#thanks for following! I’m excited to start

[lovieku]

TRUE LOVE ⋆ 정국

when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.

⋆⁺₊❅. 5/6 from christmas & chill

pairing tattoo artist!jk x fem reader

genre fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l

warnings jk 24 | oc 24, jk thinks he’s too cool for love, oc suffers from a chronic case of “i can fix him”, she eventually does, oc simps HARDDD and jk only pretends to be unaffected, yea he’s a bit of a dick sometimes but he’s also Very funny, brief description of panic attacks, male masturbation, kissing, idk what else to add i just rly rly love them and will think of them for the entirety of xmas season

word count 10.2k

author’s note hi lovies 🩷 it’s my last time with c&c 🙁 i’m kinda emotional omg… it’s been such a fun, warm and lovely week, and i love each one of you for showing endless support to this project <33 i’ll keep trying to not disappoint… please tell me if you like this!!! thank u always and always 🩷 luv u <3

banner by the gorgeous @awrkive ⊹₊⟡⋆

On the first day of December, your path crosses with thee Jeon Jeongguk’s after enough years for your brain to trip slightly before recognising him. But it would have been impossible not to—there’s likely a whole, well-preserved section of your thinking organ dedicated to that mortifying phase of high school, when your hormones turned life into an endless internal tug-of-war.

The moment your eyes widen at having him stand in front of you, you’re yanked unceremoniously into the past, brought back to buried, locked and left to gather dust feelings that have your teenage self’s screams echoing within you in a chorus of delight and cringe.

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is simply following his duties as a tattoo artist. When he catches sight of you next to his appointed client on such a breezy day, the cold December air starting to find its space even in the confines of his studio, he only nods his chin upward at you in slow recognition.

It’s awkward, at first. Only because you make it.

You’d volunteered to accompany Eunbi, your best friend, to get her first tattoo as an early Christmas self-gift. Your mission was clear: support her, hold her hand if the pain became unbearable (though you’re probably the least dependable person when it comes to making clarity in situations of panic, as seen right now), and be the first to bask in her excitement as she finally sees what she’s always pictured to be inked on the skin of her forearm. A blue whale tattoo, large enough to make you wince just thinking about the needlework.

You’d never go through something like that. Never.

And that’s exactly what’s showing on your face when you’re met with Jeongguk’s full sleeve of tattoos, leaving you rooted to the spot.

You’d always known him to be the different kid, the quiet one with forced sharp eyes that canonically listened to alternative rock and glared at anyone who dared approach, whether to tease him or befriend him. He’d convinced himself that no one could ever understand him.

See, you’d instead fooled yourself into thinking you were the exception. That you did understand him.

Fourteen-year-old you had gone through some weird phases, and the one that resurfaces now at the vision of his adult self is the one centered entirely around him. You unashamedly had the biggest crush on Jeongguk. To you, he was mysterious and edgy—in an effortlessly cool way.

You’d tried everything. Offered him your lunch more times than you were left with any for yourself. Even cut your bangs to have them fall over your eyes to mimic his fringe, dyed a strand in blue, overhauled your wardrobe to align with his back-and-grey one. None of it worked. He never noticed.

But, thinking of it now, there’s no way he didn't. He definitely did. How could any boy turn a blind eye to a lovesick girl’s heartfelt Valentine’s letter, a hopeless romantic girl who almost cried on the spot when she got rejected? Jeongguk just chose to willingly ignore it.

These are all valid reasons as to why your functions seem to slow down in his unexpected presence. And you’re not going to deny nor fake that his calm, almost detached demeanor doesn’t flow through your body and right to your left eye, making it twitch with a slight tremor.

Yet, you must also admit that your teenage self was onto something. Jeongguk has changed drastically but he’s also stayed the same. You think fourteen-year-old him would be proud of where he is right now. Two piercings on his lower lip and one on his eyebrow, intricate ink tracing up his muscled arm, his… muscled arms. Wow. And then, his studio. His own studio, a place for him and his passion, one that he made into his job. That’s undeniably cool.

Maybe just not cool enough for you to be gaping like an idiot as he moves with purpose, adjusting your friend’s arm to position the stencil he had prepared, perfectly fitting in the space she had chosen. His muscles flex with every shift, and it’s impossible for you to go past that with the way the black beater he’s wearing is loose on his torso, but still clinging on his chest.

Eunbi notices, of course. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed and in return she doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when your usual chatter dries up entirely, only gulping obnoxiously noisily and alternating that with nervous silences. Jeongguk, too, catches on.

He’d always known you as obnoxious and noisy. In, huh, a good way. Or whatever.

Jeongguk just agrees that you were (and probably still are, if the pastel yellow skirt softly flowing down your legs paired with a cozy cream sweater and the full toothed grin you shoot at your friend are any indicators) the pinpoint embodiment of his opposite. You’ve always been talkative, smiley, and friendly, eager to help and to receive help, not in the slightest ever turning down the opportunity to blabber on, and on, and on.

Honestly, Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever truly listened to a single word of your rambling back in the day, especially during those times when you’d bounce up to him and launch into enthusiastic rants about obscure alternative bands he himself hadn’t even heard of. He respected the hustle, though. He’d always wondered where you found the time and energy to immerse yourself in music like that.

He much preferred when you were less trying so hard to be him and mirror his tastes, more when you gave up on impressing him and simply stayed true to yourself, the girl whose heart belonged to Justin Bieber and One Direction. Truthfully, he fucked with them. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. His quiet, brooding image wouldn’t survive that revelation.

What he respected the most was your resilience. After all the times he rejected you and your awkward blurts of confessions, you still didn’t think it was enough of a reason for your villain origin story to take off, and instead remained the same frustratingly positive ray of sunshine you’d always been.

Now, as Jeongguk works on the tattoo in front of him, the very design that caused all these long-buried memories to rise back, his dark eyes flick toward you sitting on a stool in a near corner every now and then, a hint of confusion in his expression each time you take more than five seconds to reply to his small talk.

It’s just, you’re a bit taken aback. Since when does he do small talk? The foreign smoothness with which Jeongguk handles interactions is so far removed from the sullen boy you used to know. You’re not prepared for this version of him. It’s disarming, to say the least.

Enough time has passed for you to settle into the odd scenario, your current best friend and your long-standing high school crush in the same room. Slowly but surely, your curiosity sparkles again, and the signature tendency to let thoughts tumble out of your mouth unchecked returns to you naturally.

“Ouch, that looks painful.”

Jeongguk snorts, eyes trained on Eunbi’s arm as he glides the tattoo needle with precise strokes that have his brows pinching and the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips, a habit you remember from the past but one you’ve never found quite so distracting before.

Still, he multitasks and responds without missing a beat, “Wanna try?”

Wow. This is, like, the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. It spurs you on to do anything it takes to hear more of his voice, the sound of it definitely deeper than the shy tones you struggled to coax out of him ten years ago.

That is probably why you literally lie, “Hm. Maybe. I was thinking of getting one actually. In the future.”

Eunbi chokes on her spit, her chest coughing with the sudden, blatantly fake revelation, and Jeongguk promptly pauses, lifting the needle from her skin as his tattooist reflexes kick in. While your friend apologizes between a clearing of her throat and sinks back into the chair, she doesn’t keep from glaring at you, her expression screaming What the hell are you doing?

You deadpan. You’ll explain everything later and it’ll all make sense. And you know this will inevitably end up being added to the list of the many embarrassing facts she knows about you and threatens you with when she wants to go clubbing and you don’t.

Jeongguk uses the brief interruption to glance up at where you’re perched in the corner of his peripheral vision, just to square you up and down with a skeptical arch of his brow, “Really?”

You scoff, smoothing out the creases on your skirt as if the fabric is somehow responsible for the lie you just told, “Is that shocking?”

He hums, returning to his work with the buzz of the needle filling the studio again, his voice padded the more he gets closer to Eunbi’s forearm, “I just find it hard to believe such a princess like you could handle any pain.”

You gulp.

What you’re getting from this conversation is that Jeongguk has always had an idea of who you are in his mind all along. That he’s always perceived you in some way. As much as your inner fourteen-year-old is swooning at the attention, gobbling up each of the tiny crumbles he’s giving you, it doesn’t sit right with you. What exactly does he think of you?

“Test me.”

He shrugs, eyes fixated on the shade he’s perfectioning with black ink, “Busy now.”

“I’ll go pay for mine. I saw you have one last free spot today,” you announce, the words tumbling out with more confidence than you feel. You’re already on your feet before the sentence is fully formed, betraying the fact that your nosy tendencies had gotten the better of you earlier. You’d discreetly glanced at his appointment book when Jeongguk and Eunbi were finalizing her tattoo details and negotiating the final price at the desk.

He hums, head tilting slightly, “And I wanted to spend it bumming around.”

“Too bad. You’ll have to postpone that.”

You walked into this studio swearing you’d never let a needle even brush you.

Now you’re stretched out on a leather bench, Jeongguk leaning over you with a stencil in hand, gloved fingers moving with careful precision.

The design you’d chosen came from his portfolio—a delicate illustration of two butterflies in motion, their soft threads intertwining. You’d flipped through countless pages of bold skulls and intricate linework before settling on this.

The spot you’d chosen for the tattoo was the flat, firm plane between your breasts. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just a place you’d always liked. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that nature hadn’t exactly blessed you in the cleavage department. Subconsciously, perhaps, you thought that adding something there might give the illusion of more.

“Tehe,” you can’t stop the breathy giggle that escapes as the cool paper brushes against your skin. Your hand is pressed to your bra, holding it in place as best you can, though the situation feels so surreal it’s hard to focus on anything but the ridiculousness of it all.

Jeongguk glances up at you with a glare that’s more exasperated than angry before returning to the delicate task at hand, “What’s funny?”

Your voice wobbles, “I just— I tend to laugh during serious moments.”

“Oh. Weird.”

“Sorry.”

With a small sigh, he smooths the stencil, and once it’s transferred he hands you a square mirror, waiting for your approval. You nod, the butterflies now perfectly poised in their eternal dance, and Jeongguk doesn’t waste a moment.

The buzz of the needle fills the room as he leans closer, one gloved hand resting on the upper part of your chest to steady himself. He’s mere seconds from beginning the inking process when another laugh bubbles out of you.

Jeongguk sits back abruptly, dropping his pen onto the metal tray with an audible clink. Tilting his head, he levels you with a look of thinly veiled irritation. “I really can’t work if your chest keeps moving.”

“Sorry,” you blurt again, turning your head to face the wall. You clamp your lips together tightly, mentally scrolling through every sad memory you can conjure. Think of something awful. Your childhood dog dying. Okay, maybe not that sad—

“You haven’t changed a bit since high school. Always smiling like you live surrounded by flowers and rainbows,” Jeongguk’s mutter vibrates against your chest, warm breath fanning over the cold skin, distracting you from your no-giggling mission.

The unexpected observation has your brows furrowing in a mildly offended frown, and banter is ready on your tongue. “You’re just the same too, Gguk. The emo boy who thinks he’s too cool for a smile.”

“I’m not an emo boy. The fuck,” he scoffs, kissing his teeth and murmuring more of his indignation under his breath.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night. I can teach you.”

The whirring needle glides across your skin with a slightly firmer touch, making you hiss softly under your breath. He seems unbothered by the reaction, and instead bothered by your words, “Teach me what.”

“How to smile a bit more,” you reply, your voice laced with mockery as you keep your gaze firmly fixed on the wall. The smirk playing on your lips is triumphant; he walked right into your little jab, hehe.

Your mind is already racing, piecing together the beginning of a sarcastic rant about how his perpetual scowl probably contributed to his mysterious high school persona. For the sake of his ego, you won’t add how it worked in his favor, how more than one girl (your own self) found his untouchable vibe completely irresistible.

Even though, thinking back, he looked ridiculous. His big, round, slightly scared-of-the-world eyes truly didn’t belong with the heavy black eyeliner.

But before you can get a single word out, Jeongguk straightens his posture, pulling away from your chest. With a practiced motion, he tosses one of his gloves onto the counter behind him, his expression cool and indifferent. “It’s done.”

“Done?!” you exclaim, tilting your chin down to look at your chest. You go slightly cross-eyed trying to catch a glimpse of the design now inked onto your skin. Forever.

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even feel it.”

Jeongguk seems equally done with small talk, transitioning into a professional explanation of the tattoo’s aftercare step. His tone is calm but clipped, and you can’t tell if it’s his usual demeanor or just reserved for you. He also hands you a small tube of cream of which you’re not sure the use of, too enthralled by the vision of his colored sleeve this up close.

And still laying on the leather bed, you almost reach to trace one of the many lines with your finger before he interrupts, “You can pay with Yoongi at the entrance.”

Clearing your throat, you sit up, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt as Jeongguk turns his back to you, his focus already back on cleaning his tools. You still are not over, “Thank you, Jeongguk. Can I— huh. Can I get your number?”

He pauses mid-motion, just long enough for the silence to stretch thin and taut. Turning around to study your features, he stares you up and down with knitted brows and a hostile kind of confusion painting his expression. “… For what exactly?”

“In case anything happens with the tattoo.”

Jeongguk stills for a second, eyes narrowing slightly, then turns back to what’s keeping him so occupied with a noncommittal grunt, “Huh. Sure. Yoongi has my business cards at the desk. You can ask him. Have a good day.”

With Eunbi practically dragging you out of the room, you don’t have the chance to say anything more, though your chest burns with indignation. It’s not that you expect him to fall over himself at the chance to catch up, but the sheer indifference is maddening.

Should you pretend you don’t care either? You could. But really, who are you fooling? You still have those old diaries buried somewhere in your closet, their pages crammed with his name written in looping, lovesick cursive. That little girl in you never truly died.

On the fourth day of December, you finally text him. It’s about your tattoo, of course. There’s not much else to say to him, but when his only reply to your picture of the healing process is a yellow thumbs up, you find your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Words start forming before you’ve fully processed them, and before you know it, you hit send.

You [3:39 p.m]: btw u still friends with kim tae?

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: Yes

jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: He’s my best friend

You [3:43 p.m.]: ohhh, cool

jeongguk [3:45 p.m.]: You want his number?

You [3:46 p.m.]: no… i’m good with yours ☺️

You can’t help but giggle at how his typing bubbles appear and then fade for a whole minute, biting your lower lip with a sheepish grin, savoring the silent victory. You’re doing this for your fourteen-year-old self, who would’ve squealed at the thought of making Jeon Jeongguk flustered. But you’re a different girl now. You’ve changed. No man could ever reject—

jeongguk [3:48 p.m.]: If there’s nothing else about the tattoo then 👋

“Hmph,” your frown is so pronounced that you feel your chin aching and your wrinkles prematurely deepening. Well, this is not the first time you come face first with his sour antics. Only now, you’re prepared.

You [3:48 p.m.]: yall hanging out soon? let me join

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: Why lol

jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: He barely even remembers you probs

You [3:50 p.m.]: who would not remember me

jeongguk [3:50 p.m.]: The only thing i’m now remembering about you is how I couldn’t stand your ass

You gasp, hand coming up to brush against your parted lips. With a huff, you hastily click at your keyboard, “Mean. Sent. Ugh.”

On the sixth day of December, your persistence pays off, and you find yourself at a random bar you’d never been to before, seated with both Jeongguk and Taehyung.

Between Jeongguk’s cigarette breaks—forcing the three of you to brave the cold outside—and brief moments in corners of the cramped place where the music feels muffled against the walls, you manage to catch up with Taehyung. The rest of the time though, the noise inside is so deafening that it makes any kind of meaningful conversation impossible.

Even more when a random girl slides into the booth next to him, capturing his attention entirely, leaving you and Jeongguk in paradoxical silence.

The tattoo artist has been glued to his phone with his head down for the last 20 minutes, and now you alternate between observing his side profile, roughened by the piercings and a more defined jawline, and analysing the weird dynamic that is beginning to form between Taehyung and the girl, sitting in front of you.

Alone with your thoughts and, well, the pulsating music, you feel yourself getting unreasonably closer to symptoms you know all too well, that threaten to have you spiraling. You shake your head, forcing it to stop. There’s no reason for anxiety to visit you at such an inconvenient time.

But of course, the little voice in your head starts listing all the totally valid motives why this is indeed the perfect time for it to visit you.

The bar feels suffocating on your skin.

Your dress clings too tightly.

The couple facing you is shamelessly close to making out.

Jeongguk sighs in visible boredom.

You shouldn’t have come. Hell, you shouldn't have suggested it in the first place. A smarter version of yourself would have brought Eunbi for balance, for comfort. But in your foolishness, you thought this could be an opportunity for you and Jeongguk to catch up. Instead, you feel foreign to him, foreign to this pub booth, and the air begins to feel foreign to your lungs. You’ve never liked bars, clubs, or places with loud music.

You sniffle, looking down at your lap. Then up at the ceiling. Then around the room. It keeps spinning and booming with volume that only adds to the feeling of helplessness. Quick, quick, quick.

What are five things that you can see?

Five. Your gaze falls on Taehyung and the girl, their lips and tongues clumsily entangled as they laugh between sloppy kisses. No help there. The air catches harder in your throat.

Four. Your empty glass, its smudged rim a reminder of the single drink you had, now sitting uncomfortably in your stomach.

Three. Your scuffed heels, their tips worn to the nub despite your best efforts to hide it with a marker.

Two. The swirling lights above the bar, dizzying as they flash brighter and brighter.

One. Jeongguk’s tattooed hand on your thigh.

His fingers dig into the skin, shaking you alarmedly, with a force you’ve never known from him, not even when it came to stopping your shaking stomach as you were laying on the studio’s leather bed.

Head snapping up to face him, you’re met with a perfect resemblance of how you must look right now. Wide eyes, knitted brows, nose flaring and exhaling, and you try to follow the movements of his mouth, but they jumble together annoyingly in your brain. You lean closer, narrowed orbs still fixated on his lips to try and read them. Are… you… ok—

“___, you’re scaring me. Hey, hello? Are you okay?”

Jeongguk moves from your thigh to your shoulders, jolting you gently but firmly from the fog that is threatening to cloud up your brain. The sudden clarity hits you, but you still stumble forward, your weight toppling over his chest. With it, your head dips rapidly, hurtling toward the sharp edge of the table, and before Jeongguk knows it his instinct snaps and he catches you promptly.

The next steps blur together. You vaguely register the boy next to you standing up and pulling you along with him, his broad shoulders supporting one of your arms while his inked one secures around the small of your waist, holding you firmly against him.

Then, it’s nothing but brief flashes. Jeongguk pressing a water bottle to your lips. Sitting you down on the stairs outside the pub. Holding your hair back as you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach onto the pavement. Cracking a smile to make you laugh, showing off his tattoos in exaggerated detail like it’s the grandest tour of your life. Opening the door to his car and gently easing you into the passenger seat, ensuring the seatbelt clicks into place.

Inside his car, you slowly feel your senses come back to you.

At a redlight that you recognise as the one near your apartment complex, you muster a small and hoarse thank you. Jeongguk only hums low, eyes fixated on the road and fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.

Before a sheepish smile can make its way on your lips and spread across your face, your head twitches back as your brows furrow. Your thoughts suddenly catch up with you, “Hey, how do you know the way to my flat?”

His gaze briefly flicks toward you in annoyance, then back to the road. “You literally just told me.”

“Oh.” A beat passes before you giggle softly. “Don’t remember.”

Jeongguk mutters something intelligible under his breath, and next thing you know he’s turning down your street and slowing in front of the building that matches the number you gave him. Given your current state, he begins to question if that is even the right one.

“This one!” You point at the tall front gate with an almost childlike excitement, back shifting slightly from the seat as your grin stretches wide. Jeongguk grimaces. Why the fuck do you look like you’ve been reuinted with your home after years apart, as if you weren’t there just a couple hours ago?

“Right. Huh, you good with going back on your own?”

“Yes. I’d hate to bother you further. I’m sorry for this, I… was getting better, I guess.”

The sad confession doesn’t land with the weight it should, softened by the smile painted on your lips and the chuckle you let out as if it were nothing. Jeongguk’s eyelid twitches, unsettled by the unnecessary happiness that always seems to drip from you, even when it doesn’t belong.

“‘S okay. Have a good night,” he awkwardly bows his head, waiting for you to exit the car. When you stay still, he clears his throat, adding just to fill the silence, and perhaps because he means it, “Huh, and make sure to rest a lot.”

You take a moment, maybe longer than you should, to study his features up this close. You particularly fixate on the way his eyes dart everywhere but never land on yours. Then, with your signature toothy grin, you bow back and open the car door, leaving with a string of thank yous, and get home safe, and I’ll text you, and please, reply to me, and bye.

Jeongguk has to fight a smile of his own.

On the tenth day of December, you realise you want him. Even more badly than your fourteen-year-old self ever did. Which is frankly insane.

You don’t know if it was the natural way he looked after you during your episode, or his dry sarcasm as he actually started replying to your random updates throughout the day.

But no, it was definitely the selfie he sent you after what he said was a long day. Messy hair, tired eyes, a hint of a smile. You’d struggled to even gulp down your saliva when the picture popped up in your chat, and maniacally stared at it with eyes glued to the bright screen before sending one of your own. He had replied with Cute. followed by Your hair pin is cute.

That is why you find yourself facing… Yoongi? If you remember correctly. The guy at the front desk of Jeongguk’s studio.

You beam at him, and what you’re met with instead is a confused stare. You inhale, “Hi. Is Jeongguk in?”

Yoongi scratches his head, muttering, “He’s busy with a client.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” you wave off his concern. “Can I wait here?”

The boy hesitates, looks unsure the more your interaction develops, and he glances between you and the empty waiting area. He relents with furrowed brows, “Sure… Huh, It’s a back tattoo, so it’ll take him a while.”

You shrug and plop yourself onto the leather sofa, seemingly unfazed, “I like waiting.”

Crossing your legs, you take in the studio’s atmosphere, eyes drifting to the dark walls lined with framed artwork and certificates. You spot Jeongguk’s name on many of those.

For the next fifteen minutes, you try distracting yourself by flipping through the stack of tattoo magazines on the coffee table. You wince at inked heads, faces, butts, and even… more private parts. Deciding this world is definitely not for you, you slam the book shut.

By the time an hour passes, you’re fighting a battle with your lack of sleep. The third yawn you manage to stifle, but the fourth escapes before you can stop it. Yoongi, seated at the desk, doesn’t bother hiding his unimpressed stare. Still, he’s polite enough to offer you a glass of water, a coffee, or even a chance to join him for a cigarette break.

You decline all of it, though your throat does feel dry.

Maybe you should have planned this with a bit of rationality. Or at least gotten more sleep. Now, your every blink is slower, eyelids batting to shut and taking longer to flutter open again. Hm, this feels nice. You’ll just let them rest for a bit longer. And longer. And a bit more.

The next time you open your eyes, Jeongguk’s face is inches away, his warm hand resting firmly on your arm. You jolt upright with a startled yelp.

���Jeongguk.”

He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in an unmistakably mocking smirk. “Hey. You don’t have a bed?”

You sit up, forcing Jeongguk to step back and straighten to his full height. Your neck cranes upward to glare at him, brows furrowed in what you hope is an intimidating glare, though you sport a pout that is all but menacing, “Shut up.”

He clicks his tongue, turning back to round the desk and fiddle with the appointment book, clearly unbothered. You take the moment to rub your eyes—only to remember, too late, that you’d worn makeup. A quick glance around reveals how much has changed since you last let your eyelids flutter open. The lights in the studio are dim, the hallway is dark, and every door is shut. Yoongi is nowhere in sight. It’s just the two of you in the deathly quiet space.

You gasp, pressing a hand to your parted lips, “Did I fall asleep? I'm so sorry. I was probably really tired from yesterday.”

Jeongguk hums, focus still locked on the book in front of him, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t ask why you came here in the first place, and doesn’t acknowledge your apology. Ugh. This is humiliating.

Before you can stand, you feel something heavy draped over your body. It’s a jacket. Definitely not yours, since you never took it off. At least not consciously. No, this is a worn black leather one on which his scent lingers. You tug it closer, puzzled, and then look up at him, holding it out. “Did I steal this in my sleep?”

Jeongguk scrunches his nose, “Ew, are you a sleepwalker?” Locking the till, he strolls over to you and plucks the jacket from you, casually slipping it on. “No, I put it on you. Wanted to see how long someone could feel safe enough to pass out in my studio. Thinking of turning this place into a daycare. I’ll have you play in the morning, get some lunch, nap time...”

There’s a beat of silence in which his sarcasm lingers in the air, and you stare at him, unamused. He shrugs, smirk unwavering.

You huff, “I regret coming here.”

“Yeah, why did you come here?”

Smoothing down your pink wool sweater, you stand up to stretch with zero shame. Then, fluttering your lashes at him, you assert with a smile, “You’re coming with me to the Christmas markets. This Sunday.”

Jeongguk groans like the idea physically pains him, “Oh, I would fucking hate that.”

Ignoring him, you zip up your puffer jacket and rock on your toes, “Pick me up at seven, okay?”

He glares, unimpressed at your excitement, before heading toward the entrance and pulling a hefty set of keys from his pocket, “I don’t even remember where you live.”

You hurry after him, following him outside and shuffling closer in your coat at the cold air hitting you. Watching as he locks the door and pulls down the rolling shutter with its red-and-black skull graffiti, you chirp, “You’ll have to text me for that.”

Jeongguk rises up again, giving you a slow once-over. He seems distracted by your hair before snorting, “You’re talking like I’m the one who spent their afternoon napping in my studio just to drop this bomb and leave. Couldn’t you just text me this?”

You shrug innocently. He sighs, reaching out for you, “Do you need a ride hom—”

“Bye!”

You spin on your heel and skip off in the opposite direction before he can let his own greeting out, waving a gloved hand behind you. Jeongguk stays where he is, arm still held out.

Do you even have a car? He hopes so—it’s freezing out.

With another sigh, he shakes his head and tugs his jacket tighter around himself. Why are you so fucking weird?

On the fourteenth day of December, your arm is looped tightly through Jeongguk’s as you stroll through the Christmas markets, burying your face further in your scarf to shield against the icy air, and with each few step you gasp at things that the boy next to you finds utterly unimpressive.

You stop at nearly every stand, eyes glowing with the warm Christmas fairy lights strung all around, effortlessly picking up conversations with the vendors and melting even the most stoic faces with the scrunching of your nose at every grin and the exaggerated nods following descriptions of their crafts.

Through all of it, Jeongguk remains put at your side, his arm linked with yours and a subtle pout on his lips. When you tease him about it, he simply shrugs, and you figure it’s just his natural expression. You find that oddly endearing.

He still humors your enthusiasm, offering low hums or murmured praise whenever you exclaim you’ve finally found what you’ve been searching for everywhere, and he offers to pay every time, the gesture so casual that he doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.

When you bow to the nth seller, clutching yet another bag of sweet treats tightly to your chest, Jeongguk exhales and resumes slow walking beside you, “I don't like these places.”

You glance up at him, fluffy hat almost slipping off before he promptly secures it back on your head with a gesture so smooth you hardly notice it. You instead wonder, “Then why are we here now?”

He slips his hand into his pocket, “Because you threatened me.”

“With a really good time.”

“If this is your version of a good time, you might as well kick me in the balls. That probably feels better.”

You gasp, halting in your tracks to glare at him. When he lets a small chuckle topple out of him, you think you might forgive him. No, you’re more than sure with the way his smile lingers. You sheepishly look away, muttering, “Don’t tempt me, emo boy.”

“I’m not—”

“Oh yes, you are,” you interrupt, snapping your face back to his. Clearing your throat, you prepare your best imitation of him, exaggerating a frown and lowering your voice, “I’m so different, I hate Christmas.”

Jeongguk scoffs, pulling you tighter to him when a scooter unexpectedly zips past you. You yelp, instinctively shuffling closer to his arm. He continues the conversation casually, unaffected, “That’s the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard. And also, I never said that.”

Releasing the breath you held for a moment too long, you uncertainly keep your slow stroll going, only narrowing your orbs at him, “It’s written all over your face.”

“I love Christmas.”

The admission is small, his voice soft and almost reluctant, like it pains him to reveal something so simple and obvious as loving Christmas. When you lean your chin on the puffed arm of his jacket, he doesn’t look down at you, his gaze fixed ahead, guiding the two of you through the chaos of the busy street.

You chirp, your steps stumbling, “Really?

Only then he shifts his attention to you, steadying you with his other arm wrapping around your figure in what seems like a hug, before he lifts you up by the neck of your coat and retreats just enough to face you. His lips press into a straight line as he nods, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes the more he stares in yours, “Yeah, really. I just don’t like… crowded spaces.”

You can’t help but think back to what happened just a week ago. The exact reason why the spirals in your brain wouldn’t stop twisting and tangling is now slipping from his lips in a voice that quietens as he seems to grasp the delicacy of his own confession.

He doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him. Drawn-up brows over wide and sparkling eyes—the only part of your face visible beneath your scarf—stare at him with something too tender, too focused, that makes him uneasy. He turns his head to the side, the tips of his ears red not only from the cold, and pulls you along toward another stand, an almost nervous distraction.

It’s your turn to frown. Maybe the one that’s permanently plastered on his face tonight isn’t just a reflection of his usual sullen demeanor. With a knot tightening in your chest, you can’t help but feel like you dragged him into something he truly hated, and that he wasn’t just pretending to.

What if this isn’t just your evil inner voice talking? What if this isn’t just overthinking, but the factual truth of your current reality? He’s hating every second of this but still enduring it because— you catch your breath with a long and strained inhale, because—

“Hey, dimples. You okay?”

Jeongguk moves to stand in front of you, his hands settling gently on your shoulders, a stance eerily reminiscent of that night you were just thinking back to. He nods at you, “Breathe with me, hm?”

You find yourself quickly adjusting to his comforting aura, drawn in by the reassurance in his eyes trained on you, never wavering, watching closely as you begin to mirror the measured rise and fall of his chest, your breathing gradually syncing with his until the tightness in your chest starts to ease.

When you feel your feet touching the ground again, you offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m okay. Sorry. Just…” You quickly scan your surroundings, eyes landing on a colorful stand, “Wait here a second, okay?”

Jeongguk lets you slip away, fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He takes a few hesitant steps closer, careful not to crowd you but unable to tear his eyes away from your next actions, how your grin comes back on your lips with unpracticed ease, lighting up your face as easy talk flows between you and the seller. A few coins trade hands, and soon you’re holding two churros, their chocolate-dipped ends threatening to drip onto the ground.

You don’t hesitate, biting into one of them before it has the chance to make a mess, and with a quick nod of your head you motion for Jeongguk to follow. He does so, only after taking the churros from your hands, and letting you seek his warmth again with an arm snaking under his. He’s only letting you do this because it’s fucking cold, no other reason.

You walk, and walk, guiding him along until you find a quieter corner, away from the bustle, where you two stand isolated from the rest. The dim lighting casts a softer glow, and the distant hum of chatter and music fades into a gentle background noise.

Glancing up at him, you flash a playful smile before leaning in to bite another chunk of the churro he’s holding, your laughter spilling out as he grimaces in exaggerated disgust and pulls the sweet out of your reach. You settle onto a nearby bench, patting the empty spot beside you invitingly.

Jeongguk is unsure of what this means. He takes slow steps towards you, handing you your churro—which you take eagerly, already chewing on it—before tilting his head back in mild confusion, “But… you wanted to visit the markets.”

You shake your head, your bug eyes meeting his as you speak around a mouthful of sugar and chocolate, “There’s no point if you’re not going to enjoy it.”

The look you’re giving him is one he’s seen countless times before—familiar, and annoyingly reminiscent of ten years ago. It’s the same look that, he’s convinced, is solely responsible for making his knees weak and his fingers jittery, no longer something he can blame on the cold. You’re unbelievably frustrating.

He clicks his tongue, looking away, “You’re fucking weird.”

You giggle, humming, “If weird is a synonym for whipped, then sure.”

He has to fight the twitch of his lips. Fakes a gag instead. You chuckle louder. Only then, he hints at a smile, “C’mon. Let’s go check out some other stuff.”

“But—”

He interrupts, pulling you up by your forearm, “I’m hungry.”

The next hour you spend wandering around is made of Jeongguk’s small, imperceptible ways of cracking: his pout less prominent, more replaced by lips pulled into a tight line or in a mildly pursued scowl as you ask him which beanie looks better—the pink or purple one; his so evident sarcasm as he comments on how the old vendor was totally flirting with you, or when he mockingly adds to your over-the-top excitement every time you spot a dog. All in all, he’s more relaxed. More himself.

You then find yourself standing in front of the churros stall from earlier, the warm scent tugging you closer. Without hesitation, you ask the lady behind the counter for another four churros—this time with extra sugar. You add two thank yous.

To fill the waiting, you pick up casual conversation with the woman, until she pauses mid-sentence, wrinkled hand coming to rest over her heart as her gaze flits between you and Jeongguk, her crinkled eyes lighting with a sudden fondness and a quiet, content smile finds its space on her chapped lips, “You two look perfect together.”

Jeongguk snorts, “Oh, we’re not—”

“Thank you, auntie!” You chirp, and your grin is so wide it squeezes your eyes into crescents. You accept the first churro she hands over, biting into it and talking through it, “These are delicious. Is the recipe a secret or can you share it with me?”

The woman laughs, clearly flustered by your energy, and leans in with a conspiratorial expression, though she gives in pretty soon, “It is a secret, but… Oh, c’mon. A pretty lady like you deserves to know.”

You burst into chuckles, joined by auntie’s own rolling and carrying a contrasting warmth to the cold air. Jeongguk, for his part, stands slightly to the side, observing. You still cling to his arm, even as the vendor reaches over to gently smooth her fingers through your curls, complimenting the way they frame your face. You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation, but there’s a dimpled smile stretching on your cheeks that gives you away.

Before you leave, the lady points to Jeongguk, voice growing earnest, “You, handsome. I can see you’re a good guy, so you probably don’t need my advice. But treat her right, yes?”

Jeongguk stills for a second and stumbles over an awkward nod, managing to force a smile that has you stifling a laugh under your scarf. You tug him away with a cheerful wave to your new friend, promising her you’ll come visit again before Christmas.

Once you’re at a safe distance, he mutters, “Why did you not tell her that we’re not together?”

You tilt your head considering his question, “It’s not like she knows us. She looked like she adored you. I didn’t want to ruin that for her. Maybe seeing a young couple like us really means a lot to her.”

Jeongguk observes how the more you explain, the more you’re convincing yourself as much as him, eventually solidifying your reasoning as you nod, muttering some more under your breath. He scoffs, looking away to hide his lips twitching.

When he turns back he’s frowning, though it doesn’t quite match the way he lets you hook arms again, your pastel pink bag hanging from his shoulders. Still, he sulks as though the mere thought of your observation has him shivering, and not with the cold, “We’re not a couple.”

Jeongguk barely gets to let his unnecessarily petty comment out before you drag him with an unusual strength over to another stand, his voice not even touching your ears, “Oh, let’s go over there, Gguk!”

On the twenty-first day or December, you send him a picture of your tattoo.

You had been talking non-stop ever since your… date? Or was it just a hangout? Whatever it was, it’s been a week, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling at a fucking screen too many times a day for his linking. It’s irritating. Even brings his phone with him to the bathroom in case you text him. Not because he cares. No, it’s practical. What if you ever had an emergency and he was the only one who could help?

Most of the time it’s just you sending TikToks, but he clicks on the links with the same urgency he’d reply to a genuine plea for help. He doesn’t really want to think of the reason why.

Now, this picture—it catches Jeongguk off guard.

It doesn’t even look like it’s about the tattoo. Not really. It feels like an excuse, a flimsy pretext for you to show yourself to him. The tattoo—the one he himself inked—is there, yes. But it’s not at all the main focus of the photo that tightens his grip on his phone.

You’re wearing a thin, pink tank top with delicate lace trim, the straps barely clinging to your shoulders. Your fingers hook under the neckline, tugging it down just enough to expose the tattoo nestled between the soft curve of your breasts. The angle of the shot is deliberate, he can tell. Your back arches slightly off what he assumes is your bed, and your face is cropped out, save for your glossed lips, full and slightly parted, catching the dim light.

Jeongguk blinks, hard. Then again. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, the low light of his phone screen doing little to soften the image burning itself into his mind. His eyes dart upward, scanning his surroundings, just to make sure everything is in place. The shop is empty, the door is closed, the hum of quiet settles over the space.

Looking down, the picture still stares back at him paired with a single message.

Annoying [11:39 p.m.]: do you think it’s healed? idk about this stuff, need your help 🥺

He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what this is. He alternates between the photo and your words, jaw ticking and tightening more with the seconds flowing.

It’s almost cruel, the way you’re testing him like this. He tries to push the feeling down, to reject the buzz of heat pooling low in his stomach. You know him well enough to be aware that he won’t reply to something like this. A stupid, unnecessary message. The tattoo is healed—he told you that a week ago, clear as day. There’s no reason for you to ask again.

What’s the purpose of this?

He gets a distorted idea when he shifts uncomfortably in place, the dull ache tightening his pants almost unbearable now.

Jeongguk groans and locks his phone, tossing it onto the counter as if that will put an end to this. He tries to refocus on his tasks, the last ones before he clocks off. Cleaning needles, tossing used stencils.

But his heavy balls keep sending desperate, silent prayers to his brain, to please let them have this. Just this once.

It’s been a bad day. Two of his appointments canceled last minute, leaving him to sit around bored. The last client showed up drunk and wouldn’t stop trying to flirt with him. His coworkers were loud and distracting, and to top it all off, the heater broke, leaving the studio freezing cold.

It’s been such a bad day.

So, would there be any harm? It’s not like anyone will know. Not you, not his friends. He’s the only one that will. And he’s far more willing to live with this dirty secret rather than with his hard dick straining achingly in its confines.

Jeongguk abruptly snatches up his phone again, unlocking it to the same picture that caused him to brush the device aside just minutes ago. He lets out a shaky breath, thumb hovering over the screen. You won’t get no reply to him. But if you knew what he was up to right now, you would probably geek. Tease him, with your warm smile that digs dimples in your cheek, hopping on your toes to poke at his chest playfully, with those perfectly manicured hands of yours.

“Shit,” his free hand is already pushing the jeans down along with his boxers, and he drops his weight onto the nearest stool as he grips at the base of his thick cock, eyes devouring the image of you in the empty chat.

He doesn’t zoom in. That would feel too shameless. But he finds it oddly better like this. Is it weird that your text, so innocently worded, is turning him on? That the simple idea of you needing his help is enough to have his hips jerking?

What could you possibly need his help for? Fuck. The different ideas that pool his mind have him squeezing harder at his stinging tip.

Jeongguk focuses on your dainty hand, slim pointer finger snaking under the collar of your flimsy shirt to show yourself to him, and your small boobs spill from the sides with a delicious, soft swell. He hisses when he pictures that same hand working on him instead, his warm mouth stuffed with your stiff nipples, visible through the sheer material.

He can’t help the loud groan leaving his lips, wrist flickering up and down in a motion that feels sloppy way too soon, hips jutting up to fuck into his tight fist. Throwing his head back, he sees you even behind closed eyelids.

He pictures your delicate figure sprawled on his bed, long lashes batting up at him as you sheepishly hide with your cheek to your shoulder. Can clearly make out how you’d sit on his lap instead, unsteady breath fanning over his lips, using his long shaft to make yourself cum. The whole time, he sees the tattoo on your chest, the one that is forever on you, eternally a reminder of him.

When he lets his head topple forward again, his bright screen still stares at him, only because a new message pops up in the chat. He startles, and his cock throbs in his hand.

Annoying [11:52 p.m.]: oh, and i miss you.

“Oh, fuck,” the curse is strained through a loud whine, and only followed by more of his full moans filling the room. His brows knit as his hand moves rapidly, palm collecting the precum spreading embarrassingly fast on his tip and rolling it down his length.

He focuses on your parted lips, the soft curve of your breast, your hard nipples begging to be sucked and spit on. Your last text has flashes of your bug-like eyes staring up at him seizing his mind.

That’s what undoes him. He’s delirious as he lets out his every sound, freely, unchecked, not caring about how loud he is, whimpering as he gets closer to his climax. When he thinks of those eyes locking with his, kneeling before him, eager and willing to swallow his every drop, he cums. Hard.

Jeongguk pumps everything he can out of him, and it’s messy—spilling over his hand, staining his clothes, pooling on the floor. His chest heaves with the effort, and the sensation of abandon he feels is so pleasurable, energy drained but leaving him with a lightness that threatens to make his cock hard again.

Fuck. He can’t afford that happening if you’re not the one attending his needs. This won’t be enough, not until it’s you. He’s insatiable.

Jeongguk needs to hear your voice.

It’s an instinct, and he bends to it. He’s careful, making sure not to tap on the FaceTime option, because if you were to see him right now it’d be glaringly obvious.

When he looks to the side, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the long mirror, and he visibly grimaces at the way his cheeks are flushed, the pearls of sweat coating his forehead causing his bangs to stick uncomfortably to the skin.

Guilty doesn’t even begin to cover it.

With the phone to his ear beeping to eternity, he hesitates, contemplates ending the call before you can answer. But just then, you do.

“Jeongguk! Is everything okay?”

Your voice is familiarly soft, but there’s a trace of concern. Blinking, he brings the device closer again and gulps thickly when he can make out your panting breaths. He clears his throat and puts on his best nonchalant act, “Huh— Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know… You just never call. Or text first. This is weird. You sure you’re okay?”

Oh. Is that really what it is like?

Jeongguk never realized this was how he came across—so detached that a simple phone call feels out of character. Your naive honesty hits him square in the chest. God, he needs to get better at this. The irony stings: he just fucking jerked off to your picture and the simple thought of you, while you’re on the other side thinking he’s just a careless piece of shit who doesn’t even know how to call.

The long stretch of silence registers in his brain, and he coughs to buy time, “Yes, I’m sure. I— huh,” he thinks of stuff you usually ask to keep the conversation flowing. Not out of courtesy, but out of genuine interest, the curiosity that makes people want to open up. He’s still not used to that. Still finds it weird.

“How… How was your day?”

It must be equally weird for you because it takes you a longer beat to reply. In that quiet moment, he clenches his eyes shut and feels his jaw tick with shame. And embarrassment. And this icky feeling that makes him feel too mushy for his liking. Hell, what is he doing? He’s never been like this, he’s not supposed to be like this.

But you recover quickly, as you always do, and you smooth over the moment. Fix it all for him like you were born to be just that. Make him feel like he fits in ways that have him exhaling shakily.

Jeongguk senses a foreign drumming in his stomach, and it’s warm but odd, and he loves it but he doesn’t want to.

On the twenty-fifth day of December, cheekily under a mistletoe, Jeongguk realizes he wants you. There’s parts of him that probably knew way sooner. But the parts of him that didn’t, fighting tooth and nail to suppress the mere thought, are just now finally surrendering.

Jeongguk has always found you admirable, back in high school. You had this determination to you. Not only when it came to him. It shone particularly when you catered to others, always finding ways to help, to mend, to offer yourself with nothing less than a fully toothed smile.

But he’s also always thought you two were—and still are—too different to work. He can’t be what you want, let alone what you deserve: someone who can match your enthusiasm and unwavering smiles, your frustrating positivity; someone who sees the world the way you do. No black, no grey, no shades in between. Just bright, hopeful white. Blinding white.

It’s the white making him dizzy, shifting his perspective, having him believing the opposite of what he’s always known. Pushing to be a little more egoistical, deceiving himself that he’s right for you. Because he wants to be. He oh, so selfishly wants people to know he’s the one who finally gets to have you, the one gifted with such a light, unfairly deserving of all the love you carry into every room you walk into.

Just a few days ago, during another one of your increasingly frequent phone calls, you asked him what he was doing for Christmas. He could have lied, come up with something on the spot.

But with how you so easily, and always coax the truth out of him, he let it slip. He told you he’d be alone, words subtly heavy. But they didn’t have the chance to even drop their weight before you were already inviting him to your friend’s party, insisting that he would be the most welcome.

And he’s here, and he sits beside you, and every time you laugh you lean your weight over him, and the room vibrates with the energy you fill it with, and each one of your friends is so enamoured with you, and for reasons he can’t fully understand it fills him with a sense of pride that shouldn’t belong to him. But it does, and it comes with so many other feelings.

You don’t push him to talk. You never force him into the spotlight when he takes a step back, quietly observing, choosing to stay in the background. Because you read him like it’s in your nature to do so, your soul seems to intuitively melt with his, and it intertwines in such a tight knot that he feels it constrict his throat. He knows he’s still alive because his heart is beating, just a little faster with each time you flash your dimples at him.

“Dimples. What are you doing, hm?”

Now, he’s in front of you, a small smile on his lips as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to dangle the mistletoe over both your heads. You’re struggling just a little, your hand unable to reach high enough, and the fake plant awkwardly brushes his hair, the tickling sensation causing his nose to scrunch. You laugh.

Looking up at your swinging movements, you lose your balance for the slightest second. Jeongguk’s hands move instinctively, catching you promptly by the waist to steady your body. But even after that, he doesn’t shift, his warm palms stilling. And when you face him, he’s closer and his chest brushes against yours. From this proximity, he witnesses the Christmas lights painting a galaxy of their own in your orbs.

You beam, “What does it look like? We have to kiss now.”

Jeongguk stares in your expectant eyes, brows wiggling and all. The more his mouth keeps in a straight line, the more the wiggling slows. You eventually come down from your tiptoes, letting the mistletoe fall to the side, tilting your head.

He snorts, looking away briefly to hide an embarrassingly wide grin behind his hand. When he turns back to you, your pout is enough to have him scrambling to meet your gaze.

“On one condition, though.”

You chirp, “Yeah?”

He licks his teeth, reserving you with a smug look, “Admit that you were scared to get your tattoo.”

Your smile vanishes in an instant, your expression falling into mock offense. With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you turn on your heel, pretending to walk away from him. Pretending, only because you know he won’t let you. And you’re proven right when his fingers wrap around your arm, tugging you back with enough force to spin you into him. Suddenly, you’re pressed so close you can feel the heat radiating from him. Your chin nearly touches his chest as you glare up at him, narrowed eyes meeting the mischievous glint in his.

He bites a smile, lips twitching, “C’mon, princess. You wanted to act all tough and shit, but I could feel you shaking.”

Your scoff is loud and incredulous, “You’re such a bitch.”

He only shrugs, “You want my kiss, no?”

“Oh my god,” groaning, it’s your turn to face the side to hide a grin, “Are you always this cocky?”

His chin tilts upward slightly, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, “Say it.”

You whip back around to meet him with a seriousness he hardly ever sees on you, and you even clear your throat, channeling every ounce of the determination he knows you for, every drop of resolve that makes you you. “Yes. I was scared shitless, Jeongguk.”

Foreign excitement brims out of him, not before his eyes widen just a fraction, and his nose scrunches the more he leans closer to you, inches from you, swinging side to side with exaggerated mockery and a grin splitting his face, “See! I knew—hmph.”

There’s no other second to waste.

The condition has been met, and now all the requirements for you to claim what you were promised, your reward, are there. Even more when kissing him means catching him mid-taunt and silencing whatever teasing remark he had ready.

Your lips touch his in effortless ease, breaking the air as they press together. It’s tentative at first, almost uncertain as you feel Jeongguk remain still.

But it doesn’t take him longer to move, mouth molding against yours in a sickeningly sweet hug, tasting each other with quiet curiosity, taking your time to adjust and melt, instructing your bodies to imitate the dance.

Your arms lock around his neck, his stronger and tattooed ones circle your waist, and the way you click together feels so right, almost too perfect, so perfect it scares you. When you arch yourself further into him, even the non-existent space between you unbearable, he accompanies the motion with his wide palms gliding along your back, squeezing you into him, feeling the curve of your hips.

The soft whine that scratches your throat and vibrates against his lips betrays you, along with the useless effort to contain the intensity of what you’re feeling. The emotion disarms you, the sound gasping in your chest, but in Jeongguk’s arms it feels safe to let go.

On Christmas day, you crown a youthful fantasy, the kind you’ll look back to even when you’re older. Jeongguk feels like he’d be the right person to stand by you to do so.

When he reluctantly detaches from you, his face keeps at a safe distance that’d allow him to go back and taste you, not before resting his forehead on yours and whispering, “Merry Christmas.”

You giggle. “Merry Christmas, Gguk.”

[13hoax]

holiday shopping with bf!matt ⋆ ⁺₊❆ . [ wc: 685 ]

౨ৎ facing the foggy window, you wipe away just enough to watch matt slowly approaching the car. when the door opens, you’re met with an icy breeze paired with matt’s face flushed pink from the cold.

“thank you, for making the brave sacrifice of warming the car up,” he says while rubbing his hands together, trying to gather any source of warmth.

“yeah, you owe me. it’s freezing out here, even with the heat on full blast,” you reply with short laughter.

matt promptly starts the car and reverses unsteadily, from the amount of snow blocking the driveway. after about 10 minutes of driving, you both are greeted with christmas lights that lined the exterior of the local shopping mall. while matt tries to find a parking spot in the midst of holiday chaos, you quietly watch through the frosty window as kids run into piles of snow surrounding the building. observing them are their parents who stand and grip onto their hot coffee cups, and everyone is fitted in colorful hats, mittens and coats.

matt parks the car, and turns over to you slightly, asking if you’re ready to go inside. with a slight nod, both of you step out into the cold. before setting off you readjust your scarf over your mouth, to hopefully shield some of the winter wind from your face.

“here,” matt sighs while tossing his mittens over the hood of the car, “don’t owe you anymore,” he says with a slight smile.

౨ৎ walking through the front door, your attention goes straight to the bookstore. every time you come to the mall you promise to only ‘look’ at the calico critters, you and matt know that’s a reoccurring lie. you’re supposed to be shopping for your family and friends. but how could you not visit your favorite fixation at any given opportunity?

matt knows your fate and follows you up the escalator to the bookstore. browsing the aisles carefully, you spot the section you’re looking for. leaning over, you pick up a family of cats. taking a moment to admire the box, in awe you quickly turn to show matt,

“this is the cutest thing ever, aren’t they so cute??”

he can hear the excitement in your voice and decides to play along with your slight obsession, “yes they’re so cute, they would look very cute under the christmas tree.” he watches are your eyes light up.

before you’re able to say anything else he adds on softly, “under the christmas as a present for someone else maybe? that is why we are here y’know..”

your smile slowly fading, you simply turn away from him and put the box back on the shelf. not willing to beg him and argue his reasoning why you’re at the mall on a busy holiday weekend.

he notices and turns your head back towards him, “it could be under our christmas tree if..”

“if?” you interrupt trying to hide the pout in your lip.

“you know what i want to hear,” he says tilting his head up while showing that smile he knew would get you to do whatever he wanted.

you softly punch his shoulder and look up to his eyes, “put it under the tree first, and then i’ll tell you anything you want to hear.”

he continues to stare down at you, hopeful to get some sort of reaction that would lead to your defeat to him. but instead he’s left with a grunt from your mouth and a prompted head shake that silently scolds him from thinking you’d be so easy to break.

breaking eye contact, you brush past him swiftly. matt quickly takes his phone out to snap a quick picture of the box before he’s met with your hand, grabbing him and dragging him into the next aisle.

he follows your lead with full commitment, with rolled eyes and a smile slowly appearing on his face. little did you know he would come back later to buy the family of tiny cats for you, and he took a picture to make sure he got exactly the ones you wanted.

© 13hoax — dec. 2024

⋆❅* this is a entry for @mattscoquette & @letstrip13‘s writing comp! i’m new to writing on here, so pls be kind & give rylee & mae a follow!

[peachhcs]

sweet, sweet memories

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

the holidays bring the hughes’s and smiths back together in cape cod where nostalgia and the holiday spirit washes over everyone

wc: 5.7k

requested by anon to write about samy + will celebrating christmas and hanukkah. this turned into less samy and will and more all of the hughes siblings and smith siblings instead. also less hanukkah, i’m sorry about that but it is mentioned a lot! i forget sometimes that the hughes are half jewish, so this was a nice touch to add. i wanted to try a new writing style so i sprinkled in some old memories between the plot and wrote more grace x quinn x jack dynamic bc i feel like i never write about their relationship growing up, but anyways, this is long so enjoy!

au masterlist

for the first time in probably four years, all the hughes kids were coming home for the holidays. the hockey gods aligned for the devils and canucks allowing the three boys to have three days off before their next game which meant three days to fly home and spend the holidays with family after doing it through facetime for the last few years. the sharks followed the same schedule which meant will was flying home too, so with the knowledge that all the kids were coming home, ellen and colleen decided to plan a joint holiday at the smith's family home in cape cod.

so all their kids booked their flights for monday night and tuesday morning to fly out to cape cod. jack and luke were the first ones in after their game finished late that afternoon. ellen excitedly greeted her boys when they came through the door. "hi, hi. it's so good to see both of you," the older woman kissed her son's cheeks as they returned her tight hugs.

"hey mom, good to see you too. hi colleen, hi bill," jack greeted his "second parents" next, quickly exchanging similar hugs.

"it's so good to see you both. how was the flight?" colleen wondered, kissing the boys' cheeks too.

"really good. quick. thanks for hosting here," luke smiled brightly.

"of course. we're so excited all of you will be here for a few days. you two are the first ones here," colleen laughed.

"figures. when's everyone else coming?" jack wondered as he shedded himself of his jacket.

"samy and grace should be here in another hour. quinny and will aren't coming in until tomorrow afternoon," ellen explained everyone else's whereabouts.

"tomorrow afternoon?" luke sounded surprised that his older brother wasn't getting there sooner. ellen nodded though, "their game isn't starting until 9pm our time, so they're catching the earliest flight out tomorrow morning."

"damn. that's crazy. at least quinny has one more day of vacation than we do," jack chuckled. the boys ventured downstairs to the basement with their things. the usual rule was that luke stayed in will's room, samy stayed in grace's room, jack and quinn stayed in the spare room down in the basement, and ellen and jim were in the guest room upstairs.

when they were younger, the boys made the entire basement their "man cave" during the summer where they just took over the entire downstairs and will and luke bunked down on the couches. the same applied to the michigan lake house too before more friends started coming by. things were probably going to change now that will and samy were together, but that was a later problem the parents could work out tomorrow when everyone got in. for now, jack unloaded his bag in his and quinn's room while luke just threw his backpack and suitcase in the corner of the room.

the older boys caught themselves up with the parents while they awaited the girls' arrivals. jack and luke gladly told colleen and bill about their season so far, explaining how luke's second full year has been and jack overcoming his shoulder injury. finally, an uber pulled into the drive that was definitely either samy or grace. everyone crowded the front windows to see and much to their surprise, both girls jumped out of the vehicle and raced up the porch steps.

"surprise! we ran into one another at the airport," samy giggled when she pushed the door open.

"what a coincidence! i'm glad you did," ellen chuckled and pulled her daughter in for a hug. more hellos and hugs were exchanged between everyone as the girls got themselves inside.

"heya squirt," jack nuzzled his sister's head in typical older brother fashion. the brunette quickly squirmed out of his grasp.

"what's up rowdy," samy cheesed, flicking jack's hat off in response.

"good to know you haven't changed in a week," the older boy mumbled and let her go so she could say hi to luke.

"how were the flights?" jim asked.

"it was quick and painless. i made it through tsa in 10 minutes which i think is a new record for me," samy explained, bending down to greet the smith's dog they brought everywhere.

"good. glad to hear that. quinny and will are coming in tomorrow afternoon. we have the pregame talkshow up now," colleen nodded towards the big tv.

"ooh, good. i'm excited to watch this one," samy grinned and followed grace upstairs to put her things away for now.

the two girls came back downstairs a minute later and both families got themselves comfortable around the tv to watch their last two members battle it out on the ice in an hour. ellen and colleen busied themselves in the kitchen knowing they had a lot to start prepping for the christmas and hanukkah dishes since hanukkah started on the same day as christmas this year. the kids got the big couch where they spread themselves out between it and the floor. samy slumped down between luke and grace, sending messages to will that they were all watching the game from cape cod.

"so what've you been up to gg?" jack directed his attention to the oldest smith, the nickname being one he's called her since they were kids.

"not a lot really. trying to find my footing and thinking about moving," the older girl explained.

"moving? where to?" luke chirped up.

"i don't know yet, honestly. i really liked the west coast when i was there moving will in, but i don't know if i can be that far away from home," she explained.

"you'd have quinny kind of..close by-ish..you two would be on the west coast together!" luke exclaimed making grace giggle.

"i've been thinking about it and trying to look up apartments. i guess we'll have to see," she smiled softly. "what about you jj and moosey? how's the garden state?"

"it's a dream, g. you have to come visit us sometime. come to a game," jack said like he was so enamored by new jersey still after being there for five years.

"i know, i've been meaning to make plans to come see you guys, but i got caught up with college graduation this past may and then traveling," grace explained and the boys nodded in understanding.

"sorry we missed that. things got crazy busy in may," jack chuckled a bit as his head leaned back against the edge of the couch.

"don't sweat it, i get it. the card from all of you was super nice," the blonde smiled. it wasn't often that the older siblings got to really catch up with one another, so they were really taking advantage of it these next few days.

when they were younger, it was always quinn, jack, and grace against luke, samy, and will. the older three took charge of the younger three—a perfect split—but as life happened and things got busier, all six of them were never around at the same time anymore. being in cape cod reminded all of them of the memories they made in the house and out on the beach fifteen steps away if they widened their strides.

summer of 2012

"why would i listen to you?" luke protested to his 13 year old brother. quinn rolled his eyes, already not excited about going out to the beach, "because i'm older than you and in charge."

"who put you in charge? you're not even that much older than me," the younger boy continued and poor quinn was losing his patience with luke.

"mom put jack, grace, and i in charge because she's gonna take her chance and trust all of us out on the beach today without her watching which means you have to do what we say," quinn emphasized the last part.

"i'm 9. i don't need a babysitter," luke complained. "i'm a year younger than grace!"

"i don't make the rules, moose. i'm not arguing with you anymore," quinn walked away for his own sake. he heard luke huff and then probably hurry off to find their mom. the older boy wandered back into the kitchen where will and samy were at the counter finishing their snacks and grace was doing samy's hair for her.

"moose is being an idiot," quinn mumbled in annoyance.

"don't call him an idiot, q. he just wants to feel included," grace defended luke.

"included? i am including him. i was just telling him the rules for today. i'm not taking the fall if he chooses not to listen to us," the brunette shrugged.

"dude, what'd you do to moose? he's all mad now," jack came into the kitchen a moment later.

"i didn't do anything! he's being a brat," quinn argued while jack just shook his head.

"you shouldn't poke the bear. you know how he gets," the younger brunette dug himself out another juice even though ellen said only one before they left.

"whatever. you guys are dealing with him if he starts again. i'm already done," quinn shook his head.

all 6 of them finally made it out of the house after another fifteen minutes. luke and will took off to the water where quinn was yelling at them to only go out to their waist since their parents weren't there. he was probably the one who took this "in charge" thing the most seriously. samy wanted to build a sandcastle so grace opted to help her do so.

things were going fine for a good seven minutes until luke came running back up the beach holding his palm with teary eyes. quinn, jack, and grace immediately rushed to the boy's side. "moosey, what happened?" quinn urged and then they all saw the piece of glass sticking out of his skin.

"oh no," jack muttered.

"i-i was just trying to find seashells and then i felt something poke my hand.." luke got out in sobs.

"hey, it's okay. it's not your fault," grace was quick to shush his cries, always the one who knew how to manage everyone's emotions.

"mom's gonna freak when she finds out," jack mumbled.

"she's never gonna put us in charge again," quinn frowned when he realized he already messed up his role of protector. he wanted to fix this, so he had to act fast. "j, you run inside and find a bandaid, wet cloth, and antiseptic," the older boy instructed.

"roger that," jack took off back towards the house.

"it's gonna be okay, moosey. we're gonna get you fixed up. it doesn't even look that bad," quinn assured and grace nodded in agreement.

"i-i'm sorry, quinny. i didn't mean to," the younger boy was still crying.

"it's not your fault, i promise. you were just playing around. it's whoever left glass on the beach," the older brother mustered his best smile in hopes of making luke feel better.

"when i was 8, i cut my foot on glass too. not a fun at all, but with the right medicine, it will be okay," grace added, trying to lift the boy's spirits.

"will i be able to swim still?" luke wondered, his tears finally settling.

"maybe not today, but once the cut heals, yes. it should only take a few days," quinn nodded with another smile.

jack came back running with all of what quinn asked for. the three got to work with fixing up luke's hand. quinn took the lead and pulled the little piece of glass from his brother's hand. grace used the antiseptic to clean the cut up real good before jack laid the bandaid down.

"see? good as new," grace grinned.

"thanks, guys. sorry again," luke frowned.

"not your fault, moose," quinn said and urged his brother to go have fun again. will begun helping samy with her castle in the meantime so luke quickly joined in. the oldest hughes held his hand up for a high five.

"good work everyone. mom will be proud of us," the older three grinned.

now two of the oldest tuned themselves in to the game beginning to unfold as quinn and will took the ice, a scene their 13, 11, 10, 9, and 7 year old selves never would've even dreamed of.

—

the next day, christmas eve and the night before the first night of hanukkah, everyone awaited will and quinn's arrivals. colleen and ellen pulled samy and grace to help them in the kitchen while somehow jack and luke evaded the help and went outside to the beach. it was cold for a december day, but warm enough that the breeze felt refreshing instead of freezing.

"god, i love being back here," jack hummed, his toes sinking into the soft sand.

"it reminds me so much of being little considering we don't come out here a lot anymore," luke shared the sentiments. the last time either of them could remember being in cape cod was probably years ago when luke was just starting the dev program. it seemed like being in cape cod was filled with old memories while the lake house in michigan was the bridge to the new memories and friends that filled the house each year.

cape cod would always be the hughes's and smiths to keep close to them and a place to fill whenever the families wanted time together.

as the day ticked by, there was probably dishes worth of food to eat in the next couple of days which wasn't surprising at all. ellen and colleen always went overboard with the food anytime they started cooking, so they were trusting all the kids and bill and jim would eat it all.

the last uber holding the final two kids pulled into the driveway around 4:40pm. samy was rushing down the steps to greet her boyfriend and brother first. she embraced quinn who eagerly scooped her into his arms much like jack and luke did. "wow, long time no see, little hughes," quinn grinned.

"glad you're finally here quinny," samy beamed and jumped towards will next. the blonde lifted her into his arms in a similar manner even though they did just see one another a little over a week ago.

"hi pretty girl, i missed you," will kissed her cheek.

"i missed you. great game last night. you guys were so good," samy praised both boys as they got their things from the back.

"eh, it was nothing," quinn played off the canucks win with a small shrug.

everyone else was waiting on the porch step for the boys. they went through all of the hugs with everyone and smiley hello's. ellen was finally glad to have all of her kids under one roof plus grace and will. the younger smith squeezed both of his parents and sister in tight hugs. "so good to see you again, will," colleen gushed after not seeing her son since visiting a few months ago.

the large group made their way back inside, tasteful aromas filling their senses from all the cooking happening. "good flights i assume?" ellen asked.

"long eight hours, but yeah. it was fine," quinn nodded.

"he snored the whole time," will exposed the older boy, snickering with luke and samy.

"alright, i get it. i snore. you do, too," quinn poked the rookie's shoulder.

"you guys get settled and then i'm sure everyone's hungry so we can eat dinner fairly soon. everything is almost all ready," ellen grinned.

"i'm assuming you're kicking me to the basement, right?" luke motioned between will and his sister who's faces flushed at his words. "i don't have to sleep in—"

"nah, it's fine. my stuff is already all down there anyway. gg, you get a room to yourself for once," luke teased while grace laughed. even though the couple had been together for more than a year now, the older three were still adjusting to seeing the new dynamic within their family. what used to be a divide between girls and boys most of time was now mixed in as they got older. they also just weren't around anymore to fully get used to the idea of samy and will dating after avoiding one another because "boys and girls had cooties."

"just don't be too loud when you start—"

"and that looks like the cue for will and quinn to put their stuff down," samy cut luke off before he finished his sentence. the curly-haired brunette just winked while the others snickered. the young couple's blush got worse as samy rushed will upstairs before anyone said something else uncalled for in front of their parents.

"it never gets old," luke mumbled to himself, collapsing back onto the couch.

"and i'll never get used to it until they get married probably," jack shook his head slightly.

quinn, jack, and grace could picture the first summer they started noticing changes in samy and will's relationship.

summer of 2018

samy and will were 13. luke mumbled something to jack in passing one day when he claimed that will kept inviting samy to hang out with them when he's never done it before. jack didn't really think much of it, also not really caring for luke's 15 year old moodiness as a 17 year old. no one really thought anything of it until quinn caught sight of the two younger ones on the porch together playing cards by themselves. he raised his eyebrow.

"what are you creeping at?" grace noticed quinn by the window.

"samy and will are out there playing cards by themselves," the older boy pointed out. grace went over to look for herself and sure enough, her brother and samy were smiling and laughing as they played two person uno.

"do you ever feel like this summer feels different?" the 18 year old wondered.

"different how?" grace grew curious.

"i don't know like everyone feels a million years older," quinn shrugged.

"i mean..we are older. you're starting sophomore year of college. luke's starting usntdp this fall. jack's almost done with usntdp..." grace listed off all the differences.

"yeah, yeah, but besides the obvious. something just feels different. like maybe everyone's all grown up now that we aren't needed anymore? quinn admitted and grace's expression fell.

"not needed? i don't think we can ever escape that being the oldest siblings," the girl laughed a little.

"i mean with the smaller stuff, you know? it feels like everyone's found their footing. i mean samy and will don't avoid one another anymore. cooties must've rubbed off," the brunette laughed too.

"we'll always be needed, q, just for different reasons, but i understand where you're coming from. it is weird seeing them get along so well now," grace peered out of the window again to catch another glimpse.

samy followed will to his room. it was roughly decorated with famous hockey players he picked out when they were like eight and stayed exactly this way since colleen and bill never found the need to redecorate the beach house rooms. "wow, i feel like i'm eight again," will admired the old medals and posters on the wall.

"this whole house feels like a time capsule to me. we like never come here anymore," the girl settled onto the bed.

"i know. it's cool being back though. feels like those really old times when we were little," will grinned when samy giggled at the memories. the blonde began unpacking some of his things before joining his girlfriend on the bed.

"how've you been?" he wondered.

"i'm good. you?"

"better now that we get to spend a few days together," the blonde cheesed earning a blush on samy's cheeks.

"i love you. how are you feeling about the game from last night?" because of how late everything was and will's early flight, the couple hadn't gotten a chance to talk about it like they usually would.

"fine. it was fine. i knew we would lose against quinn again," will shrugged, playing it off even though samy saw right through the disappointment settling into his body. she tugged his glance towards her, "i know it's hard losing so much, but it's nothing on you."

"i know, i just..it's still weird adjusting to the whole pro life and going from being one of the best to..semi average," the blonde shrugged.

"semi average? babe, give yourself some credit. you're way better than semi average. it may not seem like that right now, but you're gonna prove yourself. the fans love you," samy quickly reassured.

"i just wish our program was stronger or..we had something different. i don't know. i know having mack and i on is definitely turning it around slowly, but..still," will released a sigh, deflating even more with samy hated seeing.

"i get it. it's discouraging, but it's all the more reason to keep pushing for that change. plus, you have at least 3ish..maybe 2 by this point days off, try to take advance of them and just let your mind rest for now," will knew his girlfriend had a point so he smiled and tried forgetting about the team and hockey for now.

"i will, thanks. i love you too," he leaned in to peck her cheek. samy flushed, threading her fingers through his messy curls before heading back down stairs knowing someone would come up looking for them if they didn't.

the dining room finally got put to good use again as everyone found their unassigned, assigned seats while the boys helped bring the dishes out. colleen bill took each head of the table while everyone else filled in around them. likewise, the older siblings sat on one side while the younger ones sat across from them—the old and young divide still showing.

"i wanna say how grateful i am to have everyone here to celebrate the holidays this year. i couldn't be more grateful for having all my sons here and colleen and bill for opening this cherished home to us this year," ellen spoke up before anyone dug in. her expression glowed with joy and happiness seeing all four of her babies look back at her with similar expressions.

the entire dinner was spent with loud laughter and stories of the past few months since summer. hockey was the main topic, but samy continued getting praised for her recent win along with the excitement of being almost halfway done with college already. quinn shared updates about vancouver. jack and luke talked about jersey like they've been living there their whole lives and will expressed how happy he was in san jose. it seemed like every kid was finding their footing which warmed the parents' hearts.

once dinner concluded, the yearly tradition of receiving matching pajamas the night of christmas eve continued. it was even more special this time around because hanukkah was tomorrow too. all six kids opened the familiar shaped gift at the same time, wondering what the theme would be this year.

"oh my god, it's all of our teams," jack saw it first, always being the first one to rip through the wrapping paper. he held the pants up to examine it closer.

"we got them custom made so the pants have your team logos and your shirts are tailored to your specific team," ellen explained.

"wow these are awesome. thanks so much, mom," luke beamed, going to kiss the older woman's cheek.

"we want pictures, so go put them on!" colleen said and urged all the kids to change. they ran to the bathrooms or the bedrooms making the parents laugh. five minutes later, all 6 of them were in the new clothes sporting their teams.

"wow, i love them. you guys look so good," ellen gushed.

"i could totally fuck with these. i'd wear them out honestly," jack proudly declared and posed him his set.

"okay, everyone on the couch like usual," ellen instructed. the kids got themselves in order where the younger ones sat up on the actual couch while quinn, jack, and grace crowded them at their feet. wide smiles painted everyone's lips as the parents squeezed together to capture the memory.

"sooo adorable, oh my god. thanks for being good sports about this guys," colleen smiled when the last photo was taken.

"you guys better get some sleep, we have a big day tomorrow. santa is coming and we're lighting the first candle on the menorah," mrs. hughes clapped her hands together in excitement. obviously, everyone was too old to believe in santa, but she liked saying it nonetheless because they were all still kids in her eyes.

"if you hear commotion on the roof, it just may be the reindeer," jim teased making everyone giggle with childlike excitement.

it was nice because none of them had really felt this excited about christmas like this in awhile. maybe it was something about being all together again that brought the magical feelings back.

"see you all in the morning," jack cheered and made his way downstairs. everyone else said goodnight to the parents and retired to their rooms.

samy and will cuddled together in his bed. "so what'd you ask santa for christmas?" the blonde cheesed in a whisper.

"well, i want one of those dyson air wraps for my hair. i asked for some new socks. some shirts and pants. all the usual. you?" samy giggled as she tried remembering the list she sent her mom a few weeks ago.

"honestly, i didn't really know what i wanted. new sweatshirts? more dress shirts," will shrugged a bit.

"i didn't really know what i wanted either honestly. i kind of told my mom to surprise me. i'm excited for you to see the gift i got you though," the girl grinned.

"oh really? am i gonna love it?"

"i mean, i hope so," samy snuggled in closer to her boyfriend's chest. he squeezed her arm and kissed her temple.

"i'm sure i will. i love anything from you," will laughed and they actually fell asleep pretty fast. after the long day of traveling, will was knocked out and samy fell asleep from his familiar scent alone.

the morning of christmas, a very special tradition was always carried out and luke and samy were already awake to continue it on. the two met in the quiet kitchen, "ready?" the older boy wondered.

"so ready," samy grinned.

every year since they could learn how to be quiet, samy and luke had a tradition of waking up everyone in the house super early using a different method each year. in past years they've splashed water on people's faces, blew air horns in their ears, threw fake rubber bugs on people—it was endless and the most fun the siblings had.

this year they were going with silly string. hoping that 5 cans was enough, they crept downstairs to where jack and quinn were.

winter of 2016

"shh, we have to be quiet," luke whispered to his little sister as they crept upstairs to jack's room. they were giggling like crazy with one another in hopes that no one would hear them coming.

their mom bought them the air horns weeks ago, hoping that by asking for them weeks in advance, she wouldn't find out what they'd be using them for. the tactic worked because no one in the house knew what was coming as they inched closer to their brother's room.

jack was a pretty heavy sleeper in general, so they hoped the loud air horns would do the trick. once they blew them, everyone in the house was bound to hear, so they had to move fast throughout everyone's rooms so they could all get a taste of the loud handheld machines.

"we go on my count," luke instructed and samy nodded. he carefully pushed jack's door open where the middle hughes was spread out across his bed snoring loudly.

it was seven in the morning, the latest they left anyone sleep before they set their yearly tradition and prank into motion. luke and samy hovered right over jack's head.

"3"

"2"

"1"

the loud sound blew through the air straight into poor jack's ears. he jolted straight out of bed, eyes wide with fear.

"wake up it's christmas!" luke and samy yelled before hurrying out of the boy's room. they pushed quinn's door open right next door, not hesitating to blow the air horns.

"get up! get up! it's christmas!" the oldest hughes jumped straight up too.

grace was their next victim in samy's room. "wake up!!" she yelled in the girl's ear who flinched.

they ran into their parents' room, jumping on ellen and jim's king sized bed and blowing the horns. "merry christmas!!!"

they were such menaces because mr. and mrs. hughes woke up startled and scared someone was breaking into their house until they realized it was just samy and luke.

they kept blaring the horns as they ran downstairs to the basement where will was asleep. the poor blonde grumbled something and tried covering his ears with the pillows. samy and luke ran back up the the main floor where they spun themselves around to announce the day ahead.

"it's finally christmas! everyone wake up!" the two yelled.

it was the cruelest way to wake people up, but it worked every year because everyone was usually awake within the thirty minutes samy and luke made their grand entrances.

this christmas was going to be no different. luke pushed his brothers' door opened where jack was spread out on the bed and quinn was sleeping the opposite direction. the siblings shared a glance, feeling bad for just a second, but knowing everyone should just expect it by now.

"you get quinn, i'll get jack," luke whispered and samy nodded.

she pointed her fire at her older brother who looked so peaceful sleeping. when luke gave her the signal, she shook her can and started spraying directly in the boy's face.

quinn, who wasn't a heavy sleeper, woke up immediately, "hey, what the fuck!" he yelled which woke jack up.

"woah, what the fuck is that?" they covered their faces.

"merry christmas!" samy and luke yelled before racing out of the room and back upstairs.

they went to ellen and jim's room, not even waiting to start spraying in their direction. "wake up! wake up! it's christmas!" the older couple winced when the substance touched their faces.

"luke. samy," ellen said sharply making her kids run out of the room before they were caught. samy bursted into will's room and she felt so bad getting up and leaving him alone in the bed, but it was also still so fun to wake him up like this.

"merry christmas smitty!" luke started spraying first. it rambled into the blonde's hair where he flinched away, hiding under the covers.

"hey! what the hell!" he grumbled.

"sorry, baby. get up! it's christmas!" samy giggled and ran out of the room to grace's.

no one was thrilled with the silly string wake up call and what samy and luke forgot was that they left their extra cans down in the kitchen where quinn and jack found them after they ran up the stairs.

the older brothers raced up to the second floor and sprang into action, spraying down samy and luke in return for the cruel wake up alarm.

"take that!" jack exclaimed and now all four siblings were having a silly string battle in the middle of the hallway. it was going everywhere on the walls, in their hair, on their clothes.

will and grace came out a second later when they heard the yelling. "take one!" jack threw a can to grace.

instead, she decided to spray the older boys back. they freaked and tried running away back down the stairs, but everyone just followed them instead.

the war continued in the kitchen. will grabbed his own can and now it turned into every man for themselves. counters were used as shields. corners weren't safe anymore. entryways became hiding places. silly string was everywhere.

when ellen, jim, colleen, and bill finally made it out of their rooms, they were greeted with a large amount of silly string everywhere.

"i can't say i'm mad because samy and luke always think of something clever to wake us up with," bill laughed.

"let's just be glad it wasn't water this year," ellen mumbled and decided to brave going downstairs where the war was still happening between the kids.

they had all made it outside at this point. the entire yard became free range. samy tried hunting down will, but he cornered her first and sprayed her hard with yellow.

"can it be a truce if we're dating?" samy said, blocking her face from the string.

"truce. nah, i come to play," will shook his head. the girl took off towards the beach knowing they couldn't spray on the beach because it was public property.

will still followed her but stopped when he saw that she had stopped too. he raised his eyebrow until he got closer and saw nothing but white covering the sand.

"oh my god, it snowed!" the girl squealed and ran onto the snow covered beach.

the blonde grinned, watching his girlfriend fall back into the snow even though she was still in nothing but her pjs. he quickly followed after her.

"will, it snowed! i haven't seen snow on the beach in so long," she was so happy and the silly string war was forgotten.

quinn, jack, luke, and grace came looking for the two. when they got closer to the beach, they caught sight of the snow and all of their faces lit up.

"no fucking way, it snowed!" jack hurried ahead.

"i haven't seen snow on this beach in so long," grace mumbled in disbelief.

jack copied samy and will. he stared making his own snow angel. being from michigan must've made them have thick skin because none of them were complaining about the cold in just pajamas.

"this is so cool," luke mumbled, pulling his phone out for a picture.

the silly string war quickly turned to a snowball fight. when the parents finally made it outside, they couldn't even be mad anymore because the joy on their kids' faces was like no other.

it really was some christmas miracle.

[aceluk]

This time I offer a Into the Pit Yellow Rabbit doodle. I love this creature! Small account ramble ahead ^^ (spoiler: taking requests!?)

When I first started here, I didn’t even expect to reach 50 followers… and now we’re almost at 200! Thank you all so much for your support! ❤️

To celebrate this and with Christmas just around the corner, I’m willing to take requests for your FNaF ideas and draw them in the UCFT style! Whether it’s set in the UCFT universe or the FNaF universe, feel free to get creative! If you're interested, my ask box is open! Just a heads-up, though: I may not be able to take every request, and please, don't be weird. Thank you for understanding! ^^

On another note, I treated myself to some new FNaF games for the holidays. I recently played Into the Pit and ended up really liking it, so here’s a quick doodle inspired by it! I’m not entirely satisfied with it, but I’ll keep practicing to improve my style.

Up next are Help Wanted 1 and 2, and I’m super excited to dive into them!

Happy holidays, everyone! 🎄✨

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Cock Worship with ES!Bumblebee

NSFW MDNI 18+

Gender neutral and sex neutral reader, racially ambiguous, oral, face fucking, sub reader dom Bumblebee, I’m so normal about Earthspark Bee I promise

Bumblebee’s pelvis twitched as his spike rested atop your face. He couldn’t hold back the smile that formed on his intake at the sight before him. Your eyes were wide open and practically heart shaped, your lips parted with gentle yet excited breaths passing through, and your form sitting so obediently on his berth.

He measured the length of his spike against your face for a moment. Bumblebee hummed in thought as he rubbed his cock against your face, his transfluid leaking from his tip down your forehead, nose, and finally across your cheek. He couldn’t hold back his amusement at seeing your chest moving in needy pants of air. The idea that you were so excited just having his spike laid over your face made a smug feeling wash over the mech.

“Cute,” Bumblebee cooed cupping the back of your head. “Do you want my spike?”

The way you jerked forward then stopped yourself from pouncing on his heated cable didn’t go unnoticed. “Yes,” you said breathlessly. “Yes! Please can I suck it?”

Bumblebee’s cooling fans jittered at your request. Of course he wants nothing more than to shove his spike down your throat and watch you struggle to swallow his overload but it was so fun watching you squirm and wait for him to order you around.

“Yeah?” He mocked while stroking the back of your head. “My desperate little slut wants to suck me off so bad?”

You clenched your fists against your lap and let out a whine. “Please!” You begged doing your best to stay still. “I want your cock, please!”

Bumblebee’s hips stuttered as his optics fluttered closed at your begging. You were going to be the death of him.

“Frag,” he groaned thrusting against your face. “You know I can’t resist you when you beg like that.”

He could hear your needy panting and practically see the heated air steaming out of your mouth. Bumblebee’s own excitement continued to leak down your face and he could tell by the way you licked around your lips you were desperate to have him in your mouth.

Bumblebee guided your head back as he pulled his hips away from you. His spike slid down your face until the tip made contact with your lips.

He could feel his spark throb in response to how you looked up at him with nothing but pure love as your lips puckered against his tip. Pink transfluid leaked down your lips and dribbled down past your chin. “Go ahead, Sweet Spark,” Bumblebee purred. “I’m all yours.”

Like a well trained pet told it can finally eat its food you dove onto Bumblebee’s spike. You grabbed around the girth of his phallic cable eagerly. You rubbed your hands up and down his spike as you panted in excitement. “Thank you,” you murmured as you pressed kisses to the tip of his spike. “Thank you.”

You ran your wet tongue along the length of his cock trying not to slobber all over the hot metal. Bumblebee chewed on the flexible metal of his lower lip trying his best not to lose his cool and start fucking your face. His door wings fluttered in bliss at the loving attention you payed to his throbbing spike.

His transfluid was spread all over your lips like a perversion of lip gloss.

You followed your tongue up his spike with wet sloppy kisses. There was no point on his thick throbbing cable that your lips didn’t touch. Every hot inch of metal was lovingly covered in spit from your licking and kisses. For you in this moment, his spike was everything. The baby blue biolights, the yellow flexible metal, the way it weeped pink fluids, and how Bumblebee’s own shaky moans echoed in your ears.

“Frag,” Bumblebee groaned watching you savor his spike. “That good?”

“Mmm,” you moaned running your lips up his shaft. “You taste so good. I wish I could just live off of your cock.”

Bumblebee punctuated how he moaned your name with a sharp swear. You were going to be the death of him.

“You’re just going to keep teasing me or are you gonna let me fuck that pretty little face?” Bumblebee groaned over his whirring cooling fans.

Your eyes lit up at his offer and you quickly dropped your hands from his shaft. You looked up at Bumblebee and opened your mouth invitingly for him to take whatever pleasure he needed from you.

“Primus,” Bumblebee moaned pushing the back of your head towards his spike. “You’re too good to me.”

With a sharp thrust of his pelvis he pushed his spike as far as it could go into your mouth. Your gagging only spurred him on. The slobber you produced around his cock mixed with the pink transfluid creating a foamy light pink liquid.

“So good,” Bumblebee moaned thrusting into your face. “You’re doing so good.”

You kept your eyes trained on his optics as you choked and sucked around the massive intrusion in your mouth. Your drool dribbled down your chin in an erotic streak of spit and transfluid. Bumblebee’s servo stayed steady on the back of your head as he thrusted into you trying to balance his neediness with not tearing your poor throat.

By now you feel like your body should have adjusted to his size. Your body should have molded itself to being the perfect pleasure doll for the mech.

You only looked up at Bumblebee with pure love in your eyes as he took whatever he wanted from between your lips. His own optics darted over your face suddenly feeling nervous at the unadulterated attention you gave him.

“Look at you,” Bumblebee groaned trying not to shove the rest of his spike down your throat. “Look at how good you take my spike. Primus what did I do to deserve such a-“ He cut himself off with a wailing moan as you hollowed your cheeks and tried to suck more of him in.

“Little slut,” Bumblebee laughed giving you a harsh thrust that made you squeak and gag. “You’re too much.”

His thrusts picked up in intensity as your eyes watered from the battering his spike put your throat through. You knew you’d be raspy and sore for a while but God was it such a pleasant reminder of what your lover did.

“I’m gonna overload,” Bumblebee moaned his thrusts becoming shaky. “Take it all! Primus I want to see you swallow it all!”

You did your best to move your head in time with his thrusting. You worked so hard for his release and you were going to get what you wanted one way or another.

His needy moans flowed through your ears like a symphony and his transfluid flowed into your mouth like liquid gold.

The acidic taste was difficult to get used to but now you practically wished you lived on it.

Bumblebee gave your mouth a couple tepid thrusts as you tried to swallow around his cock without choking. “Primus you’re so good,” Bumblebee moaned. He swore under his breath as he slowly slid his spike out from between your lips. You followed him trying to keep him inside of your mouth earning a low chuckle from the mech. He held your head in place so he could properly pull himself out from the warm grasp of your mouth.

Transfluid leaked from the corners of your lips and dribbled down your chin. You gave a couple coughs when Bumblebee finally pulled out of you.

“You look wrecked,” Bumblebee laughed his faceplate flushed blue.

You licked around your mouth earning a low groan from the yellow mech before you. “I wanna warm your spike,” you said in a raspy voice.

Bumblebee hissed feeling his over stimulated spike twitch at the idea. “No,” he replied giving your head some gentle pets. “I don’t want you to go completely voiceless.”

You nodded trying to hide your disappointment and instead opted to grab his servo and nuzzle your face into it.

“I love you,” you rasped.

“I love you too.”

[girl-next-door-writes]

Amidst the Chaos

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: A glimpse or ‘normal’ might just give Dean the space to figure out what he feels and how to tell you.

Word Count: 1276 words

Prompts: Library. Mutual pining. A hug that lingers.

A/N: This one is for @roseblue373. A very merry holiday season my friend. I hope you enjoy this.

The ski resort buzzed with energy, laughter ringing through the crisp mountain air as snowflakes swirled lazily from the sky. Twinkling Christmas lights adorned every corner, and the scent of pine and cocoa seemed to follow you wherever you went. You tightened your scarf against the chill and glanced around, wondering where Dean had wandered off to. He had a knack for disappearing in the middle of your adventures, only to reappear with some grand excuse or, more often, snacks.

This trip had been Sam’s idea. He’d insisted you and Dean needed a break from hunting, a chance to experience something ��normal” for once. While Dean had grumbled about it being a waste of time, you’d caught the faintest hint of excitement in his eyes when Sam had mentioned the ski resort. It wasn’t often Dean let his guard down, but you’d hoped this trip might coax out the softer side of him—the one you secretly adored.

“There you are,” a familiar voice said, and you turned to find Dean striding toward you, his green eyes bright against the winter backdrop. He was holding two cups of hot chocolate, steam curling into the cold air.

“Took you long enough,” you teased, accepting the cup he offered.

He smirked, his cheeks tinged pink from the cold. “I got held up. Some kid tried to swipe my marshmallows. Had to defend my honor.”

You rolled your eyes, sipping the rich, sweet drink. “Right. Because nothing says ‘Dean Winchester’ like battling a seven-year-old over hot chocolate.”

“Hey,” he said, mock-offended. “That kid was scrappy.”

Laughing, you bumped your shoulder against his. “Thanks for this, by the way. I needed it.”

His expression softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you. “Yeah. Me too.”

The next few days passed in a blur of snowy adventures. You’d managed to convince Dean to try skiing, which had been equal parts hilarious and terrifying. He’d started out cocky, insisting it couldn’t be that hard, only to end up sprawled in the snow after his first attempt.

“You okay down there?” you called, trying and failing to hide your laughter.

“I’m just taking a rest is all.” He huffed.

“A rest? In the wet snow?” You smirked

He pushed himself up, snow clinging to his jacket and hair, and shot you a mock glare. “You say that like it’s a bad thing to take a break.”

“Break?” you said, arching an eyebrow. “You’ve been on the ground more than you’ve been on your skis.”

“I’m just…assessing the terrain,” he said, brushing snow off his gloves. “You know, making sure it’s safe for you.”

“How noble of you,” you teased, offering him a hand.

He took it, his grip warm and steady despite the cold, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers lingered just a moment longer than necessary. It sent a shiver down your spine, though it had nothing to do with the weather.

By Christmas Eve, the resort had transformed into a winter wonderland. Strings of lights twinkled in every tree, and a massive Christmas tree stood in the center of the main plaza, its ornaments reflecting the golden glow of the fire pits scattered around.

You and Dean had spent the day exploring the quieter trails around the resort, enjoying the rare peace. As the sun set, painting the snow-capped peaks in shades of pink and orange, you found yourselves at the lodge’s outdoor terrace, overlooking the slopes.

“Pretty view,” you said, leaning against the wooden railing.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, his voice softer than usual. You turned to find him looking at you, not the mountains.

Your cheeks warmed, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the falling snow. “So,” you said, trying to lighten the mood, “what’s the verdict? Are ski resorts better than hunting demons?”

“Tough call,” he said, stepping closer. “I mean, the food’s definitely better. And the company’s not half bad.”

You laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet night. “Not half bad, huh? I’ll take it.”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know,” he said, his tone turning serious, “I’m not great at this kind of stuff.”

“What stuff?” you asked, your heart pounding.

“The…normal stuff,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “Holidays, relaxing, just…being. It’s not exactly my wheelhouse.”

“You’re doing fine,” you said softly.

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and you felt like he could see every thought you’d ever had about him.

“You make it easier,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before you could respond, a sudden burst of laughter and music from the lodge broke the moment. Dean stepped back, his usual mask slipping into place.

“C’mon,” he said, his tone light again. “Let’s grab some food before Sam eats it all.”

Later that night, you found yourself alone in the lodge’s library. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the rows of books. You’d come here for some quiet, needing a moment to process the way Dean had looked at you earlier. It had been different, more intense, like he was on the verge of saying something important.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear him approach until he was right behind you.

“Figured I’d find you here,” he said, his voice low and warm.

You turned to see him standing there, hands in his jacket pockets, his expression unreadable. “Couldn’t sleep?” you asked.

He shook his head, stepping closer. “Nah. Too much on my mind.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Dean Winchester, overthinking? Never thought I’d see the day.”

He chuckled, but it was short-lived. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he said, his tone suddenly serious.

Your heart skipped a beat. “What is it?”

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I… I’m not good at this, so I’m just gonna say it. Being here, with you, it’s the best thing I’ve had in a long time. And it scares the hell out of me, because I don’t want to screw it up.”

You stared at him, your chest tight with emotion. “Dean…”

“You mean a lot to me,” he continued, his voice rough with emotion. “More than I know how to say. And I get if that’s… too much. But I needed you to know.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, without thinking, you closed the distance between you and wrapped your arms around him. He froze, surprised, before hugging you back, his arms strong and steady around you.

The hug lingered, neither of you wanting to let go. His hand slid up to cup the back of your head, his touch gentle despite the strength in his grip.

“You’re not screwing anything up,” you murmured against his chest.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his green eyes searching yours. “You sure about that?”

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

And then, before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned up and kissed him. His lips were warm and soft against yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. When you finally pulled back, he was staring at you like you’d just flipped his entire world upside down.

“What was that for?” he asked, though his lips curved into a small smile.

“For being you,” you said simply.

He grinned, pulling you back into his arms.

As the fire crackled and the snow fell outside, you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, savouring the quiet and the promise of something new. Amidst the chaos of your lives, this moment was yours, and it was perfect.

[ladykailitha]

A Corroded Coffin Christmas ft The Fallen

Hello and welcome to my Christmas AUvent Calendar! Every day from now until the 24th I will be posting a ficlet that is 500-1500 from an AU I've done over the years.

All stories will be marked with the tag #12 aus of christmas so you can follow along as I will only be tagging my permanent list for this (it would get too confusing otherwise).

The next one on our list is: The Fallen verse. You can read the story here and it's sequels here and here. All links will be to the first chapter, but the chapter itself will have links to the rest of the story.

Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9 Day 10

~

Steve reached over and put his hand on Simon’s knee as it was bouncing faster and faster the closer they got to the studio. He was nervous as fuck. Hell, they all were. Because apparently the perks of being the boyfriend for the lead singer of the biggest metal band in the world is getting his band to do a Christmas album with them.

It wasn’t going to be a full album, just about eight or so songs that would feature The Fallen in someway. Steve was really looking for to the absolute gay fest his version of “Santa Baby” was going to be.

Other songs would include “Jingle Bells”, “Carol of the Bells”, “Last Christmas”, “Better Do it Right”, “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day”, “I Saw Three Ships” (the duet version Barenaked Ladies did with Sarah McLaughlin), “Little Drummer Boy”, and “Christmas Day” for the feels.

It was going to be so much fun. Gareth and Spencer were going to do a drum off for “Better Do it Right” and Shane was going to really get to let lose on the metal cover of “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day”. While Simon was going take over for Jeff in “Last Christmas”. Jeff couldn’t stand the song and didn’t want to have his ears bleed.

The car pulled up to the studio where they were led into the sound booth would be using. For the most part everyone would be going into different rooms and laying down their parts but would come together for the duet and Carol of the Bells where they would all be singing together.

Even Spence. Which he as super excited for. One secret that not even Eddie knew was that backup vocals weren’t sung by Asmodeus or Astraeus. But by Azrael. He had the best voice next to Steve and he loved that no one knew that but his friends and now Nadia.

They all gathered together in the green room with Bob, Chrissy, and Celeste all waiting for them. It appeared the Corroded Coffin boys weren’t there yet.

“Come on in!” Bob said brightly. “You can take your masks off for bit if you want, Eddie knows to knock before they come in.”

They all looked at each other and then all of them removed the masks with a sigh of relief. The masks were as comfortable as they could be but they were still masks.

They chatted for awhile, talking about the album and which songs they were excited to play. Everyone agreed it was Abbadon doing Santa Baby. Screw “Santa Buddy” for fuck’s sake.

Then there was a knock on the door and after they were given time to put the masks back, Corroded Coffin entered the room.

“Hey, guys!” Bob greeted brightly. “Come on in. I’m Bob Newby, I’m The Fallen’s music producer. Thank you for choosing me to do this with you!”

Jeff reached out and shook his hand. “We’ve heard nothing but things about you from the guys and couldn’t wait to get in the studio with you.”

“Yeah,” Gareth agreed. “It’s nice to put a face to the name.”

Then they all sat down and wrote down which order everyone would going in. And it was pretty much going to a full schedule for everyone for the next couple of weeks.

But they were all excited and couldn’t wait to get started.

Then the day came. The one everyone had been waiting for. The instrumentals had been laid and mixed weeks ago, but it was time for Steve to sing “Santa Baby”.

The little sound booth was crammed with everyone wanting to hear this. Both managers, Vickie their agent, and the seven other members of both bands all clustered behind Bob at the mixer.

Steve had his mask on, but rolled his shoulders as he started his vocal warm ups. He shook out his limbs and then grabbed the mic.

“Santa baby,” Abbadon crooned, “just slip a Jag under the tree for me. Been an awful good boy. Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight!”

Eddie melted on the spot. If the guys had been in the know, they would be making fun of him so hard right now. As it was, they all were under Abbadon’s spell.

“Santa baby, a ‘54 convertible too, light blue. I’ll wait up for you. Santa Baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight! Think of all the fun I’ve missed, think of all the fella’s that I haven’t kissed. Next year I could be just as good, if you check off my Christmas list.”

Steve continued to sing the whole song and the sound booth was going to crazy. Once he was done, The Fallen boys flooded the recording booth and dogpiled Abbadon, telling him how sick that was and that it was going to be a number one hit for sure.

Eddie didn’t doubt that for a moment. Abbadon coming out as bisexual and then two years later, singing that? Yeah. That song was going to be huge. They all walked out of the studio to a bright July evening, excited for the album to drop in December.

~

They were right, The Fallen were asked to sing “Santa Baby” on every morning talk show, late night show, and for the POPS! Christmas special.

Another one that made the POPS concert, which surprised everyone, was Gareth and Spence’s Little Drummer Boy. They credited the idea to Of King and Country, of course, but there was just something special about a metal version of it that drove the masses wild.

The final surprise off the album was people clamoring to know who the contra alto was in their version of “Carol of the Bells”. They wanted to know who the guest female vocalist was. Both The Fallen and Corroded Coffin burst out laughing every time the question was raised.

“All vocals were done by Corroded Coffin and The Fallen,” Bob said in an interview with Rolling Stone magazine. “There was no female vocalist.”

Spence enjoyed every moment of the speculation.

When the album went platinum in two weeks, they threw a party with the two bands.

“Here’s to the best metal Christmas collab of all time!” Eddie toasted and everyone cheered.

Steve smiled, it was a very merry Christmas indeed.

~

Day 12

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[loverboysturn]

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ starcrossed!chris has a gift for starcrossed!reader

note: this is a bit further down the timeline than what has been posted so far for the starcrossed lovers au but i wanted to write something christmassy :)

you can read all the starcrossed lovers writings here and find everything else for the starcrossed universe here.

you were hating every second of this.

your parents sat at the head of the table at their annual christmas eve dinner surrounded by their group of unbearable friends, all of them talking in a superficial way about business deals, luxury events and expensive vacations they had planned.

your brother sits across from you, smiling and nodding at ease as someone who wanted to belong in this world, he had every intention of taking over the head of the family role from your father one day, however, you, especially now wanted out.

your thoughts keep drifting back to chris.

you’d spent the last few months sneaking around — whispered conversations in hidden corners, him sneaking through your window in the middle of the night, stolen kisses that left your heart racing long after they were over. the love that had blossomed between you felt undeniable, every moment you spent together felt like it was always meant to be. it was reckless, thrilling and he was all yours, the risk of getting caught only made it all the more intense, something you both knew was forbidden, but neither of you could resist.

a buzz from your phone brings you back to the moment, you glance at the screen; a message from nate.

22:17 new message from nate chris is waiting for you. meet him at his car in the diner parking lot.

your pulse quickens at the thought of seeing chris, you quickly reply back:

22:17 leaving now

you stood up, faking a smile, and excused yourself from the table, no one noticed, all too busy discussing their next business project and plotting their next big move but none of that mattered to you when you were about to see your love.

as you begin to slip away, you catch the eye of your housekeeper. the older woman has worked for your family for years and had been more of a second mother than an employee, she had known about you and chris from the start and she’d never once judged you for it. instead, she’d quietly become your ally, always ready to cover for you when you needed her.

you smile as you approach her stood in the hallway, she was waiting by the back door giving you a knowing look before glancing over her shoulder, ensuring you that no one was watching.

“I’ll cover for you” she whispers, “i’ll tell them you are feeling ill and need some time alone, they won’t question it”

your heart swells with gratitude for the lady, what would you do without her? “thank you, i’ll be back by midnight, promise”

she nods, brushing your shoulders, “just make sure you’re back by then, i will keep them all distracted until then, now go darling, your love is waiting for you”

you slip out the back door, cool air hitting your face like a breath of freedom, you walk quickly down the quiet path towards the side gate, your heart pounding in your chest with the excitement of seeing chris.

once you’d reached the gate, you glance over your shoulder one last time to positively ensure you weren’t being followed, once you felt at ease, you move quickly toward the parking lot that sat behind the old diner a few blocks away, it was a place no one would ever visit, far from anyone’s nosey eyes, perfect for moments like this.

when you reach the parking lot, you spot chris’s car immediately, he’s leaning against the car, arms crossed, waiting for you.

he pushes himself off the car as you approach, his eyes lighting up when he sees you, “you’re late” he teases, corner of his mouth quirking up into a grin, but his eyes soften as they meet yours.

you smirk back at him, “i had to make sure nobody noticed i was gone”

“get in” he says with a slight nod, motioning towards the passenger seat, “i’m freezing my ass off”

you giggle to yourself and climb into the car, heart still pounding from the thrill of sneaking away from a family event like this, chris closes the door and slides into the drivers seat.

as soon as he gets in, he hands you a small velvet box, his voice quiet, almost sounding like he’s nervous, “merry christmas baby”

you look at the box, then up at him, confusion clear on your face, “chris, what? you didn’t have to—“

“i wanted to” he interrupts with a slight shrug, trying to play himself off as casual as could be about the gift.

you open the box to reveal a delicate diamond bracelet, simple yet elegant, with small dainty shimmering stones that catch the light. it wasn’t flashy or over the top, it was beautiful. you felt a wave of gratitude as you gently touch it, realizing how much thought he had put into choosing something so perfect for you, it was a small thing, but the meaning behind it enormous.

“it’s perfect,” you say, looking over at him, but before you could say more, he reaches for your wrist, lifting it gently to place the bracelet on, “thank you” you whisper, voice full of soft and shy, then with an added breath “i love you chris”

chris’s eyes soften, never breaking eye contact, before you could say anything more, he pulls you into his arms and onto his lap, the movement smooth and natural so you’re now straddling him, those three words you’d just spoken weren’t new to him, he’d heard them from you before, but in this moment, they felt different.

“i love you” he murmurs, voice and low before pulling you into a kiss.

you respond instantly, arms wrapping around his neck as you deepen the kiss, slow at first, but as chris pulls you closer, the kiss becomes more urgent, desperate, and full of all the longing that had been building up between you.

when you finally pull away from each other, he rests his forehead against yours, hands still holding on to yours, “i’ll never get tired of hearing you tell me that” he says softly, voice quiet, “never”

you smile, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his words, “good” you whisper, then kiss him again, this time with everything you have, because in this moment, nobody or nothing else matters, “because i love you” you whisper again, pressing a quick peck to his lips, “i love you” you peck him again, “i love you” and again.

chris grins, arms tightening around your waist, “and lucky for you, i love you right back” he says, pulling you in for another kiss.

started working on this last week and accidentally deleted the draft LOL then when chris got his licence, i had to bring this idea back and re-write it!!! hope you enjoy :)

pictures are not mine

[carambola-caramel]

Good evening/morning everyone! I really appreciate all the support you guys have given me since I started this blog and I’m really grateful to be here with ya’ll. Thank you so much for 34+ followers!

here’s the hfjone au’s I’ve made in the past few months, requested by @edgyphaze4everr

Here’s some close ups

I’m really excited for what 2025 has for us, see you later! :]

[dixons-sunshine]

You hummed quietly to yourself in the kitchen of the small two-story house you and Daryl occupied in Alexandria. After a harsh, intense period of fighting with not only the undead but the Saviours as well, it was nice to have some semblance of peace in the aftermath. It had been a grueling process to rebuild the remains of Alexandria from the ground up, but with the help from everyone in the community, as well as from people in other communities as well, Alexandria stood tall and proud once again. With all the houses rebuilt and with additional houses built as well, you and Daryl had opted to claim one of the smaller properties as your own, a sanctuary away from the bustling crowd of Alexandria after an exhausting day.

The paragraph of my first ever work in the The Walking Dead writing community. The story that kick-started this blog into what it is today. in SICKNESS and in health, posted February 25th 2024. Honestly, it feels like a lifetime and no time at all has passed since then. It’s such a surreal feeling.

When I wrote that story, I definitely did not expect anything to come of it. I remember being on season seven at the time of writing that, and feeling my heart break with what happened to Daryl in the sanctuary. I wrote that little comfort fic for myself at first, just to feel better about the hurt that was season 7, but then I thought “hey. I might as well post it. I’m sure someone out there will enjoy it.” And that’s what I did. I posted it and exited Tumblr directly after, and did not touch it again for a whole day. And when I did…

I saw my notifications showing me a bright blue ‘99+’. And I had gained a whole 20 followers, putting my follower count at the time at 29. Seeing that made my heart burst with joy. I could not believe that people were actually enjoying what I wrote. Also, I remember scrolling through my notifications and stopping dead in my tracks when I saw that @angelwings-crossbowstrings, aka one of the people whose stories inspired me to try my hand at writing for Daryl in the first place, had not only liked it, but reblogged it and followed me. My poor mom got bombarded with “holy shit, this amazing writer just followed me!” messages that day. She had no idea what I was yapping about, but she was supportive.

After that, I tried it again. Wrote something, posted it, and it got notes. And then again. I wrote my first installment for my “Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU” as my third ever fic, which is still my most popular series to date. That fic also served as the gateway to people sending me their amazing ideas via requests.

And the hits just kept on coming after that. And I still can’t believe that I get to say that people like my writing. Take that, my third grade English teacher.

This year had its ups, and it definitely had its downs. Due to the fact that I was so excited to get this blog up and running, I pushed myself too hard a lot of times, and I have burnt myself out on more than one occasion. I told myself that if I didn’t pump out fics every day, people would be disappointed in me. I had set high expectations for myself, and I felt so bad when I couldn’t live up to them. However, through lots of reassurance and guidance, I realized that it was unhealthy for me, mentally speaking. I was pushing myself way too hard, and I needed to slow down if I wanted to keep the fun of writing alive for me.

This year, I also had a moment where I was scared. I found something that made me realize that my blog could have potentially been the next target for a known plagiarist, and it made me fearful. I pour my heart and soul into every story that I write, so having the safety that I associate with writing threatened was a terrifying thing. However, thanks to the vigilant creators behind the @fanfic-plagiarism-watchdog blog, my worries were settled. (Although I still keep my eyes peeled for any suspicious activity on that other blog.)

Now, for the ups. Let’s get the negativity out of here. We’re ending this year with a bang.

I never celebrated this, but I reached 1k followers this year! It happened so quickly, I barely had time to register and think of how to celebrate it. At the time of posting this, I’m a little less than 70 followers away from 2k, and I just wanna say thank you to each and every one of you for deciding to stick around. Your love and support means the world to me.

I had a work of mine surpass 2000 notes! That number is still so surreal to me, oh my god.

Not something writing related, but I moved this year. It was definitely a good decision and I don’t regret it at all. It was hard moving everything from one house to the next, but in the end, it was definitely worth it.

I also met some amazing people because of this blog. I still can’t believe that I get to say that I know them on a somewhat personal level. @lazyneonrabbitt, @angelwings-crossbowstrings, @enlightndone, @shadowcitrine, @dixondystopia, @dix0nvix3n, @deansapplepie, @snailss, @remnantsofsleep and @yevmarie.

And I can not forget about my girl @holdmytesseract. You’re one of my absolute favourite people ever and I love you. Keep being your awesome self, sweetheart.

And @thevegandarkelf. I still can’t believe that I get to talk to her on a daily basis. What started out with a comment about how our angels (our OCs, Vec and Georgie) would have been friends in an alternate universe spiraled into, if I may be so bold, a friendship. Taylor has become a huge part of my day-to-day life, and I honestly can’t believe that I get to just text you randomly throughout the day about anything at all. I love you.

I would also like to give the biggest of thanks to @daryl-dixon-daydreams. Her fic entitled “Plan A” was the first ever work of Daryl I read here on Tumblr, and she was one of my biggest inspirations to start writing after my long hiatus. So thank you for blessing us with your amazing writing, and I can’t wait to read more of what you put out.

Now, to finish this off, I thought I’d give my personal favourite fics I wrote this year:

Daryl Dixon:

Hazelnut—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Was It was Boogeyman?—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams—Young!Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Needs To Be Perfect—Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Crushes Are For School Girls—Daryl Dixon x Georgianna Hawkins (OC)

Scud Frohmeyer:

Look At Me—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Perfect End—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Performance—Scud Frohmeyer x Fem!Reader

Murphy MacManus:

Make A Move—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

The Safety—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Irish Man In A Closet—Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Thank you all so much for sticking with me this year. I love each and every one of you so much, and I can’t wait to embark into the new year with all of you.

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays, and happy new year in advance!

[charminglilly]

A Second Chance at Christmas

Vi Arcane x fem!reader

Summary: a first Christmas spend with Vi (and her siblings)

a/n: TYSM for all the support on my other post!! I was suppose nervous and didn’t think anyone would like it but I’m so glad you guys did! Here is a rlly quick fic abt Christmas with Vi, I low key didn’t know what to write and might make a pt 2. Let me know! Not proofread…😛

————————

Now playing: Christmas lights by Coldplay

————————

Growing up, vi never celebrated any of the holidays other than a quick “merry Christmas” or “happy holidays!” But beyond that, the holidays never meant something to her since she grew up in a poorer area with people who couldn’t afford to celebrate much. That was until she met you.

When she met you, you introduced her to all your family’s traditions even outside of the holidays. Vi began to value them more and more, soon adding her own twists to them and sharing them with her sister.

The holidays were nearing and Vi couldn’t be more excited. You had invited her to go back home with you for the holidays and spend it together with your family. Vi squealed and thanked you, imedeatly asking if she could invite her sister and Isha. You happily agreed claiming “the more the merrier.” From that moment on, Vi knew that this year, she would get a real chance at celebrating the holidays.

On the car ride back to your home town, Jinx and Isha were sat in the back playing random games and bobbing along to the music peacefully flowing from the speakers. You and Vi had been switching between driving and being the passenger. Vi insisted on driving all the way until about halfway when her vision started to get blurry from looking at the snow covered roads and bright neon colored road signs. Currently, Vi was cozied up in the passenger seat with a blanket draped over her. She obviously had her hand intertwined with yours, claiming that it was “emotional support” for driving. Not like you minded anyways.

Soon enough, and after Jinx kept asking how much longer repeatedly, you pulled into a large driveway hitting bumps that jolted the two in the back awake. Once the car came to a full stop Jinx jumped out of the car and stretched, letting out a long sigh of relief.

“Finally, my gosh I thought we would driving forever.” The exclaimed as Isha climbed out of the car, copying Jinx’s actions. You and Vi only chuckled, stepping out of the car and rounding to the back to get the bags out of the trunk. Before you guys finished unloading, the door creaked open and a shouting sound rippled through the air,

“YOU GUYS MADE IT!! Oh my gosh I am so happy!!” Your mom exclaimed running across the porch, down the steps, and across the lawn. She quickly ran up to you and gave you a big hug, squeezing you so tightly that the air in your lungs felt stuck.

Chuckling you hugged your mom back exchanging little “I missed you!” While Vi unpacked the car with the little help of Jinx who was more focused on admiring the house. You wouldn’t call yourself rich, but you had a nice two story house that fit you and each of your whole family comfortably.

Your mom helped everyone bring their bags up the porch and inside the house.

“____, show the guests around the house and their rooms. I’ll get some snacks ready.” Your mom said, making her way to the kitchen. Nodding, you told everyone to follow you up the stairs.

The inside of the house wasn’t anything to special to you, but to the three guests trailing close behind you, it was like nothing they have ever seen before. The hallways were full of pictures from your childhood and different achievements, the carpets on the floor were actually clean and smelled like lavender. Isha couldn’t stop pointing at things, tugging on Jinx’s arm while they both looked in awe adding comments. Vi kept nudging them in the arm, hoping to tell them to shut up and be respectful without you hearing.

“This room is my brother’s, he’ll be arriving tomorrow. He’s not interesting anyways” you said as you passed by a door that was open halfway. One by one, the three peaked their heads in to get a sneak peek before following you again.

“This here is the bathroom and this…. This one is mine” you said, pushing open your bedroom door and stepping in. They all walked in and immediately started to inspect each crevice and item in your room.

“Holy shit this is your room?!” Vi called out, far gone from the respect she was trying to hold just a few moments ago. You chuckled and nodded, glancing around your own room as if it was your first time seeing it. There were posters and Polaroids scattered across the wall from, some clutter on the shelf’s and your dresser. It had been a while since you last decorated it, the most recent being high school.

“Yeah, I guess. It’s nothing special-“

“Nothing special!!! This is so cute!” Jinx exclaimed, cutting you off. Fair lights were hung lazily across the wall behind your bed. Speaking of your bed, you spent a good about of money on it, making sure it looked as comfy as possible.

“Alright, enough of my room. Let me show you the guest bedroom” you walked out of your room and down the hall to the guest bedroom. Inside held two twin beds, one for Isha and the other for Jinx. They both instantly ran to pick their beds, plopping down on the fluffy white comforter.

“Vi you can stay in my room or here if you want.” You say turning to face your pink-haired girlfriend. She gives you a knowing smile, the one where her eyes wrinkle and her pearly whites shine.

“Babe, I think you know the answer to that” you chuckle at her words, leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek.

“I’ll bring your bags up, just get comfy and make yourself at home.” You say before turning to leave the room.

—————-

After a few hours everyone is finally settled in and cozied on the couch. Each with a warm mug of steaming hot chocolate filling the air with a nostalgic feel. Large blankets are thrown across everyone lazily, you and Vi curled up under one in the corner of the couch. Which you and your brother fought over since apparently it is the “best spot.” A old Christmas movie was playing softly from the tv, but it was long forgotten as everyone would much rather chat amongst each other about the year.

Throughout all of Vi’s years on the earth, and all the holidays she spent at work or alone with her sister and a sad excuse of a Christmas tree, she never could have pictured spending it like this, surrounded by people she loves and who loves her back. Sudden laughter interrupted her thoughts as she snapped back into reality. She quickly looked over at you, smiling when she saw how happy you were. You looked over at her and your face softened, a welcoming smile lighting up your face.

“You good babe?” You asked leaning closer to her. It was that moment where she realized her eyes were watering. You lifted a hand to softly caress her face.

“I’m better than good, promise.” She says smiling. You only reply by smiling back and pulling her in for a soft kiss. You can taste not only the hot chocolate oh her lips but also the hope for a new beginning, a chance to start a fresh new life with you full of happy memories.

“Ewww guys not in front of Isha!” Jinx calls out from the other side of the couch, reaching for Isha and covering her eyes. You and Vi pull away before bursting out in laughter, everyone else following. She leans her head in the crook of your neck and you wrap your arms around her

You can tell that this will be one of many Christmases spent together.

———————-

[peachhcs]

hard launch or relaunch? → social media post

you all already know how this goes, i like starting each au with a social media soft launch, but technically since blaire and mack have already been together once call this a relaunch ? (i imagine blaire also having a private account at first so not many hockey boys follow her yet)

so excited for this au! inboxes are open for requests for our new lovely couple 🩵

au masterlist

mackcelebrini back in business ⚠️🔛

view all comments

user1 WOAH who is is gf???

user2 every day these hockey players are getting gfs and none of them are me 😔

eklund_72 since when did our 2nd rookie have a gf??

| mackcelebrini since right now

thombordeleau_ i’m impressed u and pup sure know how to pull

| mackcelebrini what a compliment coming from you

gabeperreault44 MACK GF ALERT!!!‼️

gabeperreault44 i see will is teaching you how to hard launch

| mackcelebrini i take all my pointers from him

ryan.leno_4 i’m impressed celly bring her to the lake house next!

| mackcelebrini the group keeps expanding 😊

lhughes_06 so i’m the only one without a gf rn? ok. i see how it is

| mackcelebrini sorry hughes 😔

user3 well whoever she is she looks adorable

user4 love seeing our man so happy

jackhughes hard launch afff okkk celly i see you

| mackcelebrini i guess technically it’s a relaunch 🤨

tofff73 at least you’re better at this than will is

| _willsmith2 HEY is that an insult??

| mackcelebrini i’ll take it 🤩

fabianzetterlund tooo good celly

| mackcelebrini 😎

jackthompsonn22 freshhhhh af

| mackcelebrini 💯

aram_minnetian this is goated

| mackcelebrini thank ya

user4 he said this is a relaunch?? does this mean he used to date her before?

| user5 i think so! they knew each other before this

fraserminten came back on insta to comment on this

| mackcelebrini wow thanks minty

henrythrun yuhhhh the goat has posted

| mackcelebrini 😤😤

samyhughes ADORABLE MACK AWW

| mackcelebrini THANKS SAMY

_willsmith2 this is technically a hard launch for me

| mackcelebrini lowkeyyy yeah

rutgermcgroarty looks like we have another rookie to chirp at

| mackcelebrini 😔

zeevbuium28 welcome back to the club 🙂‍↕️

| mackcelebrini thanks for accepting me in

beckettsennecke_ never thought i’d see you hard launching

| mackcelebrini i like to mix it up u know

teddystiga_ my man 🙌

| mackcelebrini 🙌🙌

coleeiserman i’m impressed tbh

| mackcelebrini i remember when you doubted me

blairestevenson wow my first post back! it feels so good

| mackcelebrini i missed seeing you in my feed 😻

aiden_celebrini so proud of u man

| mackcelebrini miss u

charlie_celebrini ur ugly

| mackcelebrini wow okay thanks

blairestevenson 3/8 down in sj

view all comments

mayaoneil ur so adorable b

| blairestevenson i love you m

lilyskates LOVE UR GORG BLAIREY

| blairestevenson LILLYYYYYY I LOVE U

_willsmith2 infiltrating the gf’s post

| blairestevenson wow thanks will

samyhughes i feel so special being accepted also ur so gorg wow

| blairestevenson stop ur making me blush

gabeperreault44 hellooo mack’s gf cool figure skating

| blairestevenson thanks!

ryan.leno_4 exclusive access to the rookie’s gf

| blairestevenson so far it’s you gabe will and his gf HAHA

mackcelebrini my girl 🩷

| blairestevenson so glad sj brought me back to you

carterstevenson ooh beach

| blairestevenson wow beach

aiden_celebrini good stuff blairey

| blairestevenson can’t tell if i missed seeing ur comments on my posts..

charlie_clelebrini SOOO GLAD u and my brother made up after two years

| blairestevenson me too ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

all the guys also 100% request to follow her but blaire gets scared of all the follow requests and only accepts will, gabe, ryan, and samy for now bc mack said so HAHA

[heroinesandstars]

Starter Calls

I won’t do this all the time, but since I’m just beginning, I’m going to link my blogs and a starter call for them! I’m not posting them all at once, but I’ll update this as I do so! I’m really looking forward to writing with you all.

@cardsofmystar - Sakura Kinomoto - starter call

@arabbitprincess - Kureha Mimachi - starter call

@guardianmew - Ichigo Momomiya - starter call

@roseamongthorns - Yui Komori - starter call

@blakesfortune - Daphne Blake - starter call

@xtraordinarykat - Kitty Pryde - starter call

@whatabloodygem - Elsa Bloodstone - starter call

[streamafterlaughter]

if hypothetically allegedly in minecraft i had another wip currently going on would you (my followers and readers the loveliest people) want it now or when im done with my current fic that may take months to finish if im being honest

i value your opinions and feedback i will be posting it at some point regardless and it is in very early stages but its a multi chapter so it will be another long haul

let me know plth thanks i will not take your votes personally either

[griefology]

good morning i had a weird tadpole dream so it’s safe to say bg3 has taken over my life

[nikki-tine]

HOLY SHIT?? /pos