Snow Ducks Pjs.

snow ducks — pjs.

in which park jisung loved snow ducks, but he loved you more.

a/n: merry christmas to those who celebrate! i’m back after almost a year (LOL) to drop this jack frost!jisung au that’s been rotting in my drafts ever since he’d dyed his hair for glimo T_T

warning/s: f!reader x jisung, mild profanity (like one or two), not proofread, fluff & angst if you squint, jisung and reader are CLUELESS, insinuations of a rough past, jisung as jack frost (because this is a warning in and of itself)

jisung couldn’t have imagined getting used to a life where no one knew his name. a life where everyone seemed to walk right through his body even when he was standing directly in front of them, his dark blue jacket hanging loosely on his body—bare feet feeling numb despite the cold concrete beneath them.

alas, he didn’t really have a choice. waking up to the man in the moon telling him that he was special? that’s what thrusted him into his new lifestyle.

“jack frost?” the curious tone of a short brown haired girl tore his attention away from his dwindling thoughts—she was staring cluelessly up at her father, who watched her from the family’s porch.

jisung huffs, a small smirk already pulling at his lips. he’s heard this conversation a thousand times, but he was always curious as to how each parent would spin the story and he in-turn was pleasantly surprised at the amount of different takes each parent would tell their kids.

the man clears his throat before repeating the same old folklore the people of the city had made up about the white haired boy, yet with a new-found twist. “if you stay outside too long, jack frost will come and freeze you up!”

this makes the teenage boy chuckle, his staff hanging freely on his fingertips. sure, he can cause a blizzard with just the touch of them thanks to the man in the moon, but even he wouldn’t do that to a little girl. though, his sharp eyes watches her gasp before she rushes up from her spot in front of their house, the snow beneath her feet crackles as she giggles into her dads arms.

jisung doesn’t know what makes his heart freeze, the lonely feeling he gets from the heartwarming family gesture—or the snowstorm he seems to be brewing over the city of pennsylvania.

—

“you were out again?”

jisung sighs. he didn’t want to be sitting through another one of the tooth fairy’s lectures and with this one being his third of the week, he could probably recite her lecture off the top of his head.

her wings were fluttering rapidly as her cheeks tinted pink with how frustrated she was with him. “you didn’t throw snowballs at a child’s head again did you?”

a laugh almost bubbles from his lips. almost.

“that was one time! and they had fun didn’t they?” the boy grins as he twirls the small snowflakes around in the air above his fingers. he watches as she relaxes a tiny bit, her wings still making the slight fluttering noise he’s learned to drown out. the green fairy sighs, tired from having to say the same thing over and over again to the michievous boy standing in front of her with absolutely no care in the world.

“don’t let north find out, okay? he’ll rip your head right off.” she ends her lecture short with a small murmur, which catches jisung off guard. her bright smile flashes at him before she’s whisked away by one of her many fairies.

being a guardian wasn’t always easy, he was a teenage boy for god’s sake and having to deal with everything a boy his age does on top of having to be a ‘role model’ for millions of kids out in the world—meant finding time for him to just be himself, the teenage jisung park, was a scarce opportunity. he knew the tooth fairy only meant well, they all did, even the easter bunny. but he felt like they didn’t understand. they didn’t know about the grip his past had on him, a past that he isn’t even fully aware about yet. they didn’t know that sometimes all he yearns for are answers to who he really is.

but despite all this, he picks up his staff with his gaze trailing over the hundreds of elves scattered across the north pole.

and the white haired boy is gone—with only a small snowflake left in his place.

—

over the years, jisung’s learned to ignore the ache in his chest that longs to search for the answers to the questions swirling in his head. instead, he enjoys walking in the silence of the night—the glow from sandman’s magic lights his path as he prods at the floor beneath him.

he welcomes the cold, the one thing that has brought him comfort over these last few years. watching the ice create beautiful shapes on the pavement strangely relaxes him as he hums a soft song he doesn’t remember, though his heart seems to recognize the familiar tune.

“great job, sandy.” jisung whispers into the dead of the night, watching proudly as the yellow sand sifts into each house he passes by.

the boy lifts himself into the air with little to no effort. he lets a chuckle slip past his lips as his fingers feel through the sandman’s ‘dream trail’ as he likes to call it. jisung has always admired him, his power to soothe children and provide them with heart warming dreams to keep their sleep from being distrupted.

on nights like this, cold and lonely ones, he misses his home deeply. he knows it sounds ridiculous, to miss a home he doesn’t even remember, but he dreams that he had a family. one that would snuggle under one blanket on nights like this one—one that would wake each other up on christmas day because north or ‘santa’ had decided to pay them a visit.

he’s snapped out of his daydream though when he spots you sitting in front of your house. jisung’s never been one to keep track of time, but judging off the dream trail, he was pretty sure that it was late enough for no one to be out. you seemed to be busying yourself with something in the snow, so he takes this as his sign to drop down from the wires he’d been standing on previously.

“ducks?” he’s confused when he sees enough ducks made of snow sitting in a straight line, all of them nearly identical to each other.

his curious mind pushes him to wander towards your hunched figure, but something in him makes him cautious—almost like approaching you was a mistake.

jisung chooses to ignore the unfamiliar feeling, his feet making no marks in the snow as he squats next to you, his staff standing tall next to both of your figures.

his eyes linger on your face, the top of your head was covered in a black beanie with a pom pom sitting at the top. you were clad in your pajamas and a jacket—an outfit that kind of matched his—your cheeks and nose were both stained pink from the cold, but your eyes shimmered in happiness as you continued to make another duck.

“you kind of look like a ryan to me..?” he’s startled by the warmth in your voice, followed by the soft giggles that left your lips.

he could tell you were his age, something he oddly never encounters. he’s used to seeing toddlers running and playing around in the snow, so the weird feeling of familiarity settles in his chest as you put down the duck-making-contraption to blow some warmth into your hands.

you don’t seem to notice him, not like he expected you to, but it’s when you whisper something into the cold air that has him rooted to his place on the ground.

“i hope you still like ducks, ‘sung. i made too many for you to not like them anymore! happy birthday, wherever you are.”

and you disappear back into your house after picking up your contraption.

—

“how would she even know who i am?! i sure as hell don’t know who she is!” jisung was close to ripping the frosty white hair off his head and his feet were burning the solid floor of the north pole from the amount of pacing he’s been doing since he had gotten there an hour before all the elves had woken up and gotten to work.

north’s jaw ticks as he sighs for what felt like the millionth time that morning. “for the last time, jack, she probably means someone else! it’s not like you’re the only “jisung” in the world.”

the rest of the guardians bob their heads in aggreement, soft murmurs of their own comments all mesh into one—but jisung decides against them all. he felt a physical pull towards you, the shape of your face, the way you spoke and the way your eyes shone in the moonlight… all those things felt so familiar, but he was driving himself crazy as to why it all felt the way it did.

“i’m telling you. she knows who i am!”

he was frustrated. the feeling of familiarity in his chest was addicting and so very comforting. he wanted to know who you were—how you knew him—well, he was so sure that he was the “‘sung” you were talking about.

his heart was racing so loudly that it was pumping in his ears. the questions that were screaming at him made his head spin. it wasn’t like the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t remember his past. this… this was world’s apart from that.

despite it all, jisung’s pacing seems to slow to a stop before his eyes narrow into slits. the silence of a certain green fairy was enough for his mind to swirl with a couple thousand more questions.

his gaze hardens like the ice he’s able to create with his fingertips, “you know something.”

the phrase comes out bitter and demanding. something the younger boy has never used especially around any of the guardians. he watches as the fairy’s eyes dart to everything in the room except him, explanations spilling from her mouth.

“no i don’t! who said i did? was it one of my own? because there’s absolutely noooo way i know anything! nothing! nada! zer—“

the tooth fairy bites her lip as she watches jisung’s grip tighten on the wooden staff.

“park,” north’s voice is low, the warning clear in his tone. he loves jisung like he would love his own son if he had one, but he would not and will not tolerate him hurting any of the other guardians.

not like he could ever do that.

“you’re going to tell me what you know right now.” the frustration is evident in his voice. he was tired of being left in the dark—forced to fend for himself when that’s all he’s been doing for so long. too long.

the fairy fiddles with her fingers, her wings flapping at an even faster rate behind her. “i-i don’t know much. but—i have your teeth. f-from when you were just jisung park.”

the world seems to slow to a stop. jisung’s read about it happening in some books he found in the nooks and crannies of the north pole, but he hadn’t expected it to feel like it did.

he knew what that meant. she had once told him that all the teeth she had collected from each kid held a memory from their lives. the collection of memories all locked in the gold tube he used to gaze at with so much curiosity, the memories unlocked by one touch of his finger.

the silence was suffocating him—and suddenly he couldn’t breathe.

“jisung. you have to calm down.”

the worried gaze of the easter bunny somewhat helps him, though his rapid breaths were starting to be difficult on his lungs. hearing how something so crucial to figuring out his past, to figuring out who he is, was kept from him by someone he’s kept so close for the past few years seemed to be crushing him.

“y-you… you had the answers to my questions all this time… and you didn’t… you didn’t tell me?” heartbreak drips from his tone. all those nights he spent trying to shut out the loud thoughts in his head—all of which could’ve been solved if the tooth fairy had just told him what she just did.

“we wanted you to embrace who you are now, jack. you’re a guardian now, it doesn’t matter what happened in the past—“

“that’s not for you to decide!” his rough shout startles everyone in the room, even some of the elves. his eyes sting from the unshed tears he’s determined to keep from rolling down his cheeks.

“it wasn’t your right to take that from me. those are my memories, my past, my life!” jisung’s breathing hard now. the intensity of how painful this secret was overbearing. and the fact that everyone knew? not just the tooth fairy? that’s what hurt him most.

he scoffs, the grip on his staff tightening as he lifts his hood up above his head.

“i can’t believe any of you.” he ignores the way they all scramble after him, pleading for him to calm down—he needed to be somewhere else, anywhere else but in a room full of people who just shattered his already bruised heart.

—

you couldn’t stand the cold. you prefer to be out on a sunny and warm day than to play in the snow while simultaneously freezing to death.

so why were you standing out in the cold?

you wished you could say that you didn’t know. that somehow, the cold just brought you some source of comfort and that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason as to why. but you did know. you know that you’re out here because of a certain boy and how he always loved the snow. how he knew how to handle himself on ice, even when it was freezing and his teeth were chattering.

“y/n? come back inside, dear. it’s freezing!” the voice of your mother pulls you from your everlasting thoughts of the boy you loved, as it almost always did.

you turn to look at her and you see the pity in her eyes. you know she can tell whenever you start to get out of sorts over your best friend who went missing four years ago now. she’s seen the ducks left out, just like you do for every birthday that’s passed without him.

“i’ll be in in a minute, mom.” you smile, a genuine one, soaking in the cold for a little bit more when you hear your front door gently closing after a soft reply from your mom.

you hadn’t known what happened to your best friend, and he never got the justice you felt he deserved. but him disappearing without a trace seemed to scream ‘runaway!’ to the police, so his case was dropped, much to yours and your family’s devastation. you still remember the day you found out he disappeared like it was yesterday.

“where’s this boy at?” your irritated sigh is acxompanied with a white puff from your mouth, the cold atmosphere made your breath visible as your teeth chattered and your fingers trembled.

despite it all, you were there. waiting in front of the fountain of your town like you always do when winter starts.

‘hello! this is jisung, i don’t seem to have heard your call or—shit y/n cut that out! sorry uh… leave your message at the beep, okay bye!’

“damn it.” the frustration was settling in, your eyes gazing at the digital numbers taunting you on your phone. it’s almost been an hour since you were supposed to meet jisung here—either he had forgotten your plans, or he simply liked to torture you because he knew how much you hated the cold—and if it was the latter, you were certain you’d kill him.

your phone rings in your hands and you hurriedly pick up, expecting to hear your best friends deep voice scrambling with apologies.

“jisu—“

“…honey? where are you? mrs. park just called to say that jisung’s gone missing…”

your life hasn’t been the same ever since. you never heard a peep from the boy—and even after a whole year of you texting his number, someone else eventually answered, regretfully telling you that they weren’t jisung, but an older lady named kira.

which was a weird experience, but your parents were glad that you had finally let go of texting your missing best friend. they knew you would take the news the hardest. you were head over heels for this boy, and seeing as how you both were attached at the hip—they were worried for how you’d cope.

and they’ve settled that you making ducks out of snow once a year seems to be the perfect way to cope for you.

“this is stupid,” you mutter, more to yourself than anyone in particular. you gaze at the perfectly lined up ducks. eighteen of them.

that’s how old jisung would’ve turned that year.

when your fingers start to feel numb, the cold air seeming to get even colder, you decide that maybe it’s time to head back inside. you glance one more time over at the eighteen ducks sitting neatly at the front of your porch. a small flicker in you hopes that one day, they somehow bring jisung home.

—

he didn’t know what he was doing here. after all that happened in the north pole, he just let the wind take him anywhere. his mind was too busy to figure out where he’d stay before returning back to the north pole when everything was sorted out in his mind and heart.

and that’s how he finds himself standing next to you. his hood is up and his tight grip on his staff causes you to let out a small shiver.

he can tell you’re feeling somber, your eyes weren’t as happy as they were when he first saw you and your gaze seemed to linger at nothing in particular.

he watches as you purse your lips before slowly heading back inside. jisung didn’t know who you were, but being next to you warmed his freezing heart with a sense of familiarity he hasn’t felt in so long.

“eighteen…” his soft mumble is heard by no one, he had counted the ducks you had lined up by your house.

he wonders why you had decided to make that many, but a small smile tugs at his lips when he uses his magic to create a small pile of snow around the ducks, forming a small fence around all of them.

jisung’s torn from his thoughts when he hears soft chatter coming from the inside of your house, his curiosity getting the better of him while he stands to steal a glance from your window.

“hey hon. do you want to pay jisung a visit?” an older man looks directly at you as he fixes his tie, your slightly smaller stature stands in front of him, clad in the same outfit he saw you standing in earlier—minus a set of blue gloves.

the mention of his name has him attempting to hear your conversation better. he strains to hear over his racing heart, but he hears you reply with a hesitant ‘sure’. even from where he’s standing, he can see the fear in your eyes. he doesn’t exactly know why they glisten with unshed tears and he looks away as your family gathers around you in a group hug. he felt like he was intruding an important family moment.

he’s not sure how much time has passed with how he was trying hard not to eavesdrop, but your front door suddenly nudges open, surprising him almost enough to drop his staff.

“you made a little fence?” jisung hears the grin on your mom’s face and he turns to you to find you staring at his little creation around your ducks.

your face is turned down into a frown, your hands clad in the blue gloves you were wearing the first time he saw you that day. “i didn’t.”

this seems to silence your parents as they watch you with curious eyes. you looked conflicted, almost as if you didn’t know whether or not you liked the fact that someone had added to your small creation.

“well… then maybe jack frost did it?”

jisung perks up at the mention of his name, (well his alter ego’s name, you could say) his jaw slacks at the playful tone your father had taken when talking about him. but your eyes immediately roll into the back of your head.

“yeah, whatever.” the last word was mumbled underneath your breath, but he heard it loud and clear. he couldn’t understand why you not believing in him hurt the most, even when he knew you didn’t just by the fact that you couldn’t see him.

he watches dejectedly as your family gets into your car, you taking the back seat while your family sit in the front. your head bobs to music that was probably playing on the radio, and all he could do is stand on your porch as your dad drives you all away.

—

“let me see my memories.” the tone he’s chosen to use wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t harsh either.

jisung’s staring straight at the tooth fairy, who was in the middle of sorting out a problem with her baby fairies. she stills and purses her lips, looking at the teenage boy with red-rimmed eyes.

he’s had enough of the lies, tired of the way the rest of the guardians seem to think they can decide what he wants to do with who he is and the past that holds the answers to everything he had questioned the man in the moon ever since he had become jack frost.

“what happened, jisung?” her concern is waved off by the cold boy, the grip on his staff was tightening. “please, toothiana.”

his low whisper gets to her. he never calls her by her name unless things get too difiicult, for either of them. she could hear the pain hidden by his tough front, but she could tell that the boy was having an incredibly hard time.

“you’ve kept this from me for long enough. i’m tired of having to… look towards the moon and get no response every night for something i know is right here with you—!” his voice strains from the pain he’s trying so hard to hide from her.

the fairy sighs—conflicted by the care she holds for him and her duty to protect him. “…okay.”

jisung was fairly surprised by how quickly she agreed to him, but she wasn’t sure if she should even be allowing him to see his memories, strict rules from north was taunting her mind. but, with one more glance at jisung, she knows that she just doesn’t have the heart to keep it from him.

he watches silently as she flutters over to the hidden cases of teeth she had collected over the years, her fingers skimming over thousands of tabs—one shiny case slipping out into her awaiting hands.

“just… we’re here for you, jisung. okay? if you need us…” the fairy gently places the gold tube in his hands before leaving him alone to discover the memories lying in the gold case.

he wasn’t sure about what was preventing him from diving head first into his memories, but his gaze remained trained on the small image on the side of the tube, one that looked like his younger self. the silence he was left with seemed to scream at him to touch the white surface.

‘sung! jisung, where are you?!

he wanted to call out to the voice, tell them that he was right here and that he was doing just fine. he could hear the panic in the unfamiliar voice despite it being muffled and quiet.

being in this moment scared him more than anything ever has—he could have his memories in his hands right now and they were all at the touch of his fingertips. but the idea of it all overwhelmed him, pushing his heart to rage against his chest.

jisung… where did you go?

“i’m right here.” his whisper is heard by no one.

—

“that’s so stupid!” the room is filled with giggles as the boy attempts to flip whipped cream up from the back of his hand and into his mouth.

with a cute frown, “it is not! and it’s so possible.” jisung rolls his eyes, slapping his wrist and missing for the hundredth time.

this only causes the two kids to fall into even more fits of giggles, the whipped cream landing on the young boy’s forehead. he looked incredibly silly, but nothing could have prepared the younger girl for how adorable he looked, despite it all.

“shouldn’t you get going? or do you wanna stay over tonight?” she breaks the comfortable atmosphere with the tough question. the girl knew how sensitive the topic of jisung’s parents were, which is why she attempted to avoid it as much as she could. but it was late, and if he didn’t go home now, he would for sure be in trouble.

his deep sigh is what meets the soft question, and though he tries to hide behind a smile, she knew he was hurting.

“is it okay if i stay over?”

she never asks why, but that’s why jisung’s so lucky to have the girl sitting in front of him. his question is met by a soft nod from her, eliciting his lips to tug into a small smile.

“you’re the best.”

the sliver of a memory soothes one of jisung’s many curiosities. the small gold case he’s holding opened up one of his many lost memories, one that he knows was treasured by his younger self. the sight of the faceless girl haunts his mind as he imagines the memory over and over again. who was she to him?

“damn it,” jisung huffs when he feels frustrated tears sting at his eyes.

he could tell by the one memory he allowed himself to see—that the reason the guardians were hiding this from him, was because of the difficult past he was dealt with. he may not remember any of it, but slowly it was piecing itself together.

—

you hated this day. and with every year that passes, you’d wonder if it would ever get easier, but it never does. seeing your best friend’s name engraved on a tombstone was never an easy sight. it never failed to bring you to tears.

your parents would always carry a new boquet of hyacinths, jisung’s favorite flower according to you. the three of you would arrive at his grave, a different boquet already sitting at the feet of his tombstone.

you had your hands in your pockets and your gaze settled on the floor—so you didn’t notice a certain white haired boy who had settled himself on your porch.

“woah. what the hell?!” your loud voice seems to go ignored by your parents as they head into your house. your heart was racing at the sight of the unknown boy who seemed just as startled as you were.

jisung’s eyes are blown wide as he stares back at you, “y-you can see me…?”

you’re clutching at your jacket as you stare at him, bewildered. what the hell?

“yes i can see you, y-you freak! who the hell are you?!”

he stumbles as he picks up his staff, the hood resting on his head falls as he slowly steps off your porch. “shh, dude. you have to be quiet.”

jisung doesn’t know what he’s doing. he came here to get some piece of mind—and when your car came rolling up your driveway, he wasn’t expecting you to see him.

“you expect me to be quiet when you’re just mmf—!”

both of you are surprised when jisung surges forward and covers your mouth with his hand. you’re stunned at his action, his palm feeling cold as ice against your skin.

“no one else sees me. i don’t know why you do, though. so you have to shut up.” he’s quiet now, his eyes turning to your front door, trying to see if your parents were going to come out at any moment.

“who the hell are you?” your voice is slightly calm now, the boy stands sheepishly in front of you. his silence gives you a moment to look him over, a ridiculous wooden staff is sitting between his fingers—a blue hoodie clads his skinny figure and his feet were bare against the white snow covering your front yard.

“i’m—uh… jack..?” he watches, amused at how you seem to stare at him with disbelief.

“jack?” you whisper, your jaw unclenches as he nods at your question. an easy smile dancing on his lips.

he honestly has no idea what he’s doing. but he does know that he’s enjoying it.

“yeah! jack frost, ever heard of me?” he smiles lazily. it wasn’t everyday that he could introduce himself as the fairytale that he seems to have become over the past for years to anyone.

your frown is instant. jisung watched as your eyes danced across his face, taking in the familiarity of his older, colder features.

he expected anything. maybe a jaw drop. maybe a gasp, maybe even an eyebrow raise with some questioning as to whether or not he was serious.

what he didn’t expect though, was for your eyes to widen before your body crumpled to the ground.

—

the warmth of your bed is the first thing that you register when you wake from the strangest dream.

you’d seen jisung. you were sure of it. his hair was as white as snow, and he stared at you with not one hint of recognition—just mischief and a little disbelief at the idea of you seeing him.

“jack…” your murmur disturbed the silence of your bedroom. sitting up, your blanket fell off your shoulders. you were still in the clothes you wore to jisung’s grave, and the moonlight spilling into your room was the only source of light that illuminated your space.

confusion and sadness wraps itself around your heart as you try and shake the feelings that your dream had welcomed back into your head.

unbeknownst to you, frost begins to form on the corners of your closed window as a certain white haired boy perches himself on your roof—his grip on his wooden staff tightening at your quiet whisper.

he didn’t know who you were—not up until a few days ago, anyway. so why did a flash of recognition cross your eyes before you tumbled to the ground?

was that his confirmation that he was the jisung you were talking about? but how?

the jisung you knew was dead. and he was very much alive. albeit, invisible to everyone, but alive. except he wasn’t invisible to you.

the cold boy’s eyes wandered up to the moon, glaring at it as it seemed to be taunting him from above. how could he possibly have more questions now that he’d watched one memory from his stupid golden tooth capsule?

with one last huff (and a glance towards your now peaceful figure tucked away underneath your blanket), jisung stands—and lets the air take him far away from your house.

—

“jisung! don’t go so fast!”

giggles erupt into the air as jisung grips onto the girl’s arms, leading them both across the frozen water.

his smile was bright enough to light up the darkest of nights, watching as the girl struggles to balance herself on the slipper surface.

“you’re alright.” he murmurs to her, grinning as a splash of pink settles on her cheeks.

the girl shakes her head, her grip on his arms tightening as she feels their speed start to pick up once more. “i swear to God, park jisung, if we fall—“

“don’t worry, darling. i won’t ever let you fall.”

“jack?” the tooth fairy’s tentative voice cracks jisung’s concentration as he shuts the golden capsule shut.

she eyes him, watching as he buries what he felt by what he saw deep beneath his surface. he clears his throat before shoving the capsule into the pocket that rests on the bottom of his sweater.

“what’s up?”

her wings flutter furiously as she flies herself over to him. “are… are you alright?”

and the concern in her voice—pisses him off.

“yeah. never better.” jisung smiles at her, allowing his frustration to coat his words and drip off them.

he watches as she flinches at the harshness of his words, her mouth forming a slight pout, and guilt tugs at his heart. he sighs, trying to shake the frustration from his mind.

“i’m sorry.” he murmurs, turning away from the fairy to reel back his emotions. technically, it wasn’t her fault that the memory of the girl was flawed. so it wasn’t fair to the tooth fairy that he was taking his frustrations out on her.

she smiles slightly, reaching up to fluff his hair.

“i’m sorry too, jack.”

their eyes meet and he feels his resolve cracking just a tiny bit. he had always loved the tooth fairy in a sort of, sisterly kind of way, even when she’d piss him off a lot of the time.

she bites her lip, her wings fluttering as she brings herself back down to her feet.

“…did opening your tooth box help with anything?” she asks hesitantly, unsure of how he’d taken the weight of his past.

jisung swallows. his grip on the golden capsule tightens as he avoids her gaze.

“it… it actually raised a lot more questions.” he sighs, his jaw clenching as the image of the faceless girl forces its way back into his mind.

the tooth fairy frowns, watching him closely. “how so?”

“i haven’t actually fully opened it. i could only let myself see two memories,” she nods, listening intently as jisung runs his hand through his hair.

he bites his lip, a frown making its way onto his face before he continued, “both of which had this girl. we were inseparable, apparently. but in both memories her face is blurred.”

the green fairy sighs. “that does happen to some tooth boxes. either the memories are tampered with time, or they were simply memories that the child wanted to block out. but you did say that you and the girl seemed close? i wonder why younger you had wanted to block those memories out…”

jisung’s eyes fall closed, frustration swirling beneath his chest once more.

he’d taken his tooth box in hopes for answers. and yet here he stands, more and more questions filling his mind—and suffocating his peace.

—

“you’re here.”

your voice came out breathless, though you didn’t mean for it to be. jisung was sitting on your fence, snowflakes flying from his fingertips and his staff at his feet.

his eyes darted to your figure and his lips turned up into a grin. “hello to you too!”

your heart stutters in your chest. so it wasn’t a dream.

jisung grins when he hops off your fence to make his way to you. his staff hanging comfortably from his hands. there was a sense of familiarity that drew him to you, a weird feeling that oddly—reminded him of home.

“you, good lady, happen to be one of the only humans that can see me.” jisung smiles wider when he reaches to stand right in front of you. your neck cranes to look into his eyes, and it satisfies a small part of him that he chooses to ignore.

“good lady?” jisung laughs as you cringe, pushing the hood off his head.

“y’know, like good sir?” you roll your eyes as jisung nods his head to the pile of snow in front of the two of you.

your eyes widen as they finally register the sheer amount of ducks that have been spread across your yard. “what… the?”

jisung laughs and scratches the back of his neck as he watches your reaction carefully.

“i saw you that day. you were making ducks with that contraption of yours—figured it’d be a lot faster if i made them for you.”

you’re still staring at the snow ducks, all in different shapes and sizes, your voice having evaded your throat.

jisung shuffles on his feet, unsure of what to make of your silence. he flicks his fingers at the ducks and watches happily as they come to life.

“this is… this is awesome, jack.”

he stiffens at the name, but smiles nonetheless. you step forward to crouch closer to the ducks, laughing when some of them waddle around you. jisung grins, flicking his wrist to create even more magic with the snow that shoots from his fingertips.

your giggles fill the air as he makes snow glide through the air, before bursting into tiny snowflakes that glitter as the sunshine hits them.

jisung?

the oddly familiar voice distracts the white haired boy, his fingers freezing in the air. you’re still distracted by the snowflakes when jisung feels for the tooth box in his pocket.

‘sung, where’d you go?

“i-i gotta go. i forgot i had some place to be.” he murmurs, tugging the hood of his hoodie back over his head.

your eyes linger on the little ducks all over your feet, “alright. when will i—?”

when you finally tear your eyes away from the snow, the icy boy is nowhere to be found.

—

i… i’m right here.

it was weirdly quiet. jisung felt like he was floating, which was definitely not something he was used to. his eyes were closed, and he couldn’t seem to peel them open.

“park jisung, i swear if you’re hiding just to scare me, i’m going to kill you!”

y/n. where were you? your voice sounded so far away.

it was cold. jisung felt the bite of the freezing winter air, but he didn’t feel the need to care at all.

“‘sung, seriously…” you sounded annoyed. but he was right there.

i’m here!

jisung was convinced that he was trapped in a dream. he couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, or to reply to your annoyed cries.

then he heard your phone ring—a heartbroken gasp tumbles past your lips, and hurried footsteps fade farther and farther away from him.

y/n! i’m right here…

“y/n.” jisung gasps, the tooth box slipping from his fingers. the truth slams into him and brings him to his knees.

your last memory of him, was that he’d ditched you. the revelation wraps around his heart as tears push their way past his strong exterior.

for years he had longed to know who he had been before the man in the moon chose him to be a guardian. for years he longed for a family—one that knew him as park jisung and not as jack frost.

and now, the answers to his prayers were right there, within his reach.

“jack?” north’s deep voice brings him out of the haze he was drowning in.

tears were blurring his vision, but he stood, grabbing his staff before wiping them off with his sleeve. “i… i have a family.”

jisung’s soft voice brings a small smile onto north’s face. the rest of the guardians had been just that all their lives, guardians. jack—jisung, had been the only one who was turned into a guardian after a tragedy that had struck his life.

north had hoped to keep him in the dark for as long as possible, though he knew it was never going to end up that way. when jisung was first introduced as a guardian, he had been so clueless—so accepting of his fate as jack frost, that north had felt it’d been best to allow him to learn to love himself as jack frost, even if that meant not knowing who he was as park jisung.

he had, obviously, been wrong.

“go, ji.”

jisung’s sobs (embarrassingly) get louder, surging forward to wrap his arms around north.

“thank you, north.”

—

something told jisung that you weren’t home. even though he passed by, eyeing the car that sat in your driveway.

the cold winter air was leading him some place else. some place closer to the girl that seemed to feel more and more like home.

“i miss you, ‘sung.”

your lonely whisper just manages to reach his ears as he slows to a stop a couple feet away from where you sat.

his eyes wandered past your seated figure, slowly taking in where the wind had taken him.

a frozen over lake. one that he knew quite well.

it was cold. jisung felt the bite of the freezing winter air, but he didn’t feel the need to care at all.

“where’d you go, ‘sung?” your heartbroken whisper echoes through the empty lake once more, and urges jisung to move closer to you.

“i’m right here.”

you’re startled—your head whips towards his figure before you’re up on your feet. you’re frowning at him, but all he can do is smile warmly back at you.

“jack? what are you—“

he moves forward, flicking his wrists to form makeshift ice skates on your feet. jisung has no idea what he’s doing, but he moves swiftly and hurriedly—transferring the two of you onto the frozen lake.

“jack!” your gasp is full of fear, your hands gripping onto his forearms as jisung glides the two of you across the frozen water.

“i’m so sorry it took me this long to remember you. to remember us, y/n.” jisung’s murmur is quiet, the cold winter air suddenly heats as your eyes find his despite the fear of falling.

it takes a second, but the truth hits you just as hard as it had him a couple hours before.

park jisung was in front of you. his brown hair hair was swapped with strands that were white as snow, his eyes were blue instead of their usual dark brown and his feet were bare—but there was no doubting the sweet smile that etched itself onto his lips and the dimples that came with it.

“…’sung?”

your whisper is breathless once more, and the smile that curves jisung’s lips could not be sweeter.

“hi, darling.”

—

Clingy || MYG

(banner by my lovely lovely @itaeewon)

Clingy - MYG drabble by daechwitatamic

Pairing: MYG x reader

Genre: established relationship, fluff and love, slice of life

WC: 1k

Warnings: one (1) curse, this is also not my wheelhouse to write so I’m nervous eager to see what you think :)

Note: thank you a billion times for all the sobbing emojis during your beta job, @/kookstempo!!! ilu pumpkin

You’re comfy – so comfy: blanket over your legs holding in your body heat, coffee cup between your hands still steaming as you wait for it to cool enough to drink, throw-pillows behind you in just the right spots.

Unfortunately, you have to get up. Why? Because you hear Yoongi’s electric toothbrush in the bathroom, and that means he’s getting ready to leave.

You must make your displeasure known.

You set your coffee cup on the table and reach for the remote, pausing the nonsense you were half-watching as you woke up. You pad through the living room sleepily, heading towards the bathroom light down the hallway.

He’s fresh out of the shower, standing before the bathroom sink in only a clean pair of boxer briefs. In the sink below him, cold water is running. You eye his bare back, still covered in water droplets. He never dries his shoulders properly. He turns to look at you as you come into view in the doorway, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.

“Uh-oh,” he says, around a mouthful of toothpaste. You can’t help it - you smile deviously.

You come to stand behind him and wrap your arms around his torso, holding on to your own forearms to lock him in place. You rest your cheek against the flat of his shoulder blade for a second – he’s still so warm from the shower – but then face front to look at him in the mirror. In your reflections, you can only see yourself from your eyes up, peering over his shoulder, the rest of you hidden behind the love of your life.

He meets your eyes in the mirror and gives you a look that’s somehow both indulgent and warning. The duality with this guy, you swear.

He leans forward to spit and rinse, and you keep your arms locked tight around his middle, giggling a little when the action causes you to have to stretch onto your tippytoes. You keep your grip tight as he turns to reach for a face-towel, and swivel together with him when he turns back to turn the faucet off.

“Are we really doing this?” he asks you, the barest hint of a laugh in his voice.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say lightly, feigning innocence.

He rolls his eyes at you, but you can see the corners of his mouth fighting twitches. He doesn’t want to laugh; he knows laughing will only encourage your shenanigans.

He turns and heads back into your shared bedroom, and you keep your arms in place, hopping quickly from one foot to another in an effort to not step on him or accidentally let go. He huffs out a laugh as your front bumps into his back over and over in your efforts to keep up.

“Did you know,” he says, stopping in front of his closet, eyes searching for what he wants to wear, “that you only do this when I’m trying to get ready to go?”

“Do what?” you demand innocently.

He cocks an eyebrow at you over his shoulder. You squeeze him just a little tighter. “Get clingy,” he clarifies, even though you both knew what he meant.

“It’s not the only time I get clingy,” you muse, happy to keep the conversation going. As long as he’s still in your grasp, as long as he’s still talking to you, then you’re successfully delaying his departure. “I get clingy when I’m sleepy, too. Or when I’m sad. Or when I just want a hug.”

He’s digging through the closet now, hands going for the hangers he wants. “That’s a long list. How do I put up with you?”

“Good question,” you deadpan. “How do you put up with me?”

He’s been trying to get ready despite your iron grip around his middle – this is such a familiar song-and-dance he’s not sure he can get dressed without you attached to his back – but now he stops. His instinctual reaction, sassy shit that he is, is to quip, “It’s a challenge, for sure,” but something halts him today.

He turns within your little prison, and you allow it. He bends down and kisses your forehead, one lock of black hair falling over his forehead with the motion, and your eyes widen. You obstructing his getting-ready process is commonplace – him being sweet instead of playfully annoyed is not.

But there’s something Yoongi learned the hard way over a year ago when you two started getting serious: while his love language is acts of service, yours is words of affirmation. You both had to learn this about each other and adjust. For you that meant remembering to ask yourself what you could do for him when you weren’t used to having someone else to think about. For him it meant making an effort to put his feelings into words for you, even when it didn’t come easily or naturally.

“Putting up with you,” he says, voice low, “is one of my favorite things to do.”

You go absolutely silent, but you squeeze him a little tighter. You know it doesn’t come effortlessly for Yoongi to be verbally sentimental – he shows his love in a million little ways every day, but this kind of thing means he put in a concentrated effort, made a choice to try and give you what you need. You’re flooded with gratitude, overcome with appreciation for his willingness to try for you.

“Well, now I really don’t want you to leave,” you grumble into his chest. He laughs fully, shoulders shaking and smile showing his gums.

“The sooner you let me go,” he reasons, “the sooner I can come home again.”

“I’d rather you not go at all,” you say. He glances at the clock and gives your arms two quick pats, indicating that he really needs to make some moves now, and your allotted bothering time is up. Sighing, you release your hold on him, making to go back to your spot on the couch. Your coffee has probably cooled by now.

You’re about to step away when Yoongi reaches and pulls you back, wrapping you in one last hug before he has to start hustling to get out the door on time. You sink against him, eyes closing. You’re back to being comfy – so comfy.

[4:19 pm]

“jisung, truth or dare?” mark’s slightly slurred voice turns everyone’s attention towards the youngest boy as he scoffs at the sudden attention.

his hand brushes through his brown locks before answering quite smugly, “dare.”

“i dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.”

this swipes the smugness on jisung’s face clean off. his eyes almost immediately connects with yours. you see the nervousness in them as he clears his throat, slowly shifting closer towards where you’re seated.

“just tell me if this is okay.” his soft whisper reaches your ears as he timidly reaches to cup your cheek in his hand.

you smile, momentarily forgetting about the rest of your friends sitting around you, “it’s perfectly fine.”

this causes jisung’s lips to curl up into a slight smirk. softly, his lips press onto yours. your world spins even more as his thumb moves to brush against your skin.

“dude, look at his ears!”

mark giggles and it breaks you both apart, jisung can’t seem to meet your eyes as he shifts back to his seat.

“hyung!”

request for established relationship!mark pls where reader comforts him while he’s in quarantine and reassuring him about the whole tds2 situation :((((

omg omg this is so !! i feel so bad for the dreamies, and i really hope they were able to find their own comforts through this situation :( thank you for the req op ! i hope you enjoy < 3

warning/s : hurt / comfort, sobbing!mark :(

you are enough — lmh.

in which you being there for him was simply all he needed.

“baby? what’s going on?”

your tired voice filters through mark’s phone. he hears the confusion and exhaustion clearly even though he’s not with you physically. he tried to look for any sign of annoyance in your voice but—

“mark? are you there?” your continuous sincere concern could’ve brought him to his knees.

a sob rips through his lips, “y/n—“

and it was as if a bucket of ice cold water was dumped right on you. your eyes widen as you hurriedly sit up with your phone pressed to your ear.

“baby, hey. why’re you crying?” your tone is light as mark listens to the ruffles of your sheets. he faintly hears you moving about before his screen lights up with a notification.

y/n <3 is requesting to video call with you!

a small smile tugs itself onto his lips as he hesitantly presses the camera icon on his phone. he’s wearing a black jacket with the hoodie up and despite him only showing half his face, you could tell that he’d been crying for a while before calling you.

“there’s my favorite boy. what’s going on, hmm?” your face was illuminated by the yellow light of your lamp. your hair was a mess and your eyes were so so tired, but all mark could do was sob even more at the love and concern you had for him that seemed to overpower anything else.

you watch as his face crumples, his head tilting lower so you wouldn’t see him.

“i-i just feel like i’ve disappointed them, our fans.” hearing his pained voice even just through your phone was excruciating. you wished of nothing more than to hold him in your arms.

“they’ve been waiting so long—we’ve been waiting so long. the guys and i have been practicing so hard and yet i just had to go and mess things up—“

“hey, hey. none of that now.” your gentle voice stops his spiralling thoughts as he stares at you through his phone. he sees the light frown you now have on your face and how you’ve started so pout a little at the conversation you two are having.

“you didn’t mess things up, okay? these things happen for a reason. no one’s disappointed in you—especially your fans. they love and care for you so much and prioritize your health just as much as the guys and i do.”

he watches as you smile gently at him, “have you opened twitter? everyone’s wishing you a speedy recovery. not one person is saying anything about being disappointed in you.”

your words were slowly putting his heart at ease. he was always surprised at the way you seemed to be able to calm his heart down no matter how far you seemed to be from him.

“i love you, my sweet boy. and they do too. we all just want you to get better and we know you’ll be able to come back even better than ever!” your giggles fill his quiet room as you imitate his opening performance of ‘beatbox’.

“i love you so much, my y/n.” he whispers into the phone, more tears pricking at his eyes—but now, they were because of your abundant love for him.

your smile warms his heart, the look in your eyes was something he wished to cherish forever. “i’m sorry i can’t be there with you.”

mark immediately shakes his head, his eyes shining towards you.

“your presence is more than enough for me.”

—

rather short !! but i hope you enjoyed this nonetheless op ! :DDD

— 1 missed call from [Name] —

Realistically, he knows he shouldn’t call you back. Ignore the missed call, head back to bed, and forgot you forever. Forget the romance you once shared and move on. Forgot all the words of love that ever left his lips. You are not his and he is not yours.

But he can’t. He can’t possibly ignore you when you’re calling him at 2AM, yearning for him in whatever way you do.

So he calls. Like the fool that he is, he calls his ex-girlfriend of one year back.

“Hello?”

“Tsukishima…” you trail, and your voice is distant. So far, so small, so fearful. He hears your hesitance from one word only.

He wishes you could call him your Kei again.

“Why did you call me?” Tsukishima responds with hostility, for that is all he knows. When he lost you, his ways changed and his heart turned to stone. It seems that anger is all he knows these days, a hard tongue made of venom and stone.

“I-I wanted to talk to you.”

You stutter. You stutter and Tsukishima knows that you’re drunk. You have a few habits whenever you’re intoxicated, and a stutter is always accompanied with the alcohol.

“You’re drunk,” is all he says.

“I know.”

“Talk to me when you’re sober,” he goes to cut the call, but a quick wait! is enough to halt his movements.

“God, I don’t even know why I even called you,” you whisper, as if speaking to yourself.

He sighs, “where are you?”

“Um, I’m not sure.”

“You went out not knowing where you’re going?” He asks, and it’s that condescending tone you hate. The one that pushed your relationship to its limit.

“It’s not like I wanted to be here,” you whisper yet again, a measly attempt at defending yourself.

Another sigh, another sign of disappointment, and Tsukishima finally speaks up.

“Go to the Maps app.” You mumble a small okay, and do as he tells you. “Now zoom in on your location and send it to me.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

You listen to him and soon after Tsukishima gets a notification. He doesn’t bid you goodbye, simply cuts the call and gets up from his bed. He heads for his closet, grabbing two jackets, and heads out the door.

He’ll see you for the first time in a year.

-

And see you he does.

You’re sat on the curb of the road, your knees pushed against your chest and your head resting on your knees. It seems as if you’re asleep, your eyes closed and body still.

He kneels beside you, whispering your name loud enough to wake you up.

“Huh?” You groan, turning your head to look at the man you can’t seem to let go. “Kei?”

There it is. It’s always sounded so sweet on your tongue, so sultry and intimate. It’s his given name, the one he grows to love each time you say it.

It’s bittersweet hearing it from you.

“Why are you just sleeping in the middle of the road? What if some pervert stopped by?”

“But nobody did,” you say, logic leaving you in your drunken state. You move closer to him, seeking his warmth.

You’ve always loved his touch. When you once called him yours, his body was always somehow attached to yours. Your skin on his, his heart in your palm.

He sighs, “get in the car, [Name].”

He pulls you up from your position, easily holding you as gently as he can.

“You never used to call me by my name,” you stop and lean into his shoulder. “I was always your baby.”

Tsukishima knows it’s the alcohol talking. That you’d never say this sober, and that there’s a possibility that you don’t mean any of those words. But his heart still hurts. It hurts so much that he feels as if he has lost himself. Lost all the progress he made to just get over you.

(But perhaps he never really stopped loving you, if he was so willing to pick up your call.)

He lays you on the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt for you. He drapes the extra jacket over your shoulders, and you remember it to be one of your favourites. You stare at him the whole time—eyes on his—but he refuses to look back. Not when he knows how easily his resolve could crumble with you around.

The car starts soon after, and you’re already asleep. Your head lays peacefully on the mirror, and Tsukishima wishes he could stay like this forever. In a world where he is yours and you are his.

-

There are not many things that Tsukishima regrets.

He prefers to live in the present and let the past be the past. What has happened is unchanging, so why worry? Why worry about what he should’ve done, when all he has is the now?

There are not many things that Tsukishima regrets. But he will always regret leaving you.

He knows that now, as he is in your bedroom, trying to find a way to change you out of your clothes and into your sleepwear.

You’ve always been a heavy sleeper, unmoving in the midst of all noise. That trait carries on to now, as he struggles to get your top off your body.

You squirm as he touches you. “Kei,” you whisper. “Why’d you pick me up?”

“You called me.”

“But you picked up,” you slur, “you could’ve ignored me. You were good at that when we were together.”

He winces. He knows you don’t mean it. You’ve always been far too kind to respond with such malice, especially towards him. Even when your relationship was walking on a tightrope, you never once yelled at him.

“Why were you so mean, Tsukishima?” It’s a rhetorical question, he knows it, but his heart burns the more you speak.

“I loved you so much, but you didn’t love me at all.”

“Don’t,” he immediately interrupts, “don’t say I never loved you.”

“You never showed me,” your voice is small, and he knows you’re about to cry. (Even after all these months, your habits remain in his mind.)

“I love you. So much more than you’ll ever understand,” he speaks with so much passion, that he forgets his confession.

He loves you. His heart will always belong to you.

“I love you too,” you cry, and a single teardrop grazes your cheek.

“You never deserved me.”

“I get to decide that,” you grab his delicate face with your rough hands. He always fit so perfectly in your palms. “I get to decide who is good for me.”

He pauses, resting in your hands and cherishing every moment he has with you. And it’s in your calloused palms where Tsukishima realises what he misses. He misses your presence, your love, you. Every habit that made him love you so deeply, he misses.

He will be yours again, he decides, as you hold him close. Somehow, someway, he will win you back.

he makes you insecure

Yoongi x f!reader

Genre: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort

WC: 3.5k

<series masterlist>

taglist: @awinkies @wedarkacademia @yiyi4657 @astralandcosmos @scuzmunkie @mooonlitstars @manchuria @joondiary @ygimsgw @royallyjjk @yoongititss @mwitsmejk @kitty-kair @blissedjoon @vrittivsanghavi @kimahnjung98​

tw: unhealthy eating habits, bad body image

nothing too detailed but just bc this can be a very sensitive topic to some!! that being said, im not trying to romanticize unhealthy eating habits or anything like that. as someone who has struggled with these things, fics like these hit a little close to home. but that’s what makes them all the more comforting to me and i hope this fic will have the same effect for anyone that also may also relate. plz be kind to yourself and your body, it’s beautiful and does so much for u!! lots of love, take care 💜💜

Coming off the stage, the soreness of Yoongi’s shoulder becomes harder to ignore as the high of finishing yet another successful concert starts to wear off. After the long hours of practice and leaving it all on the stage, it all seems to catch up to him all at once as he keeps his head down to hide his grimace.

As soon as Yoongi steps foot backstage, he’s immediately knocked back a few steps as you run into his chest. “You were amazing!” you breathe out as you wrap your arms around his neck, engulfing him in a warm hug. Wrapping his good arm around your waist and hiding his face in the crook of your neck, Yoongi grits his teeth and breathes in your comforting scent to help him bear the pain.

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