to pack for a fairly long trip. The lack of a road beneath the sands means no truck, and Knives is already making a mental map of the tunnels he knows and where each of them may pass towns they can resupply at. The trouble, he figures, is going to be once they pass the invisible boundary of human settlement into the true wilds where no humans have set up camp. There won't be any towns to resupply out there, and they can only carry so much at once...

He glances down at his hands, frowning. How much can he create, if he regulates properly? Would it be worth it when they could find a way to carry more supplies? Perhaps Zazie–but no, he doesn't want to make Zazie play pack bug either. Knives drags a dirty hand through his hair, scowling as he watches the reporter stumble around like a newborn tomas just finding its legs. She looks ridiculous–maybe that's what Vash sees.

"This isn't going to be a short trip so you better say your farewells to Punisher before you go."

[wernerherzogs]

train wasn't delayed more than usual AND i got a pretty girl's luggage off the train for her... 10/10 polish railway experience