#I doubt I can do it for Christmas but maybe another time.

[stripe-conlon]

To add to this, it’s a very…Lancastrian Christian view to see “god commanded me to love you” and following through with it as a good thing. I won’t say it’s American fundamentalism as a whole (although continued ticket sales at Sight & Sound, their expansion to Branson, MO, and their recent foray into actual movies instead of filmed stage shows speaks for itself) but it’s definitely very Lancaster County.

can’t remember what particular flavour of Christian fundamentalism the owners of Sight & Sound are, but they did grow up and found their theatre in a heavily Mennonite and Amish area. It’s a very heavy Mennonite and Amish area and those views, twisted with fundamentalism, are obvious in every Sight & Sound production, even their lighthearted “history of Christmas music and celebration” style show. Doing the will of God, in the eyes of the owners and their creative teams, must always be presented positively and as if you do personally like doing it.

In Esther and…I think also in Ruth (or maybe Moses?) there are times when one of the Hebrew characters talks about not liking God’s will but it’s always played for laughs. It’s something I’ve always fundamentally disagreed with and felt uncomfortable seeing in their productions. And thanks to my uncle working there, I’ve seen a lot of the shows. Esther, I think, was the first time I’d seen a character express fear over their situation and that was a massive development over how they previously wrote their protagonists as firm, resolute, and confident in doing God’s will. But even her fear felt inhumanly confident compared to, for example, Thor’s clear moment of doubt, looking at his hammer, in the Avengers after he fell from the Helicarier. Sight & Sound’s biblical heroes, frankly, aren’t human and aren’t relatable, unlike the people they’re meant to represent. And that is an intentional choice by Sight & Sound, fueled by Christian Fundamentalism.

I know in another post you mentioned how the actor made that line sound like hatred, I can tell you with confidence that it was the actor’s choice and he would have gotten a note about not doing it again after the show.

Drew a scene from the Daniel musical but added a more angsty tone. This moment in the musical is meant to be seen as: 'Aww, look! God is making Daniel love the king despite everything he’s done to him, and he even cares about the king! Isn’t this wholesome?'

But I’m sitting here thinking: 'THAT'S NOT CUTE AT ALL!'

Also, this is not King Darius, it’s the first king that Daniel served, King Nebuchadnezzar (they kinda look the same at the moment).

[thewatercolours]

🎄🕎☃

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Carpe Diem | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After himself being ditched by Oliver, they meet once again. Both seemingly skirting around what happened in the Common Room when they last saw one another. | Word Count: 5.1k~ (oops) | Warnings below the cut!

Part One: Quid Pro Quo Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, oral sex (f receiving), fingering

A/N: I feel...like the word count is overboard but FUCK IT it's my blog 😈

“Greek and Latin both belong to the Indo-European language family, which does not necessarily mean they are similar. The branches are totally different. Whereas Latin belongs to the Romance branch, Greek belongs to the…”

She half-listens to the lecture, caught between Professor Wardon’s monotone ramblings and scribbling whatever bits and pieces she can string together in swirly handwriting, trying to ignore Trevor two rows in front of her, typing loudly on his brand new Macbook that he no doubt got from his well-off parents for Christmas.

Pencil and paper for the peasants, she thinks bitterly.

The laptop she has back in her dorm is clunky, too thick for carrying in her bag, and any notes she makes now will have to be typed up meticulously later. She supposes it’s a good way of getting the information to be irreparably printed into her brain though. That’s the only thing keeping her from going insane.

Which is where she finds herself now, in the wee hours of the morning, her fingers so tired and eyes so strained she feels that all the letters and characters are beginning to merge together.

She's just about to close the damn thing when a notification blares in the bottom right corner of her screen.

‘m_gav_314159265359 is now online’

She presses her lips together to stifle a laugh at the username, it makes her giggle every time. Of course his username is fucking Pi.

After their little ‘happening’ in the Common Room, they'd talked for a bit over MSN, sometimes texting when she had enough credit and even more rarely meeting up at Trinity College campus. Their timetables never seemed to line up very often, so their meetings were quick and over before they could even get settled into really getting to know each other.

It felt strange to have done something so exciting and yet not really know someone.

The memory made her blush. She was never usually that impulsive and brazen. But she didn't regret it.

Everytime Michael saw her, his cheeks flushed almost without her even needing to try. And it felt nice to see someone act like that in her presence.

After lectures had started after Christmas into the New Year and then into Spring, she found herself somewhat self-conscious. Second guessing herself. Wondering if the freedom and calmness of the holiday period had given him a new sense of clarity.

After all, he'd not spoken to her once since lectures had started again.

A heaviness weighed in her chest, bitterly like rejection.

Maybe she was delirious from the time of night, but she felt a surge of courage, desperately wanting to just know if this was going to be more or not.

She felt her cheeks heat somewhat, rubbing the backs of her knuckles against her lips. There was no time to reply before he sent another.

And if what he'd said before didn't make her face burn, that certainly did. She nearly smirked when she thought to herself, 'you mean when I sucked you off in the Common Room?'

But she didn't type that. She decided to have mercy on him, if only a little.

His replies were so blunt and to the point that they were so quintessentially Michael. She found herself wondering if what he'd typed before had been for the intention of making her blush, but she doubted it. He seemed the type to be somewhat oblivious to how words could affect the opposite sex.

Or anything to do with the opposite sex for that matter.

Her stomach fluttered with excitement as she typed off a few quick goodbyes and with a soft, plastic tap, shut her laptop for the night.

“There are no fit guys in my class this semester, fucking livid,” Priya rolls her eyes, nursing a stale pint and a cigarette.

“Did you really expect Modern Languages to be teeming with attractive men?” She smirks in response.

“No. But I at least expected a good shag within the first three months.”

“Does they have to be within our course?”

“No, course not. I'm not lazy as fuck. Can’t be arsed to go off campus.”

She laughs, waving the smoke trail that's formed between their faces, the smell of cigarettes and damp, beer-soaked carpets fill her senses, nursing the only pint she's capable of downing.

“Don't shit where you eat, Priya.”

“Don't you fuckin’ start,” she grins with all her perfect teeth before checking her phone, “fuck, is that the time. Sorry mate you've got like half your pint left-”

“Don't be silly, just go. Whoever you're meeting is bound to have a bigger cock than me anyway.”

“You're a nasty bitch, you know that?” she smiles, standing and pulling her mini-skirt down, “see you later? Catch up?”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world. Have fun!”

“Oh I will!”

She smiles, sipping the stale beer as Priya rushes out the door excitedly tapping the keypads on her phone in reply to a guy no-doubt, nearly running right into a lamppost.

She pulled out her own phone, spotting a new message from the ex-boyfriend she hadn’t heard a peep out of since Freshers Week, groaning with a displeased expression at the first few lines of text that read as if he were desperate. Even over the crackling sound of the speakers and Daniel Powter’s ‘Bad Day’ lulling quietly through the pub, she was still sensitive to the sound of his voice.

“-get me another pint please, Oliver? Thanks.”

She had to crane her neck, half-swivelled on her chair, but it was undoubtedly him. Only one person had that hissy, direct way of speaking, had dirty, blonde hair that touched the nape of his neck and was likely to wear such an…interesting selection of clothes.

Her mouth was barely open before she realised it was Michael, and by then he was too far away to shout from across a busy pub. She found herself with a sort of stupid grin, watching him walk with such a lanky gait, as if walking were an inhuman thing for him to do. 

It took her a few moments to text back a reply to her ex before she looked up again, eyebrows furrowed when she saw that whoever Michael had been with, was now umming and ahhing about whether to join the popular lot, for which she recognised Felix Catton amongst them, shockingly ill-dressed in a ‘what happens in Kassiopi stays in Kassiopi’ t-shirt, with a cigarette between his lips that had been inhaled to a nub. 

She grimaced. Only rich people could dress so fucking shocking.

And then her heart leapt in a different way when she saw Michael look distantly at Oliver, his hand half-raised in an awkward wave, his face crumbling in a way where she knew he was disappointed and yet, not surprised in the slightest. 

It was when Michael pushed his glasses up his nose in a way she couldn’t help but find sweet and go for the door, that she slipped from the stool she was on, a quarter of her pint left, and took off after him.

“Michael!”

The late winter air nipped at her skin, cursing internally that his legs were so fucking long he could stride a hell of a lot further than her. 

“Michael!”

It wasn’t hard to see the glint of his glasses lenses off the streetlights once he’d turned to face her, his lips parted in surprise and a heat rising to his cheeks.

He swallowed visibly, “H-hey..”

She felt her own heart rattle in her chest at how easy it was to fluster him, “Hey, you alright?”

For a moment, the self-proclaimed mathematical genius seemed genuinely lost for words, his throat closing up on him like he was having a sort of allergic reaction to the opposite sex. So with all that, he simply nodded, his hands clenched as if not knowing what to do with them.

“Sorry about your mate, that was a shitty thing to do.”

“Oh, he’s…he’s not my mate.”

She nodded, rubbing her hands together to warm them from the chill, “d’you wanna go somewhere?”

Michael’s eyes behind his glasses widened, “like…together?”

“No, I’ll make you go off on your own,” she grinned, “yes together!”

He huffed an embarrassed but elated laugh, and only now her eyes studied his shirt, cocking her head in amusement at the ‘that’s how I roll’ shirt with what looked like a maths equation beneath it. The actual meaning was lost on her, but it was so dorky it made her smile.

“U-uh, my mum bought it me for Christmas...” he muttered quickly to which she cracked an even bigger smile, the two of them laughing quietly for a moment before he spoke up again. 

“Do you wanna come to mine?” he asked, and it was so direct it made her blink, her lungs feeling as if they were fluttering, “I mean-my dorm.”

She wet her lips from the dry cold, watching how nervous and twitchy he was. And how it reminded her of the last time they were alone together. 

“Like…catch up or something. I-I’ve got alcohol if you-”

“That’d be lovely, Michael.”

He at least seemed grateful that she’d actually replied to save him from rambling, and even cracked a thin-lipped smile himself, clearly and delightfully nervous. Thirty-minutes ago, he’d have never considered this to be the ending to his evening. 

Michael’s room is disturbingly tidy, she wonders if he actually even lives here. It’s like those university rooms that they take photos of to advertise the ‘spacious’ and ‘community-driven’ atmosphere of campus life. 

At least it was clean, she mused as Michael passed her a bottle of the only alcohol he had, which were lukewarm WKDs.

“Thanks,” she smiles, taking a sugary sip and looking about the room. Michael has since cracked open his own drink, but seems disinterested in it as it rests on his bouncing knee, looking up at her from where he’s sat on his desk chair from under his brow.

His laptop sits shut, pencils in a neat line next to it. His walls are bare, with what she can only assume are blue tack marks from the previous tenant’s last year. With the exception of a wall-mounted calendar next to his desk.

“No posters? Was hoping I could be nosy, see what you like.” 

When she turns back to Michael he quickly looks down as if not wanting to be caught staring, “It’d just be maths stuff.”

“And Carol Vorderman?” she teases mindlessly, not catching the way his cheeks go alight.

She hums an amused laugh behind the bottle at her lips, “It’s very tidy.”

When he just replies with a shrug, she scoots off the bed to have a roam about the place, needing only a few steps to cross the room to his bookcase, filled to the brim neatly with books. She runs her finger along some of the spines.

“You’re not going to mess anything up are you?”

She laughs, coming out more of a snort, which makes her cheeks warm, “Sorry. Just curious about your books. ‘Mathematics of Language. Sounds like a bit of me and you.”

There’s that flush again.

That deer in the headlights look.

“Uh…just sounded interesting.”

“And is it?”

“Is it what?”

She smirks, “interesting.”

There’s a silence that for a moment neither of them are able to shake. 

Michael swallows visibly, “don’t know yet..”

She sees something in his expression when a playful smile lifts across her face, suddenly the memories and implications of what they’d done before now weighing heavily on them. And all at once, he’s able to smell the body scrub she’d used in the shower that morning and eyes flitting to the glint of her stud earrings. He’d remembered brushing past them with his fingers when her mouth wrapped around his-

“And who says you’re not a languages man?” she presses with a teasing lilt to her voice. The tone and sing-songy nature of her voice has his heart doing backflips, feeling as if he could feel the erratic beating between his ribs. 

Michael seems stuck in the position he finds himself as she lazily crosses the room, slipping back on his bed, one hand brushing across his bedsheets and the other setting the drink on his bedside table. For a long moment, his eyes couldn’t leave her. The whole situation was suitably extraordinary. A girl who had come onto him (to say the least) was now in his room, sat on his bed, touching his things…all while wearing something he personally deemed unsuitable for the cold, a dress with black tights beneath.

She turns her head to him, smiling, “you seem nervous.”

He swallows, trying to claw at any sort of reply, “is that an accusation?”

It comes out a bit harsher than he probably expected, but instead of recoiling, she bites her lip as if to stifle a full-toothed grin, “an observation.”

He shrugs, “just never had a girl in here before.”

“Worried I’ll mess up your feng shui?”

“My what?”

She genuinely laughs at that, nearly smacking her head on the bed frame, but a hearty chuckle all the same. And Michael doesn’t know why his own cheeks start to heat up at that, taking this opportunity that her eyes are shut to look down at her legs. For some reason, making her laugh just makes him want to try more. 

He’s never had that feeling before. Wanting to make someone laugh.

“No, really, my what.”

She meets his eyes brightly with her own, “feng shui, it’s like…the vibe of a room, a space. Like,  how you place your furniture or whatever.”

Michael raises a brow, his lip quirking on one side, “sounds like bullshit.”

“It probably is.” she laughs.

“Can I ask you something?”

The quick u-turn and tone in conversation has her eyes meet his nervously, her interest and curiosity piqued. Her hands find themselves nervously stroking her legs, the texture of the tights providing some level of comfort, “yeah sure.”

She can't quite figure out what expression he's trying to put on. His brows are furrowed in judgement and a curious sense of guarding himself. And yet he's sat back in his seat, looking at her like he is trying to figure her out, and yet wants to know why she is the way she is.

“Why did you do that?”

She blinks at the accusatory and monotone rhythm of his way of speaking.

“Do what.”

“Don't play stupid. Doesn't suit you.”

She nearly scoffs at that, “what? Why have you gone all weird all of a sudden?”

“Why did you do…that at the Christmas party?”

She shrugs and shakes her head, as if the answer should be obvious, “because I wanted to? And you didn't seem to mind either.”

“I didn't-that's not the point!” he retorts, “are you genuinely taking the mick out of me?”

“You've asked that before and no.”

“Well why then?”

“Is it not enough to really think that I find you interesting? And nice to talk to?”

Of all the things she expected Michael Gavey to go quiet at, it certainly wasn't that. But she watches him all the same, the line between his brow slowly disappearing as his frown vanishes.

She cocks her head, “and not bad looking either.”

“Stop it.”

“I mean it!”

“Nobody wants the fucking maths virgin-”

“Michael. I don't give a fuck about that,” she says calmly, “Hell, I was a virgin not that long ago. You keep saying ‘nobody wants the virgin’ but you can't keep using that as an excuse just because you're embarrassed you haven't done anything.”

He sighs, like he doesn't want to believe her. And she can hardly believe how self-deprecating and yet direct this man can be in a single breath.

“Look, if you don't want to talk to me, I can always go-”

Almost as soon as she is stood, he is too, one large hand wrapped around her forearm, “No.”

They've been sat so long, she had almost forgotten how tall he was, and the difference between them briefly has her tummy doing back flips. From here, she is able to smell whatever body wash he uses, and if she had to guess, probably blue radox.

“No, I didn't say I wanted you to go. Stay…”

He doesn't say ‘please’ once, and yet she's able to hear the desperation.

When she doesn't move, his grip loosens, and she feels tingly all over when his hand slides up her arm.

“Can I kiss you again like last time?”

She almost smiles in adoration at how he asks it, but for the sake of saving him the embarrassment of thinking she's laughing at him, settles for a simple and gentle nod of her head. She is sure she's not really thought it through. Weighing up the pros and cons isn't exactly the first thing on her mind right now though as Michael has to bend significantly to crash his lips to hers.

Much like last time, he is a bit endearingly clumsy, his lips moving quickly on hers like he's running a race with his mouth. This time there is no pool table for him to cage her against, but all the same his legs take him forwards until her knees hit the edge of his bed.

By the time he is on top of her, she's managed to weave her fingers through his hair, her nose nudging against his glasses every now and then, and guiding him with her own movements to slow down and enjoy the moment, with no need to rush.

She knows that secretly he's probably just excited.

But this time, his hands are extremely active.

She's unable to help the breathy whimper between desperate kisses as he tentatively squeezes her thighs, not quite brave enough to go beneath the dress yet and drifting upwards to her breasts, touching and clutching fondly, as if any harsh grip or movement and she'll get up and leave.

He's still unsure, maybe even nervous, she can feel it.

It's here she realises that whether he is doing it subconsciously or not, she can feel the strained bulge at the front of his trousers rubbing up against the inside of her leg, probably chasing friction that feels too good for him to feel lucid.

“Can I see you…” he asks as his lips break away.

She doesn't even reply, she just complies, pulling the sleeves of her dress over her shoulders and the bra straps along with it. The position she's in making it near impossible to reach behind her.

If she could print his face in her mind as she pulled her dress down to her ribs, she would. He looks entirely mesmerised in adoration, and once the only thing covering her breasts is the thin material of her bra, Michael looks at her with an almost dream-like gaze. 

His hand moves before his mouth, or at least before he catches himself, “Is it oka-”

“Course..” she says far too quickly. 

All she can hear as Michael pulls the thin straps of her bra fully down her arms, exposing her breasts, is his breath, staggered and uneven. His hand easily covers one of her breasts, squeezing experimentally, his thumb gently drifting over her nipple and watching them stiffen to needy buds. 

She doesn’t need to look between them to see how hard he is, she can feel him against her thigh, where her dress has since ridden up to her hips. 

His glasses knock against her chest as he leans down, all-too-carefully covering her nipple with his tongue, like he is trying to print the taste of them to memory. 

There is an unconscious desire to press her thighs together, but she settles for rolling her hips, causing Michael’s voice to rumble against her chest where he mouths at her breasts. One hand forever stays at the one he isn’t paying lip service to, testing the weight and shape in his palms. 

It feels like all sensitivity has been turned up to 1000. He is so slow, so unsure, that every languid movement has every nerve feel as if it’s on fire. A selfish part of her wants him to go faster, so used to the fervent, almost rushing nature of who she’d been with before. It was never like this, borderline worshipping.

“Michael…” she breathes, rolling her hips against him experimentally, rewarded with a low whine from him.

She watched as her nipple slips from his lips in the most erotic manner she’d ever seen, before his clear eyes are on her again. 

“Is this okay? Am I doing something wr-”

“No,” she shakes her head quickly, “feels nice.”

Michael licks his lips, a sign of how nervous he is, “Can I do something else?”

He is so eager to please, to learn, that looking at his face as he asks she can hardly deny him. And her head moves without effort, nodding as she watches his hand disappear beneath the hem of her dress to pull her tights down her legs. 

It then becomes obvious what he wants to do. 

“Are you sure, I-”

“I’m sure.” he adds, rolling the black nylon down her legs until all that is left between Michael and her bare skin below her hips, is her underwear. A flush of embarrassment engulfs her face at the thought of how aroused she might be, knowing he has no experience, she doesn’t want to scare him off. The tender and yet needy way he’d mouthed at her breasts had her body all warm, and she can’t remember the last time she’d been this ready for anything.

“I just want to do the same for you as you did for me. Make you feel good.”

And that certainly doesn’t help that feeling either.

She’s not sure if she will get tired of the sight of his long, lithe fingers gripping her thighs apart, and for a moment she finds herself entranced by the view, until he is pressing sweet kisses to the inside of them. Open-mouthed, with an addictive cooling sensation when he pulls away, only to edge closer to the centre of her underwear.

Her breath remains stuck in her chest as she watches him navigate the female body, mapping it out in his head. She knows better than to say anything, knowing him as she does now, he is immensely competitive, and wants to get things right. It’s likely if she stepped in to instruct him, it would only embarrass him more. So she stays quiet, and lets him come to her.

His thumb dips beneath the leg hole of her underwear, “Can I?”

She swallows visibly, now for some reason it’s her being the nervous one. Possibly because the first time, it was her doing something for him. And now, it is very much the feeling of being studied, of being watched to see what made her tick. A feeling that has her desperate for some kind of fulfilment. Anything.

She lifts her hips to help him slide her underwear down her legs, her cheeks warming at being so utterly exposed to him herself for the first time. There is a finality to it that she just can’t quite put into words. A point of no return.

A full body shudder made its way through her when she felt his thumb trail across the spot where her leg met her hip, trailing the line there that led to her sensitive womanhood.

Michael looked as if he was being presented with an equation, she could practically hear the thoughts in his head. But beyond not entirely knowing what to do, it didn't dissuade his curiosity.

She could tell though, that he didn't know what to do.

Michael nearly flinched when she took his hand, encouraging his thumb to touch her bundle nerves hidden between her folds. 

She watched him as his thumb cautiously collected the wetness that had begun to come out of her and used it to gently apply pressure to her clit. Breath was hot in her chest  as he started slowly.

“Does that feel good?” He asked softly.

As soon as she nodded, confirming how pleasurable it was, Michael's first reaction was to go faster. And so he did. Like he was trying to light a fire.

“No, no, no, it's fine to go slow.”

“Shit, sorry…”

“It’s fine,” she smiled, “just more gentle.”

The panic on his face had been clear. But at her gentle instruction, she saw him relax, taking her words and applying gentle pressure in slower, tighter circles. And it seemed Michael was now fully aware of its intended effect, as his eyes were able to lift up to hers underneath the rim of his glasses to see her breathing had increased, and blood rushing to her cheeks. 

It felt incredible to watch his expressions, she thought. Seeing the little thoughts rattling around in his head, to be able to awaken something in him for the first time. But it also felt utterly exposing, and every time his thumb drew circles against her clit, she heard the soft click of her arousal that made the room feel as if she were inside an oven. 

Michael’s lips parted, his head moving as if pulled by an invisible string to her core.

“Can I…?” he asked again, but more uncertain this time. 

The anticipation gnaws so much at her skin, combined with the way he is taking his time that she has become somewhat impatient, so it’s completely involuntary when she nods her head and somehow manages a whispered ‘yes’.

She doesn't really, really know what's wrong with her. She's had head before. But when he dives between her thighs so quickly and eagerly, his thumbs almost pulling her skin gently to expose as much of her as he can, and swiping his tongue over the centre. From her entrance, all the way to her bundle of nerves.

It has her breath stuck in her chest, instinctively reaching down to run her fingers through his sandy hair. Even the slightest tug on it has a low groan vibrating through her where his mouth moves slowly against her.

“Michael…”

At first he is careful, taking the instruction she'd given him before and applying it to tasting her instead. But his eyes flit up to her when she breathes his name like that, so he redoubles his efforts, gripping the underside of her thighs to tug her towards him in a teasing rhythm.

She didn't really know what to expect, assuming he hadn't done anything like this before. But Michael seems eager to please, as he nudges between her sensitive folds to tease her entrance with his tongue, the sharp shape of his nose butting against her bud with every movement, as little as it is.

With one hand in his hair, her hips move against his face, the glasses perched on his face hanging askew. And all she can see is that his eyes are closed as he tastes her, every now and then he makes a noise between a whine and a moan, as if he didn't want the experience to end.

Dragging his tongue back up to her bud to focus his attention there, Michael experimentally slides one long, slender digit easily inside her, pleased at the breathy sound it seems to elicit from her. Two feelings at once, just as she'd given him before.

“Oh, shit-” 

He fights the urge to smirk when he hears that. She's so warm and wet, that it's easy to slide in the second, feeling her walls suck him in as they clamp around his fingers moving in and out of her. It's a feeling he couldn't describe if he tried, and he daren't think of what she'd feel like around his cock, or if she'd let him.

She can feel her stomach muscles tightening, an orgasm bubbling up to the surface when he gains confidence, flicking her swollen clit with his tongue and pistoning two fingers with a pornographically wet smack into her over and over. Brushing that sweet spot inside that he manages to find sometimes, seemingly without realising.

“Michael - fuck - I'm gonna-”

He groans as her fingers tug at his hair, her hips grinding herself against him and chasing that delicious friction as her high barrels through her, sparking pleasure down each notch of her spine until it fizzles out through her limbs.

She can feel Michael grinding himself against the bed, searching for his own, as he maintains his actions, lapping up everything she gives him with determination. When she dares to look down at him, as if he can sense it, his eyes open to watch her expression, the blue of his eyes nearly entirely eclipsed by black.

As if something had been awoken in him that even he couldn't recognise he'd wanted.

With one last swipe of his tongue over her centre, Michael withdraws his fingers, gripping her thigh with them and making the skin there glisten.

Her cheeks feel as if they're on fire when he rights himself to his knees before her, looking down at her with admiration at how she is still essentially half naked. The tightness at the front of his jeans makes it obvious how he felt about what he'd just done.

Engrossed by watching her breasts move as she breathes heavily, the slight shimmer of sweat on her collarbones, Michael raises his hand to his face, using his palm to wipe her slick from his lips and chin.

She breaks the silence with a tired laugh when he pushes his glasses back up his face, one half of the lenses completely fogged up. It prompts him to laugh too.

“Was I okay?”

This time she doesn't hold back her smile at the way he asks it. As if she hadn't just shaken with the force of her high all over his face.

She nods, “More than okay.”

He seems genuinely relieved.

She bites her lip as she looks at him, his cheeks all tinged pink, his mind reeling at what they'd just done.

He doesn't know what to say or do, and she can see it.

“Do you fancy having a girlfriend, Michael?” she asks.

“Uh…I've never had one, not properly anyway.”

“Yes, but would you like one?”

She watches the bob of his Adam's Apple as he swallows heavily, “Y-yeah…”

She pushes herself up to meet him where he's knelt, admiring his features for a moment, before leaning forward to kiss him, encouraging him to kiss her back. It takes a second for him to respond, but when he does, it's needy, teeth and tongues clashing as the musky taste of her is captured on him.

“Tell you what, after your exams, when you can relax, I'll be your proper girlfriend. In every way..”

His breath comes out shuddered against her lips, “what do you mean?..”

She wets her lips as she smirks, “I think you know exactly what I mean, Michael.”

She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of seeing him blushed and bothered.

And when they're both dressed, sharing awkward giggles and nervous kisses, she gives him a look with a cock of her head as he checks his wall-mounted Countdown-themed calendar.

“What you looking for?”

“My last exam is the 15th. There's exactly 12,246 minutes between now and then and all I'm going to be thinking about is whether you'll really be my girlfriend or not.”

She nearly smiles at the fact he does the maths so quickly. 8 days, 12 hours and 6 minutes until his last exam. And even though she's made it clear she wants him, he's still unsure.

She meets his gaze, unable to hide the grin off her face, “Better get studying then. You've only got 12,245 minutes left until you've got me.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian@randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya@urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorskyy

[tan1shere]

Passion Painting

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: Was watching my show when I got a little inspired by an episode :D kinda quoted a line from it too because it was fitting. I'll make it bold so you guys know ! - I literally need this woman rn (or even a dom in my asks that'll be great too.)

Summary: you get a gift so you and Billie spice things up a bit ;)

Warnings: smut ! Scissoring 🥰 bills being a bit rough 😫 (i personally love how this turned out)

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @brat-at-the-disco @iluvapplesxh @chrissv4mp @n0vabug

masterlist

The door opens, hearing keys jingle. Billie was finally home and you had missed her all day. But she doesn't come empty handed. You had just come into the room, greeting her. "Hey baby, what's that?" She sets it down. "Well, it's an early Christmas gift from Claudia. She said we can open it whenever? Whatever that means." You tilt your head. "Do we open it now?" She takes her shoes off, looking at you. "I mean if you want to, she didn't say otherwise. So I'd say its fine." She smiles at you, going over to give you a kiss.

"Good day?" - "It was ok, bit slow work wise but apart from that it was good." You say, going to pick up the box wrapped with festive paper. Bringing it over to the dining table. "How's Finn and Claudia? Did you get much done today?" She nods. "They're good, and yeah a little bit thank goodness. Glad to be home, missed you." You go to kiss her again. "I missed you. Right lets see what we have here." You say, ripping the thin material. Reading the box outloud.

Confusion strikes you. "What is it?" Billie asks. You turn it around so she can see, reading out the words to her. "Passion Painting Erotic Art Kit." She makes a face of realization. "So that's why she said to do it at night time and maybe after a date. I was so confused." You look at her. "You wanna do it?" She thinks for a moment, smirking to herself. "What? Slather you in paint and fuck you? Without a doubt babe." You grin widely. "Sounds like a plan then."

Giggles echoed though the house as you open the front door and speed over to the kit. Billie close behind. "I've actually been thinking about this all day." You admit. "Oh yeah?" She comes close to you. "Sitting in your desk at work, clenching your thighs as I smear paint all over your body. Over your curves." Your faces were close to one another, inches away. You bite your lip, averting your eyes to look at hers. They were natural apart from a little liner making them look plump and inviting. You lean in to kiss her but she pulls back.

Causing an annoyed groan to leave you. "Billie." You whine. She chuckles. That fucking chuckle. It was menacing. "Why don't we make this a little challenge." Your head tilts with intrigue. "I'm listening." She goes to unbox it, waiting a moment before she speaks again. "Let's see how long we can go without kissing one another." - "What-?" She turns around. "Don't think you can?" You think for a second. "Fine, let's see who looses." She smirks. "I think we both know who that's going to be." Your eyes roll. "Yeah yeah." But her hand grabs your jaw.

"Such an attitude for someone whos about to get fucked on the floor." Your throat closes up finding breathing to be the last thing on your mind currently. You both spread the canvas out. But in reality, you're going to be the canvas spread out at the end of the night. She'd make sure of it. You pick up the paints. Gold and blue. "Which?" She looks at them. "Hmm blue." You hand her the blue. "Right well I better get out of this." You began, back facing her. Slightly bent over as you stand back up. She smirks to herself grabbing the zip at the top of your dress. And swiftly pulling it down.

You gasp as the air hits your nipples. Since the dress had no straps you went against wearing a bra. Now standing almost fully naked in your kitchen, you two had moved some furniture around so you'd have the right space. "Oops, well I mean now all you need to take off is that tiny. Tiny. Pair of underwear." You had to process how fast she was with the dress you almost didn't register her hands pulling the thin material of your underwear off. It was only then when you realized how cool everything got. A shiver running down your spine. You wanted to kiss that smirk right off her face.

But you couldn't, you had to remember the game. "Your turn." Her smirk stays, grabbing her shirt from the back with one hand, lifting it off her head. Hair becoming messy. She takes off her pants next because she too, didn't put a bra on. There was no need. But you definitely weren't complaining. Your eyes stare for a moment. Maybe if you focused on that and not her really, inviting lips you'd be fine. But God were you wrong. You just wanted to grab her and kiss her. You both stand fully naked infront of one another.

Your nerves getting the better of you as she stalks closer to you. The lid pops off the paint. As she hands you the blue one. "We have to put it on one another." But her words went out one ear and out the other. "Hey." She says getting your attention. "Focus baby." Your eyes meet hers, handing her the gold. There was still some plastic on it so she brings it up to her mouth, getting ahold of it and ripping it off. All while keeping intense eye contact. You were going to be dripping soon. And not with paint. Her lips come to the cap, popping that off and out of her mouth. She squeezes a good amount into her hand. "You're going to be so gold you'll look like one of my Oscar's."

You gulp back saliva, you were almost drooling. Even more so when her hand makes contact with your skin. The paint was a little cold, but her burning hands soon get rid of that. Your body starts to become hot. Nerves coming back more prominent. She rubs it all over your chest, moving down to your tits, having it around most but leaving your nipples free. She had plans. Her movements were incredibly slow, making you more needy. She made sure she got your whole body, minus the places she needed access to. Standing back and letting you take over on hers.

Your shakey hand comes in contact with her neck. "Nervous?" You shake your head. "That's not really an answer huh?" You couldn't look at her, you just couldn't. You were close to giving into everything how was she so God damn calm? Your mind races as you come to her breats, you were hesitant but eager to touch them. "Why so Nervous huh? It's as if you haven't touched them before, when we both know that's not true." She was getting you to break, to give up on the game. "You're making this harder.." You whisper out. "Is that so? Darn, I didn't even realize." You pout slightly. "Can't go on?"

You think for a second, shaking your head. "Im fine." You say as your hands move over the rest of her body. "So shy, sweetheart." You swallow. "N-no I'm not." Her brow raises. "Don't lie." But she softly grabs your hand, moving them over her body. "See like that, not hard is it?" You whimper. "You're making it hard Bills." Your eyes look at her with a pleading glint. "Shame." Her eyes look down at your body. "Think its time we have our fun." She says, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down on the paper. Letting her hands move to your breasts. She had the left a part of your neck blank, bringing her lips to it and kissing.

"Billie.." You breathe out, but she moves her hands and grabs your ass tightly. "Uh uh, say it correct." Your head spins. "Mommy." - "Good girl." Your eyes shut. Trying so hard to resist the urge to kiss her. "Mommy please." You say, grabbing her arms and moving them down to her waist as she begins to move her cunt on your own. Your first moan of the night slips out. "What? Are you all sad you can't kiss me darling girl? You agreed to the challenge no?" You zip it. Hating that you did agree to it, you didn't care anymore. You go to switch positions getting ontop.

"Please let me kiss you please." Her hands rest on your lower back as you desperately move your pussy on hers. "Please Mommy, need it so bad." She smirks. "I can see angel. You've never done that before I guess you truly mean it." You pout again at her, she was playing with you and it was driving you mental. Moving down to attatch your lips to her own. But she serves, loving the little frustrated whines you let out. "You're so mean." Her hand instantly wraps around your throat and in the blink of and eye she was back ontop.

"What was that princess?" Her grip tightens making your words float away. "Hm??" You try to talk but it's no use. "Exactly what I thought." Her hand grips your thigh, hoisting it up to dangle on her shoulder. Her hand remains around your throat while the other is on the paper, close to your head and surely leaving a handprint on the almost covered paper. Your body's making art. Surely a night to remember. Her movements become harsh making your mind race, your mouth hangs open at the feeling of both of your wetness together. She watches your eyes roll back, and slowly seeing your lids drooping.

"there you go, fall into subspace that's it. You beautiful being." You had no thought other than her, the way she was fucking against you. Absolutely no words left. Her hand stays firmly around your throat. Your bodys soon come close together. Your breasts touching, nipples grazing one another and that was it. That was all it took for you two to gush against the other. Her lips come crashing down onto your own, loosening her grip to hear your sinful moans travel into her mouth. She groans as she rides out both of your orgasmns. Flopping on you to catch her breath. "Wow." You say. "Wow indeed."

You had a nice soothing shower together, getting comfortable in your bed. Snuggling up close. Until you grab your phone. "What're you doing?" She asks. "Thanking that amazing woman for even thinking of this for us." She smiles, letting out a laugh. "Thank her for me too." You then smile to yourself. "You do know you lost your own game right?"

"A wins a win when you get to fuck your girlfriend and showcase it on a wall for everyone to see and know that you're all. Mine."

[startanewdream]

can you write a fan fic on Sirius giving Harry advice on Ginny. I need Hinny fluff!

This was sent so many years months ago, hope you'll still read it, Anon!

godfatherly advice

Summary: Sirius and Remus discuss Harry's love life. Set during OotP. Around 1600 words.

“Do you remember a girl named Cho Chang?”

It is the sudden change in their talk — they had been exchanging stories of their favorite Christmas dinners at Hogwarts — that makes Remus blink, surprised. He turns to Sirius, but his friend is now looking at the far corner of the kitchen where Harry is playing Explosive Snap.

“What?”

“When you were teaching at Hogwarts,” Sirius answers, sounding impatient. “There was a girl called Cho Chang, right?”

“Right,” Remus agrees slowly. “Ah—she was in the Fourth Year. Ravenclaw. Bright girl. She wrote this essay about curses—”

Sirius waves him off. “Fourth Year,” he muses. “One year above Harry, then. Different houses. Not much in common.” He shifts his weight from one foot to another. “Pretty girl?”

He jumps. “I didn’t notice it! I was her professor—”

“Oh, get a grip.” Sirius rolls his eyes. “Think like a fifteen-year-old boy—never mind, you never mentioned your crushes back in school, I don’t think you were ever a teenager.”

Warmth floods Remus’ face, and he deviates his gaze. “Why are you asking, anyway?”

“Hum…” Sirius seems as embarrassed as he gets. “Rumour has it that Harry’s got a crush on this girl.”

“Rumour.” Remus glances at where Tonks and Hermione are talking with the Weasley twins. “I guess this rumour is friends with one of Harry’s best friends.”

“I am not discussing my sources with you. But if you can trust this particular rumour, and you can… Harry and this girl, Cho, got friendly before the end of the term.”

“Oh.” Remus watches Harry for a moment. With his overly large shirt and laughing freely as he plays Explosive Snap with Ginny Weasley, Harry doesn’t look his age. “I forgot he is old enough to have a girlfriend.”

There’s a grunt in answer. Sirius is frowning, displeased.

“What?”

“I don’t think she is his girlfriend. From what Ton—my source mentioned, it was just a snog or something like that. “

Remus raises his eyebrows. “Just a snog? That doesn’t sound like Harry.” Sure, Remus may have missed a few — a lot of — years staying away from Harry, but he got to know him during his time as a professor. And between Voldemort and the Triwizard Tournament, not to mention all the stress of this year, he doubts Harry has turned into some kind of Casanova since then. 

“No,” Sirius shakes his head. “But from what I got, Harry has had feelings for this girl for ages, but it is complicated—she was the girlfriend of the Diggory boy. The one who died in the Triwizard Tournament.”

Remus sighs. “Nothing is ever easy for Harry, is it?”

“Maybe,” Sirius mumbles, seemingly to himself. “But when Harry finally snogs the girl he’s been pinning for so long—you would think he might mention something to me.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” Remus can’t help his smirk. “You know you owe him the talk, right?”

Sirius flushes slightly. “It’s not his silence that’s upsetting,” he says haughtily, clearly determined to ignore the second part of what Remus told him. “But rather—do you remember when James and Lily finally snogged?” That familiar jolt of pain hits Remus; his smile is wistful as he nods. “James kept smiling so much that it looked as if he had overdosed on an Euphoria Elixir.”

“And he couldn’t stop babbling about it—it was three in the morning, and he was still gushing.”

“Yeah.” Sirius looks older for a moment, his gaze far away before he nods towards Harry. “Does Harry look remotely like James did?”

“I don’t know. He seems quite happy now.” And as to prove his point, Harry’s laugh echoes in the kitchen for a moment. The cards have exploded, drawing everyone’s attention, though neither Harry and Ginny seem to mind. They are chuckling, and even though his own face is painted with soot, Harry jumps to smooth the small flames over the tips of Ginny’s hair. 

“Exactly!” Sirius beacons him to come closer, his eyes shining with mischief. “And not because of this Cho Chang girl, but rather…”

Sirius’ voice drifts away, conspiratorially. It takes Remus a few seconds — during which, impatient, Sirius glances meaningfully at the place where Harry and Ginny are — before he understands.

“Harry and Ginny? They are friends.”

“So were James and Lily.”

“Yeah, but aren’t you forgetting the part where James made a fool of himself whenever Lily Evans was around?”

Sirius shrugs. “Things never happen twice the same way. In fact, rumour has it that Ginny used to have a massive crush on Harry.”

“Hmmm.” Remus considers this for a moment, before deciding it is no big secret. “This one is true, when I was her teacher, I saw how she acted whenever Harry was around… but I thought it was because of that Chamber of Secrets incident.” He shakes his head. The things Harry faced at Hogwarts…

“Very romantic, I guess. The hero saves the girl… and usually gets the girl.”

“I think the hero was too young then to care about these things.”

“And now he is older, but he doesn’t seem to be caring for the right person.”

Remus blinks. “Aren’t you being too judgemental? You have just heard about this girl.”

“I am judgmental, but not of Cho Chang. I’m judging Harry.”

“Who is acting as a teenager for once?”

“I just mean… I thought they would make a good couple. Harry and Ginny. They share the same slightly twisted sense of humour and they seem good together.”

Remus sips from his goblet, allowing himself some time to consider it. Harry and Ginny have split up now; while Ginny is chatting excitedly with Tonks and Hermione, Harry has joined Ron, but now and then he glances at Ginny’s back — fondly, not exactly romantic, but maybe there is a spark there, a seed that could grow. There had been some storm over Harry’s head during that Christmas break, something related to the vision of Arthur being attacked; that storm is gone now, and though Remus has no idea of what exactly unfolded, somehow he thinks it was because of Ginny Weasley.

“They would match,” he agrees, and then, because this is Sirius he’s talking to, he adds carefully, “but you shouldn’t meddle with them.”

“I would never,” Sirius rebuffs at once, but there is a mischief spark in his eyes, so alive, that Remus knows this isn’t the end of it.

“Sirius—”

“Speaking about match-making, don’t you think my cousin looks splendid tonight?”

The inevitable flush that floods his cheeks is enough to make Remus change the subject.

He isn’t really surprised to find out, a couple hours later, that Sirius has cornered Harry as they clean up the last remains of supper. 

“How are things at Hogwarts? Any good news?”

Harry seems taken aback. “You know how things are,” he says, looking at Sirius as if he’s considering his godfather lost his mind. Remus winces, then unsuccessfully tries to get Sirius’ attention.

“I was thinking about things you might not mention in a letter or during a fireplace call, like… Maybe some romance in the air?”

Smoothness, Remus considers, was never Sirius’ strength. Harry flushes a deep red, all his attention in drying the dishes as if his life depends upon it.

“Er—okay. Not anything worth mentioning, just the same.”

“The same,” repeats Sirius slowly. Perhaps he senses that Harry is ready to run — his eyes have shifted to the door a couple times as if he is considering how many steps he needs to be away from there — because Sirius suddenly smiles. “You know, your father never had eyes for anyone but your mother.”

Harry’s eyes open. “Really?”

“Really.” Sirius looks only encouraged. “Now, James was a popular guy, a Quidditch hero, had a great sense of humor, and of course an amazing taste in his best friend, so there were girls chasing after him, but he never cared for anyone else. And he was right, because he and Lily… they were just perfect, destined to be together.”

There’s a dreamy expression on Harry’s face. Remus knows Harry is away thirsty for any information he might receive from his parents, so he may just be considering this new piece of the puzzle that are his parents. But as he drifts, destined or not, Harry’s gaze seems to fall on the corner where Ginny is now sitting by herself, playing with the cat.

And Sirius, bless him, notices it. He barely contains a grin.

“So, you get what I mean, right? When you find the one, you know you did. Someone with whom you really connect, someone who makes you laugh, who gets you. You don’t waste your time snogging anyone else…”

Harry blinks, suddenly pulled back to Earth. “Snogging?” His gaze is suspicious. “Who said anything about me… snogging?”

“No one. This is not the point, I just—”

“It’s late, I should get some sleep.” Harry glances helplessly at Remus, who nods.

“We’ll leave for St Mungo’s early tomorrow,” he agrees.

“Right.” Sirius looks as flustered as Harry does. “But Harry—you understood what I said? About the one—”

“Yes, yes.” Now Harry is almost at the door. “Good night!”

Remus gives him a few seconds before shaking his head at Sirius. “You should not have—”

“I just did what I am sure James and Lily would like me to do. They would adore Ginny.” The mischief is back on Sirius’ eyes. “Speaking of—I heard Ginny might be dating someone, I think she needs a piece of advice as well.”

“Fred and George have mentioned her Bat Bogey Hex—” But Sirius is not listening to him anymore, already crossing the room. Remus sighs as he sits to watch the scene; he supposes he could use a last laugh before going to bed.

[henrycangelbaby]

In which: Joel wanted to say so many things—to apologize for the time he had lost together, to say sorry for losing her—but he couldn't. He pulled back slightly, encompassing her face with his hands. She leaned into him, nuzzling her cheek into his palm.

Or

Joel is reunited with his babygirl.

The house is quiet when Joel gets home; it's rather surprising to him; he expects to hear giggles coming from the kitchen or the living room, but the only thing that he can hear is the low chatter of the TV in the next room over. He wonders if maybe Sarah has decided to be responsible and send herself and Y/N off to bed at a reasonable time, but he doubts it; the two of them never really seemed to put responsibility over having a good time together.

 Joel doesn't even remember when Y/N and Sarah had become best friends. It felt like it had just been this way forever; he remembers when a very young Sarah had come home practically begging to have her new best friend to sleep over one night, and suddenly Y/N was sleeping over every other night. He should have been annoyed about it. Joel already had enough on his plate, raising Sarah by himself, but she had been such a sweet kid, so kind and lovely to Sarah. They seemed so inseparable, spending all day at school together to only to come home together giggling over things he didn't understand at the dinner table before crashing together in Sarah's bed for the night.

 He simply couldn't say no to yet another sleepover, so when Sarah called him after getting home from school, asking if Y/N could stay the night, he mockingly sighed before agreeing wholeheartedly. 

Joel found them in the living room together. The question of the silence was quickly answered when he saw Sarah laying on the couch; a peaceful sleep overtaken her. He then spots her best friend next to her. Y/N isn't asleep; instead, she sits awake, her head propped up dangerously on her palm. The sight of it makes Joel smile a little bit; despite everything, Y/N was a good kid. 

The older that she had gotten, the more he had gotten insight into why she spent so much time at his house. She spoke occasionally of her father's temper, her mother's ignorance, and how it had scared her and how sometimes she couldn't sleep from the fear. It had made his heart ache, as well as quelling any annoyance that he had felt feeding four people instead of three. Y/N had been a part of their family for years now; she spent all the holidays with them, buying everyone Christmas presents as well as doing chores around the house when Sarah did.

Her presence made Sarah very happy, and it eased Joel's worry for her. As long as she was under his roof, she was safe and happy, and that's what matters. 

Y/N's head snapped up at the sound of Joel's boots walking into the living room; she smiled up at him before, pointing to Sarah and miming for him to be quiet. He smirked as he sat down next to her. She launched into hugging him the moment he was sat, her eyes bright with enthusiasm.

 “Happy birthday, Joel!” 

He chuckled, his heart warmed by the action. “Thanks, baby girl,” he spoke before she continued, “I'm sorry I could be here this morning to make breakfast for you.” She pouted lightly. He just shook his head, patting her on the head gently. 

“That's ok, you're here now,” he assured her. “How've you been, honey?” 

He tried to be subtle about the way he worried for her wellbeing; he knew it had only been one day since he'd seen her, but both him and Sarah had been a little taken aback when she hadn't shown up at school the previous day. 

“Everything ok?” He asked, 

she hummed, “Yeah, I missed you and Sarah yesterday." 

As if awakened by her name, Sarah slowly sat up while Joel responded, “We missed you too." 

Joel turned his attention to Sarah as she sat up. “What are you girls doing up so late?" 

“Crud, what’s the time?” Sarah asked, looking up at the clock,

 “Way past your bedtime." Joel said

"But it’s still today,” she spoke.

Joel watched suspiciously as Y/N reached down to grab something while Sarah was talking, handing it to Sarah behind her back. Joel fought the urge to roll his eyes at their antics: 

“Listen girls, please not right now; I don’t have the energy for this." 

Before he could continue to complain, Sarah passed a box into his hands. “Here,” 

his curiosity peaked. “What’s this?” 

“Your birthday, silly." Y/N answered. 

He opened the box slowly, smirking slightly at the sight of a watch-shaped gift inside.

“You kept complaining about your broken watch,” Sarah explained,

“so we figured well.” Y/N continued,

“You like it?” They asked together, young eyes peering up at him; 

He couldn't help himself from pulling a small joke on them. "Girls, this is...” 

They cocked their heads in confusion together.

 “It's nice, but i… I think it's stuck; it's not." 

They leaned over in concern, looking at each other confused. 

“No.” Y/N was quick to state.

“What?” Sarah added.

He smirked. Y/N was the first to realize he was messing with them. “Ha ha, very funny Joel." 

Sarah slapped his arm away lightly.

“Where'd you guys get the money for this anyway?” he questioned. 

“Drugs,” Sarah answered without missing a beat. 

Y/N nodded alongside her. “Yeah, we sell drugs, only the hardcore stuff,” she added on. 

“This is great news; you two can start helping me out with the mortgage,”.

They shook their heads. “You wish." 

He knew it wouldn't be long until they both knocked out with the TV on in the background. Soon enough, they were passed out laying on top of each other in the way they usually did. He took them up to Sarah's bed one by one; he could remember a time when they had fit on one arm each, carrying them both effortlessly to bed.

Oh, how times had changed. 

It was the phone ringing that woke Y/N up; she had ended up on the side closest to it, likely (definitely) courtesy of Joel. The ringing wouldn't stop; she picked up the phone hesitantly, 

“Hello?” “Y/N? Sweetie, is that you?” 

She recognized his voice the moment he spoke, 

“Yeah, Tommy, what's up?” 

“I need you to put Joel on the phone now; can you do that for me, honey?” 

“Um,” she tried to think her brain was too sleepy to process what he was saying. 

“I need to speak to him now there's som-” 

The phone cut off before he could finish speaking. What was happening? 

Y/N gently shook Sarah awake, worried about Tommy's odd phone call. Sarah awoke to the pleas of her name. She pushed herself up gently. 

“What's going on? Y/N, what time is it?” 

Y/N ignored the question, explaining panickedly about the phone call. Sarah only looked at her worried.

“Let's go find dad.” She offered her hand out. 

The young girls walked around hand in hand, calling for Joel in the quiet, abandoned house. They stopped together inside Joel's room; the TV was playing a news report being shown despite the late time. They both turned around at a loud sound of something in the distance. 

“Uh.. What was that?” Sarah questioned

Y/N shrugged beside her, “Something weird is happening, Sarah." 

The empty kitchen was lit up by Joels phone screen, the ringing the only sound in the otherwise deserted kitchen. 

“8 missed calls,” Sarah stated after peering at the busted lock screen, “where the hell are you?” 

Y/N hummed; this was all so weird. The attention of the two girls was suddenly pulled to the sound of a door being yanked open. Joel stepped through it, slamming it shut behind him. Sarah let out a breath in relief.

“There you are, we whe-” 

“Girls.” Joel interrupted, his tone suddenly serious. “Are you both okay?” He continued; 

They both nodded confused. He spoke again, his back to them, busying himself with something. 

“Has anyone come in here?” Sarah and Y/N shared a glance 

“No” Sarah answered, 

“Why would anyone be in here?” Y/N added on. 

He shook his head, muttering to himself, “Stay back, okay? Away from the door.”

 Sarah spoke again, “Dad, you're freaking us out a little." 

“Joel, what's going on?” Y/N asked

“It's the Coopers.” He responded quickly and seriously, “Something ain't right with 'em."

"Are they sick?” Y/N asked worriedly

 “Yeah.” He let out a breath, "Yeah, they are."  

A sudden thud scared them, both jumping back in fright. Joel cursed under his breath, 

“C'mere.” 

He motioned for the two girls to stand behind him, pushing them away from the door. Suddenly the glass on the door was smashed, warnings flew out of Joel's mouth, none of them heard as the gunshot rang through the house, the material of his shirt quickly fisted in fear.He pushed them backwards, ignoring their pleas for an explanation.

"Listen, my girls,” he spoke seriously. “There is something bad going on." 

"We have to get out of here; you understand me.” The young girls shared a scared look before agreeing. 

They were quickly ushered to a waiting Tommy, he spoke angrily towards an unfocused Joel, who was ensuring both girls got into the car. Perhaps he had underestimated the chaos of the apocalypse, but nothing was going well; the roads were cut off and traffic piled up. The closer they got into the city, the worse it got.

He swore they were doing fine, until suddenly the only thing he could hear and see was the impact. 

Fuck. They had been hit.

His head felt fuzzy; he couldn't think straight. He pulled himself up; his heart dropped slightly when he saw his girls. Y/N was peering over at something– someone.

 “Joel!” she shouted quickly at him. She sounded so scared. "Joel, please, Sarah,” she insisted. 

Joel was rather horrified to find that Sarah had an injured leg. He helped her up into his arms. He turned to Y/N quickly. 

“Are you okay, honey? Hurt?” 

She shook her head. “I think I'm fine,”

He nodded. “Okay, listen, stay close by; don't go anywhere.” 

She turned around to find Tommy offering out his hand, insisting that she shouldn't let go. The streets were chaos; Joel could hardly think straight; adrenaline was coursing through his veins, anxiety forming a pit in his stomach; they ran far, dodging the people, avoiding the fire. The world had really turned in an instant.

Despite that, things were okay for a second.

They were suddenly being chased; the things, the creatures were on their trail. Tommy quickly slammed the door behind them, trapping the infected on the other side.

“Get to the highway!” he yelled, ignoring Joel and Sarah's questions as he pushed an upset Y/N towards them.

“Go!” he yelled, “hurry!”. 

Joel took his girls and ran. He didn't make it very far; before he was stopped by a soldier, Joel tried desperately to get his message across, insisting they needed help for his daughters.  

"Joel,” he heard a whimper from behind him, the soldier pointing the gun towards them. 

Suddenly they were down, he lost eyes on his girls only hearing the bullet, before he could think, beg for his life from the unrelenting soldier, another gunshot rang out, this time taking the soldier down. 

“Oh no…” Joel's heart felt like it might tear out of his chest.

 He runs over to Sarah; he feels sick. The blood in the way she cries—nothing can fix the ache he feels. She dies; Sarah dies in his arms; he holds her close, pretending that he can feel her heartbeat against him, but he can’t; her blood seeps through onto his clothes and his hands; it stains his heart forever in a way that is indescribable. He can't think, he can't feel nothing moves around them as he holds her close; eventually he's brought out of his haze. 

Tommy speaks carefully at him, “Joel?” 

He shakes his head in response, unwilling to address him. Tommy persists, 

“Joel, where is she?” 

It angers Joel. “What?” he snaps, turning towards Tommy, who stands quickly. Suddenly,  his heart drops. Tommy looks frantically around; he disappears out of Joel's eyeline. Joel knows exactly what he is looking for and who he is looking for. He can’t even get an explanation out, his mouth unwilling to move, to stutter around the excuse that he had just seen her; he swore Y/N had just been behind him a second ago. 

But she wasn't. 

Tommy searches frantically and messily, screaming himself hoarse, yelling her name over and over again as if she might magically appear from around the corner, but she's nowhere to be found. Tommy's knees collapse from under him when he sees it; the bloody flannel lies abandoned on the ground. Tommy recognizes it instantly; he had brought it. He remembers exactly the intent behind his purchase; he had laughed to himself when he saw the opposing color flannels, the light purple and blue reminding him so badly of his two nieces he had purchased them on the spot. 

The light blue that had reminded so much of Y/N was now sitting a few feet away from him, stained dark red. He picks it up, his hands suddenly stained red by the fresh blood. He feels sick; he is sick. He throws up when he lifts the blanket close to him, unable to stomach the warmth it still holds. 

Tommy walks back towards Joel in a haze, both of them gone. In minutes— how had they let this happen? 

Joel flinches instinctively when he hears Tommy walking back towards him; he hasn't let up on Sarah, unable to move away as her skin grows cold under his touch. Tommy doesn't say anything; he doesn't step aside to reveal a scared but alive Y/N holding his hand. Instead, he drops down beside Joel, keeping his eyes downcast, unable to look at Sarah as he hands over the flannel silently. 

“Tommy what?” Joel asks in disbelief, “Where is she?” 

Tommy could only shake his head in response, 

"Tommy, what the fuck where is sh-” 

“Christ Joel, she's gone.” Tommy interrupted him angrily. He gestured to the flannel, “probably already fucking dead.” He finished his chest, heaving with anger. 

There is nothing to explain the feeling that rips through Joel's chest; his heart feels shredded and ripped up into so many pieces he may never be able to put them back together. 

“My girls, my babygirls,” Joel mutters under his breath, tears leaking down his cheeks. 

Tommy takes the Flannel back, placing it gently over Sarah. This is how she would've wanted it, he thinks; she would have wanted to be close to Y/N in some capacity. The lone flannel was the only thing they had left of her, and Sarah needed it more than they did.

Jackson had been good to Joel, or at least that’s what the people around him think. He sees it in Ellie. She seems happier and more free. They've been here long enough for her to start settling down and making friends; she has three hearty meals a day and is receiving some form of education. The people around him say that they see it in him as well. Maria comments lowly to them that he seems more relaxed, a benefit that he now gets along better with her (and all the other residents of Jackson). 

Tommy had teased that he had filled out slightly with all the food Jackson had to provide. He had tried to care, that he had put on weight, that he was getting older, but after everything he had suffered through, his brother's teasing had rolled right off his shoulders. It felt like a good thing anyway, being able to be happy, healthy, and safe. 

But something didn't feel right. There was an anxiety that had settled deep in Joel's chest; he was unable to shake the feeling that something bad was coming. He knew that it was just in his head, his life since the outbreak had been on the run; the new peacefulness that had come with Jackson was almost unnerving to him. Perhaps it was the domesticity of it all that had really gotten to him. Although he was happy, he had Ellie and his brother and everyone else that came along with that; his heart ached in a way he felt he could tell anyone about. 

All of this, the community, the events, and the seasons. It had been years since he had celebrated Christmas; in fact, he had been unable to celebrate it since he had lost his girls. Even in Jackson, when the opportunity opened up for decorations and presents, he had to turn it down. The thought of putting up a tree without Y/N or Sarah made him ill. They had both loved Christmas; Texas winters were unforgivingly cold, but they had always seemed warmer alongside his small family.

He's sick of thinking about her. Jackson had allowed Joel time to reflect; perhaps time really does heal all wounds. Time and being surrounded by people that care about him has allowed him to reflect; the once gaping wound that had been Sarah was now patched over. For the first time since her death, he felt he was able to celebrate what her life had been instead of beating himself up for the fact that it had ended. He started to see past his loss, slowly letting Ellie in; he had even been able to tell Ellie briefly about Sarah; they would have been friends. good friends, at least Joel thought so. 

Joel felt that he could finally love Sarah's memory in the way he had loved her. Fully and without guilt. He couldn't do the same with Y/N. Her memory was a gaping infected wound that nothing could seem to heal. He refused to talk about her. Of course Tommy knew; Maria had some sort of idea through Tommy, but he couldn't even stand for either of them to mention her name. He was sure Ellie knew; there was a photo of Y/N in his bedroom. She was younger than Ellie in the photo, and it was very clearly not Sarah, but she had never asked about it. The wound still felt so fresh; it felt like it was poked every time he thought of her. 

He knew it was the guilt; she would be by his side, a fully grown woman if he had been paying attention. Maybe she would have already been in Jackson when they arrived, having stayed by Tommy's side through the outbreak. But she wasn’t. They had turned their backs for a minute, and she was just gone. Probably killed, with no one to care for her or mourn her. She had probably been so scared, and no one was around to be there for her. Joel would give anything to have been able to hold her close and tell her everything would be okay, but it wasn't; nothing was okay.

“Joel?” 

He hums in response to Ellie; they're sitting eating dinner together. Dinners together have become fewer, and after between the longer they stay in Jackson. Ellie is busier than him; friends, love interests, and hobbies take up more and more of her time. Although he sometimes misses seeing her 24/7 as long as she is happy, he is. 

“What's up?” he asks as she darts her eyes around nervously. Almost as if she is hiding something from him. 

“Can I ask you something?” She sounds scared. 

“Of course, kiddo,” he answers, confused. Ellie has no reason to be scared of him anymore. 

“You promise you won’t get angry?” she insists again. 

He nodded, agreeing with her, “Yeah, I promise."

Ellie takes a deep breath before asking, “Did you, um, did you have another daughter?” She stutters out. 

Joel feels locked in place for a second; the question takes him so off guard his heart stops beating in his chest for a second. Ellie opens her mouth quickly to apologize, fearing that she has overstepped, but he shakes his head at her in response. He allows them to sit in silence for a moment, considering his next option before he speaks. 

“It's complicated,” he says; truthfully, he doesn't even know where to start.

Ellie is quick to try and smooth over any problems: “It's just something Tommy said—probably misheard him or something; it's silly, real-." Ellie spoke, but she was cut off by Joel, who unintentionally interrupted her. 

“She wasn't technically mine,” he said quietly, unable to look up from his dinner. 

"Huh?" ellie asked in confusion, 

“She was Sarah's best friend.” He clarified quickly, “They were inseparable, had been best friends for years; she spent every other night and all holidays at my house." He choked out; for the first time in 20 years he was talking about Y/N, and it was making his head spin.

“Is she the one in the photo?” Ellie asked, referring to the photo of the unnamed girl that had sat on Joel's dresser ever since they had settled in Jackson. 

He nodded in response, 

“Her name was Y/N.” He spoke her name for the first time in years; it felt heavy on his tongue. 

“Was?” Ellie asked, “Is she, um, well gone?” She was unwilling to say dead, worried that it might provoke a sensitive Joel. 

He remains quiet for a second before answering her lowly "probably." 

Ellie goes to ask more, confused by his vague answer, but he shakes his head, stopping her. “I think that's enough questions for tonight, kiddo,” he states firmly. She nods in response before turning back to her food. Ellie doesn't approach Joel about it again; she can tell that she has received all the information that he is willing to give and doesn't want to make him angry. 

She redirects her curiosity to Tommy; not straight after she waits to get him alone, they end up on patrol together. Technically, he isn't not actually patrolling; Joel is still very much unwilling to let Ellie do anything even slightly dangerous, but she scopes out the landscapes with Tommy occasionally shooting when he allows her. It gives her a sense of freedom, even if Joel is sitting back at the patrol tower waiting for them. 

“Tommy?” he looks up at her, quickly distracted from the gun in his lap. 

“What's up?” he asks with a small smile on his face. He doesn't often get to spend time with Ellie; she's a good patrol partner despite Joel's resistance. 

“Can I ask you about something?” She says carefully, and he stops walking for a second, eyeing her up suspiciously. She doesn't usually ask him things; he wonders if she is doing the same thing Sarah used to do when Joel told her no: turn to the next responsible adult in her life (him) and ask for the same thing until she got a yes.

"Listen, if Joels already said no, I'm not gonna say yes, ok?” He is quick to lay down the law. She cringes at that quickly recovering her face to look at him. 

“It's not that ok, I just want to ask you about someone,” she tells him. 

“Yeah, sure.” Tommy says his curiosity piqued. 

“Is Y/N alive?” Tommy's breath hitched, his heart speeding up at the name. 

“How do you know her?” He asks

“Joel told me.” She responds quickly, and he lets out a breath. If Joel had already spoken about it, it was fine. He tries to find the words before he speaks them, but he comes up short. 

“Alive? Well probably not,” he speaks, the truth that has been simmering in the back of his mind for years. 

“Did you see her die?” Ellie asks

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “She went missing when Sarah was killed, disappeared into thin air, and only left behind some bloody clothes.” He explains, 

“You haven't seen her since?” Ellie asked, 

“No, probably fuckin’ dead anyway." Tommy dismisses in a way that is so reminiscent of his brother. Ellie doesn't pry anymore; she knows enough to satisfy her curiosity. She feels strangely closer to Joel with the new information, her heart a little softer for the old man. 

Things in Jackson remain uneventful; people come in seeking the warmth and comfort that Jackson provides; patrols come and go; people begin to prepare for Christmas. The decorations going up make Joel's heart ache like it does every year, but he survives. Things are fine. Ellie doesn't press anymore about his past, which he is grateful for. She opts to spend more time with him than she used to, which is strange, but he would always value her company. 

Maria spends less and less time going out on patrol these days; she has bigger problems in the community, and with the rate that Jackson is growing, she feels like she spends every other waking moment greeting people and assigning houses. It's nice to get out sometimes; technically she should be protecting Jackson, but the path she's on seems harmless. The logbook remained clear of any disturbances for months now; it's just Maria and the heavy snow that had fallen as a consequence of Jackson's cold winters. Everything is peaceful and calm, even until she hears a gunshot ring out. 

It comes from close by—a lodge that had been abandoned forever ago. It was useless to the people of Jackson and had long sat by itself rotting away into the mountain. She has to go investigate the sound. Who could be there? Perhaps it was another patrol in need of help. She arrives quickly. The building looks to be empty; there is no light coming from it, no obvious signs of life. Maria knows better than to let her guard down, holding her rifle close to her chest as she yells out, urging anyone to come forward, yell for help. No one responds; she hears feet move quickly from a room somewhere; following the sound, she turns into a room; she walks in slowly; the person is backed into a corner, unable to escape. 

Maria steps closer, her view of the person's face skewed by a cloth wrapped around their lower face.

“Drop your weapon,” Maria orders quickly; they don't drop their weapon, instead bring it closer to them with a shaking hand. 

“Please,” they plead quickly. 

Maria falters for a second, the woman's voice taking her by surprise. 

“Please, I'm sorry for running; just leave me alone.” The woman all but begs; she doesn't sound dangerous; she sounds scared. Maria slowly lowers her gun, walking closer carefully.

“I won't hurt you,” she quickly promises to the younger woman. “Are you infected?” 

The woman shakes her head in response.

 “I’m not, I swear,” the woman says. 

“Are you alone?” Maria asks cautiously; she hadn't heard or seen anyone else in the desolate building, but she couldn't be too sure; she only receives a nod in response. 

“I’m Maria,” she offers quickly. She raises her eyebrows as an indication for the other woman to give her name. 

Maria watches as the younger woman pulls the fabric of her lower face; she speaks clearer without the fabric blocking her. 

“Y/N.” 

Oh, Maria pauses; she hadn't heard that name in a while, not since Tommy had retold Ellie’s prodding of his lost pseudo niece. The thought flashes through her mind quickly; there was no way. Tommy had swore she had died. What were the chances? Probably very little. She doesn't let the thought linger, moving to be face-to-face with the woman. 

"Listen, I'm from a commune; come back with me,” Maria offers.

Y/N stares back at her almost as if she was insulted by Maria's suggestion, 

“Why?” Y/N asks,

“Well, you're all alone out here." Maria states honestly, it wasn't exactly like this Y/N girl had anything else going for her. 

“Are you going to kill me?” Y/N asks, and Maria laughs gently. 

“If I had wanted you dead, I would've done it five minutes ago,” she says humorously. 

Y/N smiles gently at her, picking up her bag from beside her walking out after Maria. Maria helps Y/N up first onto the horse; she seems awkward getting up there. Maria watches curiously as she places a hand under her stomach, using the other arm and Maria's help to haul herself onto the horse.

Was she? Maria had found her alone, but maybe she hadn’t always been; maybe that's why she had been so scared that Maria was going to kill her. Her suspicions are all but confirmed when she instructs Y/N to hold on tight to her as they ride. Maria can feel it poking into her back. 

A baby bump. 

“Are you p-” Maria goes to ask, but she is interrupted quickly. 

“Yeah,” Y/N responds. 

Maria isn't quite sure what to make of her tone of voice; she sounds upset, almost. 

“How far along are you?” Maria asks gently.

she feels a shrug from behind her.

“A few months, hard to say really.” Y/N responds; 

Maria nods, “I’ll have you checked out with the doctor later.” She offers,

“That would be nice." Y/N responds, pulling her arms a bit tighter around Maria. 

They get into Jackson after dark; the town deserted as everyone stays home, keeping out the cold. There are a few people around doing odd jobs. Maria helps Y/N down off the horse she turns to one of them men who had been standing guard right inside the wall, “she's safe” she starts. Bringing strangers into Jackson wasn't exactly a normal thing; they were usually brought to Maria after being found. 

"Listen, I need you to get Tommy; tell him to meet me outside of the hall in ten,” the man moves off with a 'yes, ma’am,' while Maria turns towards Y/N.

"You wanna eat something?” She asks Y/N and nods, “Yeah, me too." Maria exhales.

They eat together in silence. Y/N sheds her winter coat to reveal a medium-sized baby bump. Maria isn't an expert, but she would estimate around the 5-month mark. Their eating is interrupted when the doors to the other empty hall are opened. Maria quickly gets out of her chair, promising to be back soon. 

Tommy looks confused as Maria pushed him away from the main hall; he had seen she was eating with someone, but Maria had quickly ushered him away. She exhaled before speaking,

"Tommy.” He nodded. “You have to listen to me, ok?”

He nodded again, confused by her tone of voice. Had he done something wrong? Was she angry with him? 

“Is everything okay?” he asked curiously. She nodded at him. 

“Listen,” she started. “I need you to help me identify the girl in there.” She spoke seriously. 

Tommy was confused. No one had ever asked him to identify anyone before. Who was this girl? Why did he have to identify her? 

“Who is she?” he asked. Maria gently placed her hands on his shoulders. 

“You need to be calm about this, okay?” she asked. 

He felt his heart rate pick up at the insinuation. 

“What?” He asked, confused again. 

Maria started hesitantly, “I think.” 

He encouraged her to keep speaking with a nod, 

“I think she’s Joel's daughter.” 

His breath hitched; he knew exactly who she was talking about; there was no way. Y/N was here? 

“I can't be sure, ok, same name, similar ages, but I didn't know her; you did,” 

He stared at Maria for a moment, unsure what to say. Suddenly an surge of energy overtook him; she had lived, Y/N was alive and well, and she had been sitting eating dinner with his wife. 

“Okay!” he said a little louder than he had intended, adrenaline in his veins making him energetic. 

Maria grabbed his arm before he could walk into the hall.

“Tommy, you can't just go in there guns ablazing okay?” Maria warned him, 

“What? I want to see her!” he insisted  Maria sighed,

“I know you do; it's just that." She started but didn't finish her sentence, 

“What, what is it?” He asked urgently, 

"Tommy, she's pregnant.”

He felt his heart stop; she was pregnant. She couldn't be. His heart ached with the fact of her age. How could she be old enough to be a mother herself? He choked on the revelation for a second. 

“She's a little fragile, okay. She's been on her own for a while. I don't want to scare her.” 

He let a breath out slowly before nodding.

“Just identify her, and we can go from there,” she promised him.

He followed behind her closely. She was the only one in the hall, and due to the late hour, Y/N picked at her food slowly, almost as if she was savoring every bite, scared that it might be the last meal she ate. The thought made his heart clench. They approached slowly; he trailed behind Maria, and as soon as he got close enough to see her face, he knew it was her. It felt like there was a shift in the air; he could feel it in the pit of his stomach. 

Being so close to Y/N made him feel weak. He had sworn for so long that she was dead, mourned the loss of one of the most precious people in his life, and here she was sitting in front of him, oblivious to his inner turmoil, oblivious to him standing behind Maria. Maria cleared her throat. 

“Y/N?” she asked, catching the woman's full attention. 

She looked up from her food, nodding at Maria in lieu of a response. 

“There's someone you need to meet, ok?” She looked hesitantly at Maria, suddenly aware that they weren't alone in the room. 

Before he could even comprehend the worry on her face, he stepped out fully into Y/N's view. The room stood still for a second; he panicked in turn at Y/N's silence; had she forgotten him? The thought made his heart clench. 

“Tommy?” A voice broke him through his haze; it sounded so small, almost like she was 13 again. 

He stepped closer to Y/N 

"Tommy, is it really you?” she asked hesitantly, almost like she didn't want to know the answer. 

He nodded as Y/N stood up. He could barely open his arms quick enough before she was hugging him. His arms were tightly around her shoulders. It was all suddenly so real. Y/N had lived. She was here right now in his arms. He pulled back slightly, placing his hands on her shoulders. His eyes brimmed with tears as he surveyed her face; she was so grown up. 

"Christ, honey,” he breathed, “so gorgeous and grown up.” 

Y/N smiled at him bashfully, re-lopping her hands around his neck to pull him close once again. 

“I missed you, Tommy,” she admitted quietly, 

"yeah, I missed you too, more than you know."

He watched as she finished her food, raising an eyebrow at her when she left some of it on her plate, insisting she was full; she wasn't. 

“Tommy?” she asked in between mouthfuls. 

“What's up?” he responded. 

He was willing to tell her just about anything to hear her voice again. 

“Is um-?” She started sounding unsure. “Is Joel alive?” she asked barely above a whisper. 

Tommy smiled again, even wider than he had been; Joel was alive; in fact, he was here, in Jackson, to stay. He moved his chair next to hers, putting an arm around her shoulder. 

“Yeah, he is alive,” he said, smirking lightly. She seemed to exhale at this. 

“In fact, honey, he's here.” Her eyes met his for a second, almost as if she thought he might be lying to her. 

“He's here?” She asked, “In this place?” 

"Jackson,” he supplied for her quickly. 

“In Jackson?” she asked again. 

“Yes, he is. I promise you.” Tommy said seriously. 

Y/N looked at him hopefully. 

“Can I see him?” she asked. 

Tommy glanced at the clock in the big hall before shaking his head.

“It's late; the old man will already be sleeping,” Tommy joked. 

It brought a small smile to her face. 

“How about this?” Tommy started, “You can sleep in my spare bedroom tonight; I'll take you to see him first thing in the morning.” he offered.  

She smiled widely at him, pushing up and out of her chair, a hand delicately under her belly. 

“Maria mentioned something about warm water?” Y/N asked, 

“Yeah, we got that. Take a warm shower before bed if you want.” Tommy spoke. 

Y/N seemed to light up at the prospect of that, gladly placing her hand in the crook of his elbow as they walked together towards his house. 

Tommy wakes up early the next morning. He gently peeks in through the door of his guest bedroom, a breath of relief coming from him as he sees a sleeping Y/N. He had woken up panting lightly pulled from his sleep by fear that it had all been a dream, but it wasn't. Y/N was here sleeping peacefully in the room next to his and Maria's bedroom. 

Tommy was not typically an early riser—not that he had much choice since the world had ended, but it wasn't exactly his calling. He was more like Sarah in that respect; he can recall getting up several hours into Saturday mornings to find that she was still sleeping. Y/N had been the opposite of Sarah, a naturally early riser, who Tommy would often find talking to Joel over a hot chocolate (or in Joel's case, a coffee) on said mornings. They would tease him gently about how they “had been up for hours” before everyone argued about who had the chore of waking Sarah up (they almost always sent Y/N; she was definitely Sarah's favourite amongst the three of them; they always came downstairs together giggling about something a far departure from her usual morning attitude). 

He knows that Joel will be up already; Jackson is waking up slowly; people making their way out of their warm houses, and Joel is no exception. He had always been the early riser out of the brothers; Joel had spent every morning she was there chatting to Y/N in the kitchen as they prepared for the day before anyone else is up. 

Tommy takes a deep breath before knocking; he had tried to plan out what he was going to say. Trying to tell your older brother that his (not technically) daughter that he spent years mourning was actually alive—in fact, she was asleep right now in Tommy's spare bedroom—was far harder than he had anticipated. 

He knocks lightly, unwilling to disturb the otherwise peaceful neighbourhood. It doesn't take long for Joel to answer; he looks unsurprised to see Tommy standing there, inviting him in quickly to sit at the dining table. Tommy isn't sure where to start when Joel asks him what's up, 

"Joel.” He starts seriously, “There is something I need to tell you." 

Joel lets a look of confusion wash over his face. 

“What?” he asks Tommy bluntly. 

Tommy suddenly understood why Maria had been acting so strange yesterday; this was a hard conversation. 

"Joel,” he tried again. "Y/N,” Tommy started, but his sentence was interrupted quickly by Joel. 

“Don’t even start Tommy,” he stated angrily. 

Joel didn't want to ever have to tell anyone about his failing towards the once-young girl; after telling Ellie, it had been too much. Tommy shook his head, effectively silencing an angry-looking Joel. 

“Y/N is alive,” Tommy said firmly. 

Joel quickly turned to disbelief, blinking at Tommy as if this were some cruel joke. 

“Look, Maria found her yesterday a while out; brought her back last night." Tommy continued on, 

"Is it  really her?” Joel asked in disbelief, 

“Yeah, I saw her last night. God, Joel, she was so grown up, I couldn't believe it.” Tommy rambled, 

“Can I see her? Now?” Joel asked quickly. 

Tommy frowned at Joel, not wanting to break his bubble the way Maria had to him last night. 

“Not yet ok?” Tommy spoke carefully. “Maria is taking her to see the doctor, then you can,” he explained. 

Tommy watched the flash on panic crossover Joel's face answering Joel's question before he could even ask it.

“She's fine, not hurt or anything, I mean." Tommy assured me he hesitated before speaking again. “But there is one thing." 

"What?” Joel asked snappily,

“She's pregnant.” Tommy offered. 

Joel couldn't think for a moment, his heart clenching in his chest. 

“Really?” 

Tommy only nodded in response.

 “My baby girl, having a baby?” he spoke aloud. 

The words rang in his ears, when had she gotten so old? Joel swore that she was still the young teenage girl he could remember her being. 

“I'll bring her over to yours when she's done, okay?” Tommy told Joel, gently patting his older brother's shoulders as he stood to leave.

Joel nodded in response, unsure of what to say; he had had too many revelations for one day, and it was making his head spin. 

He couldn't think after that and sat at his dining table staring at the abandoned cold cup of coffee; if he stared at it for long enough, he could see her face; perhaps he was really losing it seeing a thirteen-year-old Y/N in his cold cup of coffee.

A knock at the door pulls him violently out of his own head. He knocks over the cold cup of coffee, swearing as it begins to drip off the side of the table. 

“One sec!” he yells out, continuing to swear under his breath as he quickly cleans it up.

His hands shake lightly as he throws the dirty cloth into the sink. He takes a deep breath, unaffectedly trying to steady himself. He opens the door slowly and is greeted with the sight of Tommy smiling at him as he steps closer to Joel.

“I'm gonna leave y’all to it, okay?” 

Joel nods before Tommy steps back, revealing a nervous-looking Y/N behind him. 

Joel can't even process it unmoving as he takes her in fully; she had grown. Of course she had, but it still made his heart ache. Before he can even think about the wetness occurring on his eyeline as he pulls her close, he grips her so tight, gripping the back of her head against his chest.

“Joel” Y/N whimpers, looking up at him with wet eyes. 

Joel wanted to say so many things—to apologize for the time he had lost together, to say sorry for losing her—but he couldn't. He pulled back slightly, encompassing her face with his hands. She leaned into him, nuzzling her cheek into his palm.

 “I know, baby, I know,” he promised. 

“I missed you, Joel, so much." Y/N said quietly, resting her head on Joel's chest. 

He wondered if she could feel it clench beneath his skin at her words. 

“I missed you more than you'll ever know, sweetie,” he spoke gently to her, “and I promise, I swear that you'll never be alone again, baby girl; I'll always be here for you." Joel spoke softly; 

He felt Y/N pull him impossibly closer at his words. 

“I love you, babygirl,” he whispered to her, “my baby girl.”.

[hoshifighting]

seungkwan as your sugar baby!

— WARNINGS: sugar mommy x sugar baby relationship, smut, degradation, getting caught, pussy eating, cock riding, gold digger!seungkwan, meanie!reader. — (Seventeen as Sugar Baby's Series)

you knew the type of boy seungkwan was from the moment he strutted into the tennis club like he owned the place. he wasn’t exactly subtle about it, either—wearing that too-crisp polo, the kind only someone trying too hard would borrow from a rich friend. joshua, maybe? you’d seen them together once, joshua all polite smiles and seungkwan soaking up the attention like a sponge. but today, seungkwan wasn’t here for polite smiles. he was here for you.

“nice serve,” he says, voice smooth as the champagne your friends are sipping in the lounge. you roll your eyes, tossing your racket onto the nearby bench. “thanks,” you say, already expecting the flirtatious tilt to his lips as he closes the distance between you.

“didn’t know tennis was your thing,” he continues, leaning against the bench, too close for it to be casual. you can see the glint of ambition in his eyes. he’s good-looking, no doubt about that, with a smile that could probably get him whatever he wants.

“isn’t my thing,” you shrug, grabbing a water bottle and taking a long sip, letting the cool liquid ease the heat from your last set. “but it is the perfect way to spend a saturday.”

“for sure,” he nods, eyes shamelessly drifting down to your hips, the pleated skirt riding just high enough to keep him interested. “mind if i join you for a drink? or maybe something stronger?”

you laugh, the sound surprising both of you. “you really think that’s all it takes?”

his grin widens, unbothered by your teasing. “i think you know exactly what you’re getting into.”

and maybe you do. you knew it the second you caught him watching you, eyes fixed on your every move, waiting for the right moment to strike. he’s playing a game, just like you are, but you’re not sure who’s winning yet.

“alright,” you say, tossing your empty bottle into the bin, turning to face him fully. “but don’t think i’ll go easy on you.”

seungkwan knew exactly what he was getting into, and fuck, he loved every second of it. the second you handed him that black card, he felt like he’d hit the jackpot. it wasn’t just about the money—though he loved that too—it was the way you looked at him, like he was a prize you’d won, and you were more than happy to show him off.

he could still remember the first time you brought him to one of those high-end boutiques, surrounded by clothes he’d only ever seen in magazines.

“this sweater’s nice,” he’d say, running his fingers over the soft fabric, his tone casual, like he wasn’t already imagining himself wrapped in it, looking every bit the part of someone who belonged in these high-end boutiques. but he wouldn’t linger. no, seungkwan knew better than to show too much interest. he’d walk away, leaving you with a knowing smile on your face as you grabbed the sweater and followed him.

“just put it on my tab,” you’d tell the cashier, watching as seungkwan pretended not to care, but you could see the satisfaction in his eyes when you handed him the bags, another small victory for him.

and when you handed him that card, with your name etched in gold, seungkwan felt a rush that went straight to his head.

he fucking lived for those piles of designer boxes, stacked high in his room. louis vuitton, chanel, dior—it was like christmas every damn day. and he couldn’t get enough of the looks he’d get when he rolled up in your mercedes, sunglasses perched just right on his nose, dressed head to toe in the finest things you could buy him. but the best part? knowing that it was all you. every bit of extravagance, every luxury he wrapped himself in, was because you wanted him to have it.

and seungkwan had his ways of paying it back.

after a long day of shopping, arms heavy with bags filled with things he didn’t even know he needed until you decided he did, you’d barely make it through the door before your hands were in his hair, yanking him down to the floor. “what are you waiting for?” you’d snap, and seungkwan would look up at you with those wide, innocent eyes that he knew drove you fucking crazy.

but it never took long for that shock to fade, for that sweet, naive smile to turn into something darker, nastier. he’d grip the hem of your tennis skirt, yanking it down your legs, not bothering with anything else. and as you pulled his hair harder, he’d bury his face between your thighs, your pussy already wet and waiting for him.

“better make it worth it,” you’d say, voice dripping with that condescending tone you knew he loved. and seungkwan would smirk against you, knowing that he’d give you everything you wanted and more.

because if there was one thing seungkwan knew how to do, it was to pay off his debts. “yes, ma’am,”

seungkwan slurped you up like he was starved, his tongue flicking against your clit with just the right pressure to make your back arch off the wall. every sound that escaped your lips was music to his ears—those moans that dripped with the same wealth that dripped from your fingertips. even in the way you cried out, you sounded fucking expensive, like every breath you took was worth more than what most people made in a year.

he hummed against your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body, but it was more than that. it was the way your thighs trembled around his face, the way you rolled your hips, riding his tongue like you owned him—because you did.

“you’re fucking pathetic,” you hissed, your voice sharp and dripping with satisfaction as you looked down at him. “look at you, on your knees like a good little whore. all that designer shit, all those fancy cars, and you’re still just a slut for my pussy, aren’t you?”

he groaned in response, the sound needy and low, his hands gripping your thighs as he held on for dear life. he loved it when you talked down to him, when you reminded him exactly where he stood. or rather, where he kneeled.

“you’re lucky i even let you breathe the same air as me,” you continued, your tone mocking, filled with the same arrogance that made him weak in the knees. “look at you, drooling all over yourself, just for a taste of me. you should be thanking me for even letting you near this, you ungrateful little slut.”

his eyes rolled back, the sting of your words only driving him to worship you harder. he shifted on his knees, trying to find some comfort against the hard floor, but it didn’t matter. he’d kneel on broken glass if it meant keeping you satisfied.

“thank you,” he gasped, voice wrecked, his mouth still buried in you. “thank you for everything, ma’am.”

“damn right,” you muttered, grinding down on his face with renewed vigor, chasing your high with reckless abandon. “you better make me come, or all those fucking gifts are going back. understand?”

“yes, ma’am,” he whimpered, tongue working overtime as he tasted you, every word you threw at him only making him harder, hungrier.

you could see it in his eyes—the way they lit up when you handed him a new ysl bag, the pure joy that came with the luxury. but you also knew there was something else that made his heart race just as much, if not more. and that was fucking you. seungkwan was the kind of boy who thrived on being spoiled, but he was just as addicted to the way you took control, the way you’d grab him by the hair and pull him closer, making him feel like he was both your prize and your plaything.

like that time in the living room, when you were straddling his lap, riding him slow and steady, drawing out every moan, every gasp. the room was bathed in the faint glow of evening light, your bodies moving together in a rhythm that felt like it was made just for the two of you. everything was perfect—until your butler walked in.

the poor man’s eyes went wide as he realized what he’d just walked into, and he hurriedly turned to leave, face flushed with embarrassment. seungkwan’s reaction was immediate, his hands going to your hips, trying to lift you off of him, a panicked look crossing his features. “shit, let’s stop—” he started, but you weren’t having any of it.

instead, you laughed, a rich, wicked sound, and you sank down harder onto his cock, grinding against him harder. “oh no, you don’t,” you teased, loving the way his face contorted with pleasure, with mortification. “don’t act all shy now. you were just loving it a second ago.”

his eyes locked onto yours, and despite the lingering embarrassment, you saw the flicker of that same naughty smile creeping back onto his lips. because as much as he hated the idea of getting caught, he loved that you didn’t care, that you wanted him so badly you wouldn’t even pause for something as trivial as the butler.

and maybe that was the best part for him—the way you made him feel like he was worth the risk, worth the scandal. so he stopped resisting, his hands returning to your hips, guiding you as you rode him harder, faster, until the only thing he could focus on was the feeling of you around him, and the sound of your laughter echoing in his ears.

[impishjesters]

hii can you please do jax x shapeshifter reader hcs/short story (your choice)... like they dont have a "normal" form nn can turn into anything they wanted to i think thatd be cool /nf

warning(s): Jax, mentioned using someone's fear as a prank note(s): I wasn't sure how to list the prank, it's probably considered particularly cruel given it's using Ragatha's fear of centipedes as entertainment A/N: I think having the ability to shape-shift and be friends with Jax is such a violently chaotic blend, and honestly I'm here for it. Gotta get your fun somehow.

To be honest, Jax questions whether you’re actually a human or not at first

It wouldn’t be the first time Caine decided to throw something new at them, though usually it’s a game or activity and not another…person?

Like obviously you don’t look like the wooden doll NPCs, but you can just uh, change what you wanna look like?

He’s entirely convinced you’re just some fancier NPC for a hot minute before you start to react in a very non-NPC way

Those wooden dolls don’t particularly do much, and they sure as hell can’t speak

The first thing Jax tries to do is rope you into his messing around with the others—just think of it, you can turn into whatever you want which means even more hilarious possibilities for pranking the others!

Now if you aren’t like Jax and deny helping him, he’ll still find ways to use your shape-shifting abilities to his enjoyment.

Even if it doesn’t result in a prank, it’d still be hilarious to see you shift into something that ends up scaring someone else or just overall causing chaos to whatever awful domino effect might happen (I mean look at the Kaufmo situation, shit went downhill real fast unintentionally)

He’s not going to be aggressive or forceful but he’ll still throw out that the two of you would make a great team in entertainment

And if you like causing hell then this baby is just like a kid on Christmas, as mentioned above he’ll use your ability to shape-shift into things that’ll entertain him—and well by proxy you

Like the time you guys fucked with Kinger

He had you shape-shift to look like himself and engage in a convo with Kinger, and when the convo ended he came over and started up a conversation, acting as if he hadn’t seen the old coot in a hot minute. Kinger was very very lost—Ragatha didn’t find it that funny

Nor did she find it funny the time you turned into a large centipede-like creature and scared the ever-loving shit out of her

Okay maybe you felt a tad bad, and sure it definitely had her loathing you for a bit—but she’s definitely grown more on guard with you around

Overall Jax finds it kind of interesting that unlike them, you are able to sort of pick and choose what you wanna look like. The two of you no doubt spent hours just watching you cycle through and test just what kind of stuff you could change into.

Caine still isn’t sure how that happened to be completely honest, you’re an enigma to him and he doesn’t like that

Jax won’t say it but he’s only a little weirded out when you’ve made yourself look like him, he knows what he looks like—there are reflective surfaces, but it’s just…weird

[subbypeterparker]

Plssss can u do a hazel x reader Christmas themed fic? I’ve been dying for some holiday spirit hazel and I think she’d be super cute during the holidays ☺️☺️☺️

getting into the spirit

Hazel spins around, admiring every part of your guys’ small shared apartment, as she finishes adding the final touch: strings of lush green (fake) plants around the small stairwell railings.

“what do you think babe? i think we did a pretty good job,” she’s standing with her hands on her hips, huge smile across her lips while she looks at you expectantly.

you’re lying down on a pile of christmas pillows she’s been meaning to put up, but that have just been sitting on your small couch. you have to admit it, your apartment is the cutest right now.

the mistletoe on the doorway to the kitchen, where she’s been so happy to kiss you every morning. the small christmas trees she’s put up on nearly every flat surface, the splashes of green lighting up every room. the lights that twinkle while strung from the walls, whose lights cast comfortable shadows on everything.

then there’s the tree. that adorable christmas tree you bought, when she stood in the lot, admiring all the trees, before finding the perfect one for you both. best of all are the decorations. a million gifts under the tree, and the bright colourful lights hung everywhere, creating a glow that lights up the entire floor.

the ornaments are the cutest, all second hand, and clearly very old and loved. there’s photo ornaments scattered everywhere, with photos of you and Hazel, you as a kid, Hazel as an awkward emo tween, photos of your cat Mochi, everything.

you stand up and walk towards her, wrapping your arms around her waist to pull her in for a kiss. Hazels hands drop to hold your cheeks softly, smiling against your lips.

“honey I think it’s amazing, it looks beautiful,” you’re gushing but how could you not? this is your first christmas while living together. of course she’s going to do it up.

“okay so i have a few plans for tonight and tomorrow morning!” she’s practically jumping up and down, like a child on Christmas.

“lay them on me Hazel,” you peck her nose, egging her on.

“alright so tonight we have to watch a christmas movie. im thinking home alone or elf, you pick! we have to wear the pajamas Isabel got us, the ones with the reindeer, and then tomorrow morning we open gifts with Mochi!”

her eyes are lighting up the more she rambles, and you can’t help yourself from leaning in to hug her, smiling against your neck.

“i’ll go start the movie, you get the snacks,” you hum, pressing a lazy kiss to her neck.

she kisses your cheek, lightly pushing you away from you with a squeeze of your hand before she darts off to the kitchen. you sigh happily, picking up the DVDs. hmmmm, Home Alone or Elf?

she bounds back into the living room a moment later, just as you’re pushing the Elf DVD into the machine, pushing the okay button. you turn around and grin, seeing her snack choice.

“alright let’s see…popcorn, sugar cookies, coke, whipped cream….are we just eating straight whipped cream?” you tilt your head to look at her questioningly.

Hazel shrugs, dumping the giant supply of snack in her hands onto the couch. “i mean, we can always find another way to eat it if you want,” she grins, hands circling your waist, drawing you in closer.

“oh don’t you even mention that, this time i’d actually like to watch the movie we pick,” you laugh, pushing her away from you.

“hey, if you change your mind, let me know,” she’s walking up the stairs laughing, no doubt getting you guys’d pajamas (and maybe thinking of the last time you both got your hands on whipped cream.

you smile to yourself at your girlfriend’s antics, occupying yourself with putting the collection of food she brought onto the coffee table, ready for you both to feast on. she comes back bounding into the room, pajamas in one arm, and Mochi in the other, looking slightly displeased at the matching pajamas Hazel seems to have stuck him in.

“ohh Hazel, he looks miserable,” you laugh. your poor cat looks so grumpy, but you both know he doesn’t mind the clothes, he just hates having his fat manhandled into pjs.

“yeahhhh but he looks so cuddly, plus he’s matching us!” she kisses your lips, softly dripping Mochi onto the couch, where he promptly loafs into a ball on an armrest.

you both change into the pjs, throwing your clothes onto the floor, a problem for tomorrow, and settle onto the couch. Hazels lying on her back, tilted slightly to be a better pillow for you, who has taken to resting your head on her tits, stroking her arm that’s currently drawing small circles in your back. her lips are pressed against your head, laughing along to the movie when you aren’t stuffing your faces full of the cheapest christmas food you could find.

“so, scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate this Christmas?” she mumbles into your hair, laughing at whatever Buddy is up to on screen.

“this is absolutely a 10/10, i can’t imagine a better Christmas,” you smile softly up at you, tearing your eyes away from the movie to stare at her.

“you should wait until next christmas, i promise i’ll make it even better,” she leans down to kiss you deeply, playing with your hair slightly.

“i don’t doubt it Hazel,” you whisper against her lips, the both of you smiling at the the thought of celebrating another Christmas together.

who knows? maybe by next Christmas you guys might both have rings…🤭

—

an: merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, and happy holidays to those that don’t!! I hope everyone is having an an amazing end of the year, and that you’re all happy and healthy and enjoying the holidays!! 🫶🫶🫶

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (10)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: Ten

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: Christmas has finally come. But with it, the end of Winter Break, and feelings that both you and Seonghwa are still too scared to confront.

WC: 6.3k

CW: Fluff, angst, suggestive but it cuts off

AN: I'm so sorry this took so long. I don't have much to say, other than this is more angsty than I planned, but I think it makes for a better story. I hope it's a good part one finale for you all, and you enjoy, as always. 💜

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goayeos @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop @multistanbaby

It was December 24th, and you were awake way earlier than you wanted to be, standing in a jewelry store, looking through the glass of the display case at the many expensive, gorgeous, necklaces. 

But tomorrow was Christmas, and you needed a gift for Seonghwa, so sacrifices had to be made. 

You’d already figured out a gift for Wooyoung ages ago, you had it wrapped and ready in your guest room at the house. 

Now you were here, looking for a gift for his mother. 

You often had moments where you still couldn’t believe the life you were currently living. 

“Do you need help?” You snapped your head up to find the person who spoke to you, and your eyes found a sweet older woman, smiling at you from behind her glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.” 

“No, it’s alright,” you said back, offering back a half smile as you tried to collect yourself. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift. 

“Oh, well, what exactly are you looking for?” The older woman came closer, looking over the necklaces in the case as you were. 

At that moment, you realized that you really didn’t know what to look for. 

You had a good sense of Seonghwa’s style by now, but in terms of jewelry, you were a little stumped. In the month you’d been there, the three of you hadn’t really gone out, so none of you really “dressed up.” 

But of the things you did see, you weren’t sure what he preferred. He usually wore chains, something elegant to go with his already sophisticated outfits. 

But at the same time, you didn’t want a generic, expensive diamond necklace on a silver chain. Most necklaces looked like that, just a pretty pendant on a cheap, boring chain. 

Of course, they had their own charm, and you had a few necklaces like that yourself. But you wanted to find him something special, something as unique as he was. 

You were wishing you’d asked Wooyoung what Seonghwa would wear, but even you knew about Wooyoung’s inability to shut the fuck up. So if you did ask, you ran the risk of spoiling the surprise. 

“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, putting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. 

“Well, maybe I can help you,” the older woman offered, giving you another sweet smile. You had to admit, in the back of your mind, you were doubtful. But you’d accept any help you could at that moment. 

You nodded, and the older woman nodded back. “So, who is it for?” 

You hesitated, even if this was the expected first question. Considering the previous day’s events, you were even more hesitant to even breathe a word of your infatuation with Seonghwa to anyone. 

So you spit out some half formed excuse that you hoped sounded believable. “For someone I’ve been seeing.” 

The older woman’s eyes lit up like stars as a big smile spread across her face. You couldn’t help but smile with her. 

“Isn’t that precious?” She looked at the display cases again before she looked back at you. “What are they like? What do they like to wear?” 

Like magic, there he was in your mind. Seonghwa, in his gorgeous dresses and outfits. Walking like a queen with the way he held himself. His gorgeous smile that lit up the world, and his bright doe eyes. 

He was everything. He was wonderful. 

“He’s very mature,” you began, not picking up on the fact that “he” was the pronoun that came out. “He dresses expensively. He’s a type that likes the finer things in life.” 

“You’re looking for something a little more expensive?” The woman teased with a little grin, but you nodded in agreement. You did have a budget, as your student loan money that you were using couldn’t all go to a Christmas present. 

But for Seonghwa, you’d do it. 

“Come with me.” The older woman began walking around to a different display case, and the necklaces here were far more ornate and expensive than the ones you were looking at. Your heart stopped when you saw the price tag on one of them.

One of these necklaces could easily pay for at least half a year of your tuition. That was intimidating, to say the very least. 

The older woman must’ve saw the color drain from your face, because she quickly leaned on the counter and spoke to you softly: “This is where I tell people to look for the piece they want, and then we usually find something more affordable that’s close to what they want.” 

Your entire body sagged with relief. 

So there you went, looking over the necklaces they had. These ones weren’t just jewels on a chain, they were much more detailed than that, more intricate. There was more color in them, more styles overall. 

As you were weighing your options, you were imagining Seonghwa in your mind, picturing how he’d look with each of them, what he’d wear with them, how it would look against his honey skin. 

A few times, you got a little too wrapped up in your fantasies and had to pull yourself back. 

You repeated the process until your eyes landed on the one. The one you could perfectly see Seonghwa wearing. 

It was a choker with a large red stone in the center, with many others around it. There were a few diamonds around it as well, but they were quite small. 

It could’ve been a crown. 

“This one?” The older woman asked, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You shook yourself and nodded, smiling. “It’s quite expensive, are you sure?” 

You looked at the price tag, and the necklace would definitely drain your bank account. 

But you wanted it. You wanted him to have it. 

“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I want that one.” 

The older woman hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded as well, and went to wrap up the choker. You watched as she took it and put it into a silk lined velvet box, laying it out carefully, as if she could feel the price of every gemstone. 

You followed her around the counter to where she was going to ring it up, trying your best to not be impatient. But the older woman couldn’t help but smile at your fidgeting and shifting around. 

Just thinking about Seonghwa wearing it, how pretty the red would look against his skin, the chains around his pretty neck-

“Please insert your card, dear,” the older woman called, still smiling brightly. 

You babbled out a “sorry” as you fumbled for your card to pay for the choker. The old woman was still smiling as you went through with the payment. 

And yes, the choker was incredibly expensive. No, it didn’t count as a student expense. 

But it was worth it for Seonghwa. 

The older woman pushed the bag across the counter to you. “There you go.” She flashed that sweet, warm smile at you again as you carefully lifted the bag off the counter. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” 

At that moment, you looked into her eyes. You looked for any deceit. Any lies. Any possible malice or potential push back. 

But there was nothing. Just light and joy. 

You smiled back and nodded as relief washed over you. “I think so too.” 

You placed the bag underneath the Christmas tree, hiding it behind the present you got Wooyoung. Thankfully, the both of them were still asleep when you arrived back at the house. 

A stark contrast to the night before, the house was quiet, and empty. No people, no music, nothing. Just a house, full of decorations. 

But now, you were fortunate for everyone to be asleep so you could tuck your very expensive, very special present behind the others. 

But since the moment you left the store, you were having doubts. You just spent a lot of money on Seonghwa. You bought him something very special, something most people don’t gift to others unless they’ve known each other for quite some time. 

You hadn’t known Seonghwa for quite some time. In fact, most people would think you’re doing much more than you should so early on. Even you were thinking that. 

But you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest when you thought about Seonghwa. The goddamn ache, the feeling that could’ve dropped you to your knees if you weren’t careful. The ache you felt all over your body when you didn’t get the chance to even hold his hand, to hug him, to be with him. 

The crippling feeling when you thought about going back to campus and not seeing him for months. 

Maybe you were falling too soon and too hard. Maybe this wasn’t right. 

You moved to reach for the bag when you heard two doors open and close. As footsteps moved across the hardwood floor upstairs, you worked to get your jacket and shoes off as quickly and quietly as possible before the owners came downstairs. 

You closed the door to the coat closet as Yeosang and Jongho made their way down the stairs, wearing what looked like Wooyoung’s shirts and shorts, their hair messy and eyes half open. You gave them the best smile you could muster at that point, but tried to not over do it. 

“What are you doing up so early?” Jongho asked, his voice scratchy and low. Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall in the living room, above the TV, and it was just after seven. Would it be early if you were still on campus? No. 

But you weren’t on campus, so yes, it was early. 

But you realized you didn’t have an excuse as to why you were up so early. 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you babbled, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could manage. To your relief, the two half awake men in front of you weren’t in the mood to interrogate you. 

“Us too,” Yeosang agreed, following Jongho into the kitchen. You did the same, getting glasses of water with them and sitting at the kitchen table. 

None of you said anything for a few moments. You three were enjoying the early morning silence, the peace, the few stray strands of sunlight peeking in through the windows and stretching across the floor. 

Eventually, Jongho broke the peaceful silence. “Do you think San and Wooyoung will be down before noon?” 

Yeosang pretended to think as he took another sip from his glass. He looked off, as if into the distance, like he was prophesying about the future. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sound made Yeosang smile. 

“No, I think they’ll be there until we go find them,” he concluded, finishing the rest of his water afterwards. You nodded in agreement, taking another sip from your glass. 

“I expected the same from you.” Jongho looked at you over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. You looked down as your face began to burn. You didn’t have an answer to that, so you kept quiet. But you knew your friends wouldn’t let you off easy. 

Yeosang continued the conversation as he set his glass down in front of himself. “Yeah, it is a little weird that you’re awake so early, fully dressed, standing by the front door.” 

Both men were looking at you now as you stared down at the table, your face burning like the sun, the heat pulsing in waves. 

It’s not that you were worried that they’d spoil the surprise. You were more afraid of their opinions and judgements of the gift you got. You could handle the jokes and even fire back at them, and you welcomed the banter about the relationship you’d found yourself in. 

But you were already beginning to have second thoughts about the expensive present sitting across the house, tucked away under the tree, hidden away from sight because you were embarrassed. 

It was everything you were afraid of. Falling too hard too fast, committing to something larger than yourself, something you very well might not be ready for. 

“Hey,” Jongho called, waving his hand close to your face. “You kinda spaced there, you okay?” 

You blinked a few times, like you were rebooting yourself, and smiled as best you could. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good.” 

“Are you sure?” Yeosang countered. Their slightly amused faces turned to ones of concern, their eyebrows down. They weren’t sure what exactly was in your head, but they knew it wasn’t nothing, like you were about to tell them it was. 

And you knew they would push. But you didn’t want to vent all of your worries and fears and poor life choices at seven in the morning, especially when they didn’t know the full extent of the month’s events. 

Thankfully, you had your out, as Wooyoung came down the stairs with San close behind. They both looked like they’d skipped the waking up part of waking up, with fluttering mostly closed eyes and their hair the best example of a “rat’s nest.” 

Yeosang and Jongho looked up at them as they came into the kitchen, sliding their feet across the floor, hardly picking them up. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” you said cheerfully, trying to steer the conversation to the two zombie looking men that strode in. The two men at the table, to your relief, joined you in teasing the others. 

“The year hasn’t changed yet, just for reference,” Jongho threw out. Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he continued past the table to the cabinet to get himself and San a drink. 

San followed him, stopping when he did, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung’s waist from behind and laying his head on the younger’s shoulder. 

With the heat off you, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You knew this wouldn’t be the last of the conversation, but that would be a problem for future you to handle. 

Seonghwa didn’t wake up until an hour after San and Wooyoung had. That was to be expected, after all the party planning and hosting he’d done the day prior. Not to mention, the emotional distress was quite draining. 

Wooyoung helped him with breakfast, and you all ate with minimal conversation, of which you were grateful for. The less you spoke, the less chances you had to expose or incriminate yourself. 

The rest of the morning was mostly slow and quiet. You were all still recovering and resting from the previous day, and dreading the end of Winter Break as a whole. 

Classes started again in the second week of January, but you and Wooyoung had agreed to be back on campus by January 1st. 

If you weren’t counting Christmas Eve, the day you were thinking all of this, you had only one week left. Seven more days until you had to leave. 

It didn’t help that Seonghwa was being particularly clingy that day. He sat next to you at breakfast, he was holding your hand, he was giving you little kisses. 

He hugged you from behind as you were helping with the dishes, holding you tight while his body pressed into yours. 

He wordlessly demanded cuddles from you when everyone dispersed after breakfast. He pulled you onto the couch and held you tight, almost falling right back asleep when he did. 

You didn’t think, or really even wanted to, ask why Seonghwa was so attached to you that day. You told yourself it was because he was tired. Or maybe he realized you would be leaving in a week too.  

Whatever it was, you were conflicted. 

You couldn’t stop thinking as you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, your head on his chest. You wanted to relax into his warmth and safety and let the tension melt off your body. 

But you kept thinking of that goddamn choker. The choker you were so proud of finding, that you gladly spent so much money on, the choker that you knew would look amazing on him. 

It was stuck in your head because you didn’t know if you were actually going to give it to him or not. 

Maybe you’d just take it back to campus with you and save it for another time. Maybe you’d return it altogether. You’d just sit with Wooyoung as Seonghwa opened the Lego sets Wooyoung said you both could take credit for. 

Maybe that was the safer option. Maybe that was the less crazy option. 

But as you began to accept that conclusion and make peace with it, the ache was back. 

As you listened to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, feeling his hand run up and down your back, the ache returned with a burning passion. Your breathing grew labored, like the ache was genuinely squeezing your heart and forcing the air out of your lungs. 

Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined shoving the choker’s bag into your own and taking it back to campus with you. The ache spread to your arms and legs as you thought about never presenting the gift to him, and simply just watching him open the presents Wooyoung bought. 

Your whole body hurt. It felt like a pulsing, squeezing pain, and you couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. 

You’d fallen in too deep. You fell too hard, too fast. 

Everything you’d been afraid of had happened exactly as you thought it would. 

By the time your friends left, the sky was already darkening again. As much as you all would’ve loved for them to stay, they had families to go home to as well. 

You wondered how long it would be before San and Wooyoung were consistently going to each other’s family events. Or even hosting their own. 

But it was hours since then, and you were sitting back on the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Seonghwa sat between the two of you, his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against him, with Wooyoung sitting the same way. 

But Wooyoung was stretched across most of the couch and his arms were dramatically thrown around Seonghwa, like he was a figure in a painting you’d find in an old museum. 

You three had agreed to get snacks and drinks and watch Christmas movies until midnight, when you could open your gifts for each other. 

But the movies kept getting interrupted by Wooyoung being impatient, general commentary, and before you all knew it, you were all talking again with the movies long forgotten.

In a way, you preferred this. The more time you spent talking, the less time you had to think about the impending time of your decision. But as the clock ticked down, as midnight drew closer, your efforts were in vain. 

All you could think of was that goddamn choker. The repeated question of “will you, won’t you” flashing across your eyes like some kind of horror montage. 

You started to feel sick. Your stomach was churning, your head felt light. You were pretty sure you were beginning to turn green. All over a fucking choker. 

Midnight drew ever closer, and the dread in your stomach intensified and grew with every second that ticked by. Your eyes kept jumping back and forth, from the clock on the wall to the TV and back again. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Wooyoung sat up and yelled, “It’s Christmas!” 

Your hands were slightly shaking as Wooyoung got up from the couch and pulled you and Seonghwa along, dragging you across the room to kneel down by the Christmas tree. 

The warm lights of the tree that once brought you comfort now nearly made you vomit. 

You swallowed it back as you settled next to the tree on the hardwood floor, pushing the bag with the choker further back into the corner. Your wrapped your arm around your back in an effort to do so as subtly as possible. 

Seonghwa also came to sit on the floor in front of the tree between you and Wooyoung, but only after he’d gotten a trash bag to put the discarded wrapping paper in. Wooyoung happily shoved a box towards Seonghwa, a huge smile stretched across his face. 

“We got this one for you!” He dropped the present in Seonghwa’s lap as he reached over to grab the other boxes that had Seonghwa’s name on the tag. “And these ones too.” 

Seonghwa pouted, but then smiled warmly at his son. Oh, how ethereal he looked under the light of the Christmas tree, delicately highlighting his warm skin and putting sparkles in his eyes. 

You shook your head and came back to the present as Seonghwa began to tear the wrapping paper off the box in his lap. His smile grew bigger the more he revealed the box, and finally laughed in excitement. 

“Oh, nae sarang,” Seonghwa sighed, putting the wrapping paper in the trash bag. “This is so sweet of you, thank you.” 

Wooyoung was absolutely beaming, his smile outshining the tree beside him. His eyes flicked over to you, and you couldn’t help but share his smile. Seonghwa looked at you too, and your heart fluttered at the genuine gratitude in them. 

“Thank you too, jagiya.” 

You just nodded, your heart cracking a little. 

But you happily watched Seonghwa tear open the rest of the boxes. His eyes lit up every time, laughing in pure joy at the brand new expensive Lego sets. You nodded every time he said thank you, but guilt pulled at your heart knowing you didn’t actually contribute in any way. 

But Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind. He was just as happy seeing Seonghwa open the presents, as if he was the one receiving them instead of giving them out. 

You were truly the luckiest person to have Wooyoung. 

After Seonghwa had finished unwrapping the Lego boxes, he stacked them up and put them aside, and then pulled Wooyoung into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, nae sarang,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“You’re welcome, Eomma,” Wooyoung whispered, squeezing Seonghwa tighter. 

Your heart cracked again. 

Wooyoung pulled away from Seonghwa and reached back under the tree for a bag. It looked fairly inconspicuous, just a regular white bag with white tissue paper sticking out the top. But in your experience with Wooyoung, quiet and boring was always suspicious. 

Seeing your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bomb, don’t look at it like that,” he whined. “Just open it.” 

“It’s a bag, it’s already open,” you teased, to which Wooyoung groaned and rolled his head back. Both you and Seonghwa let out a soft giggle. 

“Just open it, please!” 

With another giggle, you pulled the tissue paper aside and looked into the bag, seeing a bundle wrapped in more tissue paper. You carefully pulled it out and pulled the paper off to reveal the gift. 

“Wooyoung,” you breathed as you looked over the expensive outfit in your hands. The logo on the tag was what you saw first, your head shooting up to look at him in bewilderment. “What is this?” 

“Clothes, dummy,” he answered with his award winning smile again. “Now you don’t have to borrow my clothes for events.” 

You know his comment was a joke, but his words went straight to your heart. You hadn’t asked for this, Hell, you didn’t even think about buying it for yourself. 

But you finally had a nice outfit for events, or parties. 

Or maybe even future restaurant dates. 

“Thank you.” You carefully folded the clothes back up, as if they’d unravel in your hands, and laid them back in the bag. 

“You don’t have to thank me, it was a necessity.” 

You rolled your eyes, to which Wooyoung just smiled. You couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. 

“Is it my turn now?” Seonghwa asked as you put the bag aside. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your own gift behind the tree again. 

“Sure,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking. Wooyoung eagerly reached under the tree and grabbed a box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with his name written on it in Hangul. 

He wasted no time in shredding the paper, almost reminiscent of a cat, and revealed a large, expensive laptop. Wooyoung just stared at it for a few moments with his jaw hanging open, his eyes the size of dinner plates. 

“Eomma,” he whispered, then looked up at Seonghwa. “When I said I wanted a new one, I wasn’t serious,” he started to explain, but Seonghwa held up his hand to stop him. 

“I don’t care, I wanted to get it for you. And I think college would be a little difficult with a broken laptop.” 

You held back a giggle remembering the moment Wooyoung dramatically wailed about how he accidentally knocked his previous laptop off a table and onto the linoleum floor of the classroom. 

Wooyoung just stared at Seonghwa for a few moments, like he was about to tell his son it was all a joke. But when Seonghwa just smiled at him, in the warm mom way, Wooyoung smiled too and hugged the box. 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, nae sarang.” 

Wooyoung set the box aside carefully, slowly setting it down beside him, making sure it would be safe before he turned to you and Seonghwa. 

You looked up at Seonghwa, and he smiled at you warmly before he reached over and squeezed your hand. “Your present comes later.” 

It took every ounce of strength to not burst into tears right then and there. You just mustered up the best smile you could and nodded. There was no teasing look in Seonghwa’s eyes, no allusion to more. Just his warm smile and bright eyes. 

“Eomma, I didn’t need to know that,” Wooyoung groaned dramatically, speaking loudly as he flung himself back to lay on the floor. You rolled your eyes as Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked back at Wooyoung. 

“It’s not like that,” he began, but Wooyoung just whined again. 

“If you’re gonna be like that, then I won’t give you your present,” you added as you pulled out a large, black bag from under the tree, with black wrapping paper sticking out of it. 

Wooyoung shot up and looked at you, and then at the bag, then back again in confusion. His brows went down as he opened his mouth to question you, but you just slid the bag across the floor to him. 

“I’ve had them hidden for months,” you explained as wooyoung grabbed the bag.

“Them?”

“Yes, them, now go look!” 

Wooyoung looked at the bag again, this time with a look of concern instead of confusion, like something was about to jump out at him. He studied the still bag for a few more moments before he finally pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside. 

And he pulled out two small plushies: A black cat and a red fox. 

Wooyoung gasped as he pulled them out, then hugged them tightly. “You remembered!” He exclaimed as he looked at them again, turning them over and admiring all the little details. 

Months prior, Wooyoung wouldn’t stop talking about these plushies he wanted. He had a collection going, and he needed those two to complete it, but he never had a chance to get them. 

So one night, you did. You ordered them online and hid them in your dorm for months, waiting for the day you could’ve given it to Wooyoung. 

And here you were, on Christmas Day, finally seeing his eyes light up like stars as he looked at them both, hugging them like they were his children. 

The sight helped alleviate some of the tension in your chest. 

“Thank you,” he finally said to you as he looked up. You smiled, and this time, it was genuine. 

“You’re welcome.” 

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was smiling just as brightly. The mom smile you adored, the softness in his eyes as he looked at you both with unending fondness. 

It cracked your heart all over again. 

With all your presents exchanged, Seonghwa and Wooyoung collected their gifts and went to bring them to their rooms. 

You did the same, but hid the choker bag in the gift bag Wooyoung gave you, and ran to your room to hide it there. 

How ridiculous this all was. You bought the choker for Seonghwa, you brought it home, you’d imagined how beautiful he’d look with it. You’d walked out of that store knowing he’d gratefully accept the gift, and you were excited to see him wear it. 

But how could you give someone like him something like this? This was far too much money for someone you haven’t known for nearly enough time. 

But you bought it because of the goddamn pain in your chest. The suffocating, choking ache that grew ever stronger every day. It invaded every part of your body, it was in your blood and bones. Even if you wanted to smother it and shove it away, it would take forever. 

You knew what it was. You knew why it was there. 

But you didn’t have the courage to say it. Which is why the choker was getting shoved in the duffle bag and into the closet as you fought back tears. 

Maybe you’d give it to Seonghwa another day. Maybe as a birthday present, whenever that was. 

But not now. You couldn’t do it now. 

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a gentle knock at the door before it opened a little. 

“May I come in?” It was Seonghwa, you knew it was him before he even spoke. 

You nodded, as if he could see that, as you said “yes” and sat down on the bed. Seonghwa came into the room and carefully shut the door behind him before he came to sit down next to you. 

In his hand was a square, navy, velvet box, about the side of a small plate. He held it out to you with a warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts. You took the box from him carefully, like it would disappear at any second, and were surprised when it had a little weight to it. 

“It’s okay,” he said softly when you hesitated, putting one of his hands over yours. You looked up and met his big, brown eyes again. “It’s all yours, jagiya.” 

You just nodded, because you couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as your eyes fell back down to the box in your hands. 

You shoved away the guilt that stirred in your gut as you slowly opened the velvet case, and tears welled in your eyes all over again. 

It’s like Seonghwa knew you were buying him a choker earlier, and that you wanted something with more detail and intricacies. 

A necklace, but there were gemstones all up the chain with a larger one hanging from the bottom. The gemstones on the chain were small and simple. not trying to be in the way, but just to elevate the chain. 

The larger, square cut gemstone that hung from the ornate chain was meant to be in the way. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, no, it was just perfect. 

Everything was perfect. You were blinking back tears, it was so perfect. 

“Seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you whispered, your throat closing up. You ran your fingers over the gemstones, almost like you needed to touch it to see if it was real. 

Seonghwa was beaming, lighting up the whole room with his smile as he watched you admire the necklace. “You said you wanted something to show off.” 

“And I will.” You carefully lifted the necklace out of the box, and as you were going to put it on, Seonghwa stopped you and reached up to take it. 

“May I?” Two simple words. Words that were very small and insignificant to anyone else. 

But this moment felt like much more than just putting on a necklace. 

It almost felt sacred. Intimate. Like a ceremony. 

You nodded and gave the necklace to Seonghwa. He moved closer and wrapped it around your neck, reaching over your shoulder to clasp it behind your neck. You felt your face burn at how close he was, with his arms around you, his body enveloping yours. 

But he pulled back just a few seconds later to admire how the beautiful piece sat against your skin. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up like stars as his smile spread across his whole face again. “I knew it was perfect,” he said softly as he ran his fingers down the chain. 

If your heart could beat any harder, the large stone on the necklace would’ve started shaking. It was a bizarre feeling, to be so guilty and torn up, but so elated, and desire the man before you. 

And when Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, it’s as if he could see it all. Every tear, every smile, eerie second guess you’d ever had. Like he could see the entire month of December replaying in your eyes in those few seconds. 

There were no other words spoken as Seonghwa leaned close and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, feather light. Loving. 

When Seonghwa laid you down on your back, your body turned to putty in his hands. Your limbs were growing weak as you wrapped them around his body. You wanted him as close as close could be, wanted to remember his taste, every soft moan as he breathed his life into every kiss, the touch of his hands on every part of your body. 

You wanted it all. And Seonghwa was more than happy to provide. 

The first day of the new year had come and gone. The thirty one days of December went by faster than they had in previous years. 

But as you and Wooyoung loaded your bags back up into his car, you were anything but joyful. 

“We’ll visit again during Spring Break,” he reassured you as he closed the trunk. “And it’s not like you don’t have his number, you can still talk to him.” 

Wooyoung was trying his best to reassure you, but his face fell when he realized nothing was working. Everything he was telling you, you already knew it. Obviously you’d see Seonghwa again, and you’d probably be texting him at least once every few days, if not every day. 

The world was not ending. This blissful period did, but it wasn’t the end of everything. You’d be back, you’d see Seonghwa again. 

But the months between January 1st and Spring Break would be difficult after the month you’d just lived through. 

It felt juvenile. You were a grown adult in college, working towards a degree to hopefully secure a good career and have a comfortable life. You had classes to worry about, not your boyfriend who’s double your age. 

But he wouldn’t ever leave your head. You knew in your head that when you went back to class, he’d probably be there in the back of your head. 

An effort in mental gymnastics is what these next few months would hold. 

Wooyoung brought you back up to the house for your final goodbyes. Seonghwa was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a cream knitted sweater with black sweatpants. Normally, he was dressed up in some way, even if it was a pajama set. Today, he hadn’t bothered with fashion. 

Wooyoung hugged him first, squeezed him so tight, he lifted Seonghwa off the floor. For the first time that morning, you smiled as they both laughed. The noise of surprise and protest Seonghwa let out just made Wooyoung hoist him up more, until all three of you were laughing. 

“How could you put your poor eomma through such things?” Seonghwa asked in a perfectly dramatic voice as he made a show of fixing his hair and sweater. 

“As if you’re any better,” Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa just smiled and kissed his head, to which Wooyoung reciprocated with a cheek kiss. 

“Be safe, nae sarang.” 

“I will, Eomma.” 

They exchanged an “I love you” before Wooyoung walked away, and gave you a nod before he went to sit in the car to wait. 

It was like a movie scene. The sun was setting, the snow was falling. The sunset colors illuminated your face as Seonghwa gave you a half hearted smile. 

You wordlessly hugged him tightly, and he instantly returned the hug. You two stayed there in that hug, silently clinging onto each other like it would be the last time. 

It wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it. 

But you both found something that December. You found someone. And it was so special, you couldn’t bear to lose it. 

As you pulled back to look up at him, the little voice was in your head again. Telling you that you were taking this too seriously, that you shouldn’t have been so upset, that this wasn’t a big deal. 

The voice disappeared as Seonghwa pulled you into another loving kiss. The idea that this was a movie scene popped back into your head as he held your cheek and kept you close. 

You could've sworn you heard your heart break when you both pulled away. 

“Be safe,” Seonghwa softly said onto your lips. You nodded as you painstakingly pulled out of his arms. 

“I will. You too.” 

Seonghwa gave you another small smile. His eyes flicked down to the necklace that you still wore. You’d worn it every day since the night he gave it to you, and kept it in it’s case every night. 

You smiled back before you forced yourself to walk back to Wooyoung’s car. Seonghwa watched from the doorway until Wooyoung’s car disappeared, and he could no longer hear it. 

Wooyoung reached over the center console and held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything, no words needed to be said. 

But as you were swallowing back the tightness in your throat and blinking back tears, the comfort felt good. The firm squeeze was what you needed, as you both were headed back to campus, unsure of where life was going to bring you both next.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[neptunes-sol-angel]

Alright guys! I finally got that tingly feeling that I should do this kind of love reading. I still didn't want to make this a future spouse reading because I honestly overthink the concept, like "um divorces happen!" or some people just don't believe in marriage, but I thought I'd do something adorable and Christmas related. I hope that you guys enjoy!

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Pile One🎄

Their letter to Santa

Dear Santa, For so long I've been in the darkness, alone with the glass pieces of my heart, thinking that it's better this way for me to be on own. I don't believe in fairy tales anymore and my ability to imagine a world where I can be in love with someone and in that same way be loved back. My mind is splintered to where I flinch the minute someone to me gets close or when they mention a promise, that I without a doubt know they won't keep. Socially, I feel numb, meeting allegedly new people, seems to be a broken record in different physiques. If you could grant me any present in the world, would you change my definition of what I know to be love? Falling away from the stranger(s) that used to be who I knew from head to toe, has damaged my beliefs that I'm worthy of something more. And should you succeed in bringing my love, may they be my most divine contradiction in my life. My love will be someone new, yet possess familiarty in which I'll take pleasure in spending the rest of my lifetime finding all of the ways that we just understand each other. The sound of their voice and the words that they speak will be the fire that warms instead of scorching me. They'll be my rock that I won't have to tip toe around. Right now, I ask for their forgiveness for the person that I am right now, but for every tear that I currently shed to release the pain of my troubles in romance, builds my strength to be the person that really loves again, and the confidence to give my all despite my mistakes in giving it to the wrong people. Don't let my reserved aura fool you, deep down, I'm a hopeless romantic, that will work hard to find any and every single way to give you the world to prove the depth of my feelings for you. The same way that I'm learning my lessons, you are too, we both share that agony of why this has to hurt so much, but it's the bitter that goes along with the sweet to lead us to each other in the end.

Your Christmas Traditions:

Life with your partner could already be luxurious, meaning they gift you with presents on a regular basis that are both as an expression of love and desire to get the things that you want, so Christmas, traditionally, will feel like a normal day. What makes it stand out to you guys as a couple is how you guys seem to always unlock a new level of intimacy around this time of the year. For you or them, Christmas could make some not so good feelings resurface and put someone in a mood. Whatever that may trigger this, it usually leads to a peaceful resolution that doesn't just prolong the tension for another day. It's like getting to the root of the issue that'll eventually lead you and your partner to a place of comfort, understanding, and confirmation that this relationship isn't based on surface level things.

Pile Two 🎄

Their Letter to Santa:

Dear Santa, There's this ethereal figure in my dreams that I keep seeing. Without a doubt, I know that this is my person. And maybe it's not realistic to ask for you to make the time go faster for us to encounter each other in real life, but I really want answers, I'm craving to know this person. Their face alone, is enough to put me into hypnosis. Not knowing what their voice sounds like, ignites my obsession. I've never been a believer of the supernatural, or even a big fan of religion, but this sensation of the person of my dreams that makes me desire to stay asleep, has to be an indication that we're spiritually connected. I know this person doesn't say a word in both their presence of visions in day and night, but I have this clawing feeling that you're what home feels like. To the lover of my fantasies, I  know you spiritually, but emotionally, with you, I'll finally have someone that doesn't think my expression of feeling is a foreign language. I could talk to you for hours without getting bored and your nature in every capacity makes me feel that you're out of this world with a love that I'm determined to study and reciprocate. I'm already amazed by how gorgeous you are but indubitably I know I'll be stunned everytime I'm by your side watching you prove to me that magic on Earth is real. You're the breathing proof of it and I can't help but be adored by you and the way that you perceive making the most out of the challenges that you face and conquer.

Your Christmas Traditions:

You and your life partner BREATHE for Christmas. Valentine's day may be special but Christmas is the time that you guys will be all over each other. You guys could go all out this holiday, by buying and wearing matching pajamas, playing board games with each other, watching marathons of Christmas themed movies, maybe you guys have a specific drink like hot chocolate, egg nog, or cookies that you love to stock up on. You guys could also be the type to take a vacation around this time by renting out a cabin, or taking a trip to Disney World. This is normal for you guys and you aren't aware of this jubilant vibe that you have together but it makes others wanting to share the joy you have. Your public presence as a couple during Christmas is the type that will make a person want to use you guys as their mood board or inspiration to daydream about the love that that they'd kill to have. You guys are the power couple in terms of playfulness, affection, and how unique you guys embody your partnership. You could also experience people asking you for advice for how to liven up their own relationships. You guys are just that cute with each other.

Pile Three 🎄

Their Letter to Santa:

Dear Santa, I have a good feeling that the person that I will view as my everything is currently contemplating if there's something that they should change about themselves, but do me this favor homie and give my sweet firecracker this message. You. Yeah you. You know who you are. You are a boss! Walking royalty in this world that's meant to take up space, of course there are gonna be some jerks that want to dim your light, but the people who can't handle how bona-fide and wealthy your aura is, are people who are uncomfortable with the fact that they don't possess the tools to handle the blessing that you are. You were never asking for too much and don't let the grinch or scrooge convince you that you aren't enough. Believe me, I wish that fate would allow me to show up in your life right now, but you're meant to learn how precious your attributes you are. You're a damsel that can save yourself, who is meant to climb into power and achieve many things. I'm currently healing my tendencies of being codependent so that I don't distract you from your prosperity or project my insecurities onto you and make you think that it's you, it's not. Be patient, but don't get rid of how bold you are love or choose sides in how you're capable of being silly and someone with authority. Your strength isn't in your silence, but in your intelligence and maturity to express to others your feelings and what your needs are. You'll always be on top, even on days where you feel like you're at rock bottom. Keep pushing, things will make sense soon. You won't just find me in your happily ever after, you'll find your soul tribe too. And we will ALL match your energy. Trust me. Everything that you think is complicated about you is why we're grateful for you.

Your Christmas Traditions:

You and your life partner share a common tragedy and belief. You guys may have experienced toxicity in your family that inspires the both of you to do things differently with your own family. Christmas time is pivotal for you as a couple, because it influences you to reflect but also to take action on how well you guys do as a household. Your Christmas Traditions could be about trying your best to make sure that there's peace, openess, but most importantly your presence if guys have children together. You could go all out with making sure that they have the best presents, that they have the best indication that they're safe with you guys as parents, and that you make the most pleasant and fun memories that will symbolize how much that not just you and your life partner love each other but making sure that your children know how much they're loved by you.

[i-am-baechu]

♡ Summary: Being a father is the greatest gift Namjoon could ever ask for from Y/N. This Christmas it has turned out to be the hardest one for the family. 

♡ Rating: PG - 14

♡ Genre: Established relationship; Dad! Namjoon x Mom! Reader, romance, fluff and angst 

♡ Author’s Note: This is the sequel to Baby Daddy! Also I worked all day on Christmas Eve and on Christmas I spent it with my family. It’s been busy for me!! 

Namjoon knew the day was coming but he didn’t realize it was coming this fast. They spoke about his military leave twice in the past year. Once, in the beginning and the second, in the middle. Both times Y/N was crying and Namjoon dropped the topic. He hated seeing his wife cry. He couldn’t bear the realization on Su-jin’s face that daddy wasn’t coming home at the end of the day and it hurt more that Y/N had to face it alone.  

He wanted to celebrate Christmas early so at least he can see Su-jin’s second Christmas before he leaves. It was December tenth and Namjoon made their living room filled with Christmas decorations the night before. Their tree was filled with ornaments that had glitter falling down onto their carpet and the lights flashed different colors that made Su-jin hypnotized. Of course Namjoon made sure the tree had mountains of presents underneath with cartoon paper hiding what was inside. 

Y/N watched Su-jin open another gift and she sighed. She leaned towards Namjoon who was sitting next to her with a wide grin, “Joon, don’t you think this is overdoing it?” 

He shook his head and kissed Y/N’s cheek, “No, I wish I could’ve done more.”

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Babe, how much more could you have done?” 

“Trust me, I had plans.” 

“I don’t doubt that.” 

Su-jin started letting out her giggles when she started playing with her new microphone. Y/N glanced at her and smiled. Namjoon bent down and grabbed a small box that was hidden behind the tree, “Baby, I got you something.”  

She looked back at Namjoon with a surprised look and then at the tiny box, “Joonie, I told you-”

“This is special please.”

She took the box and let out a laugh, “You always had to have it your way.” 

“You’ll like it.”

She opened the box and her eyes widened. It was a ring that had all of their birthstones and engraved in the ring it said, MY FOREVER. She placed the ring next to her wedding bands with excitement, “Namjoon, this is so beautiful.” 

Namjoon placed his hand on top of hers and glanced at the ring, “I just wanted you to know...no matter what. You guys are my forever. Even if I’m far away, I’m always thinking of you guys.” 

“Joon, I don’t need a ring for that. I already know.” 

“I just wanted you to have something...”

She smiles and leans forward, placing a quick peck on his lips, “I love it and I love you.” 

“I love you more.” 

Later that night, Y/N put Su-jin down and it was just the couple. They were in the living room cuddling up watching a random drama with Christmas lights flashing in semi darkness. Namjoon’s fingers carefully went through her hair as she played with his fingers, it was pure bliss. 

“Neh, Namjoon...Do you remember when we met?” 

“Of course I do....”

Another long night and Namjoon felt like shit. All day he was messing up in practice and while no one got mad at him, he was mad at himself. He kept trying but nothing was working. It was frustrating because even Jin picked up the choreography. 

“Namjoon, let’s get some coffee. You need it.”

Namjoon looked up from the floor and gave him a sad smile, “Sure...maybe they have a drink that can make me dance better.”

Yoongi scoffed at this and rolled his eyes, “Shut up, let’s go.” 

They walked down the street to the only cafe open that late. There was soft jazz music playing and the sound of soft talks echoed in the room. whispers that held comfort under the dim lighting. They ordered their usual and waited at a table towards the back. Yoongi was on his phone and Namjoon was just staring outside into the night. He wished he could be better at dancing. He was their leader but he couldn’t help them with the formation, what kind of leader is he? 

“You look like you're thinking hard.” 

A soft voice blended in with the jazz music but it was loud enough for him to hear. He turned his head to see a girl around his age looking at him with a soft smile. The way her eyes looked at him made him feel like he was by a fireplace on a cold day. It was comforting and nice, “Yeah...thinking.”

She placed the cups down on the table and turned her head slightly towards him, “Are you alright? Thinking too hard just causes problems and no one likes problems.” 

“Problems can be the solutions we need.”

“Or the headaches we don’t want.”

Yoongi snickered at this and took a sip of his coffee as he watched the two go back and forth. Y/N heard her name at the counter and sighed, “I have to go but my advice is...don’t be too hard on yourself. We have one life, why be so mean to ourselves.” 

Namjoon watched her walk away and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. There was something about her and he wanted to figure it out. 

She let out a small laugh at the memory, “You were so nervous, it was cute.”

He rolled his eyes at this and changed the channel, “I wasn’t nervous. I was just...overwhelmed...”

“That’s what you said when you asked me out, remember?” 

“Jimin, I don’t think this is going to work.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and handed Namjoon the flowers, “Y/N’s favorite flowers are daisies.”

Hoseok nodded his head and opened the cafe door for him, “Stop being nervous and ask her out before someone else does. Like that guy from the other cafe.” 

“I’m not nervous...I’m overwhelmed.” 

“Yeah, whatever. Just go.” 

Namjoon entered the cafe and saw Y/N watering the plants. He heard Jungkook’s voice playing and he smiled. Y/N told him that she would always support him because she believed that he would become big. She was always there believing in her. 

She looked up and waved at him, “Hey! I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Sorry...ummm....these are for you.”  

She glanced down to see him handing her daisies. She smiled softly and took them out of his hands. She brought the daisies to her nose and inhaled the scent, “You shouldn’t have...I love them Namjoon. Thank you.” 

He felt his face get hot but a surge of confidence flew through him, “Y/N you would go on date me?” 

“Namjoon, are you okay?” 

He knew she was teasing him and she sighed. He looked away with his red face to avoid her mischievous eyes, “Would you go on a date with me?

“Of course I would.” 

“It’s not funny, Y/N.”

“I think it is.”  She reached for the remote and shut off the t.v, “We should head to bed. You want to take Su-jin  to the park tomorrow, remember.” 

He smiles at his daughter's name and nods his head, “Yeah, I wanted her to play with Jungkook while we walk through the park together.” 

“That sounds lovely.” 

The couple shut off everything in the living room and headed towards their bedroom. They both laid in their respective spots and she stared at him with a frown. He raised his eyebrow at this and turned towards her, “Is everything okay, Y/N?”

“I’m just going to miss you...”

“Well maybe Santa will bring me to you.” 

She rolled her eyes and moved closer to him until she felt his body heat, “The only thing I want from Santa is our family together.”

“Baby...” He kissed the top of her head as he wrapped his arms around her waist, “It’s going to be okay.” 

She let out a snicker as she snuggled into his chest, “Been an angel all year, Santa baby...”

He snorted at this and pinched her sides, making her wiggle, “Shush you...”

“Just promise me you’ll write to me.” 

“Of course I will, babe.” 

She looked up and kissed the side of his neck, “I can’t believe Taehyung is shaving his head.”

“I know, he looks like a prince with his hair. It’s going to be wild to see him without it.”

“I always said you looked like a professor that had all the girls drooling during class.”

He smirked at this and he tightened his grip, “Is that so?”

“Very much so...now that you shaved your head...I don’t know you got hotter to me.”

“Really? Su-jin misses my hair.”

She snickers at this and nodded her head, “She does, she was so confused when you didn’t have it but I think you look handsome.” 

“And I think you look beautiful. Let’s sleep.”

“Fine, what time are we leaving?”

“Around eleven.” 

She kissed his chest and closed her eyes, “Good night my love.” 

“Good night.” 

･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･

“Hyung! Noona!” 

The couple pushed Su-jin towards Jungkook and she waved at him, “Good morning, Kook.” 

Jungkook smiled at her and gave her a tight hug, “Noona, I heard you had a surprise.”

She raised her eyebrow at this, “And who told you this?” 

“Yoongi...”

She rolled his eyes, “It’s not a surprise...It’s more I baked you a cake for all your solo activities.”

Namjoon took Su-jin out of the stroller and pouted, “You didn’t make me a cake for my solo...”

“This is why I told Yoongi not to tell you. I knew you would blurt it out.”

“Sorry noona.” 

She let out a chuckle and ruffled Jungkook’s hair, “It’s fine. Namjoon, I gave you a baby. That’s bette than cake.” 

“Nothing in this world can compare to my Su-Jin. Want to play with Uncle Kook, Su-jin?” 

Su-jin made grabby motions towards Jungkook and he happily took her. He kissed all over her face and Y/N smiled at the scene before her, “You can play on the playground. Just be careful, she’s been more curious these days.”

“I will noona. Have fun on your walk.” 

Namjoon intertwined their fingers together and they walked. It was winter but today it wasn’t as cold. It was the perfect temperature. They walked closely together in silence as nature became their theme song. Namjoon glanced down at her and smiled, “What do you think about having another baby?”

She glanced up at him and gave him a surprise look, “Another baby? I would love to have another one but you're leaving soon...”

“When I come back?”

She let out a small laugh, “Maybe Santa can make that come true.” 

“Santa's probably tired of us asking him for things.”

She rolled her eyes and nodded her head, “But that’s the fun of Christmas.” 

“So...Another baby? Hurry down the chimney tonight.~” 

Y/N let go of Namjoon’s hand and started to walk away from him, “I’m going back to Su-jin.”

“Wait no! Comeback!”

[foone]

Pepe Sylvia scene where someone is ranting in front of a corkboard covered in pictures and string but it's about chastity meme culture. (slightly NSFW text and long ranting under the cut)

"first it's Locktober and sure, makes sense, why not, but then you get to November and you think you're home free, but wait, it's actually NO-vember, as in 'no you're not getting let out' and then it's December and you think you've won, cause how do you make December about chastity? But you forget, December is the time of Christmas: things wrapped up, with a bow, 'do not open til Christmas!'. That's how they get you. But then you think, maybe, just maybe, that means Christmas day is the day, you'll finally be out... NOPE! Welcome to NO-el, it's a gift-giving holiday, bud! And you're in a relationship with a person who's got you locked up in chastity, take a wild guess what they're getting you... That's right, a new cage! So you gotta try it on, of course, and now you're so close to the end of the year, so maybe you can just make it a few days? Then bam, January, next year... Just in time for new years resolutions! Guess what those are gonna be? Well, I'll tell you what they're not gonna be, you shooting any fucking goo! February: the month of valentines day. And what could be more romantic? March: that's when St. Patrick's day is, and you will not be having the luck of the Irish in your attempt to get unlocked... April: oh sure, you're getting unlocked at the start of April... ON APRIL FOOLS DAY? you thought! It's a trick, of course. May: MAY-be you'll be getting out... But I doubt it! June... More like Ju-NO! JULY, the month of love... But the big ju-LIE is that you'll be getting any loving this month. August! It starts on National Girlfriend Day... Well why can't you just wait another month for your girlfriend? Even if you have a boyfriend or enby friend, they'll find a way. I learned that the hard way-" they take a deep drag of their cigarette-" where was I? September! Well, September 1st is Emma Nutt day, so you think this might be a good sign, maybe you'll finally get to nutt.. Especially because it's sexual health month... But no! This is when don't-break-the-streakitis really hits you! It's almost been a year since you started this journey, so if you make it through this month, you'll have done it for a year... Won't that be a great accomplishment? And they promise to give you a big reward on the one year anniversary..."

"BUT NO!" They smack the board with the back of their hand, and several of the pictures fall off, pushpins going everywhere. (On closer inspection, some of the photos seem to have been pixelated before they were printed out)

"You're right back in Locktober! They can't let you out in Locktober! That's just silly. So you'll have to wait a little while, and see what the answer is in NO-vember. It never ends!"

They turn back to their corkboard. "it never ends", they say again, softly, as they lean their head against it, and start to sob.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Honey-Bunny

Winter Prompts Masterlist | Winter Prompts List

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader

Prompts: Mistletoe/ Hands/ Fake Dating

“Cut it out,” You grumble.

“Cut what out?” 

“You’re being too smug. My family’s not gonna buy that I’m dating a smug asshole. Hell, they’re probably barely buying that I’m dating anyone.” 

“I’m not being smug,” Harvey insists, curling his arm around your middle. You try not to overthink the way your body warms with the press of his palm, and the sweep of his fingers against the fabric of your dress. “I’m just so happy to be here with my honey-bunny.” 

“Oh, my god." You reach out, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray. You draw in a deep gulp, tipping your head back and letting it slide down your throat, joining the two that you’ve already downed. 

“Careful, sweetie. Your family’ll think we’re not happy.” 

“One of us isn’t right now.” 

“Really? I’m ecstatic.” 

You cast an unamused sidelong glance at Harvey and find him smiling brightly at you. 

“C’mon, admit it,” He adds, leaning into you, his breath brushing your temple. “I’m a better stand-in at your family reunion than Mike is. I’m better dressed, I’m more interesting, I’m more attractive—” 

“I am so telling Mike that you have such a low opinion of him the next time you see him.” 

“Now that's not fair. It’s just, you know. Mike is like this,” Harvey raises his hand, waving around his shoulder, “And I’m like this,” He raises his hand, waving it around his brow. “Besides, I’m taller.” 

“You’re the same height. The only thing edging you out is your Johnny-Bravo-like hair.” 

Harvey’s jaw drops, a stunned laugh leaving his mouth. 

“Johnny-Bravo-like?” 

Your mom calls, “Get over here, you two!” Before your argument can continue. You wince at the sight of your family lining up for a picture. 

“Oh—Mom, I don’t know—” 

“This is not negotiable! Get over here!” She orders, “Both of you!” 

“It’ll be fun,” Harvey insists, his hand resting on your lower back as he leads you over to the familial tangle. 

“I don’t think I want you in our Christmas photos for time immemorial. I’m gonna have to explain who you were every few years.” 

“Maybe you ought to just invite me back every year.” 

“Doubtful.” 

“Maybe your mother will—” 

“Do not drag my mother into this—” 

The two of you shut up as your mom waves the two of you into line with the rest of the family. 

“You gonna quibble with me about standing one place or another? Making sure they get your good side?” You mumble.

“Please, sweetheart. Every side is my good side.” 

You roll your eyes openly, winding up for another argument—and then Harvey curls his arm around you again. Your stomach swoops at the feeling, your face going warm. It’s absurd—you can’t stand Harvey, but he’s making you feel all…Gooey. You push a smile on your face for a few pictures, and are determined to hurry away and drown your gooey feelings in champagne—but as the others begin to disperse, your mother warns:

“Ah-ah-ah, don’t get far, you two. You know the tradition, honey.” 

Your eyes go wide, stomach twisting with embarrassment. 

“Oh—Mom, no,” You plead. “We do it every year—Oh, Harvey, you’re gonna love this,” Your mom swears, gripping both of you by your hands and tugging you to a different spot in the room. “Whenever a new significant other is brought home for the holidays, they take a picture under the mistletoe.” 

“Really.” Harvey’s smug amusement is back, spreading his smile wide.

“It’s an old tradition—It’s—Mom, we really don’t have to do this,” You stumble over your words. 

“Oh, come on now! You’ve always been a little shy, never bringing anyone home before, so we can’t pass this opportunity up!” 

She looks up, positioning the two of you under the mistletoe that’s been hung in the event space by the staff (probably at your mother’s request). You glance up at Harvey as your uncle waves you closer together, holding up his camera. Harvey leans in, giving your cheek an obliging peck as you give the camera a weak smile. 

“Oh, please,” Your mom complains, “A real one!” 

Your smile goes tight as you look up at Harvey. 

“This wasn’t part of our agreement,” You whisper, “You don’t have to do this.” 

Harvey’s gaze skates your expression before he gives a small shrug. 

“It’s a couple of seconds to make your mom happy,” He murmurs, “I don’t mind. But I’ll push back if you need me to.” 

You can’t help it—you go a little gooey again at the offer. You’d expected Harvey to brush it off, or to be a dick about it—but his expression is sincere, and his eyes are searching yours for any hint of hesitation. So you give a small nod, and try not to think about the way your heart leaps into your throat as Harvey draws you closer. You sway into him just a touch, chest brushing against his. The two of you lean in, and your lips meet in a stunningly warm, soft kiss. You try to fight it, but your eyes slip closed. Harvey raises a hand to cup your cheek, his thumb sweeping tenderly over your cheekbone as your heads tip slightly, deepening your kiss. You vaguely register the coos and clapping from your family just a few feet away, and that finally snaps you out of it. 

You lean back, nose brushing Harvey’s slightly. You blink at him in slight surprise, tongue sweeping across your lips. As Harvey’s eyes open, he seems just as stunned as you are. His slick, smug look is gone. His eyes are searching yours again, then dip, and catch on your lips before steadying there. Your chest flutters as he seems set to go in again, but you hear your mother shooing, “Alright, you two can canoodle in the corner! We need to get your cousin and her girlfriend in here. Go on.”

You clear your throat, pressing your hand to Harvey’s chest and guiding him away from the mistletoe. The two of you come to a stop in a quiet corner. Harvey’s arm is still curled around your middle; your hand is still on his chest. You raise your hand a little, absently straightening his tie, just to do something with yourself that isn't fumbling an apology, or drawing him back in.

“Thanks for the, um…” You trail off, waving toward your family. “I’m sorry, I didn’t remember that—stupid tradition.”

“Doesn’t seem that stupid to me,” Harvey offers. 

“That stupid implies that you think it’s at least a little stupid.” 

“It was unexpected.” 

“I’ll give you that.” 

“Wasn’t bad, though.” 

“Sealed the deal. I mean—” You hurry to correct, eyes darting to Harvey’s face nervously. “In terms of being…Believable. I never pegged you as such a good sport.” 

“No one’s ever managed to peg—” 

“Oh my—I don't need to know that," You groan, turning and hiding your face in his shoulder. He chuckles, arm tightening around you. 

“Still think I’m a smug asshole?” He murmurs against your temple. 

“I know you are,” You grumble. “Just because you’re an alright kisser doesn’t mean you’re not.” 

“An alright kisser? Oh, that just won't do."

"What do you mean that won't—"

You go quiet as Harvey cradles your jaw, drawing you in for another kiss. You let yourself lean into him, your hand slipping from his tie, up into his hair. He hums softly against your lips, nudging you back against the wall. Your breath leaves you in a soft huff as feel yourself pressed into the hard surface. You can't imagine what your family is thinking, or if they've noticed that the two of you have, in fact, taken then chance to canoodle.

Harvey just smiles, smoothing his hand over your hip.

"Better than alright?" He murmurs. You pretend to consider before shrugging a little.

"Nearly."

Harvey's expression darkens, and he chuckles softly, shaking his head.

"You're asking for it," He warns. You smooth his hair down, a wicked thrill shooting down your spine.

"Why honey-bunny," You coo, sweeping a fingertip along his plush lower lip, "I don't know what you mean."

Tag list: @amneris21 ; @elen-aranel ; @brandyllyn ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight

[leclerc-s]

espresso with a side of depresso

series masterlist

liked by mickschumacher, bradleywillsimpson, zoyatorres and others

maejonesverstappen just wanted to put out a little song before coachella 🤎 espresso 4/11

view all comments

rhysjones i fear for my mental sanity every time you drop a new song.

estebanocon please no more songs with inuendos

↳ maejonesverstappen 🤭

↳ lancestroll we are so fucked.

user82 i too am also praying no more songs about max jones-verstappen's dick.

↳ user45 she has us all traumatized

isabellaperez what's the point in dropping music if i'm no longer around to terrorize jos?

↳ maejonesverstappen now whose choice was it to leave?

↳ isabellaperez THAT FACT IS IRRELEVANT!

alex_albon ma'am we are begging please stop singing about max's dick or your sex life.

user51 okay but she looks so hot? can max verstappen fight?

↳ maxjonesverstappen1 *max jones-verstappen does not condone hitting women but point me to the nearest track in your area and we'll settle this on the track like real men.

↳ user51 i'm a woman?

↳ maxjonesverstappen wasn't aware gender mattered on the track? but fine *we'll settle this on the track like real people.

danieljonesricciardo as long as it's not another nonsense or nonsense christmas we'll be fine guys. so fine.

↳ user30 this is the embodiment of the dog in a room on fire saying 'this is fine'

georgerussell63 no doubt she's getting ready to further traumatize us. twice just wasn't enough.

lewis hamilton my blood pressure has suddenly skyrocketed. anyone want to tell me why?

alex albon why do you always have to assume it's our fault? lewis hamilton it's always you people

isabella perez mae's dropping a new song.

lewis hamilton that explains so much. please tell me there's no references to max's dick.

mae jones-verstappen i can't promise that.

george russell WHEN WILL THE TORTURE END??

daniel jones-ricciardo probably when they have children to embarrass.

charles leclerc if max keeps winning everything, that'll probably be soon.

rhys jones woah! gross! child here!!

lando norris that's the circle of life baby jones! well, maybe not soon.

logan sargeant i think she enjoys torturing us with mentions of max's dick in songs.

max jones-verstappen can we stop talking about my dick please?

zoya torres TELL YOUR WIFE TO STOP WRITING SONGS ABOUT IT!

mae jones-verstappen 🤭🤭

daphne jones-ricciardo oh she is so proud of herself.

rowan todd of course she is. it's like pierre making a tripod joke.

fernando alonso sebastian i am begging you, please come back. put these animals under control.

sebastian vettel aren't you the one extending his contract to become the oldest driver in f1 histroy?

lewis hamilton hey, i'm still here!!

sebastian vettel he's older!

isabella perez i'm still going to torture jos. he's not get away from me simply because i no longer work for red bull.

rhys jones THE TORTURE JOS VERSTAPPEN CLUB HAS OFFICIALLY ANNOUNCED A NEW MEETING!!

max jones-verstappen stop torturing my father!

dulce perez but you two make it so easy for them

daphne jones-ricciardo children. all of you.

liked by maxjonesverstappen1, rhysjones, tatemcrae and others

maejonesverstappen triple shot...espresso out now ☕️

view all comments

user63 how the fuck did max verstappen end up with her?

isabellaperez oh wow. ditch the husband and marry me please!

↳ maejonesverstappen we can run away, ditch the husband and the boyfriend!

↳ isabellaperez say less baby girl

↳ oscarpiastri no, please say more.

↳ maxjonesverstappen i agree say more.

user09 oh she's so hot. please marry me.

user56 good thing your daddy made you get a boating license when you were 15.

nataliaruiz woah, how did verstappen ever end up with you??

↳ maejonesverstappen his insane yapping rizz somehow woo'd me.

user79 you're so pretty. i love you.

rhysjones how did you release a summer bop but daph is releasing the world's most depressing album?

↳ maejonesverstappen it's called versatility baby brother. you play a war criminal, daphne is depressed, and i sing about things i shouldn't.

↳ isabellaperez like max's dick!

baileywinters you gorgeous, gorgeous girl.

↳ maejonesverstappen 👩🏼‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻

user61 it will always surprise me that daphne and mae are related. it's no surprise that mae's related to rhys but witch daphne's it's a shock.

liked by maxjonesverstappen1, rhysjones, tatemcrae and others

maejonesverstappen espresso btsoo ☕️

view all comments

maxjonesverstappen1 woah. marry me??

↳ maejonesverstappen maxie, we're already married.

↳ maxjonesverstappen i am one lucky man.

maxjonesverstappen1 that smile 🥰

maxjonesverstappen1 i love you

↳ user42 max jones-verstappen, certified simp for his wife.

↳ user28 he's never beating the trophy husband allegation. this is why he and daniel get along so well, they were made to be trophy husbands.

user56 good thing your daddy made you get a boating license when you were 15.

coreyfogelmanis how did that man end up with you??

↳ maxjonesverstappen1 stop bullying me!!

↳ coreyfogelmanis oh as her best friend it is my job to bully you

user10 i have never been more in love with women than i am now.

dulceperez that's one pretty girl. marry me?

↳ maejonesverstappen i would rather not be chased down by a rabid leclerc

↳ arthur_leclerc i am not rabid mae!

↳ louis_graham you chased me through the streets of monaco with a rolling pin because you thought i had a crush on dulce.

↳ arthur_leclerc that's not true!!

freya vettel me? you? beautiful blonde babies?

↳ maejonesverstappen i'm sure we could find a way

↳ maxjonesverstappen1 okay, mickschumacher come get your girlfriend before i block her.

↳ mickschumacher oh but this is so funny.

user06 SUMMER BOP RIGHT HERE!!

user17 oh mae jones-verstappen sure knows how to write a summer bop.

sebastian vettel why did you have to speak of honeybees that way?

mae jones-verstappen seb, please.

mick schumacher you might actually make him cry.

freya vettel he's definitely going to cry.

sebastian vettel i don't understand why we had to speak of honeybees that way?

rhys jones WHAT ABOUT THE NINTENDO? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO RUIN THAT FOR US TOO??

alex albon she ruined christmas now she's ruined honeybees and nintendos

mae jones-verstappen okay, now you two are being dramatic. i didn't ruin anything.

daphne jones-ricciardo how to you look sophie in the face? because it took me months to look grace in the face after i released dress.

penelope trevino it's a talent!

lando norris okay mayores, calm down

rowan todd and this is why i'm glad i never wrote a horny song about a french man.

bailey winters or me about a british man

pierre gasly wow imagine what it would be like if my girlfriend loved me.

rhys jones maybe she'd love you more if you stayed at red bull considering she's a red bull fan.

pierre gasly daniel, i swear to god, keep that kid away from me or i'll strangle him.

daniel jones-ricciardo okay, rhys, maybe we shouldn't attack the driver.

rhys jones he drives an alpine. i'll be safe.

logan sargeant lmao!

lance stroll who pissed off the pipsqueak?

arthur leclerc my guess is pierre.

pierre gasly all i said was percy jackson would get beat up by harry potter and now he's all pissy.

rhys jones BECAUSE YOU'RE LIKE YOU CROISSANT! PERCY GREW UP IN NEW YORK!! HARRY GREW UP IN FUCKING ENGLAND!

isabella perez yeah, i agree with rhys. there's no way harry beats percy.

charles leclerc but harry has a wand?

dulce perez and 9 times out of 10 he only uses expelliarmus.

logan sargeant have none of you read the percy jackson books? percy controls water, he 100% beats harry.

lewis hamilton this is just another way for you people to do the whole uk vs usa argument.

isabella perez WHAT'S A STICK GOING TO DO AGAINST A GLOCK?

fernando alonso i beg, please god give me strength to deal with these idiots

esteban ocon why are we having this argument?

rhys jones because i'm right and pierre is wrong. he just won't admit it.

mick schumacher i fear our brains need to be studied for science.

carlos sainz i think katniss beats them both.

rhys jones STOP CARLOS OR I WILL NOT HOLD BACK!!

daphne jones-ricciardo he's very passionate about this carlos. please don't make him attack you.

carlos sainz i retract my statement

rhys jones I'M RIGHT AND EVERYONE WHO DISAGREED WITH ME IS WRONG SO SHUT UP!

natalia ruiz never a dull moment with you people. never.

sebastian vettel i seriously question my life whenever someone sends a text that starts an argument in this group chat.

isabella perez YO NICO ROSBERG'S GOING TO BE IN CHINA!!

george russell BROCEDES REUNION INCOMING!!

rhys jones more like nico yapping about lewis

charles leclerc you can sit i my garage for the race weekend?

rhys jones LET'S GO!!!! A WIN IS A WIN BITCHES!!

max jones-verstappen traitor

daniel jones-ricciardo traitor

rhys jones I AM A TIFOSI FIRST AND BROTHER-IN-LAW SECOND!!

fernando alonso i don't have the strength to deal with this.

isabella perez remember to stream espresso!!

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @applopie @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @mypage-myfandoms @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @six-call @justtprachisblog @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @1nt3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @arieltwvdtohamflash @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @georgeparisole @dan3avocado @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @weekendlusting @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @sarah-thatstings-ann @minmira95 @casperlikej @formulaonebuff @hopenshaw @ijustgomessitupx @hwalllllllelujah @doodlehunz @prongsvault

¡leclerc-s speaks! i'm not going to lie, i've been watching grey's anatomy for the first time and that's why i haven't been posting much. but today's the day guys!! i also don't know how or why this devolved into what it did towards the end.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[songsofadelaide]

more dad megumi pls 😭 i read your previous one and i loved it! would really appreciate more😭 maybe megumi with a daughter???

The way I have the perfect prompt for this— inspired by my uncle and his daughter, my baby cousin. 😆

shadows as one. | shadows three.

cw: female reader, future fic, established marriage, fluff, slice of life, child oc (fushiguro midori), papa!megumi encouraging his daughter's craft — they always say that every daughter is bound to be a papa's girl one way or another... Midori was no different.

~ 20XX

It's always the quiet that's more worrisome.

You could leave Midori playing by herself in your living room while you cleaned up the rest of your house and you're sure she's fine as long as you could hear her babbling to herself and her toys.

It's the silence you were more concerned about. When her soft laughter dies out and you can't help but drop whatever it was you were holding and run to where you left her.

A wave of relief washed over you when you saw your husband seated on one of your daughter's princess chairs, his slender hand stretched out to her while she meticulously (yet still sloppily) painted his nails a shocking bright blue.

"I didn't hear you come in, sweetheart," you started before eventually sighing to yourself.

Megumi raised his left index finger to his lips. "No sudden comments, please. You might interrupt the technician."

"Yah yah!" Your little girl enthusiastically responded to her father's statement as though in agreement with him. They did always get along better, which kind of made you a little jealous. Then again, they always say that every daughter is bound to be a papa's girl one way or another... Midori was no different, especially since she looked just like him, too.

You recognised the little toy makeup box as one of the Christmas presents your daughter received— from Nobara, no doubt— and upon further inspection, you saw how your husband's eyelids were powdered with the same non-toxic shocking blue eyeshadow that stood out against his pale complexion and dark eyelashes.

"I-I want to go next! Mi-chaaan! Do mama's nails, too!" You exclaimed before getting down on your knees before your child, to which Megumi replied with a quirked eyebrow.

"Did you book an appointment with the technician?" he asked, though you could tell he was trying to hold back his laughter from the way his lips quivered. Midori lightly tapped his cheeks before breaking out into a tender laugh. "O-Okay, Mi-chan. Would you like to do mama's makeup this time?"

"Hmm... Yah!" She nodded with a smile before taking your larger hand in her own and pointed at the several bottles of children's washable nail polish. "Dis one or dis?"

"The blue one, please! So that I match with papa!"

"Ogey!"

Megumi slowly rose from his seat and gently grabbed the cleaning rag on your shoulder, a warm smile on his lips that seemed to extend further because of how the pink lipstick was drawn. "Make sure to tip generously, sweetheart. She's the best makeup artist in town, after all."

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