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justagalwhowrites · 6 months

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New in Town - Ch. 9: Second New Year

Ringing in the New Year after you and Joel's first year together. The last chapter of New in Town, found in its entirety on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Smut :D. No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 6.3k

AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter

“Sarah, if you don’t stop fucking with that it’s never going to stay,” you said, glaring at her in the mirror as you drew on eyeliner.

“It’s driving me insane,” she groaned, leaning so close to the hotel bathroom mirror that she was fogging it with her breath, adjusting the false eyelashes for what had to be the millionth time.

“Yeah, because you keep fucking with them,” you said. “You have to give yourself time to adjust to them. Or just take them off because I’m not spending half the night fixing them for you, drawing the line in the sand now.”

“You are absolutely no fun,” she said but she smiled all the same. “It’s New Year’s Eve, I want to look extra good. Plus Nick thinks the long lashes are hot and I am ready for hotel room sex.”

“I didn’t hear that,” Maria called from the bedroom where she was putting on her dress.

“Hotel room sex, hotel room sex, hotel room sex!” Sarah called back.

You laughed, picking up your mascara.

“I don’t think it works like Beetlejuice where you say it enough times it just shows up.”

Sarah laughed back.

“Fuck I hope not,” she said. “Really don’t want to manifest hotel room sex in front of my aunt and my mom.”

She said the last word with a drawn out teasing edge and you had to pull the mascara wand away from your face so you didn’t end up with makeup in your eye from laughing so hard.

“Swear to God if you don’t stop calling me that I will marry your dad just to spite you,” you said once you calmed down again.

“You’re basically already married anyway,” Sarah said. “For the record, I would be fine with it.”

You paused for a second, putting more mascara on the wand and looking at her in the mirror.

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Yeah,” she smiled at you in her reflection. “But don’t expect Mother’s Day gifts from me if it ever happens.”

You snorted, returning to your makeup.

“Better get a bouquet, box of chocolates, the whole nine for holding your hair when you get drunk.”

You couldn’t believe it was already New Year’s Eve again. The last year had gone by so fast it didn’t seem like it could have contained quite as much as it did. But you’d spent almost the entire time so blissfully happy that it made sense that the time felt so damn short.

Things with Joel had been going so well before Sarah found out that it was hard to believe it could really get better, but it did. Not feeling like you were hiding from the most important person in both your lives was like losing a weight you didn’t even know you were carrying. Neither of you were dancing around talking about how you were spending your time now, not being careful about what pictures you sent her and not having to just pretend like a huge part of your life didn’t exist when talking with her.

When she went back to Seattle after Thanksgiving, the three of you started having weekly FaceTime calls, you and Joel sometimes on your couch or at his kitchen table or even in a hotel room in New Orleans once when you decided to get away for your first trip together as a couple.

That Christmas had been the best you’d ever had. Not that there was much competition but Joel and Sarah both had completely brought you into all their holiday traditions. The driving around to look at Christmas lights with a thermos of hot cocoa, the annual trip to Mi Tierra in San Antonio so you could properly appreciate the Christmas lights that apparently were up year round. When Sarah came back to town a few days before Christmas, she dragged you and Joel to the mall and made the three of you take a picture with Santa. You got some funny looks in line - three full blown adults with nary a kid in sight - but Sarah whispered something to woman getting ready to take the picture and she smiled and nodded, helping the three of you get arranged for the photo. You sat lightly on one of Santa’s knees, Sarah on the other, Joel leaning against the side of the large chair. Joel insisted on getting the actual printed photo and, when you picked it up, they also handed you a candy cane and a small Santa figurine. You frowned at it for a second.

“First Santa visits should be commemorated,” the woman behind the counter smiled. “Merry Christmas!”

You looked at Sarah for a second, worried you might cry and she smiled.

“You have a Christmas decoration now,” she said. “But if you really don’t want it at your place, we can add it to the Christmas village at Dad’s!”

You just hugged her and she laughed, hugging you back.

That Christmas, the figurine and the picture sat on the book shelf in your living room, right where you could see them from your couch. The perfect image of the kind of life you’d always wanted to have, one that was filled with people who loved you.

This year, the figurine and picture were at Joel’s because you were, too.

Your lease was up in the fall and, by that point, the two of you were having a hard time remembering the last time you’d slept apart. You were wondering how to broach the subject with Joel - did you just ask if you could move into his house? Was not quite a year of knowing each other too soon? Did you just find a new apartment and never mention it? - when he brought it up one night over dinner.

“Your lease is comin’ up soon, right?” He asked and you froze for a second, a bite of enchilada on your fork half way to your mouth.

“Yeah,” you said when you remembered how to move and respond again. “Six weeks I think? They want me to decide whether or not I’m staying within the next two…”

“Have you thought about if you might want to move in with me?” He asked, his jaw tense but his eyes soft. “Only if… you know… you thought you were ready for that. Just figure I’m at yours or you’re at mine most nights anyway and…”

“Joel,” you smiled, setting your fork down and leaning on the table with your arms crossed in front of you. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Only if you wanted,” he said quickly. “Not tryin’ to… I dunno… put pressure on you or something. Never tried to do this before so…”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. More at yourself than at Joel. Because of course he was thinking what you were thinking. Of course you were in the same place on this. Of course you were both nervous about bringing it up to each other.

“I’d love to move in with you,” you said once you were sure you had yourself together. “As long as you’re offering because that’s what you really want and not because you think you should.”

“Oh I want it,” he was smiling now and leaning toward you across the table. “Was considering just taking stuff from your place and moving it to mine, get you in the door before you even knew it was happening.”

“That what happened to my sexy underwear?” You teased.

“Nah,” he waved you off. “I stole those to jerk off with when you’re not there because you don’t live with me yet. Can have ‘em back when we unpack the moving truck.”

You moved in a few weeks later. Joel cleared out most of his closet, his jeans and button downs taking up only a small corner of it to begin with, and built you shelving for your purses and shoes. He made space for your things throughout his home, for your favorite pots and pans in the kitchen, for your decorations in the living room. Setting aside the bits and pieces of his life to make sure it could hold yours, too. If he’d asked you to marry him in that moment, you’d have said yes in a heartbeat.

“Oh shit,” you sighed, rifling through your makeup bag. “I think I left my fucking lipstick in my room…”

You went to get your room key from your clutch but Sarah plopped a tube of lipstick in front of you first.

“Use mine,” she said. “I’m almost ready and I don’t want to waste time with you up down three floors and all the way over to your room before we go to the party. I want cocktails, I want music and I want to flirt with my hot boyfriend while I wear a slutty dress.”

“Maria is still getting dressed, I’ve got five minutes…”

“No you don’t!” She called from the bedroom before coming to the bathroom door and turning around. “Zip me?”

You laughed and obeyed, Maria adjusting the dress a bit before turning back around.

“Hey sexy mama!” You whooped at her. “That looks like it was made for you.”

“Right?” She flung her long braids over her shoulder before admiring herself in the full length mirror on the bathroom door. “My pregnancy boobs have shown up but the bump is still in hiding. It’s the perfect dress moment, had to take advantage of it.”

“Hear that little one?” Sarah said, looking toward Maria’s lower stomach. “You’re making your mom look hot!”

“Hotter,” you corrected. “They’re making their mom look hotter.”

You settled for Sarah’s lipstick and the three of you headed for the elevator to go meet up with the guys.

Your first New Year’s Eve with Joel had been far more low key. Sarah was in town and Joel invited Tommy and Maria over to watch the ball drop. You’d ordered pizza and gotten drunk and played charades with your boyfriend’s family and, at midnight, kissed Joel so deeply that you could taste the champagne on his tongue.

This year, you had plenty to celebrate. It was Maria and Tommy’s last one before they became parents - you highly doubted they’d be up until midnight next year. Sarah had gotten promoted and you’d gotten her a job at the Austin branch in August. She had moved back to town just a few months before you moved in with Joel and the three of you had found a comfortable - if unusual - dynamic as a family. And it felt like you had finally found everything you’d ever truly wanted.

Instead of staying home this New Year’s Eve, you all decided to go to a party at one of the nice hotels in Houston. You’d all gotten hotel rooms so no one had to drive and the boys had all gone on ahead to the rooftop bar to hold a table while the three of you got ready to go.

“Crap, one sec,” Sarah said, frowning at her phone as the three of you went for the elevator. “Left something in the room, wait for me, OK? I don’t want to try to find them on my own!”

You and Maria watched her run back to her room - where the three of you had been getting ready - and you frowned as she tottered on her high heels.

“Is she acting weird?” You asked as Maria leaned against the wall.

“Sarah?” Maria laughed. “She’s always weird.”

She came back a few minutes later, tugging her dress down as she went and a little breathless when she got there.

“OK,” she smiled and took a deep breath. “Now we’re good!”

You were almost giddy as you rode the elevator up to the party, feeling the thud of music through the elevator doors before they opened.

It was hard to say why you were just so excited. It wasn’t like you’d never been to a party before - you and Sarah had rung in the New Year at a party a lot like this one that your office had handled the advertising for in Seattle one year - but it felt like something new. Like you were stepping into the first year of your life where everything had finally fallen into place.

“Hey!” Tommy yelled, standing and waving his arm over his head as he saw the three of you leave the elevator. You could barely hear him over the thud of the bass. “Over here!”

“How many beers do you think he’s had?” Maria asked conspiratorially and you laughed.

“Probably the same number mine has,” you replied, smiling at Joel as he craned his neck to get a better look at you.

“Holy hell woman,” he said, getting out of the round booth as you got to the table. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and dropped his voice low. “Not sure I’m gonna take that dress off you later, might need to leave it on.”

You smiled as he gave you a squeeze and you sat down, Joel sliding in beside you, one hand of his going below the table to the inside of your thigh.

One thing that hadn’t changed in the last year was just how insatiable the two of you were for each other. You kept waiting for it to calm down a bit, to stop looking at him and immediately start thinking of how to get him alone and naked as quickly as possible. But Joel was still the single sexiest man you’d ever seen and was still far and away the best in bed. You couldn’t help but want to fuck him all day every day. You were just thankful he seemed to feel the same way about you.

One of your favorite things about living with Joel was your after work routine. When you managed to make it so you left the office around the same time Joel left his job site, you’d join him in the shower, your hair in a knot on top of your head to keep from getting too soaked, Joel still a little sweaty and dirty from a hard day’s work. Sometimes, you just enjoyed each other. You loved the quiet intimacy of it, of being in such a private space together in just your skin, helping him wash the day from his body before he pulled you against him under the water. Other times, Joel pressed you against the cool tile and fucked into you, hard and fast and eager, making your back arch as your leg wrapped around him, the heat of his mouth and the steam filling you when you kissed him.

The new routines had just given you more reasons and opportunities to fuck, it seemed, instead of sex getting lost in the monotony of daily life. Sometimes it was in the middle of late night TV when you were both getting tired on the couch. Sometimes it was when you were putting away laundry. Sometimes it was when you were making dinner.

It was just that, sometimes, it required… additional boundaries.

Sarah had a key to Joel’s place, of course, but she quickly learned that she needed to announce herself before just coming in the door when she wasn’t expected, her walking in the house without warning when he was deep inside of you while you were draped over the kitchen counter was a little too close for comfort for all three of you.

“I have literally never wanted to know less about your sex life,” she shuddered a few hours later when you were sitting in Joel’s back yard, fully clothed with a beer in your hand.

You laughed.

“Never wanted you to know less about it so that works just fine for me.”

You, Joel and Sarah all had dinner together at least once a week, another routine you’d come to love, and you got Sarah all to yourself most days over lunch, happy for the chance to laugh with your best friend.

You weren’t sure life could get much better.

“Oh sweet!” Sarah said as the waitress came by the table, tray of drinks in hand, passing a cosmopolitan to Sarah. “Who knew this was just what I wanted?”

“Happy to take credit for that,” Nick smiled, kissing her cheek and you smiled at him. He was a relatively new addition to Sarah’s life but he seemed promising. You’d never seen her quite so giddy over a guy before and you were trying not to mention it so you wouldn’t jinx it.

When she finally owned up to being hung up on the man, though, you were going to start teasing her as relentlessly as she’d been teasing you. You were getting double wedding jokes lined up and ready, waiting for the perfect moment to hit her with it.

But it was a holiday. You’d take it easy on her for a little while longer. Assuming she stopped calling you Mom.

Joel had been paying attention too, it seemed, and the server handed you a mojito. Appropriate, since you’d just been lamenting the fact that you didn’t have fresh mint at home just two nights before.

“How often are you really gonna muddle mint for a drink?” Joel asked, barely contained smile on his face.

“At least once in a while!” You laughed. “Come on, we could do a whole herb garden in the yard…”

“You are not gonna keep a garden alive.”

“Yes I will!” You protested. He raised his eyebrows at you, incredulous. “If I have the motivation of cocktails I will.”

“Fine,” he sighed but still smiled, kissing your forehead. “In spring I’ll build you a garden and you can kill as many herbs as you want, Beautiful.”

“Is this supposed to bribe me into you not making me a garden?” You teased, taking a sip of the drink.

“Baby, I will make you whatever makes you smile,” he kissed your exposed shoulder. “But if I’m saving the lives of some poor, innocent plants by ordering you a cocktail…”

You laughed and kissed him, the scratch of his facial hair on your skin comforting and familiar.

The party really picked up not long after you got there and you, Sarah and Maria went to dance while the guys hung back to talk for a bit.

“You don’t think they’re being too hard on him do you?” Sarah asked, watching the table.

“Oh I’m sure they’re being super nice,” you said. “Joel and Tommy have never been protective of you, not once.”

“Oh God,” she groaned but she smiled.

“Wouldn’t worry too much,” you laughed. “It looks like he’s weathering it well.”

“Hold on,” Maria smiled and shook her head. “We can get him some help…”

She started waving to Tommy, who clapped Nick on the shoulder and got out of the booth to join his wife on the dance floor. You looked at Joel, eyebrows raised, until he met your gaze and you saw him sigh and smile before heading your way.

You put your arms around his neck and kissed him, pressing tightly to him and feeling every line of him through your clothes. His hands went to your waist, pulling you closer.

“You tryin’ to distract me?” He asked when you pulled away.

“Trying to get you to play nice,” you teased.

“Always play nice,” he said as you turned around in his hold, your ass going back against his hardening length. He lowered his lips to your ear, his breath hot on your skin. “Except when you ask me not to.”

You resisted the urge to drag him back to your hotel room right that second. Instead, you pressed yourself harder against him, moving your body in time to the pulsing, thrumming rhythm. His hands slid to your hips and you couldn’t help but think of how they felt on your bare skin.

But you managed to keep it together for a few songs, dancing until you were breathless and you really couldn’t take it anymore. You draped yourself around Joel again, pressing your lips to his ear.

“Order me a water and another mojito,” you said, your hand sliding into his pocket, brushing his half hard cock through his jeans, as you grabbed your phone. “And check your texts.”

You didn’t give him a chance to respond, just meeting his wide eyes for a moment before slipping into the crowd. You went around to the pool area of the rooftop, far quieter than the bar and the dance floor, the lounge chairs all stacked up next to a storage space that looked like it would provide the perfect cover from the dance floor. You took a selfie with just a glimpse of the thudding party in the background and texted it to him.

“Come find me.”

It didn’t take him long, coming around the corner while glancing back over his shoulder, looking nervous. You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him into you, your back against the storage room.

“You are up to no good,” he said, pressing you back against the wall, his mouth covering yours, his body warm against the cool night air. “Tryin’ to get us kicked out of the damn hotel?”

His hand went to your breast, anyway.

“We can keep our clothes on,” you panted against him. “Be very well behaved. Like that time in the bathroom.”

“Fuck, Beautiful,” he groaned, putting his thigh between your legs, your skirt covering part of his jeans. He rocked his hips against you, his hands going to your waist, the outline of his hard cock against your stomach. “Wanna make me come in my pants like a fucking teenager?”

“Don’t think we’re making it to midnight any other way,” you were needy, aching as you ground your pussy down on the straining muscle of his leg.

“Still gonna let me fuck you later?” He kissed down your neck, rutting harder against you, your hands on his shoulders, grip tightening.

“You think I’m starting a new year without you inside me as soon as possible you’re insane.”

He laughed a little and nipped at your collarbone before pulling you tighter against his leg, making you moan. You started working yourself harder and faster against him, pulling him tighter to you, your wetness soaking your panties.

“You’re close, aren’t you, Baby?” He asked, voice dark. Your motions stuttered but you nodded frantically against him. “Gonna come all over my fucking leg aren’t you? Come from just riding my fucking thigh?”

You were close enough that you’d lost the ability to speak. You just nodded again and he kissed you, hard and messy and deep and you pressed yourself firmly against his leg as you fell apart, the tight coil inside yourself snapping as your clit throbbed against him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He gasped as he pressed his cock hard against you and you felt him throbbing there, spilling into his jeans before slumping against you. His nose brushed yours for a moment and you smiled, kissing him lightly.

“You’re going to kill me,” he laughed a little breathlessly. “More than a year into this and you still want me to fuck you so bad you’re dragging me away from a party?”

“That’s nothing,” you teased. “Wait until we’re really old and we’re finding ways to sneak around the nursing home.”

He laughed and kissed you again.

“Love you so fuckin’ much.”

It was easier to focus on the party after that. Tommy gave Joel a look when you made it back to the table and Joel told him to mind his own business and you laughed and drank your mojito.

By the time midnight rolled around, you’d been pleasantly tipsy for more than an hour, draping yourself over Joel at every opportunity when you weren’t dancing with Sarah and Maria. As the countdown started, the six of you crowded onto the dance floor with everyone else, champagne in hand, Joel’s arm around you as he held you to his side.

“Three, two, one!”

Joel turned you to him and kissed you before you’d even had a chance to yell happy New Year and you sank into him, almost forgetting about the drink in your hand until some of it dribbled down your wrist, making you laugh against his lips.

“Couldn’t let a second of the year go by before I kissed you for the first time,” he said, his lips still close to yours. The knot of heat and wanting that had eased after your antics earlier was back with full force.

“Good,” you said quietly, drinking in the hungry look in his eyes.

“It’s supposed to be a toast, you insatiable weirdos,” Sarah laughed and you laughed back, separating from Joel far enough to raise your glasses and toast with your new found family.

It wasn’t long before all of you made your way to the elevators, piling into one with a handful of strangers, you happy for the excuse to stay pressed tightly against Joel.

“Good luck!” Tommy said, a teasing edge to his voice when the doors dinged open on your floor.

You frowned at him, confused, as the doors closed and you laughed a little as Joel led you back to the room.

“Why do you need luck? Is Tommy under the impression that you have to work to get sex out of me?” You teased. “Because it’s sweet that you’d protect my honor that way but we both know that’s a damn lie.”

“Tommy’s just a dumbass,” Joel replied. “Ignore him, that’s what I do.”

You laughed, the tail end of your buzz waning.

“Thinking we should take full advantage of that jacuzzi tub,” you said as Joel unlocked the hotel room door. “And use it to research the investment of a hot tub in the back yard…”

“You’re insatiable,” he teased, opening the door for you.

You laughed and were so busy looking at him - his thick, dark hair that was flecked with gray; his plush lips; his soft eyes - that it took you a second to realize there were roses and petals all over the room, a bottle of wine chilled in a bucket on the small table.

“Joel?” You looked back at him and he just shrugged, smiling.

You went further into the room and realized that it wasn’t just flowers and wine. There were framed pictures of you and Joel from the last year of your lives together. One of the two of you on Bourbon Street, another from when you decided to actually take those wine tasting classes you’d talked about, one from your second Longhorn’s game. There were at least a dozen, each one making it look so, so obvious that you made each other happy. That you gave each other the lives you wanted.

You picked up the picture by the bedside, the first selfie you’d ever taken together. You were hiking and you’d held your arm out far enough to try to capture some of the view behind you. You were smiling hugely at the camera, hair grimy with sweat, Joel’s arm around your shoulders. But he wasn’t looking at the camera. Instead, he was looking at you. Looking at you like you were the only thing worth looking at. Looking at you like you made him happier than just about anything else on Earth.

“What…” You trailed off, looking up from the picture to see Joel, on one knee with a box in his hands at the foot of the bed.

You gasped and jumped, your hands covering your mouth on instinct, eyes wide. Your feet moved before you really realized what was happening and it seemed sudden that you were right in front of him.

“Joel,” you breathed, trembling hands slowly leaving your face.

“For a very long time,” he said, his voice assured. “It felt like I’d gotten the only good thing I was going to get out of life. I had Sarah and seemed wrong to ask for more than that so I wasn’t lookin’ for it. Wasn’t lookin’ for you. But then I found you - or you found me, anyway - and I realized just how good life could be as long as I got to live it next to you.

“You are the single best person I’ve ever met. You’re so smart and funny and creative and kind and the most fun I’ve ever had and I can’t imagine anything better than getting to live the rest of my life with you. Will you make me the happiest man on Earth and marry me?”

***

Joel wasn’t sure his heart had ever beat this fast. Maybe when Sarah was first born and there were the torturous few seconds of silence before she started crying, not sure how anything about pregnancy or babies worked. Definitely never since.

But the silence between you seemed to drag on for an eternity even though he knew it could have only been a second or two. That didn’t stop his heart from racing.

“Yes,” you nodded, your voice thick, tears in your eyes. “Yes, yes, yes, yes yes!”

You damn near tackled him and he laughed, catching you and holding onto you as he lowered the two of you to the ground on a bed of rose petals.

Joel, Tommy and Nick had been in here getting everything set up while Sarah and Maria kept you busy in Sarah’s room. There was a brief moment of panic when Sarah texted that the three of you were headed to the party and Joel had to ask her to buy at least two minutes because they were walking to the elevator themselves.

“I’m so happy for you, man,” Tommy said, clapping Joel on the shoulder as they headed up to the party. “You deserve this, you really fuckin’ do.”

“She ain’t said yes yet,” Joel said, feeling the nerves all sudden and hot under his skin. “Don’t jinx it.”

“She’ll say yes,” Tommy said, sounding so confident. “Don’t ask me WHY but that woman adores you. She’s gonna love it.”

He hoped you did. He hoped you loved the idea at all, that you loved the proposal, that you loved the ring. Sarah had helped pick that part out so he was more confident of that, finding a piece that was elegant without looking dated, something that he hoped you’d like wearing for the rest of your life.

Because that’s what he wanted. He wanted you, wanted to make you happy, for the rest of your life.

He slid the ring onto your finger, the diamond catching the light as he did.

“Are you serious?” You asked, looking from the ring to him.

“Serious about spending the rest of my life with you?” He asked. “Can’t think of anything better.”

You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him, hard and needy. He leaned into it for a moment before he pulled back from you.

“Should move to the bed,” he breathed. “Gotta treat my fiancee right.”

You just nodded quickly and Joel got up before helping you to your feet.

He tugged your dress up and over your head - as much as he wanted to fuck you in the sexy little thing you’d been tempting him with all night, the need to feel your skin was too great - and eased you down onto the bed.

You moved to the middle of it and Joel got undressed, his eyes watching you hungrily, the glint of his ring on your finger making him somehow even harder. You removed your bra and cast it aside before you slipped your panties down your legs and tossed them to the side, leaving you exposed and bare. You were everything it seemed like he’d ever wanted and you were his, the proof of it right there on your hand. He fisted his cock, pumping himself once, twice, as he climbed between your legs.

He wanted to make this last. He wanted to go down on you and swallow your pleasure until you were screaming with it. He wanted to kiss every inch of your skin. He wanted to tease you with his fingers until you were begging for his cock. But he wasn’t sure he could, not that moment. He had a feeling you wouldn’t be leaving the bed for a few days after this.

“Joel,” you panted, watching him, pupils blown and back arched. He smiled. For some reason, you wanted him like he wanted you.

“Yes, Mrs. Miller?” He breathed, settling between your open legs, the apex of your thighs hot against his skin. You moaned and rocked your hips up against him, your needy little clit pressing into his skin.

“Fuck,” you moaned, closing your eyes, fingers gripping his bicep tightly. “Love the sound of that…”

“You have no idea, Beautiful,” he said, kissing you, grinding his cock against your dripping slit. You moaned, the movement of your hips stuttering for a moment before you adjusted the angle so the tip of him was catching on your entrance with ever pass, just enough for the most sensitive part of him to be enveloped in your tight, wet heat.

“Need you,” you were almost gasping with it, desperate and wanting. “Please, please, need to feel you, I need…”

“Always going to give you what you need, Baby,” he said, his cock dipping further into you this time before he pulled back and pushed himself against your clit again. “Always gonna take care of you, always.”

He pushed into you then, firm but not to fast, your breath catching on your throat as he did. Joel kissed you, trying not to think about how damn good you felt, how it seemed like he belonged right there, deep inside you.

“Fuck,” your nails dug into him but he held on. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good how do you feel this fucking good?”

He could only moan in response, fucking into you, feeling you open up to him, your walls gripping him tight. He stayed still inside you for a moment, savoring it, the feeling of you around him while he was over you, the way you held onto him.

But he couldn’t last that way for long. You - his fiancee. His fiancee, no one else’s, you belonged to no one but him - felt too damn good for him to last too long inside of you and he had to move, he had to.

So he did, starting a little slower but still firm, pressing his hips into you so your hot little clit was against his skin.

He could feel you starting to tighten around him, like your body was trying to pull him deeper somehow, your lips messy and desperate when they found his, trialing little kisses over his body when they don’t.

“That’s it, Beautiful,” he panted into you. “Come for me, can feel how close you are, just let go for me, let me feel you. Need to feel you…”

You gasped his name and pressed your whole body tight against him as you came around him, your pussy fluttering around him, working his cock, all warm and soft trying to pull him as deep as you could take him. He fucked you through it, hardly able to hold off his own orgasm, the aftershocks of yours still rippling through your tight channel when he emptied himself into you until he didn’t even have the strength to hold himself up anymore, collapsing on you, his head over your shoulder so he could smell your skin and your hair. Fuck, he loved that smell. Fuck, he loved you.

After a minute, he adjusted the two of you so you were draped over his chest, your arms all soft and pliant, close enough that he could feel your heartbeat on his skin, feel your soft, little breaths on him. You held up your left hand, turning the ring back and forth in the light.

“You’re sure about this?” You asked, glancing up at him as you fidgeted with the ring.

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything,” he said. “Would make you Mrs. Miller tomorrow if you’d let me.”

You laughed a little at that, putting your hand down on his chest and taking a deep breath.

“Doesn’t seem fair,” you said softly.

“What doesn’t?”

“You’ve given me so much,” you said. “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted - everything. Feels like I’m not holding up my end.”

“You kiddin’ me?” He scoffed. “You’re so perfect I have to remind myself that you’re real sometimes, that I’m not just imagining you. You make me the luckiest man on Earth every damn day by just breathing in the same room as me. If anything’s not fair, it’s that I got too greedy asking you to marry me. Should know to quit when I’m this far ahead.”

You laughed and pressed your lips into his chest, looking at the ring again, twisting it this way and that with your thumb.

“Make you a deal,” you said, adjusting your head so you were looking at him.

“What’s your proposal?” He asked, teasing.

“You take care of me,” you said. “Make sure I’m not getting too overwhelmed or overdoing it at work or just getting too in my own head. I’ll take care of you, make sure you take time for yourself, make sure you relax, make sure you know how great you are. Deal?”

He smiled a little.

“Deal, Mrs. Miller.”

You smiled bigger.

“Excellent, Mr. Miller.”

He kissed your forehead.

“Don’t have to change your last name, you know,” he said, giving you a squeeze. “I can always just call you that for my own damn enjoyment without making it official.”

You laughed a little.

“No, I want to change it,” you said. “Sarah was right all along. I think I’m going to make a great Miller.”

A/N: Ahhh! I hope you all loved reading the story of Joel and Sarah's best friend as much as I loved sharing it! These two are so fun and so sweet, I'm so glad I got to give them the happy ending they deserved.

Thank you so so much for being here, for following along with this little story that started as a one shot based on a request that came in after I wrote another one shot as a request. I so appreciate that you're here, that you've spent your time with this fic and these characters and all of your support. This corner of the internet means everything to me and it's because you're a part of it <3 Love you!

Taglist: @fanficismydrug

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #new in town #joel miller smut

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looooooooomis · 3 years

Text

FINAL GIRL | FIVE

You were his final girl. And there was no chance in hell that anyone or anything was going to mess that up.

p a r t five | t h e c a b i n (part I)

masterlist here

pairing: Billy Loomis x f!reader word count: 5.6k (I’M SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY) warnings: s m u t (18 +!!!!!)

A/N: after 8 months of MIA, SHE’S BACK BABY!!! this is part 1 of 2 of our fav couple being at the cabin x next chapter will have soft moments I promise lmao

You should have been paying more attention.

If you’d been paying more attention, you wouldn’t have had five sets of eyes currently watching your every move, waiting for an answer you didn’t have. Why had you thought it was a good idea to stay up as late as you had packing your overnight bag for the cabin? If you had gone to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t have been as braindead as you currently were and, if you hadn’t been braindead, you wouldn’t have wound up in whatever ring of hell you were currently stuck in as your friends stared at you as though you’d grown a second head.

You pleaded with your tongue to say anything, pleaded for your brain to register a decent enough lie to make this uncomfortable silence end but nothing came out of your mouth. Only a pathetic hum and a gusto of forced laughter.

You wanted to die.

It should have been an easy enough answer to what was an even easier question. One that you’d practiced answering for the last two days and yet, as the moment for the lie came and went, you were left scrambling like a fucking moron.

You didn’t dare look at Billy as Sid curled into his side knowing if you managed to catch his coffee-coloured stare, you’d only be met with something between terror and amusement as you royally shit the bed. So, instead, you did the next best thing. You replayed the question over and over again in your head until you were driven mad.

‘Are you up for a movie this weekend?’

It was a simple enough question, one you’d managed to decline easily enough but, as Tatum frowned and asked the one question you were expecting to hear, your mind went blank.

‘Why? What are you doing?’

The answer you were supposed to say: I have to babysit my cousin in Santa Rosa all weekend. The answer they got? Silence. Pure, awkward as fuck, silence.

“Earth to Y/N,” Tatum laughed, brows furrowing. “Are you alive?”

“Sorry,” you huffed out a quiet laugh and shook your head, “I barely slept last night, I’m braindead.”

While it wasn’t a lie, you were still on edge. You’d think after months of sneaking around with the asshole sitting in front of you that you would have chilled out a little more but not today. Maybe it was the nerves of a full weekend away with Billy Loomis as his girlfriend hosted a fucking movie night sans her boyfriend and best friend – but something was making you stumble over what should have been second nature to you.

“You feeling okay?” Sid, the angel she was, asked with a small frown. Your stomach twisted in the familiar way it always did when your sweet friend showed concern. Concern which you most definitely didn’t deserve. “You seem…off.”

It would have been so easy to confess your dark little twisted affair with Billy right then and there. To just open your mouth and let the truth of everything you’d been doing behind her back play out. But you knew it would break her heart and, more than that, you were a fucking coward.

“I’m fine, Sid,” you smacked on a small smile and leaned into your locker. You had one more class until you were home free. Free of your friends’ inquiring eyes, free of Biology, free of Woodsboro. If you managed to get through this incredibly uncomfortable moment. “And I would if I could, trust me. I have to babysit my little cousin in Santa Rosa.” You feigned disappointment with a small frown. You could see Stu’s lips tug up in mild amusement out of the corner of your eye. “She’s nine, so if I don’t come back on Monday, know that she annoyed me to death.”

Randy scoffed and casually threw his arm around your neck. “Every day I’m thankful I don’t have any snot-nosed kids in my family. Losing my weekend to babysit? I’d rather rot.”

Despite your guilt, you managed a small smile as you looked across at him. “I think the kid would rather you rot, too. You’d be a terrible babysitter.”

“She’s right,” Tatum smirked, “you’d show the kid one of your weirdo movies where a girl with big tits is running helplessly away from her killer. It’d scar the kid for life.”

“Or,” Randy mused, “prepare them for the real world. Put some hair on their chest and all that shit.”

“Furthering my point, Meeks, you’d be a shit babysitter.” You laughed. “But, yeah, I’ll be suffering at the hands of a nine-year-old, so you guys have fun without me.”

“How about you, lover boy?” Tatum asked, looking across at Billy. “Will you be joining us this weekend?”

You should have averted your eyes. Should have done anything besides wait, with bated breath, to see what Billy would say. Slowly, those brown eyes tapered over towards you just briefly before looking at Tatum. With a casual shrug of his shoulders, Billy shook his head and leaned into Sid. “Can’t,” he merely said, “I’m going up north with my dad. He wants to get some of his affairs in order or something, I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “All I know is I was promised free beer if I helped him. So, I’m helping him.”

If Sid caught onto his lie, her face didn’t betray her once. And, as she looked up at her boyfriend with doting eyes, you couldn’t help but feel that pang of shame slice into your gut once again. She believed him. She always believed him. Believed you. Regardless of how good it felt to have Billy, that shame of knowing just who it was unwittingly hurting in the process never dissipated.

“You sure you guys won’t need help?” Sid asked, further digging that knife of shame into your chest. “Besides this movie, I’ve got nothing else going on this weekend.”

“Real nice,” Randy teased. “She’d rather watch Billy’s dad punch away at a fucking calculator then sit down with her nearest and dearest.”

Billy ignored Randy entirely as he glanced down at the brunette. “I’m sure,” he affirmed, giving her a quick squeeze. “Enjoy the movie night. I’ll be there for the next one.”

He lied so effortlessly, so casually, that it should have unnerved you. But it didn’t. Because for as good of a liar Billy Loomis was, you were right here with him. This dangerous little game the two of you were playing was becoming second nature to you and for as much as it pained you to see Sidney get lied to, you couldn’t help yourself.

You loved Billy. Billy loved you. Right person, wrong time. Only rather than wait like you knew you should have, Billy’s glow was much too enthralling to miss. You were both moths to each other’s’ flames and no amount of guilt or shame was strong enough to outweigh the otherworldly affliction the two of you had for one another.

The bell signifying your final class rung out, snapping you out of your brief reverie as you blinked and focused on pushing Randy off of you. “Want to drive me to the bus station?” You asked him. “I don’t want to drive all the way to Santa Rosa, so I bought a bus ticket.”

“Tonight?” Randy considered it briefly before shrugging. “Sure, I guess. I’ve got a shift tonight at seven, though. When’s your bus leave?”

“Six thirty,” you lied, mainly doing this so that should anyone drive by your house this weekend and see your car still neatly parked in your driveway, they wouldn’t bat an eye. “I owe you.”

“Yeah, you do,” Randy agreed. “And, lucky for you, I accept a lot of different payment options.” He wriggled his brows, earning a playful smack from you and an annoyed glare from Billy. Thankfully, Randy didn’t catch onto the latter. “Pick you up at six?”

You nodded. “Perfect.”

With your eyes flickering to Billy’s once more, you managed to shoot everyone a quick smile before disappearing down the hall towards Biology. Just how you’d managed to dance your way out of what could have been an incredibly awkward moment, you didn’t know. But as you felt that weighty stare of Billy’s on your back as you walked away, there was an air of excitement that swallowed you whole.

No matter how much guilt you felt, no matter how sick it made you to see Sidney get hurt, even if she didn’t quite know about just yet, there was a much larger part of you that couldn’t wait to get Billy alone.

Because for the first time in the seven months since you’d started this torrid little affair, you were finally getting Billy all to yourself. No prying eyes, no secret kisses, no having to hide every part of your relationship with the man. None of that.

This weekend, it was you and it was Billy.

And you couldn’t fucking wait.

»»-------------¤-------------««

Randy, being the superstar he was, had dropped you off at the station a little after six-fifteen and by six-thirty-two, just around the time the actual bus was leaving for Santa Rosa, you were scrambling into Billy’s car with a wild grin on your face.

Just how the pair of you had managed to pull it off, especially given your brain lapse earlier in the day, was beyond you. But, as Billy tore off down the main street leading to the freeway, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of freedom engulf you the farther and farther you got from town.

It was exhilarating.

And, as you glanced at Billy, who couldn’t have looked more like a movie star with his dark locks blowing with the wind cascading in through his open window, you couldn’t help but reach across the divide to gently squeeze his jean-clad thigh.

“Thank you,” you found yourself muttering and as those brown eyes met yours, you couldn’t help but grin. “For your stupid key proposal. In hindsight, it was very sweet.”

The dimple in Billy’s cheek deepened as his own grin grew. “Glad you let me steal you away?”

You loosened your seatbelt momentarily and leaned across to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Very glad.” You made a move to pull away but stopped when he gently grabbed your chin with the hand not holding the wheel. “What—”

The kiss, while dangerously stupid, was short and sweet but the emotion behind it, the genuine happiness that exuded out of Billy in those few seconds was palpable. “I really do fucking love you, you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it,” you hummed and slinked back into your seat. When his large hand found your thigh, he gave it a firm squeeze that sent shockwaves throughout your whole body.

“Not going to say it back?” He teased, giving you a sidelong glance as he drew nearer to the freeway.

“I’d rather show it.” Rather than put your seatbelt back on, you shimmed in your seat and leaned into him as your fingers scraped along his thighs towards the button of his jeans. “Eyes on the road, Loomis.”

Easier said than done, Billy thought, torn between watching the road and watching you unzip his jeans. Raising his ass out of the seat just long enough to allow you to tug his pants down his thighs, the second Billy saw yours eyes light up as his now somewhat erect cock sprung free of his jeans, keeping his eyes on the road seemed impossible. But, the second he saw that pretty mouth of yours perk up in anticipation, it was game over. “Are you trying to get us killed?”

A low chuckle escaped your lips as you began to pump his length with your hand. “Focus on the road, Billy.”

“You say that like it’s easy.” Not being able to keep his hands off of you, he reached for your nipple and gave it a pinch through your shirt. “Take your shirt off, baby.”

“Shut up and drive.” You chided him, shimming in your seat so that you were on your knees leaning over the console. His cock was rock hard now and, as you ran your tongue alongside his length, from the base of it all the way up to coax your tongue along the precum that had gathered along his head, you felt him shiver beneath you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, tangling his fingers through your hair. You were too fucking good with that mouth of yours.

Still pumping the base of his cock with one hand, you swirled your tongue along the tip of his dick again before taking that perfectly girthy cock in your mouth. His grip tightened on your hair and your eyes watered as he pushed your head down to fully take the length of him inside of your mouth. He heard you gag on him but even as his grip eased up, you continued your pursuit of deepthroating him.

His breathing was shallow as he felt your hot mouth all over him. Between the sounds of your wet mouth taking him in and the occasional gag as you choked on his length, Billy was in heaven.

But having you this close as you fucked him with your mouth whilst still fully clothed was killing him. He needed to feel you. He wanted to feel your juices on his fingers and running down those perfect fucking thighs as he fingerfucked you. He wanted to hear you moan, feel you moan on his cock as he made you feel as good as you were making him feel.

He wanted all of you, needed all of you.

Trying his damnedest not to shut his eyes as your mouth brought him closer to the edge, he reached beneath you to work on your own zipper but when that proved to be impossible, a frustrated growl tore out of his lips. “Undo your pants.” He hissed through bared teeth.

You hummed against his dick which nearly sent him into the other land of traffic. “No,” you purred, “I want to make you feel good.”

With one hand on the wheel and the other now gliding up and down your back as you fucked him with your mouth, Billy couldn’t help but buck into your mouth as you began to massage his balls. He was going to bust and soon if he wasn’t careful.

You were too fucking good and he was too fucking in love with you not to get lost in the way you made him feel.

“Touch yourself, at least,” he breathed out, desperate to see that pretty cunt. “Please, baby.”

Not granting him the satisfaction, you simply dug your nails into his thighs and moaned onto his cock and the sensation of it alone was almost enough to make him come down your throat. It seemed to slither around his cock, making him twitch and buck into your mouth.

But it was the second you moaned out his name as you swirled your wet mouth along the head of his dick one final time, swallowing back his precum with a contented hum, that Billy blew his loud inside of your mouth.

For a good five seconds, he didn’t care if he crashed the goddamn car as he watched you swallow his seed. He was bucking into your mouth, his breathing was ragged, as you guzzled him back and, as you finally released his cock with a pop, Billy almost lost it.

With a devilish grin, you simply wiped a finger along the edge of your lips and leaned back into your seat with a satisfied glimmer in your eyes. You knew you’d be in for it once he got his hands on you at the cabin, but for now, as you watched him lamely try and pull his jeans up his body to cover his slowly softening cock, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s the matter, Billy?” You teased, fastening your seatbelt back up. “You look a little rattled.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he simpered, not bothering with the zipper or button of his jeans. Instead, he reached across the divide and grabbed for your hand as he ghosted his lips across your knuckles. “Just wait until we get to the cabin.”

With your suspicions confirmed, you couldn’t help but beam across at him as you drove further and further away from Woodsboro. That was definitely a threat and good god were you excited for its execution.

»»-------------¤-------------««

By the time you’d pulled into the Loomis family cabin, it was pitch black outside.

The moon was too high in the sky and only a sliver of its light poked through the tall pine trees that surrounded the small house but, even with the low light surrounding you, the shadows that danced along the lake was enough to bring out a small smile as you quietly made your way out of the car. You didn’t need full sun to see the beauty surrounding you and the smell of the fresh air mixed with the spice of pine made any ounce of nerves filter out of you.

You were happy.

Unreservedly so.

Glancing across the roof towards Billy, he seemed almost distracted as he looked around at the familiar surroundings. You couldn’t quite tell if he was feeling as happy as you were in those brief moments, but you couldn’t quite blame him for that. The cabin held a lot of memories within it, many of which you knew included his mother. Where you felt freed and excited, you could tell the weight of his current whereabouts was heavy on his shoulders.

“Hey,” you muttered, slicing into the quietude around you. Walking around the front of the car, those brown eyes found yours as you circled your arms around his middle. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he assured, but his voice was low and distant. All the same, however, his strong arms enveloped you as he kissed your hairline. “Lost in a memory, I guess.”

You nodded into the crook of his neck but said nothing. He needed time to decompress, to familiarize himself with a house he hadn’t been in since his mother left. So, you’d give him that time.

For what must have been minutes, the two of you simply stood at the helm of porch holding onto one another. It wasn’t until Billy placed another quick kiss to your forehead that you felt his arms slowly fall only to grasp your hand in his own. “Come on,” he hummed. His grip on your hand was firm as he walked up the steps leading to the wrap around porch and as he stuck the key inside of the lock and opened the front door, the smell of cedar surrounded you.

The cabin was gorgeous. Wooden slats covered every square inch of the small house and a small fireplace sat at the front of the house with a worn-in couch and chair facing it. It was obvious nobody had come to visit for quite some time judging by the dust lining most of the countertops and shelving units, but you didn’t care.

To you, it was perfect.

Your own little oasis with the boy you loved without any sort of outside interruption.

You released his hand to take a brief look around the small living space but you could feel his eyes on you with every step you took. You knew he was looking to get even with you after your little stunt in the car, but you also knew that he hadn’t quite been expecting the swell of emotions to hit him upon driving up to the cabin. So, you continued to wander around the cabin to both grant him the space he may or may not have needed and, simply, to snoop around.

There were family pictures lining the tables and one in particular made you smile as you caught sight of a young Billy swinging from a tire swing. With a quiet laugh, you picked the frame up and surveyed it with a fond smile on your lips. “Cute,” you remarked, looking across to catch his stare. “A little model, eh?”

Billy watched you carefully place the frame down on the table before continuing on with your self-guided tour. No matter how hard he tried, regardless of the bittersweet memories swirling around inside of his brain, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Not that he ever really could, but there was an ease rolling off of you tonight, coming off of you in waves, that drew him in.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week, you know that?” He remarked, leaning against the back of the couch as he watched you pick up another picture frame. “Just me and you. Out here alone in the woods for an entire weekend.”

“Sounds like a scary movie when you put it that way,” you goaded with a wink. “Or a really niche porno.”

“Why not a bit of both?” His molasses coloured eyes glimmered mischievously as you walked up to him and stepped between his legs. The second you were close, he pulled you flush against his chest and kissed the tip of your nose as he pushed your hair back and away from your face. “Both could be fun.”

You grinned. “I’m down for anything,” you shrugged. “So long as you promise to take me on an actual date tomorrow. We’re not just fucking like bunnies inside of the cabin all weekend.”

“Heaven forbid,” he leaned in and gave you a slow, torturous kiss.

“I’m serious, Billy,” you moaned.

Pulling away from your mouth, Billy nudged his nose against yours and nodded. “The entire population in Bumfuck, California will know you’re my girl by the end of the weekend,” he avowed, skimming his hands down to your ass to give it a firm squeeze. “I promise.”

“Oh, yeah?” You hummed, kissing him again.

His calloused hands slipped beneath your shirt and scraped up your side. “Yeah.” Digging his hips into yours, he gave you one last kiss before nodding towards the bedroom. “Take your clothes off.”

You giggled as he slapped your ass to steer you down the narrow hallway. “And if I don’t?”

“I’ll rip them off of you,” he simply said, “so either they remain in one piece or I ruin your outfit.”

You glanced down at your jeans and tank before frowning. You looked cute tonight and you’d be damned if the bastard ripped them. So, being the good girl you were, you held his stare and slowly slinked out of your clothes. His eyes seemed so much darker as he watched you strip and the small smirk he wore slowly fell into a hungry thin line as you then perched yourself on the edge of the bed, completely nude.

“You just going to stand there looking pretty or are you going to do something about this?” You slipped your fingers between your thighs and ran your fingers along your swollen clit. A low moan slipped out of your lips at the sensation. “I’m already so wet for you, Billy.”

Slowly, Billy stepped towards you and undid his belt. Leaning down, he kissed you, hard, and steered you backwards on the bed beneath you until your head reached the soft pillows. You could feel his cock straining against his jeans but rather than grant himself any sort of reprieve, you watched him gently grasp your hands and raise them above your head only to wrap his belt around your wrists.

In the blink of an eye, you were tied to the bedposts.

“Is this payback for the car blowie?” You laughed, looking up at your restrained wrists. “If it is, I can’t say I’m mad about it.”

“You wanted something between a horror movie and a niche porno, remember?” He hummed against your skin, placing sloppy kisses along the vein that ran along your neck as he pinched your nipple. “God, you’re fucking perfect. You know that?”

He bit down on your collarbone, kissing his way down your chest until his warm mouth wrapped around your nipple. You could feel his teeth slither along your breast as his tongue lapped expertly on the sensitive bud. You hissed, arching into his mouth as your wrists, on instinct, fought for freedom. “Hardly.”

His eyes met yours as he slowly released your nipple. You were in nothing, of course, but he was still fully clothed, and you hated him for it. You hungrily eyed the bulge in his jeans as he propped himself up on his arm, letting his other hand glide up your chest and neck until it cupped your cheek. His nose brushed against yours, nudging it up to allow his lips to hover just over yours. Close enough that you could almost taste them, but much too far away to satisfy the hunger you had for the man.

“I love you,” he whispered, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek as his warm, brown eyes swallowed you up. “You know that, right?”

“Yes,” you swallowed hard and tilted your head up just enough to finally catch his lips. But, just as quickly as it happened, the man pulled away and let his hand begin to roam down your body. His mouth was at your ear now, nibbling at your earlobe as his hot breath slithered against your neck. You shivered. “I love you, too.”

His voice was gruff in your ear. “I’d kill for you,” his hand continued its journey down your throat, brushing past your nipple, down the length of your stomach until reaching the small smattering of hair along your mound. He was careful to keep his hands from dipping any lower, tormenting you as best to his ability, which just about killed you, if you were being honest. “You know that?”

Bucking your hips up, you nearly growled at the lack of attention you were receiving. You were soaked and touch-starved for him. His fingers, his mouth, the erection currently poking into your thigh, anything. “I wouldn’t ask you to do that,” you managed a quiet laugh. “But I appreciate it.”

His teeth bit down on your neck again. “But, I would. I’d do anything for you, sweetheart.”

His hand slipped further down to your sopping cunt and as he slowly slipped his fingers through your wet folds, the moan he got in return nearly killed him. “Billy,” you whispered desperately. It felt as though you were going to die if you didn’t feel him inside of you. “Please.”

His lips hovered over yours and on instinct, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and bucked your hips against his hand. He snarled as you bit down on his lip but as the metallic taste of blood met his tongue, it was as though Billy was transcending. His pace on your clit quickened but it was still too slow for you and he knew it. He was torturing you, killing you, and he was enjoying every second of it. Struggling against the belt, your struggle was all for naught as it didn’t so much as move an inch.

“You’d love me, no matter what, right?” He asked, slipping one of his fingers inside of you as he kissed his way down to your chest. Lapping at your nipple, Billy was gentle at first before biting down hard enough to draw blood. Tit for Tat.

“Yes,” you moaned. Your entire body was on fire as his fingers brought you closer to the edge. “But I’d love you even more if you fucked me. You’re killing me, Loomis.”

Licking up the small trail of blood off of your tits, Billy hummed against your nipple and added another finger inside of your pussy. He’d fuck you soon but right now, he needed to feel your entire body light up the way it always had when he drove you into that fit of madness. You were a woman unhinged in the bedroom, he knew as much, and he knew exactly how to get that animal inside of you out.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he admired, reaching his hand up to coat your tit in your own slick. When it was sufficiently wet, he licked your juices off of your breast and growled. God, you tasted so fucking good. “You’re my girl, Y/N, you’re always going to be my girl, right?”

You looked up at him as those words fell from his lips. His brown hair hung down his forehead, his neck red from the strain of having to watch you writhe beneath him without doing a damned thing about it. But what struck you was the look of vulnerability in those brown eyes. That longing, far-away look as his eyes searched yours.

He wanted nothing more than to hear you say that you wanted him. Needed him. Just as much as he needed you.

“Always,” the answer tumbled out of your lips before you so much as thought twice. “I’m your girl, Billy.”

His mouth caught yours in a bruising kiss. Finally, his pace quickened inside of you as met your throbbing core with his dept fingers. With his thumb circling your clit, he dipped two fingers inside of you and grinned against your mouth as you let out a low, desperate moan.

It happened so fast after that. One moment, you were the one tied up on the bed and the next, he’d released you, stripped himself naked, and managed to flip you over so that you were the one on top of him, straddling his waist. Pulling away from you mouth, Billy’s eyes darkened as he saw that familiar glimmer in your eyes. That animalistic side of you was out in full force now.

“Get up here.” He demanded.

You smirked and leaned across him so that your lips hovered over his. “Why would I want to do that?”

He leaned up, the veins in his neck swelled against his neck as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth. “Get. Up. Here.”

Releasing your lip, Billy watched you smirk and crawl up the remainder of his body until your pussy was less than an inch away from his mouth. Grabbing onto the metal of the headboard you’d just been tied up to, you gasped as Billy’s tongue slid into your folds. Finding your clit instantly, you moaned and allowed your eyes to fall shut as you reached down to play with your hardened nipples.

Fuck, what Billy could do with his mouth should have been illegal.

He sucked and lapped at your clit as you rocked back and forth against his mouth. His fingers dug into your hips, so much so that you knew there would be bruises in the morning but, blinded by the pleasure between your thighs, you couldn’t care less.

The moans that were coming out of you were raw and guttural and, as you played with your own tits, envisioning his hands being the ones to squeeze and nip on the swollen buds of your nipples, you saw stars.

“Fuck,” you moaned out, “Billy, baby, fuck.”

He pulled your hips further down so that you were sitting on his face. Not just hovering but sitting on that perfect mouth of his as he held you in place. You knew it must have been hard for him to breathe but he was adamant and as his tongue continued its assault on your throbbing cunt, you came devastatingly hard and incredibly loud.

Stars danced behind your eyes as you continued to ride out your orgasm. When you couldn’t take another second of Billy’s skilled tongue, you climbed off of him only to feel his large hands take hold of your hips again.

Swinging you around so that you were on your back and he was the one hovering over you, Billy wasted no time in slipping his rock-hard erection into your soaking pussy.

He was thrusting hard and the sounds of your juices squelching with every thrust of his cock would have been off-putting if it hadn’t been for the raw, primal need coursing off of the pair of you in waves. He was kissing your lips and biting them and suckling your neck as he continued to rail into you with all of passion in the world. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him this riled up and you had to admit it was inherently sexy seeing him so affected by you.

Not surprising in the least, it didn’t take him long to come. You’d riled him up to the point of no return in the car and, as you felt him come inside of you, you all but laughed when he dramatically crashed on the bed beside you.

Sweat glistened over every inch of body and the sheen of your juices was still on his lips as he kissed you. This kiss was slow, methodical. Sweet. And you felt yourself fall even harder for the man as he broke the kiss and gently brushed your hair away from your now damp forehead.

Wrapping one arm around your chest, Billy held you against him as he propped himself against the headboard. You were both naked and sweating and while a shower was something you both definitely needed, neither of you found yourselves all too willing to move out of the other’s embrace.

“Is it hard being back here?” You asked, listening to his heart beating in his chest.

“For a second, maybe,” he admitted, soothing your hair down. “Not now.”

“What’s changed?” You asked with a small smile. “The sex was that good, huh?”

A quiet chuckle shook his chest as he kissed the top of your head. “I think horror meets niche porn is my new favourite genre.”

Kissing his naked chest, you grinned into his body. “Same.”

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splendentgoddess · 2 years

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then (optionally!) pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ♥️

Okay! Finally had a minute to sit down and work on answering this! Thanks for the ask @neutronstarchild !! (here's hoping the tag works after I push post, since half the time it doesn't)

I have also just recently received a second one of this ask from an anon, so I hope you see this too nonny!!! And thanks for thinking of me!

Now then, my favorite five fics. Considering I have written 108 fanfics that's no small ask, LOL. But I definitely do have some favorites.

I think the #1 spot has to go to Mating Season because I mean come on. What was just supposed to be a fun five-chapter hentai turned into a 100-chapter epic that took me around two years to write at a pace of posting one chapter a week. Yeah, that fucker ate my life for two years, but it was worth it. I am never, ever, writing a fic live ever again, LOL, so that one will go down in history as the one and only time I was foolish enough to get carried away with the vibes. Pantsing at its finest.

Can I cheat? I'm going to cheat and for the #2 spot I'm actually going to pick all of my Hallow trilogy, because how can I only pick the first story in what expanded into such a wonderful universe? But All Hallows' Eve was the first Halloween fic I ever wrote, and that universe will always have a soft spot in my heart. It has it all. Halloween parties and haunted houses, Inu/Kag love confessions and smexy times, canon divergence 'second jewel shard hunt after Naraku is dead' which was a popular thing to write at the time, youkai in the modern era and Kagome's school friends seeing her be a badass, and pregnancy and a baby! It's a great universe.

In that same vein, I really should pick the entire Secret Santa universe but I'll be good and for #3 I'll just say the original Secret Santa fic instead. I love the whole universe of course (also psssst I'm writing a fourth installment!!!) but the first one is definitely extra special because it contains that whole misunderstanding trope, coworkers where she likes him but he thinks she hates him and much unnecessary heartache ensues. Also, I absolutely love the type of universe where youkai are still around and are basically still youkai just like in canon, and I go back and forth on whether or not hanyou have human rights in this sort of world but I'd like to believe they would, and so in this universe they do and Inuyasha can live in peace among humans. I also love that I made Kagome a pretty fucking powerful miko, with an empathic ability I've not given her in other fics. In Love is Blind she can sense emotions but in the Secret Santa universe she can straight up read a person's soul.

It's really hard to pick just one fic amongst all my canon divergence and canon compliant inserted-scene fics to choose the #4 favorite but I think that honor has got to go to An unexpected request. Canon compliant, it tucks in neatly between manga chapters 519 and 520. This one has always been a little extra special to me. The summary says it all: Faced with the realization of just how dangerous, how potentially deadly their situation is about to become, Kagome approaches Inuyasha with an unexpected request. Will he comply? Maybe once he gets over his shock. After all, who wants to die a virgin?

*whistles innocently*

I think for the #5 spot I'm going to have to pick After The End: New Beginnings which is my one true post-canon universe. (*cough* YnH doesn't count *cough*) Okay we'll call it my post-manga universe, because it follows the manga canon, anyway. This story takes us through Kagome's return after the three-year separation, and the whole thing is really a final chapter insert because the closing lines in the story are the closing lines of the final manga chapter, with a happily married Inu/Kag standing together on that hill overlooking the countryside and Kagome's thoughts going Inuyasha and I...are bound to tomorrow. And while it's only this one story so far, I have many, MANY plans for many, MANY sequels. I've legit been going through my old ass files for old ass story ideas and seeing what I can chop shop to make work in the ATE universe instead, and I've plotted more than I've ever plotted before because I have multiple sequels outlined in order with key points that need to happen in certain stories as hints for other things in later stories. I'm also paused in the middle of a reread/edit on that one because I switched gears to start working on the 4th Secret Santa fic (which will be called No More Secrets) but after I get that one finished and posted, a freshly edited After The End will be the next fic going up on AO3. I really want to give that universe the majority of my attention.

#inuyasha fanfic #fanfic asks #inu/kag #inuyasha #self promo #self rec #splendentgoddess

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nerdzzone · 3 years

Text

Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

One of the challenges of sharing custody is sharing holidays which is something that Whitney Taylor found herself struggling with in the December of 2019. The prospect of spending Christmas without her son was dismaying, but the complications that come with the alternative might be even harder to face.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part One

----

Part Two

25.12.19

When I woke up in the morning, it took me a moment to figure out where I was and why the pillow my head was resting on was so hard and warm. Once I'd figured it out - that my head was not actually on a pillow, but on Chris' chest - I almost had to roll my eyes. Of course it was. Of course we'd ended up all cuddled together. Because life was just one big romantic comedy, right?

I sighed quietly, silently praying that Chris wasn't awake yet as I slowly slid myself away from him. He didn't stir until I was sitting on the edge of the bed so I was hopeful that he hadn't been aware of the position we were in.

"G'morning," he greeted me, rubbing his eyes as the sound of excited children echoed down the hallway. "What time is it?"

I quickly checked my phone on the nightstand before answering.

"Only seven o'clock," I told him before yawning. "But it sounds like everyone is up and bouncing off the walls already."

"I'm not surprised," Chris smiled. "They've probably torn into all the presents by now."

I laughed and nodded my head, knowing it was a good possibility.

"It probably wasn't super smart to leave Scott out there guarding them by himself," I pointed out. "Not after he spent half the night shaking his own presents trying to guess what was inside."

"Oh, it definitely wasn't," Chris agreed. "He was always the one who ruined things by finding his presents early and getting us all in trouble."

"Well, I should go see what they're up to or if anything can be salvaged," I smiled as I pulled a sweater on over my pyjamas. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be out in a minute," he assured me. I headed to the door, but stopped when I heard his voice again. "Hey, Whitney? Merry Christmas."

I smiled even wider as that happy, familiar Christmas morning feeling washed over me.

"Merry Christmas, Chris."

With that, I hurried out the door, trying not to focus too much on how content I felt and how right it seemed to wake up in his arms on Christmas morning.

When I got to the kitchen, I was surprised to see that everyone else was already awake, despite how early it was.

"Good morning," Lisa greeted me as I wandered into the kitchen where all the adults were congregating. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, everyone," I smiled before they all repeated it back to me. "Did I miss all the fun?"

"No, of course not," Carly assured me. "We've managed to keep them away from the presents so far, but I'm not sure how much longer we can hold them off."

"We're still waiting for Chris though," Scott pointed out as I grabbed a clean mug and headed to the fresh pot of coffee on the counter. "Have you seen him? He disappeared not long after we went to bed and never came back."

"Oh, yeah, he's in his room," I answered mindlessly as I filled my mug. "We ended up sleeping together last night."

I heard Scott almost choke on his coffee and noticed the sudden silence in the room, but it wasn't until Lisa spoke that I realized what I'd said.

"Whitney, honey," she said, speaking softly. "What do you mean?"

"Oh my god, no! Not like that!" I rushed to explain as my cheeks grew hot. "We literally slept together, like as in slept next to each other. Chris came into his room looking for a sweater because he was cold and had given away all his spare blankets so I offered for him to share the bed with me. That's all, I swear."

There were knowing smiles amongst the group and I wasn't entirely sure that they all believed me which made things even more embarrassing as I wouldn't want them to think I'd talk so candidly about things like that with Chris' mother of all people. Before I had a chance to continue desperately defending myself though, a voice from the doorway interrupted.

"What are you swearing about?" He asked, leaning against the doorway. "Why do I feel like I missed something good?"

Again, I was ready to explain, but someone beat me to it.

"Whitney was just giving us the update," Scott informed his older brother as he matched his smirk. "She was telling us how you two slept together."

Chris' eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a moment before he relaxed and let out a chuckle.

"Well, that's not exactly how I would have phrased it," he informed the group with a shrug. "But I suppose it is accurate. We slept and we were together."

"I just misspoke," I groaned. "I haven't had any coffee yet, I wasn't thinking clearly."

"A little Freudian slip?" Carly suggested as she joined in on the teasing, but I simply rolled my eyes.

"Chris probably wishes that was a peak into my subconscious desires, but I'm afraid not. Just a clear sign that I am not a morning person."

"I think we'll all need plenty of coffee to deal with the energy in that living room," Lisa interjected, putting an end to the discussion despite Chris' protests of my claim. "But we should probably go and join them before they open all the presents, whether they belong to them or not."

We all murmured in agreement and everyone topped up whatever beverage they were drinking before we headed to the living room to start the Christmas fun.

"Mama!" Grayson shouted as we entered the room. "Look! Santa came!"

"Of course he did," I smiled at the children. "You've all been good this year so it's no surprise."

They all nodded and agreed enthusiastically except Ethan who, now that he was almost ten, had figured out the truth. He was a good kid though and a loving older brother so he kept the secret, quietly watching them with a knowing smile now that he was finally in on the joke with the adults.

"Can we open them?" Stella asked, bouncing up and down from holding in her excitement. "We've been waiting for so long!"

"I wouldn't say so long," Scott chuckled. "Since it's not even eight o'clock in the morning yet!"

"But, yes, you can open them," Carly informed her children. "Just be careful and don't rush."

There was a flurry of activity as the kids dove into the presents, organizing whose was whose before settling down next to their little piles. I took a step back and sat on the couch next to Lisa, letting Chris sit on the floor behind Grayson. It was his Christmas after all and it felt right that he should be the one helping him open presents. Plus, this way I got a perfect view of the joyful grin that was plastered on his face. A grin that was perfectly replicated by his father behind him making my heart clench at the sight of them together like this.

I watched from my spot on the couch as the gifts were opened one by one and soaked in every giggle and shriek of glee from the children. Grayson was on top of the world and so grateful for each and every gift, it was delightful to see. Given our financial security, especially for Chris, it would have been easy to spoil him, but it made me incredibly proud to see how gracious he was.

However, one of the last gifts he wasn't so grateful to receive. It was from me and I knew there was a chance it wouldn't be his favourite, but his response was far worse than I could have imagined.

It was a decent sized box and he tore off the wrapping paper eagerly, intrigued by what could be inside. When he revealed that it was a foot and a half tall electronic T-Rex, his first reaction was one of amazement.

"Wow! A dinosaur!"

"Yeah," I smiled. "Take him out and see what he can do."

Chris set to work helping Grayson open the box before glancing up at me.

"Does he need batteries?"

"I put some in already," I assured him. "I knew he'd want to see it right away so I thought it would be easier."

He nodded as Grayson placed the giant T-Rex on the floor and looked at me expectantly.

"There's a button on his back, press it."

Everyone watched as he poked around until he got the right spot and the dinosaur came to life. He roared and his head moved around, but as the older kids cheered and clapped, Grayson burst into tears.

"Oh, dear..." Lisa smiled as she watched her grandson leap into his father's arms.

Everyone was chuckling at his dramatic reaction as Grayson buried his face in Chris' neck.

"Awe, buddy, I'm sorry!" I apologized. "Did it scare you?"

"Yes! He's scary!" Grayson's response was muffled by Chris' body and hard to understand through his sobs. "I don't wike it, Mama!"

I smiled at the little speech impediment that he inherited from his father - much like the one his cousin, Miles, had - but I did feel bad for how genuinely afraid he was.

"I'm sorry, baby. We can take the batteries out, okay? Then he won't be able to move."

The dinosaur had stopped moving on his own before I spoke and Grayson moved his head from where he was hiding his face, nodding as he did so.

"Yes, please."

"I bought it a while ago, thinking it was the perfect gift and then last week, he suddenly decided that T-Rexes were mean and I thought it might not go down so well," I admitted to the adults as I stretched forward to pick up the dinosaur and take the batteries out. "It's such a shame though, I think he's adorable. If you press the button on his tail, a little song plays and he does a little wiggle dance."

Chris smirked at me as he rubbed our still sniffling son's back.

"Why don't you take him home? Sounds like you might enjoy playing with him when Grayson isn't around."

He was making fun of me, I knew he was, but I didn't take the bait.

"You know what? I might just do that."

Chris opened his mouth to most likely make another teasing comment, but Ethan interrupted him.

"If Grayson doesn't want the T-Rex, can I have it?"

"I think you got enough new toys this morning," Ethan's dad warned him. "Don't be greedy."

"We'll let Grayson keep him for now," Chris agreed. "He might get used to him after a while if he plays with him without the batteries."

I passed the toy in question back to Chris and Grayson cowered away, whimpering against his dad's chest.

"Just leave it for now," I suggested. "We can try it again later when the initial shock has worn off."

Chris nodded and put the dinosaur behind his back and out of sight.

The rest of the gift opening went by smoothly and no more children were traumatized. Once every gift that was under the tree had been opened, we left the kids to test out their new things while the adults headed to the kitchen to start making breakfast. It was quickly decided that pancakes would be the easiest thing to mass produce for our large group of hungry people and while Lisa, Carly and I started mixing up a few bowls of batter, Chris and Scott whipped out the orange juice and champagne for mimosas.

An hour later everyone was very full and we were two bottles of champagne down.

"So, Whitney," Scott started as he loaded up the dishwasher. "Are you staying here tonight too or are you planning on making us spend half the day shovelling the driveway for you?"

His tone was teasing, but as I looked out the window at the deep blanket of snow that covered the ground outside, I was torn. I didn't want to outstay my welcome by staying another night, but I also didn't want to make the Evans family spend their entire Christmas day shovelling snow and there was no way that I'd be able to do it by myself.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I wasn't planning on staying another night, but it does look like there's a lot of snow out there..."

"Just stay," Chris shrugged. "Even if we can get your car down the driveway, the roads are probably terrible."

"There's no need for you to rush off," Lisa agreed. "Stay another night and then you can just relax and enjoy the day."

"And you can drink if you're not driving home," Scott pointed out with a grin. "Chris and I stocked up on wine, beer, whiskey and gin, these mimosas were just the start of the party."

I couldn't help, but laugh at Scott's reasoning as I nodded my head.

"Alright, I'll stay. If you really don't mind, Chris?"

"Of course not," Chris assured me. "We're happy to have you."

"Great!" Scott grinned. "I'm glad that's settled, I think this calls for another round of drinks!"

Chris cheered and jumped up to help him while the rest of us smiled and shook our heads at their antics.

The day was spent soaking in quality family time, watching the kids enjoy their new toys and indulging in lots of food and drink. We called Chris' dad and my parents and even had an unexpected phone call from my Uncle Rob. He spent more time talking to Chris than me, his own niece, but it was nice to hear his voice even if he made sure to get a dig in about me confessing my supposedly obvious feelings to Chris.

Sitting around the table, eating a delicious meal with Chris' loving and welcoming family was quite a contrast to how I expected to spend the day and I was very grateful that Chris had included me. Grayson seemed to appreciate it too and he made his enjoyment clear as we tucked him into bed once all the fun and feasting was done.

Chris sat on the floor leaning against Grayson's nightstand, reading him his favourite bedtime story while I laid on the bed next to him and rubbed his back. He was drifting off by the time the story was finished, but he was fighting it desperately as he spoke again.

"I'm happy, Mama," he told us, his words muffled as he nuzzled into his pillow.

Chris put his hand over his heart as he mouthed an 'awe' at me and I smiled.

"You're happy?" I clarified quietly, my smile growing as he nodded. "I'm glad to hear that, baby."

"I like that you're here," he mumbled. "Daddy should come home with us too."

My heart clenched at that request as my smile faltered. I knew it was only a matter of time until Grayson paid more attention to the fact that his time was divided between two homes, but I wasn't ready to deal with it just yet.

"Maybe Daddy could come for a sleepover sometime," I suggested, stroking his hair back out of his face, but that wasn't all he wanted.

"He should come all the time."

I was never great at hiding my emotions and from the way Chris was watching me, I assumed my distress at Grayson's comments was written all over my face and I was grateful when he jumped into the conversation.

"But what about Dodger?"

Dodger's ears perked up from his spot at the end of the bed, but he settled again when he realized that Chris wasn't calling for him.

"He can come too," was Grayson's answer to that dilemma, but Chris had a response at the ready.

"C'mon, you think Dodger would have enough space in your Ma's apartment?" He asked. "He needs a big house like this to run around in!"

So then we could all just stay here would be the logical comeback to that, but it seemed our sleepy little guy was too tuckered out from the excitement to argue. He let out a little sigh of defeat, but said no more. We stayed quiet for a few minutes until his breathing shifted and he was soundly asleep.

Chris offered me his hand to help me climb over Grayson without waking him up and, after whispering a quiet request to Dodger to keep our boy safe, he led me out of the room.

"You okay?"

The question came as soon as Grayson's door was pulled to and we were in the hallway.

"Yeah, of course," I nodded, forcing a smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Chris shot me a look that clearly showed his disbelief.

"You looked pretty downhearted in there."

"I just worry," I shrugged. "I don't want our situation to upset him and I know he's going to notice it more as he gets older."

"He'll be fine," Chris assured me, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder comfortingly. "He's got so much love in his life, he won't even notice that his family is a little different."

I wasn't convinced. He was obviously already noticing or he wouldn't have questioned it only moments before. I didn't want to start such a delicate, potentially tense conversation at the end of such a happy day though so I forced a more convincing smile onto my face.

"You're right," I agreed. "But I wouldn't be a mom if I didn't worry."

"Well, there's no time for worryin' on Christmas!" Chris claimed, followed by a grin as he dragged me off towards the kitchen. "What can I get you? Another wine? Maybe some gin? I might have some tequila kickin' around here somewhere..."

"No! No tequila!" I laughed. "Gin would be great, thanks."

Chris nodded and set to work mixing our beverages for the evening before we went to the living room to rejoin his family and I did my best to push any worries about letting Grayson down out of my mind.

After the kids were all in bed, the rest of the evening was spent playing games and sharing drinks. It was heartwarming, wholesome family fun and I was so glad that Scott had encouraged me to stay as the thought of rushing home to my cold, empty apartment wasn't at all appealing.

The only strange thing about the evening was Chris. We were teamed up for most of the games and it was quite amazing how in tune with each other we were as we won everything by a landslide. We'd been friends for a long time and knew each other very well so it was unsurprising to me that we had so much success, but the teasing comments that came from a rather drunk Scott implied other reasons than friendship for our harmony. I scoffed and rolled my eyes every time he cracked a joke about us, but Chris seemed to love it. He was a few drinks in and probably just feeling a little goofy, but the grin on his face after every suggestive comment sparked an odd feeling in my stomach.

It was around ten o'clock when everyone except Chris, Scott and I decided to go to bed. We bid them goodnight and Chris went to top up our drinks before settling back onto the couch beside me. By this time, I was definitely feeling it. I wasn't drunk, but I knew this drink would have to be my last as the flush of my cheeks and the happy, fuzzy feeling in my brain was telling me that it was time to wind it down for the night.

However, as Chris handed me another gin and soda, settled on the couch next to me, placed his drink on the end table beside him and pulled my feet into his lap, my mind suddenly felt surprisingly sharp.

"What are you doing?" I asked, a giggle slipping from my lips.

"Releasing some tension."

As he answered, he began a slow massage of my left foot and I couldn't help, but smile at how wonderful it felt.

"Releasing?" Scott snorted a laugh. "Sure, a foot rub is known for getting rid of tension, not making it worse."

Chris smirked at what Scott was insinuating, but seemed unbothered by it.

"Don't be jealous," he teased, but now it was my turn to smirk.

"Of what?" I questioned. "This foot rub? It's not that great, Scott."

Scott laughed as Chris gasped a tad over dramatically.

"Not that great? I offer you a free foot rub and you can't even be fuckin' grateful?"

Chris shook his head, but the smile on his face told me that he wasn't really offended. He did stop massaging my feet though and I whined in protest as he picked up his drink.

"A mediocre foot rub is better than nothing," I pouted. "Keep going."

Chris sipped his whiskey, the smile on his face morphing back into a smirk as he shook his head again, but he did let his hand rest over my ankles and I was happy for even that tiny bit of contact.

Scott changed the subject to some viral video he saw the other day and Chris laughed and chatted along as he absentmindedly let his hand drift up my shin, underneath the loose pyjama pants that I'd changed into shortly after we put Grayson to bed.

My mind was instantly taken back to another time when we'd shared such gentle touches. A time when his lips followed his fingers as they traced kisses up from my ankle all the way to the lacy edge of my underwear. A time when he'd then proceeded to pull that underwear off with his teeth before returning his face back to a very sensitive area.

"Whitney, have you seen it?"

Scott's question snapped me out of my racy daydream. I felt my cheeks flush with colour as I forced my gaze away from Chris' hand over to Scott, reminding myself that even though the look on Chris' face would make it seem otherwise, he couldn't possibly know what I was just thinking of.

"Uh, no, I haven't," I admitted, sipping my drink to try to cool myself down even though it was becoming apparent to me that I needed to slow down my alcohol consumption. "All I seem to watch these days is Paw Patrol."

Chris barked out a laugh and nodded.

"So much Paw Patrol," he agreed. "The kid's obsessed."

"Chase is on the case!" I giggled before changing my voice slightly. "Rubble on the double!"

"Oh my god," Scott laughed, a horrified look on his face. "We need to get you out more."

I shrugged as Chris continued to trace patterns on my shins.

"That's the life of a mom."

"Yeah, but what about when he's with Chris? You must have some sort of life then."

"Scott."

Chris' voice was harsh and warning as what Scott was implying could be taken as offensive, but I wasn't bothered.

"It's fine," I assured him. "I know I'm lame. I don't have much of my own life, I don't really know anyone around here."

"You have Allison," Chris pointed out. "You've mentioned her a lot. She's your friend, right?"

He was referring to my one and only friend in Massachusetts. She was also a photographer and we'd met at a camera store when I first moved here. She'd asked me a question about a new brand of film and we'd ended up having coffee to exchange tips. She realized quickly that I didn't know many people in town and had taken me under her wing.

"She is," I nodded. "But she has three kids of her own and she's married so she doesn't have weeks where she's child free like I do. We hang out when we can, but usually it's with all the kids, not like quality 'girl time'."

"I didn't know that," Chris frowned. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't feel bad for me." I nudged him with my foot. "I have plenty of friends, they're just in LA. I'm happy here."

"I'll take you out for drinks one day," Scott promised. "Even if you're happy, everyone needs to let their hair down a little bit sometimes."

"That would be fun," I smiled, tossing back the last of my drink. "But for now, I think I've let my hair down enough for today. It's time for me to get to bed before all these drinks go to my head."

I slid my feet off of Chris' lap and slowly stood up as he looked up at me.

"Are you cool if I bunk with you again tonight?"

"Of course," I nodded. "Just sneak in quietly if you two stay up too late."

"I'm ready to crash already," Scott informed us. "So, we won't be up much later."

"Okay. Well, goodnight boys," I waved as I headed towards the door. "Thank you for a lovely day."

They chorused a goodnight back to me before I walked down the hall.

I was just coming out of the en suite in Chris' bedroom after brushing my teeth when Chris strolled into the room.

"Hey," I smiled. "Ready for bed already?"

"Scott wasn't lying," he returned my smile. "He was half asleep by the time you made it down the hall."

I laughed as I crawled into bed and settled against the pillows.

"Well, it has been a busy day."

Chris agreed as he grabbed his pyjama pants and headed to the bathroom. I picked up my phone from where I left it on the nightstand, turned off the lamp on my side of the bed and answered a few text messages from my family, figuring I may as well wait the few minutes it would take Chris to get ready for bed before I attempted to get any sleep. When Chris reappeared, I locked my phone again, put it back on the nightstand and snuggled down under the blankets, trying not to stare too much at his chiselled torso. He wasted no time turning off the lamp on his side as well before slipping in next to me, shivering dramatically as he pulled the blankets up over his chest.

"It's so freakin' cold tonight."

I snorted a laugh, shaking my head even though I knew he wouldn't be able to see me until our eyes adjusted to the dark.

"Maybe if you put on a shirt you wouldn't feel it so much."

"Honestly," Chris started, the smirk evident in his tone despite his face still being hidden in shadow. "Usually, I just sleep naked so these pants are for your benefit."

I felt my cheeks flush as the words 'then by all means, take them off' were on the tip of my tongue. I forced them out of my mind as a long forgotten tingle rolled through my body and I focused on answering him.

"My point was that a t-shirt would provide you with extra warmth," I explained. "So, your point that you usually wear less clothing makes no sense."

The bed shifted slightly as Chris chuckled.

"Well, I can think of another thing that could provide some extra warmth."

"What?"

I felt my heart rate pick up, the blood rushing through my ears so fast that I hardly heard myself answer him as I wondered if he could possibly be implying what it seemed like he was implying.

"You." His voice was low, the same seductive tone he'd used all those years ago, and I felt my mouth go dry. "Come give me a cuddle."

For a moment, I thought I was a lot drunker than I'd realized and that I was hallucinating or in some kind of lucid dream, but that thought brought me to a different realization.

"Chris!" I whispered, my tone scolding and accusatory. "You're drunk!"

A burst of laughter came from the other side of the bed and I quickly shushed him, knowing Grayson was asleep in the room above us.

"I'm not drunk, I promise," Chris assured me as his raucous laughter came under control. "I just thought it was worth a shot. It's nice to have a little cuddle with a beautiful woman sometimes."

I felt another flush of heat run through me, but I rolled my eyes and, as I had the night before, I took a pillow and placed it between us, drawing a clear line in the sand even if that hadn't worked out so well the last time.

"Goodnight, Chris."

"Goodnight, Whitney."

I rolled over, closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

I did try. I really, really did.

But after almost ten minutes of thoughts whirring through my head, I knew it was hopeless and I turned back to face Chris. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the dark, I could see well enough to know that he was laying on his back so I carefully moved the pillow that I'd placed between us and slowly slid over towards him. I felt him tense so I knew he was awake, but he didn't question what I was doing so I continued until my head was on his chest and my arm was draped over his stomach. He stayed perfectly still, just long enough for me to start second guessing myself before he shifted slightly to put his arm around me.

We stayed like that, holding each other in silence, and I had to admit that Chris was right. It was nice to have someone to cuddle with. The physical contact was filling a hole in my touch-starved heart and I tried not to think about how fleeting of a moment it was or how things would be back to normal in the light of day. There was a strange ache in my heart at that thought and I knew I needed to get out of my head.

"Chris?" My voice was soft, just in case he'd drifted off in the last few minutes, but when he tightened his grip on me, I knew he was still awake. "Thank you for inviting me today."

"Of course." He squeezed a little tighter. "I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner."

"It's fine," I assured him, letting my hand lazily trace patterns on his skin. "You're under no obligation, you're allowed your time with Grayson without me."

"It's not about obligation. I'd never want you to spend Christmas alone even if Grayson wasn't in the picture."

"I was really dreading it."

My admission made me feel vulnerable as I'd spent so long trying to pretend that I wasn't bothered by the idea of a lonely holiday, but Chris didn't seem surprised.

"Really?" He questioned, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "The crying onto your steering wheel didn't give that away at all."

"Shut up," I mumbled, turning my face into his chest to hide my smile at his teasing. "I'm just trying to express my gratitude for your kindness."

"No gratitude is needed. It's been my pleasure having you here today and Grayson loved it."

He kissed the top of my head after he'd finished speaking and almost reflexively, I found myself stretching up and placing a soft kiss of my own against his collarbone. It felt intimate and the moment hung heavy between us. It felt right to me, but I knew instantly that I'd crossed a line. A comforting kiss on the top of my head was one thing, but what I'd done, kissing his bare chest, was inappropriate. My cheeks burned as I tilted my head up to look at him, meeting his eyes as they looked down at me. His expression was unreadable so I opened my mouth to apologize only to be completely shocked when he pressed his head forward and his lips against mine.

The shock quickly morphed into a feeling that could only be described as euphoria. There was something distantly familiar about the way his mouth moved on mine, but it felt strange and new as it wasn't exactly as I'd remembered - and I had spent more time than I'd want to admit reliving the last time we'd shared a kiss like this.

It wasn't until he pressed his tongue against my lips, in an attempt to deepen the kiss, that I snapped out of my daze.

"Chris, wait," I breathed out as I pulled away and stared up at him, my cheeks now flushed much more from excitement than embarrassment. "We shouldn't do this."

"Says who?"

The little voice in my head telling me that I'm about to ruin everything that we've worked hard to create. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but as he smirked down at me and licked his lips as if he was preparing for what was to come, I found myself incapable of logic and reason.

"Doesn't matter."

Chris hardly had time to acknowledge my answer before I dove back in for another kiss, moving to a more comfortable position as I straddled his waist.

He completely overwhelmed my senses. The inescapable scent of him surrounding me, the feel of his strong body between my thighs and the soft little sighs of enjoyment that he kept making every time our lips parted for us to take a breath. None of it was doing anything to ease the ache that was growing between my legs and my hands gripped into the sheets where they rested just above his shoulders as I pulled back to look down at him. I needed to see his face to remind myself this was really happening and who it was really happening with as it still felt so unreal.

Chris smiled up at me, his lips looking plumper already, and let his hands settle on my hips to keep me steady.

"You okay?"

I nodded and leaned down to peck his lips again before answering.

"I've never been better."

Chris' smile only widened at that confirmation and he moved his hands down to cup my bum, pressing my hips forward and giving me a moment of friction that I'd been desperately craving. I pressed myself up, pulling my upper body away from him as a gasp fell from my lips and my eyes squeezed shut. I was embarrassingly aroused from a few mere minutes of kisses, but it had been a very long time since I'd had any physical contact with a man and my body was already on fire.

I rocked my hips against the toned muscles of his abdomen, soaking in the pleasure that was radiating through me and I was debating whether it would be rude of me to continue until I reached the release that was quickly building inside me. Clearly, Chris was just as intuitive as I remembered as he let out a groan and effortlessly flipped us over so he was on top.

"Not like that," he smirked. "I've been thinking about this for too long, it's not happening like that."

I felt another flush of embarrassment as he could obviously tell what I'd been thinking about doing, but I nodded in agreement.

"But if this is really happening, we need to be quiet," I reminded him. "Everyone's sleeping."

"They're all upstairs, they won't hear," he assured me. "And Scott's on the other side of the house."

He was right, we'd be fine as long as we kept ourselves under control, but it didn't matter anyway as all my doubts disappeared when his lips pressed against my neck. I let my hands slide around his waist, resting on his toned back while his lips continued their trail down my neck and stretched the neck line of my shirt to expose my shoulder. His lips locked onto one spot just above my collarbone, sucking and nipping until I was sure there would be a bruise there in the morning.

"Chris," I gasped out, digging my fingernails into his back. "Don't leave a mark."

He backed off a bit, kissing gently against the now sensitive skin.

"It'll be easy to hide," he assured me. "And if I remember correctly, you enjoyed a few bites here and there..."

He opened his mouth to dig his teeth into my shoulder and an image flashed into my mind. A memory of me, bent over with Chris' thumb on my clit as the two fingers he had inside me stroked a particularly delicate spot. He'd placed a soft kiss on the cheek of my bum before sinking his teeth into my skin, sending me over the edge.

I couldn't help, but moan from the combination of the memory and the sensation of his teeth in my shoulder as my hips pressed up against his. Chris seemed to be spurred on by that action as he ground his hips against mine and quickly let his hands slide down to the bottom of my shirt. He lifted it up and for a moment I was lost in the bliss of the sensations he was providing, but as my shirt was raised just past my belly button, I froze.

"Wait!"

My voice firm and demanding and he immediately responded, stopping his actions and looking up to meet my eyes.

"What's wrong?"

I bit my bottom lip as I pondered how to voice my concerns. If I didn't say anything, there was a chance that we could get through this without drawing any attention to it, but I couldn't help but think it was better to point it out than have Chris notice on his own.

"I just..." I breathed out, trying to figure out how to articulate my thoughts. "I just look different now."

"What?"

Chris pulled back even further, looking down at me with genuine confusion in his eyes and my cheeks burned as I tried to puzzle out how to explain my feelings in a way that didn't make me look shockingly insecure.

"Since I had Grayson, since the last time we did this," I clarified, my cheeks burning as I brought my flaws to his attention. "I look different. Like, I have stretch marks and my boobs aren't as perky as they used to be."

Even in the dark shadows of the room, I could see Chris' jaw clench as it did when he was annoyed and trying to bite his tongue. Panic flooded through me as I wished I'd kept my mouth shut, but his next words astounded me.

"Get outta here," he huffed. "You think I care about that?"

I dropped my gaze to the tattoos on his chest as I regretted ever opening my mouth.

"I don't know," I admitted. "Lots of men probably would."

Chris moved back, slowly sliding his body down, away from mine and I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop him and hold him against me as long as I could, but I was powerless to do anything, but watch. My heart sank, thinking he was going to roll off of me any minute now, but then he stopped. His face was level with my lower stomach and turned his eyes back towards my face.

"This body," he started, placing a kiss on my stomach. "This stomach, these stretch marks." He kissed the faint lines that were now barely visible on my skin despite how vibrant they were in my mind. Then he continued up, lifting my shirt as he went until it was resting above my breasts, my nipples hard from the chill in the air and the anticipation I was feeling. "These boobs." He kissed and nipped at the delicate skin, tracing all the way along until he captured a nipple in his mouth, teasing it briefly with his tongue. "They changed because you gave me my son, the greatest gift you could have given me. I have nothing, but gratitude for that and you're still the most fuckin' beautiful woman I've ever seen."

He was exaggerating. I knew he was exaggerating. He saw and worked with Hollywood's most elite actresses and models, there was no chance that I was even close to the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. But he managed, again, to push all doubts from my mind as his lips set to work, this time focusing on my left nipple while he shifted his weight and freed a hand to stroke and pinch the right.

They were sensitive, they always had been, and the way that Chris was working them right now was almost too much. My head fell back and my hands dropped to the sheets as I tried to focus on enjoying the sensations and not immediately demanding for Chris to move lower, to give me more, to touch me where I wanted to be touched with increasing need. He was always paying attention though and before I even needed to voice my request, he let his mouth slip from my nipple and trail back down my stomach.

He nipped at the skin just above my pyjama pants before hooking his fingers in the waistband and pulling them down. I tugged my shirt over my head at the same time before laying back against the pillow, completely naked underneath him.

"Beautiful."

He'd muttered the word, almost more to himself than to me, but the sincerity in his voice flooded a new kind of warmth through my body. I tried to push it down, focusing on what we were doing, what this was and all it could be. Because yes, I loved Chris, but this wasn't that. This wasn't making love, this was a simple release of sexual tension. I didn't need my feelings getting in the way and making this complicated or I was going to get myself hurt.

I'd been so lost in my head that I hadn't noticed how my legs had fallen apart for Chris to settle between them or how he'd spread me with his fingers, opening me up for him to enjoy. It wasn't until I felt a slow, gentle lick right over my clit that I snapped back into the moment. With a gasp, my hips pressed up to meet his mouth, trying frantically to keep the friction now that it was finally there.

"Easy," Chris warned me, chuckling as he pulled back slightly, earning a whine from me. "We'll get you there, don't worry."

A feeling of desperation was building up inside of me and as he blew gently on the very sensitive parts of me that were in front of him, I was about ready to start begging.

"Please," I whimpered, moving my hand to his hair in case he got any bright ideas about pulling back any further, but I was relieved when he let out a groan and finally gave up on his teasing.

Suddenly I was aware of nothing, but Chris' mouth on me. My back arched as he licked up from the bottom of my core to the top, swirling his tongue around, exploring every little nook and cranny before settling his focus back on my clit. It was like he'd studied me, like he'd committed our previous brief encounter to memory and remembered exactly what I responded to as he licked and sucked with just the right amount of pressure and speed to have me panting as my grip tightened in his hair.

It had only been moments, but I could already feel the pressure building inside me, bubbling closer towards the surface. Chris, as if sensing this, eased off just slightly to slide his tongue a bit lower, pressing it against my entrance, dipping just barely inside, before replacing it with one of his fingers. I felt myself clench at the sensation, my body desperate for relief, desperate for something more inside me and Chris obliged, adding a second finger almost immediately.

"So wet, baby," he hummed, placing a kiss on the inside of my upper thigh.

I was too wrapped up in my own pleasure to formulate any kind of response, but Chris didn't bother waiting for one anyway before putting his lips back on my clit. The combination of his fingers and his mouth had me seeing stars and another whimpered plea slipped from my lips as he flicked his tongue against me. He was focused and determined, groaning against me after a particularly sharp tug on his hair when he angled his fingers inside me to find that one particular spot that made me see stars.

He stroked it once. Then twice. And on the third that coil that had been tightening inside me snapped. I covered my mouth with my free hand just in time to bite down and muffle the scream that Chris pulled from me as my hips thrust up towards him and I spasmed around his fingers as I fell over the edge.

Chris coaxed me through it, easing his attentions as I came down from the high I was feeling. He slid his fingers out of me, looking up to meet my eyes before licking them clean. I groaned, feeling myself twitch with arousal at the sight despite my heart still racing from the orgasm I had just had. He flashed me a smirk before crawling up my body and pressing his lips against mine again.

I sighed happily into the kiss, letting my hands slide down his back, just teasing the top of his pants as I reluctantly separated our mouths.

"Take these off."

My tone left little room for argument and Chris looked down at me with a smirk.

"Yes, ma'am."

He lifted his body off of mine just long enough for me to shiver from the loss of the warmth he was providing, but he quickly returned once his pants were discarded. He stayed slightly lower when he returned, turning his attention back to my chest, taking my left nipple in his mouth this time and using his hand to tease the other. My eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, but I fought the urge to simply lie back and let him do what he wanted with me. I wanted more, I needed more and I didn't want to wait any longer.

"Chris," I whined. "Please, fuck me."

Looking down, I could see his eyes widen in surprise at my blunt demand. He let his mouth slip off my nipple before giving it one last little nip, just hard enough to make me gasp from the slight twinge of pain.

"As you wish."

He reached down between us, taking a moment to slip his two fingers back inside me. He spread them out, gently stretching me and I was grateful. From my memory, Chris was thick and it had been approximately three years and five months since I last had sex (not that I was counting).

Once Chris was satisfied that I was adequately prepared, he pulled his fingers back and guided the tip of his cock towards my entrance. I tried to relax as he slowly stretched me open, but even as my mind revelled in the bliss I was feeling, a thought hit me that made my eyes widen and body stiffen.

"Chris!" I gasped out, gripping his shoulders to push him away slightly. "Condom!"

His head dropped down and he grunted as if he was using the last of his restraint to pull out of me.

"Shit," he cursed. "How could we forget that again?"

"I guess we don't learn from our mistakes," I smiled, despite the pang in my heart as the voice in my head chimed in again to say 'clearly not or you wouldn't be about to fuck him and break your own heart again'. "Do you have one?"

Chris nodded, rolling off me for just long enough to reach over to the bedside table. He pulled one out of the drawer, ripped it open and slid it on with impressive speed before crawling back over me.

"Now," he smirked. "Where were we?"

He looked down as he guided himself inside me again. The initial stretch wasn't as intense the second time around, but it grew as he pushed deeper and my breath hitched once he was fully inside. Chris stilled, sensing my discomfort as he dropped his head to kiss along my jaw until his lips rested just below my ear.

"You good?"

"Mhmm," I nodded, breathing out and shifting my hips as I started to adjust. We stayed like that, connected but still, for a few moments until I felt the tension ease a bit. "You can move."

"You sure?" Chris looked at me with concern on his face, but I nodded.

That was all the reassurance he needed as he began slowly moving his hips. He pulled his lips back from where they rested near my ear and pressed them against mine.

He kissed me deeply, passionately, as he created a steady rhythm, sliding in and out with his hips pressing hard against mine with each thrust. His biceps bulged and strained to support his weight through the movement and he eventually let his mouth fall away from mine as he could no longer hold back a groan. That noise, and the grunts that followed, made me twitch around him as if my body was doing everything it could to keep him inside me, to keep the pleasure that it had been craving for so long.

I could feel him dragging against every inch inside me, brushing against every nerve and stretching me just enough to keep me constantly impressed by how big he was. It was somehow too much, but not enough all at the same time and I hitched my leg higher up on his waist to help him get closer, deeper, if at all possible.

"Good girl..."

Chris' words hummed encouragingly against my collarbone where he placed another soft kiss before pulling back. He placed his hand on the back of my knee and lifted it even higher, opening me up for him even more.

My head dropped back against the pillow on the next stroke as his cock slid against that delicious spot inside me where his fingers had been only minutes before. He was watching, looking down between us to see me wrapped around him, see me taking him all the way every time he pushed in. I could hear him mumbling praises, compliments about how well I was doing, but I was too far gone, too wrapped up in the pleasure emanating from between my legs to do anything, but moan in response.

He slowed for a moment, leaning down, my leg catching on his shoulder and pressing it even higher as he reminded me to be quiet. He nipped my ear lobe, pulling a whimper from my lips before moving back and picking his pace up again. I knew he was right, but it was hard, next to impossible even, to hold back the noises that were bubbling in my throat.

I bit my lip and dug my nails into his skin as I attempted to control my volume and silently cursed Chris when he shifted his weight just enough to put the pressure of each thrust back on just the right spot. He moved his thumb down to brush over my clit, but it barely took a few strokes for me to fly over the edge.

It felt like my whole world exploded as I clenched around him, a low moan slipping past the lip between my teeth. The tingle ripped through every part of my body, every muscle quivering with pleasure, as Chris picked up the pace even more, with one final burst of speed until he stilled, letting out a deep, rumbling groan of his own before pumping in and out a few final times.

Once he'd stopped his movements completely, he let my leg lower to the bed, collapsing against my chest as he fought to catch his breath. I drifted my hand up to stroke the damp hairs on the back of his neck and soaked in the blissful feeling, a feeling I'd dreamt about since the last time I had the pleasure of enjoying it.

We stayed like that for a few moments until Chris reluctantly pulled back, letting out a soft groan as he slid out of me.

"I'll be right back."

I admired Chris' ability to walk already as all I had the strength to do was nod and shift back to my side of the bed. When Chris reappeared a few minutes later after disposing of the condom in the bathroom, I could barely keep my eyes open. He climbed back under the blankets and shifted over towards me until he could pull me right against his chest with our legs intertwined.

"That was nice," I sighed happily, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms as I nuzzled my nose into his toned pecs.

They shook as he chuckled and a giggle slipped from my lips as well.

"It was," he agreed, kissing the top of my head the same way he had at the start of this little rendezvous.

There was a heaviness in the air, the underlying unspoken words and the conversation that needed to be had hung between us, but I couldn't bring myself to ruin the moment. I'd spent so much time thinking about this, what it would be like to be in his arms again, I couldn't bare to say anything that might make him pull away and snap out of the moment of insanity we'd slipped into.

So, I didn't and neither did he. With one final, gentle kiss goodnight, we stayed tightly in our embrace until we drifted off into a contented sleep.

Part Three

#chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans x ofc #chris evans smut #once bitten twice shy

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chocosvt · 3 years

Text

⚬ pairing: joshua x reader ⚬ word count: 5040 ⚬ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⚬ genres: FLUFF, shallow angst, guitarist/bandmate!joshua, some annoying neighbour tropes, a little bit of pining, wintery pizzazz, joshua is a hopeless romantic :(

✧✎ synopsis: somebody new just moved into the upstairs apartment. they’re loud, irritatingly sweet, and unfortunately, very pretty. but you’re not looking for a new relationship, even if it comes in the form of joshua hong.

✧✎ a/n: oooUUooouu YES! this is a gift to my lovely secret santa, @luvshuas !! ♡ in my first ask, i learned that dani liked using paint by numbers, AND I THOUGHT THAT WAS ADORABLE so i helped use it to create this fic! dani, you are such a joy to talk to AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS XOXOXO !! :D

Last week, someone new had moved into the empty apartment one floor above yours. You didn’t know who. Not their name, not their face, just that they occupied the once vacant space of room 24D. Supposedly, their next-door neighbours had already brought them some housewarming gifts. A watering can filled with flowers, a wreath of white candles, and an old sewing tin now converted into a container for oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

All closely resembling the gifts you received during your first week at the apartment complex. It made sense though, considering most rooms were home to very elderly couples. At first, you planned a brief gap in your day to visit this stranger and welcome them to such a small complex. Find out if they were old or young, endearing or irritable, sensible or flat out crazy. But you never visited room 24D, because you were currently in a moat about your ex-partner.

An extremely deep, inescapable moat.

Not only had they broken up with you on the day you planned to introduce them to your parents, they decided it would be most efficient to do so through a stupid text message. From Monday to Friday, you’d been moping in a curled-up ball on the couch, blowing into tissues and flicking through the holiday romcoms even though they were all so cookie-cutter and dull. To make matters worse, it had been snowing all week, shutting you indoors as a draft built up outside the windowsills.

You had completely forgot about the newbie who’d just moved in upstairs. Until one day, when they decided to make their presence known in the most jarring way possible.

That particular morning, you were finally feeling stable enough to not eat dry, stale cereal straight from the box. You were feeling well enough to avoid another twelve hours moulding into the couch. While a cold wind blew against the windows and rattled the glass, you poured yourself some tea with the new teapot your mother parceled as an early present. And that’s when you heard it: an eruption of electric sound from the floor directly above yours. It sounded like a guitar, if that guitar were plugged into a massive amp and its chords were being plucked by one thousand fingers.

Coincidentally, you spilt tea, scalding and runny, all over the countertop. It started dribbling down your cupboards and creating blotches on the tiled flooring. At random, the sound stopped.

By lunchtime you were unwinding in the shower, your eyes shut as the water poured onto your face and streamed toward the drain. When you squeezed out some shampoo onto your fingers, you heard the chord progression again. This time louder, if that was even possible. The bottle flung from your wet hands and crashed against the floor, startling you half to death, a trail of wasted shampoo then painted to the wall. But the sound didn’t stop immediately. Unlike last time, the stranger railed on their guitar for half an hour at least.

Yet the last straw didn’t come until evening.

Sitting at the kitchen table with a water jar next to your elbow, you were using your new paint by numbers kit. You had been waiting all day to try it, brushing in the mesmerizing colours of a watery-purple landscape. For the last time that day, you were jolted by the riff of an electric guitar, causing you to jerk a huge, thick streak of black paint right across the paper, effectively ruining it. How horrible. How Terrible.

And you were not going to let the incident slide.

Room 24D.

The room directly above yours. After banging your fist rather inhospitably against the door, you couldn’t lie that the face which greeted you was a definite shock. A young man probably in his early twenties, with curly, brown hair styled neatly yet in disarray, and these wide, glass-like eyes that felt so penetrating you were afraid to glare him down. In fact, you were a bit nervous.

“I don’t know where you stayed at last, b-but at this complex, people don’t usually slam on their electric guitars.”

But so what if you were nervous? You had grown accustomed to sharing this complex with seniors. The thought of someone this young (and admittedly – quite beautiful) had somewhat stunted your brain. The stranger looked at you as though he had nothing to say. He started bobbing his head and shrugged.

“Yeah, well, I’m guessing it doesn’t happen ‘cause everyone here is over seventy and crochets scarves until bedtime. It’s not my fault you’re the only one who’s still got decent hearing.”

Your eyes narrowed; your brow heavily creased.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

He hesitated at first, then replied, “Joshua.”

“Okay, Joshua, I’d rather have everyone in this building crocheting scarves out the damn window if it meant not listening to a stupid electric guitar all day. You ruined my paint by numbers kit.”

Joshua laughed. “Your what?” He then flashed a grin which suggested he was holding back a satirical comment.

“My paint by numbers kit!” You repeated, feeling your nervousness dissolve into irritation. “It’s ruined, and I’m blaming it on you because it’s your fault. My whole week has been awful and you just made it even worse. So there. I hope you’re happy.”

For some reason, Joshua leaned his shoulder against the doorframe like someone who had all the time in the world. He appeared way too comfortable. Something about it irked you while simultaneously pulling this weird, fuzzy string in your chest. The boy folded his arms and raised a curious eyebrow.

“Why was your week awful?” He questioned.

There was a sweetness to his voice which hadn’t been there before, and you absolutely weren’t going to fall for it, even if it sounded like he ate a spoonful of honey and might taste just as good.

“No. Forget it,” you sighed, waving a dismissive hand, “I said what I had to say. Just be quieter, please.”

You turned around sharply, making your way toward the elevator based at the end of the corridor. Those magnetic eyes of his seemed to be glued to your backside, an almost palpable feeling.

“Okay!” He called out. “Great chat! Nice to meet you too!”

The boy was being wholly sarcastic of course. After returning to your apartment, you cleaned up the kitchen table, sweeping away your paint by numbers kit into a drawer just in case you were one day struck with the motivation to fix it up. Probably not.

“Uh—excuse me? You called me, remember? So don’t go shifting the fault like always. I just can’t believe how immature you are! And, you know what, I’m hanging up now! Don’t call back!”

Smashing your finger against the phone screen, you ended the call, silencing the aggravated voice that had pounded through the line just a second before. An unfortunate misdial resulted in your ex phoning you at the supermarket. The interaction immediately turned south, prompting you to hurry outside into the snow, wedging the brown paper bag of produce underneath your arm and against your chest, all while you barked into the phone with the other hand.

Snowflakes were brimming the edge of your wool hat; your fingertips numb and stiff. Your pacing, impatient footsteps were stamped across the white ground. Things had been difficult enough without your ex invading even the most boring parts of your life, and now a mundane stop at the market had left you intensely unsettled.

As you huffed a web of your breath into the air, you spotted something unexpected: Joshua helping Mrs. Akané load the groceries into her small silver-bullet car. She lived alone on the bottom floor of the apartment complex, one of the kindest old ladies in the whole building. Every winter she had knitted you a pink pair of mittens. When Joshua opened the car door for her, she gave him a gentle pat on his shoulder and her patented rosy-cheeked smile.

Since you scorned him for his abrasive guitar playing, it only happened less often, though it was never any quieter. You realized that he belonged in a band. From time to time they would take the stage at the downtown bar, engendering a space so packed it was nearly impossible to wriggle to the counter for a quick drink. Joshua invited you to his Friday night gig – which was tonight – and while you had contemplated the decision to attend, the disheartening encounter with your ex had officially soiled the mood.

Joshua noticed you, probably looking cold and mad.

“So,” he began, “are you coming tonight?”

Adjusting the groceries underneath your arm, you shrugged, meanwhile the hollow nature of your eyes screamed a blatant no. If anything, you wanted to be back on that living room couch, eating an entire tray of frosted shortbread cookies and dabbing at your tears.

“Seriously?” Joshua frowned. “You’re gonna pass? It is ‘cause you’re still mad about the guitar playing? I’m sorry, okay.”

“No,” you shook your head, “no, no. It’s not because of your disruptive, loud guitar playing. I’m just not having a good day.”

Bits of snow began to powder Joshua’s brown hair. His cheeks were blushed and his nose rosy.

“No offense,” the boy laughed, “but it seems like you’re never having a good day.” He then shook his head, scattering the snowflakes from between the fibres of his hair. “How about you come to our little concert shindig thing, listen to our set – which is great, I promise – then we can talk about it, back at my place.”

For a moment, you paused, and this perplexed expression briefly eclipsed your features. Did he just subtly attempt to persuade you into some sort of… Date? No, it was too soon for anything like that. He was probably joking anyways (despite his straight face).

“I don’t know… I’m tired. Maybe another time.”

You started carrying the brown bag of produce to your car, parked just down the street. Joshua chuckled and tagged along at your side, the snow crunching softly under your feet.

“When’s another time?” He asked.

Throwing open the car door and sliding the bag inside, you sighed. “Another time is another time. It’s self-explanatory.”

“So you’re not coming?” Joshua questioned in finality.

“No.” You replied, rubbing your cold fingers together, attempting to spark some warmth. “I’m not.”

It was then that Joshua took your hands in his, a gesture that completely flicked you off your axis, and started to squeeze them, kneading your skin with his thumbs until you felt the uncomfortable stiffness gradually wear off. He brought your hands close to his face, pursed his pink, very pretty lips, and started to blow on them. A sensation fizzled to life in your lower tummy. Not only were you heating up significantly, but you felt too hot. Scary hot.

“That’s a shame.” Joshua said, releasing your hands carefully, like he’d just touched gold. “But I can wait for another time.”

You couldn’t sleep that night.

Most likely because you were regretting the decision to not attend Joshua’s gig at the bar. The fact that no matter how hard you pushed, memories of your past relationship would still linger like a heavy mist, preventing you from being happy, from detaching, from forming new connections. Wet drops of snow tapped against your window. And then, at around one in the morning, you heard a knock at your apartment door.

Joshua. Evidently intoxicated. His guitar case slung over his back. A foggy sort of look disrupting his usual countenance.

“Hey there,” he mumbled, rubbing at his eye, “couldn’t get into my room. Think I could crash—” the boy stopped midsentence to yawn and hiccup, his face flushed pink, “crash here?”

“Did you walk home from the bar?” You asked, disregarding his inquiry.

“No, Jihoon drove me.” Joshua answered, bracing his hand against the threshold. “Pretty please? Can I stay?”

“Fine.”

You took the dark green guitar case from Joshua’s back, stamped with numerous luggage stickers that made it seem as though he’d flown all over the globe. After settling the case beside the couch, you helped Joshua lie down, though he flopped rather ungracefully with his face squished into a pillow.

For an awkward moment, you were just standing there, twiddling your thumbs as Joshua squirmed onto his back.

“Do you want a glass of water?” You proposed.

Joshua carded a hand through his brown locks and further dishevelled them. His face seemed to glow and the manner in which his eyes softly shut had you feeling oddly sympathetic. Like you needed to take care of him.

Rather than answering your question, Joshua sighed.

“I can’t believe you flaked on me.” He said. “I looked forward to seeing you there all week. I told my friends about you.”

Your toes dug into the carpet; teeth fastened into your bottom lip. You couldn’t tell if he was rambling drunken nonsense or being wholly truthful. Joshua titled his head to the side, nestling his cheek comfortably against the pillow.

“Like I said, there’ll be another time.”

“Can I have a blanket?” He mumbled sleepily.

Disappearing into your bedroom for a moment, you grabbed Joshua a spare blanket which often lied next to you on the bed, just in case it got a little too cold at night. Your heating was fairly shabby.

“Here you go.” You said, dropping it on him.

After pulling the fabric up to his chin and spending a minute getting comfy, Joshua started smiling, lashes long against his cheeks.

“Appreciate it.” He replied. ”Kick me out early if you want.”

When Joshua scheduled his next gig at the bar, you made sure to be there, settled near the back at the cocktail counter. As you anticipated, the space filled up quickly, and you kept tucking in your legs whenever someone scooted by to use the washroom or find a better vantage point. You didn’t mention that you were coming. It was supposed to be a surprise which had oddly excited you. Like you were someone important to him, even though you probably weren’t.

You enjoyed his band’s performance. While sipping at something syrupy and a little too cherry flavoured, you couldn’t help but smile behind the glass, shake your foot even, as Joshua strummed down on the electric guitar. There was a pink-haired drummer seated behind him, and a bassist with a dashing, heavenly smile. Eventually, the tone of their music shifted near the end of the set. Joshua exchanged his electric guitar for the acoustic one kept in that dark green, stickered case. And when he started to sing a slower, more sentimental song, you felt something cotton-like in your chest.

How could his voice be this soft? How could it turn so sweet? How could his eyes switch from a powerful ripple to calm water? And why were you heating up all over? The glass hit your knee as you continued to watch Joshua sing, as though you’d fallen into a trance, like a sailor caught by the lullaby of a siren.

But then, as your eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment, they attached to some who looked awfully familiar.

Goddammit. Of course.

Why did your stupid ex have to be everywhere?

Why did they have to invade every aspect of your life? Especially the enjoyable parts? Once the stage ended and Joshua began thanking the crowd for an energetic reaction, they turned around and grabbed their friend excitedly. Yet, the thrill on their face disappeared the second they noticed you, glaring bitterly, angrily, still clearly hurt. That’s when you decided to leave.

You were halfway down the block when you heard your name being shouted. Pausing beneath a street lamp, you attempted to peer through the heavy flurries sweeping down from the night sky. A silhouette began to take shape. Joshua finally pressed through into the light, without his jacket, his equipment, or even a damn sweater.

“What the hell are you doing out here?” You questioned him, wondering how cold he must be feeling in that white t-shirt.

Joshua took a few more steps forward. “I saw you there,” he replied, still trying to catch his breath, “but then you just stormed out. I nearly threw myself down the back entrance trying to catch up with you, y’know. How do you walk that damn fast?”

“I just—I wanted to beat the crowd home.” You lied.

Joshua took in another big breath, then nodded his head. “So, what did you think? You like the music?”

“It’s cool… Why did you leave without a jacket? I mean, it’s snowing like crazy. You’re gonna get hypothermia or something.”

“Well, I didn’t want to let you get away.” The boy laughed, brushing off some flurries compiling on his shoulder. “It was great to see you there. But, why didn’t you tell me? Why the secrecy.”

You shrugged. “Why should I tell you?”

At that, you weren’t expecting Joshua to have a response. Maybe he’d be a little puzzled and have to think about it. Instead, he seemed to be formulating a surprise of his own.

“Because I have a song for you,” Joshua revealed, “I wrote it with Jihoon. It’s an acoustic thing. But I could turn it hard rock too.”

It felt like someone had turned the table. Ironically, you were the one struggling to reply, your brow furrowing in the dim light as you stared at this boy with his glowing cheeks and his hair disrupted by the flakes of snow. You sniffled, cold air hitting your lungs.

“Why would you write a song about me?”

No one had ever done such a gesture for you before. Not that you had been acquainted with many musicians or lyricists. You felt strange, but also warm, and heart-fluttery, and like you were possibly falling for someone harder than ever before. Joshua approached you tentatively and grabbed your hand, his eyes soft.

“Probably because I like you.” Joshua murmured. “A lot.”

Your heart started to pound, and it felt like someone was banging their fists against your chest. Even if you had denied it in the beginning, the truth was that you liked Joshua too. And yet, those reciprocating words somehow fell to the bottom of your feet. Because as much as you wanted it, you still weren’t ready for someone new.

“Joshua…” you squeezed his hand and looked into those endearing eyes of his, “I-I can’t right now. I was in a relationship not too long ago, and now that’s over, but I’m still trying to get over it. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

The boy shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry.” Joshua answered, running his thumb between your knuckles. “You’re not ready, I get it.”

Breathing out slowly, you smiled at him.

You were yanking open all the drawers in the kitchen, trying to remember where exactly you had stuck that little metal whisk. A bowl of unmixed cupcake batter was waiting to be stirred. Each year that it was open, you signed up for the Complex Gift Exchange, and it just so happened that sixty-five-year-old Miss Dupont really liked vanilla cupcakes. You pulled out the drawer that had been hiding the ruined, stained paper courtesy of your paint by numbers kit.

Rolling your eyes, you slammed it shut, only to realize you’d left the whisk sitting behind the big bag of flour on the counter.

Even though you had turned down Joshua that one night in the snow, he didn’t act spiteful or weird about it. And somehow, you two had grown closer since. Joshua was very easy to talk to. He was a good listener. No matter how many times you ran into each other on the elevator, or at the supermarket, the letter boxes in the lobby or at the car lot, Joshua always made time to listen to whatever mishap had bothered you that day. He still railed on his electric guitar every now and then, though you were beginning to accept it. Baby steps.

Apparently, one of his bandmates was visiting today.

You knew exactly when he’d arrived too, because as soon as you pulled the cupcakes out from the oven to cool, this wave of intense sound; drumming, symbols, guitar, everything, exploded from the floor above, like someone had just thrown a clump of instruments into a hurricane. You stared up at the ceiling winsomely and sighed.

Dressed in a long, thick winter coat, you went outside the complex to visit the garden, now blanketed by snow and sparkling white. You brushed off the bench that had once sat before a fiery pink row of petunias and took a seat. It was much quieter.

“Hey!”

Or so you thought.

Turning around, you gazed up at the apartment complex, spotting two familiar faces hanging out from a fourth story window.

“What?!” You shouted back.

Joshua grinned, then cupped his hands around his mouth as an amplifier. “Were we being too loud?!” He asked.

“Yeah!” His friend yelled. “Were we too loud?!” You had learned the other face was Jihoon, the band drummer, his hair now a rusty shade of crimson. He helped write most of their music.

“No, I’m just sitting out here in the wind and snow and below zero temperatures because I want to!” You replied at the top of your lungs.

Waving at you apologetically, Joshua kept smiling. “Sorry! I’m gonna kick him out soon!” He pointed at Jihoon. “If you want, you can come up here and listen to our last rehearsal!”

Jihoon shoved Joshua’s head out of the way.

“Don’t come up here!” The drummer exclaimed. “It’s not even close to ready yet. He’s just saying that because he’s in—”

A hand clamped swiftly to the boy’s mouth, muffling the remainder of his sentence like it was top secret. Joshua then dragged him away from the open window. Quirking an eyebrow in confusion, you stared at the vacant space until Joshua reappeared a moment later, scratching the back of his head and looking sheepish.

“Sorry about that!” Joshua called. “We’re almost done!”

“I’m in no rush!” You answered, turning back around.

It was true. There weren’t too many pressing things you needed to get done today, besides making the buttercream frosting for Miss Dupont’s cupcakes. The weather wasn’t even as terrible as you made it seem. The wind was light, and the shining sun helped mitigate the usual bitterness of winter. It was quite nice out.

Until about ten minutes later, when Joshua threw a snowball at your back. You spun around quickly, glaring at the boy who was dusting his hands clean of snow, standing near the complex doorway. In that moment, you wanted to be angry at him. But, to be honest, you felt like laughing instead.

“Shouldn’t I be the one throwing snowballs at you?”

Joshua shrugged. “If you could even hit me.”

“Keep your eyes open tonight, Joshua Hong.” You comically threatened him. “Where are you going, anyways?”

“I have to get my person a gift for the exchange thing.” He said, pulling a hat over his hair. “And a new guitar pick.”

“Have fun with that.”

Then, waiting for him to turn around, you hastily packed together a snowball and threw it against the back of his coat.

Miss Dupont somehow figured out who was responsible for her gift. She asked you to give her the cupcakes early, because she swore, she was had been able to smell them baking through the air ducts. Maybe you added too much vanilla. Everyone was supposed to exchange their gifts tomorrow, leaving them by the door or delivering them in person. You didn’t have a clue as to who could be preparing your gift. As long as it wasn’t another candle wreath to collect dust in your closet, you figured you’d be fine with it.

Tonight would be your last opportunity in a long while to watch Joshua’s band perform at the downtown bar. You’d missed their last show, ruminating over the possibility of encountering your ex again; feeling those horrible emotions which were nothing more than poison in disguise. After the New Year, Joshua was planning to visit South Korea with his bandmates for a few weeks. It would be awfully strange to not hear another symphony from his electric guitar, or Jihoon’s drumkit. Jeonghan never really stopped by much.

It was at least an hour or so before Joshua was scheduled to perform. So, you decided to walk down the street to the lane of trees now wrapped and curled with lights. There were small, twinkling white lights. Large, blue lights shaped like hanging icicles. Some blinked in a specific pattern while others morphed colours. At night, it made quite the spectacle. Many people had stopped, much like yourself, to admire the aurora and pull their significant other a little bit closer. You huffed, hating this lonesomeness inside you.

But then you felt a quick pair of fingers dance up your back, and immediately recognized his eyes shining like stars.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you at the lights.” Joshua remarked, zipping up his jacket. “They’ve been up for a while now.”

“It’s always a magnet for couples.” You told him, glancing around at all the handholding and heads leaned adoringly on shoulders. “And I am—well, I was, standing here alone.” Inside your coat pocket, you played with a piece of lint, realizing that perhaps you finally felt ready and significantly healed to consider another relationship.

Looking at you from the corner of his eye, Joshua nodded.

It seemed as though the lights were a place he visited frequently, even amongst all the couples. To you, Joshua seemed like someone who was inspired by love. The not so subtle nature of awkward yet enamored eye contact which made people giggly. Holding onto the very tips of someone’s fingers because you couldn’t let go of their hand even for a second. Pressing an ear to a comfortable chest, listening for a rhythmic, thumping heartbeat. You bet he liked kisses too. Quick kisses on cheeks and gentle kisses on noses and slow, warm kisses to the mouth which could set a fire in your belly.

Out of the blue, you asked him something personal.

“How fast do you usually fall for someone?”

Joshua’s eyes traced the twinkling lights of the tree, all the way to the very top.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Kicking at a lump of hard snow, you sighed. “I think I fall too quickly. Maybe that’s why my last relationship ended the way it did. I just… I don’t know, it could be that I jumped in without knowing what’s beneath me. I don’t want that to happen again.”

The boy glanced at you, snowflakes already beginning to stick in his hair. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with taking things slow. I mean, there’s always going to be some chance in a relationship. You don’t know until you’re in it.”

“I guess so.” You replied. “When I think about it, anything’s better than getting text message-dumped right before a family dinner.” Joshua wasn’t a stranger to the humiliating affairs of your past relationship. One night, after one too many beverages at the bar, you introduced him to the entire story.

“Bad luck.” The boy said.

“Bad taste, more like.” You sighed. “I mean, what was I thinking?”

Joshua shook his head, his hand rubbing your shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. Seriously, the right person will come along.”

Short laughter burst through your nose, and you looked at him with a knowing, lighthearted grin. “Are you supposed to be that person, Joshua Hong?”

“I’d like to think I am.” He chuckled, his cheeks getting rosier. “But I know you’re not ready. I can be patient, though.”

“So, you’re going to wait for me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joshua nodded. “For you, and you only? Of course.”

At that, something deep in your chest began to stir. The feeling robbed you of your words and left you breathless. Afraid of what you might do in the silence between you, quickly, you changed the subject.

“Am I going to hear that special song you wrote? Or have you scrapped it already?”

“You’ll hear it.” Joshua said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out an ivory guitar pick. “Save your applause for the very end, though. I know you might be tempted to start cheering, come up on stage in front of everyone and try to kiss me or something.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to laugh, your breath becoming a thin cloud in the still coldness of winter.

“You wish, Joshua Hong.”

He sighed, a faint smirk on his lips. “You’re right. I do.”

At approximately five o’clock in the morning, you were awakened by a fist banging at your front door. For a moment, you believed it was nothing more than part of a fuzzy dream, and simply tossed over in bed as your arms dug further under the pillow. However, the banging resumed almost instantly, and though it was very muffled, someone was calling your name.

Groaning, you dragged yourself from between the sheets and into the washroom, taking a quick sip of water before splashing some to your face. In a loose pair of shorts and a poorly adjusted tank-top, you stumbled to the front door, throwing it open while yawning.

“J-Joshua?” You mumbled, rubbing circles to your eye.

He stood on the opposite side of the threshold with a glimmery-red gift bag in his hand. For some reason, he was dressed in his jacket, those dark brown locks of his seeming damp or partly soaking as they were brushed back from his forehead. His cheeks and mouth were rosy, eyes glistering, and he was breathing deep.

You thought he looked gorgeous.

“Hey!” He exclaimed a little too loudly, as though he’d forgotten how early it was. “So, uh, weird news. Turns out we’re leaving for South Korea today, and we have to catch this seven-am flight. We’re kinda pressed for time. Jeonghan’s been helping me throw all my shit into these suitcases and—anyways, besides the point.” Taking in another breath, Joshua then held up the pretty red gift bag. “I got you for the Gift Exchange. Well—not really. But I made Mrs. Akané switch with me. This is for you.”

The sudden splurge of information had for feeling even more disorientated than when you first awakened. Joshua had to leave already? Had he been packing ever since you walked home together from his show? He pulled strings to get you for the Gift Exchange?

Reaching into the bag and pushing around some tissue paper, you pulled out a rectangular-shaped kit. It felt fairly heavy.

And then you realized just what he’d gotten you.

“Really?” You smiled, letting the bag drop to the floor because all you cared about was the project in your hands. “Another paint by numbers kit? I didn’t even know they sold these here!”

Joshua nodded, brushing some melted drops of snow off his cheek. “It wouldn’t have arrived on time if I ordered it online. Trust me, it was a process. I had to get Jeonghan’s grandma to make some calls because she’s friends with this craft store lady.” He half-sighed, half-laughed. “I just remembered you were so upset about it when I met you. About a lot of things. And I never stopped feeling sorry. I know I laughed at it and everything, but I thought it was cute.”

You brought the project to sit on the dinner table. Looking outside into the street light, you were shocked at how heavily it was snowing. Huge, fluffy clumps. No wonder Joshua’s hair was so damp and his skin so flushed. You couldn’t believe that just a few hours ago, you were sitting on that barstool near the back of the dim room, listening to him sing and feeling like you were starting to love all over again. Now, Joshua was being whisked away.

“I should really get going.” Joshua said, rubbing his pink nose, “Jeonghan and Jihoon are waiting for me down there.”

“W-Wait!” You exclaimed before the boy could disappear.

Joshua paused, though you could read the look of urgence coloured to his face. It was merely a few seconds you stood in that spot, fiddling anxiously with your fingers and struggling to take another step, yet it felt as though time had stretched itself out like plasticine.

And even though it was slightly terrifying, you had never felt so warm and full of thrill until you had crossed the space to kiss him. Your hands pushed against Joshua’s chest, searching for stability, as you experienced the soft sensation of your lips pressed so desperately to his. Joshua grabbed your cheek in his cold hand to tilt your head a little more left. He stared at you with a hazy, sort of dreamlike look, just for a moment, before kissing you again.

“Am I making you late?” You laughed breathily in between the heated breadth of another kiss.

Joshua shook his head, taking your face in both his hands, moulding his mouth against yours in a smile.

“They can wait just a minute longer,” he answered, “I can’t believe you’re doing this right when I have to leave. You’re really screwing me over, here.”

“Then finish it when you get back.” You smirked.

This time, you were certain of something: you hadn’t jumped too soon. You weren’t going to crash. You were falling in love.

✧✎ a/n: the end the end!! happy holidays !! <3 honestly think it’s kind of the dream to get joshua as ur apartment neighbour xoxo. HOPE U LIKED THIS DANI AND THAT IT GAVE YOU SOME SMILES heheh. i actually haven’t written for joshua in quite a while so i rly appreciated getting to experiment with this. i also love the idea of joshua in a band and being a sappy romantic who always writes abt his future muse ;_; i’m not a huge fluff person BUT I WILL GLADLY GIVE UP EVERYTHING FOR THAT!

#caratwritersclub #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt fanfic #joshua fanfic #joshua hong #seventeen fanfic #svt fluff #joshua fluff #svt x reader #joshua x reader

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

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Curiosity // Luke Patterson

Summary: After filling up another journal designed his songbook Luke is left empty handed. With the offer to a shelf of blanket journals is given he’s immediately choosing. But Luke’s curiosity leads him to a discovery. In other words Luke finds Perfect Harmony in Reader’s bedroom.

Requested: Yes by @averyharrypotterlife

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.7 (including lyrics)

A/N: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the 5000+ followers whether it was years ago and you didn’t unfollow or in the future. Thank you for enjoying and interacting in something I’ve always loved: writing.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX PLEASE!

Masterlist

Luke’s always been a curious person going as far back as his early childhood. The most consistent evidence being during the Christmas holidays. Until he was ten, yes, he’s aware that his friends stopped believing in Santa way earlier. The young lad would stay up hidden in the living room waiting to catch Santa. Without fail, Luke would wake up in his outer space planet sheets having fallen asleep in his mission.

When he was twelve years old, he was left at his aunt and uncle’s house for the weekend due to a work-related thing. His older cousin was eighteen at the time and at college, so Luke stayed in his bedroom. Luke couldn’t help but snoop through Bryan’s personal items, and in a drawer with a false bottom, he discovered magazines.

Luke had a lot of fun that weekend diligently going through the magazines his mother would skin his hide even knowing about them. He may have had to use the excuse of having a cold for the entire box of Kleenex missing. No one was the wiser on that weekend.

Now when Luke was fourteen years old, he had snuck into the Rated R film Candyman with Alex and Reggie. Luke’s parents had been strict in their rules and definitely had shot down the question of seeing the film. The three didn’t sleep with the lights out for a month after that, and the truth came out when no lie was sufficient to their concerned parents.

Luke Patterson didn’t care about boundaries. Why ask for permission when you can just ask for forgiveness? It worked with going through Julie’s dream box, but all personal items got hidden from the ghostly guitarist.

“No!” Luke exclaimed flipping through his song journal once more in hopes of a blank page. The frustration in his body snapping the pencil he had been using.

“You good?” You questioned glancing up from the essay you graded as a teacher’s assistant for an AP course. Luke’s frustrated brown met yours with a cute pout on his lips.

“I’ve filled my journal up. I hate using loose-leaf, but no money means no buying things.” Luke roughly scrubbed one hand on his face.

“You could always just forever borrow one from the- “Luke quickly shot that down with a look of absolute horror, “Okay…so stealing a no.”

“I did listen to my parents on certain aspects. I would never steal anything, other than the food when we didn’t have enough cash.” Luke’s brown hue had softened back into the hazel that caused flutters in your heart, “I have no respect for thieves.”

You nodded before scribbling a suggestion on the paper in dark red, “I have a shelf in my room dedicated solely to blank journals. If you want to, you can take one free of charge.”

With a quick smile, Luke disappeared from the room to your personal domain he sometimes hung out with you in. You had no misgivings on the teen finding solace in your room and gave him free rein; your prized possessions hidden very well.

Luke appeared in the soft blue and lilac bedroom with the queen white iron wrought style bed in the middle. A white desk in the corner with a multitude of bookcases and shelves in the room. The desk chair neatly pushed into the desk as well he went straight to the shelf.

Journals of all colours and styles with a label on the shelf noting them as empty. It was packed with dozens, but it was the midnight blue one that called to the boy. In his reach, he bumped an emerald green one off the edge. It opened having hit the edge of the desk.

As he leaned down, he noticed notations in the margins, now remember how Luke is a curious guy? He only hesitated a second before he was reading the pages of words in your signature script.

The guilt flared for a second before he justified it as being on the shelf you declared free game. So Luke settled sitting criss-cross against the side of your bed reading the words so eloquently written. Even notes allowed Luke to hear the melody in his mind.

Assignment: Write a piece of literature from two points of views. Genre doesn’t matter as long as it is a minimum of one page and not exceed eight.

Step into my world

Bittersweet love story ’bout a girl

Shook me to the core

Voice like an angel

I’ve never heard before

The words took his breath away, recalling a moment he gushed to Alex on how he had caught you singing. He had described your voice as being angelic, and it took him by complete surprise. He remembered Julie, and you entered the room shortly after with a nervous feeling if you had heard. Now Luke had his answer. His phantom heart pounded in anticipation for the reply to this first point of view.

Here in front of me

They’re shining so much brighter

Than I have ever seen

Life can be so mean

But when he goes, I know he doesn’t leave

The smile threatened to split his face with the elation as he continued reading with a subconscious hum. His fingers tapping the sides of the paper as his hazel irises tinged green ate up the words.

The truth is finally breaking through

Two worlds collide when I’m with you

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

The world faded as Luke distinctly heard your angelic voice singing the parts he could easily recognize as perfect for you. There was something so powerful in this incredibly personal song only intended for your eyes and your teachers.

The next handful of lines left him breathless and astonished as he visualized not sitting across from each other. But engaging in another art form that can be so incredibly intimate for people; he imagined singing this while holding you in his arms.

You set me free

You and me together is more than chemistry

Love me as I am

I’ll hold your music here inside my hands

We say we’re friends, we play pretend

You’re more to me, we’re everything

Our voices rise and soar so high

We come to life when we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Luke went from humming to softly singing to the heartfelt tune with a flutter of butterflies deep in his stomach. When Julie saw Unsaid Emily, he had denied it as an experiment, and it was the truth. Luke wrote rock anthems and rock-pop with his living friend. He never dabbled into romantic ones.

He’d never read something so poetically beautiful it felt him weeping at the sheer amount of feelings.

I feel your rhythm in my heart

Yeah yeah yeah

You are my brightest burning star

Whoah whoah oh

I never knew a love so real (so real)

We’re heaven on earth

Melody and words

When we’re together we’re

In perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

Perfect harmony

Whoa-oa-oa, whoa-oa-oa

We say we’re friends (we play pretend)

You’re more to me (we create)

Perfect harmony

His eyes found the last line of the song setting him back in a dead silence returning to the start to reread it. On his third read, he found the notes from your teacher on a separate page.

Y/N, in my years of teaching, I’ve never read something with such meaning behind it. The longing, passion, respect and love you artfully encapsulated is rare. To have written, this means you’ve felt this. No corrects needed, and I felt compelled to not mark on the piece. Thank you for being vulnerable with me, for letting me step inside your mind and please never let this emotion fade.

Your grade is A+.

Luke’s lips pulled apart at the genuine words your teacher had written because it indeed was a word of art. Carefully Luke returned the notebook back to the shelf to retrieve the blue one that caught his attention. AS he turned, he found you leaning against the door frame with a soft smile.

“I am so sor-“

“No.” You replied, walking into the room, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. I told you any notebook on that shelf. I can’t get mad, and I’ve seen you can’t leave something half-read.”

“Probably why my book reports were insanely well done in school.” Luke joked as you stepped in his personal space. The tension faded from his shoulders as he took in your features, “You got a perfect grade.”

“I did.” You simply spoke, staring up into his eyes, “You helped me with it.”

“How?”

“You told Alex what you felt about my voice. You looked nervous when I walked in, so I let it go. It wasn’t the time to bring it up. It’s called Perfect Harmony.” You told the ghost gently grazing your fingertips on his hand. The feeling sends shudders down his spine.

“I guess it just wasn’t the right time. With the band and-“

“-the whole soul owning thing. Too much but now that you’ve read that…what do you feel?” You hesitantly asked because reading it and discovering how someone feels is another to if the feelings are reciprocated back.

“That I was always meant to live in 2020. That I was meant to love you with every atom in my very being.” Luke murmured before he crashed his lips onto your own in a searing kiss that had your toe-curling.

The midnight blue journal dropped to the floor as his large calloused hands cupped your face to feel the warmth. The very journal would be filled with songs all about this person, Luke adored not matter his state as a ghost. Two worlds collided just as two souls came together in perfect harmony.

So, wrapped up in each other Luke didn’t notice something magical encased in the warm love. In the bedroom, the two teens were kissing in had two distinct heartbeats with a glow emanating from Luke Patterson.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #julie and the phantoms imagines #charlie gillespie imagines #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #caitsy and ash productions

455 notes · View notes

monkey-network · 3 years

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Why Klaus IS Christmas Kino

Klaus isn’t flawless, let’s get this out the way. My love for this film won’t deny that it bears a couple nits that can distract the experience. Jesper and Alva’s relationship felt like an eye-rolling inevitability, notable cliches here & there, a notable song felt both fitting and out of place, and while enjoyable, I’m not as big a fan of the climax as I thought. But in spite of it all, I love this film and it is one of the best modern animated Christmas films, period? Follow me here. I could go on about its wonderful animation cuz yeah, it’s unlike any other film. But a philosophy of mine is that the best animation enhances the writing and I can say Klaus is that surprisingly well written and has become an all time Christmas fave

*deep breath in* So let’s do this...

I mention that Klaus has its cliches, but you gotta know that it’s smarter than expected. Believe me when I say if the writers didn’t care, this could’ve actually been so much worse. Jesper could’ve been more manipulative towards everyone for his goals, Klaus would’ve given up entirely after knowing the truth about Jesper, we could’ve had an argument between Jesper and his dad about upholding business, the townsfolk could’ve reverted back to their old ways, plenty writing moments where this could’ve been Emoji Movie levels of insulting to your intellect. BUT, they don’t. The film never really turns back on itself, it keeps moving where, as the notable quote goes, an act of good will sparks another as it starts with Jesper’s father.

Even if nepotism was responsible for Jesper getting the job in the first place, he clearly sees his son be more spoiled than he’s worth so is like, “Ma boi, I will send you to the ends of the earth or leave you to the streets if you don’t do something with yourself.” He never cared about his son representing the postal company, or ruining his top class image, he was only tired of Jesper taking advantage of his fortune while not having any ambition of his own. Can’t help but say Jesper’s dad is a very respectable character because the sole reason the whole plot happened in the first place was because he just wanted his son to do better. It’s that act of genuine consideration that pushes Jesper to his wake up call as he reaches Smeerensburg.

People have compared this movie to Emperor’s New Groove through Jesper’s character and I say yes, but this film takes that next step and put Jesper in the pit of pits way early. Reminds me more of Ratatouille’s beginning where Remy’s lowest point is around the same time as Jesper’s. The harsh atmosphere of the island is treated very blunt in how this is our mailman’s nightmare come true. With his situation, our guy is truly at his lowest. Gives up now, he’ll be cut off his inheritance and probably will have worse. Everyone hates him and each other, his post office itself is in shambles, symbolic of how communication is practically thin outside conflict, and the teacher turned fish seller Alva is that path Jesper could notably be if he didn’t try. Everything is literally grey for this guy, but like Ratatouille, when you’re at your lowest there’s no where else to go but up. That’s where Klaus comes in...

This is genuinely the most clever interpretation of Santa I know, hands down. A well established woodsman, a crafter both of living, for him and the birds that reside in his woods, and recreation with the toys he made himself not just for kids, but specifically the kids he and his wife wanted but couldn’t have. Klaus feels like a real person, not just another take on the mythical man. You’re with him and Jesper as he, after familiar winds provide him a letter, a small spark to do something good, soon opens up and gets reminded of what’s kept him going all these years. It is no wonder he sees his wife in Jesper, it’s thanks to him that he could refurbish his dashed dream into a new one. He didn’t just want to do it for the children of the island, but for himself. That is another thing about this film: communication. I mention before how it’s practically thin at first due to a long going feud that isn’t even aware of why it’s still going. The joy in hate is only for hatred’s sake, and they make it very clear how miserable it all feels. That is where Jesper comes in. They don’t take shortcuts with how he gets the ball rolling, both accidentally and purposefully, he boots up to get things done, pushes himself to go to Klaus to make things happen. This is all in part by the youth, what really ties the plot together...

As I mentioned before (again), life in Smeerensburg is noticeably miserable but thanks to Klaus, by extension Jesper, the kids are enticed to do what it takes to get some genuine joy in their lives through the toys they’re able to get. They’ll make them letters, and if they can’t write, they’ll go to Alva for teachings, and if they act naughty, they’ll try to do good which in turn pushes the adults to do good for the sake of their kids. It really would’ve been one thing to sure enough make the kids spoiled because of the toy giving, focusing more on the extrinsic value of Klaus’s kindness but no. The children are very grateful for these gifts enough to feel compelled to do good, and it makes them feel good as much as it soon makes the adults more convinced to stop fighting. It helps that this all takes place in older times cuz I believe this would’ve been far different, possibly worse, if this took place in modern times. That or just kinda rip off Arthur Christmas, it’s my guess. As such, it gradually becomes an amazing Christmas film because it isn’t just the presents, the Santa Claus myth, the festive style of it all that makes this holiday special to me. It’s the warmth... of togetherness.

My favorite detail about Klaus is how it transitions from cold to warm with its atmosphere. We start out with the emptiest, harshest environment, enough fog to choke your eyes, and then we get to this moment with a brighter, clearer sight of the more united town as the Christmas spirit builds in the film, even when it isn’t even that day yet in-universe, so too does the warmhearted feeling that can come from celebrating it appear more and more. This film fleshes out more of what the Grinch taught me, what A Charlie Brown Christmas taught me, what I’ve come to appreciate about Christmas as I grew up in this materialistic world. I can say everyday can have the Holiday spirit, but Christmas is the time where I feel compelled to be grateful of what I’ve made and got and give back when honestly, I don’t care about getting the most expensive stuff anymore like I used to when I was way younger. This film is so sincere in what it wants to say, and you know this is indeed the same guy that made Minions. Yeah, not kidding and I’ll let you sit with that if you’re reading this as I continue because we have to talk about that moment...

Yeah, I don’t like being the Nostalgia Critic, but I too don’t take kindly to the ‘liar reveal’ trope myself and this could’ve been a point where the film lost me a little. Though you know what? It still works. See, with that trope, what sucks is that it can tend to unravel the plot to where you know as soon as they break apart, they’ll get back together regardless of the deed done. This is why I don’t like A Bug’s Life, don’t @ me. But I’m not saying it can’t done right, like in Over the Hedge. The breakup between Jesper and the others is painful, but it is necessary to give us a couple great character moments. One is with Jesper and his dad, who came back personally to see that Jesper has indeed built something for himself. We get no dialogue between them but it’s clear that even when Jesper’s unintentionally successful thanks to Yzma and Bubba, he can tell his son wasn’t happy leaving everything behind, so he lets him stay since that was what he truly wanted this whole time. Again, give that man some credit for amazing dad. Another moment comes before the big reveal where not only do we see Jesper come to understand his own guilt surrounding his original intentions, but in the end they never hated him for coming back, especially due to him inadvertently stopping the enemy feud all together. Lastly, without that moment, we probably wouldn’t have got this smile. When Margu, purest character ever that I could make a whole segment about but I don’t wanna keep you too long, started to tear up after calling for Jesper thinking he left for good but she then sees our guy never really left and we get this teary smile:

I felt that. Almost more than anything else in this film.

Cliched as it can appear, the execution excels in those more memorable emotions for this film. It’s been a year since I watched this again and I remember so much about these characters. And my god, I haven’t even gotten to the animation which... my god.

Klaus is indeed the most beautiful upon beautiful films I’ve seen, and what makes it better is that it all enhances the story. I mention before of its transitional visual from cold to warm sights, but goddamn, the character designs, the environments, the expressiveness, the textures all amount to style perfect for this alone. I think it would’ve as well received if it had a more flat look, but they seriously went higher for a traditional appealing story that compliments the unique children’s storybook look of it all. This honestly is better than most of modern Disney films that I’ve seen, ironic since it feels like if you took Tangled the Series and made it 3D with more fluid character animation. And if I’m comparing something to the continuous mindblower that’s Tangled the Series, you’ve most certainly got on my best side.

Sergio Pablos and his team really pulled no punches in making this a great movie. A great Christmas movie, one worth seeing if not at least once but every Holiday season for tradition’s sake. Klaus gave me a good time, made me cry, and above all showed me to never stop having a good heart because doing good can indeed go far, thankless as it can be. Heck, my heart felt more rejuvenated than before in making this critique, that’s a testament to how much good this film means to me personally. What else is there to say?

It's The Best

#Klaus #Klaus movie #klaus netflix #Klaus 2019 #movies #art #animation #Christmas #holidays #xmas #analysis #long post #reviews #Good Stuff

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annabethy · 3 years

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under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow: day 1

Day 01/25 Days of Christmas: Charcter A ad Character B, sworn enemies, are chosen to prepare the company Christmas party,, percabeth

“Chase!”

Annabeth doesn’t bother hiding the sneer that forms across her face at the sound of their voice. As Percy slides in front of her, his face is all too bright and cheerful. Her eyes linger on his torso, covered in a green Christmas sweater with plastic ruffles hanging off of it that makes her want to throw up.

“Why the face?” Percy asks. He leans over onto the desk she’s standing behind, carelessly shoving aside her blueprints. She nearly smacks him as she watches the papers go flying. Annabeth’s pretty sure he has a degree in marine biology, so what he’s doing working for an architecture firm, she will never know.

“It’s because I have to look the devil reincarnate in the eyes,” she deadpans.

“Oh, that’s not nice.” Percy grins wider. “I prefer to be called the Grinch. Christmas festivities, and all that.”

“I have a few words I could call you,” she agrees. “The Grinch is generous.”

“So grumpy.” Percy’s fingers wander around her desk, plucking an ornament off of the company’s mini tree. “So I need to talk to you.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I’ll have you fired,” he threatens, but he doesn’t seem the slightest bit upset. Annabeth will never understand how he is able to keep such a calm façade when he’s around her. From the moment he walked into that office, she has hated the arrogance with which he walked, and she had no trouble making it known. There hadn’t been a specific starting point to their rivalry, but it was there, and it burned brighter than the North star.

“What do you want?”

“You see, I was talking to Chiron,” he starts, and the twinkle in his eye has her terrified, rightfully so. “And he mentioned that he’s not prepared for the company Christmas party. I was all oh yeah, I can help out, and he was like you should totally do it, and I was like oh, sure thing, but then, get this—”

Annabeth has an inkling as to where this is going.

“He says you have to help me.”

“Jackson.”

“Yes?”

“Would you like be murdered so close to Christmas? Never get to see your poor mother again?”

“I would not like that, no, but I hardly think you’re capable of homicide.”

“You’d be surprised what I’m capable of,” she says. “Something about Christmas transforms me into Rudolph with rabies. It’s bad.”

“You’re too cute,” he coos.

She is tempted to bite him, and she has to retrain herself from doing just that when he pokes her on the nose.

“Anyways, you don’t have a choice. He said you have to.”

“Why me? Why not literally any other employee here.”

“I have no idea,” he says. “I tried talking him out of it.”

Her eye twitches. “Why do I get the feeling that you didn’t?”

“You always get the feeling that I didn’t, or I did, or whatever the wrong choice is. You just have it out for me.”

She doesn’t think that’s necessarily true. She only points him out when he does something wrong, which is all the time. And sure, maybe she spends extra time pointedly looking for anything she can call him out for, but she likes to call that keeping him on edge. Someone had to keep this kid in check if he wasn’t going to himself.

“So once your shift is over, don’t leave. Meet me in the conference room on the third floor, West wing.” “I will not be meeting you there.”

“Yes, you will because Chiron says you have to.” He suddenly sets the ornament back onto the tree, ever so gently, and leans in close. She is too stubborn to move away so he ends up whispering in her ear, his warm breath tickling her. “You may not listen to me, but we all know that you’ll do whatever he says. So. Five o’clock. See you there.”

Annabeth promises herself throughout the rest of the day that she won’t go. She doesn’t always have to listen to her boss, and it’s not like he’d fire her or anything if she didn’t show — she worked too hard to get where she is, and he is well aware of the rivalry going on between them.

Still, as she walks down the hall to the conference room, she can’t say she’s surprised. Chiron has done so much for her, and if she has to succumb to a few hours of torture to make up for it, then that’s exactly what she’ll do.

As she enters the room, she is met with the sight of Percy in the middle of the room, surrounded by the largest assortment of rainbow lights and garland that she has ever seen in her entire life. For a moment, she forgets about the fact that she is forced to be here. Instead, she focuses on the sparkle and joy she can just feel in the room, and the smile of pure excitement that is on his face.

“Where did you get all of this?” she asks, stepping inside. She has to make her way over a few glass decorations splattered about, but she makes it without completely dying.

“I went shopping,” he says, gleeful. He picks a string of lights up, inspecting it closely before dropping it back down onto his lap. Annabeth sits near him, but still far away that he can’t ‘accidentally’ choke her with Christmas lights.

“You paid for all of this?”

“Stole the company card. Where do you think I’ve been all day?”

And it dawns on her that he really hasn’t been there for most of the day. It’s no wonder it had been so quiet; he hadn’t been pestering her every two seconds.

She hums. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Desperate to leave?”

“With you here? Of course.”

Percy frowns but doesn’t say anything about it. “Just make this place look pretty.”

She tries her best, but it’s admittedly not very good. It kind of looks like Santa Claus and his elves threw a very messy tantrum. She stands next to Percy to inspect the final product. She can feel her ears tinging red.

“I don’t understand what happened here,” he says, baffled.

“I think my decorating skills were corrupted by your severe incompetence.” Percy smirks but turns to face her. “My severe incompetence?”

“Yes.”

“May I ask what I did this time?”

“What?”

“You’re always insulting me. Why?”

“Because—” She gestures vaguely. “You’re you.”

“I’m me?”

Her mind blanks. “Uh… ugly.”

Percy guffaws, but he doesn’t seem offended. “All this time I thought you hated me, but it’s actually because I’m ugly?” He whistles. “I don’t know whether to feel relieved or depressed.”

“Bit of both, perhaps.” Annabeth knows for a fact that her face is redder than the mistletoe along the edges of the room. Everything she could complain about and has complained about, and she says that he’s ugly? The one thing that he’s actually not? She may not like him, but even she can appreciate his sharp jawline and striking eyes.

“So if I were less ugly, you would stop calling me incompetent?”

“Exactly.”

“Ah.” Percy elbows her, and she squirms. “And here I was, thinking we were mortal enemies.”

“Oh, we are. I can’t be associated with ugly monsters.”

“Damn, Annabeth. Way to put salt in the wound.”

“You could always just insult me back.”

“Why would I do that?”

“You always do.”

At that, Percy faces her again, alarmed. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do!”

“I’m careful with my words. I may tease you, but I have never called you names.”

She tries to prove him wrong, but she suddenly can’t think of a single instance where he’s actually said something blatantly rude. It turns out she’s just a raging asshole.

“Call me ugly.”

Percy blinks. “What?”

“Now you made me feel bad, so say something mean. Make me cry. You have full permission.”

“I wouldn’t want to lie to you.”

It takes a second before she gathers what he’s saying, and she’s suddenly blushing from something entirely different than embarrassment. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I thought that was obvious.”

“I— no?”

Percy stares at her for what feels like an eternity. “I’ve been flirting with you since forever.”

She snorts. “I like to poke you on the nose and play with your hair. I wink at you, like, every day!”

“I thought you were just bullying me.”

“I’m sorry, but that does not qualify as bullying.”

“You made Chiron demand I decorate for a Christmas party.”

“Yeah, he never said that. He actually has no idea you’re here right now.”

“You did this!?”

“I wanted to spend time with you?” he tries in excuse.

“But we don’t like each other!”

“I thought we were always messing around. I didn’t know you actually despised me.”

She doesn’t know that she despises him. Strongly dislikes, maybe, but she doesn’t think she actually hates him. Now that she’s here, staring him in his green eyes, feeling like a kicked puppy is staring straight at her, she doesn’t know if she actually even disliked him, or was just too stuck to her pride to acknowledge that he wasn’t a terrible person.

“I don’t hate you.”

He sniffs. “Well now I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, you toddler.”

And somehow, Percy still smiles. She’ll never know how he keeps with the cheer. “So what I’m hearing is that we’re friends.”

Percy is too good for her. She insults him to his face and he just smiles through it. He doesn’t hesitate to reassure her, and now that she thinks of it, he never has. When she’s struggling to walk through the halls, Percy is always the first to help her carry her things, even when she hurls her nasty words his way. And the one time she was sick, he was the one to sit her down and drive her home. He’s always been so generous even when she doesn’t deserve it, and she doesn’t understand why she’s never seen it before.

It’s like something inside of her has shifted, like these few hours spent alone with him have suddenly erased everything she thought in the past. It makes sense, now that she realizes that the past was nothing more than an image she was too stubborn to replace.

“No?” Percy smiles. “I get it. You want to be my girlfriend.” She holds up a hand. “Wait a second—”

“Even better! My wife!”

She chokes, laughing. She thinks this might be the first time she let herself genuinely smile at something he’s said. It’s a nice feeling. “Let’s start with friends.”

Percy steps forwards, towering over her. “Oh, I’m so going to make you my girlfriend.”

Annabeth wants to protest, but with the look that he’s giving her now, making her legs go weak, she thinks that it just might be possible in this Christmas magic.

“Guess what,” he whispers, now directly beside her.

She trembles, a foreign chill shooting down her back. “What?”

“Mistletoe.”

She looks up, expecting to find the small plant being held above her head, but instead she is met with the sound of Percy laughing. “Made you look.”

She laughs along with him, shoving his chest playfully. “This is why I hate you.”

“Except you don’t hate me,” he says, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her in for a side hug. “You love me.”

“Sure,” she says.

“So you should kiss me then. If you love me, and all.”

If it had been two hours earlier, she would’ve said not a chance, but something’s changed. She isn’t sure what it is or when exactly it had happened between then and now, but something seemed to click. It has her reaching onto her toes to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, right on the dimple that appears as his face morphs into the kindest, gentlest smile.

“There,” she says softly. “A kiss.”

Percy bites his lower lip and shakes his head. There is a look on his face — adoration, she thinks. A voice whispers love. “I’m going to make you fall in love with me, Annabeth Chase.”

It doesn’t take long at all.

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #Percy jackson and the olympians #my writing

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

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The Holiday Diaster ~ SCB [Day Twenty Three: Advent Calendar]

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

GENRE: Prompt, fluffy, acquaintances to lovers

PAIRING: Changbin x Reader

The caller ID on your mobile wasn't one you were used to seeing too often. Changbin barely called you at all more often than not he only ever called you when you were with one of the other boys and they weren't answering him and he needed them for something. There was a gut feeling telling you that you should answer it, even if it was just to tell him that the boys weren't with you, it was Christmas eve they were all at the studio trying to get some work done before the holidays.

"Hi Changbin, the guys-" He cut you off talking in a panicked tone, you heard shuffling in the background and you frowned what could he be doing to make all of this noise?

"I know, please! Come around! I-I've done something and I need your help," He sounded panicked but it was normally like the guys to pull pranks on you so you had just assumed they'd somehow roped Changbin into it to make it more believable that something was ''wrong.''

"Yeah, right, what did you do burn the apartment down?" Your tone was laced with sarcasm as you laughed about it but you were met with a panicked yell as Changbin screamed,

"Yes! Please come to the dorms! It’s a Christmas disaster-" The line went dead, Changbin decided hanging up to control the fire would be better than letting it almost burn the entire dorms down. Panicking you rushed to grab your keys from your kitchen counter and headed out of your apartment building, practically sprinting down the stairs because the elevator took too long and in this cold climate you didn't trust it. The whole drive down you was trying to convince yourself that it was all some big joke, that Changbin wasn't actually dumb enough to burn the dorms down by accident...Maybe on purpose but not by accident.

"Y-You actually burnt the dorms down-" Your handbag dropped to the floor as you walked through to the kitchen of the Stray Kids dorms. Melted decorations were dripping onto the hardwood flooring below them, there was a tray of what looked like cookies on the counter.

"I was trying to make Felix's cookies and they sort of-"

"Exploded?" You questioned as you walked over to them, Changbin rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he began to realise the extent of what had happened in the kitchen. There were black burn marks up and down the wall behind the cooker,

"Seriously though...How?" As you stepped closer to the oven you answered your own question when you saw that the broiler was on, you felt your eyes roll as you turned to look at him.

"I thought you knew how to cook?" You teased as you began rolling up the sleeves of your hoodie and began searching around the cupboards for some cleaning supplies. It all needed to be cleaned before the boys got home and you assumed that was why he had called you over instead of them,

"I do, cook...Not bake." You giggled at the worried expression on his face,

"Get a bucket of hot water, a mop and some sponges. I'll run and get some more decorations when the floor and walls are cleaned and I'll help you,"

"You mean you'll stay?!" He tried to mask his excitement at the prospect of you staying to help him, you turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You called me to help...Didn't you?" He nodded smiling to himself as he went to get the bucket from the small cleaning cupboard. It was the real reason you and Changbin weren't as close as you were with the other boys, you had strong feelings for him but you didn't know it until it was too late. You both liked one another but never did anything about it, Changbin had never liked someone that much in a long time and had forgotten what it felt like to get so nervous around someone you stopped being able to function.

Sugar soap was the perfect thing to lift the staining from the tiles and floor but the burnt pan and cookies were gone for life. The cookies were so hard you could have used them for playing ice hockey,

"Do you still want cookies? I'll grab some ingredients while I'm getting decorations." You spoke out as Changbin continued washing up the bowl's he'd already used that morning,

"We have ingredients here but if you could get some festive frosting that would be good, here." He threw you the keys to the dorms from his pocket and you thanked him for it, promising to be back as soon as possible. The fact was, it was Christmas eve and not many places were going to be open and if they were you doubted they would have some decorations that would have matched the burnt and melted ones that were now in the trash.

"I got garlands, I got mistletoe for fun, I got banners and streamers and I even got this-" You pulled out the dancing Santa you'd gotten from the market. He was dressed in shorts, sunglasses with a strip of suncream across his nose,

"What does-" As soon as Changbin questioned it, he wished he hadn't, the Santa began singing and dancing to "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," while you sat there dancing along with it and laughing,

"I'm surrounded by children," Changbin grumbled turning off the Santa and placing it on the kitchen counter, he was going to place it on top of the fridge but he knew he couldn't reach up that high so he didn't bother.

"Do you have ladders? I can hang them up while you prep the cookies?" A chair was dragged out from under the dining room table,

"You're joking...Both of us are short Binnie how are we going to reach the ceiling?" You laughed looking at the chair instead of at Changbin, his heart was flipping as you called him 'Binnie' he'd never heard you call him anything other than his name before, his ears were burning at the idea of hearing it again.

"I'll make sure you don't fall, we have push pins. I'll get them." He had to get out of the kitchen to cool off a little bit, he was so caught up in you calling him by his nickname he'd almost forgotten how to breathe for a second.

"Perfect," You smiled taking the small box of pins from him but your hands caught one another and you felt sparks fly from the gentle touch. Butterflies were let loose in your stomach as you looked away from Changbin hoping he hadn't noticed how caught up you had gotten in the small touch.

"Hold the chair steady!" You yelled as you stood up on your tiptoes trying to hang up the less paper star you'd made,

"I am!" He yelled back at you getting more annoyed every time you told him to keep it steady when he already was, he thought this would be a breeze with you but you'd done nothing but squeal every time the chair moved or you dropped a pin onto the floor below you.

"Ah!" You screamed slipping backwards, the chair kicked out from underneath you and within seconds you were sitting bridal style in Changbin's arms as he stared into your eyes,

"I-I told you I got you," He stuttered out his eyes dancing between your lips as your eyes as he stared at you some more,

"You...You did," You breathed out feeling your heart pick up as you noticed where his eyes were going, yours did the same hoping that he would catch the hint and lean in to kiss you but he just gently lowered you down onto the floor and clapped his hands together.

"Cookies!" His voice boomed walking away from you while you picked up the chair, wondering if you'd just imagined him staring at your lips of if he had in fact done it.

"Cookies," You whispered, not as enthusiastically as him as your head was trying to work its way around the position you had just been in with him while his mind was racing about how he wanted to kiss you.

The tube of bright red icing was in Chanbin's hand as he stepped closer to you, you stepped back shaking your head as you tried to look for somewhere to go by you hit the curtain that hit the bins from the view of fans on Vlive.

"You're trapped," His voice was dark as he smirked at you,

"I-I- Mine was an accident! You got in the way!" You screamed trying to shield yourself from his attack but he grabbed onto your holding you in a tight embrace,

"An accident?! You squirted white frosting on my face and told me I look like I got too excited," You began giggling and laughing at the thought of what you'd done only to be met with a smudge of red icing across your face, hitting your teeth and going into your hair. Changbin was proud of his work and stepped away from you, ready to go back to decorating the Santa cookies you'd been doing together but you weren't over this.

Once the last cookie was decorated and placed out of the way you took a tube of blue frosting you'd used for snowflakes and hid it behind your back. Holding out your hand to shake Changbin's,

"We did a good job and we have an hour to spare," Changbin had a giant smile across his face as he felt accomplished for doing everything today, the dorms looked festive for the boys and the cookies were ready for them.

"Thanks, Y/n, I know we're not that close so it means a lot that you came around today," Your heart filled up as he began to thank you for everything, your plan began to feel unneeded as you wanted to tell him you'd enjoyed yourself.

"I-I had a lot of fun with you actually, it was nice spending some time with you alone." He smiled feeling his whole chest warm-up at the thought of it but then he saw the tube of icing behind your back and he knew what you were going to do.

"Me too, you erm...You have a little-" He reached out acting as if he was going to clear something from your face before he squirted the rest of the red icing at you. Hitting your white shirt and in your hair at the process,

"It's on!" You screamed squirting him back, running around the kitchen trying to hit him with the icing while he blocked off as much of it as he could while hitting you with his own.

"Changbin!" You cried out as he rushed up behind you and squirted the icing into your shirt without looking and squeezed you tightly,

"Ugh, it feels like I've been put through an icing machine," You whined out, for a second Changbin felt back for what he'd done but you turned around to face him in his arms and his heart picked up. You hadn't been this close to one another all day since he'd caught you from falling over,

"Hi," He whispered shyly looking at you,

"Hi," You whispered back to him wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as you finally decided to take charge of the situation,

"W-What are you doing?" He questioned nervously as he looked at you,

"I'm going to kiss you...If you'll let me and it won't hurt our friendship because we're not even that close..." He stared at you waiting for you to kiss him,

"Oh! Right! I want you to kiss me," He rushed out as he realised you were waiting to see if he wanted you to kiss him you stood up on your tiptoes as you connected your lips. It was like a wave rushed over your body as you began kissing him softly, his arms automatically wrapping around your waist to drawer your body closer to his own, his tongue ran along your bottom lip but you pulled away.

"Did I do something wrong?" He worried looking at you as you bit down on your lip, you shook your head. He'd done nothing wrong, in fact, the kiss had been nothing but perfect.

"We should clean up the kitchen, the kiss was amazing Binnie," You kissed his lips softly again and moved out of his arms to begin cleaning up the icing from the floor.

The boys smiled as they walked into the dorms to smell fresh baked goods, Chan noticed the new decorations so he knew something must have happened to the olds ones.

"Changbin-" He stopped himself from yelling when he noticed you and Chanbin curled up on the sofa together, both of you covered in different coloured icing and sleeping soundly. Chan held up his hands to tell the boys to be quiet as he pointed at you both,

"Changbin and Y/n? Who would have thought?" He chuckled watching as Changbin wrapped his arm around you protectively in his sleep, snuggling his head into your neck.

"I did, Lix you owe me food for a week." Seungmin laughed looking at Felix who was now glaring at the pair of you asleep, he'd bet that you both secretly hated each other not loved one another.

"We'll leave them to sleep, game night in our room?" Felix questioned looking at Jeongin and Hyunjin to see if they would agree,

"Sounds good," Minho agreed, snapping a few pictures as he walked past you and Changbin, he could use them for blackmail at a later date if he ever needed it.

Happy birthday @taestannie !!! @missmxqn @changbinswifu @oosnapitskat @peachyhan

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ilkkawhat · 3 years

Note

"How long have you had this planned?" "Since the moment I fell in love with you."

(For MacDalton)

[two things: one, this is like the first time I've written them in over three months so I apologize if I'm a bit rusty and two: I just straight up invented a new music venue for the sake of plot. I hope you enjoy Nade!!!]

If there’s one thing Jack’s learned in all of his years of knowing Angus Macgyver, it’s that for certain anniversaries; be it birthdays, deathdays, randomly constituted holidays mostly created on Jack’s behalf such as Bruce Willis’ birthday or the day Die Hard premiered in theaters, it’s that Mac is very...picky when it comes to his sentiments.

He loves a good party, sure, but doesn’t necessarily enjoy birthdays—at least his own, because he still always puts forth effort for others’ to ensure they have a good time.

He believes in Santa Claus, with what he thinks is irrefutable scientific proof, but doesn't believe in the other innocent childish entities such as the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny, agreeing with Jack that the Tooth Fairy is nothing more than a unwanted home invader in the form of a lying parent and the Easter Bunny is just downright made to terrify children with mall photos.

Hell, he at times even downplays the importance of Cairo Day, willing to work instead of lazing around the deck with a six pack and bags of takeout delivered by Jack himself—and while there really was an emergency this time around that left both of them bruised and battered and shaken with the sight of a gutshot Bozer, it ended up being the perfectly bided time for something he’s had planned for, well...for a long while, now.

That, and he’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone, embarking on a road trip to find a long lost father that he already knew Jack would join him on before he even said a single word, and in turn take Jack on a trip he never quite expected to have. One without any hiccups, not even an improvisation. Perfectly planned and tailored to the man he both owes his life to, and wants to devote his life to.

He asks Jack to take a pit stop on their cross-country road trip—immediately dispelling Jack’s insistence of hitting up the casinos in Vegas with teasing argument that he’d lose all of their money for food and gas no matter how many times Jack explains that he knows the “system,” but once their banter fades back into the comfortable silence, he directs Jack past the state of Nevada and into the southerner’s own home state—the Lonestar state.

“Texas? You really think Daddy Mac might be hiding in a hole in Texas?”

Mac shrugs coyly and Jack grins.

“Don’t matter anyhow, been wantin’ to take you back down here anyway. Mama’s missed having a scrawny kid to cook for,” Jack teases with a wink.

“Well good, cause we gotta swing by your casa and pick somethin’ up real quick,” Mac puts on a faithful imitation of the Texan’s accent, and Jack beams.

“Going native, huh, hoss? What do we gotta pick up?”

“Your guitar.”

“My guitar?” Jack’s eyes narrow behind the large yellow lens of his aviators and gives up trying to ask why because Mac keeps his lips sealed.

They just keep driving instead, down a long country road with the appropriate tunes to accompany this feeling; Mac’s hair flowing in the wind, Jack casually driving with one hand on the wheel and the other on Mac’s knee, a wide grin on both of their faces as they watch the sun set and the beautiful unseen stars in the sky rise out to greet them.

And a robot in the backseat, but he’s smart enough to know when to stay quiet and just enjoy the moment.

They make it to Jack’s home, an intended short visit turns into almost an entire day and while Mac is never the one to make excuses to leave, he tries to come up with as many as he can to make it to their destination on time.

Fortunately, he also got Mama Dalton and Jack’s sister in on it too, which does make it just a little easier and Mac promises that they’ll come back on the way home after nearly having to drag Jack out of the beloved ranch home.

He won’t be so grumpy once he sees what I got planned, Mac has to remind himself, because his light layer of deception does hurt him as much as it hurts Jack.

Another reason he wasn’t a fan of the “surprise” element of having a birthday. There’s an almost malicious level of teasing to making sure the birthday boy or girl doesn’t suspect a thing.

But he knows Jack, and knows he has to be suspecting something, evident by his sudden bitterness in their usually laid back banter.

“You’re just getting tired of driving is all,” Mac tries to reason with him.

“Me? I ain’t tired. You’re the one who’s tired, want me to tuck you in the back?” Jack sneers.

“How am I supposed to give you directions then?”

“I got Spanky back there—”

“Sparky.”

“Whatever. And where is it that we’re going anyway, Mac?”

“Up there,” Mac smiles when he sees the building in the distance, the GPS on his phone indicating they’re only mere minutes away.

“Wuh—No. No!” Jack gapes and Mac burst out in glee. “What are we doing at the Armadillo II?”

The Armadillo II, being a freshly renovated bar and music hall was built as an homage to the Amradillo World Headquarters, which Jack often talked about having gone to as a young kid, wishing it had lasted longer before being turned into an office building—something he often compared to the transition of childhood to adulthood itself.

“Beer and music, what else would you do?”

“Yeah, but I mean, how does this relate to…”

“It doesn’t. It’s just for you. For us,” Mac grips Jack’s hand and gently kisses him on the cheek. “Making up for Cairo Day.”

“Aw, gee, Mac,” Jack’s eyes are glistening, his teeth shining under the bright moonlight in the brightest smile. “You shouldn’t have!”

They’re greeted by a bouncer who holds up a hand to Jack’s chest as he was ready to strut his way in.

“Tickets,” the bouncer grunts.

“Ah, damn, don’t have ‘em on me, but I know the owner—” Jack starts to ramble, ready to sneak their way in but surprisingly, Mac has two ticket stubs.

“Where’d you get those?”

“From my pocket,” Mac says simply and pushes Jack into the building.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the concert will begin in fifteen minutes, please fill you drinks and take your seats!”

“Concert, what concert?” Jack shouts as he takes in the room, taking the chair closest to the door at the table that Mac directs them to.

“See that banner?” Mac nods up to the stage.

Willie Nelson.

Jack knew of course, that Willie Nelson would occasionally come out for a concert or two, usually to fundraise for his acts of activism—and even if he couldn’t attend he’d always try to send some money for the cause, but never, and he really means never in his right mind did he ever think this would happen.

“I love you, Mac,” Jack breathes, and the concert begins.

A few songs in, Willie slows down to a gentle strum on his guitar, and the lights dim to match an intimate, romantic atmosphere.

“Now, this next song is called ‘A Song for You,’ although, it is my honor to make a slight alteration to the title for one of our country’s greatest unsung heroes. A guy with a name that sounds like it’d be on the menu at Carl’s Junior came up to me on the street the other day—”

The crowd laughs at the name joke, and so does Mac but Jack’s jaw is hung open, no sound coming out which makes Mac laugh even harder because he knows it’s all coming together.

“He told me his story, their story and well, now it’s my turn to tell y’all that story too. This here is a song for you, Jack Dalton.”

“No. Fucking. Way!” Jack breathlessly gasps, his fingers shaking, his eyes watery and red. Mac puts his hand on Jack’s knee, and Jack sandwiches it with his own. It’s not until the song is over that he’s able to speak again, wiping the tears from his eyes as the crowd applauds.

“When the hell didja manage to talk to Willie Nelson?”

“On my way back from Siberia. Made a pit stop.”

“And now, it’s my greatest pleasure to welcome onto the stage, the man himself—”

“Mac…” Jack starts slapping, clawing at Mac is if to bring him back to life because this sure as hell feels like he’s died and gone to heaven—though he knows, and Mac knows, that will never happen.

Jack Dalton will never die.

And even if he did, he’d never go into that light without Mac by his side, and because of that, because they’re alive, they both feel unstoppable, almost youthfully immortal in that sense—if they were going to die, they would have kicked the bucket by now, surely.

“Come on up here, Jack!” Willie calls and Jack just cannot believe it, especially not when that same bouncer comes up behind him holding his own guitar that he had stashed away in the back of his GTO.

“How long have you been planning this?” Jack asks wildly as he rises from his seat.

“Since the moment I fell in love with you,” Mac replies, and rises with him, sending him to the stage after a good luck kiss. “Which was basically when you played Willie Nelson every day in the Sandbox.”

#nade2308 #macdalton #macgyver fic #angus macgyver #jack dalton #mk.fic #i even went and rewatched some bits to make sure i got their voices right #i miss jack so much #mk.op #i also never thought i'd write mac fic again so this was a pleasant surprise for me too

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toujoursmiraculous · 3 years

Text

Thoughts and Reaction to WISHMAKER

Oh I'm so excited about this one! Marinette's little soft looks she gives Adrien in recent episodes before snapping herself out of it is adorable. Not overwhelming, just nice. Poor Adrien doesn't know what he wants to do. But the thing that hurts me most (probably because I was always in the same position he is in, so understand more than hurt from it) is the fact he thinks that with Ladybug adding more people to the team, he won't be needed and thus won't be Chat Noir anymore. OOOF it hurts! Poor Adrien doesn't realize that if Ladybug didn't give these Miraculous out, Shadow Moth would've gotten their Miraculous from them a long time ago. I rewatched all episodes out now in chronological order, and it's so obvious she cares about him and could not be able to do what she does without him. What needs to happen is for her to not only tell him that, but express it somehow for him to believe it.

"Come on, Plagg. It's time to start thinking about our future." OUR future. He's including Plagg in that future. Good! I definitely understand what this episode is trying to get across about jobs and careers, but a majority of people can't and never end up doing a job or career they love and gives meaning. Some struggle just to find something they can do with their circumstances, much less something that'd make them happy. A very good message though to encourage young kids to look into many interests and try to find what you enjoy to life to end up doing that makes an impact on the world to spread the positivity and happiness. Hey hey hey Alec, how dare you go after Andre the Ice Cream Maker?! But good on him for not letting it affect him at all, he's doing what he loves so the criticism doesn't matter. "Pistachio and pecan for the clear-sighted young man!" "Who? What young man?" "Hello Marinette." I love Luka so much and Andrew's voice is so smooth. x3 I've wanted to learn the violin for years, I have one, but have never been able to do much with it. Luka having and playing his violin makes me incredibly happy (and adore him even more). "Whoa. You definitely have a gift for finding the right words at the right time." "Adrien." "Ah, well, most of the time." LOL But this entire scene. Luka saying you haven't told him about your feelings have you, her noticing he's sad, and Luka being like let's go talk to him and help him then! Just. AWWW! Poor Adrien has so much pressure to find something he wants to do or his dad will make him do what he wants instead. That's going to make it even harder for him to find something... I remember a spoiler from a long time ago, of Adrien baking with Marinette. What if he finds he loves it when that happens, and it's what he wants to do? :o Ahahahaha when Luka goes and sits next to Adrien, Adrien looks up at Marinette expectantly to sit down too. Probably thought by him. but she went the safe route and went next to Luka. xD Adrien, thinking he knew what Luka and Marinette want to do. Luka knows what he wants but it isn't what Adrien or the rest of us thought. Marinette thought she knew but now she's not sure at all. So all three are kind of confused and it's complicated. Life's complicated. Have you noticed, this is the most honest Marinette and Adrien have ever been about something so deep and personal to them? And they're able to do it around each other. Because Luka's there. He's like their emotional guide to help bring them closer and I love it. "Nothing, my mind is empty!" "I'm completely lost!" - Marinette and Adrien say together. Dang. When Luka explains Marinette and Adrien's "inner music" that felt like the most deep and personal scene this show has ever had. "You two will eventually find what's already in front of you," he says before he knew. As they look at each other. Oh lovely foreshadowing moment here. "But you can't hear it clearly, just let the melody flow." In other words, let things happen as they should. Don't force anything. If it feels right to do something, do it. If it doesn't, don't. Wow that violin is so beautiful. Adrien and Marinette's reactions in

sync, the surprise at the tune, the contentedness, and wordlessly looking at each other before getting up and sitting closer. Such a beautiful scene, this has me in awe honestly. "I've wasted my life!" oh I'm sure that hit hard with some of us older viewers. :c I have trouble sometimes not thinking this way, but there's always still time to change how things are. I love that everyone's dreams are either sweet and positive or just plain silly. Like CrocoJagged.

Hey, hi there, son! I absolutely lost it LOL this was brilliant! And the way he runs away on his hind legs it's too much XD "Hey Adrien, go hide behind that tree!" and then he drags Marinette along to hide her. So funny he's the one taking control in this situation. He's really shown his superhero potential in this and Optigami, even when not suited up. oooh Marinette wasn't where he brought her. That was sus. "HEEEELP I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SWIM!" "If we get hit, we'll reveal our secret identities!" "What do you mean, m'lady?" "When I was six I wanted to be the Knitting Fairy, and the Knitting Fairy didn't wear a mask!" The fact she's distracted and Chat Noir had to be paying attention to pull her to safety was such a Ladybug move. What do you mean you're not needed, Chat?! Obviously you are! Also she's giving you information about herself! LISTEN. She never used to and doesn't have to tell you these things, she's choosing to! And she even asked about you and your childhood! "You must have just forgotten!" or didn't have one. I honestly didn't have a dream as a kid, either. I don't know, I never wanted to grow up and be anything in particular that I thought I could do. I didn't have wishes of things I wanted to do for fun much either. I don't know why exactly, but I had a dad that's enough like Gabriel so maybe that's why. (My sister proceeded to tease me about being a sentimonster, since there's that "Adrien's a sentimonster" theory going around). "But Dad, crocodiles know how to swim..." "I didn't when I was a kid!" THIS SCENE XDD I love it! "If Chat Noir and I get hit, you must come back to this exact moment." Yeah it was at that point my suspicions of Luka finding out about them both seemed to be very likely to happen. "Nobody can know about our secret identities." At this point I was going omg omg omg omg the entire time lol The fact that Adrien would decide to have his identity revealed so he could learn more about himself to help him in the future. o.o This poor boy! And here's Luka finding out about Marinette being Ladybug! The dramatic zoom in! Viperion goes "Marinette?!" literally with Chat less than a foot away and he doesn't even budge. He's really that sad he's not even paying attention to what's going on Dx Okay, Ladybug calling on her Lucky Charm just to have the plushie squeak in her hand got me lol "My childhood dream is being what my parents wanted me to be!" Adrien seems happy. And he's himself, it looks like, so I don't know if we just got it cut off short or if he is exactly what his parents wanted him to be, so he's happy knowing that information?

This back and forth between a serious moment and a hilarious one! Shadow Moth's horrified Adrien's Chat Noir lolol not even the same kind of reaction that was in Chat Blanc when he found out . Okay but back to Luka. I think he was much too far away to hear what Adrien was actually saying, but he can see that it's Adrien standing where Chat Noir was.

He sees Adrien's where Chat Noir was.

The realization that Chat Noir is Adrien.

Understanding exactly what it means for Marinette to be Ladybug and Adrien to be Chat Noir. It's interesting how the people of Paris were able to still have jobs that was as close to their childhood dreams as possible. The man that wanted to be Santa makes toys. Mr. Banana wanted to be a cucumber and while he's not one, he wears a Banana suit every day. Jagged wanted to be a crocodile so the closest he could get was to have one as a pet. Marinette wanted to be the Knitting Fairy and look at all she can knit and sew! Alec: "When I was a kid, I just wanted people to be happy!" so sad that his bullying made him want to make others miserable instead. But it's nice that he wants to start now trying to make others smile and be happy c: "Sorry Alec, but when you're a superhero, even your dreams have to remain a secret." But she told Chat Noir hers. If that's not her going in the direction of outright telling him who she is....! Please let Luka be the one to help Ladybug with Chat Noir and Adrien with Marinette. Please. They need it. They have to have Ladybug realize her feelings for Chat and be willing to tell him everything. And they need Adrien to open his eyes and realize his feelings for Marinette. Once those things happen, they'll be okay. Except Adrien still doesn't know what his dream is because that was taken away by Second Chance. Personally, I think his dream of wanting what his parents wanted him to be, is what he already is. He just doesn't know it. As for his future, that can be up to him to start finding! "Thanks to you, our secret identities were persevered and nobody discovered who Chat Noir and I really are..... uh, not even you, right?" "Not even me. Luckily Wishmaker never hit you or Chat Noir." LIES Funny that he was "Truth" before, but now he's spitting lies. HOWEVER don't worry, I understand very much why he's lying and with the way Marinette is, this would be something she'd worry about and obsess over and Luka doesn't want that for her. He knows he can handle it, and she'll find out about it later when she's meant to. I just think it's ironic and funny lol And ooooof the way Luka's face fell after she left. Poor bb. "It was nothing, Marinette. You know you can always count on me." Luka's going to be Marinette and Adrien's best friend in a way that Nino and Alya just can't be. I can feel it. "We're all okay. Thanks to Ladybug and Chat Noir."

Oh. Oh you dorks! It's like they somehow know deep down they're Ladybug and Chat Noir with that look at that line. They're looking at each other like they know to some extent... I'm sure nothing happened in an episode we have yet to see but, it feels a bit weird, don't you think? "I may not remember my childhood dreams, but that's okay! It's time to focus on the future and find my inner music, like Luka said!" AWWW good for you my precious sunshine boy! Keep being you. Also Adrien's disturbed look at Plagg killed me again.

Marinette: "I'll do it all! .... I'll be Luka's best friend and I'll love Adrien!" Yeah see, that's it! You guys are best as best friends, and Luka will one day find someone else and he'll be happy to have you as his best friend when that time comes too. As far as all the other stuff, that sounds very busy and exhausting, but if it makes her happy! "How can you love other people if you don't love yourself?" Oh dang, that's such a good line to have put in this show honestly! Nicely done. So this is definitely one of if not my favorite episode. Chat Blanc's been my favorite but this is at least up there with it! There's so much to take from this episode, and so much that can come from this episode's events that I'm both extremely excited and scared to find out what happens next.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #ml spoilers #ml season 4 spoilers #ml spoilers season 4 #wishmaker spoilers #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #ladybug #viperion #thoughts and reaction to wishmaker #toujoursmiraculous thoughts and reaction

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herstarburststories · 3 years

Text

Merry... Birthday?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: You love christmas, but Dean doesn’t. Yet, he might make an exception for your birthday this year.

A/N: This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr ‘s secret fic exchange. My secret Santa was @katymacsupernatural. Hey, honey! I hope you enjoy this and happy birthday! You deserve double presents, so here’s mine. All mistakes are mine!

Divider by @talesmaniac89 !

You loved Christmas.

It was probably a nostalgic longing for your long gone urban life. Just in the same way you’d still catch yourself looking through the news for election results or feel your stomach twist if you didn’t eat homemade food at least twice a week. You were dead to the government and certainly spent more on the road than in a home. Besides, you had met up with God enough times to know him. All the encounters and screaming and unapologetic abandonment should make you want to throw any baby Jesus against a wall or even climb on a Christmas tree just to shout about all the hoaxes so perfectly molded in patterns through our brains like braids.

Yet, something about you loved christmas.

The pretty lights always shining, it didn’t matter where you go. For once, all the city-- everything would be entirely made of light. Their incandescent glow always companishing each person, either it was in an once treacherous alley or only to make the kids' grin bigger as they watched them among the busy streets with wide eyed gazes. The confusion in the kitchen that often ended up with huffs bursting into chuckles between the smell of meals that were too much and would make a room for leftovers for the rest of the week. How everything seemed to be made only of happiness, and nothing could ever cut through those water; all the knives were suddenly swords for kids to play and no white gun. In Christmas, a house became a kingdom for every heart. Everything was good and felt through the skin to the bone, like a single glimpse, a hidden day of what would be paradise.

That was how you were raised, at least. The Winchesters didn’t share the same mindset, no. While you grew up with decorating the tree, they were hiding bodies in the dim light. Leftovers were all through their whole year, and Christmas was described as good or not with one single criteria: snow streets. They had to take one? Annoying date. They didn’t and there was eggnog? Bearable Jesus’s birthday.

Yet, you attempted to make the bunker the more festive possible: buying a bunch of christmas lights, cookies’ ingredients and even a small nativity scene. Your attempts to enjoy the date’s niciities ended up with Sam breaking his arm after crashing on the ground because you insisted on him putting the lights in a place higher than his age, not to mention the burned cookies that looked more like tiny monsters than gingerbread men.

Your parents used to make this look so much easier.

Although the youngest Winchester understood a little more about the concept of holidays, a believer in the good until the very end, his brother didn’t share the idea. You couldn’t say you were surprised. Dean just had two barely normal christmas in his life: one when he was dying and one with Lisa and Ben. Both situations made it to his heart only to shatter from the inside.

‘’Baby Jesus?’’ Dean snorted, shaking his head at the sight of you adjusting the weird little dolls in the nativity. He placed another ruined cook in his mouth, speaking with his mouth full next: ‘’We have the son of Lucifer, guess that counts.’’

‘’Don’t say that once Jack gets home.’’ You rolled your eyes, turning to face the oldest Winchester with your hands on your hips. How could he eat that? You couldn’t even make it a bite and Sam only had half of those. ‘’And stop eating those. They are burned.’’

‘’I’ve had worse.’’ He remarked, adding another cookie to his mouth. You grimaced, wondering for a brief moment how your boyfriend could be simultaneously the guy who saved the world and a man with the taste of a five years old.

‘’Yeah. But I’m the one who has to hear you whining about your bellyache later.’’

‘’I don’t whine--’’ You arched your eyebrows at his statement, making Dean huff in agreement. ‘’That was once and because of Sam’s weird ass vegan bacon.’’

‘’You acted like you were dying.’’

‘’My tongue was!’’

‘’So get this.’’ Sam’s voice interrupted your childish argument, catching the attention of both hunters like a shiny object did to a cat. ‘’Apparently we got an earlier christmas gift.’’

‘’What is it?’’ You asked, approaching the table.

‘’Three teenagers disappeared in the forest, all personal objects left behind.’’ Sam explained as Dean scratched out his neck to glance at his brother’s computer screen. Nothing like a case in Colorado. ‘’The authorities think it’s a serial killer. But one of the girls, Kayla Wodson, said she saw a weird, skinny giant take her friends.’’

‘’Ho ho ho and three bodies.’’ Dean clapped his hands together with a wry curve of lips. ‘’Alright. Let’s hit the road-- Wait, wait, wait. Where do you think you are going?’’

You were standing beside Dean while Sam raised to his feet, ready to pack his bags. Dean, nonetheless, was quicker than his brother, soon putting himself in front of Sammy; hands protectively standing in front of the youngest’s chest to keep him from moving any further.

He shook his head with a scoff. ‘’Dude, come on.’’

‘’Not happening, Sammy. You got a broken arm.’’ You mumbled a sorry along Dean’s big brother speech, to which Sam replied with a comprehensive smile. ‘’Y/N and I take care of it.’’

‘’He’s right. Must be the first time in his life, but he is.’’ Dean turned his head, furrowing his eyebrows at you ‘’Don’t worry. It’s just a wendigo anyway. ‘’

‘’Okay. Just…’’

‘’Don’t forget the fireblazer. As if your brother would miss an opportunity to use it.’’ You scrunched up your noise, causing a chortle out of Sam while Dean commented something about grabbing the specific instrument and walked away. ‘’Maybe you could call Eileen. Ask her to help you to back some christmas cookies.’’

Sammy shook his head at your wiggling brows. ‘’That doesn’t sound as sexy for me as it does for you.’’

Dean Winchester was good with numbers.

Not the urban numerical sense of the deal, of course. He almost didn’t make it in sixth grade with useless geometry and all that, and he still used his fingers to count when he had to deal with an equation. No, his good and quick way with numbers was easier, intrinsic to his head.

How many years since mom died? Seventeen. How many people did he have to save? All of them. How many years had he left? Less than he once owned.

Hunter math was simpler, and was all he really needed since he was four years old, running from the fire with his baby brother in his arms-- which brought him to the second section of his particular geometry: birthdays and death anniversaries. Dean never, ever forgot any special date. Those were his own holidays, the only worth celebrating and remembering. His wishes, grief, and cherishment were reserved for the people he loved, not some celestial assholes who saw his life like a book.

Therefore, his mind went on a golden rush for your day as soon as the Wendigo hunt took more than you both expected. You wouldn't be able to make it home before your birthday, which would be ending shortly, a matter of two or three hours. His inner engineers were useful tonight, in his vision, useful enough to make those sappy movies jealous. While you were washing some guts and leaves away, Dean went to the nearest convenience store. His long arms nesting a bunch of stuff he never dared to touch in years. The cashier with drowsy eyes and escarlet Santa hat seemed bored with his shopping, probably because she saw an uncountable amount of people buying the same things over and over. He couldn’t blame her for the suburban exhaustion. If anything, it was a small comfort for his war orbs to see and be a part of a scene so mundane.

He hustled back to the dive motel room, singing in relief to himself once he stepped in and heard you singing Christmas Tree Farm while the water rushed in. He grimaced at himself for recognizing that Taylor Swift song. How couldn’t he? That woman was 80% of all you heard everyday. Man, he was whipped.

Tilting his head back in reality, he started organizing in clumsy manners of putting everything in place for you. His bruised hands touching so carefully the fragile ornaments to make the motel room with grubby walls and weird black stan on the floor that only seemed to grow a little more like you.

You, the woman who put up with him, who laughed at his stupid jokes, and who watched Scooby Doo, all snuggled up to him every friday. You, the woman who switched from AC/DC to Taylor Swift and then Eric Clapton. You, the one who understood his job and helped him to wash off some of the blood on his hand and never got scared of how red the water could get. You, the girl who rolled her eyes at his first attempt of flirting and now stole his french fries and kissed his lips as if he was worth being delicate with. You, his breathing, his true holiday, his only act of faith besides Sammy.

Dean pressed his teeth against his bottom lip, looking up and down his little manual work. Part of him said it was ridiculous, he surely would make a lot of fun of Sam if he did that to a chick. Yet, mostly he was proud. He wanted you to like it. It wasn’t even near to what you deserved, but it was a piece of it. It was what the Winchester could give you, and that would be hopefully, enough.

While Dean was caught in the crossroad of judging and admiring his surprise, you left the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and lips mumbling Cocaine. Your feet glued to the ground once you witnessed what was in front of you: the room was decorated with christmas lights, a tiny plastic tree on the table, right beside a pie with candle on the top and two cup of what smelled like hot cocoa.

‘’Dean…’’ Your tender tone brought him back from his traineck thoughts as he turned around to glance at you. You chortled in astonishment as he raised his eyes and said surprise! ‘’What’s this?’’

‘’Well, it’s your birthday.’’ He shrugged, scooting closer to you with a smirk. Dean smoothly wrapped his arms around your waist, yours instantly resting around his neck. ‘’In my defense, they just had christmas stuff. Blame your parents for having you close to Jesus’ special day.’’

‘’Christmas stuff include pie and not cake?’’ Your brows knitted together, a heartwarming smile on your lips as you watched his expression marked by multicolored little lights. He smelled like something was a blaze, and you knew that was for standing too close to the candle and not for burning a body this time. Small changes.

He scoffed humorously. ‘’You like pie better anyway.’’ He nodded at the carnival-like situation around you two. Dean Winchester wasn’t the kind of man who got insecure, but you could catch a perk of brand nervous hesitation as his green eyes shot you an anxious glance. ‘’Did you like it?’’

‘’I loved it.’’ You pulled cheeks dimpled with joy that was kissed by Dean’s own smiling lips. The kiss was so gentle, it was his own palpable light hearted emotion. You being happy in his arms. It had been so long since he felt he could be enough, he could make someone happy. But you were right there. As you pulled away, another short kiss was given between playful words: ‘’That’s what I call a christmas miracle.’’

‘’Shush.’’ He leaned in and pecked your lips. As Dean pulled back, he couldn’t help but watch around with the pride of Hubris. His glance went back to you, a lopsided grin on his face. God, you loved that smile. You loved that man. ‘’So I added some whiskey to the hot cocoa. We could drink some, eat the pie, and see if those lights make a good improvise rope. What do you tell me?’’

All you could do was kiss him again.

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livesincerely · 3 years

Note

Keepsakes from Jack’s POV? (That fic broke my heart and fixed it all at once. Absolutely beautiful!!)

trinkets

Also on Ao3. Davey’s pov here.

00000

Even after all the trouble he went to getting the address, Jack almost decides not to go. Les’ text message stares up at him accusingly when he double checks his phone, Davey’s new apartment number listed with the blunt instruction, ‘Don’t fuck this up.’

Easy for him to say. Jack’s still not sure how things fell apart in the first place.

He rings the doorbell, his stomach rolling with nerves, and for one terrible second he thinks that maybe no one’s home, or even worse, that maybe that Davey just won’t answer for him.

But the door creaks open.

“Jack,” Davey says, more of a statement than a question, his eyes wide with shock.

Jack’s heart swirls and swoops in his chest at the sight of him. Davey looks just the same as he did when they last saw each other, just the way he always looks in Jack’s dreams and his nightmares—long and lean, with big blue eyes made even brighter by the lush lashes that frame them.

“Hi, Davey,” Jack says, shoving his hands into his pockets so he doesn’t drag Davey into a desperate embrace.

“You...” Davey pauses, visibly uncertain, his fingers clenched in a death grip around his doorframe. “What are you doing here?”

“I got the address from Les,” Jack explains, and it sounds like such a flimsy excuse now that he’s saying it aloud. “I’m in town for the week visiting Ma and Charlie, thought I could swing by and see you for a sec.”

“Oh,” Davey says.

“So, uh, can I come in?” Jack asks, nervous.

“Oh, right,” Davey mutters, holding the door open wider and beckoning him forward. “Yeah, sure. Please, come in.”

It’s a nice apartment. Jack recognizes a lot of the furniture in the entryway and living room from when they were living together, and he spies a few picture frames hanging in the hallway that he’s pretty sure he picked out himself—the scattered reminders help something settle in his chest even as something else fizzes and buzzes behind his eyes.

“You moved out of the old place,” Jack can’t help but point out as he takes it all in; he’s been wondering about the change ever since he found out Davey moved.

“It was a bit too much for just one person,” Davey says quietly. “A smaller apartment is easier to keep up with.”

There’s a brief pause where that statement hangs in the air between them, heavy and awkward. Jack feels like an absolute heel—of course Davey wouldn’t be able to make rent on their old place by himself, and it’s not like there’d been space for a housemate. Of course he’d had to move.

Davey continues, “Can I get you anything? Soda or coffee or...?”

“Coffee would be great, actually,” Jack says, not really all that interested in a drink, but happy for an excuse to linger for a while. “But, uh, only if it won’t put ya out.”

“It’s no trouble,” Davey says, and Jack can’t tell if he’s being honest or just being polite. “Here, go ahead and sit down and I’ll fix you a cup.”

Jack settles down onto one of the stools at the island while Davey putters around the kitchen, taking a moment while Davey’s back is turned to just look at him.

He needs a haircut, Jack thinks, noting the way Davey’s fringe falls into his eyes as he fiddles with the coffee maker—just long enough now that it’s starting to curl up at the ends, making him look even softer then he usually does—then sort of hating that he’s noticed.

He shouldn’t care. He knows he shouldn’t.

But he does.

“So, how have you been?” Davey asks, head ducked down to watch the coffee brew. “How’s Santa Fe been treating you?”

“‘S good,” Jack says, talking out his ass, too focused on the motion of Davey’s fingers as he drums them against the countertops, on the delicate line of his wrists peeking out from under his shirt sleeves, to pay attention to what he’s saying. “It’s great, it’s got everything: clear skies, gorgeous sunsets. If you go out to the desert at the right time of day the views are unreal. So, uh, life’s pretty good.”

Davey still doesn’t turn toward him, still won’t lift his head. It’s making something go uncomfortably tight in Jack’s chest, his pulse beating a few ticks faster in his ears.

“And work’s going well?”

“Real well,” Jack tells the back of Davey’s head, and as he watches, Davey’s shoulders stiffen. “Now that I’ve been there a while they’re startin’ to give me my own projects to work on, which is great. Nerve racking, and I’m constantly terrified that I’m gonna fuck it all up, but great. Honestly, the studio space and the stipend I get for supplies on its own is pretty incredible, let alone all the experience and connections I’m getting too. So, yeah, things are goin’ well.”

“That’s great, Jack,” Davey says, and he actually sounds like he means it, but he still won’t meet Jack’s eyes. It’s kinda starting to piss him off. “I’m glad things are working out for you.”

“Couldn’t ask for much more,” Jack says, but he’s not quite able to mask the hint of bitterness that creeps into his tone—the one thing he’d ask for is standing right in front of him, but he might as well be on Mars for how vast the distance between them feels.

It’s just Jack’s luck that this is the moment when Davey finally, finally looks at him. It’s only a brief glance in his direction before his gaze falls away again, but even just that almost feels like too much: those eyes are as gorgeous as ever, and vividly, brilliantly blue.

Jack’s breath hitches in his throat—if he wasn’t still hopelessly, haplessly in love with Davey, he’s pretty sure that would’ve caused him to fall all over again. But he isn’t so distracted that he doesn’t notice the wealth of emotion swirling in that gaze: something vulnerable and pained tucked beneath Davey’s calm facade.

“How’re you doin’, Davey?” he asks carefully.

“Good,” Davey says to the coffee maker. “I’ve been good.”

“Yeah?” Jack presses, watching him closely. “Anythin’ interestin’ goin’ on?”

“Just the same old, same old,” Davey says, which doesn’t sound like a lie, but isn’t really an answer. “Nothing new to tell, honestly.”

“Nothing at all?” Jack says, relieved and annoyed all at once at this response, but trying to sound like he doesn’t care as much as he does. This is the best answer he could’ve hoped for, probably—he’s honestly not sure what he would’ve done if Davey started talking about how wonderful his life has been without Jack in it. He tries, “Did you ever end up gettin’ that transfer you wanted?”

Davey crosses his arms across his chest. “I, uh, rescinded the request after you— after everything,” he explains softly. “There wasn’t really a need, and it was easier to just stay at my old branch.”

“Oh,” Jack says.

The silence is punctuated by the drip drip drip of the coffee finishing up. Davey pulls a couple of mugs out of one of the cabinets and fixes them both a cup.

“Here you go,” Davey says, passing him a mug.

Jack goes to take a sip, the freezes midway through the motion, heart seizing in his chest as he realizes what he’s holding.

The pottery place had been his attempt at a unique, memorable first date, figuring that he might as well weigh the dice in his favor by going with something artsy. He’d been so fucking nervous the entire week leading up to it, had wanted so badly to impress the beautiful, brilliant boy that had just transferred in, because he’s been in love with Davey almost since the moment they met and it’s not looking like that’s gonna stop any time soon.

So the fact that Davey’s throwing that back in his face, taunting him with the reminder of how something so wonderful has since shattered to pieces... Jack’s whole body tenses up, fury sparking hot in his stomach.

“What the fuck, Davey?” he spits out. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Davey has the fucking gall to look startled, maybe even a little hurt.

“Why do you still have this?” Jack demands, slamming the mug down so hard that some of the contents spill out, coffee pooling on the counter. “Why would you keep—?”

“Why wouldn’t I keep it?” Davey asks, like he honestly doesn’t see what the big deal is. “It’s mine, isn’t it?”

And that is just... Jack almost wants to laugh, except he thinks he’s never heard anything less funny in his life.

“Oh, so that’s where you draw the line, huh?” Jack says, voice tight with anger. “That’s how it is? Knick knacks, keepsakes, sure, those you’ll keep around, but the stuff that’s actually worth having? That’s actually worth fighting for? You can just let all that go without ever sayin’ a fuckin’ word otherwise because who gives a shit—”

Davey’s expression twists.

“Right, because you were so fucking eager to stay?” he asks with a derisive scoff. “Give me a break, Jack, you couldn’t wait to leave. Just fucked off to the other side of the country and left me here to pick up the pieces—”

“You were all but pushing me out the fucking door!” Jack accuses, throwing his hands up. “‘It’s a wonderful opportunity, Jackie,’ ‘You’d be an idiot not to take it, Jackie,’ ‘It’s what you’ve always dreamed of, Jackie!’ What a load of horseshit—”

“Oh, so it’s my fault for being supportive?’ Davey asks, incredulous—as if Jack’s the one that’s in the wrong here. “Are you serious?”

“I’m just sayin’, you weren’t exactly bent outta shape at the thought of me leavin’,” Jack says, frigid, because if he lets himself think about it too much, if he lets himself remember the gaping hole that had formed in his chest when he’d realized that loves Davey more than Davey loved him, he thinks he might shatter completely. “Didn’t seem to bother you one fuckin’ bit. Probably relieved to finally have an excuse to get rid of me—”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Davey hisses, and he strides forward until they’re standing nearly chest to chest—the closest they’ve been in almost a year. “I’ve missed you like you wouldn’t believe, missed you every single goddamn second of the last eight months, don’t think for a moment that I didn’t, you fucking asshole.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jack bites out, not believing this for a second. “If you missed me so fucking much, then why’d we break up?”

“Because you were moving to Santa Fe!” Davey yells back. “You were leaving, Jackie! What else was I supposed to do, except let you go and try my best to be happy for you?”

Jackie. It sounds different coming out of Davey’s mouth. Something prickles at Jack’s eyes, and the threat of tears almost makes him angrier.

“If you really wanted me to be happy,” Jack growls, “you would’ve come with me.”

“You didn’t ask me to come with you!” Davey shouts.

“And you didn’t ask me to stay!”

“Ask you to stay? Ask you to stay?” Davey says, and his eyes are wild, burning and blazing as he stares Jack down. “Of course I didn’t fucking ask you to stay, I was never going to ask you to stay! It was Santa Fe, it was all you ever fucking talked about, it was your dream, Jack! It was everything that you wanted! I would never even suggest that you give that up, God, what kind of shit-ass person do you think I am, that you thought I would ever, ever try to stand between you and Santa Fe when I know how important it is to you—?”

“I’m not fucking hearing this,” Jack says, shaking his head, because he isn’t. He can’t be. Because it sounds like Davey is saying... Like he’s telling him that... “I am not fucking hearing this. I— You—“

Jack turns on his heel and storms out of Davey’s apartment, slamming the door behind him as he goes. He only gets a few steps down the hallway before his knees give out from underneath him, leaving him staggering into the nearest wall, his breaths coming in ragged pants.

Davey.

It’s like it’s seared into the space behind his eyes, woven right between his heartstrings—the look on Davey’s face, the sound of Davey’s voice, the shape and color of Davey’s eyes.

Davey. Always, always Davey

Jack loves him. It’s not like it’s a surprise, but then, Jack’s always known that.

Maybe Davey hadn’t known. Maybe Davey hadn’t known that there’s nothing on this earth that Jack loves more than him, maybe he hadn’t realized how utterly, impossibly, eternally in love with him Jack is.

Maybe Jack needs to tell him.

When he enters the apartment again he finds Davey right where he left him, and Jack can’t help but be reminded of the last time they parted, when Jack left for Santa Fe all those months ago. But this is the part he hadn’t seen back then, the part that Davey had hidden from him: he’d never been privy to the way Davey’s whole body can wilt in on itself when he’s heartbroken, had never witnessed the way Davey’s usually steady hands tremble when he’s holding back a sob.

Davey’s head jerks up as Jack steps back inside and his lips quiver when he shuts the door behind him.

His eyes are wet.

Jack steps forward, bunches his hands in the fabric of Davey shirt, and pulls him into a desperate, scorching kiss.

“I love you,” Jack says fiercely. “I love you. I loved you before I got the job offer, I loved you while I was searching for apartments and planning the move, I loved you every time I talked up Santa Fe to you, tryin’ to convince you to come with me any way I could think of. I loved you when we broke up, I loved you when I left, I loved you when I landed, and it’s been eight fucking months and I’m still so fucking in love with you—”

Davey kisses him this time, and the press of his mouth against his own, the tangle of his fingers in Jack’s hair as he tugs him closer, the taste and heat and feel of him—it’s like coming home.

“I love you too, Jackie,” Davey promises, and hearing the words finally soothes something deep down in Jack’s very being. He hadn’t thought he’d ever hear them again. “I love you and I’ve missed you so much—”

“I missed you,” Jack says, punctuating the declaration with another kiss. “You’re it for me Davey. There’s just you. And I… I can’t give this up again. Santa Fe ain’t worth nothin’ if you’re not there with me.”

“I thought that was what you wanted,” Davey murmurs, holding him tight. “I thought I had to let you go.”

Jack shakes his head.

“I wanted you to keep me,” he confesses—he’s never been brave enough to say it aloud before. “And I wanted to keep you too.”

“Then keep me,” Davey says, and it rings like a promise. “Keep me.”

00000

Tags! @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside @corbinthecowboy @stroopwafeldetective @lyydiiaak

#newsies #javid #jack kelly #davey jacobs #*editor's note #*the writing desk #*final cut #*ask #*ask game #different perspectives #this ended up being very long #and I stayed up wayyyy to long finishing it #but I’m really happy with it #😊

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coeurdastronaute · 3 years

Text

Christmas: Day 33

maybe possibly continue the thanksgiving/christmas of clarke and lexa with it being their second christmas together and they do their own thing and attend new years party or maybe do the new years right after the thanksgiving/christmas story

Day 32

Even with the sludge and the general slush that was the busy streets in the winter, the car crunched its way down familiar streets toward the opposite side of town, departing the high rises of the downtown skyline and instead running for the wide open grey sky, plump with snow and the promises of a very, very white Christmas. Dressed in its best holiday attire, the city was brimming with cheer; lights hung from every tree, ornaments from every street light, balconies were glistening with the vast array of different decoration choices, and most importantly, tiny snow men appeared in tiny yards and parks and playgrounds, waving away the old and welcoming that sense of joy that seemed to creep in despite the chill in the air.

The car was steaming, the heat pumping through the vents at a prodigious rate that made the inhabitants begin the slow process of taking off parts of their layers between stop lights and signs. Outside it was below freezing, but the cab of the vehicle was stifling in the way that only a car can be during the holidays, pumping in good spirits despite all else.

“Are you really nervous?”

“No… no. No, no,” Clarke shook her head as she put on the confident air she’d perfected throughout her life.

“You already know Anya,” Lexa promised, seeing through it instantly, knowing that she had to offer a few extra words of encouragement to make it real, to put some weight behind the faux demeanor. “You’ve known her longer than you’ve known me.”

“I work with her, but it’s not like we work together. We’re in vastly different departments. I don’t see her other than when we have dinner together.”

“We’ve been dating for nearly three years. You know her plenty.”

“I know. And I’m not nervous,” she shrugged.

Lexa reach across the middle and held her girlfriend’s hand, easing her into it. It wasn’t lost on the lawyer that her girlfriend was nervous to spend the holiday without her family, nor that she was always a little nervous around Anya. For Lexa, there were no other options. She had to make a good impression on the only sister, the only living family member. She dreaded the thought of having to impress just Clarke’s mother or father or friends. She understood the pressure.

“I’m excited we get to spend the holiday with my family this year,” Lexa decided to try a different tactic, attempting to lighten the mood. “It’s going to be great. And we can teach them how to make proper hot chocolate and such.”

“I’m excited, too.”

“Your mom wasn’t too hurt that I’ve stolen you for the holidays?”

Clarke pulled Lexa’s hand to kiss it before looking out the windows again as the snow flurry picked up once more.

“She understood. She was just excited we agreed to New Years with them.”

“I can’t believe she was okay with inviting Anya and the gang up for the party. It was very cool of her.”

“Well, you know Abby,” Clarke shrugged. “Always trying to be the hippest mom on the block. Plus, Dad really wanted to validate his transforming the shed to a guest house.”

“House is generous.”

“Don’t tell him that,” she chuckled and agreed. “He worked very hard.”

“I know,” Lexa grinned. “He sent me all kinds of updates. I think he was trying to separate us when we visit.”

“Fat chance.”

“We’re quiet, right?”

“Very,” Clarke nodded before pondering it a little more. She decided to get that thought of her head immediately.

“Well, I can safely say that Anya appreciated the gesture of including the whole family together, and they never get to go anywhere or go to adult parties. She’s probably more excited about that than about us coming for Christmas.”

“My mom loves having kids running around the house. It works out so well. Why haven’t we thought of it sooner?”

“I had to get you to date me for real, first.”

“Shut up,” Clarke rolled her eyes, pinching her girlfriend’s bicep. “It wasn’t that hard.”

“Mhm, keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m not having this fight with you again.”

“Yes dear,” Lexa smirked, lolling her head back toward the road as Clarke rolled her eyes once more and sighed, smiling through it despite herself.

The car made its way across town as the streetlights came on. All of the creatures that would have been stirring quieted. Little faces pushed themselves against the cold glass of the windows and searched the sky for a sight of the sleigh. Christmas Eve settled atop the world with a sense of impending joy and a crackling warmth that kept all of the houses nestled safely on their streets.

The intersection before her sister’s house, Lexa kissed her girlfriend’s knuckle and tucked her hand closer to herself, satisfied with her life and that she was someone who had many places to be for Christmas. A surge of love flushed itself through her system, and it went away just as unexpectedly, leaving behind a residue of warmth.

“I love you, you know?” she asked her girlfriend who hummed along with the Christmas music on the radio.

“Yeah, duh.”

With a contented smile, Lexa let her head rest against the seat in the car as the warmth blew at the snow that clung to her boots.

XXXXXXXXXX

Much like her own home for the holidays, the dining table at the Blake household was vibrant and alive, absolutely overflowing with bodies and hands and forks and delicious smelling food steaming at the windows and voices talking over each other to fill their plates and begin the sacred tradition of a Christmas Eve dinner.

“We do the big dinner tomorrow,” Anya promise as she finished making a plate for her youngest daughter who slapped at the high chair, full of mirth and excitement. “But Chinese has been a Christmas Eve tradition since we were kids.”

“This is absolutely better than anything I could have imagined,” Clarke promised, angling for a box of lo mein.

“Our mom burned an entire dinner in some fashion their first Christmas together,” Lexa explained, handing out egg rolls to her niece and nephew and girlfriend. “Before we were even born. And every year, my parents just kept ordering.”

“When I first got married, I debated the tradition.”

“But I insisted,” Bellamy grinned from the head of the table. “Because it meant we got to spend the entire day having fun instead of cooking.”

“And Lexa all but refused to eat anything else.”

“It’s a sacred tradition,” she shrugged, earning a look from her girlfriend. “I’ve been known to be stubborn from time to time.”

“I didn’t think I’d ever hear you admit it,” Clarke taunted.

“That’s your Christmas gift.”

“I wanted to cook this year, but believe it or not, Lexa insisted again that I not change anything for you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” she promised. “I can’t imagine a better dinner.”

“And after we get to watch Christmas movies,” Madi explained as she worked her fork around her plate, doing her best. She was the spitting image of Lexa, and Clarke felt that aching kind of twinge to see her girlfriend with the mini-versions of herself. “And eat cookies and leave some for Santa and we got carrots for the reindeer.”

“Oh wow. I better save room.”

“I always try,” Lexa shook her head. “But all we do is eat for the holidays. There’s never enough room.”

The frenzy of family slowed as everyone went about the arduous task of eating absolutely delicious food and savoring each other’s company. The baby made a mess, much to Lexa’s enjoyment, while the twins excitedly prattled on about their gifts and Santa and the movies and everything they wanted to do during their winter break.

Somewhere between all of it, Clarke found herself swept into Lexa’s family, beaming at how happy her girlfriend seemed to be, to be a part of such a moment, to have a certain pride in having someone to share it with. It was as intoxicating as the wine that Anya freely and eagerly shared.

The holidays at the Griffins were decidedly missing something in the form of tiny people who still had enough magic in them to appreciate the mystery of the time of year, and Clarke hadn’t thought to miss it until dinner on Christmas Eve.

Lexa gingerly added more to Clarke’s plate, sharing her order of chicken and explaining eagerly how it was the best of all time, pulling Clarke back from her reverie.All Clarke could do was smile and dig into the new traditions.

XXXXXXXXX

The noise came in the form of tiny feet pounding down the hallway, giggling and excitedly whispering past the room. Lexa shifted in her sleep, stretching slightly to tighten her grasp on her girlfriend. She enjoyed the warmth of the body beside her, she enjoyed her smell mingling with the familiar smell of her sister’s spare room, she even enjoyed the feeling of Clarke’s body relaxing into her own chest as she fought against waking. Lexa kissed bare neck and dug her nose into the shoulder of Clarke’s old flannel shirt. There was something wonderful to wake like that, and she knew it.

“Merry Christmas,” Clarke whispered, tugging Lexa’s arm impossibly closer.

“Merry Christmas, beautiful. Are you ready for presents?”

“You’re worse than the kids.”

“I never claimed any different. What’d you get me?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you want to know what I got you?” Lexa murmured, hand shifting slightly along her girlfriend’s stomach.

“Kind of,” Clarke grinned but kept her eyes shut, her hips moving slightly against Lexa’s lap.

The instant her fingertips dipped into sweatpants, the knock echoed against the door as the tiny feet made their way with great speed, back toward the Christmas tree and pile of presents.

“You’re the one who wants kids,” Clarke reminded her girlfriend as she rolled over to kiss her cheek, earning a huff as the warmth escaped the bed. “Come on. Let’s go see what Santa brought.”

“But… we have a tradition,” Lexa pouted, head hiding in a mess of hair and pillows and sheets.

“Sex on Christmas isn’t a tradition. It’s coincidence.”

“Come back to bed. I can give you a quick coincidence.”

Hopeful and smirking, she stretched across the bed to try to snag a loop in the robe Clarke put on before grasping only at air.

“Morning Lex, Clarke. Merry Christmas. The heathens are waiting for you to open presents,” Anya called, her voice disappearing as she went down the stairs. “I’m making coffee.”

“Looks like we have all new traditions this year,” Clarke teased, tugging a defeated girl out of the bed with a heave, though Lexa refused to make it easy. “I’ve been known to coincidence any time on Christmas though.”

“What a coincidence, me too,” Lexa grinned.

“Come on. Presents.”

“We’re staying home next year. I don’t care what anyone says.”

“Let me quote you on this in about ten months.”

“Shut up.”

XXXXXXXXXXX

The table was set, the candles lit, the plates perfectly ordered with properly placed silverware and fancy wine glasses. Despite the uproar of the kids playing with their toys and trails of wrapping paper throughout the house, the dining room ws expertly set and full of mirth and delicious smelling food. Gone were the flannel pajamas, and in its place were velvet dresses and ties, as everyone dressed up for the meal and friends arrived to partake, stretching the house at its seams with bodies and warmth.

The evening fell quickly, with the lights and candlelight glimmering amidst the voices and happiness of old friends and children itching their collars.

Clarke understood why Lexa said she liked Christmas Eve dinner the best with her family. It felt like a home in a different way than the giant, conventional feast of acquired family members. Christmas Eve, Clarke imagined, was what Lexa imagined her parents would have loved. Christmas was completely for them, their own developed tradition of a beautiful, dimly lit dinner with their closest friends, the found family that kept them alive for so long.

When dinner was called, Clarke found her seat beside her girlfriend and smiled before earning a kiss against her temple while Bellamy’s parents started the applause as Anya brought out the main course followed by some friends with sides.

“I’m going to grab the wine,” Lexa whispered after helping push in Clarke’s chair.

In just a few minutes, everyone was seated and waiting for the items to start passing, but Clarke noticed the absence of her girl. When she looked around, she caught Lexa leaning against the doorway, just watching, two bottles of wine in her hand. Unsure of how long she’d been there, Clarke watched Lexa watch the family, and she felt the warmth of the season, she felt the burning of her adoration, she fell in love.

When Lexa caught her eye, she straightened slightly before smiling quite sheepishly and offering a shrug. Clarke just gave her a wink before thanking Anya’s college roommate for passing the potatoes.

XXXXXXXXXXX

New Year’s was no different than Christmas at the ancestral Griffin household. The trees and lights remained up, festive for the final time of the year, while fancy tables and candles all around, the tables and the food and the people mingled about. It was a full house, with friends and family taking their time getting reacquainted.

From the moment Anya met Mr. and Mrs. Griffin, Lexa felt a warmth, a certain level of family that she couldn’t remember feeling in her entire life. She adored the Griffins. She loved spending time with Jake, as he fiddled in the garage and they escaped Clarke and her mother. Hell, Lexa even enjoyed helping Abby cook and chatting about the newest restaurants. And it sent her over the moon to see Clarke with Anya, so much that they even got coffee together and often saw each other more than Lexa saw her sister.

But during the New Year’s Eve party, all of the world’s combined. Anya was sitting in the living room with Clarke’s childhood best friend. Bellamy and Jake were manning the bar, willingly filling the rest with spirits.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Clarke whispered, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend’s waist, her chin on her shoulder.

“Just happy.”

“Normally you get chatty when you’re happy. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Lexa promised before kissing her girlfriend’s temple. “Just very, very, very happy.”

“So, do you want to go make out in the garage for like ten minutes or…”

“Can I steal her?” Raven interrupted, snagging Clarke’s arm.

They were gone before Lexa could argue.

Nervously, she toyed at the box in her pocket, rubbing the velvet between her fingers. She couldn’t concentrate on much else, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to form words. Every time she tried to remember, her mind went blank.

She refilled her glass of wine and earned a smile from Jake, amused and sympathetic. She watched Clarke and Raven moving through the crowd and felt the warmth and she was almost ready.

XXXXXXXXXX

“Why do we have to go outside?” Clarke shook her head, tugging on her coat as Raven put hers on as well. “It’s almost midnight, and I have a kiss to give. I’m all booked up.”

“I want to show you my new car before the fireworks anyway.”

“Did they add some budget to the fireworks this year?” she chuckled, afraid to acknowledge that the fireworks were barely visible from the town square.

“It’s all anyone’s been talking about for months.”

“You’ve got to get out of this place.”

“Yeah, I know,” Raven chuckled.

The Christmas lights remained on every house on the block, completely illuminating the night and twinkling in the leftover feeling of mirth and joy, hoping to prolong the world a bi longer, to embrace the frigid cold and beautiful, pure snow, and cast off the cynicism that was inevitable within two months. It was the night of firsts, the night of new, the night of beginning and ending, all at once, a sadness for what was lot and a reverence for what was to come, the door of possibilities open wider than ever or any other day. And the Christmas lights remained, a beacon on every eave, a galaxy amidst winter’s distress, ushering in time and the striking of clocks.

The pair walked along the shoveled driveway as Clarke surveyed her home and her old neighborhood. She seemed to remember every branch, exactly as it was, so that even when she was away, her mind knew how they grew, so there was never a change, all remained intact.

“Shit,” Raven sighed, her breath clouding up in the cold. “I forgot my keys. Just… I’ll be two seconds.”

“It’s freezing. Can’t I just see it tomorrow?” Clarke sighed.

“Just hang tight. It’s not midnight yet.”

Suddenly alone in front of her childhood home, Clarke looked into the windows, watching from a new vantage point the life that was being lived inside. She wondered if Lexa’s habit of voyeurism was rubbing off on her. There hadn’t been a time she remembered taking these moments to look and listen and see, more importantly. But now, Clarke paused and watched, like a movie at the drive in.

When the door opened again, when the noise from the party grew louder and then dissipated again, Clarke looked to see her girlfriend appear instead of her friend.

“Thirty seconds left in the year, and I was afraid I was getting stood up,” Lexa smiled, shivering in the cold.

“I would never. Raven made me come out, but I’ve lost her, it seems.”

“Sounds like Raven.”

“Well, you’re here now. Care to usher in a new year with me, Woods?”

Clarke cocked her head to the side as she wrapped her arms around her girlfriend’s neck. Lexa’s arms moved around her waist in the familiar pattern they’d developed. Inside, the noise seemed to die down as the count began for the final seconds of the year.

“There is absolutely no where else I’d rather be.”

Clarke couldn’t wait, leaning forward to kiss Lexa one last time and for the first time as time existed beyond them. The cheers and confetti erupted in the house and the fireworks boomed in the distant, barely visible beyond the roofs across the street.

“Happy New Year,” Clarke whispered, her cheeks blushing with the cold and the kiss.

“Happy New Year,” Lexa returned, not even opening her eyes but smiling nonetheless.

“We should go inside.”

“Just one more minute.”

Even with their foreheads pressed together, Clarke nodded and closed her eyes as well. She felt Lexa’s hands toying with her coat, and she felt her breathing warm the space between them.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Lexa nodded again.

“You’re shivering. Let’s go in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she nodded again. “Wait. No. I don’t want to go inside yet.”

“But your--”

Lexa pulled away slightly, but she didn’t move. She furrowed and gulped, afraid to look at her girlfriend’s face. It flashed gold and green and blue and red and gold again with the display.

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you too,” Clarke promised.

“I need you to not say anything for like thirty seconds, okay?” Lexa waited until she earned a nod. “Okay. I love you. I knew I was in love with you the very first Christmas we spent together, and the very first year you kissed me on New Years. I love the life you’ve given me, and I love the person I naturally am when you’re here.”

Clarke watched the movements happen, she couldn’t quite understand it, despite knowing what it all meant. She watched Lexa dig into her pocket. She watched the little black box appear as Lexa knelt on one knee in front of her.

“I’ve fallen so entirely in love with you, that I want to spend the rest of my life, my holidays, my new years, my old years. I want it all with you. And I was wondering if you would marry me?”

Lexa stared back at her girlfriend and gulped again, her heart entirely stopping for the duration of what felt like an entire lifetime.

But words didn’t come, just Clarke pouncing forward and hugging Lexa’s neck so tightly she thought she might break it right there. But she nodded and nodded and hugged so fiercely she couldn't entirely nod. And when that failed, she kissed her.

The crowd that formed near the door and windows yelled and clapped, though neither noticed.

“I love you so much,” Clarke mumbled, unable to breathe or see or talk or do anything other than exist in a state of pure bliss.

“Good. Be mine forever?”

“Of course.”

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sichengtual · 3 years

Text

jihoon had never really felt the need for a travel buddy, until he finds himself alone in europe on christmas night. cheers to long lost friends and warm strudels!

— pairing: lee jihoon x reader.

— au: friends to lovers, writer!jihoon.

— genre: fluff.

— word count: 1864.

— song: we all fall in love sometimes — elton john.

this is for linh, from your tct secret santa! i really enjoyed writing this for you, and i hope you’re having a merry christmas and some very happy holidays!

The scene in front of him is almost a perfect one. Sitting down in the middle of a cheery café, Jihoon can’t help but wonder what it would take to complete the picture.

There’s a strong scent of freshly brewed coffee rising from his cup, meeting his nose in the form of thick, creamy wisps of warm steam. He can see them clearly in this lighting; soft, color-tinged light coming from the stained glass lamps that almost cover the entire roof, illuminating the entire place like a sort of luminous kaleidoscope. Just like every Christmas night (according to a bright red flyer pasted on the door), a live band plays instrumental covers of famous festive pieces, accompanied with the occasional singing of the clients. There’s the distinctive sound of an espresso machine mixing in with the music, all blending together with happy cheers and excited conversations.

The place was nothing fancy; full of small families and large groups of friends. Everyone is happily drinking from a colorful assortment of cups that assured each and every one of the clients held a different one, including Jihoon’s pastel blue mug, and snacking on the varied home-made pastries.

In the end, the only person Jihoon could see sitting alone in the vivid establishment is himself. Everyone around him is talking loudly to one another, laughing at inside jokes in words he can’t really understand if he’s not actively focusing on it.

He can see people passing by from the large window in the opposing wall, the stars in the night sky shining bright over their heads, and it strikes him: he’s by himself, in a foreign country, being alone in all the possible senses of the word. There’s really not much he can do except sip on his coffee and write along in his notebook, listening to the music and occasionally looking up to appreciate the carved wood decorations laid all over the cabinets.

He had, much to all of his friends’ dismay, hopped on a plane in an effort to cure his writer’s block with a bit of foreign inspiration, looking for new, exciting people that could somehow inspire new, exciting stories. And he had been successful, or at least effective, no matter how much he wishes he could have someone to share a cup of coffee with in the middle of a bursting restaurant.

“Jihoon? Do you mind if I join you?” He hears, and can’t help but think of the irony behind his last thought and the incoming question.

The voice comes to him like a flashback from his past: from breaks spent together in highschool, sharing snacks while sitting down on the staircase. It’s soft as he thinks back of a childhood spent together but an adulthood spent apart, of old friends separated by the harsh passing of time.

“The waiter said there aren’t any free tables left, but since we’re both alone, I thought we could share. He offered me a place at the bar, but it’s right next to where the band is playing. ”

He’s not sure what to answer, because he’s not even sure what to think. He’s surprised, wide-eyed like a deer in the headlights as he looks up at you, recognizing you as he thinks of how different you look.

“Alone?” Jihoon asks, finally finding his voice as he closes his notebook. “How did you know?”

“I saw you through the window,” the voice adds. “That… sounds weird, sorry. What I mean is I was waiting to get in and saw you while I was in the queue. A table for one is not that hard to recognize.”

Jihoon nods. “Sit down, it’s alright.”

And so you do, looking all over the place as you do in an attempt to take everything in. Because honestly, your surroundings are a lot to process when you think of all the colors, sounds and scents mixing in like some sort of surrealist artwork you still don’t understand. You try to divert your eyes from the guy sitting in front of you, his platinum blonde hair falling over his face as he looks down and writes in his notebook.

“I’ve never been here,” you comment.

And Jihoon looks up, because even though you had asked to accompany him at the table, he wasn’t really expecting a conversation. He always welcomed one, though.

“Me neither,” he says. “I’m just here on vacation.”

“Yeah, me too,” you answer.

“On the holidays?”

“Well, what a better place to experience the season’s magic than getting to travel the world, don’t you think?”

The waiter arrives. Following your old friend’s advice, you order a latte and a warm apple strudel (the latter being a suggestion from the waiter because, after all, it was the house specialty). Jihoon gets a refill for his coffee and a pastry just like yours before the waiter walks away after being called to another table.

“Are you writing?” You ask, pointing to the small notebook as you take off your scarf. It’s burning hot against your neck now that you’ve finally found refuge from the cold.

Jihoon nods. “I’m working on a story. That’s the reason I’m here.”

“A Vienna love story?”

“Could be. I… still don’t know the route it will take,” he confesses. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the waiter finally passing your order to the baristas. “I’m just jotting down ideas as they come to me.”

“You always found inspiration in the strangest of places,” you say. Jihoon smiles at the words, a soft laugh accompanying them. “A whole different country, for example.”

In all honesty, Jihoon had never thought he’d ever see you again. You had moved away for college and never really met up again, both of you way too busy with your own lives to find some middle ground. Or even look for it. He had buried himself in trying to write the next big literary classic, and you were completely dedicated to doing your own thing. In the end, it had all seemed way more demanding than trying to catch up with the person that used to steal your blueberry jelly-beans when you were kids.

You look away from him as your coffee arrives. The moment you set your eyes on it you’re happy you listened to Jihoon’s advice, the creamy foam on top showcasing a clearly drawn tulip. You’re also met with a steaming, puffy bun covered in fine powdered sugar, some of it instantly melting as a product of the heat.

“I never expected to find you here,” you comment as you empty a small packet of sugar into your coffee. “I mean, no one expects to find their old childhood friend while vacationing in Europe, but still. It’s a nice surprise.”

And he agrees, because out of his entire trip, seeing you here had been what had taken him by surprise the most. It almost felt like going back in time, or being in an alternate universe, following a completely different timeline. Somehow, being with you inside a small, quaint café in downtown Vienna feels like a big what if, completely different from the route your lives had taken.

It seems like a story told by a different narrator, actions improvised and producing an entirely different outcome. And it feels nice.

“It’s weird,” he says. He takes a sip of his coffee, feeling the warm beverage travel down his throat, soothing it. “I don’t know if it will sound crazy, or just extremely weird, but it almost feels as if time hasn’t passed at all.”

“What, are you still stuck in the marvelous nineteen’s?” You joke. He smirks in your direction as a retort to your words.

“It just feels way too familiar, even when it’s entirely different,” he adds.

“It’s just us having been good friends, once upon a time,” you say. “I guess the bond still exists, even if it’s buried deep inside.”

You notice him staring as you bite into your strudel, but you don’t really make anything out of it, because as he looks at you under the colorful light, he knows what the what if refers to. What if he had told you how he felt back then? How we was completely in love with you, knowing you like the back of his hand and thinking he really could see himself sharing his life with you as he always had.

“Oh, I read your book when it came out last year!” You comment excitedly, once you’ve swallowed down the treat. “I can’t believe I was childhood friends with this generation’s Shakespeare.”

Jihoon laughs, feeling the blood rising to his cheeks. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“No, it was amazing!” You continue. “You were always so amazingly talented. Even my mom read it, and you know the only things she ever reads are the nutritional tabs when she goes grocery shopping.”

“God, do you remember going grocery shopping with your mom, though?”

“You were always her favorite, she kept buying you those chilli powder candies in exchange of you backing her up with her choice of chips.”

“I can’t believe I agreed on buying family-sized sour cream chips only on the promise of tangy chilli powder candies.”

And he laughs. He laughs, wholeheartedly, throwing his head back as he feels a weight finally being lifted from his shoulders. He laughs, to his entire soul’s content, for once being able to get lost in the feeling of it. It’s a feeling he knows, a feeling he misses, and it feels like coming home. Somehow, despite being miles and years away, your smile has brought him back to days spent in the sun, basking in the warmth of the summer.

He looks at you, a big grin plastered on both of your faces, a direct aftermath of the laughter, and he can’t help but feel like he’s just been given a second chance. It’s not that he doesn’t believe in coincidences, but as you look back at him, smiling as wide as your face allows, it almost feels as if the entire universe has conspired in reuniting you, once again, on Christmas night in a foreign country.

The band begins to play a very familiar song, one he can easily recognize even when the words sung are not ones he understands. But it speaks of home, and of love, and it’s finally, once and for all, something he can be completely sure he’s feeling.

And so he opens his notebook, his pen rolling effortlessly over the thick, creamy paper as he writes down the title of his next novel, undoubtedly his biggest hit to date. His first ever dedication, completely inspired by the moment he’s sharing with you. And the moments he hopes will come.

It’s a tale of two lovers separated by the cruel will of life, finally finding each other a thousand moonlights since their ways had parted. It’s a tale of hope, of love conquering even with the odds completely not in its favor. It’s a tale of luck, after all, of second chances finally allowing for happiness.

He smiles when he reads the words.

Coffee, Vienna, and love regained.

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