#december saw no peace for me...

[fitzs-space]

Look who snuck their way into the @hermitpostzine boys!

Here's The front and the back I got to do for Tango's postcard. And hey, If you like the work you are able to get a pack of postcards for yourself Right here! all of the profits from sales are being donated right to Gamers Outreach, and the more orders that get placed, the more stretch goals that can be hit!!

Go get some for yourself!!

A solid project to be apart of even If I was scrambling to finish everything after I finished my projects for my fall semester,,, Shout out to the mods for dealing with me

[liquidcatt]

He likes to watch you while you sleep. Not in a creepy way, but more of how peaceful you look. As he lays in bed, he notices the little things you did while you slept. The way you were hugging your large, gray pillow as if holding a cloud against your body. Or how your cheek was squished up against the soft surface, rubbing it into the fabric. Not to mention how serene you looked with your eyes closed. You had no reason to worry because you were safe in your warm bed with your boyfriend, and he knew this. And oh wouldn’t he give to have you cling onto him instead. Wouldn’t he give to have you listen to his gentle heartbeat against your ear as you slept? He sees a tiny smile form on your face; whatever you were dreaming at that moment was enough for him to smile as well. It didn’t take long for his eyes to start feeling heavy, silently thanking whatever deity was listening for him to finally sleep. As he closed his eyes, he hoped the first thing he saw in his dreams was you.

Hinata, Kenma, Kuroo, Sugawara, Osamu, Tsukishima, Bokuto, Asahi (+ your fav)

a/n: I apologize to everyone who followed me for my HQ! posts, but I've had intense writer's block since December and my current hyperfixation is Gravity Falls (please give it a watch if you haven't seen it), but I will get back to writing. Thank you for understanding.

[thesparkling-diamond27]

Dancing Through Life

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

Summary: Y/n Upperland of the Upper Uplands, cousin to Galinda Upand, doesn’t have a problem with Fiyero Tigelaar, but that doesnt’t mean that she wants him around. However, after one simple walk with the Winkie Prince, Y/n discovers that he’s not so bad after all.

A/n: hi hi! I’m back with a Fiyero one shot, but that doesn’t mean that I’ve forgotten about the second Bridgerton and I. I’ve written two chapters so far over thanksgiving break and I might try to squeeze in one more chapter or at least half of one before I go back to school. I don’t really have enough time to write when I am at school, so the next time I’ll probably get back to writing during Christmas break which is in a couple weeks. Then I’ll finish the Bridgerton and I and I’m thinking about waiting to finish the Bridgerton and I completely before posting any more chapters, so the ff will probably be finished in December. I wrote this one shot because Wicked has been on my mind 24/7 and I can write whatever comes to mind, but for the Bridgerton and I have to sit down and rewatch Bridgerton episodes so that I can make sure I get all the words exactly right. I hope you guys continue to be patient as I try to finish it :).

I have recently seen the movie Wicked and plan to see 10 million more times because it is SO GOOD. Wicked is basically my whole personality at this point. I was already obsessed with Fiyero, but Jonathan Bailey as Fiyero made my obsession worse (but in a good way :)). And with this obsession comes a Jonathan Bailey Fiyero Tigelaar one shot. I hope you enjoy!! I also have a plan to write another one so stay tuned for that!

It was a beautiful day today, so after class I decided to read at my favorite spot: the bench under the oak tree. I loved it here because it was a peaceful place where I never got disturbed. Or so I thought.

I realized he was near when I heard the sound of boots stepping onto grass. It was only when his shadow blocked the words on the page that I finally looked up.

Fiyero looked down on me with curious eyes, but there was still a charming smile plastered on his face. I tried to hide how his smile affected me, but he must have noticed the change in my demeanor because his smile turned into a smirk.

I thought after my cousin Galinda introduced him to my brother and I earlier today would be the last time I saw him for the day. It appears the Winkie prince had other plans.

“Well what is Miss Upland doing under the oak tree?” He asked.

“Reading.” I held up my book for effect before I continued back to where I left off.

I saw him take a seat beside me on the bench in the corner of my eye.

“It’s Friday.” He continued.

I rolled my eyes. “I know. I can read calendars.” Fiyero chuckled at my blunt and snippy responses. He could clearly tell that I was annoyed by his presence, but he continued to talk anyway.

“It’s Friday and you are here reading under an oak tree. You should be out there having fun.” He used his hands to gesture to all the other students hanging out at the courtyard.

“This is fun to me.”

“School work is fun?”

“Well for your information this book is not for school it’s for me.”

“Well I believe you are filling your head with too many things. You’re thinking too much.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Well that’s not surprising coming from a prince like you.”

“A prince like me?” Fiyero gave a feigned pained expression. “I’m hurt that you would think that way about me.”

“Well I believe that you present yourself as self-absorbed and deeply shallow, but I don’t think you are. I think you use that as a front to hide the fact that you actually care and have thoughts.”

“Excuse me there’s no pretense here. I happen to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow.”

“Okay.” I said not believing him. I shut my book and stood from the bench. I finished the book I was reading and decided to go search for another one to read.

“Well I guess it was nice talking to you.”

I began to walk back to my room, but he blocked my path.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to my room to find another book.”

“Oh come on. Drop the book for once and have some fun.”

“No.”

I pushed past him and walked away without looking back. I was hoping he would leave me alone after that, but luck was not on my side today.

“Since you’re going back to your room, maybe I can save you the trouble of carrying your book all the way back.”

He grabbed the book from my hand before I could say anything.

“Hey give that back!”

I tried to grab the book back, but he raised the book above my head, so that I couldn’t reach and jumping up was no use. Fiyero was laughing at me struggling, so I sighed in defeat.

“Fine. You can help me carry my singular book up to my room.”

Fiyero was happy with my response because he was smiling from ear to ear. We were now standing nose to nose and I could feel his breath fan across my face. If I looked down I would have perfect access to his lips. Wait what was I thinking? I quickly backed away from him before I did anything stupid. Fiyero smiled down at me and said, “See now that wasn’t so hard now was it? Lead the way princess.”

I would he lying if I said I didn’t get affected by his words. Butterflies filled my stomach and I probably would have melted if I didn’t catch myself. What is wrong with me?

“Princess?”

“Yes princess. It suits you. Princess of the Upper Upperlands.” He said with a dramatic voice.

I was about to retaliate when a certain blondey came to mind.

“Shouldn’t you be calling Galinda princess?” I asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you two are a thing.”

Fiyero chuckled. “I just met her this morning and besides I’m like this with everyone.”

My heart sunk at his words. So he was just treating me like everyone else? But why was I so upset about it? Just a few hours ago I wanted nothing to do with him and now I was disappointed that he’s not treating me differently.

“And if I called her princess then I wouldn’t be able to call you princess. Princess.” He said with a wink.

That definitely lifted my spirits. Sweet Oz! He was making feel a roller coaster of emotions. I could tell there will never be a dull moment with him.

I gave him a small smile but I looked down on the floor to hide it from him. I didn’t want him to notice that I started to warm up to him, but he saw the slight upturn of my lips.

“Well who knew that Miss Upland could smile. It’s a miracle!”

“Oh shut up!” I said, but you could hear the grin in my voice.

“Besides reading, what do you really do for fun?” I looked up at Fiyero and could tell that he truly wanted to know my genuine answer. So it seems that my premonition about him not being self-absorbed and deeply shallow was true.

“Umm…spending time with friends, swimming. Oh there’s a lake in the Upper Upperlands that my family and I go to every summer to cool off and it has such beautiful scenery. Not to mention the nearby ice cream shop…”

I stopped after I realized that I blabbered on. “I’m sorry I sort of got carried away.”

I looked up at Fiyero, but he didn’t seem bothered at all with my tangent. He actually seemed rather interested with what I had to say.

“No continue.” He said with an encouraging smile.

“No I’d rather not.”

I know he wanted to hear more, but he didn’t push me, which I was glad for. I was a little embarrassed with my little outburst.

“Well how about you discover a new way to have fun?” Fiyero said changing the subject.

“How?”

“Come with me to the Ozdust Ballroom tonight. The most swankified place in town.”

“Aren’t we not supposed to be off campus after dark?”

“Yes, but not being allowed to leave after dark makes it more fun!”

“I’ll pass.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“I left her at home.”

Fiyero paused before he burst into laughter.

“My joke wasn’t that funny.” But I couldn’t help but laugh along with Fiyero.

Fiyero paused again.“Your laugh.”

I took a few moments to recompose myself before asking, “What about my laugh?”

“It’s beautiful.”

I stopped walking and choked on air.

“What?” I asked, but Fiyero ignored me.

“Which way is your room?”

I realized that we have reached the dead end which separated into two hallways.

“This way.” I said as I begin to walk to the right. I walked a little faster to make this walk shorter. I have embarrassed myself way too many times in a such a short amount of time and I just wanted to smash my pillow in my face and scream. The rest of the way was silent until we reached my door.

“Well here we are. My humble abode.” I said. “Thank you for the uh…walk.”

“It was my pleasure. I hope to see you tonight at the Ozdust ballroom Miss Upland.

“Y/n.”

Fiyero smiled at my response.

“Y/n. I hope to see you tonight.”

I opened the door and was about to walk in, but I turned around instead.

“I know you like to put on the facade that you are this Winkie prince who doesn’t have a care in the world, but you’re also human. Yes you might be self-absorbed and shallow, but that’s not all of you and you have thoughts that should be shared. If you take away your crowd of admirers you’ll be left with the real you. If you want to continue with this role in front of everyone then that’s fine…,but you don’t have to be that way with me.”

Fiyero’s expression was unreadable, but I could have sworn I saw flickers of fear and appreciation.

“Y/n…I don’t know what to say.”

His hands fell to his sides and I realized that he still had my book. I slowly inched towards his hand and pulled the book from his grasp. But before I pulled away I took his hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You don’t have to say anything.” I said with a smile.

He nodded and with one last squeeze I pulled away and slowly closed the door shut.

—————————

I laid in my bed, for what seemed like hours, contemplating whether I should go to the Ozdust ballroom or not. I turned to my night stand to see that it’s only been a half hour. I groaned in frustration and covered my face with my pillow. Then I heard a knock at the door. I rose from my bed and opened it to see my brother Ezra.

“You. Me. Ozdust. Tonight.” He said as he entered my room.

“You know about that too?” I said as I shut the door.

“How do you know about it?” He asked curiously.

“I was invited.” I said as I plopped onto my bed. Ezra raised an eyebrow at my words and joined me.

“You were invited?! I wasn’t even invited! Who invited you?”

“So how do you know about it?” I asked avoiding what he asked me.

“I overheard some students talking about it, but don’t avoid the question. Who invited you?”

“Fiyero.”

Ezra’s eyebrows shot up to the ceiling.

“Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country? But you hate him.”

“I don’t hate him! Where did you get that impression.”

“When Galinda introduced us to him you didn’t seem to be too pleased with him.”

I thought back to the first impression I had of Fiyero when I first met him.

When he first stood in front of me I took a good look at him and he was exactly what I expected from a Winkie prince. He was dressed to the nines from head to toe. You could tell his blue jacket and pants were made to perfection and the gold accents were sewn with precision. His black polished boots were so shiny that you could even see your own reflection in them. And that was just his clothes.

Fiyero had an aura about him. It was as if he believed he always had to be the center of attention. Reminds me of someone that I know, but I know that Galinda has a heart. It was too soon to tell if he genuinely cares, but by the way he acted and the way the students nearby looked at him, I could already tell that his way of life to everyone else was fake.

Then he approached me later on in the day and I got to know him a little more. I soon realized that he wasn’t all so bad by himself. It was only when he was around everyone else where his walls come up and he acts out his facade.

“I guess I had a change of heart.” I finally answered.

“Uh huh. And how did Fiyero even get the chance to talk to you. The only way that can happen is if you two hung out alone.” Ezra said teasingly as he wiggled his eyebrows. I laughed at his antics.

“Fiyero might have interrupted my peaceful reading time earlier today and I got to know him a little more.”

“Oh?!”

“And before you say anything else there was nothing else to it. He offered to walk me back to my room and that’s when he invited me to the Ozdust ballroom. On our walk back I got to know him a little better and he’s not so bad by himself.”

“Hmm hmm.”

“Nothing else happened!”

“Hey I said nothing!” Ezra said as he lifted his hands to the sides of his face in defense. “But this means that you’re coming!”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“Why-“

“But I didn’t say no either. I’m still thinking about my answer.”

Ezra looped his arm with mine.

“Now I’m forcing you to come because I’m coming and I’m not going to have you sit pathetically in your room.”

“I’m not going to—“

“Ah uh. I won’t take no for an answer. And don’t say you don’t have anything to wear. Your wardrobe is almost as grand and big as Galinda’s.”

Ezra did have a point. I worried about my appearance and wardrobe just as much as Galinda, but I didn’t flaunt it as much as my cousin did.

“Come on.” Ezra grabbed my hands and pulled me up from my bed. He led me to one of my luggage’s that turned into a closet with the push of a button. Ezra pushed the button and pushed me towards my array of dresses.

“Well go on.” He prompted.

I stumbled upon the rack and begin to flip through my choices until I came across a dress that brought a smile to my face.

—————————

Ezra and I missed the boat that Galinda and Fiyero went on, so we arrived at the Ozdust ballroom a little later. I peeked over the corner and was in awe with what I saw.

The entrance of the ballroom had a ginormous staircase which led to the dance floor. At the end of the room was where a band of animals were playing the music. On the ceiling schools of fish were dancing in formation to the beat of the music. That’s when I realized that this ballroom was underwater. That was something I’ve never seen before.

Ezra and I began to walk down the staircase and I began to notice a lot of familiar faces from school.

“Do people come here often?” I asked Ezra. He first attended Shiz last year, so he had a whole year of experience before I came along.

“I would say so. It’s where most people go over the weekend, but this is the first time I’ve ever gone.”

I looked at him shocked. “Really?!”

“Yeah. I’ve never been invited and I’ve always wanted to go, but I never knew how to get here until I overheard those two girls talking today.”

“Well today’s your lucky day!” I said with a smile.

“Indeed it is.” He said with a chuckle. “Oh I see some of my friends I invited over there. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Yeah I will. Galinda should be around here somehere.”

“And Fiyero.” Ezra said with a glint of mischievousness.

“Yeah him too.”

Ezra laughed before he walked over to his two friends. Now I was left alone to fend for myself. I noticed a drink table on the side of the dance floor, so I made my way over there.

I had no idea what was in the glass, but it tasted quite good. I sipped quietly off to the side when I noticed a familiar figure approach me.

“Well if it isn’t Miss Upland.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

“Alright then. Princess.”

“Y/n.” I corrected him

“Princess Y/n.”

I figured it would be pointless so I gave up trying to correct him.

“I was almost starting to think you weren’t going to show up. What made you change your mind? Me?”

“Don’t be so full of yourself Fiyero. My brother forced me to come.”

“Aww so I can’t go around telling people that you’re my date tonight?”

I nearly choked on my drink, but I managed to regain my composure.

“Not a chance.”

“What a shame and to think I was going to ask you to dance.”

“I didn’t say no to that.” I said with a teasing smile. Fiyero looked shocked and glad that I was finally playing his game.

“Since you say so, I’ll just take this.”

Fiyero grabbed the drink from my hand and downed the rest of it before setting it on the table.

“Shall we?” He extended out his hand for me to take. I didn’t say anything, but I accepted his hand and he led me to the dance floor.

He began to twirl and whirl me around to the beat of the music and I found a couple laughs slip from my mouth. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time and I couldn’t believe that Fiyero of all people was making that happen.

One by one Galinda, Ezra, and his friends joined us as well. It was great to not care about the trivial things in life and simply dance through life as Fiyero likes to put it.

At one point the band slowed down the tempo of the music to a slower one and Fiyero gave me a knowing look. I looked back at Ezra and he winked at me before walking off the dance floor with his friends. I turned back to Fiyero and grabbed his hand. He gave me a beaming smiling, put his hands on my hips and began to move me across the ballroom floor.

“You know I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier today.” He said.

“About?” But I had an inkling about what he was talking about.

“About me pretending in front of everyone else.” I simply nodded and waited for him to continue.

“I guess I started doing it in order to hide my true depth of character. It was a way for me navigate the superficial social circles and get the chance to meet powerful people. I’ve done it for so long that I forgot what it’s like to just be me, but you were the first person to ever see through that.”

I took a moment to take in his words. It must have been exhausting to keep up that facade for so long. I felt bad for Fiyero. The fact that he felt the need to live like that.

“Well like I said you don’t have to pretend with me. I want to know the real Fiyero Tigelaar. Do you think you can manage to do that?”

“I can for you.”

Under normal circumstances I would have collapsed right then and there there, but that would do either of us no good. Fiyero had just finished telling me something he’s never spoken out loud before and I have to be the support he needs.

He twirled me around once more before pulling me right back into his arms. Then he brought his mouth up to my ear and whispered changing the subject.

“You look beautiful princess. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you tonight. I must say that blue is definitely your color. You are hands down the most beautiful one here.”

“I don’t think so.” I said as I looked down at the floor bashfully.

Fiyero grabbed my chin with his finger and brought my face up to look up at him.

“I beg to differ.” He grabbed a strand of my hair and pulled it back behind my ear. I felt his breath against my ear and shivers traveled down my spine. No boy has ever gave me as much attention as Fiyero has and I was at a loss with what to do. But in a strange way I knew exactly what to do, which is why I was bold enough to try something.

“Can I tell you a secret?” I whispered in his ear.

Fiyero looked confused, but he nodded anyway. I stood up on my tiptoes and went up to his ear, but at the very last second I grabbed his face and connected his lips with mine.

At first he didn’t responded, and I got so scared I got the message wrong, so I almost pulled away. However, he soon reciprocated the kiss and placed one hand firmly on my waist and the other framing my face. The kiss started simple, but then it became more intense. I would have kept on going, but then I remembered where we were.

I pulled away and looked around to see my brother looking at me with a knowing look as if he was saying I told you so. He mouthed, “And you said there was nothing else to it.”

“Shut up.” I mouthed back.

“Do you want to take this somewhere else? Away from the public eye.” Fiyero asked.

I looked up at his blue eyes and thought about being alone with Fiyero. Being able to hold him and kiss him to my hearts desire. I nodded with a smile.

Fiyero smiled back and interlocked our hands. Together the both of us walked out of the Ozdust ballroom without a care in the world and we simply danced through life.

[pitchsidestories]

seasons of love II Kika Nazareth x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1332

summary: Kika loves Christmas ever since she was a child unlike Reader who isn’t a big fan of it. requested

author's note: dear readers, we hope you'll like the fanfic.It can be read as a standalone or as part two of when grumpy met sunshine. 💛🩷

Ever since she was a small girl, Kika loved Christmas. As the time gone by her love for it grew only deeper, the presents may get less exciting to her over the years, but she cherished the time spend with family and friends at the end of the year.

That’s why even though it was only the start of December parts of the Barcelona team decided to bake some Christmas cookies. The kitchen already smelt heavenly of chocolate, coconut and vanilla and everyone was in a gleeful mood. Seconds earlier the Portuguese woman lit the candles on the table sending a cozy, warm light while the darkness had set on Barcelona.

“Oh my god, Vicky, thanks to you the flour is everywhere.”, Ingrid scolded half-heartedly, her lips formed to a pout.

“Ingrid, it’s fine.”, Kika assured her.

“And it wasn’t me!”, Vicky protested smirking.

“Yes, I saw Mapi doing it.”, Ellie joined the young player’s defence.

“What? I didn’t do anything.”, Mapi interjected, but her laugh was giving away that she was involved in the flour incident.

“Sure, Maria.”, commented Ona chuckling.

Suddenly the joyful banter was interrupted by your angry sounding voice.

“What the hell, so much chaos, Francisca!”

“We’re just baking.”, your girlfriend explained nervously.

“You better clean up this mess later.”, you told her before storming off into your bedroom.

“Oh, someone’s in a bad mood.”, Mapi noted whistling.

“Grumpy apparently doesn’t like the Christmas season.”, Vicky observed.

“She doesn’t hate it, but she also doesn’t care much for it.”, Kika corrected her.

“How can one not love it?”, Ingrid frowned confused.

“I don’t know, ask her.”, she shrugged.

“The first cookies are done. Maybe she would like to try them.”, the older Spanish defender responded with an encouraging smile on her lips.

“Take the pretty ones that are already decorated.”, Vicky suggested in a friendly tone.

“Who wants to do the talking?”, the Portuguese striker asked.

“You’re obviously doing it.”, Vicky shook her head grinning.

“Wish me, luck.”, Kika sighed. Cautiously she stepped into the bedroom you two shared. The young woman whispered your name softly, trying her best to not resurrect the anger you’ve shown when you returned home.

“What?”, you questioned frustrated, moving your eyes away from the book in your hands to your girlfriend’s dark chocolate brown eyes.

“Sorry, we made a mess in the kitchen. Would you like to try some cookies?”, Kika apologized, sitting down on the bed. The delicious scent of the food filling up the room, even you weren’t immune to that small magic.

“Today was a lot and then I came home to the chaos.”, you began.

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re almost done, and we’ll clean everything up. I promise.”, your girlfriend swore.

“Thank you.”, you muttered gratefully, taking your first bite of the Christmas cookie which tasted just as good as it smelt.

For a moment there was a peaceful quietness transcending between you. In the background you could hear the cheerful laughter from your teammates in the kitchen.

“Do you want to talk about it more or would you liked to be left alone?”, Kika asked careful.

You heaved a sigh and shook your head: “No, we can talk. You shouldn’t think that I’m a monster that hates Christmas entirely.“

Kikas eyes softened as she studied your face: “I know you don’t hate it. You just don’t like it as much as I do and that’s okay.“

You nodded, swallowing hard before taking another bite of your cookie so you didn’t have to answer. Only after you chewed quietly for a while, you changed the topic: “The cookies are delicious by the way.“

“Glad you like them.“, your girlfriend smiled gently at you.

“You girls did a good job.“, you chuckled.

“Thanks.“

You took another deep breath to brace yourself: “It’s just that not all family Christmases are like the ones in the movies, you know?”

“Oh.“ Kika said. You didn’t even had to explain, she just seemed to understand immediately.

“I just don’t know what it feels like…“

The frown on your girlfriends face deepened: “That’s why you don’t care much for Christmas?”

“Yeah, that’s my little sad sob story about it.“, you nodded. Instead of looking at her, you drew patterns with your fingers on the blanket.

“It’s not sad.“, Kika said determinedly while reaching for your hand. As you looked at her as got up from the bed, pulling you with her.

“Wait, what are you doing?”, you laughed nervously.

Her eyes lit up while she explained: “I’ll show you how nice Christmas can also be.“

“That’s disgustingly sweet of you.“

“Disgustingly?”, she echoed slightly offended but undeterredly dragged you towards the kitchen.

Her teammates were still busy baking, chatting quietly while Christmas music played in the background. The display was much more peaceful than twenty minutes prior.

“She’s back!”, Mapi beamed once she spotted you and Kika standing in the door.

“I’m back and I brought someone who wants to help decorate cookies.“, your girlfriend announced.

Ellie smiled politely at you and pulled a chair closer to her and Ona who were in charge of the cookie decorations: “Always good to have another person here who’s artistic too.“

Ona narrowed her eyes at the goalkeeper: “Ellie, excuse me? What are you trying to say about my beautiful art pieces?!”

Looking at the cookies in front of the defender, you had to admit that you definitely wouldn’t post them on Instagram.

Ellie shrugged innocently: “Nothing. Just that yours are the cookies we should eat first.“

“Wow. Rude.“, Ona complained but didn’t sound offended.

You bit back a laugh and started to help with icing the cookies.

A bright smile was on Kika’s face which could light up every cold and dark winter day while she declared. “Girls, the hot chocolates are ready.”

“With Marshmallows?”, Vicky asked in an excited tone.

“That’s so cliché.”, you playfully hit the upper arm of the Portuguese woman.  

“Maybe it’s, but the love around here is real.”, Ingrid admitted with a dreamy look in her green eyes.

“Don’t overdo it, Ingrid.”, you warned her grimacing at the sweet words which came out of the Norwegians mouth.

“I think she’s cute.”, Mapi defended her girlfriend looking up to her in awe.

“Of course you do.”, you chuckled amused.

“Just saying.”, the Spanish defender shrugged.

“Kika?”, you called your lover’s name.

“Yes, meu amor?”

“This is so stupid.”, you whispered into Kika’s ear, her arms wrapped around your wait.

She looked at you with a sad expression on her face. “You don’t like it.”, the forward realized.

“But at least it’s stupid with nice people.”, you added in a warm tone, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek which immediately turned into a soft red underneath your touch.

The cozy atmosphere was interrupted by Vicky’s curses. “Oh shit, the cookies burned!”

“Typical.”, you smiled at her mildly.

“Don’t worry, we still got enough Christmas cookies for everyone to take home with them.”, Ingrid reassured her teammates immediately.

After they all left, Kika leaned with her back on the wall, glancing expectantly as well as delighted at you like the once excited child she was: “And?”

“And, what?”, you returned her question teasingly.

“Do you like Christmas a bit more?”, your girlfriend wanted to know while you made your way to her.

“Hmm let me think about that.”, you replied. When you stopped right in front of her you noticed with a cheeky smile. “You still have a bit of whipped cream on your upper lip.” Gently you kissed the white foam away, the kiss sweet like the hot chocolate itself.

“Thanks.”, Kika smirked.

“You’re welcome and yes Christmas with friends is quite nice.”, you stated.

“See, that’s also one way to celebrate Christmas.”

“Yes, I like that.”, you nodded smiling in your girlfriends embrace.

Thanks to her help you learned that the season of love could be about friendship and spending meaningful time with the people which truly were special to you.

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

💗 if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated ! 💗

[estellesdoll]

𖥨 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ▸ ִֶָ. 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 : overwhelmed with guilt over a small accident, y/n learns Matt’s love is stronger than her insecurities.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 : bf!matt x fem!reader

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : mentions of periods, brief self-doubt and insecurity, fluff, angst

𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 : yes.

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 : 1.8k

౨ৎ𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ౨ৎ𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 |

| ౨ৎ𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | ౨ৎ𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 : I'm looking forward to receiving more requests from you! Don’t forget to choose an emoji if you’d like to remain anonymous, so I can recognize if you’ve sent me a request before. I hope you enjoy the content, and thank you so much for your support. December is officially here! Remember, I'll be posting daily Christmas or winter-themed content.

🧑‍🎄🎄🎁 : Christmas Masterlist

The faint rustling of leaves outside Matt’s bedroom window was the only sound as you curled up under his blankets, your body sinking into the plush comfort of his bed. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. When Matt left to run errands, you’d only planned to rest for a moment. But the soothing weight of his blankets, the warmth of his scent lingering in the room, and the exhaustion from a long week had coaxed you into slumber.

Your stomach had been aching all morning, the familiar dull cramp signaling what you already suspected. You were used to these quiet discomforts, brushing them off as a part of life. But today, it felt heavier somehow, the ache mingling with an overwhelming tiredness you couldn’t shake.

The week had been long, a swirl of stress that felt endless. But in Matt’s room, surrounded by the little pieces of him—the books on his shelves, the hoodie draped over his chair, the faint cologne in the air—you felt a sense of peace you couldn’t find anywhere else. Here, the world outside could wait.

When you woke, the room was bathed in soft golden light from the late afternoon sun. You stretched slowly, your body stiff from sleep, and rubbed the sleepiness from your eyes. But as you moved to sit up, an unfamiliar dampness beneath you made you freeze.

Your heart dropped. Pulling back the covers, you saw it—the unmistakable stain against the white sheets, stark and unforgiving. A flush of heat rushed to your face as panic gripped you.

Oh no. No, no, no.

You stared at the spot, your mind racing. Matt’s sheets were pristine, like everything else in his room—clean, organized, intentional. And now I’ve ruined them. Shame swelled in your chest, hot and suffocating.

Your hands moved on autopilot, trembling as you stripped the bed and bundled the sheets in your arms. Rationally, you knew Matt wouldn’t care. He wasn’t the kind of person to get upset over something like this. But the embarrassment gnawed at you anyway, making your chest tight and your eyes sting.

In the laundry room, you frantically tried to figure out the washing machine, fumbling with the buttons through a haze of tears. The beep of the machine felt deafening, like it was announcing your mistake to the world. You didn’t want him to see. You didn’t want him to know.

Your mind spiraled as you worked, each thought worse than the last. What if he thought it was gross? What if he thought you were careless? What if this small accident ruined the safe, perfect bubble you’d built with him?

You were so consumed by your panic that you didn’t hear the front door open or the quiet sound of Matt setting his keys on the counter. His footsteps were soft, almost hesitant, as he walked through the house, calling your name.

“Babe? You here?”

His voice, warm and calm as always, carried down the hall. You froze, standing in front of the washing machine with trembling hands. You couldn’t face him like this. Maybe if you stayed quiet, he wouldn’t come in—he wouldn’t see. But as the washing machine beeped under your frantic attempts to figure it out, his footsteps grew closer.

When he appeared in the doorway, his brows furrowed slightly in concern. “Hey,” he said softly, his tone careful, as if he could sense the storm of emotions inside you. “What’s going on?”

You didn’t turn to face him, your shoulders stiff and your chest tight. “Nothing,” you said quickly, your voice small and shaky.

Matt stepped closer, his eyes scanning the room and the sheets clutched in your arms. “Doesn’t sound like nothing,” he said gently. “Why won’t you look at me?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, clutching the bundled sheet tighter against your chest. Your voice wavered as you tried to explain, “I— I got my period... in your bed.” The words came out barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to, but I—I made a mess, and I’m trying to clean it before you—”

Your words caught in your throat, tears welling up as your voice cracked. “I didn’t want you to see it.”

Matt was silent for a moment, and you braced yourself, the shame threatening to swallow you whole. But then you felt him move closer.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice so soft, so tender, it made your heart ache.

Before you could protest, he was gently reaching for the sheet in your hands, setting it aside as if it didn’t matter at all. Then he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears spilling down your cheeks.

“Why are you crying?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching yours.

“Because—because I ruined your sheets, and I didn’t want you to think...” You trailed off, your voice trembling.

“Think what?” he asked, his brow furrowing.

“That it’s gross or... or that I’m gross.” The words came out in a rush, followed by a choked sob that you couldn’t hold back.

Matt’s expression softened instantly, his hands steady on your cheeks as he shook his head. “Oh, baby. No.” His voice was impossibly gentle, full of love. “That’s not what I think at all. Not even a little bit.”

You sniffled, your gaze dropping, but he tilted your chin up so you had to look at him. “Listen to me,” he said softly. “It’s just a period. It’s normal, and it doesn’t bother me. What bothers me is that you were here crying, thinking I’d care about some dumb sheets more than I care about you.”

You blinked up at him, your tears slowing as his words settled over you like a warm blanket. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” He almost laughed, but it was soft, the corners of his lips turning up in a small smile. “Of course not. I just hate that you were upset. You could’ve told me, you know. I would’ve helped you.”

Your chest tightened, but this time, it wasn’t from shame—it was from the overwhelming comfort of his kindness. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything,” Matt said, pulling you into his arms. He held you close, one hand stroking your hair as the other rubbed soothing circles on your back. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

You let yourself melt into him, his warmth easing the tension in your body. He held you like that for a while, not rushing you, just quietly reminding you with every touch and every gentle word that you didn’t have to carry this alone.

Finally, when you pulled back, he kissed your forehead and smiled softly. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s throw the sheets in the wash together, and then I’m tucking you back into bed. You need to rest.”

You hesitated. “But your bed—”

“I don’t care about the bed,” he said, shaking his head. “I care about you. You’re what matters, okay?”

Your eyes stung again, but this time it wasn’t from shame—it was from the overwhelming feeling of being loved so unconditionally.

Matt laced his fingers with yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as he led you back to the washing machine. He made a joke about the machine being unnecessarily complicated, and you found yourself laughing softly, your nerves easing with every step.

When the sheets were finally in the wash, he pulled you back to his room. True to his word, he tucked you under the blankets with the care of someone tending to something precious.

“Stay here,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against your temple. “I’ll be right back.”

When he returned, he was carrying a hot water bottle and your favorite snack, the small gestures making your heart ache with gratitude. “I figured this might help,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes warm.

After a moment, Matt sat up, glancing at you with that soft, thoughtful expression you’d grown to adore. “I know you’re tired,” he said, his voice gentle, “but how about a shower? It might help you feel a little better.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you hesitated.

“Hey,” he interrupted, his hand brushing over yours. “This isn’t about anything other than you taking care of yourself. I’ll get everything ready for you, okay? You don’t have to do a thing.”

You nodded hesitantly, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of water running filled the quiet space, and after a few moments, he came back, his smile soft but encouraging.

“It’s all set,” he said, helping you sit up slowly. “I put one of my clean shirts and some sweats on the counter for you, and there’s a fresh towel. Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

You blinked at him, the lump in your throat returning—not from embarrassment this time, but from the overwhelming care he showed. “Thank you, Matt,” you murmured.

“Always,” he said simply, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

As you stepped into the warm shower, the steam and water washing away the remnants of your stress, you couldn’t stop thinking about how lucky you were to have someone like him. Someone who didn’t just say they cared but showed it in a million quiet, thoughtful ways.

When you emerged, feeling refreshed and wrapped in his soft clothes, Matt was waiting for you on the bed, his arms open and his expression warm. You climbed in beside him, letting him pull you close.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his lips pressing against the top of your head.

“Better,” you whispered, nuzzling into his chest.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice a comforting hum. “Because you’re stuck with me, you know. Messy sheets, cramps, and all. I’m not going anywhere.”

And with his arms wrapped securely around you, you believed him.

﹒◟send me your requests and use an emoji if you want to stay anonymous. 𓂃

@estellesdoll

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @gemzyy

[glamourscat]

ᴘᴀᴏʟᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰʀᴀɴᴄᴇꜱᴄᴀ | Jason Todd x Reader

reader is a magic user | i had this little one shot idea so here it is lol | Jason wasn’t supposed to be here. A quiet Friday night uined by Roy and a magical screw-up. He didn’t expect the too-bright house, the strange group of people, or the girl who walked in holding Dante’s Inferno like it was second nature. You didn’t expect much from the night either, just another mess to clean up. But then there’s him. A stranger who knows your favorite passage before you say it, who looks at you like he’s trying to read every hidden line beneath your words. This is a stroy of two people who met by chance, in the quietness between chaos. And found something in each other they weren’t looking for.

Jason was starstruck.

No, he wasn’t exaggerating. The moment he saw you walk into the room, his eyes widened instinctively. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was your style, uncannily similar to his. Or maybe it was the massive, spray-edged copy of Dante’s Inferno in your hands.

When Roy had said, “Hey man, sooo… I might, hypothetically speaking of course, have set off some magic curse loose and I need to meet with some people who work with magic—but I need you to come with me,” Jason had looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

Not just because it was December, close to Christmas but not quite. Which meant Gotham was a chaos pit and vigilante hours were hellish. But also because this particular Friday night had been, against all odds, a rare moment of peace. Free time. And now it is gone. All thanks to Roy’s persistence.

So here he was. In a questionably loud house with too much pink and too much light. With Roy, for some reason Stephanie and Tim, who showed up uninvited for some reason. And then there was the group that Roy had told him about, but there was one missing. And until they showed up he was stuck in this pink hell for the foreseeable future. 

As Jason stood there, mentally debating the quickest way to disappear without offending anyone, his eyes wandered across the room. The bookshelves caught him first, a huge display of three bookshelves with everything on it. From fantasy to classics, manga and anime figures scattered among them. Whoever lived here had taste. No doubt.

And as he was lost in his thoughts, he almost missed it. The way the group talking to Roy suddenly shifted their attention to the opening front door. You walked in. Poised, calm, like you were used to this. Tired, maybe, but you hid it well thanks to the way you held your head high. You smiled when Stephanie and Tim greeted you with hugs, like a group of old friends reuniting. You welcomed Roy like he hadn’t just dumped another magical disaster on your plate.

And then, your eyes met his.

Jason felt his brain short circuit. You said something, he could see your lips move but everything else faded. Sound, movement. He just stood there, staring like a dumbass. Real smooth Todd. 

“I—shit, sorry. Uh, nice book.” Nice book? Really? Pathetic.

But your eyes lit up, a smile crossing your face, as your eyes flick briefly to the cover. “You think? I’m studying it for my classical literature program.”

“What’s your favorite passage?” he blurted out before he could stop himself. His mouth had fully betrayed him now. “Mine is—”

“Paolo and Francesca,” you both said at once.

There’s a pause. Not long, but long enough that Jason feels it stretch between you like a thread pulled too tight until it snaps. Your eyes flick to him with curiosity. His heart beats faster than he’d like to admit.

He doesn’t know what to say to that. He doesn’t want to sound too cynical. The way you are yapping about the book is not in a negative way, just… resigned, like you’ve thought about this before. Like maybe you've seen too many things you couldn’t explain away.

“I liked that it was written with compassion,” you add after a beat, your thumb brushing the book’s cover. “Dante judged them, sure. But he still let them be together.”

Jason watches you quietly. There’s something soft in the way you talk about tragedy. Not indulgent, not performative. Just… understanding. You didn’t flinch at the weight of it. And maybe that’s what struck him so much about you. Not the book, and sharing the same passage as your guy's favourite. Not the confidence. But your quietness, that was louder than any loudness he has ever heard in his 24 years of life. Like you could tell the difference between suffering that mattered and suffering that didn’t.

He clears his throat. “Didn’t expect to meet someone who could make hell sound comforting.”

You give him a look that’s unreadable, but not cold. “It’s not comforting. Just familiar.”

And again he doesn’t know what to say to that. So he just stays there, standing across from you, as you carry the conversation. The hum of the room fading out as his mind focuses on you and only you. 

Neither of you notice when Stephanie leans over toward Tim and Roy on the couch, all three of them whispering and side eyeing the two of you like you’re part of some cheap television show that they’re consuming in real time.

“She’s never talked this much to anyone new,” Stephanie murmurs, impressed.

“She quoted Dante back to him,” Tim adds. “It’s over. We have lost her”

Roy grins like he’s won something. “You’re welcome.”

Meanwhile, Jason hasn’t moved. He watches the way your fingers graze the pages of the book. You look like you’re thinking about something else already. Or maybe about him. Your conversation. He can’t tell. He’s never been great at reading people like that.

But he wants to learn. Just this once. He feels the unexplainable urge to know everything that the pretty head of yours is thinking. To know your deepest fears. What your heart desires. 

He doesn't know why. Jason doesn’t act like this, usually. Always. And he wants to hate it, he wants to protest against his head, but he can't. He can't find it in him to mind it. Not even a little bit. 

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[moonlightwritingf1]

Holiday Movie Marathon | LN4

❄️‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡❄️ summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N attends a spontaneous movie night at Lando’s, where their usual banter deepens into a confession of feelings. Lando reveals he feels the same, and they share a kiss. 

❄️‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡❄️ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

❄️‧₊˚🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡❄️ word count ━━━━━━━ 1.7k

The streets of London were aglow with twinkling fairy lights, the holiday season blanketing the city in a warm, magical glow. Y/N stepped out of her office building, wrapping her coat tightly around her as the December chill bit at her cheeks. It was just another evening in her life—a quiet one, predictable even. But tonight held the promise of something different.

A soft chime from her phone pulled her from her thoughts. Pulling her gloves off, she fished it out of her pocket. The message was from Max, the mutual friend who had introduced her to Lando Norris a few months ago.

Max: "Change of plans—movie night at Lando’s instead of mine. You in?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go. She did. But spending the evening at Lando’s flat felt… significant in a way she wasn’t sure she was ready to confront. Still, before she could overthink it, she typed a quick response.

Y/N: "Sure. What time?"

By the time Y/N arrived at Lando’s flat, it was a little after 7 PM. The air was crisp, her breath visible as she exhaled. Standing at his door, she adjusted her scarf nervously. It wasn’t the first time she’d been here, but it still felt surreal. Lando’s world—his high-profile lifestyle, his effortless charm—always felt a little removed from her own quiet, 9-to-5 existence.

The door opened before she could knock, revealing Lando with a tray of drinks in his hands. His face lit up when he saw her.

"Y/N!" he said warmly, stepping back to let her in.

"Hey," she replied, her voice soft. She shrugged off her coat, her sweater clinging to her frame as she smoothed it nervously.

"I’m glad you made it," he said, setting the tray down on the coffee table in the living room. His grin turned a little sheepish. "Max bailed last minute, so it’s just us tonight."

Her stomach flipped. "Oh. Um… I can leave if you—"

"Don’t even think about it," he cut her off, his grin widening as he turned to her. "You’re not leaving me to watch Love Actually alone."

Y/N laughed, a sound that was light but genuine. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"Exactly," he said, handing her a steaming mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and marshmallows. "Now, come on. Couch is ready. Snacks are ready. All we need is you."

The two of them settled into the large sectional sofa, blankets draped over their laps and snacks within arm’s reach. The first movie played in the background, though neither of them paid much attention to it at first. Their conversation flowed easily, punctuated by Lando’s teasing remarks.

"So, do you always root for the bad guys in movies?" he asked, his eyebrows raised as she defended yet another movie villain.

"Only when they make sense," Y/N shot back, her cheeks warming under his amused gaze.

"You’re dangerous, you know that?" he said, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"I make no promises," she replied, her voice bolder than she expected.

Lando chuckled, his laughter rich and warm, and Y/N felt her chest tighten. Being around him was like standing in the sun—bright and intoxicating, but overwhelming if she stayed too long.

Somewhere between the second and third movie, the teasing faded, replaced by a comfortable silence. It wasn’t until Y/N shifted slightly that she realized how close they’d become. Lando’s head had found its way to her shoulder, his body leaning into hers as his breathing slowed.

Her heart raced as she glanced down at him. He looked peaceful, his long lashes resting against his cheeks, his usual playful expression softened in sleep.

She allowed herself a moment to take him in, her thoughts drifting. Over the months since they’d met, Lando had become more than just a mutual friend. Despite his glamorous life, he had a way of making her feel seen, like she was the only person in the room when he looked at her. He was warm and thoughtful, funny in a way that disarmed her.

And yet, she couldn’t bring herself to admit how she felt.

Thinking he was fully asleep, Y/N let the words slip out in a whisper. "I really wish you knew how much I like you."

She froze as his eyes fluttered open, locking onto hers.

"How much of that did you think I didn’t hear?" he asked, his voice husky from sleep, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips.

Her face turned crimson. "I—I thought you were asleep!"

"Clearly not," he murmured, sitting up slightly but still leaning into her space. "So… how much do you like me?"

"Lando…" she started, but the words caught in her throat.

"No, no," he said gently, his smirk softening into a sincere smile. "Don’t back out now. I want to hear it."

She looked away, her heart pounding in her chest. "I… I like you. A lot. Probably more than I should."

"Why 'should'?" he asked, his tone suddenly serious.

"Because… you’re you. And I’m just me," she admitted quietly.

His frown deepened at that. He reached out, tilting her chin so she’d face him. "What’s that supposed to mean? Y/N, you’re amazing. You’re smart, funny, and you make me feel like just a normal guy when I’m around you. I like that. I like you."

She blinked at him, her mind struggling to process his words. "You… like me?"

"Is that so hard to believe?" he teased, though there was an edge of vulnerability in his voice.

"I mean, yeah," she admitted with a nervous laugh.

"Well, believe it," he said firmly, his eyes holding hers. "And just so you know, I don’t fall asleep during movie nights with people I don’t care about."

A soft laugh escaped her, her chest feeling impossibly light. "So this is your version of a compliment?"

"Pretty much," he said, his grin returning. "But if you need more convincing…"

Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was both soft and certain.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of quiet laughter, shared glances, and stolen kisses. By the time the final movie ended, Y/N was curled up against Lando, his arm draped over her shoulders as though it had always belonged there. The warmth of his presence made the room feel smaller, cozier—like their own little world.

But as the credits rolled, the reality of the time set in. Y/N stretched slightly, reluctant to move, but knowing she had to.

"I should probably get going," she murmured, glancing at the clock.

Lando tightened his arm around her for a moment, his reluctance to let her go clear. "You sure? You could stay a little longer. Maybe one more movie?"

Y/N chuckled softly. "It’s past midnight, Lando. If I stay any longer, I might as well sleep here."

His lips curved into a teasing smirk. "I wouldn’t mind that."

Her cheeks warmed at the suggestion, though she shook her head. "Nice try."

Sighing dramatically, he stood up, offering her a hand to pull her to her feet. "Alright, but I’m not just letting you take the train this late. I’ll drive you home."

"Lando, you don’t have to—"

"Y/N," he interrupted, already grabbing his jacket. "I want to."

She opened her mouth to argue but stopped when she saw the firm set of his jaw. There was no point in arguing; he’d already made up his mind.

The streets of London were quieter now, the usual hum of the city softened by the late hour. Lando’s car cut through the cool night, the soft sound of music filling the space between them.

Y/N glanced out the window, her head leaning lightly against the seat. The night had been surreal—what had started as a casual movie night had shifted into something so much more.

"Quiet over there," Lando said, glancing at her briefly before returning his focus to the road. "Penny for your thoughts?"

She hesitated for a moment before turning to him. "Just… thinking about tonight. About you."

His lips tugged into a small smile. "Good things, I hope."

"Mostly," she teased, her lips curving into a faint smile.

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "Careful, Y/N. Keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you enjoy giving me a hard time."

"Someone has to keep you humble," she replied, the playful banter easing her nerves.

When they pulled up outside her flat, the quiet between them grew heavy—not uncomfortable, but charged with unspoken emotions. Lando turned off the engine and shifted to face her.

"Thanks for driving me," Y/N said softly, her fingers fiddling with the strap of her bag.

"Anytime," he replied, his tone sincere. "I meant what I said earlier, by the way."

She looked at him, her brows furrowing slightly. "About what?"

"About this being a tradition," he said, his gaze steady on hers. "And about wanting to keep you around for a long time."

Her breath hitched, the weight of his words settling over her. She searched his face, finding nothing but honesty in his expression.

"I’d like that," she finally whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lando’s smile softened, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Good."

Without giving herself time to overthink, Y/N leaned in, her lips meeting his in a kiss that was tender and lingering. When they pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away from him.

"You should go in before I find another excuse to keep you here," he murmured, though his hand lingered on hers.

Y/N laughed softly, her heart impossibly full. "Goodnight, Lando."

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replied, watching as she stepped out of the car and made her way to her door.

He waited until she was safely inside before driving off, a small smile still playing on his lips. As he navigated the quiet streets back to his place, one thought kept circling in his mind: this was just the beginning of something far better than he ever could have imagined.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 97: The Maestro's Plans

Previous > Masterlist > Next

tw: mind control, body control, ableism, forcing Oliver to stand on his injured knee, burning, abuse

December 1925

The fine wooden wheelchair was abandoned on the sidewalk as the Maestro effortlessly picked Oliver up and placed him in a waiting black carriage, driven by a tired looking horse and a thrall who resembled a corpse. The interior of the carriage was dark and cold, and Oliver looked longingly out the window at the manor, illuminated under the moonlight.

He would be seeing it again in several nights, he reminded himself.

But then…

What would become of him now? Alexander hadn't been planning to carry out his task until after the gala. No doubt, he would try to accelerate that timeline now that the Maestro had placed a countdown on his head, but could he? What if his theories on the witch's rune didn't pan out, and there was no way for Alexander to protect himself from his sire's control? What if it wasn't enough?

Oliver saw that tentative future he had imagined dissolve into mist and slip through his hands. Instead of the warmth of Alexander's bed and the comfort of his library, he would instead be plunged into a nightmare of loneliness and torture. His master's mind would be erased, and no doubt Oliver's mind would follow, and he would not even have his memories to sustain him. There would be no bookshop and no library, no past and no future, nothing but an unending, unchanging present.

"You're trembling, child."

Oliver nearly jumped out of his skin at the musical voice. How could he sound so gentle, nearly as gentle as his master, and be so terrifying?

"Please, sir," he said, hoping he didn't upset the Maestro further. "I will be obedient and honest, sir, to the best of my ability, so please have mercy."

The Maestro scoffed. "This is merciful, child. I haven't even harmed you. As I informed you before, I have seen potential in you."

"Potential for what, sir?" He dreaded the answer.

"Potential to be what Alexander should have been, but was not."

He was correct to dread. "You're -- you're not going to turn me, sir?"

"I will, once you've been appropriately trained, subdued, and prepared. I will not waste another valuable batch of raw materials," he said as casually as if he were discussing cookery. "So far, it seems as though you've done little to warrant such a reward or such a punishment, but nonetheless, you shall have it."

Oliver tried to respond, to plead more, but his mouth was dry and words failed him. He would be turned. He would be turned, and be in the same position as his master, cold and lonely. With his mind under the Maestro's control, he might not even remember ever being human. He would hunger for blood as his master did, his cravings driving him to drink from innocent people. And the misery would be eternal.

This must have been how his master felt, when he was a human, helpless and waiting to have his warmth and humanity forever stripped from him.

"Before you are turned, of course, you will need to walk once more. The process preserves your body just how it is in life, and I do not have any use for a permanently crippled spawn."

"Please, sir," he whispered hoarsely. "Please, all I want to do is live in peace with my master."

"You will live in peace. You'll both be free from the burden of choice, of doubt, of insubordination. You will be obedient and perfect, and you will experience the deep peace of the void."

Oliver could remember how it felt when the Maestro had enthralled him, the dark and frigid expanse that rose to swallow him whole. Is that where he would dwell for the rest of his life, a place where nothing was ever permitted to happen?

The carriage came to a stop in front of a sprawling manor surrounded by a stone wall and an imposing wrought iron gate. A husk of a servant opened the gate and allowed the carriage through, and they came to a stop at the entrance. The Maestro grasped him and carried him through the front door, which closed behind them with a resounding echo, plunging them into darkness.

The air was thick with dust and decay, and the windows were all shuttered. The only light came from an occasional weak, guttering gas lamp, each one only strong enough to illuminate its immediate surroundings. Oliver could see glimpses of thralls scurrying by, hear their footsteps creak on the floorboards.

Would this dark purgatory be where he spent the rest of his life, the rest of his eternity?

The Maestro set him down on his feet, and even though his master had hypnotized away his ability to feel the pain, there was still a sharp, uncomfortable twinge in his knee. It only took a moment before his injured knee buckled and dumped him on the floor, the Maestro impassively watching as he collapsed into a heap.

"You will walk."

"I'm sorry, sir," said Oliver, practically groveling at his feet. "I want to obey you, but my leg is weak from its injury and I can't fully stand on it. If I could have a cane or a crutch, sir…"

"I'm not interested in your excuses. You will walk."

Oliver's body stood without him. His knee shook and wobbled as he was made to stand on it, and Oliver knew that if he weren't still enthralled, he would be in enormous pain. He was puppeted over to a stairwell, and if he had any control over his body, he would have flinched at what he was being made to do.

"Sir, please, I want to obey, but if my knee is injured any more, I might never walk again," he said desperately. "You -- you wanted me to be able to walk before you…" He couldn't bring himself to say it, fearing that if he acknowledged the Maestro's plans, it would make them more real.

Without warning, the hold on his body gave out, and he collapsed onto the cold wooden stairs. "I do not require a thrall's opinion on my plans," he said. "You are to be quiet and do as you're told."

Quiet. That trigger that Miss Lily had installed was still lying in wait in his mind, and he felt himself sink into a stupor. "Yes, sir," he murmured, prepared to do as he was told. He put up no further resistance as he was made to walk up the stairs and down the hallway, pushing open one of the wooden doors.

The room he entered was pitch black, and Oliver couldn't help but imagine the possible horrors. Perhaps this was a torture room full of medieval devices, and he was being brought here for his insubordination. Even the fog of hypnosis couldn't fully shield him from his anxiety.

But when the Maestro struck a match and lit a candle, what he found instead was a relatively ordinary bedroom. It was stark, containing little more than a bed with a woolen blanket, a bedside table, and a chest of drawers, but there was, at least, no torture device in sight. As exhausted as he was from stress and fear, the bed even looked inviting.

"Your room," said the Maestro. "This is where you will retire during the day, when I have no use of you."

"Thank you, sir," said Oliver, allowing himself some small relief at not being thrown into a dungeon, not yet.

"Follow."

Oliver was forced back down the stairs on his weakened leg. He kept expecting it to give out, but the vampire's powers were holding it rigid enough for him to walk on. He tried not to think too hard about the damage being caused.

The horrible thought came to him that if he were never able to walk on his own, perhaps the Maestro would not turn him, and he would be glad of it.

He was brought next into an old-fashioned kitchen, and the flickering candle revealed antique fixtures, including a stove so old that Oliver had no idea how to work it. There was a rough wooden table with several chairs, and a large wooden pantry.

"You will prepare your own meals as time allows. The victuals are to be shared among all of the thralls, so you must only take your share and no more."

Oliver almost opened his mouth to ask how much his share was -- he didn't even know how many other thralls were in the manor -- but then he thought better of asking. No doubt, the Maestro had kept this rule vague on purpose so that he could be punished for the crime of taking too much food whenever the vampire pleased. He would just have to sustain himself on as little as possible to avoid stoking the vampire's wrath.

Finally, Oliver was ushered into one more cavernous room. He was left to stand in the middle as the Maestro, surprisingly, lit several lamps. As he did, Oliver could see the stately piano in the center of the room. It was flanked by stringed instruments and shining horns, set perfectly into stands or hanging from the walls. Neat piles of yellowed sheet music sat on low tables, and there were several upholstered couches. It was very clear that the vampire put more care into this room than any other place in the manor Oliver had seen.

But Oliver, unlike his master Alexander, didn't have a gorgeous voice and was not a piano prodigy. He didn't play any instruments at all, and he certainly didn't sing or dance. That meant either grueling training from scratch, or the Maestro writing him off as useless and expendable, and Oliver wasn't sure which would be worse.

"You have no musical talents," he said, as though reading Oliver's thoughts. It wasn't a question.

"No, sir."

The bony hands gripped Oliver's shoulders painfully. "You are not worth training for music. You will suffice as a servant in other ways."

He walked over to one of the couches, where a tidy pile of folded clothes sat. Oliver was beckoned forward, his legs moving without him, and the Maestro grasped the hem of his dress, pulling it off him. Oliver's heart pounded as he stood in the music room, gooseflesh rising on his arms and legs, utterly vulnerable. It was a relief when the scratchy black dress was tugged over his head, topped with a drab gray apron. The Maestro tossed aside the blue dress that Alexander had picked out for Oliver upon waking, and Oliver wondered if he'd ever wear clothes picked by his true master again.

The Maestro sat down on the couch, and Oliver was forced to kneel in front of him. His chin was tipped up to look into those cold, unfeeling eyes -- they were almost like the dead eyes of a doll or marionette, but far more sinister, swallowing up all light and heat and binding up his thoughts. Panic surged in Oliver's chest as the sound of a ticking clock grew louder. He was being enthralled, once more pulled into a nightmare, and this time he might not wake from it. His master wasn't coming to save him, nor was any hunter.

He thought of Vivian and how she could resist hypnotic thrall. If only he could…

Oliver was on the floor, his cheek smarting, his feeble attempt at thought and resistance put to an end. The Maestro loomed above him, and it was only his stance that made Oliver realize that he had been backhanded to the ground.

"You are, unfortunately, a particularly fragile human, and I must be careful lest I mar you," he said. "However, that doesn't mean I won't supply you with the required punishments." He sat back down, grasping Oliver's chin and pulling him back up to stare into his eyes. "You will not resist, is that clear?"

Oliver couldn't bring himself to say it. He didn't want to lose his mind, not like this, not for good. He longed for Alexander's soothing presence, for his master to sing to him and promise him safety and comfort. In his desperate imagination, he would wake up next to his master, reassured that this was all a terrible dream.

The grip on his chin tightened, and Oliver let out a pathetic mewl. "Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," he said miserably, because what else could he do? He was losing himself once more, his thoughts slipping away like water down a drain. The darkness was not like Alexander's enchanted slumber, a darkness like a warm bath, surrounded by his master's blissful lullaby. This was the darkness of the crypt, cold and devoid of life, a nothingness from which there could be no return.

"You are mine," the Maestro intoned.

"I am yours, sir." Oliver's own voice sounded dull and colorless.

"You no longer belong to Alexander."

"I -- no --" He didn't mean to resist. There was a wall in his mind, a barrier of loyalty that prevented him from saying those words.

And then, all he knew was searing pain and the sound of his own voice shrieking. The Maestro was pressing a lit candle to his arm, stopping him from flinching away as his skin burned. The agony was unbearable, and Oliver was passing out, his body prevented from collapse even as his vision darkened around the edges and his senses left him.

"Wake."

Oliver's eyes opened. He was obediently kneeling in front of the Maestro once more, as though that hadn't happened. The place where he was burned was no longer painful, feeling instead more like an insistent itch, but he couldn't glance down to look at it. Had that all been a terrible illusion?

"You will not resist me again," said the Maestro, as the sound of ticking clocks grew louder.

Oliver wanted to explain that he didn't mean to, that it was Alexander's enthrallment, but he wasn't capable of words. He was sinking again.

"You no longer belong to Alexander. You belong to me."

It was like being torn from a warm bath and tossed into a desert of ice and snow and whipping wind. "I -- I belong to you, sir."

"All of it."

"I no longer belong to Alexander, sir." It was an ice pick to the heart. "I belong to you, sir."

His body was kneeling placidly in front of his new master, but his mind was curling up in despair, trying to hold on to crumbs of hope. He'd be returned to Alexander after this. Alexander and Lily could fix what the Maestro had damaged, just as they had before. And perhaps… he hardly dared hope, but perhaps Alexander would manage to…

"You belong to me."

"I belong to you, sir." It was true. There would be no escape. He was frozen, crystallized in place in front of his new master.

"Fall. Fall deep into my control," he intoned. "There will be no resistance, no rebellion. Your mind will open to me."

Oliver's head nodded slowly, as the conscious part of his mind retreated to a far corner, trying to hold on to one bare sliver of thought.

"Your mind is weak. Malleable. Easily influenced." The melodic voice matched up perfectly with the tick-tock-tick in Oliver's mind. "Your personality, your thoughts, your memories, they're all mine to control, just as I effortlessly control your body."

He was slipping away. He didn't want his mind to be overtaken by misery for the rest of his days, but he wasn't strong enough to hold on, at the precipice of an abyss.

"Each night you stay here, your mind will weaken, and my hold over you will strengthen. Your memories of what happens in this manor may be removed, but your subconscious will recall every scrap of my deep influence over you."

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed, as he mentally thrashed to allow his thoughts to surface. "You'd remove my memories, sir?" he managed.

"As I see fit, yes. I must make certain adjustments to you. Even a creature as old as me may sometimes learn, and I have learned much from the inadequacy of my first spawn. I will take no chances with you, child. I will mold your mind to be perfect before I bestow upon you my terrible gift."

"Please," Oliver pled softly. "Please, sir. I will be obedient. I will not defy you. I will do anything you say without hesitation. Just please allow me my mind."

A freezing hand touched his cheek in a gesture that might almost seem comforting in wildly differing circumstances. "No," the Maestro said simply.

Previous > Masterlist > Next

Thank you for reading. Next week, Fitz comes home.

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[fa1ry03]

Birthday Wishes

Author’s Note: Thanks so much for all the support on my first piece!!! This is my second, and I’m so excited to share it with you guys! Since Joe's Birthday is coming up, I decided to write a short piece. I hope y'all enjoy this celebration of Joe’s bday. Happy Birthday Joe! 💙🎉

Blurb about the piece: Celebrate Joe Burrow’s birthday with a day full of love, surprises, and passion. From a heartfelt breakfast in bed to a surprise party with friends, every moment is crafted to make him feel special. As the night winds down, tender gestures blend sweetness and spice for an unforgettable celebration.

(not proofread)

word count: 764

The first rays of sunlight streamed into the cozy Cincinnati home Joe Burrow shared with his partner, casting a warm glow across the room. Outside, the December chill hung in the air, but inside, the atmosphere was cozy and festive. Today wasn’t just any day—it was Joe's birthday.

You had been planning this day for weeks. Joe, humble as ever, insisted he didn’t need anything extravagant, but you knew better. A man like him, who poured his heart and soul into everything, deserved a day as special as he was.

You tiptoed into the kitchen, careful not to make too much noise and wake him. The plan was simple but heartfelt: start the day with a breakfast he’d love, give him a special message, and let the surprises unfold one by one.

The scent of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee soon filled the air. Alongside the bacon, you prepared his favorite fluffy scrambled eggs, buttery toast, and a side of fresh fruit. For an extra touch, you made blueberry pancakes, his guilty pleasure.

Once everything was plated, you quietly carried the tray into the bedroom. Joe was still asleep, his face relaxed and peaceful. You smiled, setting the tray on the bedside table.

“Joe,” you said softly, brushing a hand through his hair. “Happy birthday, sleepyhead.”

He stirred, blinking awake. As soon as he saw you and the tray, a sleepy smile spread across his face.

“Morning,” he said, his voice still raspy from sleep. “What’s all this?”

“It’s your birthday breakfast,” you said, sitting beside him. “Eat up—we’ve got a whole day ahead.”

Joe sat up, leaning against the headboard, and dug into the food. “You didn’t have to do all this,” he said between bites.

“Uh actually, I did. You only turn 28 once,” you teased, handing him a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

After breakfast, you handed him a small envelope. He raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and opened it. Inside was a handwritten letter, carefully crafted to capture your admiration for him.

“Joe,” it began, “you are not only an incredible athlete but also the most kind-hearted and determined person I know. Watching you chase your dreams inspires me every day. You deserve all the success and happiness in the world, and I’m so lucky to celebrate this special day with you…”

He looked up at you, his eyes soft. “This means so much to me,” he said. “Thank you.”

“There’s more to come,” you said with a wink.

The day continued with a leisurely pace. Joe, ever the competitor, suggested playing a round of Madden on the PS5. Despite your best efforts, he won every game, laughing at your frustrated groans.

By midday, you nudged him toward the door. “Time for part two of your birthday adventure,” you said.

Joe frowned playfully. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you said, grabbing his hand and leading him outside.

The two of you hopped into the car, and you drove to one of Joe’s favorite spots—a quiet hiking trail just outside the city. Hiking was one of his ways to unwind, and you knew he’d appreciate the chance to escape the chaos of the season.

As you walked hand in hand along the trail, you marveled at the serene beauty of the woods. The crisp winter air, the crunch of leaves underfoot, and the occasional call of birds made for a perfect backdrop.

“You really thought of everything today,” Joe said, pulling you close.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” you replied with a grin.

By the time you returned home, Joe seemed content and relaxed. But the day was far from over.

“Go shower and change into something nice,” you said.

“Why? What’s going on?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

“It’s a surprise,” you said, refusing to elaborate.

Joe, curious but cooperative, disappeared into the bathroom. Meanwhile, you got to work setting up the final act of the day—a surprise party with all his closest friends and teammates.

The living room was already decorated with banners, balloons, and a massive “Happy Birthday Joe” sign. You’d spent hours coordinating with his friends, ensuring everyone could be there. The catering had just arrived, featuring Joe’s favorite dishes, including a giant Cajun-style crawfish boil as a nod to his Louisiana roots.

By the time Joe emerged, looking sharp in a casual blazer and jeans, the house was dark and silent.

“What’s going on?” he asked, confused.

“Just trust me,” you said, guiding him to the living room.

As soon as you opened the door, the lights flicked on, and a chorus of voices shouted, “Surprise!”

Joe froze, his mouth falling open. The room was packed with familiar faces—his teammates, coaches, and even a few close friends from high school and college.

“You did this?” he asked, turning to you with wide eyes.

“I had a little help,” you admitted.

The night was everything you’d hoped for and more. There was laughter, music, and endless storytelling. Joe’s teammates shared hilarious anecdotes from the locker room, and his family reminisced about his childhood.

The highlight of the evening was the cake—a massive football-shaped creation adorned with the Bengals’ colors and Joe’s jersey number, 9. Everyone gathered around as you lit the candles and led the group in singing “Happy Birthday.”

Joe blew out the candles, his face lit up with gratitude.

“Speech! Speech!” someone called out.

Joe laughed, raising his glass. “I don’t even know where to start,” he said. “To everyone here, thank you. I’m so lucky to have such amazing people in my life. And to you,” he said, looking at you, “thank you for making this the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

As the night wound down and the guests started to leave, Joe pulled you aside.

“Today was perfect,” he said. “You made me feel so loved.”

“You are loved,” you said, leaning in to kiss him.

As you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you realized that while Joe’s accomplishments on the field were incredible, it was moments like this that truly defined him. He was more than just a football star—he was someone who inspired everyone around him to be better.

And on this special day, you were grateful to celebrate the man he was, both on and off the field.

-Time Skip-

By the time you guys returned home, the party had been a roaring success, and you’d successfully pulled off every surprise. But now, the house was quiet, the guests gone, and the festive decorations shimmering under soft, dimmed lights.

Joe found you in the living room, sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in hand. You had changed into something more alluring—a fitted black lingerie that hugged every curve.

“Looks like the birthday boy survived the surprises,” you teased as he approached, his gaze sweeping over you appreciatively.

“Barely,” he said, sitting beside you and taking your hand. “But I’ve got to say—you outdid yourself.”

“You deserve it,” you said softly, leaning in closer.

Joe’s eyes darkened slightly as his free hand brushed along your thigh. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

“Maybe I’m the lucky one,” you murmured, your voice low.

The playful energy between you shifted as the air grew heavier with tension. His hand lingered on your leg, tracing slow, deliberate circles.

“You’re not done spoiling me yet, are you?” he asked, his voice dropping into a husky tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

“That depends,” you said, your lips curving into a coy smile. “How much more does the birthday boy want?”

Joe didn’t answer with words. Instead, he closed the space between you, capturing your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap. The feel of his strong hands makes its way to your bottom. Combined with the heat radiating off him, sent your heart racing.

“You’ve been teasing me all day,” he murmured against your lips. “It’s my turn now.”

His words were a promise, and you couldn’t help but melt into him, the anticipation of the night ahead filling you with a delicious thrill.

As the fire crackled in the background and the world outside faded away, you realized this was the perfect way to end his special day—wrapped up in each other, with nothing but the quiet hum of desire and the promise of more.

Thanks for reading! Send in request plss <3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

He Sees You

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You go away for the holidays but you can't escape all the worries you tried to leave at home..

Character: Walter Marshall

Day Seventeen of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - let's go somewhere warm for the winter.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Let's go somewhere warm for the winter 

The sun beams amber over the dulcet ripples. Your room looks down onto the hotel pool in the setting evening, a calming hue soothing your nerves. You haven't felt this close to peaceful in month. No... has it already been a year? 

"So, honey, what do you think about trying the restaurant? I was just looking over the menu. I've never tried mussels," your mother's voice cuts through the din. Another comfort you've longed for. 

"Sure, whatever you want," you face her and sigh.  

It's more than getting away from work and your tiny apartment and the city. It's that foreign feeling. Something you almost forgot. You feel safe. 

"You alright?" She asks with concern. 

"I'm great, mom," you assure her. "Thanks for bringing me." 

"Didn't know what else to do with all that money. You wouldn't believe it, Sheila was so jealous that I won the jackpot at bingo. I would've asked her if she hadn't been such a crabby ass about it." 

"Oh, I'm sorry." 

"Ah, she always was a pain," she shrugs. "Besides, I miss my baby girl. You're always so busy with work." 

"I know, mom, I'm sorry." 

You look down guiltily. You can't tell her that it's more an excuse these days than the truth. You are busy but not with your job. You're hiding. You don't have to here. It's nice and distant and warm. You can't remember a winter without snow. It's so strange to be hot in December. 

"I'll just change into something... not this," you look down at the sweats you wore on the plane. 

"Wonderful," you mom gives a small clap but concern lingers in the lines of her forehead, "we can wait until tomorrow if you're jetlagged." 

"I'm not. Promise. I want to," you assure her. 

You grab your bag and flip the lid open. You take out some capris and a flora shirt. You go into the bathroom as she searches her purse. You want to make the best of it. It's not often you have this luxury; not only the time off, but the all-inclusive resort. It's amazing.  

And it might be the only escape you get for a while. Or ever. 

You come out as your mom spritzes herself with body spray. She smiles and grabs her wallet, "dinner's on me." 

"Mom," you chide. 

"No, you don't even try. This is my present to you, honey. I want you to enjoy," she goes to the door and looks back at you. "What happened to my little girl and her smiles?" 

Her question pierces your heart. You know but it would break her heart to say it. You force a smile. 

"I'm just grown up and tired," you chuckle dryly. "Come on. I saw something about pineapple sangria." 

"That's my girl," she trills and holds the door for you. 

The restaurant is just as you expect. Tropical in the tourist sort of way. Fake palm trees, colourful glasses, twisty straws with fruit slid onto them. You order a sangria as your mother puts her glasses on and squints at the menu. 

The server brings your drinks and gives you time to peruse the selection. You settle on the carribean prawn cocktail as your mother stirs her spicy margarita. She sits back and looks around. It's good to see her happy too. 

"This is so nice," she preens. "You should come to bingo with me when we get back. If we both win, we could stay twice as long next time." 

She cackles and you laugh too. Genuinely, this time. That weight on your shoulder lessens bit by bit. You slurp down some sangria and let the alcohol sink in. You need this. You need to just forget. To let go. 

You're far from home. No one even knows you're here. Even work thinks you're just puttering around at your apartment, and your friends, the few who still talk to you, are too absorbed in their own holidays. 

You put in your orders and get another round. Your refills come with the food as your mother tells you about Maureen who steals her fliers. You laugh as you remember the rivalry she used to have with the other soccer moms. You were never very good at the sport though. 

"How's your food?" She asks as you pick away at the prawns. 

"Very good. I could eat a whole other platter but I won't." 

"It's a holiday, go on," she chirps. 

"No, no, really. My mind says yes but my stomach would say no way," you shake your head. 

"Hm, we'll need to get a dessert menu then," she grins and looks around for the server. 

He comes and clears your plates. Your mother requests the dessert list and he flits off to his task. He returns with more than the menu. He has another round of drinks in hand. 

"Oh, we didn't--" your mother begins. 

"The gentleman at the bar sent them over." The server puts down the drinks. 

You stiffen as you stare at the pineapple ring hooked over the brim. Your mother cranes to see whoever it is and you shrink down. You're paranoid. Not here. He couldn't be. 

"And the desserts," the server taps the menu before he hands it over. "I recommend the key lime cheesecake or the coconut cream trifle." 

"Oh, thank you." Your mother fawns, "honey, cheers." 

Your mother raises her glass in a gesture towards the bar. You hold your breath and lift your glass, mirroring her. You glance at the bar and nearly drop the drink. You quickly lower your hand and turn to her. She doesn't see your panic. 

"Um, you know what," you set the glass down gingerly as the waiter retreats. "I'm going to find the bathroom." 

You get up and keep your eyes ahead of you. You resist the urge to peek at the bar again. You don’t need another look. You know it’s him, you just can’t fathom how he found you. 

You enter the bathroom and quicky hide in a stall. You sit without intent. You need to think. What do you do? What can you do? You didn’t tell a soul. You wouldn’t even text your mom the details, just in case. Your stomach clenches until you think you might vomit. 

Then another thought brings you to your feet. Your mom. Shit. 

You get up and hurry back out. As you come into the dining room, your eyes move instinctively to the bar. He’s not there. With dread, you look to the table. Your mom’s alone. Thank god. Yet, you know better than to believe he’s gone. 

You join her and reach for the sangria without a thought. You nearly choke on the mouthful as you recall where it came from. You force it down and place the drink on the table. 

“That stranger sure was kind, treating us to a round,” she smiles. “Been a long time since a handsome man bought me a drink.” 

You try to smile but you’re so tense, you can hardly breathe. “So, uh,” you swallow to restrain the tremble in your voice. “What do you want for dessert? The banana pudding sounds good.” 

You look down at the menu, hoping she can’t see the truth. She’s always been smart. She always catches you out. Maybe the drinks are enough to save you. At least, enough to protect her. Ignorance is bliss and you don’t want to ruin the first vacation she’s had in years. 

🌴

Your mother snores in the other bed. You lay awake. Your phone rests on your stomach. You wait for the inevitable buzz. 

You feel weak, so fraught that your bones are heavy. Weary. That’s the word. You’re so tired of running, especially when it only feels like you’re standing still. 

Brrrrr. 

The vibration makes you jolt. You grab at the phone clumsily and raise it to read the message. It’s him. It’s not a surprise. No one hs your number but the woman in the room with you. Or so you thought. 

‘You looked really nice tonight.’ 

You stare. You can’t answer that. You doubt he expects one. No, he’s taunting you. 

‘How’s your mom?’ 

You sit up and hiss. No. No. That’s off-limits. 

‘Leave her alone,’ your thumbs skitter over the keys quickly. 

Three dots appear. Then disappear. Then pop up again. 

‘I don’t like talking like this.’ 

You grit your teeth. Fuck off. You want so badly to type it in. Your mother snorts and rolls over. The next message shakes your hands. 

‘Room 3054.’ 

‘Where?’ You text back as seeing your suite number makes you ill. 

‘Bar. Got a cocktail waiting for you.’ 

Checkmate. You’re no good at his game and you’re terrified of him flipping the board. You slide out of bed quietly and wade through the dark. You pull a hoodie on over your camisole, careless of the flowy fabric of your shorts. You step into your sneakers, bending the backs, and shove the room key into your sweater pocket. 

He’s waiting, just like he said. With a beer for himself and another bright yellow drink for you. You near as he tugs at one of his dark curls, combing his fingers through the knot at the base of his skull. He grunts as he looses it and brings his hand back to the bottle. 

You climb up next to him. You ignore the drink. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask. 

“I should ask you the same.” 

“It’s none--” you begin and think better of it. “I’m spending time with my mother. Shouldn’t you be with your family?” 

He grits his teeth and swallows. Walter is a big man. Burly is an understatement. Before, when he was just customer, you compared him to a teddy bear. Now he’s grizzly stalking you through the trees. 

“We were supposed to be together. It’s the holiday. You couldn’t even let me know?” He turns to stare you down with his icy blue eyes. 

Your cheek ticks and your eyes flick to the wall. He scares you. More than anything. 

“I’ve been asking to meet your mom, haven’t I?” 

“Please, why... why do you have to do this?” 

“Why do you have to do this?” He shoots back. “I’m the only reason you’re safe.” 

You shudder and rub your arm. No, he’s the reason you’re scared. He's the reason you can’t sleep. You never asked for any of this. 

You gnaw on your cheeks and shake your head. Your mouth is dry and your chest is empty. The futility keeps you quiet. 

“Your mom seems nice--” 

“No,” you look at him again. “No. She’s my mom. She’s all I have so you don’t-- don’t.” You beg. “Whatever you want, I’ll do it, but you don’t get near her. You--” 

“You act like I want to hurt her. Why would I do that? She gave me you?” He arches a brow. 

You inhale and lean your elbow on the bar, “Walter.” 

His lashes flick up and his tongue pokes out to trace his lips, “have your drink. We’ll have enough time to go back to my room before she’s up.” 

You stare at him. He turns to the bar and lifts the beer bottle. He drinks casually as you watch. You lower your head as your hands shake over your lap. You reach to turn yourself on the tall stool.  

The mirror behind the bar reflects your fear. His eyes meet yours and you wince. You knew this was too good to be true. You knew that even here wasn’t far enough. 

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hi, how are you? Hope everything's peachy. I've been waiting for your requests to be open since probably December. I figured, maybe I could leave you my thoughts and you'll decide what to do with them. Is that fine? 😅 You can throw it straight to the trash if you'd like.

So that now every F1 Team have a girl driver in F1 Academy, I thought maybe they want to promote the Academy more and includes it in DTS series. So the reader is a driver for Ferrari. They assign her to Carlos and they've to film a Training camp before the season. Carlos sort of being her PT. Plot twist: they HATE each other. But their combined fury can easily catch on fire and lead them to other type of sport, more sensual one. So it's like enemies but/to lovers sort of thing. A lot of arguing, angst but also a bunch of steamy sex

The Uphill Battle || CS55

Warnings: Smut, angst, name calling WC: 1.8k

Pre-season Training - Dolomites This had to be the worst PR disaster in the making. Whoever thought it would be a great idea to pair you up with Jr Sainz needed to fall right off this mountainside. To make matters worse, they had a TV crew following you around all day and you were fairly sure your suite was bugged like Big Brother.

“Hurry up, I want to make it back in time for dinner,” Carlos growled as he stopped to look back at you. 

You narrowed your eyes, not that he could see them beneath the snow goggles, and sarcastically replied, “Oh no, baby boy can’t go to bed without his supper.”

He stabbed his sticks into the snow and pulled his googles up over his beanie. “You think I want to be out here babysitting a spoiled little brat? I am crawling just so you don’t get left behind and lost up here. Pick. Up. The. Pace.”

“Fuck you,” you spat as you pushed harder, your calves protesting the hardship you were putting them through to prove a point. You overtook the Spaniard and made sure to only just miss his foot from the piercing pike on your ski stick. “Keep up, Junior.”

You were both panting by the time you arrived back at the luxury accommodation in the resort town at the base of the mountain. You were starving but you were also damp with sweat beneath the layers of cashmere and feather-stuffed coats so you went straight to the private pool. You figured after the whining Carlos had done about his dinner you wouldn’t be disturbed in the heated outdoor pool, but you were wrong.

Carlos curled a brow at the trail of clothes that led from the twin penthouse suites to the rooftop pool they shared, each layer getting thinner until it ended with a sports bra and panties. Snow littered the ground and he shivered in his bathrobe as he watched you float on the surface of the steaming water with your eyes closed. You looked relaxed, peaceful. It was a look he rarely saw on your face and it immediately washed away when you opened your eyes and caught him watching.

“Dirty perv,” you hissed as you slipped back beneath the water up to your neck and covered your breasts. 

“I’m not the one going for a skinny dip. You’re just looking for attention.”

“I don’t have to look for attention, it comes looking for me,” you said as you eyed up the goosebumps on his legs below the robe. “I figured you were too busy stuffing your face.”

“The Netflix crew were in the dining hall,” he admitted quietly.

“Ah, so you are not nearly as comfortable in front of them as you act. Could have fooled me.”

“I don’t think that would be hard.”

“I hope your balls get frostbite.”

Carlos winced at the idea and took a step closer to the water's edge and the warmth it promised. 

“If you get in here with me we are going to have a problem,” you warned, swimming closer to defend your territory. “There’s no cameras around to keep you safe.”

Carlo snickered and dipped his foot in. “I’ve seen your training in the ring, I think I can handle it.”

“Brave words when you are all the way over there.”

Your blood could have heated the water to boiling point as he slipped his robe off and tossed it over the rail before taking another step in, then another. You watched the water disappear over his skin tight trunks and darken the happy trail before rising over his abs. The team at Ferrari at least assigned you someone who was taking their PT position seriously, you could see from his physique that he kept his own routine solid and you could learn a thing or two - if he wasn’t such an asshole.

“Take a picture, malcriada,” he said with a wink when your eyes finally reached his face.

“Such a shame,” you murmured wistfully.

“What?”

You dragged your eyes back over his body before sighing. “That a body that fine has a personality like yours.”

A wave splashed over you as he dove into the water and you lost sight of him in the dark. You should have put the underwater lights on but hadn’t wanted to light the water up when you hadn’t bothered to even change into a bikini. 

A large hand grabbed your ankle and you barely had time to inhale a breath before you were pulled under. Just as quickly as he grabbed you, he was gone again and you spluttered to the surface, wiping the water from your eyes. “Asshole!” 

“Is that the best you can do?” he laughed from the edge he was leisurely reclining against. 

“Come here and find out.”

He slipped beneath the water but this time you were prepared and met him halfway. Your bodies collided, twisting and turning trying to fathom some kind of dominance until your legs wrapped around his waist and he sank to the bottom with you on top. His hands found your thighs and dug into the soft skin until your lips parted with a sudden thought and the last of your air bubbled to the surface. 

“Not the attack I was expecting,” he taunted as he rose to the surface behind you. The water falling from his hair cooled as it dropped to your shoulder and his hand traced the curve of your neck. “Someone plays dirty.”

“I’m not playing.” Your voice wasn’t the cold detached sound you had hoped it would be, but a needy sigh. Your legs pressed together and you were suddenly reminded of how very naked you were. 

“Is that another invitation? You almost won that time.”

You turned around with a glare to find his smirk growing as wide as his pupils as he looked down at your body. “It’s not a fair fight anyway. I am naked and vulnerable.”

He chuckled at that. “I don’t think anyone could mistake you as vulnerable, malcriada, not with that prickly attitude and sharp tongue. But, if it would make you feel better about losing again…” his hands brushed over his hips and pushed his trunks down his thighs before he tossed them out of the pool. “Happy now?”

“I’m certainly something,” you murmured before realising you spoke aloud. Anger flushed your body again at the distraction he caused and you shoved your hand across the surface, spraying him in the face with the water. His momentary surprise was only that, momentary, and he leapt into your personal space with his own attack.

You weren’t quite sure how it happened, or how it started. Maybe the tension that had been brimming all week finally reached its breaking point and it was a mutual decision. One moment you were writhing to escape from his attack, your hands trying to find purchase on his body as you wriggled in his arms, the next you were writhing for an entirely different reason. 

His chest brushed over your sensitive peaks and your nails scraped down his back. Your legs tightened around his waist and felt the large length pressed between your stomachs. Your heads broke the surface but the gasp had nothing to do with the need for air when his palms squeezed your ass to hold you still. 

“What are you doing?” you moaned as you clit pressed to his shaft and every little movement rode you over the rigid veins. 

“I’m not doing anything,” he rasped, his voice dropping as he felt the heat of your core on him. “I’m trying to not fuck you right now.”

“Right, because you hate me,” you laughed humorlessly as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp but you both moaned at the feeling.

“No, because you hate me.”

It had been a while since you last had sex, that was the excuse you gave for being so needy and wanting to be filled right at that moment. “I can hate you and still want to fuck.”

Carlos stared into your eyes and saw the desire in them, felt the desire that had your nipples hard and begging for his mouth. “Fuck it,” he decided aloud. “I can hate you and still make you come.”

“Bold words.”

He didn’t give you a response, at least not in words. His strong hands lifted you higher and pulled you back down on his cock. Your teeth clamped around the muscle where his shoulder met his neck and he groaned at the pain and your muffled cry. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

“You’re too big,” you whispered as he slowly speared you down his shaft until you looked down your body expecting to see a bugle at your belly button. Easing you back up, he set a slow rhythm as your body adjusted to his size and walked you both to the edge of the pool.

“You can take it,” he promised as your legs untangled from around him and you found yourself facing the mountain you had climbed earlier. His hips snapped forward and buried himself back in you from behind and your cry echoed out into the night. “That’s it, make an avalanche, malcriada.”

You didn’t care that he called you brat. You didn’t care if you brought the mountain down on the whole town. You only cared about reaching your own high and you chased it with your hips, pushing back to meet him stroke for stroke. Waves rippled out across the water and soon turned to splashes as your core tightened and those ripples began to make their way down your spine.

“I can feel you shaking,” he teased in your ear, his hand snaking over your hip to find your clit. “Let go, dulce, let me feel you come.”

Your eyes slammed shut as waves of pleasure rocked through you and his name tumbled from your lips, betraying yourself with the reverent tone it held. His pleasure grew at the sound and he slammed himself as deep as he could in your cunt, letting your tight walls milk him as he came. There should have been anger at the idea of being filled with his seed, but you took delight in the liquid warmth pooling inside you. You had made him come undone, it was a win of sorts in your mind.

Satisfied for the moment, you pushed his body back and walked up the steps, into the biting cold night. Carlos was still high from his release and he didn't realise until it was too late. You were already halfway to the suites when he noticed his robe was missing, a quick scan of the snow confirmed his trunks had found the same fate.

“Brat!” he called out as you disappeared inside.

“Asshole.”

Click here for part two.

[werezmastarbucks]

you give me a dog, i ask no questions

pic credit

masterlist - part 3 of 6

in which yoongi drives six hours to make you fall in love with him

yoongi x reader

word count: 4291

warnings: Yoongi's pov present in this chapter

music: spring attitude by sunwoojunga, lmly by jackson wang

Namjoon wasn't lying when he said you're stuck with them for the time being. After the party, you were officially welcomed into the Kim sibling company if not family; their parents lived outside Seoul so you saw them two mainly. You had no idea what insane tales of your hardship and bravery Minji kept telling her brother, but he started treating you even better, offering to send his driver to take you to nearby towns you hadn't visited yet. He then extended several personal favors to you, including but not limited by, providing food and medicine when you caught Covid in December. You feared Minji told Namjoon you were into him since she has forced it out of you. But so far, there were thankfully no advances. Your heart had no capacity for love now; the drama that this kind of relationship would bring deterred you greatly. Again, you preferred your relatively stable and peaceful life. You were immensely grateful that not many things changed after you met - gasp! - BTS. You heard they went on mini-tour in Asia, then returned; Minji shared some news with you and you even followed Namjoon on Instagram.

You asked Minji once about her affair with Yoongi:

"How's your rebound going?"

Minji looked quite happy.

"Ha, so good".

Then she was sad.

"I haven't told Nam yet. I don't know how he'll react... he is his hyung, you know... I'm afraid he'll break his beautiful face if he finds out".

"You said they were brothers..."

She tragically waved her hand and thus, the conversation was over. She found it too hard to talk about, for some reason. Her sleeping with one of her brother's bestest friends, what can go wrong? You shrugged internally and let it go.

In February Hoseok had his birthday and he inconveniently recalled your name, so you got an invitation card. He was the guy who danced all the time, you remembered. By then, you learned a little more about all the guys, of course, but not too much, not to spoil your relation to them in reality. You knew he clapped furiously when he laughed, that he laughed a lot, that he was one of the best dancers in South Korea, and that he adored brands, and brands adored him. You found you enjoyed some of his songs, specifically, Blue Side. It was very fitting for a spring. And spring was almost upon Seoul.

Visiting his birthday was very similar to the September celebration, only it was held on land. Large studio equipped with musical instruments turned that party into an improvised show. Namjoon was being classy and mature again, you brought a piece of art as a present again, Taehyung pecked you with his 'no worries' again, Jimin was gentle again, and so on. Yoongi started that party a little happier than on the boat which you attributed to his hatred of water although he never proclaimed having it. The party was alright. All danced, Minji sang as they played instruments, and Hoseok was showing off his new choreo. A year ago you'd think it all sounded like a fever dream, but they were, in fact, normal actual people, and drank the same way.

You found yourself tucked in the corner of the room as usual, a party hater label bright and neon on your forehead. Yoongi would join you once in a while, a similar label highlighting his high royal cheekbones, and you'd chat peacefully about music, and work, and weather. Then he'd set off and return: have you eaten? He was a good guy, actually. Another stupid thing, you realized he is not actually unattractive. God knows what's gotten into you earlier, when you just met him. Maybe he opened up a little and you found how gentle he is with all things around him. The feature you took for aloofness was caution, probably. You kept remembering Minji's words. They had to be careful with new people.

February came and went, and spring jolted the city with life. Breathing was sweet and easy, and you were in good mood almost every day, which was a new thing. Minji helped a lot. You got to see each other every week at least once, and this groundedness set you on the right course for healing.

One day in late March you got a call from her, and her voice was soaking with that sound that always made the hair on the back of your neck stand.

"You like animals, right?" she asked.

"Of course. I love animals".

"Dogs?" it wasn't Minji's voice anymore. You listened.

"I love dogs?" you half-questioned. It was a statement, but you were a little taken aback.

"Yoongi wants to ask you for a favor", her voice, giggling, got literally slapped away from the phone, and you could hear it.

"Yoongi?"

"Hi".

You settled on the couch and observed your living room.

"Minji said you really love animals and currently don't have a pet, and I", he sighed deeply, like a poet that's staring down the rocky waterfall he's about to jump, "have a problem. I don't have anybody to stay with my dog, and we're leaving for a... mini-tour".

"A dog?!" was all you heard. The thought of dog swept all other thoughts from your head, puff, they're gone. A dog, for yourself?

"Yes!" you yelled, while Yoongi was trying to say something else. You heard Minji's laughter next to him.

"I told you she'd agree with no questions asked".

"Listen lady, when someone offers me a dog, I say yes", you stated firmly, "it's a dog. How long do you need?"

"Well", Yoongi was now laughing as well, his voice like low vibration in your phone, "we're away for three weeks, if that's okay with you..."

"Can you make it longer?"

Another chuckle.

"How many dogs?"

"Just one".

"Do you have more?"

You gave them something to laugh about. It was a good day for you. You loved dogs, end of story. They, of course, clarified that Minji herself was allergic, so she couldn't babysit the angel named Holly. Yoongi's parents were three hours away from Seoul, and his best friend was leaving the city for a holiday. You didn't need all this information, but accepted it.

"We should probably meet up", you suggested after a little thought. "The dog has to see the sitter and the owner together to get used to me".

"Yes", Yoongi sounded impressed, "you've done this before?"

"Once. I am great with dogs. I will protect her with my life and let her sleep in my bed".

"It's a boy though".

"Holly is a boy?"

He sighed,

"Yes, why? It's a unisex name".

You didn't think it was, but let it go. You started thinking out loud about the logistics of it. You decided to meet up a couple of times before Yoongi turns into SUGA and retreats into the world of touring.

"That's a big favor, thank you", he said again. You retorted,

"I am not trying to be funny, I really love animals".

"Thank you", his voice was smiling.

As Yoongi hung up, he threw himself back on his chair, and the chair moaned with pleasure.

Minji was clutching her fists, eyebrows high on her forehead.

"I told you. Easy! High five!"

Yoongi felt too drained psychologically to high five her.

"Don't you find her a little too eager?"

"That means what? That she might want to see you? Shouldn't it be a good sign?"

As she usually did, Minji suddenly got up and started looking for her bag. Yoongi pointed to it with his finger, it lay on the sofa next to his broken guitar. The studio felt completely deoxygenated when this girl was in; he wanted to open a window but there was none.

"I gotta go", she clutched her bag in her sharp nails and hopped in place.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes.

"Blushing. Where are you going?"

"Pfft. None of your business, hyung. If more than one brother starts bossing me around, I'll jump off a roof".

"You got a boyfriend?" he guessed, just slightly alarmed.

"And if I do, then what?"

Minji got caught into the trap of his serious, attentive eyes.

"Is he normal?"

"He is great, actually. You'll love him..."

As he heard what he needed, he raised his hand and started shaking it in the air.

"No more. I got it. None of my business".

Minji smiled happily.

"I hope she can stand your hundred year old grandpa attitude. Try to tone it down with her".

He pressed his finger against his lips, begging her to be quiet.

"Discharged".

"Thank you, Jagi Minji, for helping me to come up with a plan to get with my crush", she said in a tiny voice. Yoongi gave her a death stare but did say:

"Thank you. Now please leave, Minji-ah".

He then fell forwards again, onto his keyboard.

It was almost exactly a year since you met Minji, and you ruminated about it while waiting for Yoongi and Holly next to a coffeeshop. He was running a little late, but it didn't matter; your mind was far away, at the beginning of this friend-love story, on a day like this when cherries didn't start losing their petals yet, and the whole city cleaned itself, or seemed to be cleaner, just for a while, for this magical period of spring. You breathed with full chest, blinking in the sunlight, feeling absolutely lucky standing next to these trees, your feet firm on the dark gray asphalt with the types of symbols you understood now, and you looked at the city which you also understood now, and you loved it.

You noticed Yoongi's broad frame in a white tee with jean jacket on top, with a black cap sitting on his head and hiding half of his face. He had a little milk chocolate toy poodle on a leash, the dog was not just running, it was hopping every other step, clearly just exactly as happy about spring as you were. The second you made sure it was really them, you stepped forward and then watched the dog, while Yoongi watched you.

"Hey. Sorry we're late. He pooped on a maejanamu next to our house, and I had to..." Yoongi changed his hand that held the leash as Holly started hopping to and fro, following your hands that played with his snoot. "Get it off the leaves".

You chuckled as imagination painted a picture for you.

"That's okay. Look at the weather. I am absolutely in love with your dog".

"I guess it's not that hard for a dog to enfatuate you".

His overly careful pronunciation contrasted with his advanced vocabulary.

You stood up and and faced him, seeing his weekend face, hair tucked behind the ears and under the cap, the brim of it shielding the eyes that were too recognizable for a busy street.

"Are you okay here? Should we go somewhere?" you asked. He nodded gratefully, but his reply didn't match:

"No, it's okay. Do you want coffee? I need an Americano".

You entered the coffeeshop together and he pulled the leash gently, asking Holly to stay closer. You noticed the dog was relatively well-behaved. He didn't really want to adhere to Yoongi's tugs, but had a habit of doing so. Holly was really busy sniffing your whole leg.

"Is it tiring?" you pressed, curious and a little sorrowful about his bowed head. He probably didn't notice anymore? His shoulders were down, shrunken into him like he was trying to seem smaller. And his chin was down, even when he smiled.

"Hiding your face?"

"I think..." he paused to look at the menu and raised his head a little. "The world sees my face too often. I'd prefer to be seen less", ironic smile was curving his lips. This shade of pink, and their plumpness reminded you of Minji and you stopped staring.

"What do you want?" he asked in his usual low, indifferent voice. Without the glamour of black wavy strands of hair falling on his face he seemed more manly, and way more comfortable to be around.

"Do you want to take the leash?" he asked as you walked down the street. The route led you into the square and he passed the leash to you, securing the subtle heaviness of Holly's body into your care. He watched you and the dog carefully, saying nothing, just walking next to you.

"You like spring?" he asked simply, in his funny accent, making a slight pause before 'spring', putting there an invisible comma with his teeth.

"I've never seen such a beautiful spring anywhere else. Last year I was already here for it. It just feels like waking up from a coma", you confessed. Then you remembered:

"You had a birthday recently, right?"

He closed his eyes shortly, like it was something embarrassing.

"Yeah".

"Why didn't you invite me? I've only collected Hoseok and Namjoon so far".

He chuckled dryly.

"I don't celebrate?"

"Why not?"

Yoongi sucked the air through his teeth and you understood he didn't want this to be spoken about.

"You don't have to say", you added quickly. Holly tugged on the leash, and, to spare him of the need of being nice, you asked,

"How lenient should I be with him?"

"He is very spoiled", Yoongi responded, and then smiled to himself. "Don't let him sit on your head".

So you talked a little about his habits, and how he eats, and what he doesn't like eating, and what he needs to eat but will pretend like it's poison to avoid eating.

"He is six", Yoongi was explaining, "so at this point he needs a good diet. So, only the food I'll bring, and maybe a piece of sausage from the table once a week".

Holly was running in front of you carefree, constantly getting distracted and trying to get you to break the route. His fluffy butt was very funny, you almost couldn't see it without laughing because of how he moved his slim tail. Twice to the left, once to the right.

"I should've taken him to groomer"", Yoongi sighed, "but I forgot".

"It's okay. I'll brush him".

"You really like dogs unconditionally, don't you?" he grinned.

"All animals. Hate humans. Will never do humansitting".

Yoongi nodded the same way he did when he was memorizing. Like an AI, updating memory.

"I'll ask Minji to babysit my pet human then. If she's not allergic".

There was about a fraction of annoyance to what he said, and you instantly felt put off by the idea of their entanglements.

"So, idols do have humans as pets then", you concluded darkly. Like before, Yoongi caught on your joke and supported it effortlessly.

"People wanna call them slaves for some reason. I feed them, so what's the problem, you know?"

You nodded solemnly.

You made a circle around the square, breathing the air deeply, like it was therapy. By the end of it Yoongi was even humming something under his breath. Then you passed him the leash. Your coffee cup was empty, so you threw it into the bin; he had vacuumed his the minute after you left the coffeeshop. And thus, the first assimilation procedure was over. You gave each other a respectful bow, he took Holly and left. You looked at the pair as they were crossing the road, from under the pink canopy, and thought, how swell that Minji has him. Because if she didn't, you'd fall for him, and that would've been a whole lot of drama.

It's a good thing Yoongi drank iced Americano because they were late again, and this time, around ten minutes. He apologized profusely, while cars sped up parallel to you, and the evening city hummed and grumbled like a giant waking up. The tip of pink shone like a lonely star on top of Seoul Tower. Yoongi bowed almost ninety degrees and you had to grab him by the shoulder.

"Sorry", he said again, and your hands got interlocked, exchanging things, him, pushing the leash into your palm and you, trying to hand him a coffee.

He asked you about four times if it was okay to meet later because he was at the studio, or whatever they called that huge building in the center, all day. You had nothing better to do after work, and it wasn't night yet. People were getting off work and heading to Itaewon. You went into the opposite direction, searching for quiet parks.

"Where's yours?" he asked.

"You bought me coffee last time", you noted from the ground, where you squatted, letting Holly sniff your face.

"You don't owe me anything", he said simply.

He had his black cap on, but the T-shirt changed. Otherwise, Yoongi was the same. Quiet, polite and with double bottom. Relieved of Holly's insignificant pull, he massaged his right shoulder.

"Training too much?" you chuckled.

He dropped his hand like a spell was broken, his face blank.

"Dammit. I had an surgery on this shoulder like a century ago. It hasn't hurt in years, and I still have the habit of fixing it. I don't know why".

"Oh, sorry. Maybe it's phantom pain? It stays sometimes".

You know yours did. He shook his head,

"No, not really".

He then went silent for a minute.

"When I was nineteen, I got hit by a car. One second I'm on my bike, and the next, I am under the wheel, and it's, how do you say, squeezing my shoulder out".

"Oh, shit", you said quickly. His face stayed unaffected, clearly, he wasn't torn about it anymore.

You guided Holly closer to yourself, where the light reflected from the river was making the path lighter.

"I think it tore off a little, so it did hurt for many years. But after operation it's very strong. I lift eighty".

You made the face you learnt here, from the locals: Ö.

Yoongi chuckled, as his hand flew up to his face, then, to the temple.

"Yes, I'm very strong".

"You look strong, but lifting eighty with one shoulder..."

He threw his hands up and squeezed his eyes shut:

"No, with both, with both".

"Oh. That's still cool. I lift... papers at the university, and groceries".

He grinned, showing his gums.

"You should come over", you switched, "for Holly to see you in my house".

It sounded a little awkward. You meant exactly what you said, no undertones, but still, it sounded out of the blue, and out of place. It was true though.

"Take Minji with you if you want".

"No, why", he protested, "I'll just come over when I bring Holly before I leave. I'll help you unpack his things and stuff".

"Yes, good thinking".

You turned to look at the river, gorgeous in blue and golden light of the tall buildings on the other side. You shut close and didn't speak about anything personal for the rest of the short walk. It wasn't longer than twenty minutes as you circled one section of the park, but it felt like hours, in some celestial type of way. You've never gone to parks after dark because you didn't have a male friend before. Now, the familiar paths and ponds looked different, like you crossed into the shadow realm, and the cherry petals shone blue in the unlit thickets. Yoongi rolled his eyes tiredly and looked at the ascending moon, his twin, in the sky. Your friendly instinct was to ask, tired? like he always asked you if you've eaten, but you bit your tongue. You gave the leash to him and he thanked you for the coffee.

"You live far? I should call you a taxi", he offered.

"No, it's not far away and not that late", you shook your head. Your hands formed a protective shield between you two, and he caved in.

"Okay. Be careful".

His short words, delicate like the petals, were simple and transparent, and it made you mad for some reason.

The good news were that he'd leave soon and you won't have to see him for three weeks. You also might hallucinate things sometimes so you cleared your head before he visited you with the dog.

You watched him kick off his shoes at the door and give no indication he thinks anything at all about your, frankly, cute apartment. You had no shame about it. The space was used well, the living room leading into the kitchen on one side and bedroom, on the other. Bedroom even looked like it belonged to a different dwelling, and you liked it. The wallpaper wasn't dark green, but beige-yellow, uninvasive, and the big window gave view of overhead train rails. That was the only downside: the sound of trains.

"Let's wash him", Yoongi suggested, quite joyfully.

As you strode into the bathroom, Holly kicking in his arms, you asked,

"Ready for the tour?"

"Uh-huh. Jimin- ah, Holly!"

The dog tried to jump out of the bath tub, and he pointed his finger at him. Poodle sat down immediately.

"You'll have to listen to noona Y/N. We're washing".

You turned on the water and you brushed shoulders, cosying up to the tub.

"Jimin?"

"Jimin strained his ankle, as always. If he doesn't, we know there will be trouble during one of the shows. Once he didn't injure himself before a world tour, and the stage collapsed under us on the first night".

You didn't know where to gasp. Although it was perfectly in line with all the amusing lore you knew about them.

"Did you get hurt?"

"Taehyung went under, but he's very nimble. He didn't even get hit. It was alright. But now, if the last training is done and Jimin is not injured, we hold him down and I take out the hammer".

You couldn't tell if he was completely joking or not. He soaped Holly up to his neck, and you helped with the head. After being corrected, the dog behaved angelically. His beady dark eyes followed your hands with no blinking.

"Is he afraid of water?"

"No, he's just aware that something is up".

"He'll be sad", you murmured.

"He knows I always come back. Just cuddle him. You'll do well. Speak Korean to him, of course, if you can".

A smile flashed. Yoongi tried to groom his hair with the clean hand, but the hair fell right back. You hated youself for noticing that one small strand that was close to his ear like the crescent.

Once out of the bathroom, he took one glimpse at your bookcase and said,

"Namjoon said you like Japanese literature?"

You were holding Holly in his towel on the floor, squeezing and rubbing him. Yoongi contentedly straightened his back and even stretched his arms.

"Yes".

No more comments about it. The tip of his tongue traveled to the corner of his lips, then he stepped to the door where all Holly's things were.

"Can I ask you something?"

It's been bothering you for a while.

He turned around, standing on one knee, his fingers tearing off the packaging from Holly's food.

"Yeah?"

"After the car accident, uh, do you, or did you have PTSD? I mean, you probably did, but for how long?"

You inhaled a lot of air into your lungs and stopped breathing. His face changed just a little. The memory update. The wolfcut, you realized. His hair, it had a name.

"I still have it, not so bad, though", he said simply. "It goes away little by little, but it takes time".

He paused, his hands working, but his head was still turned to you. He probably barely saw you, sitting against the window which let intense golden light into the living room.

"Why do you ask?"

You still weren't breathing and you figured you could go on like this because you didn't want to breathe in his scent lingering in your apartment. Woody, like one perfume you used to have when you were in school. Also, you didn't want to breathe, period.

"I was in an accident, too", you finally replied and turned back to Holly.

"Just wondering when I can sleep".

Yoongi was quiet for a while and you wondered if you went too far, but he was the only person who could probably understand you. To the full. Understand the intensity of horror when you're stuck against the unyielding machine.

"It will pass", he said simply. "Seems long, but every day it gets a little bit easier. You just have to let yourself twitch sometimes, if something scares you".

You released half-dry dog, and he shook off the water, tiny droplets exploding from him, flying away, pierced through with the golden sunlight. You felt like you'd just witnessed once in a lifetime event. You widened your eyes:

"Did you see this? So pretty! Did you see?"

Yoongi laughed with his shoulders, and there was some relief in his voice,

"Yes, I saw. Spring is pretty".

When he was finally leaving, Yoongi suddenly turned as if he remembered something.

"Do you want to go to our Seoul show? It will be the last one, at the end of April".

You were caught in your tracks.

"I... do?"

He nodded.

"Of course you do. You've never seen us live, have you? You will be blown away".

You chuckled at his sudden enthusiasm. His eyes even gleamed a little.

"I will ask them to take you backstage, the view is fine from there".

"Oh, backstage is..."

"No worries, no worries", Yoongi grinned, but didn't show the gums. Instead, he curved his lips like he knew something you didn't.

[07121989]

𝘄𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗜 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 - 𝘀𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘂 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼

sypnosis. your dreams with Satoru coming to an end after the 'shinjuku showdown' fight aftermath.

contents. hurt/no comfort, canon-typical violence, blood, major character death, emotional distress, angst, fiancé!gojo.

word count. 1k

—————————————————————————

Life had a way for screwing him over.

When Satoru Gojo thought about death, he brushed it off. The strongest can’t die, he used to say. Almost thinking it as some sort of joke or an insult towards him. He believed—deep down—that he’d be the one sorcerer to walk away without regrets. Or at least, that he’d be exempt from them.

But after the fight with Sukuna in Shinjuku on December 24th, 2018?

He realized just how wrong he was.

Even after declaring victory, he didn’t quite expect Sukuna to stop right there and then. One second of letting his guard down was all it took. One second to cost him everything.

There’s so much blood. The metallic scent hangs heavy in the air as Satoru lies on the ground he once fought beneath—his body in two halves, cleaved straight through his Infinity. He’s barely conscious now, slipping in and out. Something he never thought would happen. Not to him.

Everything hurts. God, he forgot just how bad this felt ever since his fight with Toji Fushiguro. His one and only slip up, he thought. It was almost like deja vu for the man. But not hurting as much as seeing you cry.

When he hears your voice tremble—*“I just got you back”—*something in him became aware of something he hadn’t realize yet. All this time, putting work above, rushing for the thrill of not only fighting but his goals as well made him realize it wasn’t just him being affected, but everyone else who admired him.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, voice raw and fragile. Even speaking hurts.

Years.

Months of finally having peace. Of holding your hand without fear. Of knowing you were his, and he was yours. Of talking about wedding venues and late-night takeout. And now—just like that—it was all crumbling.

You told yourself you wouldn’t cry. No. You shouldn’t cry.

He was going to make it.

He had to.

But the more blood you saw, the more you saw his eyes flutter closed, the more that belief began to feel like a fantasy.

You had just gotten him back.

You were just about to get married.

You were finally building the life you dreamed of.

You shook your head, rejecting his apology. “It’s okay. Really, it’s okay…” you whispered, your voice nearly breaking. You stood at his side, frozen. Paralyzed. You didn’t care who was watching—his students, Shoko—it didn’t matter. You were more vulnerable than ever, and all you could see was him.

Then he asked if you were mad at him. Even now, even like this, he was worried about your feelings. About where you stood. About hurting you. “No… no, don’t say that…” you mumbled, finally stepping forward to take his hand. Your outfit was soaked in blood—his blood. Your eyes were red, your face flushed. You looked like a mess, but none of it mattered.

You wanted everyone to see what had been done to him.

To feel even a fraction of what you and Satoru felt.

His eyes drooped again, and panic set in. Was time running out already? “I’m not mad. I’ll never be mad,” you sniffled. Your voice cracked again. Even through every fight, every harsh word, your devotion never wavered. Satoru managed a weak smile, relief softening his battered face. Pain rippled through him as he leaned into your touch. His eyes fluttered closed, and a shallow, rattling breath escaped him. Speaking was getting harder.

When his gaze met yours again, it faltered. You were covered in his blood. You looked completely broken. “You don’t… have to see me like this…” he whispered. The words were barely air. But you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I love you.”

It was time.

Those words had waited too long. Always there, always understood—but never said. They weren’t casual words. Not for you. They carried weight. Meaning.

Real. Serious.

That’s why he looked so shocked.

“I love you, Satoru Gojo,” you said again, firmer this time. Your voice wavered, but it was clear.

If he wasn't in his current state, he would've probably taken that statement as a joke to deflect the tension between them. But Satoru couldn't deny the sincerity of your words, and the emotion behind them made his heart ache. For the first time in a long time, he felt vulnerable, even if he was close to death.

He squeezed your hand—weakly, but with intent. His lips parted, trying to reply, but his throat clenched. No words came.

You didn’t need them. Not really.

“I will always love you,” you whispered.

You wanted to hear it back—just once. But you didn’t ask. You wouldn’t put that weight on him. Not now.

Leaning down, you kissed him.

A soft kiss. Gentle. Barely there.

It felt like your first kiss—right outside Jujutsu High. The day when you two finally became teachers, you two also confessed to one another. The sun had been warm, and despite being adults, you’d giggled like kids.

You pulled away, lips stained in his blood, and studied his face. Your love had always been complicated. Messy. Raw. But he never doubted you. You never doubted him.

Unspoken, but always understood.

You were already thinking back.

Your first mission.

Your first kiss.

Your first time.

Your first date.

Your first everything.

You remembered the quiet talks about a future. About family. About souvenirs from the missions he will have outside of the country as a makeup. Sharing strawberry cake after midnight when you two had cravings. Making Kikufuku—his favorite—and making a disaster of your kitchen.

And then came the regret.

Not the big things.

The little ones.

Regretting the times you scolded him over trivial things.

Regretting not buying that stupid cake he nagged you about all day.

Regretting the times you said, “Not today,” when he wanted to hang out.

Regretting not savoring every single second—even though you thought you had. Because it’s always the littlest things that stay with you when you’re losing someone. The things you thought you’d always have. But you weren’t the only one with regrets.

His?

He didn’t do enough.

He worries—despite all his strength—that nothing truly changed. That the higher-ups will keep failing the next generation. That more students will die too soon. That the cycle will never end.

He should’ve done more.

He could’ve done more.

He didn’t even want to believe he was really here, bleeding out and thinking about his regrets. He wanted to laugh at himself for even thinking that way, but he couldn’t run away from it. Not anymore.

He was getting weaker. Silently he was telling himself this was really it. Fighting the urge to stay awake, his time was coming to an end. Even with death, he hadn’t felt this peaceful since the day he was born. Being the only time in his life that he was ever at peace.

The last thing Satoru feels before he closes his eyes is your kiss. And despite the pain, despite the blood and the agony— that moment where his body become unfamiliar to the feeling of comfort and relaxation—

He savors it.

He savors you.

—————————————————————————

note. this is my first time publishing on tumblr! i’ve been using my notes app as a journal and thought a small wip could be shared :). thank u xo

[orphicdreamers-wp]

When You Know You Know — Quinn Hughes

Summary; In which you, Quinn and your loved ones recount the early days of your relationship

Content Warning: wedding ceremony inaccuracies, fluff

You laughed into your palms as Jack took the microphone and grinned sheepishly, “Hey guys! I’m Jack, the cooler of Quinn’s brothers.” You turned to your husband, “How bad are we expecting this to turn out?” Quinn laughed, “Almost as bad as Trevor standing up after the minister said ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ and saying ‘don’t nobody say nothing’.” Jack grinned as you turned to face you and his brother, “I have one text from a Quinn Hughes, dated December 9th 2018. Jack no joke, I just met my wife. She’s perfect.”

Jack turned to face your wedding guests, “It should be noted that the first two weeks of December that year there was a horrendous snow storm in Vancouver so I initially didn’t believe him. Until he FaceTimed me the next day trekking through the snow holding a bouquet of lavenders that was bigger than his head, which is ideally a huge thing of flowers. He told me he was going to meet a girl for dinner. He called me again the next day, this time he was demanding to speak to our mom to learn how to make pasta as he was having someone over for dinner.”

Jack’s story earned laughs from the guests. Jack smiled at you and Quinn as he continued, “This continued through the remainder of December and the majority of January. It was nearing a month he’d been needing dating advice. So he called me once again trekking through the snow, but that time he wasn’t alone.” Jack turned to face you with a smile, “I was complaining about whatever stupid crap a 17 year old boy would. And then I saw Quinn get pelted in the face with a snowball. Then I heard Y/N squeal as she and Quinn ran through the snow covered streets of Vancouver throwing snowballs at each other and giggling.”

You laughed softly as you melted into your husbands side into a warm embrace, “I quickly learned that Y/N was perfect for my brother which was unexpected because Y/N is classy, kind and beautiful and Quinn is not. But after meeting her I have never had to question or wonder if my brother made the right choice. Because from the moment I met her, Y/N has shown nothing but grace, love and support for not just Quinn but my entire family. I could not be more proud to say, welcome to the family sis.” Your eyes welled with tears as you stood to go hug Jack, “I always wanted a little brother to annoy.” Jack smiled as he hugged you, “I always wanted a sister.”

You returned to your seat next to your husband as your best friend, Gracie stood up with the microphone, “I hold here a hot pink notebook sheet of paper dated April 13th 2006, it reads ‘GG I have a secret. I have to tell someone so your my friend now that I told you. Mrs Tkachuck’s son is cute. He is always skating at recess. I think he has really nice hair, maybe my husband will too. Anyways I got peanut butter sandwiches for lunch what did you get?’ This was the first note I ever received.”

You covered your face with your hands as you heard your husband whisper, “Please tell me it wasn’t Brady.” You laughed as Gracie continued, “The boy in the note did have really nice hair. Matthew Tkachuck everyone. That note would be seen as two 7 year old girls agreeing that a 9 year old was cute and bonding over lunch. But for me that singular note written in real glitter pen by the 7 year old who had no friends because she didn’t let anyone say anything mean to her. You, Y/N changed my life at just 7 years old.”

Quinn squeezed your hand reassuringly as you blinked back soft tears as Gracie continued, “You wouldn’t know this, because I never told you. But on Friendsgiving in 2018, when I pulled the longer side of the wishbone. I wished for you to find someone who would alter your life the way you altered mine. And then 13 days later I got a voicemail from you at 3 am. You had claimed you found the love of your life and his name was win. I unanimously decided that his name probably wasn’t actually win but more likely Quinn.”

You felt your gaze soften as Quinn pressed a kiss to your temple as your best friend finished her speech, “To my beautiful, perfect, amazing and wonderful best friend. To the rest of your life with a guy who treks through the snow a day after meeting you. PS your husband did end up having good hair.” You and Quinn erupted into soft giggles as you looked at each other. You smiled up at Quinn, “I so would have written love notes to you in teal glitter pens.” Quinn laughed, “I would trek through a million snowstorms to bring you flowers.”

You melted into a kiss as your mother in law took the stage, “My biggest baby. In your entire life I have only seen you love three things. Your family, hockey and the beautiful woman that is sitting next to you. And none of those things are in order. From the moment I met Y/N it was clear to me that you loved her more than anything else in the world. It’s in the eyes. You, Quinn Hughes have very telling eyes. I could tell by your eyes when you pushed Jack face first down a slide when you were 5 and he was 3. I knew from the look in your eyes the first time you snuck out. And I knew when I saw your eyes light up when Y/N offered to take Jack and Luke to hockey practice so me and your father could have a break.”

Ellen continued as she smiled at you, “I knew that you were long gone, there was no coming back. You were head over heels for her and honestly I think I was a little bit as well. For as long as I remember you and your brothers never liked each others friends or associates. Don’t get me started on girlfriends. But Jack and Luke came home and would not shut up about how much they liked Y/N. I knew then that she was perfect for you and she fit like a missing puzzle piece of our family. So it didn’t come as a shock to me when you called me less than a year later asking me to help you pick out engagement rings.”

Your jaw dropped, you hadn’t known that Quinn had thought about marrying you so quickly. Ellen smiled at you and her eldest son, “To my beautiful son and his even more beautiful wife. Watching you two navigate life together has been one of the most gracious gifts I’ve ever received.” You smiled warmly at your mother in law as you rested your head on your husbands shoulder, “So I’m picking up on the fact that apparently everyone around us including us knew from the beginning of our relationship that we’d end up here. Is it just me?” Quinn kissed your cheek, “Nope, definitely not just you.”

[gilbertscurls]

christmas (baby please come home) — matt sturniolo

summary: when a twist of fate reunites you and matt at a holiday gathering, old wounds resurface, forcing you to confront the love you thought you'd buried years ago.

The first snow of December blanketed the town in a pristine white sheen, softening the harshness of the biting cold. You adjusted your scarf as you pulled into the driveway of the charming, snow-dusted cabin, your heart pounding more from nerves than the chill. Beside you, Paul grinned, completely oblivious to the storm brewing within your chest.

“Ready to meet the family?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

You forced a smile, nodding. “Of course. I’m sure they’ll love me.”

The words were meant to reassure him, but you were the one who needed convincing. The holidays with Paul’s family should have been exciting, but an unshakable anxiety had clung to you since the moment he mentioned the gathering.

“They’re really great,” Paul continued as he unloaded your bags from the car. “You’ll love Julie. She’s the sweetest, and her boyfriend Matt is a good guy. Quiet, but cool.”

The name struck you like a thunderclap. You froze, the winter air suddenly suffocating. Matt? Surely, it couldn’t be…

“Matt?” you echoed, your voice tighter than you intended.

“Yeah,” Paul said casually. “You’ll meet him inside. I think he and Julie already got here. Come on, let’s head in. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”

You followed reluctantly, your feet heavy with dread. Five years had passed since you last saw Matthew Sturniolo—five years since your love story had crumbled into silence. You hadn’t heard from him, hadn’t tried to reach out, hadn’t dared to look back.

The cabin door opened to a wave of warmth and chatter, the smell of pine mingling with cinnamon and nutmeg. Paul greeted his sister, Julie, with a hug before turning to introduce you.

And there he was.

Matt stood by the fireplace, his eyes locking on yours the moment you walked in. Time hadn’t dulled the intensity of his gaze. If anything, it made it sharper, weighted with unspoken words. His hair was longer than you remembered, and he carried himself with a confidence you didn’t recognize. But it was him.

“Y/N, this is my sister, Julie,” Paul said, oblivious to the tension suddenly thickening the room. “And that’s her boyfriend, Matt.”

Julie extended a hand, her smile radiant. “So nice to meet you!”

You shook her hand automatically, murmuring a polite response. But your eyes flickered back to Matt, who hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken.

“Y/N,” he said finally, his voice low, laced with disbelief.

Paul glanced between you two, frowning slightly. “Wait… you two know each other?”

The air crackled with the weight of the truth neither of you wanted to say. You swallowed hard, forcing a tight smile.

“We… grew up together,” you said lightly, as though the memories of your shared childhood and the heartbreak that followed weren’t threatening to choke you.

“Oh, small world!” Julie beamed. “This is going to be such a fun week!”

Matt’s jaw tightened, his eyes never leaving you. You could feel the questions in his gaze, the ghosts of your past clawing their way to the surface.

And as the snow continued to fall outside, blanketing the world in a deceptive quiet, you realized this holiday was about to be anything but peaceful.

The cabin was alive with the warmth of laughter and crackling wood, but you had never felt more cold. Dinner was a blur of introductions, family stories, and clinking glasses. Your polite smiles were automatic, but your focus wavered each time you caught Matt’s eyes across the table. He sat beside Julie, their hands intertwined. Paul sat next to you, his arm draped over the back of your chair. The perfect symmetry of their group didn’t feel perfect at all.

“So, Matt,” Paul began, breaking your thoughts, “how did you and Julie meet?”

Matt hesitated for the briefest moment, his fork pausing mid-air. “Through mutual friends,” he said, his voice even. “It just… clicked.”

Julie leaned into him, smiling. “He was so shy, but I thought that was cute. He’s not as quiet as he seems, though—he has the driest sense of humor once you get to know him.”

You swallowed hard, forcing a bite of your mashed potatoes past the lump in your throat. That used to be your discovery, your secret treasure. You could still remember the way Matt used to make you laugh when no one else could, his wit sharp but never cruel.

“And what about you, Y/N/N?” Julie asked, her question dripping with unintentional irony. “How’d you and Paul meet?”

You blinked, startled by the use of the nickname you hadn’t heard in years. Matt’s head tilted slightly at the sound of it, and your stomach twisted.

“Uh, at a bookstore,” you said, managing a smile. “He asked me for a recommendation, and we just… started talking.”

Paul grinned, nudging your shoulder. “She’s underselling it. I walked into that store looking for a novel, and I walked out with a date.”

Everyone laughed, except for Matt, whose expression hardened almost imperceptibly. You pretended not to notice, but the tension followed you even as dinner wound down.

The forecast had warned of heavy snow, and by morning, the world outside was a swirling whiteout. Paul and Julie were busy in the kitchen, preparing lunch, while the others scattered around the cabin. You found yourself in the living room, staring out the window, lost in thought.

“Still hate the snow?”

The voice behind you was low, familiar, and entirely unwelcome. You turned to find Matt standing a few feet away, his arms crossed.

“Some things don’t change,” you replied, your tone colder than you intended.

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor. “You haven’t changed much, either.”

“Neither have you,” you said, sharper now.

A bitter laugh escaped him. “I think we both know that’s not true.”

You looked away, the unspoken weight of your shared past pressing on your chest. “Why are you talking to me, Matt? We’re not kids anymore. We don’t owe each other anything.”

“I’m not trying to stir things up,” he said, his voice softening. “I just—being here, seeing you—it’s… strange.”

“Strange?” you repeated, your voice trembling. “You think strange covers it? After everything—” You stopped yourself, taking a deep breath. “You have a girlfriend. I have Paul. Let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”

His jaw tightened, but he nodded. “You’re right. I’ll leave you alone.”

And just like that, he walked away, leaving you to the silence and the storm raging outside.

By the fourth night, the cabin’s family festivities had culminated in a bonfire behind the house. The fire’s warm glow illuminated the whole group as you huddled under blankets, sipping hot cocoa and sharing stories. But you felt like an outsider looking in.

You sat beside Paul, who was animatedly recounting a funny story about his childhood, while Julie leaned against Matt, her laughter filling the air. It was all so picture-perfect, so maddeningly normal.

“I need some air,” you murmured to Paul, excusing yourself before anyone could ask questions.

You wandered a little away from the fire, the cold biting through your jacket. You weren’t surprised when Matt followed you, his footsteps crunching in the snow.

“Y/N—”

“Stop,” you said, turning to face him. Your eyes glistened, reflecting the firelight. “Why are you doing this? Why are you making it so hard to forget?”

“I’m not trying to,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I just—I can’t pretend you’re not here. I can’t pretend like seeing you doesn’t hurt.”

Your breath hitched, your resolve crumbling. “Do you think it’s easy for me? Seeing you with her, pretending like we didn’t spend half our lives planning a future together?”

“Then why did you leave?” he asked, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “Why didn’t you fight for us?”

Your eyes filled with tears, but you held his gaze. “Because you didn’t ask me to stay.”

The weight of your words hit him like a freight train. For years, he had carried the blame, the bitterness of their breakup. But now, the truth was laid bare between you, raw and unforgiving.

“Y/N…”

“I can’t do this,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Not here. Not now.”

You turned away, walking back to the bonfire, leaving him standing alone in the dark.

The week passed in a blur, tension simmering just beneath the surface. By the time the last day arrived, you were eager to leave. You packed your bags with shaky hands, avoiding Matt as much as possible.

But fate had other plans. You found him outside, leaning against your car, his expression unreadable.

“You’re really leaving without saying anything?” he asked, his voice quieter than before.

You hesitated, glancing around the snow-covered driveway before stepping closer. “What do you want me to say, Matt?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “I just… I think we should talk.”

Your stomach tightened, but you nodded, leaning against the hood of the car beside him.

“I’ve been thinking,” you started, your voice steady despite the storm in your chest. “About Paul. About Julie. About us.”

“Me too,” he said, looking straight ahead, avoiding your eyes. “It’s not fair to them, is it? The way we’ve been acting this week.”

“No,” you agreed softly. “It’s not.”

Silence settled between you, the kind that spoke louder than any words. Finally, you turned to face him, your breath forming small clouds in the cold air.

“Julie’s good for you,” you said, forcing the words out even though they felt like glass. “I can see it. She makes you laugh. She looks at you the way I used to.”

He flinched at that, his jaw tightening. “Paul’s good for you, too. He seems like the kind of guy who knows how to take care of someone. He’s… steady.”

“He is,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “But he’s not you, Matt. And maybe that’s a good thing.”

He turned to you then, his eyes filled with something between regret and longing. “I feel the same about Julie. She’s amazing, and she deserves someone who can give her everything. But I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to do that—not completely—not with you still in my head.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you just stared at each other, the weight of your words sinking in.

“So what do we do?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Matt sighed, running a hand through his hair. “We try to be better. For them. For ourselves. We made choices, and it’s not fair to drag everyone else into our mess.”

You nodded slowly, tears welling in your eyes. “Maybe we don’t get a second chance. Maybe this is just… how it has to end.”

“Maybe,” he said, though his voice was thick with doubt. “But if there’s anything I’ve learned this week, it’s that I still want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.”

Your tears spilled over, but you smiled through them, a bittersweet expression that mirrored his. “I want that for you, too.”

You stood there for a moment longer, the snow falling gently around you, before you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around him in a brief, fierce hug.

“Goodbye, Matt,” you whispered.

“Goodbye, Y/N/N,” he replied, his voice breaking.

As you got into your car and drove away, leaving the cabin behind, you felt a strange sense of peace. You weren’t meant to be, not now. But maybe that was okay. Some endings weren’t about closure—they were about choosing to move forward, even when the past still lingered.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry, @shadowthesim

[shuenkio]

SECRET GIFT | ˚⋆୨୧˚

Paring: Jungwon x male!reader

Cw: mentioned of dick, masturbate, whimpers, cum in mouth.

Genre: Small nsfw.

Summary: When he surprised you with an unexpected gift.

Read at your own risk.

None- proof read ><

Lack of perfect words.

Your love story with Jungwon began like a gentle whisper. You were the kind of person who preferred to secretly admire from afar, too shy to express your feelings. That all changed when he stumbled upon your life, quite literally. On his first day on campus, he tripped over his own feet and twisted his ankle. As fate would have it, it was you who came to his rescue. Your caring nature and warm personality melted his heart, and in that moment, your connection took flight.

Initially, you saw Jungwon as an innocent soul, a blank canvas brimming with sweetness and charm. The adorable dimples on his face made you want to protect him at all costs. But little did you know that behind that innocent façade, Jungwon was hiding a deeper, more passionate side. On Christmas day, 25th December, you engaged in a playful exchange of gifts. You surprised him with a promise ring, leaving him in tears as he realized the depth of your love. From that moment on, your relationship deepened, shaped by the unique dynamics between you two.

Today, Jungwon was more determined than ever to win the gift exchange, his competitive spirit evident in his confident demeanor. As night fell, you heard a knock on the door of your shared apartment. Opening it revealed Jungwon, a mischievous grin spread across his face. In his hands was a carefully wrapped gift. As your curiosity piqued and your fingers itched to see what was inside, Jungwon only held it out of reach, teasing you playfully. You couldn't help but feel a mix of intrigue and frustration, wondering what surprise awaited within.

*Inside the apartment*

As you sit down with Jungwon in your beautifully decorated apartment, the scent of roses and candlelight fills the air. The Christmas season is in full swing, with the apartment adorned with festive decorations. Enjoying a delicious meal together, you both chat casually about your day, savoring the peaceful atmosphere.

With the main course finished, the true excitement of the gift exchange begins. You hand Jungwon your gift, eagerly waiting for his reaction. He carefully unwraps the present, a mix of curiosity and anticipation on his face.

As Jungwon open the gift, his eyes light up at the sight of the small snow globe inside. A rush of nostalgia washes over him, transporting him back to his childhood years when he first discovered the magic of these trinkets.

He becomes lost in its gentle beauty, his gaze fixed on the swirling snowflakes within. Memories flood his mind, recalling how much joy the snow globe brought him as a child. With a soft smile on his face, he gently holds the snow globe close, cherishing the moment of connection to his past self.

"How- how did you know i love this?" He's stutter, processing how much you about him.

"Your old picture back in the day, i seen every single one of yours, holding this snow globe!" You said. Chuckle at how surprised he's now which give you nothing but a warm feeling.

Jungwon chuckles softly, a tinge of warmth and fondness in his voice. His eyes still fix on the snow globe in his hands.

"Ah, those days..." he muses, a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"I can still picture myself looking at this little snow globe with such glee. I can't believe you still remember that picture. You know me too well, love"

"Now where's my gift darling ~" you asked for the gift. You know that you'll always accept everything he has offer for you, eveb if it's a letter.

You can't help but grin eagerly as Jungwon hands you his gift, your excitement evident on your face. Despite the small size of the package, you know that Jungwon always manages to choose the perfect presents that touch your heart. Taking the tiny box, your hands tremble with anticipation as you carefully remove the wrapping. With a mix of curiosity and joy, you open it to reveal a small letter inside.

"I have nothing other than my love m/n, let's create more memory together i love you 사랑해 >3" You chin turn into a pout, the emotion rush into your face, like you're about to form a tears.

"Babe-- you're so sweet I'm gonna cry"

"I've always love you m/n, but did you read all of my letters?" You tilt your head slightly, before flip the letter to it back and see more words on it.

"The real gift is me?" You read it out loud, furrow your eyebrows slightly, the next thing you know, his half lower body become naked, with a Christmas's bow clenching on his member, only an unbutton shirt clinging on his body.

"What" You face turn into a watermelon color, it's so hot in your point of vew, that you almost get nosebleeds.

He's also shy too, but he shrugged it off let you enjoy the view, waiting for your response.

"Y-you naked and—"

"You like it? I know you always think I'm all cotton candy, but you're wrong babe, I'm as wild as you"

"As wild as who? W-hat?"

"Don't act silly babe, you're masturbate in our bathroom almost everyday aren't you"

The blood rushes to your cheeks, turning them a bright red, How did he found out about you, pleasuring yourself even though you're tried all your best to cover it. Slowly, Jungwon closes the distance between you, gently cupping your cheeks in his palm. He leans in and brushes a soft kiss against the tip of your nose.

"You want me didn't you? Now that I've won, you have to do anything as i say, right?" He said, his eyes full of lust and desire, in a heart shape, Jungwon's natural blush spreads across his face, which turn you on even more.

In a moment of passion, Jungwon presses his lips against yours, claiming your mouth in a fierce kiss. The intense of the moment leaves you breathless, overwhelmed by the taste, wet lip and feel of his kiss as it deepens. while his naughty hand slide down lower and lower to your neck, rubbing your collarbone as he unbuttoned your shirt one by one until your chest got exposed completely.

You surrender to his desires, allowing him to take control in the moment. As the winner of the gift exchange. and you wouldn't lie when you see his dick twitching in pre-cum and being exposed at the sight, touching your stomuch is just click the button, turning you on like crazy, along with the tie bow wrapped around his crotch, make him looks cute and hot at the same time.

Your hand holding on around his shoulder as you dipping his head pressed against yours harder, leaving no space between you two, let him ruinyour lip till it's red swollen.

His snake-like-hand continue to careless your collarbone, making you're tickled Before squeezing your nipples until it's hard, as your groans let out during the make out session.

"I want you m/n and i know you want me too, do you want to do this with me?" Despite the intensity of the moment and the passion you share, Jungwon remains sensitive and thoughtful, he pauses to seek your consent, ensuring that you are comfortable and willing to doing this m together. You are overwhelmed by a wave of admiration and gratitude, knowing that you have found the love of your life who's perfect inside out.

You nodded in eagerness, wanted to continue as he's smirk in satisfied.

"Do you want you to warm up or doing it raw?" He ask, still asking for your opinion. You respond that you want to take things slow before jumping into it, so he fulfill your wish.

He let you kneel down on the floor, pose his hip a lil more to front, while his hand stroking on his own cock, Pulling the foreskin up and down to expose the head of his crotch.

You spare no more time, didn't hold it back, before grabbing on his shaft, stroking him without his instructions. Your other hand move to his balls, play with it, squeezing it in a seductive manner. The sensation of your talents hand on him, send him a jolted inside his body, as he huffs at the pressured you gave him.

Despite how sensitive he is, in just a few minutes of stroking, he feel like he's on the edge already, his uncut foreskin's moving by your palm non stop, drawing him more and more closer to his climax.

To his surprised, you know he's already in mid way of coming, so you slam your lip, taking all his throbbing inside your mouth in one go, starlets him in a flame of ecasty,as his leg began to trembling and shaking, throwing his head up, facing the ceiling at your unpredictable blow job.

"You're so good m/n, who teaches you all of this Ahhh" he cried out, his whine small moaning, giving you an unknown motivated to suck the life out of him.

He whimpers like a lil boy, squirming in pleasure, as his body signaling him, he's almost reaching his perk.

"I'm about to cum — you sure you don't want to let me cum outside your mouth? — NGH" You reply back with your eyes, knowing that he's about to release, you processing to swirling your tongue on the tip of his length inside your mouth, in circles. Leaving him breathless, with his heartbeat become more shudder in arousal.

In one last jerk, his cum splashing out, inside your throat, pushing the back of your head to take him deeper as he's crushing his hip forward pressed harder against your pretty lip, filled you in with his hot orgasm that he has been saving for a week for this moment.

"P-please swallow it" he said in his embarrassed tone, requesting you to take all his semen. You gulp down all his cum licking all the remaining that leaking from your lip.

"Do you want more babe?" You mumble, asking if he wants more, but you hear nothing from the boy, as he dropped himself down on the chair for a support, his body is numb right now with all arousal he had never felt before, this is the first time of masturbating that hit his sweet spot.

"My tip is.... Huff huff... Very much sensitive right now, let's continue later" he answer in his shaking voice, proving that he's pretty worn out.

You smile happily, enjoy what you just did with him, he's one in a million and it's only for you.

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️ Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ crd to all pics÷rs

🗣️ I'm suck at summary in this work, so I use some help from bot 🫠 that's why when it's smut, it's different pardon me ><