#a few days late but at the time of posting this but;

[sirhamburrger]

five (m. fushiguro x gn!reader)

five seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years of you through megumi fushiguro’s eyes. wc: 1.1k || tags/cw: spoilers for end of jjk manga, reader is a first-year along with the main trio, reader was abandoned as a child and raised by utahime, megumi is bad at feelings, hurt/comfort (i mean this is jjk after all), bad pacing which i will attribute to time not being real, is it obvious i don't read read the manga a/n: first jjk post! late birthday oneshot sorry i wrote for tobio kageyama first >:)

five seconds is the amount of time it takes for megumi fushiguro to register that there’s a new student in the class.

no, not itadori or kugisaki, but yet another new student, a transfer from the kyoto school. you’re cheerful enough, and you seem to be pretty powerful. he can tell that much from the way you carry yourself, and the aura of cursed energy radiating from you. 

gojo introduces you to the class. megumi likes the way your name sounds.

---

five minutes is the amount of time it takes for megumi fushiguro to find that you’re actually really smart.

you’re assigned to sit beside him during lessons, much to the dismay of his other two friends. you give him a little smile, and he tries to smile back, hoping it doesn't look like a grimace. 

gojo asks a question about the three great vengeful spirits of japan. michizane no sugawara, taira no masakado and emperor sutoku. the information comes to the forefront of his mind without him needing to really think about it too much. he opens his mouth, ready as usual to be the only one in the class who knows it -

until he hears you say the answer confidently.

the other two are stunned into silence, and so is he. you look over at their shocked faces, and offer them a bashful grin, like you're embarrassed.

---

five hours is the amount of time it takes for megumi fushiguro to realise he wants to get to know you more.

accompanied by itadori and kugisaki, he comes knocking at the door of your dorm room after school. he finds himself a little lost for words when you answer the door. you look even better out of uniform, and the comfortable clothes you wear complement your skin tone and eyes. 

mumbling something about showing you around the campus, he's glad when kugisaki diverts your attention away from him. he doesn’t miss the knowing wink she shoots him, though, and just grumbles and diverts his gaze.

---

five days is the amount of time it takes for megumi fushiguro to look forward to seeing you.

it’s only your first week at tokyo jujutsu high, and already he feels some sort of connection to you. you were abandoned as a child, raised by sorcerer and teacher utahime iori from the kyoto campus for a few years. it reminds him of how gojo took him in after his own father left, and it brings the two of you closer together.

you trade stories about your unconventional childhoods. living in the dorms, training in cursed energy control and combat from a young age, the things you’ve been through to get to where you are today. you tell him that you’re happy your experiences made you who you are, and that they’ve brought you to him.

he savours this moment more than he cares to let on.

---

five weeks is the amount of time it takes for megumi fushiguro to feel as if he’s known you forever.

you’re with him 24/7 at this point. you go on morning runs with him and itadori before you meet a sleepy kugisaki for breakfast in the common area. you have classes together. you spar with the second-years - none of you ever win, but you come pretty close sometimes. you go on missions together. 

when itadori dies, you grieve with him, but you don't cry. when kugisaki falls asleep on his bed, and when you’re about to doze off in his arms, he cups your face in his hands and holds you close, feeling your warmth, even as he holds back tears of his own.

and when itadori pops out of a box revealing he’s been alive for the past few weeks, you join megumi and kugisaki in rolling your eyes to conceal your happiness.

---

five months is the amount of time it takes for megumi fushiguro to know he wants you in his life for the rest of it.

“as long as she has unshakable character, i won’t ask for more,” he remembers saying to todo once.

and of course he’s thinking about you when he says this.

who else could it be?

---

in the end, five years is the amount of time megumi fushiguro has to wait before he finally, truly tells you how he feels.

being trapped in his own body was not so much of a nightmare, but a trance. a trance in which memories and dreams and nightmares and hopes coagulated into a single stream of thoughts. his worst fears come to life. an unlikely happy ending. the faces of those he loves most. your face seems to pop up most.

truly one of the most unique and unfortunate ways to find out he loves someone.

he spends what feels like eternity in the darkness with you. you speak to him when he cannot muster the strength to even open his mouth, soothe him when he cannot think.

the memories of you and his loved ones are what keeps him alive.

he sees you cry for the first time when he is reunited with everyone else. he’s crying too. you’ve gone through terrible things, all of you. you’ve all lost those you care about most, and megumi doesn’t know if any of you will ever be okay. whether it’ll ever be okay. but looking at you, teary eyes fixated on gojo’s parting letter to you, he gets the sense that it will.

he embraces you, and he doesn’t even have to say anything to tell you he loves you.

a year turns into two. two into three. three into four. miraculously you’re still by his side, unyielding in the face of whatever curses or calamities the world throws at you. one spring day, megumi holds your hand as you sit under the sakura trees, watching the petals drift off in the breeze. and he knows he must tell you now. 

he looks at you, your smile brighter than any light he’s ever known, and finally speaks the words he’s held for so long.

“i love you.”

you turn to him, eyes shimmering with the same certainty he feels.

“i’ve always loved you, megumi.”

five is the number of times he kisses you under the sakura trees that spring day. five is the number of first-year students you co-teach with him, who make fun of him for being all lovey-dovey with you. five is the number of deep blue roses he leaves in a vase by your bedside every week.

and, just as straightforward as he is, five is the number of sentences in his wedding vows to you.

jjk masterlist || general masterlist

© sirhamburrger 2024

[munsonfamilyband]

Slick Sunday post for @lexirosewrites !! I decided to just post it like this since this is probably going to be long. I do promise it has christmas in it but there’s a build up to that. Also very minor TW for child abuse. It’s less than a sentence but still. And also, this is canon up till s4, I don’t really know how different it is, the important thing is that Chrissy lived and Eddie didn’t get eaten as much as he does in canon.

—————

It starts in 1987. It’s late November, Steve has unofficially taken over his house since he hasn’t spoken to his parents in so long he doesn’t even remember. Eddie and Robin are over helping him decorate their tree. They’re all wearing ugly sweaters and pajamas. Steve and Eddie had just started officially courting, while Robin and Chrissy were still dancing around each other. She was in the middle of lamenting her latest failed attempt to ask her out when the front door opens and the Harringtons enter. A fight breaks out pretty quickly and it culminates in a few smashed ornaments, Steve getting slapped, Eddie being literally sat on by Robin to keep him calm, and Steve being told his things needed to be gone by the next day. He’s told that his behavior is not that of a Harrington.

And then they’re gone.

Eddie forces Robin off of him so he can hold Steve, and she goes to call Hopper. He and Steve had been close before Starcourt and since he came back last year they’re reconnected. (Steve calls him dad behind his back, he’s too scared to say it to Hop’s face yet.)

Hop shows up a few minutes later, only to be followed by one very angry Claudia Henderson. She explains that El had called Dustin on the walkie about the phone call she overheard and Claudia left right away.

They both start helping him pack once they know he’s okay and they all go to Hop’s cabin for dinner. While they’re eating Steve casually mentions that he wants to change his name. What he thought would be a casual comment with little fanfare resulted in Claudia baring her teeth at Hop as they argued over who got to bring Steve into their family officially. It would be scarier if Steve wasn’t ready to cry from how loved it makes him feel. He does eventually have to burst their bubble and tell them he wants to be a Buckley. This does get Hop and Claudia to calm down but it also gets Steve tackled off his chair by Robin in a hug.

Fast forward, it’s now the mid 90s. Chrissy and Robin live in the brownstone next to Eddie and Steve in Chicago. Steve and Eddie got married two years ago and earlier that fall they had learned Steve was pregnant. They had so far only told Robin and Chrissy, but that was because Steve was at home while Eddie was at work and he begged Robin to come with him to buy tests. Both Eddie and Steve knew it was time to tell everyone else, since he had just finished the first trimester and with christmas coming up they decided to go with the most cliche announcement possible.

The four of them go back to Hawkins for the holidays. Robin and Chrissy are staying at the Buckley’s and Eddie and Steve are staying at Hop’s cabin.

The first person they tell is Wayne. They have dinner with him for christmas eve and then over dessert exchange presents. Eddie gets a new set of steel toed boots and Steve gets a new coat. Then they hand Wayne his gift and Eddie grabs their camcorder to record his reaction. Inside is a new baseball hat placed upside down with something balled up inside it. Wayne takes the cloth out and flips the hat around, freezing as he reads it, then quickly dropping it and picking up what is now clearly a onesie. In bold letters the onesie says ‘Grandpa’s Fishin’ Buddy’. The hat says ‘Grandpa is my name, Fishing is my game’. Wayne, still gripping the onesie in his hands looks up at them with wet eyes.

“Is this… I’m gonna be a grandpa?”

Eddie can’t stop smiling behind the camera and he turns it slightly to catch Steve as he smiles at Wayne, giving little jazz hands as he says, “surprise.”

Eddie just barely pans back to Wayne to catch him standing up to pull Steve into a hug.

“I’m so happy for you two. Ed, you better put that thing down and get in here.”

———

The next people they tell are the Henderson’s. While Dustin will also be at Hop’s that night, Steve had wanted to be able to see his mom for christmas so for years they had been doing brunch at the Henderson’s before the three guys go to Hop’s and Claudia goes to get some extra hours working at the hospital.

They show up right on time with their gifts and enjoy breakfast before it’s present time. Dustin gets the new Dungeons and Dragons book that had just come out and a new set of dice that looked like the night sky. Steve gets a new cookbook and a scarf. Eddie gets a scarf as well as a new toolbox for work. Then Steve hands over the gift bag to Claudia, but before she opens it he turns to Dustin while Eddie gets the camcorder again.

“Dustin, I need you to promise me, right now, that what you see right now will not be told to anyone today. Got it?”

Dustin rolls his eyes as he responds, “Dude, it’s just a gift-“

“Dustin. Promise me,” Steve interjects.

After they stare at each other for another 30 seconds Dustin gives a dramatic sigh and promises. With that done Steve gives Claudia the okay to open her gift. She takes out the tissue paper and pulls a folded up sweatshirt and a folded canvas bag out. The bag is unfolded first and Claudia gasps, quickly unfolding the sweater and then dropping them both to rush over to hug Steve.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you! My baby!” Claudia is crying as she and Steve hold each other tight, Steve laughing with pure joy. Eddie catches Dustin standing up out of the corner of his eye and refocuses the camera on him, following him as he goes over and picks up the items his mom dropped. The bag says ‘Grandma’s Magic Bag’ and the sweatshirt says ‘World’s Best Grandma’. Dustin stares at them and then he’s shouting.

“You guys are having a pup?!”

Eddie just grins at him over the camera as he asks, “You ready to be Uncle Dustin?” Eddie then barely keeps the camera from breaking as Dustin rushes him in a hug.

———-

Their final present is that evening at Hop’s. Steve is drinking hot cider and curled into Eddie’s side on the couch, Robin right next to him with a hand on his ankle, Chrissy on her other side laughing as Max shares a story about college. Steve looks around the room and sees Dustin already staring at him, practically vibrating in his seat. It’s clear that he’s doing his best to not spill the beans so Steve huffs a laugh and claps to get everyone’s attention.

“Alright, present time?”

The next minute or so is a rush of movement as everyone finds a spot and grabs their gifts, Steve holding tight to his gift for Hop. Eddie had El help him hide the camera earlier so she can turn it on without giving anything away.

Presents are passed around and opened. Max gave Steve a new poster for his classroom, and Robin got him the fancy desk organizer set he had been looking at for months. Mike got Eddie new patches for his work coveralls and Will gave them a beautiful painted version of their wedding photo. (Steve does tear up over it but tries to cover up as best he can, stupid pup hormones).

Then Steve stands and hands Hop his bag, giving El a wink as he walks past her and he sees her squint her eyes for a breath before giving him a wink back. Steve settles back in to Eddie’s side and gives Hop the go ahead. He pulls out what is clearly a mug wrapped in tissue paper with a hat stuffed into it. Hop takes the hat out first and looks at it, his face unreadable, before he sets it down with the words hidden. He quickly takes off the tissue paper and reads the mug. His face is still blank but everyone can see his eyes filling with tears as he makes eye contact with Steve.

Eddie gives Steve a little nudge and that’s all it takes for him to get up and go hug his dad, being wrapped up in his arms as Hop cries. After a beat where it’s still silent Hop speaks, looking over at Eddie. “Years ago, I thought I would never get to be a grandpa.” Steve just hugs him tighter and the room around them erupts as everyone starts screaming. Eddie gets dog piled by the boys, excluding Dustin who has collapsed on the floor from the relief of not having to hide that anymore. Steve feels two people wrap around him from behind and glancing at their arms he sees that it’s El and Max, both hugging him. When everyone has calmed more Steve goes back to sit with Eddie, who can now place his hand on Steve’s stomach. Hop sits down and finally shows everyone his gifts. The mug has a sheriff’s badge and it says ‘Chief Gramps’ and the hat says ‘Professional Grandpop’. Hop puts it on his head that night and refuses to take it off.

———————

Et viola. Also, this is Wayne’s hat because I love it so much:

[urfavoritemistake]

PLEASE watch the full thing for context and for tons of other goodies! i meant to link it in a reblog the morning after posting late at night but i forgot and had other stuff the past few days, poo poo on me. i cannot recommend it enough, and will be back-listening to the rest of the mslb podcast when i have time. so if you want to hear:

bill cipher saying no-no words

alex hirsch trapped in the dungeon and being surprisingly chill about it

more delicious elaboration on his intentions with various pages, the artist collaboration that went into it, etc.

for all the shippers that reblogged this, yes, this includes discussion of the "breakup" pages and the psychology behind bill's actions in them, and the hosts' personal interpretations (shoutout to ella exclaiming "HOT" when hana was going over the part about the "if lost return to bill" tattoo)

yes, hana, as in @fordtato hana hyperfixates aka author of those awesome multi-hour gf video essays

more fan theorizing and decoding, including codes even i didn't know about because i hadn't checked the wiki since august!

head the fuck down to the hall of conspiracies RIGHT NOW

the nature of bill and ford's relationship! alex repeats some of the same stuff he did at various conventions, but some new highlights include:

"how would that make you feel? if g-d came down and told you you were special and hung out and was your buddy"

"what degree of intimacy is that? can you imagine letting someone live inside your brain?"

bill, on one hand, thinks ford is a sucker, but is also deeply dependent on him: "what in g-d's name would i do without him? no one else can do this"

describing bill's cult leader tactics of isolation and getting ford "addicted to [his] attention like a slot machine"

[mobbu-min]

☆ yummy in my tummy ☆

part three

a/n i've been following the halloween event pretty closely for the jp servers, and omg, i have fallen deeper in love with leona! he's just so gentlemanly and honestly, the type of guy you would totally bring home to meet ur parents! plus he looks so damn good! also scully such a cutie patootie! love his little mannerisms and design! i was a little sad that ace and deuce wasn't in, but that just means that they'll both be there for the next halloween event!

edit: so this was meant to be posted like a long time ago hence my og author note, but better late the. never ig. but my point still stands that skully is a little cutie patootie <3

included ignihyde, diasomnia + rollo

tw nothing

want more? here's part one + two

ignihyde <3

⋆ He can’t help it! But the first thing that escape Idia's mouth is ‘Is this poison?’ He can't help it! He’s just a little awkward and has low self-esteem! Idia can’t phantom the idea that anyone, especially you, would take time out of their day to make and bring little, ugly him, food. (his words not mine) It’s literally a ten minute conversation where you have to explain to him that you wanted to this because you care about his skinny ass. And after he gets that through his thick ass head and into his big ass brain, does he explode into hot, hot red. Despite being a literal genius, Idia’s social department (self-esteem? self-love?) is severely understaffed. I don’t think Idia’s all that picky when it comes to food, he’s just not used to eating food out of his comfort zone. But batting your pretty eyes and asking ‘pretty please?’ is enough to get him to bend over.

⋆ If he could eat, Ortho would adore your food! (real talk, i can’t remember if Ortho could canonically eat through like idk a food cavity space thing or if i had just read that from a fic) Would ask for all types of things. But since he can’t, Ortho enjoys your food through Idia. He’s really happy that someone would take the time out of their day just for his big brother. By his data, doesn’t that mean you like his big bro? In all sorts of media, romantic partners make each other food to show their love! If Idia wasn’t such a danger magnetic in the kitchen, Ortho would force Idia to make you food too! So you’ll just have to settle with Ortho as your little helper instead. (he’s so excited to spend one on one time with his future in-law! teehee)

Diasomnia <3

⋆ My, make him food? How courageous you are, little human. Malleus gobbles your food down like it's his last supper. Food created by his child of man? How could he possibly let it go to waste! Compliments you to the moon and back. Though because it is Malleus, he does slip a few critiques. (he can’t help it! He’s a prince afterall) Malleus has never had an edible homemade dish full of love given to him, like ever. (sorry lilia, your food is full of love, just not edible) A warm feeling blossoms all across his body like blooming roses. If his tail was out, it would be swaying to the beat of his racing heart. Malleus didn’t think it was possible to fall deeper in love with you, but here you go, always surprising him. Perhaps, you’ll find a meal on your desk one day by the initials M.D.

⋆ Ohohoho? So you want to challenge a culinary master! Lilia will not be beaten by such a cute little human! You better start running tehehehehe- On another less scary note, Lilia enjoys your food immensely! Of course he could think of a few ways to make it much more protein packed and nutritious but that’s just his inner master chef coming out teehee. Beware, he insists that you must try his cooking, it’s only fair of him to treat you to a meal. Or even worse, insist that you too must cook together. Pray to the seven (or hope that Silver will be conscious enough to drag his father outta there) because you’re going to need it.

⋆ Wonderful… is the only word Silver is able to get out before he falls asleep. When he wakes, Silver is awfully embarrassed. Silver is blown away at your kindness. His face a perment baby pink the rest of the day. You thought of him and no one else. Surely this must mean something right? Still, Silver must do something for you too. It’s only fair. (what a sweet gentleman) he considers making you a treat as well, but considers otherwise. It might be unwise to be in the kitchen with his condition. But of course, it’s not like Silver won’t have any help! All the woodland creatures are more than happy to help Silver win over his crush’s heart! The next day you’ll have his treat flown to you by a couple of blue birds, chipmunks and rabbits gathering at your door with berries of all sorts. Silver thankful for such generous companions. If he had to face you, he might just fall into a coma.

⋆ He can’t help it when he says, “Are you trying to poison me?!’ and ‘Don’t you dare poison my Waka-Sama! I will fight you, human!” Sebek’s like a dog, barking and barking, until he smells the delicious scent of your food and suddenly, he’s stubbornly eating it at the table. Cursing himself for being so weak to delicious food (and your pretty smile) Oh how could he properly serve his Waka-sama if he’s weakened by such things?! THE CRUELTY! He does really enjoy your food. Typically he’s often left unsatisfied, his stomach growling with lingering hunger after his meals. But for some odd reason, every time he’s chowing down on your food, he’s satisfied. His stomach is silent but his chest is warm and fuzzy like dandelions. Are you sure you don’t have any magic? Sebek decides to keep his curiosity to himself. Just like the rest of diasomnia, you’ll find yourself faced with a box filled to the brim with food courtesy of the blushing, stuttering fae in front of you.

Extra <3

⋆ Very rarely does Rollo find time to sit down and eat. Between his studies, his duties as student president and world domination (kidding), he is much too busy to have anything more than a piece of bread and glass of water. You’ll have to drag him to sit his ass down to eat and even then he’ll be scolding you for messing up his schedule. But when the warm and homey scent of your food reaches his nose, his voice falls and mind clears. And all of a sudden, he’s very much aware of the ache in his bones, the growling of his stomach and the tight ringing of his head. Rollo listens to you tell him you made this just for him, heaviness hits his chest at the concern lacing your voice. Any other time he’d scoff and leave, but this is you. His friend. He doesn’t hesitate. The moment your food touches his tongue he’s done for. Perhaps the hassle of life is worth it.

[themuseofaphrodite]

know that you and i shouldn’t feel like a crime ✧ OP81

summary: after viewing a series of viral tiktoks, you decide to partake in the “hear me out” cake trend with your very wary boyfriend.

trigger warnings: suggestive & mature content, swearing

word count: 1k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

One of your most surprising qualities was that you were a TikTok fiend, especially since you were usually down to earth and didn’t use your phone much in public — but for good reason. Your “For You” page was filled with some of the weirdest, wackiest things: dangerous extreme sport challenges, odd filters used on pets for a quick laugh… the list could go on. Each video was a perfect way to destroy your reputation as the effortlessly suave McLaren princess.

You slouched on the creaky recliner next to Oscar Piastri, your boyfriend of almost three years, and sighed loudly, garnering his attention immediately. He was perfectly attuned to your every movement and breath, which was why you liked him so much. Nothing was worse than a nonchalant man, and Oscar was anything but that.

“Hm, darling? Everything OK?” Oscar looked up at you from where he was sitting, pausing the television with a careless flick of his hand. “It’s getting late, maybe you’re tired? You did have a long day.”

You shrugged one shoulder, feigning coolness. “No, I’m fine, I’m not tired. I just have an idea.”

Oscar raised one eyebrow, already on alert. That last sentence always warned him that something was afoot, and nine times out of ten, it was never anything good. “Oh, no. What now?”

“There’s a trend going around” — this made Oscar visibly tense, a vein in his neck going taut as he waited for you to continue. He disliked the viral pranks and never laughed at any of them, to your dismay — “and I was hoping you’d be willing to participate in one of them with me?” You batted your eyelashes, giving him puppy dog eyes, a trick you knew he couldn’t resist.

“If my mates find out about this,” he warned you, waving a finger menacingly at you like a stereotypical villain. “No posting this like you did last time.” You stifled a laugh at the thought of the last prank you engaged in, and the way it had broken the Internet when you posted it on social media. Oscar had not forgiven you, and it had been almost a year.

You shook your head solemnly, extending your pinky finger out to him so he would interlock his own in an unspoken vow. “I promise you I won’t post it.”

“Good.” He pursed his lips, obviously remembering the media disaster that had unfolded last time. McLaren had not been happy with him in the slightest, to say the least. He was still making it up to them even now. “What’s the trend?”

You edged yourself closer to him, tilting your chin conspiratorially and speaking in a low whisper. “Hear me out.”

Oscar’s eyebrows furrowed, clueless. He scrolled through TikTok very rarely, mainly preferring to stick to television, and sometimes Instagram reels, so he had no idea what you were talking about. “Pardon?”

“So, basically,” you explained, your voice bright with mischief, “you have to think of a few characters, or people, that you think are attractive, although others might disagree with you. For example, hear me out,” you started, a moment’s pause between your response. “Bumblebee from Transformers.”

Oscar’s jaw dropped as the name clicked. “The robot? You want to tell me that you find a machine attractive?”

“He’s protective and sweet, and has really good music taste,” you defended, pouting.

“Goddamn, Y/N, starting off strong.” Oscar hummed under his breath, thinking. “Hear me out, Megan Fox but in Jennifer’s Body.”

You groaned loudly, annoyed. “That’s not a ‘hear me out’. Everyone agrees that Megan Fox in that film was beautiful. It has to be something unhinged, like, hear me out” — you clucked your tongue, pondering over the various choices floating around in your mind — “the Goldfish cracker on the front of the bag.”

Oscar made a distinct choking noise, his face flushing red. “An animal? God, Y/N. I should report you to the police so they can put you behind bars.”

You swatted him on the shoulder, barely missing him since his reflexes were superhuman. “Try again, Osc. Really shock me with this next one, please.”

“Hear me out…Belle from Beauty and the Beast.” Oscar waited for your approval, and you sighed, throwing your hands up in the air in surrender. “What? How was that not good? She’s a cartoon!”

“Everyone loves Belle! She’s fierce, intelligent, and stunning. All qualities that are conventionally attractive!” You shook your head. “Come on. Hear me out, a string bass.”

Oscar’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “What the — Please tell me you’re joking, love. There’s no way you could find an instrument attractive.”

“A bass is tall, deep-pitched, and mysterious. Just what I like in a man.” You beamed up at him. “OK, Oscar. Don’t disappoint me.”

He side-eyed you, tapping his fingers on his lap as he thought. “I have one.” You watched him with bated breath, hoping that he would finally catch on. “Hear me out, Sydney Sweeney, in general.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “I give up, Oscar. I should’ve known that this wouldn’t have worked. Lando would be so much better to do this with… Let me ask him if he’s free.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, pulling you onto his lap before you could escape, and giving you a quick peck to your lips. “Sorry, darling. Better luck next time?”

You huffed. “Whatever, Oscar. I forgot you were an inadequate, basic white boy.”

Oscar nudged his nose against your jaw, whispering in a husky, deep voice. “Hear me out, my girlfriend, Y/N L/N. She might be batshit crazy sometimes, but she’s absolutely breathtaking. When she’s underneath me, begging for my cock like a good girl? It’s a fucking work of art.”

You suppressed a shiver, looping your arm and burying yourself against him, arousal dancing under your skin. “Fuck, OK. You win.”

He kissed you again, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Oh, I know. I always do. Future world champion, remember?”

“Arrogant prick,” you muttered, but your curses were swallowed up by a new wave of kisses Oscar pressed against your lips.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

[fict1onallyobsessed]

Just watched act 1 and I'm actually feral for Sevika. Like omg what?! How is she so hot?! Anyway I've had this idea of sharing a smoke with her. Specially shotgunning. Um. Yeah. Anyway maybe that would turn into something a bit more - NSFW should we say. Definitely biting. You know what I'm talking about lol anyway this isn't a lot to work with I know.. I just saw your post asking for Sevika requests so I figured I'd pop in

Sevika x F!Reader 18+

Her lungs burnt as she inhaled her cigar, watching you fix her arm for the hundredth time this week. Your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, screwdriver carefully pulling out the broken metal parts in her arm, clinking in the silence.

She could feel your frustration before she even entered your little mechanic shop. People were being more demanding for fixes as Zaun practically relied on prosthetic limbs, and you were rated the best one for the job. Sometimes you felt like a pawn; people didn't even pay that well. You might have to think of increasing the prices...

"You think too much."

You sighed, looking up at your girlfriend who huffed out smoke through her nose. She knew you were busy, and a part of her felt bad last time you stayed late to fix her arm, so she tried really hard to keep it in a manageable state for longer than usual.

Heavy on tried.

"You should learn how to fight." You snapped back playfully, looking back down at the arm for the final few fixes. The arm hissed and popped once, finally being fully functional again. "Even Ran doesn't come in this often. Might have to start charging you."

Sevika scoffed as she watched you stand up to toss your tools onto your very littered desk, your hands coming up to wipe your tired face.

"You're processor is fried. I'll make you a new one soon, but this one should hold up if you can hold off fighting for a few days."

She was listening but all she could focus on is how exhausted your eyes looked. She asked if you were done for the day, if you wanted to go home but you were already backlogged for weeks with new projects and fixes. You politely declined, walking over to her again and taking the cigar from her lips only to put it in your own mouth.

Sevika didn't flinch. It was something you did often, especially on nights where you needed something to keep you awake for a little longer.

Sevika sat on the small couch, looking up at you as you inhaled, smoke escaping your nose before you even got to exhale. She thought for a moment, then grabbed the back on your thighs and pulled you to straddle her.

"'Vika, I need to get-"

"To work. I know." She casually said, taking the cigar from your hands and inhaling deeply herself. Her eyes remained on yours while her hand reached up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you up to her lips.

For a second you thought she was going to kiss you, like she did always in thanks when you fix her up. But instead, she stopped you right before her face, hand now moving to open your mouth with her thumb. Then she exhaled.

You felt dizzy. You had smoked plenty of times, and since meeting Sevika you smoked plenty more. But this was so intoxicating it felt better than any cigarette you've ever tried.

You relaxed on her lap, sinking onto her as you tried to breathe normally. Her mechanic hand held your waist, the other firmly on your jaw to keep it open against her mouth. Just as the smoke began to fade, she pulled you fully against her, lips clashing together in a kiss.

You pulled away only when you felt you couldn't breathe, both of your chests rising and falling as you stared down at Sevika, her pupils blown wide, devouring you.

Work could wait.

You grabbed the cigar back, inhaling so deeply you felt your throat close up momentarily. Still, you leaned down and grabbed her jaw while her hands fell to your hips, gripping tightly to pull you even closer.

You exhaled the smoke as slowly as you could, relishing in the moment for a while before the smoke faded again. You wasted no time in kissing her again, a slight moan escaping your lips and into her mouth. You could taste the smoke in her mouth but it only seemed to rile you up more.

Your hips bucked, unintentionally, and you felt Sevika smirk into the kiss.

"That's all it takes to get you going?" Sevika teased. You replied with a breathy and rushed 'shut up' before going back to her lips, rocking your hips more now she was aware of your intentions. Her grip on you tightened, moving you so that you were straddling one of her thighs.

You really tried to keep your groans in, but the way your clit was grinding against the inside of your jeans. Fuck.

"Fuck. Do it again." You lifted the cigar to her lips, making her inhale it and letting her grab your jaw once more, shot gunning the smoke right into your mouth. You tried to breathe steadily, but her hand made you grind on her thigh more.

"So fucking pretty. Barely touched you and you're gonna cum already?"

You were so fucking close, a whine leaving your lips as you hid your face in the crook of her neck. She could feel the small puffs of air you breathed, trying to maintain some kind of control. Your teeth nipped at her skin, her own composure slowly failing.

You huffed when she accidentally made a sound when you bit into her neck. Your hips stuttered and bucked uncontrollably as you came, lips remaining at her skin until you were stable enough to pull away.

"That's all it takes to get you going?" You teased, mocking her words as angry red marks appeared on her neck. She was flushed and panting, your hips still held by her hands. She smirked, kissing you again before standing up and making you stand on your wobbly legs.

"Home. Now."

[oikarma]

left my message!

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader

summary: you’ve heard about the legend but you’re not quite prepared to meet him in real life.

a/n: first part is like a smau companion i guess? but this is the actual interaction which makes the twt posts make more sense!! 

part one / two

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

two days ago

you still can’t believe it. the paddock pass is smooth under your hands, so smooth it might just slip out and away. you’ve never been so close before, despite having watched many of the races on a grainy screen or far, far up into the grandstands. it didn’t make sense, really. when you were younger, your mother disapproved of flouncing around just to go to a racetrack—she certainly wouldn’t accompany you, with the engines roaring past, when your music on 70% volume was already deafening to her. but now, early decisions had come out, very much in your favor. mother was pleased, and that left you to go wherever you wished over easter.

so you’re here, standing in the ferrari paddock. it’s a gift on both guanyu and your brother’s part, flying you out at last minute’s notice when charles’s surgery was confirmed. an extremely generous gift you’re not sure you can repay anytime soon. it makes you feel a bit guilty, until you see how happy both of them are to see you. with college applications, you haven’t had much time to facetime your brother—he was overseas working—and the same went for guanyu. late family reunion, you decide. 

lando walks pass the ferrari garage and waves at you. it turned out you had rooms on the same floor after bumping into each other in the elevator. it wasn’t the first time you’d met him: you’d been present at a few of his karting competitions when you were younger. you weren’t “friends,” you’d argue, but you’d talked enough to be good acquaintances. he was also a familiar face in the uk. that is, before he moved to monaco. 

you grin at lando and turn back to guanyu, inside the garage. he’s trembling, even though his smile is wide and back is straight. charles has done well this season, and lewis is in the other seat. of course he would be nervous. you still remember how he sobbed when sauber released the news. formula one was the pinnacle of motorsports. being there was an achievement in itself, anyone knew. but when you were constantly outperformed by other drivers in other cars, it was hard to keep track of the fact.

you place a hand on his arm. “hey, you good?”

“yeah, i’m fine.” he reaches out for a one-handed hug. “glad to see you here. just a bit different from last year.”

“hey, come on. this is for everyone here for you. seeing you race is enough.”

zhou massages his temple. “what if it’s not? i don’t want to disappoint them again.”

“you won’t. your practice times are great! and if people think they do, they should try driving themselves.” you squeeze his hand. “where’s my brother? let him talk some sense into you.”

to that, he laughs. “oh, he did. told me that i should be happy i get the opportunity to drive and i think he’s right.”

you wince. sounds a bit harsh, but you know your brother means well.

“yeah, he usually is. probably a bit salty that he’s not a driver, too. but g’luck out there, okay? don’t crash.”

“i’ll try.” 

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

one day ago

once the sprint is over, you can tell a weight has been lifted off his back. fourth is great. fourth is amazing. max leads in first, lewis in second, lando in third, and guanyu in fourth. it’s not a shabby place in a lineup like that. points have been scored for ferrari and everyone is all smiles when they come to congratulate him.

lewis pats him on the back. “good to see you out there, zhou.”

“thanks. nice work today.” his data analyst taps him on the shoulder and guanyu is being led away. he waves goodbye at you.

the brit turns to you and offers a hand. “hamilton, lewis hamilton. i don’t think i’ve seen you around before.”

lewis! hamilton! is shaking your hand! meeting lando is less crazy because you’ve seen mini him stumbling off the track. but this is seven-time world champion, sir lewis hamilton. his braids are sleek and he’s perfectly polished: glowing, even. it should be illegal to stand around in a half-zipped race suit.

you shake his hand, making sure your grip is strong because your father said that’s the way to make an impression. “i’m yn. i’m guanyu’s friend.”

“oh, i see. you watch racing, much? i suppose you do.”

“yeah. he got me into it and i never stopped.”

lewis gives you a coy smile. “tell me, who’s your favorite driver?” he leans against one of the floating tables.

“i hate to break it to you, but it’s max.” 

his eyes widen dramatically. he teases, “oh dear, we’re starting off on the wrong foot already.”

“if it makes you feel any better, i meant current driver.”

“okay, okay. no restrictions. favorite driver of all time?”

“kimi.” 

he raises a thoughtful eyebrow. “you seem to have a type.”

“so who’s yours?” and you want to hit yourself right there because you just asked lewis hamilton who his favorite driver is. stupid, stupid, stupid. it’s probably senna. he’s too polite to say himself and you think you’ve heard that somewhere before.

“senna.”

bingo! quite the genius, you are. it’s hard to think around him, so that’s practically twice the achievement.

lewis sees your smile and asks, “why, do i have something on my face?”

“oh, no. i was thinking.”

“...about? nevermind, i won’t pry. tell me, yn, what else do you like to do?”

how conversational. if he does this one more time you might be convinced you’re friends. he’s probably just bored. 

“sorry, excuse me?” you see a couple of fans outside the garage. the pit lane tour guide is surprised to see lewis still there. “could we get a few photos, please?”

lewis turns to you, surprisingly apologetic. “see you around?”

“alright.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

(a/n: 1st of the convo is post-meeting lewis & 2nd part is post-gp)

[leascorner]

j.b.b | The Grinch

Summary: Y/N can’t travel to see her family on Christmas so she invite her grumpy loner neighbour, Bucky.

Pairing:  Post blip!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings: Use of Y/N and feminine pronoums, a few mentions of food and alcohol, angst, some vulgar language, everything is in the summary really, this is set like the falcon and the winter soldier never happened or it's happening before that.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is the 4th Xmas OS of the series. So sorry it is a couple of days late. Please do share and like if you enjoyed it, it means a lot! Merry Christmas!

2024 Christmas Masterlist | Main Masterlist

18th of December

$125

Y/N blinked at the number being displayed on her phone’s screen. She had stopped right in the middle of what she was doing, in utter disbelief of her discovery. Her whole process of thoughts seemed to have frozen; just like her computer would display “error 404” when she would perform contradictory actions.

She didn’t understand how this was possible; something was wrong obviously wrong because she didn’t expect this number to be displayed. Refusing what she was seeing, she logged out of the app and then back in a couple of times.

Yet, every time, the sentence was the same.

$125

Despite everything, this was currently the amount of money Y/N had on her bank account. These past couple of months, she had been saving for this moment; a moment she had been imagining all year long and for which she expected to be shredding happy tears. Instead, the tears currently running down her cheeks were made of pure anger.

She found the culprit quite easily. A monthly interest payment of a loan that was playfully mocking her on top of her bank statement. Now that she was thinking of it, she should have probably read all those letters; the ones with the red-inked stamp “urgent” printed on them. She had found all the excuses in the world: especially how exhaustive was she after having worked double shifts almost every day lately or that it had just been easier to have them sitting on her coffee table.

Y/N had no idea what she would do. If $125 was probably quite enough to eat until the end of the month if she made a few compromises, there was no way she would be able to buy flight tickets to get home for Christmas. She would have brought them earlier if she had been able to – at a time she still had the money on her bank account, for example – but her colleague had only confirmed that same day they could take over her shifts during the Christmas week. Now, she didn’t have any money and would be alone for the year-end celebration.

Her cell phone ringing made her snap back to reality. She was still in front of her building, keys in one hand, frozen in her action to enter. Her heart sunk has she discovered the picture displayed on the screen; her sister and her, one of the last pictures they had taken together, at Y/N’s university graduation ceremony, a couple of weeks before the blip. Her sister was most likely calling her about this “very good news” Y/N had texted her about that afternoon. Now, she only had to let her know that it had been a false alarm and that she wouldn’t be able to make it home this year.

Again.

It wouldn’t be the first time indeed. In fact, ever since the blip had been reversed, Y/N had not been home for the Christmas. At first, she had chosen not to. She was the only person in her family to have been gone. Without her, they all had continued with their lives, and the post-blip had been brutal for her. One second, she was full of life: she had just gotten an amazing job in New York, and she was going to live her dream. The other, the blip had happened, five years had passed, and she had lost everything. Her family, her job, herself. Her little sister was now older than her, graduating college and ready to start a family. Her parents had retired and started a new life in California. She didn’t have a dream job anymore; she had no job at all in fact. In this world that had changed so much, she felt out of places. So, she did what she thought was could do. She left everyone behind and moved to New York.

The months after moving there had been full of hope. Hope that she could still make it to her dream job and life after all. She had gotten in touch with associations working on helping people post-blip. They said: if she took a few classes, she could be retrained on the most up to date information and she would be able to get the job she had always dreamt of after all. Yet, it was even worse than college. She had to work part-time to be able to take the night classes. She either worked or studied; leaving only a few minutes a day to eat, sleep and bath. This was until some court bailiffs came banging to her door. The banks had been quick to be back to find the people that had disappeared and were now asking them to provide the past five years’ debt payment. All of her dreams had been shattered yet again.

Determined not to ask for help, Y/N stayed in New York and totally forgot about her dreams. Instead, she found another job at a bar-restaurant – one that paid better than the cashier part-time job she had until that – and worked there ever since, trying to pay off her initial student loan and the other loan she had had to take to be able to repay the requested five-years’ worth of debt in one go. She was now planning every spendings up to the last penny. She was living off diluted body and hair shower gel and all sorts of techniques to have the impression of having eaten a lot more than she had. Yet, it hadn’t been enough.

It was never enough…

Drying off her tears, she answered her phone and stuck it against her ear with her shoulder while she entered the building. She was quick to break the news to her sister. She kept her voice steady, not showing any emotions to shorten the conversation as much as possible. She did so as she collected her mail and then turned to take the stairs up to her apartment.

On the phone, Y/N didn’t see her neighbour coming down the stairs and eventually run straight into him. She would have fallen down the two steps she had just climbed if he hadn’t caught up by the arms at the very last moment.

"For fuck’s sake!" he sighed angrily. "Can’t you watch where you’re going?"

Y/N only answered by rolling her eyes. She picked up her phone from the floor; her sister was still on the line, calling after her. While she turned it to her, she discovered her screen totally shattered. She would have cried if she could have…

Without further ado, she put her phone back to her ear and continued to go up the stairs. Her neighbour – a guy that moved in a couple of months ago and that was hardly saying ‘hello’ the few times they had seen each other in the hall – huffed and without thinking nor turning back, Y/N flipped him off. She would probably be ashamed of this later, but at that moment, she couldn’t care less of what he would think of her.

She couldn’t care less about anything anyway.

20th of December

Two days later, as Y/N was slowly accepting the fact that she would not be with her family for Christmas, she encountered her favourite neighbour in the hall again.

She had just gotten home from work and was collecting a parcel in her letterbox. This was a present for her sister that she wouldn’t be able to give her in the end and for which she couldn’t even pay stamp to ship it to her home. She would be lucky if she could return it and get a few dollars back.

As she was closing her letterbox, her neighbour entered the hall. Feeling a little guilty about the other night, Y/N’s first thought was to apologies for her behaviour. A quick look at the guy and the constant frown on his face made her swallow her saliva; hard.

He was good-looking though, with his blue-piercing eyes and full lips. The stubble on his chin –always of the same length whenever she would see him – let her think that he was taking care of himself; though the way he dressed was clearly demonstrating he wasn’t really on point on the fashion side. If he wasn’t always so… whatever he always was… she probably would have liked him. With his grumpy looks, he reminded her of this movie character she liked so much when she was a kid: the Grinch.

In silence, Y/N watched from the corner of her eyes as he also checked his mailbox, a couple of meters away from hers. After gathering the few letters in the box, he sighed and abruptly closed the door.

“What now?” he asked as he turned to her.

Y/N jumped to the tone of his voice. He was clearly annoyed at her while she hadn’t done anything. At least that day.

“No need to be a dick,” she quickly bit back, annoyance building up in her voice as much as his, and he huffed again – this seemed to be something he would do a lot. She had to take a quick deep breath before continuing: "I wanted to… apology for the other night.”

The words nearly burnt her mouth as she was saying them. It cost her a lot to admit her wrongs, yet his cold eyes only started at her, and he spoke no words back. She didn’t know how she wanted him to react, but his absence of reaction startled her, and only made her want to justify herself further.

“I wasn’t in a good mood,” she added.

“You are not the only one to have bad days,” was all he said before leaving.

Taken aback, Y/N watched as he climbed the stairs and disappeared out of his sight. She couldn’t believe how much of a jerk he had been. She swore this was the last time she would ever speak to him.

22nd of December

Y/N rarely overslept.

The only reason for that was that she didn’t sleep a lot. Ever since the blip, she had trouble finding sleep and then, staying asleep. It was like her body had a big fear of missing out on everything and anything, so it just let her sleep the number of hours she needed to keep going. She would have thought that with the double shifts she was doing, she would have slept better, but she didn’t. Instead, she stayed wide awake in her bed, fixing the ceiling, eyes heavy with tiredness. She had all this time to think about the misery of her own life.

However, it seemed that night that the tiredness had gotten the most out of her, and as she never set an alarm clock – because she rarely needed, she was now going to be late for work. She took only a couple of minutes to get ready, drink a coffee and brush her teeth all at the same times. Ten minutes later, she was already grabbing her stuff and putting her coat on.

As she opened the door of her apartment, she came face-to-face with her neighbour going up the stairs. They both immediately stopped in their tracks.

He looked at her. Her eyes still puffy from the fact she had still been sleeping less than fifteen minutes ago. Hair all other the place even if she had put hair clips in them to keep them into place. She had dressed up in such a hurry, the shirt of her uniform was halfway in and halfway out of her pants.

She looked at him looking at her. With the same frown on his face and the same cold glance. Just this time, the circles around his eyes were darker than ever and he looked much more tired than her. For the first time, she saw something vulnerable in him, a flash of sadness in the blankness of his face.

They looked at one another. So different yet somehow similar. With their inability to sleep properly, the memories that kept them up at night and their resentment about this life that had been taken away from them. Both of them with all their trauma and weaknesses. With their constant melancholy and sometimes, their good days.

They looked at each other some more and then they both continued on with their day.

24th of December

Y/N was just settling on her couch – which was also her bed – in front of the TV, wrapped in her fluffy blanket and two pairs of fleece socks on her feet when she heard a knock on her door. She froze instantly; bad memories coming back to her in an instant. She had been visited a few times by different people always banging on her door at sunrise; each time, it never had ended well. Per pure reflex, she held her breath as if whoever was on her front door would be able to hear her - the walls were probably thin, but not this thin.

After counting to ten and not hearing anything else, she relaxed into her sofa. It was probably just her imagination at this point, this was how tired she was. She reached for the remote on the coffee table and started an episode of her favourite TV show. This was when she heard a knock for the second time. One time too many for her.

This time she paused her show and got on her feet to have a look. Sulking for the five steps it took her to go to the front door, she opened it bluntly and was surprised to find her neighbour ‘The Grinch’.

He looked at her, surprised and she looked at him, probably even more surprised. Her gaze turned instinctively to her feet and the fluffy pyjamas she was wearing. She couldn’t help the heat crawling up her neck, so she looked back to him and her eyes got stuck on his hands. One of flesh and one of metal. Holding a metal box between them. That he was now holding up to her.

She frowned.

“For you.”

Her eyes moved up to his face again, to check if he was serious or not. She could have fallen asleep the minutes her show started and be dreaming; though from how cold her feet were, she was pretty sure she wasn’t. Nothing on his face indicated he was joking – he didn’t seem to be the type to joke anyway. He wasn’t actually frowning, but he still had a small wrinkle in between his two eyebrows from all the frowning he was doing that somehow it still looked like he was. She wouldn’t say the expression on his face was friendly, but it had something that for once made her not want to close the door on his face.

Perhaps, it was because of the straight line his lips were in. They which were was usually so pink and so… luscious. From that, she couldn’t tell what he was feeling right now – was he nervous? Or simply contemplating all his life choices now that he was in front of her. She knew it was costing him to be here in front of her.

She looked back at the metal box in his hands; was he really expecting her to take it?

“My ma’ used to cook cookies for our neighbours,” he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His glance adverted to the ceiling as if he was looking for the right words to continue: “I thought maybe… this was a good way to apologize. For the other day…and all the times before that.”

This time, it was Y/N’s time to stop frowning – she would have to check later if she had also a wrinkle. She took the box he was handing her and nodded, in some sort of way to mean ‘thank you’. The box was heavier than she had expected it to be. She wondered if he had made them himself, like his ‘ma’ was probably doing.

“My name is Bucky by the way.” Was all he said before leaving her like that, a box of cookies in her hands.

25th of December

Working at a restaurant had its own perks. One of them being that Y/N could have at least one meal a day in the form of the staff meal. And on special occasions – like today – she could even get home with leftovers, most of them she would normally stock up in her freezer to make sure she had something to eat in the next couple of days.

That day though, when she climbed up the stairs, she didn’t stop on the second floor where her apartment was. Instead, her feet got her to the fourth floor, on the second door on the right. One she had never been to and yet, she knew exactly where to find it.

She didn’t hesitate one second before knocking, though the few seconds she had to wait she did get cold feet and wonder if it was really a good idea. Bucky did have gifted her handmade cookies – she had eaten a couple after he left while watching her favourite show, and it was the best she probably ever had. However, it did not mean they were now friends. They were just two adults, seeing each other in the hall of their building sometimes. That was all… Then, why was she so damned pulled towards him?

Bucky opened the door when she was about to turn around. He had a blank tank top and black pants on. Thankfully, he did not seem to be in the middle of a Christmas dinner and his apartment was pretty quiet behind him. His usual frown had been replaced by raised eyebrows. He was surprised to see her, on Christmas day, in her work clothes, at his door. He would have probably expected her to be in her family, with her friends or boyfriend, even. Instead, she had nowhere better to be than in front of him, right now.

They stared at each other for what seemed to be a long time, before his cat – Alpine as he called after, while trying to stop it to get outside his apartment – came to rub itself against her legs. She immediately lowered herself to scratch it behind the ear and Bucky observed them without a word. His cat, who was usually more than a little fearful of people it didn't know, was on the verge of lying down on the floor and beg for belly rubs.

“Are you on your own too?” was the only thing he spoke, and she got back on her feet, suddenly remembering why she was actually here.

“Wanna share?” she asked while showing him the paper bag in which she had the leftovers from the restaurant.

His eyes scanned her face a little too long for Y/N’s liking that she grew nervous. She felt like an idiot, believing… whatever – she wasn’t even sure she was believing. She was just lonely, having been alone for too long. The only people she hung out with would be her colleagues, on her work time – and they had taken a drink together after work a time or two. Most of them were students or only planning to be in the job for a couple of months before bouncing back. None of them was like her, as if she had been the only one to disappear off of the surface of the earth.

Over the last few years, she had repeated to herself – over and over again – that she didn’t need anyone. It was true somehow; she was fine alone. It was just that today she wanted a break from all of this, and she had thought of him. Because she had seen the veil before his eyes. She had seen it on hers before. She knew why… He was just like her. And perhaps, she had thought, they could be alone together. That was what they called the Christmas spirit, no?

“I mean, I’ve got more than enough, and you can have some. We don’t need to eat together. Totally fine if you wish to be alone.” She overexplained, speaking so fast he couldn’t say a word, even if he wanted to. She was just going to go home anyway. It was probably already late in the day; she would eat some food because she could – it was a victory on its own. “And you’ve probably already eaten, it’s fine. Don’t mind me.”

She was going to turn around, but he stepped on the side, making room for her to get in. Alpine instantly trotted in, its tail straight as a pick.

“I’ve got Gin,” was all he said again. A man of a few words he was.

And that was how they would both of them spent their first Christmases with someone in years. They would drink gin, try a bit of every leftover Y/N had gotten and finish by some kind of French pastry neither of them knew how it was named. They would speak for hours – or sort of, it was a few words here and there, making sentences altogether. They would have a good time and when it was time for Y/N to go home, she would suggest doing it again and Bucky would smile in response. A soft smile that would warm her heart forever. A smile that illuminated his whole face and probably his life.

And perhaps that was what exactly what she had come to find that night.

Some warmth.

[mattslilies]

✩ model!reader - models for fresh love ✩

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

you pulled up to the building, double checking the address before you got out of your car and walked in. you'd had a scheduling mishap and your manager had double booked you for the day, so you swore under your breath when you noticed that you were showing up late, and for a brand you'd never worked with.

you'd seen the founder, one Chris Sturniolo, follow you on Instagram about two weeks ago, and after scrolling through his account, you'd ended up following him back.

not long after you did, you noticed him liking quite a few of your posts, and then came a ping from your phone, signaling a new message.

2:16 pm: "love all the shoots you've done, they look amazing. i have a shoot for my own brand coming up, was wondering if you wanted to model?"

you read the direct message, the gears in your brain beginning to spin. you couldn't lie, you thought chris was incredibly attractive, and you almost never turned down a good modeling opportunity.

2:23 pm: "what's the brand? would love to look into and consider it."

2:24 pm: "@/freshlove"

a fast responder, then. you scrolled through the account that he had linked, and while it wasn't the type of thing you normally modeled, you were always up for a little bit of a change, a little step outside of your comfort zone.

just as you clicked out of the page, a new message notification crossed your screen.

2:27 pm: "hope you consider it well. would love to see your face there."

was he flirting with you?

you smiled to yourself, never turning down an opportunity for a little fun.

2:28 pm: "i will. would be a shame to miss out on such a nice looking offer. the clothes are cute too."

your only response was a heart reaction to your message, and just two weeks later, here you were.

slipping your phone into your pocket, you glanced around at all the people bustling through the building, unsure of where to go.

"you showed up."

you spun around, quickly realizing it was chris who had spoken, and who you were now standing face to face with.

"yes, i did. i'm so sorry i'm running late, my manager double booked me by mistake-"

chris just laughed, cutting you off.

"don't worry about it. double booked, huh? you must be popular."

you smiled back at him, a teasing glint in your eyes.

"yes, incredibly so. you should be grateful i chose this shoot over the other one i had scheduled today."

his grin only widened, enjoying the playful banter.

"well, consider me lucky i scored such a high demand model. i'll show you where you can grab clothes, if you'd like."

"after you."

it wasn't a far walk to where the rest of the models were setting up, most of them smiling and immediately welcoming you. you settled in easily, not noticing where chris disappeared to, but putting it mostly out of your mind as you let the makeup artist do her job.

the shoot went smoothly, you being the last one to go. chris coincidentally reappeared just in time to oversee all of your photos, smiling when the cameraman showed him each one.

"how's it look?" you called, that same confident smile on your face.

you'd learned early on that insecurity gets you nowhere, and while you weren't cocky, or egotistical, you were photogenic.

"perfect." he was incapable of hiding the smirk on his face.

the shoot wrapped up, and chris showed up once again as you were exiting the changing room, the outfits you'd just modeled draped over your arm.

"pictures looked fantastic."

"thank you. are they going on the instagram?"

chris nodded. "as soon as i get them, yes."

"tag me in them." you winked, starting to head out of the building after grabbing your things.

chris shook his head, smiling, privately loving your confident but playful demeanor.

"can i walk you to your car, or are you too booked and busy?"

you waved your hand in the air, dismissing the joke with a smile.

"never too busy to have a pretty boy walk me somewhere."

quickly finding your car, you and chris walked over there, generally chatting about both his brand and your job. he seemed genuinely interested, which was a nice change of pace.

"well, this is me."

you felt a slight twinge of disappointment as you held the handle of your car door, having thoroughly enjoyed the day.

chris still held eye contact with you for a few moments, not making any move to walk back inside, before gently pressing his lips against yours.

taken by surprise, but not uncomfortable, you kissed back, feeling his hand wrap around your waist. after a few seconds, he pulled back, that same smirk painting his lips.

"i hope to see you next time i have a photoshoot."

"i'll be expecting a message."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: this was a little longer than i expected!!!

[flwrkid14]

Omg for ur Jason Todd: Dad Mode Activated post, imagine how Jason would react if Tim gets injured during patrol or try to encourage Tim to take an interest in a few hobbies like cooking/ reading or what about how Jason helps Tim with some possible insecurities like a few neck scars

I absolutely love this ask!! I love adding and world-building for literally all of my posts!!!

I can totally picture Jason constantly carrying around a travel med kit for Tim, just in case something goes wrong. He’d try so hard not to go full helicopter-parent mode, but Tim’s always getting himself into trouble since he's so used to not having any kind of supervision!

As for the hobby thing, I think it would be fun if Jason pulled Tim into all sorts of random activities, not necessarily to get him into a hobby, but just to try things together!

Tim shows up at Jason’s safehouse one day, expecting a mission-related problem, only to find Jason sitting on the couch with a basket of colorful yarns and his laptop pulled up to a “Beginner’s Guide to Crocheting.” He'll say something casual like, “C’mon Timbo, Lian’s birthday’s in three months. Let’s see who can make the better stuffy.”

He'll pull Tim into the kitchen to teach him how to cook, or just be an extra pair of hands when he’s preparing something. He'll drag him to the library to pick out a book or just browse the shelves, sitting together while they read. He'll sign them up for a painting class or take Tim rock climbing after work, then convince him to join a cooking workshop where they make their own lunch (Jason only signs up because Tim refuses to go to any of these without him now).

But It’s Jason’s way of trying to teach Tim something new that he can implement into his personal life, without it feeling like a forced obligation. He makes sure to do these things with Tim, so it’s more about sharing the experience than pushing him into anything.

And as for the insecurities… wow, this could get heavy. I can totally imagine Jason slowly realizing that Tim’s insecure about his neck, not because Tim ever said anything, but because Jason’s been watching him more closely lately. He notices how Tim always covers his neck—wearing turtlenecks even in summer, buttoning up shirts all the way, hiding it as much as possible. That’s when it hits Jason: the scars are his. He’s the one who put them there. And suddenly, he feels this wave of guilt and nausea hit him. He doesn't push Tim to talk about it, though. Instead, Jason quietly apologizes. Deeply, mournfully, with a few tears in his eyes. He doesn't beg for forgiveness, but he reassures Tim that those scars don’t define him. They’re proof of how strong Tim is. That he’s endured so much and is still here. And Jason will make sure that no more scars ever mar Tim’s skin—at least, not while Jason’s around.

It doesn’t fix Tim’s insecurity overnight, but it’s a start. Tim might not feel strong all the time, but with Jason’s words in his head, he knows that the scars don’t make him any less of a badass. And as much as he still struggles, he knows Jason will always be there to take care of him, even when he doesn’t feel as strong as Jason makes him out to be.

Tim comes to the conclusion that Bruce and Jack will never come close to what Jason has become in his life.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 115 (Getting Cozy With New Friends?)

The events of this post occurred after New Year's Eve at the Salty Paw (Generation 2 Pts. 106 and 107).

After an eventful holiday season, Heather Nesbitt phoned her youngest sister on New Year's Day. Hazel checked the call display and forced a smile. "Hey Big Sis, what are you up to?"

"Hey, Little Dandelion. Just watching the Holiday Yule Log on repeat (totally autonomously) before I do some bookkeeping for the clinic. Helps me focus, and they haven't taken it off the air yet this year. How are you doing?"

"Pretty awful," Hazel admitted. "I'm sorry we just left without saying goodbye last night. We were too busy giving each other the cold shoulder all the way back to Henford."

"Don't apologize. I'm glad you got home safely, but I know things between you aren't okay. I think we all hoped things would get better after you talked on Winterfest Day."

"We didn't really talk. We skated and went home and just didn't fight for a few days."

Heather frowned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Hazel shook her head. "Not right now. I want to have a nap and then get out of the house for the night. It's weird being here surrounded by her family all the time. I feel like her mother and brother are constantly judging me."

"They love Nicola like we love you," Heather said. "But she shouldn't talk to you like she does. You don't deserve it. I'm willing to bet that a lot of what she's going through isn't even really about you."

Hazel sighed. "I just make it all worse."

Heather loved her baby sister and would always support her, but she never would have advised Hazel's next move.

To end a New Year's Day where Hazel spent as much time avoiding Nicola and her family as possible, she found herself drinking screwdrivers at the pub that night. She was alone, again, until she met Suri Romeo and flirted over drinks until well after midnight.

When the pub closed, they continued with a stroll along the River Bagley. The place near the village green, which had earlier that day been packed with locals for the annual Polar Bear Swim, was devoid of any lamplights, but Hazel could still make out Suri's smile in the light of the moon. "Are you happily married, Hazel?"

She didn't want to answer and pulled Suri in for a kiss. It felt electric - nothing like the kisses she shared with her wife. Not now, and maybe not ever.

But she thought of Nicola back home, probably asleep and snoring a little. Her wedding vows meant she wasn't supposed to do this, and she pulled away with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry," she said. "My wife."

Suri nodded with an understanding smile. "I'm living with my grandparents at their farm in Old New Henford. Call me when you figure out some things."

But Hazel called Suri long before she had anything "figured out," inviting her to the first Finchwick Fair of the new year. "I have to be there with Mayor Varner, but it's really a great opportunity for you to live like a true Henford local," she told Suri, and they met outside the village green on a sunny winter afternoon.

"Did your wife not want to be here?" Suri wondered.

"She's grading papers and the Finchwick Fair isn't really her thing. She loves gardening, but she hasn't done much of it lately." Nicola recalled the woman she used to know with some regret before quickly brushing it away and returning her focus to Suri. "Here, I saw this video that made me think of you. It's a cat, but he's a chef. It's called ChefCat!"

They were interrupted by friendly Mayor Varner, who was happy to meet anyone in his town at any time. "Hello there! I'd never miss a new face!"

"Mayor Varner, this is Suri Romeo. She's just moved to town to learn to be a great chef from her grandmother, Clara Bjergsen."

"Ah! The Bjergsens are wonderful citizens! And your grandmother's baked goods are the reason I'm out of shape."

Suri smiled. "Hopefully one day I'll be just as good as she is."

"You'll have a wonderful mentor. Welcome to town, Miss Romeo!" He turned to a starry-eyed Nicola. "How are those new year's reports coming, Hazel?"

"I should be done this week, sir. It's a lot of information to put together."

He frowned. They both knew he'd expected those reports on his desk last week, but the work was a drag, and he'd given her too many previous extensions. She forced a smile for her boss.

When it got a little cooler, Hazel and Suri went inside the pub to warm up. They danced to some holiday music still playing on the in-house stereo, before Hazel pulled a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling. "Laura must've forgotten to take this down with the rest of the Winterfest decorations," she mused, but she held it playfully over her head anyway. Suri laughed, leaning in to kiss her quickly on the lips.

Hazel glanced around. The bar was mostly empty with most patrons enjoying the fair outside, but they knew they shouldn't be spotted doing what they were doing.

They continued to see one another in secret, hanging out at the community garden in Old New Henford to get to know one another. Suri told Hazel about life growing up in an apartment in San Myshuno with her parents and brothers, and about visits to Henford to see her grandparents and aunts every summer. She even told her about her mother's cousin Olivia, who was a basketball star at Foxbury Institute.

Hazel was happy to talk about her family - her parents, her sisters, her brother, all her in-laws and nieces and nephews - but not her wife. And she knew her friendship with Suri was dangerous. She wanted Suri all to herself and didn't want her wife to know anything about her.

As the snow melted beneath her jacket, Hazel would cloudgaze (even in Henford's mild, sunny winter climate) and imagine herself with Suri. Not Nicola.

She knew marriage counseling was the best course of action, but when she looked at Nicola, she didn't want to do it. When Suri entered her life, she could finally admit to herself what she'd tried to mask for years. Hazel was no longer attracted to her objectively beautiful wife, and no amount of counseling would bring her feelings back.

She grew increasingly careless in her time spent with Suri. She told Suri she wanted out, but conversations with Nicola these days always ended in tears. She didn't tell anyone what was going on because she knew they'd tell her to be better. To talk to Nicola, to end things with Suri before they went too far, to be a bigger person. She'd lost her will to care about any of it.

On Sportsball Sunday, Hazel wanted to go to the Gnome's Arms to watch the game. River had invited her to her childhood home, but Suri would be at the pub. She was getting ready to go when her girlfriend surprised her at home in the Bramblewood.

"What are you doing here? I was just leaving."

"I came to tell you my little cousin Jada heard at school that you and I are seeing each other."

Hazel froze. If kids at school were talking about Mrs. Moody-Nesbitt's wife having an affair, then... Sure enough, Nicola met them in the yard with a churlish grin.

"Oh good! You're both here, so I only need to get mad once before I forget either of you and leave while Hazel packs her things."

Hazel was quiet, letting Nicola unleash a torrent of disappointment at her affair. "It kills me Hazel. I wanted a family with you. It's all we talked about for years, but then I lost my dad and you cheated. And I found out at work, which is so embarrassing! My schedule was never the problem when it came to counseling. I worked the same schedule every day, I came home - you're the one who always had somewhere else to be."

Hazel was defeated and ready to leave, and she apologized for embarrassing her. "I shouldn't have been with Suri behind your back, but what are we really salvaging anymore, Nic? I'm sorry."

Nicola scowled. "Oh, you're done? Hazel, I already got the divorce papers from the courthouse. Sign them and get out of my house."

Though Nicola put on a confident facade while she took the initiative to end their union, they both left the marriage with regrets. They could have tried harder, if they were really meant to be. But more than anything, they could have waited to get married. Maybe then they'd never have married at all, and their differences wouldn't have been so hard to take.

And now, with the sunny weather betraying their broken hearts, Hazel Nesbitt and Nicola Moody-McMillan had shared their last cozy celebrations together.

How would each move on from here? ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

The answers to that question! Nicola's next chapter begins here as a contestant on Dating Deanna, a reality TV series debuting in January by @changingplumbob, where dozens of contestants will compete for the heart of beautiful bachelorette Deanna York.

Hazel lives with the Nesbitt-Gordons for now, so we'll follow her story with Heather and her crew in Sims In Bloom!

This was hardly cozy, but I've written a couple surprise bonus posts for tomorrow/my Christmas Day that are much more fun, and they finish off the reward event with a lot less angst and drama!

NOTE: For the record, I believe in working on a marriage, but Hazel and Nicola's compatibility was awful once Lovestruck patched in. They truly grew apart, not at all together, and didn't have enough desire to put in the work to save their short-lived marriage. Then Hazel met Suri and they were flirty and got along so much better, so I figured she and Nicola might both be happier without each other and they divorced.

While Hazel has a potential someone, I was trying to think about what to do with Nicola when Dating Deanna was announced. I thought this was perfect because now I don't have to plot her next chapter, and if she doesn't win Deanna's heart she'll return with new lore and backstory to write for.

I know she has few fans these days and that's fine! But when she's with the right person and not cheated on (entering a bachelorette competition could really test her), Nicola will put in the work. She's too good and family oriented not to. Hazel, on the other hand, should possibly reckon with why she chose to cheat and not leave...

[girl-next-door-writes]

Golden Hour

Characters: Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: On a snow-kissed Christmas Eve, the quiet magic of a museum visit brings unspoken feelings between you and Steve Harrington to light, culminating in a heartfelt confession under twinkling lights.

Word Count: 1321 words

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

A/N: This is the final of my Build a Christmas Fics, and a birthday gift to myself. A sweet anon requested it, and after writing it I decided it had to be my Christmas Eve post, so enjoy.

The museum was aglow with warm light, golden and soft, casting long shadows across the gleaming marble floors. Christmas Eve had brought a quiet charm to the usually bustling space, and the twinkle of fairy lights strung along the banisters only added to the enchantment. Outside, snow fell steadily, blanketing the city in a layer of pristine white. Inside, you wandered the halls, your hands stuffed into the pockets of your coat, your breath still thawing from the cold.

Steve Harrington was a few steps behind you, his gaze less on the exhibits and more on you. He wasn’t subtle about it—he rarely was when it came to his feelings. But you’d managed to ignore it for months, chalking up his lingering looks and sweet gestures to Steve just being Steve. Today, though, something felt different. There was a charged warmth between you, one that even the vast, echoing halls of the museum couldn’t dissipate.

“This place is nice,” Steve said, finally breaking the comfortable silence as you entered the Impressionist wing. His voice was soft, reverent even, as if afraid to disturb the peace.

You glanced over your shoulder, smiling at him. “Told you it would be. Thanks for agreeing to come.”

“Yeah, well, it beats sitting at home with a TV dinner,” he teased, though his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You frowned, catching the hint of melancholy in his tone. Christmas Eve had a way of amplifying loneliness, and you knew Steve’s family wasn’t exactly the “let’s gather around the tree” type. “You’re not spending it alone,” you said firmly. “And this place has paintings, history, charm… what’s not to love? I mean, I know you have to put up with me…”

He laughed, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart stutter. “You say that like it’s a bad thing to hang out with you.”

You laughed, shaking your head and bumping your shoulder against his arm. “Come on.”

Steve didn’t reply, but his gaze softened, lingering on you a moment longer than necessary before he turned his attention to the nearest painting.

The museum was nearly empty, save for a handful of other visitors and a few staff members. It made the experience feel more intimate, as if the grand halls and priceless artwork existed solely for the two of you. You wandered from gallery to gallery, pausing every so often to admire a particular piece or read the accompanying placard. Steve trailed beside you, his presence steady and warm, even in the cavernous space.

In the Renaissance wing, you stopped in front of a painting of a winter scene. It depicted a bustling village square, with townsfolk ice skating and children throwing snowballs. The colors were rich, the scene alive with movement and joy.

“That one’s nice,” Steve said, standing close enough that his shoulder brushed yours.

“It is,” you agreed, your voice softer now. “Makes me wish we had more days like that.”

“Like what?”

“Simple ones,” you said, gesturing toward the painting. “Skating on a frozen pond, building snowmen, spending time with people you care about. No chaos, no stress. Just… peace.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, and when you glanced at him, you found him looking at you again.

“Sounds nice,” he said finally, his voice low. “You make it sound really nice.”

Your stomach flipped, but you pushed the feeling aside, turning back to the painting. “It’s just a painting, Steve. Don’t read too much into it.”

He chuckled softly. “Too late.”

The hours passed quickly, the two of you slipping into an easy rhythm. You found yourself relaxing, the weight of the season—and everything left unsaid between you and Steve—falling away as you shared quiet moments and exchanged lighthearted banter. The museum’s festive decorations added to the atmosphere, each twinkling light and garland reminding you that it was, after all, Christmas Eve.

Eventually, you found yourselves in the sculpture garden, an open-air courtyard in the center of the museum. Snow drifted down from the sky, the flakes catching in your hair and on Steve’s coat. The garden was lit by warm golden lights, and the sculptures cast long, intricate shadows on the snow-covered ground. It was breathtaking, the kind of scene you’d expect to find in a holiday card.

“This is amazing,” you said, spinning slowly to take it all in. Your breath formed little puffs in the cold air, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “It’s like a dream.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, though his voice was distracted. When you turned to look at him, you found him watching you again, his expression unreadable.

You felt your cheeks heat under his gaze. “What?”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Nothing. Just… you look happy.”

“I am,” you admitted. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this… light.”

“Good,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You deserve that.”

The air between you shifted then, growing heavier but not uncomfortable. It was as if the snow, the lights, and the golden glow of the courtyard had wrapped around the two of you, drawing you closer together. Steve stepped forward, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his breath visible in the cold.

“Hey,” he said softly, his gaze meeting yours. “I… uh… I’ve been meaning to say something.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Yeah?”

He hesitated, glancing down at the snow before looking back at you. “I know I’m not always the best at this stuff, but I just… I wanted you to know that I… that you mean a lot to me. More than I think you realize.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. “Steve…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he added quickly, his cheeks flushing. “I just… I needed to tell you. Because being here with you, it’s the best Christmas I’ve had in… well, maybe ever.”

For a moment, you couldn’t speak, your heart pounding too loudly in your ears. Then, without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. He froze for half a second before hugging you back, his hold warm and firm, as if he was afraid to let go.

“You’re such an idiot,” you murmured against his shoulder, though your tone was affectionate.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice muffled. “But you love me anyway.”

You laughed softly, pulling back just enough to look at him. His hands lingered on your arms, his touch gentle despite the strength behind it. The golden lights reflected in his eyes, and you felt yourself falling for him all over again.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I do.”

Steve’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to memorize every detail of your face. Then, slowly, he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours.

“Is this… is this okay?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

You nodded, your gloved hands cupping his face as you close the gap between the two of you.

His lips met yours, soft and warm, and for a moment, the world seemed to fall away. The snow, the lights, the sculptures—everything faded until there was only Steve, his kiss gentle but full of unspoken emotion. When he pulled back, his gaze searched yours, his expression equal parts hopeful and nervous.

His smile was radiant, and as he saw nothing but adoration in your eyes, he pulled you back into his arms, holding you close as the snow continued to fall around you. In that moment, wrapped in his warmth and the golden glow of the courtyard, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

And as Christmas Eve gave way to Christmas morning, you couldn’t help but think that this—Steve, the snow, the kiss that had left your heart racing—was the best gift you could have ever asked for.

[pocket-sized-nightmare]

@runwiththerain hello hello! here's your secret santa gift for @/offline-nobody's hermit secret santa event :D

It turns out that when Hermitcraft’s automated mail system goes down, they’re very lucky to have a moth hybrid as a postmaster.

Late December is the worst possible time to discover a system glitch – nearly every Hermit is expecting something, whether it’s a gift from a friend, a request for a shop restock, or a new winter coat from off-world. No one from PET Post had even thought to check in on it until nearly twenty packages had backed up in the post office. Etho and Tango are working to fix it now, but since there’s no indicators of where the problem lies (and yes, Etho did check the whole system for potatoes), it could take all day. That unfortunately leaves Pearl, the winged hybrid with the fastest travel speed of the trio, to manually deliver all the mail herself.

Pearl scans over the post office one more time to make sure she hasn’t missed anything. One more outgoing delivery pops up, to her surprise: a little package hidden in a cabinet, addressed to Gem in Pearl’s own handwriting. Right – she’d packed it up a few days ago but never got the chance to put it in the system. She tucks it safely into her mailbag, then takes out a piece of paper and scribbles a message onto it.

Out delivering packages! Please leave all outgoing mail here. The redstone’s being mean today :( -PearlescentMoon

A few curious pogts peek out of cabinets and wave to Pearl. One climbs up onto the desk and grabs the note in its mouth, then walks away with it to find an envelope.

“Hey!” Pearl laughs, snatching her message back. “That’s not a letter, you nugget! That stays here for the Hermits. I’m gonna be out all day.” She adjusts her cap and slings her heavy mailbag over her shoulder. “Take care of the post office for me!”

The pogt squeaks and waves goodbye. Pearl dashes out the door and takes flight, headed for xB’s mailbox. Zero packages down, twenty to go.

Inside the post office, meanwhile, a few pogts climb up to the desk to join their friend. They squeak an indecipherable conversation. After a moment, one rifles through a drawer to find an envelope, while another runs off and returns with Pearl’s favorite stamp. They tuck Pearl’s message into the envelope and prepare to drop it into a mailbox, but one of the pogts remembers the broken mail system and takes the letter itself instead. It studies the stamp and squeaks a question to its friends, then nods and waddles towards the door with one destination in mind.

The moment the door shuts behind it, Tango walks in to grab a few supplies before returning to his redstone work. The conspiring pogts all scatter and roll around on the desk in an unsuccessful attempt at acting casual. Tango chuckles. “What are you little critters up to?”

They squeak innocently in unison.

He shakes his head. “Not gonna question it.”

----

As GeminiTay settles down to eat dinner, there’s an unexpected knock on her door.

Well, “knock” isn’t quite the right word. It sounds more like someone repeatedly throwing a ball at it, accompanied by a little squeak every time. “Hello?” Gem calls.

No one responds, so Gem puts down her mushroom soup and walks over to the door. The knocking sound continues. “Hold on a sec, I’m coming!”

Gem opens the door. There’s no Hermit there to meet her, but a small, fuzzy ball comes flying through the doorway with a startled squeak instead. It lands, rolls a few blocks, then stumbles to its feet (oh, it’s some kind of creature) and adjusts the flower on its head. 

Gem stares down at it, and it awkwardly waves hello to her. She bursts out laughing and scoops whatever-it-is up in her hands. “What are you doing here?”

It holds out a letter, unaddressed but marked with a clear GeminiTay stamp.

“Oh, do you work for the post office?” Gem asks. “Is this a special delivery?” She takes the letter, puts the pogt down on the floor, then opens the envelope.

Out delivering packages! Please leave all outgoing mail here. The redstone’s being mean today :( -PearlescentMoon

Gem rereads the message, puzzled. “Hey, this isn’t a letter for me! Did you take this from the post office?”

The pogt squeaks and bounces onto Gem’s shoe. She isn’t sure she can translate it right, but she gets the sense it’s trying to say something like yeah, but it’s important and we wanted you to have it. (Either that, or she’s just convinced herself that Pearl’s post office creatures think she’s an important person. She’d like to think it’s the former.)

“Aw, well, thanks for the gift,” Gem says. She picks up the pogt again, prepared to take it back to the post office, when something occurs to her. “Wait, I haven’t seen her fly by yet. How long has she been out for?”

The pogt tilts its head sideways in thought, which only succeeds in making it fall over sideways. It squeaks in surprise, stands back up, and shakes its head as though to say no idea.

Gem glances out the window at the rapidly darkening sky. She always forgets how fast the sunset goes when she isn’t thinking about it. Pearl definitely wouldn’t have gone for a serverwide flight past sundown, especially not without a fast-travel system like a nether hub. She must have been out for hours by now.

Gem chuckles and puts her head in her hands. Only you, Pearl. “Alright, well, I’ve got some cookies in the pantry from yesterday. Maybe I’ll make her some cocoa. Might as well give her a safe place to land when her wings get tired.”

The pogt bounces up and down, probably to mean now you’ve got it!

“I’m not taking you home, though. I don’t even know how you got here.” Gem walks away, headed for the kitchen. “And you can’t eat my food.”

The pogt waddles after her and squeaks.

“Fine,” Gem says. “You can have one cookie.”

----

Nineteen packages down, one to go.

Pearl thought she’d finished all her deliveries by now, but nope, she’s missed another one again. Gem’s parcel fell to the corner of her mailbag, buried under an enormous box addressed to Scar (cat toys for Katy Bee and Mr. Finnegan, judging by the jingling sound) and a shiny silver package for Joel which could only be from Lizzie. She’s not too far from Magic Mountain, luckily, but nightfall has made the air much colder. Not to mention that she’s been flying for hours with an overstuffed mailbag, and her wings haven’t been this tired in ages. Gem’s base might as well be on the other side of the server.

Still, her job is to deliver the mail. And it’s only one package. It’s no big deal. Pearl sighs and turns around in midair. One package to go.

Gem’s lighthouse is a beacon in the distance, slowly coming into view as Pearl soars toward it. Pearl is almost disappointed by the effective lighting – she must look like a wreck after hours of flying around the server, and she certainly doesn’t want that to be illuminated for the world to see. She waves hello to Gem’s lighthouse fish as she finally reaches it, hesitates in midair, then tries to drag herself away from the bright light. Nope. No moth instincts. I have a job to do–

Unfortunately, one moment of shiny-thing distraction is enough to cause a problem. As Pearl leans towards the light, her wings rest at the exact right angle for the wind to catch them and blow her off-course. She tries to right herself, but her back is too sore to do much more than flutter her wings in place. She tumbles into the ocean below with a shriek.

The cold December waters come as a shock – it takes Pearl a moment to get her bearings enough to tread water. She hears a small object land with a splash next to her, but she’s too busy floundering about to pay it much mind. To her surprise, something hooks onto the collar of her shirt and tugs her towards the dock. She looks up to see Gem smirking down at her with a fishing rod in her hand. “Caught a big one!”

Pearl rolls her eyes. She can’t help but laugh. “Evening, Gem.”

Gem reaches out a hand to help Pearl onto the dock. “Heard you had something for me.” She unhooks the rod from Pearl’s shirt.

“Indeed I do!” Pearl checks the clasp on her mailbag, which has thankfully held strong as usual. “Last delivery of the day. Thank goodness.”

Gem links her arm into Pearl’s and drags her towards her house. “Alright, c’mon. You’ve been out for hours.”

“Wasn’t that bad,” Pearl says. “Only twenty packages.”

“Yeah, only twenty. By hand.” Gem leads Pearl to the kitchen table, pulls out a chair, and shoves her into it. “Pearl, you’re insane.”

“You know the slogan. Neither rain or snow, nor death of night.” Pearl shrugs. “Or freezing cold ocean, I guess.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gem takes two cups of cocoa from their perch atop the warm furnace. She puts one in front of Pearl, then sits down herself. “Still. Who’s gonna deliver the mail if you get hypothermia?”

“Aw, is this you worrying about me?”

“Me? Never.” Gem points to the corner. “Oh, look, your friend’s here.”

The runaway pogt waddles over to the table with a tray of cookies balanced atop its flower. Pearl laughs, eyes wide. “How’d it get here? We’re chunks away from the post office.”

“I have no idea. But it delivered me a message. Something about you being out of the office all day.”

“Out of the–” Pearl spots the envelope on the table. “Oh, you nugget, I told you that wasn’t a letter!”

It squeaks at her.

“Oh, okay, fine. You helped.”

It squeaks proudly and curls up in her palm. Pearl laughs. “Nothing but trouble, these little ones. Reminds me of someone.”

“I made you treats!” Gem says indignantly.

“I suppose you did,” Pearl teases back. She lights up and reaches into her mailbag. “Oh, that reminds me! I made you something as well.”

“You did?”

“I did!” Pearl takes the final parcel from her mailbag and presents it to Gem with a flourish.

“I expected a restock request, honestly. You and your pickles. My pickles.” Gem opens the parcel and peeks into it. She looks up at Pearl with a surprised grin. “Oh, my gosh! You made this for me?” 

She takes out the contents of the package: a Christmas card and a little plush shark. The shark’s eyes are the slightest bit wonky, giving it a goofy expression both women can’t help but smile at. “Look at it!”

“To match your ocean theme!” Pearl beams. “It’s made of wool from a couple of messed-up banner patterns. I hope you don’t mind…”

“No, it’s perfect.” Gem hugs the shark close. “I will name him Fish, and he shall be mine forever.”

“Fish! I love it.” Pearl stands and stretches her wings. “I guess I should get back to the post office. The automated system won’t fix itself–” Her communicator buzzes.

<TangoTek> Mail system debuggification complete! 

<TangoTek> A few of those darn pogts got into the redstone

Pearl shows the communicator to her pogt friend, who looks away sheepishly. “You know anything about this?”

It squeaks in dismay and waddles off. Pearl chuckles. “Well, would you look at that?” She sighs. “I should probably still…” She tries to flutter her wings again, but they ache almost too much to move. “I mean…”

Gem laughs. “Yes, Pearl, you can stay the night.”

“Aw, you’re the best.”

“I know.” Gem blows Pearl a kiss.

Pearl smiles. “Y’know, after I get some rest… you think the pogts would make good mailmen? They seem to get around pretty well.”

Gem leans her head on Pearl’s shoulder and laughs. “Only you, Pearl.” Cozy and warm inside Gem’s base, Pearl closes her eyes and smiles. Maybe the postal system can wait just a little bit longer.

[akimoroll]

nightfall.

yoichi nagumo x fem reader—wc 2.2k—part of a series on ao3—college/uni au. fwb. fluff/smut. mdni.

n/a: continuation of this. if you’re an art student reading this, i apologize!! i know nothing about art school (cries) /// this feels like a filler episode tbh kinda boring and uneventful to me at least lmao so sorry in advance

Tutoring sessions with Nagumo are over and you haven't seen him for over two weeks because of exams. He messaged you a few times during evenings for the first few days but other than that, it was complete utter silence from him. You have gotten used to his presence and it did bother you how quiet he has been. But you weren’t the type to text first, you didn’t even like texting at all. He was being distant so you thought, maybe this was his way of showing push.

Meanwhile, Nagumo was busy staying up in the late hours of the night meeting deadlines, and dealing with the weighty pressure and vulnerability of critiques. But other than that, he was pretty much holed up in his room with a dark cloud of stress over his head. He might have even lost a bit of weight too.

“Do you wanna go see a movie with me after midterms?” He asked you last time you saw each other, to which you said yes. Now that exams are over, he hasn’t made contact yet, not that you were eagerly waiting for his message or anything… Of course not. That’s silly, right?

But you do miss him… Maybe a little bit. “Just his face,” you mused, downplaying whatever it was you were feeling.

As you unlocked your phone, you pursed your lips and went to Instagram. You tried searching for his name (and nickname) but couldn’t find anything. As frustration built up, you turned to your roommate who had just entered the room and asked for her help.

His username had 9 underscores as if he didn’t want to be found. But weirdly enough, for a normal college dude, slash frat boy, slash art student that posted normal college stuff, he had a lot of followers. The accounts he followed were mostly girls, but one stood out—a private account with no display photo. 1 follower, 1 following and hundreds of posts.

Who could that be? You were curious for a hot minute but saw a really cute selfie of him and spent a good chunk of time staring at it. Before you knew it, you had burned the next hours making folders and meticulously sorting the pictures you’ve saved, just as you would with your trading cards collection.

///

The gentle knocking from the door startled you from your sleep. The room was already bright and your roommate had left. Glancing at the bright screen of your phone, you winced before getting up. It’s 9 past 7.

As soon as you opened the door, Nagumo rushed in without a word and immediately began kissing you. He was unusually quiet, almost eerily so, while his hands slipped under your shirt and roamed the skin of your back. You couldn’t say a word with the way he was practically eating your face. He seemed much like a man who had been walking for hours in the scorching heat, chasing you like a tall glass of cold water. He was parched.

He led you to your corner of the room and onto your bed. His body hovering over yours, lips not letting you go. Moments later, you were already naked under him. His hands explored places he hadn’t touched before, his tongue teased the most sensitive spots, turning you into a soaked mess.

He kissed you deeply before letting you go, only to flip you on your stomach with ease. The hairs on the skin of your back raised when his lips grazed your nape, gently trailing their way down your spine. Then he slowly inserted a finger and a few moments later, he added another. His fingers knuckles deep inside you.

There was nothing but the sound of your quiet whimpers and the wet sounds of his kisses as he began preparing you for something else, something that might be too much, something you have found yourself anticipating for. You couldn’t help but moan his name.

“Yoichi…”

Hearing this, he paused, leaving you so hot and bothered. As you waited for what’s to come next, you felt movement behind you and heard fabric rustling—he’s slipping out of his boxers.

He began rubbing his tip to your wet folds as he spread your cheeks wide open, smearing and mixing his and your wetness all over, with his fingers digging the flesh of your ass. Everything was happening way too fast. It felt conflicting but you knew deep down you didn’t want him to stop.

Softly, tenderly, he pushed himself in and out of you. He’s fucking you slowly with your name rolling so sweetly on his tongue like honey—again and again and again.

“Look at you… such a good girl.” He cooed, his voice airy with his lips over your ear. His warmth reached the skin of your back, enveloping you as he rested his whole body on top of you with your face buried in the pillow.

“Lift your hips a little...”

“There you go. Just like that.”

“Fuck…you feel so good.”

And he feels so good too. He kept murmuring your name as he fucks you lazily, your eyes rolling back every time he pushes himself balls deep into you. He was making a mess out of you, your juices dripping down on your clean sheets. Suddenly you didn’t care about getting your bed dirty anymore.

One of his hands began snaking towards your tits, giving it a soft squeeze before lifting your face by the jaw, his two fingers coaxing your lips to open.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered before slowly turning your head so you could face him. You kept your eyes closed as you reluctantly opened your mouth, his tattooed fingers forcing you to taste yourself, “See how good you taste?”

“Open your eyes…look at me.” he murmured, giving each of your eyes a cute kiss before reaching down with his other hand, rubbing slow circles on your clit, just enough pressure to make you squirm under him.

Him seeing you so fucked out and breathless so early in the morning made him fuck you a little faster. And then a little harder. Your whimpery sobs became louder as he continued to thrust himself into you from the back.

“You close? You’re squeezing me.”

“I know you missed me. Let’s take our time, hm?”

“Come on, open your eyes.”

“Look at me.”

“Wake up.”

Wake up?

Your eyes shot up, realizing you had fallen asleep while waiting for him at a diner near campus. You agreed to have brunch together when he finally called in the morning.

That’s what you get when you stay up way too late looking at his pictures. But none of that matters now. Bewildered, you mused, “Wet dreams? Here? Of all places?”

“Falling asleep in public is so unlike you. Are you okay?” He smirked, voice laced with teasing as he sat across from you.

You exhaled deeply as you hid your flushed face with your hands. You couldn’t dare to look at him.

He tilted his head to the side, now with concern, he asked, “Looks like you stayed up late last night. I thought exams were over?”

“Yes, it is over,” you responded immediately. With your voice still raspy, you snapped at him, “I fell asleep because…I waited too long.”

He scoffed lightheartedly before leaning closer to you with a smug grin on his face, “Someone’s excited to see me. I’m not even late.”

You looked at him after checking the time. Frowning from grogginess, you asked nicely, “Can you go ahead and order us food? I can’t form a single thought.”

He looked at you for a moment and noticed how your forehead was glistening with your face all red, he asked again, “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get takeout and eat someplace else if you’re not feeling well.”

“I’m fine, Nagumo. Please, just order the food.”

///

You continued eating your meal in complete silence, embarrassment still lingering in your mind. Nagumo, on the other hand, kept glancing at you with concern. Eventually, he asked, “So… Friday, movies, right? Unless you have something else in mind?”

“What? I’m not thinking about anything else,” you retorted after a slight flinch.

He responded with a puzzled expression, trying to figure out your mood, “Okay…? I’ll pick you up at 6?”

“Sure,” you replied way too quickly, voice low as you kept your eyes to your food.

He watched you, observing and wondering why you were being quiet and wouldn’t meet his gaze. You typically spoke too little and had a habit of staring. But you were acting strange, almost defensive, like you were hiding something. Reminiscent of that time when you had a misunderstanding, moments before he kissed you for the first time.

“Hey, be a good girl and quit picking at your food,” He teased, attempting to lift the mood and ease you into talking more.

But “good girl” was all you heard. You abruptly locked eyes as you involuntarily inhaled your food, getting it stuck in your throat. He quickly handed you a drink, worry evident on his face while you uncontrollably coughed.

After chugging the drink to its final drop and slamming the glass on the table with more force than necessary, you inhaled deeply and finally spoke, “Never say that again.”

He narrowed his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips, he asked, “Not say what?”

“That. What you just said.”

“Not…pick at your food?”

“No,” you groaned, opening your mouth just to close it again as your cheeks started to heat up once more. You collected yourself as you continued, “Nevermind.”

He caught your reaction right away. The small smile he was holding turned into a full blown grin, he teased, “Oh, I see.”

“See what?” you retorted with a defensive hiss.

“Nothing,” he breathed deeply and shifted his gaze out the glass window, pausing before speaking again, “You got me worried there. But it looks like your other personality has come out to play today and taught me something new.”

“If you don’t stop bringing that up, I’ll leave right now,” You exclaimed as you reached for your bag.

He snickered and stood up, sliding his food next to yours and took a seat beside you to block you from leaving. He gently nudged his arm against yours, “Oh come on, we just got here.”

You answered him with a mere eye roll and turned away from him to gaze out the window.

“Hey,” He ran his fingers through your hair, twirling at the tips, his voice gentle, “Look at me.”

You quickly turned to his direction to warn him time and time again to stop touching you unexpectedly. However, his lips touched your cheek, making you blush once again. He smirked, enjoying how endearing you are and wanting to continue stirring your flustered state, he whispered, “I missed you.”

You took a deep breath, struggling to suppress the smile that threatened to come out as you spoke up, your voice softer than intended, “Nagumo, I told you not to touch me so suddenly.”

He nodded and continued eating as if nothing happened. Out of curiosity, he asked, “Why were you up so late last night anyway? Thought you have schedules and stuff.”

As you calmed down, you answered honestly, “I was feeling restless.”

He chuckled, “Bet you were thinking of me.”

Your bluntness continued as you went back to eating as well, “Yes, but also, no. I was actually wondering why there are so many underscores in your username. It seems quite inefficient for typing. Also, the topless pics, seriously? Have some decorum. And while we are on the subject of decorum, apart from your friends, you only follow people from the opposite sex. What’s up with that?”

Like always, he was surprised and slightly taken aback by your honesty but the thought of you stalking his socials made him nearly choke on his food. You had always been distant, didn’t ask questions about himself, he was the one constantly reaching out. He had gotten used to you not paying much attention to him, just hanging out with you was enough for him. So hearing everything and you being so blunt about it, made him feel things.

He teased with an accusatory tone, “Oh, so you were stalking me. You could’ve just messaged me and told me you miss me, you know?”

You retorted, “Why would I? That’s exactly what you want me to do.”

He pressed further, grinning, “So you did miss me.”

“I didn’t say that,” you stubbornly denied, your voice sounding firm.

“Why were you looking me up then?” He inquired, his tone laced with intrigue.

You pondered for a good while, carefully choosing the right words before responding, “You need to know your opponent in order to defeat them, correct?”

He smirked, a hint of challenge in his voice as he rested his cheek on his palm, observing you, “This is all just a game to you, hm?”

You mirrored him, speaking calmly, “I could say the same about you.”

He nodded, suppressing a chuckle by smiling, “Well played, but you’re not supposed to show your hand to me.”

You smiled back, “What makes you think I’ve shown you everything?”

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Hobbit) Imagine: Holiday in Erebor

Author's Note: Hello! Here's a snippet of something cozy and cheery I wrote a few years ago and never got around to posting. You can decide who it is at the end that requests you sit beside them!

Additionally, I just wanted to say I wish everyone a Merry Christmas! For me, it's a time to be grateful for loved ones and of course, most of all, the real reason for the season!

Word Count: 708

Warnings: None

Description: You join the Company for a celebratory holiday feast!

Erebor had truly been a sight to behold when you first arrived. The halls were numerous and so vast. Everywhere you looked, there were displays of the dwarves’ handiwork and ingenuity. It was beautiful. You understood why the Company had gone to such great lengths to win it back from Smaug the Terrible.

Once the mountain was reclaimed, it became a home to the dwarves once more. You’d only heard stories about Erebor in the olden days when the halls were filled with bustling trade and friendly chatter. Night after night, your comrades told you of its wonders, but you’d never witnessed it for yourself.

You imagined that it was much like it is now, with the Company settled there and their relatives flooding in- so utterly warm and welcoming.

Especially this time of year. You walked down the dimly-lit hallway, the lovely scent of evergreen trees filling your nostrils as you passed lanterns that were decorated with the branches. The harsh winter weather had ushered in a season of cheer, and the entire kingdom was celebrating. Everywhere you went, there were woven banners of red and green, holly leaves adorning every dwarrowdam’s hair, and warm spiced beverages passed around. Feasts were always merry occasions, but more recently, they had become even more grand with special meats and desserts.

It was spectacular, and you felt so fortunate to have been invited to stay and enjoy it.  You traveled with the Company at the request of Gandalf and became very close with the group, and when Erebor was reclaimed, you were offered a place there. Thorin stepped into his role as the rightful ruler, and Fili and Kili respectively as princes.

As pleased as you were to remain with the Company, there was one in particular that you were glad to be near.  He had become the object of your affection over the course of the journey, and your feelings continued to grow as more time passed. The cheerful, cozy season made you wish you could have him as your own, with all the happy couples that you passed every day and dined with. The longing to have someone to kiss and huddle close to for warmth in the cold weather grew stronger each day

As you approached the dining hall, the chatter that had echoed down the passageway grew louder.  Booming laughter, the clink of goblets, and jingle bells filled your ears.  

You paused just before the doorway to smooth out your red and green gown and check your hair in the nearby reflective gold ornament. You couldn’t help but think of how beautiful you looked, and you hoped that he would think so too. With a deep breath, you stepped into the doorway. The hall was filled with long tables, but there was one table in particular you headed straight for. 

It was the Company’s table, complete with specially-adorned seats for those who had made the hard journey to reclaim Erebor. Thorin sat at the head with Fili and Kili’s chairs on either side.

“There she is!” Bofur announced with a grand gesture and a wide grin. “Why, lass, we were just talking about you!  Wonderin’ when you’d be joining us!”

“Here I am,” you laughed. Dwarves weren’t sticklers for punctuality, so no one took offense to your slightly late arrival. You were met with many smiles and boisterous greetings as you neared the table. 

“Why, don’t you look lovely?” Balin complimented. He smiled kindly from his seat beside Fili.  Dwalin was on his other side, chewing a large bite of roasted meat. “Absolutely lovely, my dear.”

“Thank you, Balin,” you said. “As always, it’s a pleasure to see you all.  How is dinner?”

“Dinner is delicious,” Dwalin piped up after a loud swallow. “But don’t take my word for it, see for y’self.”

You smiled.  “I definitely will.  Everything looks fantastic.” You turned and headed toward the other end of the table where there was an empty chair. Before you had even taken two steps, Balin’s voice rose up.

“Wait, dear. There’s a seat for you up here. A certain someone has requested it.”

Heart thumping wildly in your chest, you halted and glanced over your shoulder to see who it was that made the request.

[misettemisette]

Starting over in Madrid

Hey, I'm back after having my account terminated. I'm starting to repost my fanfic Starting over in Madrid episode by episode. I've done minor corrections, mostly vocabulary, scenario temporality and pictures that weren't working well.

Feel free to read or reread it and gave me your feedback. We can't say it enough but we, writers, love feedback <3

Chapter 1 ➺  A harder job than I thought

Summary : After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players?  1K words TW : None

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I was never really interested in football before being employed at Real Madrid. Of course, I used to watch a few games on TV during the main championships. But I had never intended to work for a football club, least of all in Spain. But here I was, late twenties, speaking a few words of Spanish, entering the Ciudad Real Madrid for day one of my new job as the new official photographer.

Introductions went well. Staff was nice. Work seemed interesting, with quite a lot to do on the creative side. I felt great. My office was located on the second floor on the west side of the building, a bit apart from the training grounds. I took a few minutes to settle in my chair, gazed through the window at the Alfredo di Stefano stadium and saw the tiny silhouettes of the footballers training. My manager, Ana, came to have me introduced to the girls and I quickly grabbed my camera to follow her to the pitch. 

The winter sun, cold but bright, blinded me as I came out. My eyes took a moment to adjust, shouts of trainers and players echoing all around. There were far more people than I expected, making me feel intimidated but Ana didn’t let me time to relax. She talked with some guys to interrupt training and the players slowly came toward us. They gathered around us, some of them still panting when Ana spoke again. 

"Hello everyone, let me introduce you to our new photographer Y/N. But you can call her Nicky as she likes it better." 

"Hi, I never liked my name", I said nervously. 

The girls stared at me, some of them smiling friendly. I couldn’t help but notice their muscular arms and thighs. Strength oozed from their bodies. There were pretty faces among them too. Ana told me the names of each player. The last one, a very tanned girl, was looking away, looking slightly bored. 

"And finally, this is Misa", she said pointing at her. Misa looked at me, her dark eyes resting on my face for just a moment while she quickly waved her hand in a welcoming gesture before she looked away again. She was really pretty and I felt my face grew hot. I was a professional photographer. It was explicitly written in my employment contract that dating the team members was prohibited. I shook away my inappropriate feelings as the introducing part ended.

A few days passed as I settled in my new life. I had found a tiny apartment in Lavapiés. Got everything I needed. I was rather happy to start over. I had quit my toxic ex-girlfriend a few months ago and my very boring previous job. Each day, I went to the pitch to film the team arriving and to take pictures of the footballers training in order to post on the social media. They all seemed nice, though some of them looked bothered to be photographed all the time. Linda, Naomi, Sofie and Hayley clearly enjoyed being in front of the camera while Ivana, Olga and Misa tried to avoid it most of the time. We chatted very little, everyone focused on their respective work. 

***

Then came the day of the big photoshoot for brand-new kits. It was a very busy day. Adidas had designed a specific set with a moss background and real plants around. It was a bit too much for my taste but I didn’t have my word to say as the campaign was managed by the brand. I was assisting the Adidas photographer by giving pose instructions to the girls. I took some shoots too. 

We were shooting for nearly five hours when Misa’s turn came. I couldn’t say I didn’t notice how attractive she was in her new pale purple kit. Her tan skin contrasted sharply with the fabric. She had a piercing on her left nostril I’d never seen before. Her long hair was let down, falling on her broad shoulders. She took her place, clearly used to being a model.

"Misa, face the camera", I said. Her dark eyes crossed mine before she looked straight at the camera and composed a smile. I could tell she was feeling confident, but I wasn’t sure she was really enjoying it. "Switch to profile, please". "Strike a pose". "Now put your gloves on". Misa obediently took pose after pose. 

"Are we done yet?" she asked, looking at me patiently. 

"I think we are thank you. Thanks God you’re the last one !" 

"I find it tiring already, so I can’t imagine how it must be for you." She said, her brows frowning. She walked aside from the set. I started to put away the equipment next to her. "It’s okay, I like my job. Today is just a bit repetitive"

"Are we cool models ?" I looked up at her. Her face had relaxed since the photoshoot ended. A shy smile appeared on her lips as she suddenly seemed to think her question was embarrassing. 

"In fact yes, indeed. Like, as a photographer, there is everything to adjust. When you’re training, you’re moving fast so I have to increase shutter speed. When you’re posing like today, the shutter can be slower but you need good exposure…" My voice trailed off as I took a glimpse of her perplex expression. "Sorry I have never known how to talk about my job. You see, technical aspects play a huge part in photography." 

"Don’t worry, I haven’t a clue of what you are taking about but it actually got me interested." She was smiling frankly now and that made her ever more beautiful. I tried to focus one folding the spotlights back in there bags. "Those lights make you very warm and sweaty" she said. "I’ll go change. See you Nicky." 

“Bye Misa.”

I was feeling both disappointed by her departure and relieved to be able to finish tidying things up more serenely when I heard Misa’s embarrassed voice rise from the backroom. "Hum… please can someone help me?"

I dropped the camera I was packing and went there thinking that fucking day would never end. I suppressed a laugh when I saw Misa struggling with her jersey over her head. The collar was picked up somewhere around her nose. I forced myself to look away from her well shaped abs and the low-cut of her sports bra.

"Misa, it’s Nicky, what’s happening ?" 

"The jersey… in my nose ring. I can’t take it off !"

"Hold still, I’do it."

I slowly came closer to Misa and delicately held the jersey’s collar while looking for where her piercing had gotten stuck. A fabric fiber had indeed been taken inside the small golden ring. I tried hard to concentrate. Her mouth was twitching nervously. I was so close to her face, I could feel her breath. She pursed her luscious lips as I finally removed the string, let out a sigh and took off the jersey. Her eyes met mine again while I took a step back. "Thanks, I thought I’d lose my nose on this one…" 

"You did well to ask for help, you could have hurt yourself." 

"I’m glad it was you and not some random Adidas guy. All my friends are gone by now." 

"Anytime !" I shrugged, feeling hot again. She gathered her clothes and started taking off her shorts. Footballers really weren’t modest. I turned around, ready to leave. I felt I was unable to take anymore glances at Misa’s body parts. "Bye then" I said softy.

"Bye, and Nicky, you definitely have to teach me some photo stuff! I’m serious." I slowly turned back to her. She had already put her trousers and T shirt on. "Yes, sure… after tomorrow’s training if you’d like." 

"Yeah, count on me."

She gathered her stuff, gestured goodbye, and left. 

My job was turning out to be harder than I expected.

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