#and its been their song since then to me. For years now

[jzprncess]

the missing melody ♪

part 2 part 1

pairing : franco colapinto x singer!reader

faceclaim : various people!

summary: With the Grand Prix results in, Y/N returns home inspired, diving back into her music. Meanwhile, Franco, curious about the singer he met, follows her on social media. What begins as casual online exchanges soon hints at a deeper connection.

warnings : some singers do not exist in this au since i might take their songs!

note : MERRY CHRISTMAS!! here is your surprise, i know some have been waiting but ive been in a writing block. dont kill me bc its short! i suck at writing UGHHHHHH

     ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

 williamsracing just posted 

liked by yourusername, username2, and 535,290 others 

williamsracing TEAM 💙  10 POINTS IN BAKU 🔥🔥🔥

An incredible drive by both drivers and we secure P7 and P8. GET IN THERE! 👏  This is only the beginning.

view all comments 

username2 VAMOS VAMOS VAMOS 🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷

username4 this progress of williams is what’s giving me hopes for carlos next year 🥲

username6 🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷

username8 WOWWWW BRAVO 👏🏼👏🏼

username3 COLAPINTO2025 

username5 STANDING OVATION!!! 🔥🔥

username5 y/n was the good luck charm! i’m telling you! 🫵🏼

username7 simply lovely

yourusername grateful to be here and watch the team score some points. it’s amazing to watch, might just have to join for another race soon. thanks again for letting me join in the paddock! 🇦🇷🔥💙

↳williamsracing we’re glad to have you y/n, can’t wait to see you trackside again! wishing you luck on your future endeavors! 💙

↳alex_albon appreciate it! we hope to see you soon!

↳francolapinto glad you could be here! i would love for you to come to another race, let’s make it happen. 💙

↳username5 now i need her to go to another race this season

third pov

As the Grand Prix weekend drew to a close, Y/N felt a bittersweet mix of relief and melancholy. The weekend had been a whirlwind, filled with the excitement of the race and the unexpected attention she had garnered from her appearance. The crowded paddock and constant buzz of conversations had left her mentally drained, but as she walked toward the car that would take her back home, there was a certain peace settling over her.

The world outside the track seemed quieter, more serene. She could hear the faint hum of the engines in the distance as the final laps were being completed, but for her, it was time to leave the chaos behind. The press, the cameras, the questions—all of it faded away as she slid into the front seat, the doors closing softly behind her, sealing her off from the world she had momentarily rejoined.

She pulled out of the paddock, and stared out the window, watching the lights of the city blur past as she made her way back home. The city was still alive, but she felt removed from it, as though she were floating in a different space. Her mind wandered back to the people she had met during the weekend—the 2 william's drivers, the fans, the connections she made. She longed for the solitude of her room, a place where she could decompress and regain the clarity she so desperately sought. 

As the car rounded a corner, she caught a glimpse of the track once more, her heart stirring with a mix of admiration and uncertainty. She wasn’t sure what the future held, but for now, she was content to retreat into her own world and reflect on the moments that had left an imprint on her soul.

franco’s pov 

I stood on the podium, the aftertaste of victory still fresh as my team erupted in celebration. My first points of the season—it wasn’t much, but it felt like a significant step forward. The atmosphere was electric, and for a brief moment, it felt like everything was falling into place. But even with all the cheering and the congratulations, my thoughts kept drifting to something—or rather, someone—that had caught my attention this weekend. Y/N. I didn’t know much about her, but I couldn’t ignore the way she moved through the paddock with such quiet grace. It wasn’t just her fame, though that was undeniable; it was something about her presence. She wasn’t demanding attention, yet everyone seemed to be aware of her, drawn to her in a way that made me curious.

There was something magnetic about her. It wasn’t just the way she looked—it was the way she carried herself. She didn’t seem to be seeking validation from anyone. She wasn’t flashy, but there was an air of confidence, a mystery to her that intrigued me. 

I’d seen her throughout the weekend, but it was when I finally met her that everything clicked. We had a brief conversation with Alex, nothing too elaborate, just a few exchanged words, but it felt different somehow. The way she spoke, the way she listened—it was all so natural, so unassuming. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and yet there was something about her that made me want to know more. Her smile, the subtle warmth in her eyes—it was like she was letting me see just a glimpse of who she was, without revealing too much. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just a casual interaction, but it left me wanting to understand what lay beneath that composed, almost guarded exterior. There was more to her, I was sure of it, and that curiosity lingered long after our conversation ended.

The more I thought about her, the more I found myself wondering what had brought her to this point in her life. Here she was, standing on the fringes of our world—famous, yes, but still somewhat distant, as if she didn’t quite belong to this chaotic universe we all lived in.

I read her Instagram post after the race, since I was already in the car on the grid, when she posted it. She had opened up about the struggles she had been facing, about stepping away from the spotlight and the personal battles she was fighting. It was raw and vulnerable, nothing like the polished image the world saw. It made me realize that the person I had met wasn’t the confident star I had expected, but someone much more complex. She wasn’t just another celebrity navigating the chaos of fame—there was a quiet strength to her, a kind of raw honesty that made me want to understand her even more.

Back in my hotel room later that evening, after everything had quieted down, I found myself scrolling through my phone. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about that brief moment when our eyes had met. I opened Instagram without really thinking about it, my fingers moving almost on autopilot as I searched for her name. Something inside me told me to take this small step. I followed her. There was no reason why I should expect anything from it, but I felt the impulse to reach out in some way, even if it was just this simple action.

I sat back on the bed as I hit “follow,” my heart beating a little faster as I did. I wasn’t expecting her to notice, but something about it felt right. I scrolled through her feed, each post revealing just a little more about who she was. There was an intimacy to her posts, the way she shared pieces of herself without fully letting anyone in. It wasn’t the usual curated perfection I saw from other influencers. Each photo seemed to tell a story, but only if you were paying close attention. I couldn’t help but be intrigued. Maybe it was the beginning of something, or maybe it was just a small, fleeting curiosity that would fade away. But as I followed her, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the start of something that could pull me into her world in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

y/n’s pov 

As I stirred the sauce, my phone dinged from across the kitchen. I wiped my hands on a towel and walked over to check it. When I unlocked the screen, I saw Franco had followed me on Instagram. I paused, staring at the notification for a moment, a little caught off guard. My mind raced as I thought about our brief encounter, and I felt a sudden urge to message him. Taking a deep breath, I opened the app, ready to start typing.

messages

third pov

Y/N stood in her kitchen, wiping down the last of the plates from dinner, the sounds of the quiet house filling the space around her. She had eaten alone tonight, a habit she’d fallen into over the past few months. The familiar hum of the dishwasher was the only noise, but her mind was elsewhere. Franco’s face kept drifting into her thoughts—his easy smile, the way his eyes lit up when they spoke. They’d only met today, briefly, but something about him had stuck with her.

It had been a long day at the Grand Prix, full of excitement and noise, but when their conversation had veered into something personal, something quiet, it had been like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them. She had felt a spark, undeniable and electric, even though she knew he’d be leaving soon. He was on his way to Mexico for the next race, already on the plane when she had sat down to dinner by herself, yet the connection lingered in the back of her mind.

Y/N sighed, reaching for her notebook that rested on the counter. As she flipped through the pages, her fingers brushed over old lyrics, half-finished songs, and abandoned ideas. She hadn’t written anything in weeks—no inspiration, no motivation. But tonight felt different. She had this restless energy swirling inside her, something she couldn’t ignore. She sat down and began to write.

The pen moved quickly, almost without thought. The words felt raw, like they were pouring out of her all at once. She wasn’t sure if it was the memories of the day or the faint pull of something more, but she couldn’t stop herself. The chorus took shape, the melody forming like a whispered secret.

“It’s all in my head / I’ll keep it to myself / I know that you’ll never see it / I’m just looking for a reason..” (the bottom by gracie abrams)

Her mind wandered back to Franco, and she found herself replaying their brief encounter over and over. There was something about him—something real and different from anyone she’d met in a long time. But he was leaving for Mexico, and soon enough, he’d be consumed by the fast-moving world of Formula 1. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever see him again, and the uncertainty gnawed at her.

But still, there was this quiet tug inside her, a feeling she couldn’t shake. Maybe—just maybe—this moment held more than she’d first realized. It was all in her head, she thought, but she couldn’t help but hope for something more.

As she continued to write, her hand moved almost instinctively, the words flowing faster than she could process. It was like the music was the only place that made sense, the only thing that could capture what she couldn’t quite say out loud. She smiled softly as the song began to take shape, feeling that spark of something inside her. It wasn’t finished yet, but there was a sense that this was just the beginning.

The quiet of the house was only interrupted by the soft scratch of Y/N's pen as she wrote, her thoughts wandering to the conversation she’d had earlier with Franco. Her phone suddenly buzzed, and she jumped slightly. Seeing Franco's name on the screen made her hesitate, but she quickly answered, trying to sound calm.

*start of phone call*

“Hello?” she said, her shyness making the greeting almost tentative.

“Hey, it’s Franco,” came his familiar voice, sounding warm and easy. “I just landed in Mexico. How’s your night going?”

Y/N felt a small smile tug at her lips, a slight relief washing over her. “Hi, Franco. It’s going okay... just writing. How about you? How was the flight?”

“It was fine, a bit long, but nothing I can’t handle,” Franco replied, his tone light. “It feels good to be here, though. Getting ready for the weekend.”

Y/N shifted in her seat, her fingers tapping nervously on her notebook. “Yeah, I’m sure it must be a bit overwhelming. But, uh, you’ve done this kind of travel before, right?”

Franco laughed softly, clearly amused. “You could say that. But every new race feels a little different. There’s always something new to learn. What about you? I know you’ve only been to one race, right?”

“Yeah, just today.” Y/N said, a little shy about admitting she was still new to the whole experience. “It was... a lot. But really exciting too. I didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as I did.”

“That’s awesome. What did you think of the atmosphere?” Franco asked, genuinely curious.

Y/N smiled, remembering the energy from the day. “It was wild, in a good way. I didn’t really know what to expect, but the crowd was so into it. It’s different from anything I’ve ever experienced.”

“I can imagine. There’s just something about a race day, huh?” Franco said. “It gets under your skin.”

“Yeah, I think I get that now,” Y/N replied, feeling a little more relaxed as the conversation moved away from the work side of things. “It’s... thrilling. I can see why people love it.”

“So, what did you do after the race? Did you go back hotel?” Franco asked, genuinely interested in how she was spending her time.

Y/N shifted slightly, a little self-conscious. “No, I just came home. I haven't been, um... great with big crowds recently, so I thought I’d unwind for the night. I guess it’s a good thing I like being alone sometimes.”

“I totally get that,” Franco said, his voice softer now, almost like he understood exactly what she meant. “I’m kind of the same way. Traveling and being around people can be... draining.”

Y/N smiled faintly, feeling a little more at ease. “Yeah, exactly. It’s nice to just have a quiet night to yourself.”

There was a pause, and then Franco continued, “What do you usually do when you’re alone? Like, when you’re not writing?”

Y/N hesitated before answering, her fingers gently brushing over the edges of her notebook. “I, uh, watch movies sometimes. Old ones. And I read a lot too. Mostly books that... help me forget everything for a little while.”

Franco’s voice was warm, and she could tell he was trying to keep the conversation light. “I think I’d like some movie recommendations. I’ve been wanting to watch something different, but I don’t know where to start.”

Y/N smiled softly, appreciating how easy the conversation was flowing now. “I could definitely do that. If you like old films, I’d recommend some classic noirs. They’re... atmospheric, but in a cool way.”

“Sounds perfect,” Franco said, clearly interested. “I’ll have to try that when I’m not in race mode.”

“I’ll make a list for you, then,” Y/N replied, her voice lightening a little. “Maybe next time we talk, I can recommend a few more.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Franco said with a gentle laugh. “It’s nice just to talk about something that’s not... the race or the schedule.”

“Yeah, it is,” Y/N said quietly, feeling a strange sense of connection. “I didn’t expect it to be so easy to talk.”

“Me neither,” Franco agreed. “But I’m glad we’re talking.”

Y/N smiled, feeling a little more comfortable with the whole situation. “Me too. It’s... nice. I’m glad you called.”

“Glad I did too. Well, I’ll let you get back to your writing,” Franco said, though his voice didn’t sound ready to hang up. “But we’ll talk soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” Y/N replied softly. “Take care, Franco.”

“You too, Y/N. Talk soon,” he said before hanging up.

Y/N set the phone down, a quiet smile on her face. She didn’t know why she felt so calm after talking to him, but somehow, it felt like the beginning of something she hadn’t expected. A spark had been lit inside her, something she hadn’t felt in a while. Her mind was buzzing, and for the first time in days, she felt truly alive.

She glanced at the clock—still early, though not for long—and something inside her stirred. Without thinking, she grabbed her notebook and walked out of the room, heading down the hall toward her studio. The house was quiet, still, but her mind was racing. As she flipped the lights on in the small room filled with instruments, sound equipment, and all the tools of her trade, it was as if everything clicked into place

The walls, once silent and stifling, now seemed to hum with possibility. She set her notebook down, reached for her laptop, and immediately pulled up her music software. Her fingers hovered over the keys, and within minutes, she was in the zone, the melody flowing almost effortlessly. Ideas she hadn’t known were waiting to be discovered spilled out of her, notes and lyrics coming together like pieces of a puzzle she hadn’t known needed solving.

For hours, she lost herself in the music. The hours seemed to melt away, her focus unwavering as she crafted something new, something personal, something that felt like it was coming from the depths of her soul. She tweaked, arranged, and layered tracks, her mind guided only by the spark Franco had unknowingly ignited. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this inspired.

By the time the sun began to rise, Y/N was still in her studio, headphones on, eyes tired but exhilarated. She hadn’t noticed the time slipping by until she glanced at the clock again. The song wasn’t finished, but it was close. She smiled to herself, realizing that the night had passed without her even thinking about the exhaustion she usually felt. It was as though the music had become the one thing that could make her forget everything else.

She leaned back in her chair, taking a deep breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she was grateful for this new, unexpected source of inspiration. And in the back of her mind, she knew this song was only the beginning.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

taglist: @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey

[coichii]

WHITE CHRISTMAS

—(🎧)—> y/n seeing snow for the first time

pairing - bf!seungmin ♥︎ fem!reader

genre - fluff

word count - 1.2k

warnings - written by a girl who’s had like 3 good snows in her lifetime, this is bad I’m in writers block

series note : hello !! welcome to part seven of my winter series, “winter records of love” where there will be 8 individual short stories for each member :) these stories are based off of songs I deem “winter” feeling ! this story is based off of “White Christmas ” by Bing Crosby. enjoy <3

“It’s seriously freezing.” You shiver, burrying your self into Seungmin and the warm, plaid blanket layed upon both of you.

It’s winter, of course, frost nipping at your nose. On top of that, it was Christmas Eve. Carolers roamed the streets of your neighborhood, knocking on doors and singing their cheery carols.

You loved it. The atmosphere of Christmas always made you feel like a little kid receiving a toy you had on a wishlist for years. Even like a kid sitting on Santa’s lap in one of those crappy mall photoshoot places.

It was magical, but there was one tiny issue that messed with your Christmas ideals.

You had never seen snow before.

It’s hard to believe, but you’ve only ever seen those intricate flurries of soft ice on screen before. It’s been on of your dreams to see it, to play in it, to feel it. All you can hope is that it snows.

It sounds childish, but you don’t care. A snowy Christmas would make the holiday even more cherish-able, which will be hard to top ever since you started dating Seungmin.

Christmas with him was...un describable. He knew how much the season meant to you, and would always do whatever he could to make it enjoyable for you. You loved him for it.

“I can go turn the heat up, baby.” He replies, preparing to stand up. You groan and pull him back down to you, holding on to his shoulders with all your strength.

“Noooo,” you mumble into his chest, pouting as you hear him chuckle. “Don’t leave me. You’re warm. Plus, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

He smiles, rubbing his hand over your hair. He swears you’re always so cute like this, but he’ll never let you hear that.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be right back.” He retaliates, pushing you off of him despite your dismissal, giggling cutely at a soft groan that tumbled out of your lips.

You watch him as he walks to the thermostat and turns it on heat, the bitter cold eventually evening out to a toasty warm as you sigh in content.

He settles back down next to you, snuggling comfortably into your side.

It’s blissful like this; you don’t get much alone time, so this Christmas break with him feels perfect. He’s not working, you’re not studying. It’s amazing.

“You excited for tomorrow?” He asks, voice suddenly soaked with sleep.

“Is that even a question, Minnie?” You giggle, mind wandering off to that warm, home like place you feel whenever the weather gets cold and jingle bells begin to ring.

“I know, I’m just messing with you.” He laughs back, eyes slipping closed and lips parting in a sleep like matter.

“You tired, bubs? Wanna go sleep?” You ask, and Seungmin flushed pink. He always gets so nervous whenever you call him buns, but he doesn’t know why. You’ve been dating for 2 years, he should be used to it by now, but he’s not.

There’s just something about you that always erupts butterflies in his stomach. Maybe it’s the way you sound and feel or look, but it’s something about you that makes him so bashful and shy.

“A-are you sure? I know you wanted to stay up.” His voice is lower now, his words mixed with a yawn. What type of girlfriend would be if you sat here and let him stay up like this.

“Of course I’m sure, min. C’mon let’s go.” You chuckle, climbing out of his warm embrace and standing up, proceeding to help him stand up himself and leading him to the bedroom.

He’s not sure where he got so lucky.

◂—♥︎—▸

“Wake up, baby! It’s Christmas!”

The sun had began to peak its way into your room beyond the shades, the birds chirping and traffic roaring.

Seungmin began to groan, twisting and turning and grabbing onto your waist tightly. He rest his head on your chest, sighing in content before peeling his boba brown eyes open.

“Mhm.” He mumbles. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

He laughs slightly at your excited smile when you leap out of bed to quickly shower. He gets out soon too, body finally acclimated to the new day.

He swiftly opens the blinds, hoping to get some light into the room.

And there, he sees it.

“Y/N!” He shouts, mouthing dropped in shock. You hum back at him, heading peaking out the bathroom. “Baby, it snowed.”

Your heart stops for a while. He’s playing with you, right? He has to be.

“Y-you can’t be serious.” You stumble, walking towards him clad in nothing but a light robe. “H-holy shit.”

You eyes are blinded by the sight, white crystals still fall as the green turf is absolutely filled with snow, children outside already playing and making snowmen.

“Baby! Oh my god we need to go outside! Where’s my coat?” You squeal, practically jumping up and down with excitement and glee.

You’re so overjoyed with happiness you could almost cry. Snow. It’s really, really snow.

“Hold on. I know you’re excited, but shouldn’t you open your gift first?” He ask, tipping his head to side.

“Ughhhh, but it’s snow!” You groan, rolling your eyes and shaking his shoulders with your hands. You look so adorable to him, but he really just wants you to open your damn gift.

“I promise, you can go out immediately after. But please, open your gift first.”

“Ugh.” You sigh, finally giving in. “Fine. I’ll do the gift first but immediately after, it’s snow.”

◂—♥︎—▸

“B-baby. I don’t know what to say. It’s beautiful.”

You open the gift to find a beautiful, heart shaped diamond necklace with Seungmin’s name engraved inside. It was gorgeous, the light blue tint shining, and shimmering with the highlights from the overhead light.

“L-look. I got a matching one too.“ He shyly, mumbles, covering his face with one of his hands and pulling out a matching but smaller necklace from his pocket.

“Seungmin, it’s beautiful. I fucking love you so much.” You say, crashing into him with a tight embrace and snuggling your head into his chest.

“I love you too, baby.” He giggles, becoming flustered at your excited reaction. “ C’mon, Let’s play in this snow.”

◂—♥︎—▸

“Oh my gosh, Seungmin! It’s so fluffy!” You shriek, laying on the snow and pressing it to your face.

“Hold on baby, you’ll catch a cold.” He laughs, moving to sit next to you. He watches as your eyes sparkle with admiration and happiness, heart being warmed by the sight.

“I don’t care. It’s so fluffy And cold and lovely I just love it so much.” You go on, drawing even more laughs from the man beside you.

“Oh baby baby! Let’s make a snowman!” You jump up and down, grabbing a ball of snow and meshing it with others.

“Whatever you want, Y/N.” He goes with the flow, helping you put together pieces of the tiny snowman you created on your front lawn.

He lets you do most of the work, watching with a spark in his eye as yours mirror his.

He loves the side of you, he Loves how childish you can be, How excited and happy you get over the smallest things.

It just makes that birthday present of a ring he has even more special.

[xxnashiraxx]

Pairing: Astarion/f!Durge ◇ Astarion/f!OC (Ofelia)

Word Count: 6,119

Tags/Warnings: Mature (slight spice), Soft Astarion, Fluff

Summary: It's December in Baldur’s Gate and the snow is falling on Act 3 of Ofelia's adventure. After falling ill to a cold that prevents her from spreading the joy of Christmas to her companions, they decide to band together and prepare it in secret as a surprise for her. As they look for decorations, gifts, and a tree, Astarion reflects on his time with her and contemplates whether or not his gift will convey the depth of his true feelings...

divider here!

AO3 | Song Reference: Let it Snow!

Hi everyone!!! My apologies for this trainwreck, I tried my best on little time, but I really wanted to write something sweet for these two, and I owe inspiration for this oneshot to @caffeinatedmunchkin ! Thank you again friend!!! I also tried as far as the elvish, so please bear with me 🙏🏼

Please enjoy- fluff was needed for the season, and I hope everyone has a lovely day if you celebrate!!! ❤️ You do not need to read the main fic to read this one- it's its own little standalone! 💕

“So, you expect us to believe that some jolly old man goes around to every child in your world and delivers gifts on this ‘Christmas Eve’?” Gale's tone, while incredulous, remains cheerful. “That does not seem feasible, given your planet's population.”

“Well, not every child celebrates Christmas, so not all seven billion. But yeah pretty much,” Ofelia’s eyes light with amusement as Gale begins another spiel into logic and probability, causing Astarion to roll his eyes and grumble into the chalice of blood Ofelia had filled for him not but a few minutes ago.

“It's just make-believe!” Ofelia spouts around giggles, her smile bright. “Not real! Something you tell kids so they behave, but the holiday is still the same- parents get their children gifts, blame it on Santa, make cookies and leave milk out for him for his journey, hang stockings on the mantle to see if they get coal if they’re bad or sweets and little toys if they’re good. It's all for fun- I myself most enjoy the snow and decorations.” She sounds wistful as their ragtag group listens. He watches her face twist slightly as if recalling a bad memory, and he pays attention to the warble in her voice when she next speaks.

“I haven't had a real Christmas since I was still young enough to believe… my parents did everything for me, those first nine years. It was always so magical… pazole, tamales, candy, gifts- I wished they wouldn't have, but they'd do everything, take extra shifts just so there was something under the tree for me… I miss them this time of year. Just a little bit extra.” No longer afraid of the warmth that blooms in his chest, he reaches for her and when his hand rests over her shoulder she turns to him and quickly wipes the moisture from the corner of her eye. Her cheeks crease with an appreciative smile and she squeezes his hand in thanks as the others look around.

“Would you want to celebrate it here?” Karlach asks, setting her cleaned plate off to the side on one of the many little tables littered around their common space in the Elfsong.

“You guys want to?” Ofelia asks with a soft huff, hefty emotion washing from her voice amid the sweet hope that spreads over her face.

“We may not have Santa, but why not? The spirit of gift giving and love isn’t foreign here,” Gale smiles, patting Ofelia’s opposite shoulder.

“Okay… yeah! We’ll have to find a tree, and ornaments, and gift wrapping of some kind- paper will do! Stockings to hang over the fire for each of us… day after tomorrow!” Her eyes brighten at each syllable, and for all the teasing he’d love to utter, he can’t find it in himself to poke when this is the happiest she’s looked since they’d arrived in Baldur’s Gate.

And gods, if it isn’t the happiest he’s been, as well. Since Cazador fell. They still have the brain and two of the Dead Three's chosen left, but curse it all to the hells. Right now perhaps they can indulge in some respite from it all. The calm before the storm.

They move through the rest of the day restocking their supplies, tracking down various needs, and chasing some loose ends. They discover more of Orin’s handiwork littered throughout the city, much to Ofelia’s chagrin, but decide to turn in early in the hopes of getting started on their decorating. Unfortunately, fate has other plans.

“I’m afraid healing magic really only works on injuries and the like- I’m sorry, Ofelia. I know how much this meant to you… perhaps we can have it later in the week?” Shadowheart strokes the human’s face softly, her pale hand meeting russet, clammy skin. Ofelia nods, eyes shifting to a corner of the room as the half-elf leaves and shoots Astarion a pitying frown. When the door shuts, he sinks down beside her and strokes the hair off her cheeks and forehead, fever hot against his cold undead hands.

“This sucks…” She mutters, cheeks ruddy with heat as her body fights against an infection they have no hope of combatting with anything but time and herbs. Already, Jaheira had mixed what little items she had into a concoction Ofelia had knocked back minutes ago, and though a bit of color has returned to her lips, she’s not exactly the picture of good health.

“I’m sorry, darling,” He murmurs, resting the back of his hand against her cheek. He knows she likes it when he does, and she typically runs hot, but this is something else entirely and it pulls at his unbeating heart.

“No, it’s okay… it’s been so long since I’ve tried to decorate, but I did try last year- look.” She strains to her right to grab the object that always manages to mystify him and she starts to scroll through the little frozen pictures on her device before holding some up to him. “I got this really stupid fake tiny tree and I put all those little things on it, got some tinsel and hung it up around the doors and windows.” He peers down at the small room she’d once called home- bright metallic garlands trimming the entryways with twinkling lights adorning the small tree that sits on a table in the center of it. His lips tick up at the corners as he sees her in the next photo, bright red painted lips and golden eyelids, some terribly gaudy red and green jumper covering her chest.

“Beautiful, and loud. As always,” She rolls her eyes at his attempt to poke fun, leaning down more fully onto his right elbow as she tucks herself closer to him.

“I wanted to get a big one this time… really show you guys what it looks like, though I’m not sure what the hell I’d do about the bulbs, or lights, or star on top…” She smiles up at him and he feels his chest twinge with guilt. Of course she’d gone and gotten herself sick somehow…

“There’s… always next year,” He says around the strange doubt in his mind. It’s nothing but disbelief- disbelief that she’s with him at all. That she keeps telling him she loves him. That she keeps promising they’ll defeat the brain and get rid of Orin and Gortash and be able to breathe once it’s all over… together. Sometimes the incredulity of it all still catches him off guard.

“You’re such a big softie, really,” He huffs a laugh, reaching down to pinch one of her cheeks before pressing a terse kiss to the crown of her head.

“And the mistletoe, gods, can’t forget the mistletoe!” She groans, pressing a hand over her eyes as she collapses into the pillows.

“Mistletoe?” He questions. She sighs, spreading her fingers enough so that one eye peeps up at him.

“It’s silly, but you hang it up over a doorway- it’s got these spiky green leaves and cute red berries on it- and if you pass under it with someone else you have to kiss. It’s just the rules,” He smiles, lost amid her explanation though enamored by the wonder in her voice as she speaks. “I've never been kissed under the mistletoe, you know…”

“Hmm, you haven't? Seems we'll have to change that in the future.” She giggles under the kiss he presses to her forehead, careful and full of promise. When he stands he strokes her cheek once more before adjusting the blankets.

“Get some rest, I’ll bring back some soup in a little while.” He whispers, taking her device from her to set back onto the nightstand. She pouts up at him, curiosity in her gaze, and he finishes tucking her in. “I’ll be back, promise,”

Once out in the main room, he finds the rest of his travelling companions speaking in hushed voices around the fireplace, Scratch pacing near Astarion’s feet. The dog quickly ducks in before Astarion gets the door shut, and he smirks knowing Ofelia will at least have some company before he returns to bed. Nearly every morning that mutt’s laying between them or with half his body draped over her legs. She doesn’t seem to mind, and he’s starting to grow accustomed to the beast as well, much to his disdain…

“Vampire- what are we doing about this Christmas?” Lae’zel demands as soon as he’s within a few feet of them. He simpers and sits on a lush ottoman, draping one leg over the other as he accepts a glass of wine from Gale.

“Gods, Lae’zel. We’ve only been travelling together for the last few months, I’d expect you’d have remembered my name by now.” His sly remark is met with the githyanki’s signature Tchk! before Shadowheart grins.

“Now, now, try to get along you two. Your mediator isn’t here,” The half-elf snickers, and Astarion sighs, waving a hand towards the others.

“So, what were you all murmuring about before I came out here? I’m assuming it has something to do with dear Lae’zel’s questioning?” He takes a sip of the wine- an expensive sort that flows easily down his throat- and casts his eyes amongst the others as he watches them exchange nods.

“We want to put it on anyway,” Gale explains, the dark liquor in his glass catching the light of the fire. “She spoke so fondly of it this morning, and to get sick now… it isn’t fair.” Astarion hums, pondering the silence that settles over them once Gale is finished.

He’d been of a similar mind as she’d shown him her pictures- it’d be no easy task to find a tree, especially with them being in the heart of the Gate. Then there was the tinsel he’d seen… they’d perhaps be able to find something like that in the city, the baubles…

“My, my, it’s odd being amongst you all once you actually experience an intelligent thought.” Their murmurs of disbelief and annoyance fuel the smirk that spreads over his lips as he waves a hand “I’ve been snooping through her photos and I’ve got some references we can likely use, though wrestling her away from the damn thing will be a feat in and of itself.” Astarion grumbles around another swig.

“Leave that to me,” Shadowheart assures, clapping her hands together once. “I’ll run her a bath in the morning and make sure she stays in it for a few hours. To ‘leech the toxins’ so to speak. It isn’t as if she’s well versed to our healing methods to know I’m making it up,” Astarion nods, pondering, as the others chime in.

“The tree… we won’t be able to sneak that into the city,” Wyll laments, forefinger stroking over the fine hairs on his face.

“If you were able to secure a sapling, I’m sure I’d be able to encourage it to grow quickly enough.” Halsin adds, earning a nod from the Blade.

“I’ll help with that as well,” Jaheira offers, smile on her softly lined face.

“What about the decorations?” Minthara asks, frowning.

“We’ll figure something out- I’m sure there are plenty of merchants with trinkets and baubles around- Sundries may also have something. We should ask Rolan and his siblings, as well. I seem to remember that Lia had some dolls and things made for the children once they got to the city.” Astarion nods at Gale’s words, contemplating.

“And do not forget gifts for her,” Astarion murmurs crossly, eyes flashing around the room. “At least have the common sense to wrap them first,”

“Course not,” Karlach grins a wide, toothy smile, the likes of which sets his teeth on edge. He'll never let on that it does somewhat please him, however. “We'll get gifts for Ofelia and each other!”

They scatter to their personal rooms or beds, plan worked out in the dim candlelight and hearth as if they’re a secret society. He crawls into bed with his lover, her’s and Scratch’s soft snores filling the room much to his amusement. He checks her temperature, sigh soft on his lips as he rests back against the pillows when he finds it unchanged.

As he lays in bed, his mind spins with the possibilities of all the gifts he could possibly get her- if it were up to him, he’d likely not get one at all. Perhaps steal something.

Images of her adorned with pretty scarlet jewels and glistening pearls flood his vision, though something about jewelry feels almost cold and distant- too obvious a choice. Or possibly even too meaningful, something he isn’t ready for…

No… despite her expect-nothing nature, he’d like to at least try to make this sentimental and meaningful. It could be their last celebration, after all, and gods does he care for her too much not to indulge this simple, saccharine wish. He’ll need to put in the effort- just as she puts in the effort to make him feel cared for each day. He wouldn’t be where he is now without her… without her kindness. It’s a blessing he tries not to take for granted, though he does slip up from time to time. He cannot make that mistake now.

He rises from the bed, trancing left for later, as he pulls some items out of his pack and retrieves a tool kit from the main stock supplies. He’s not sure if he’ll be any good at this, but he doesn’t trust someone else to do the job.

***

“I feel better this morning, I swear…” Ofelia grumbles as Astarion kisses her awake. For the umpteenth time, she thanks the gods that he can’t catch her cold. It’s nice to indulge in a tender kiss first thing, though she’s sure she looks positively awful. Pale skin, scarlet cheeks, sweaty and clammy. She huffs a laugh and pushes him away, making to sit up and use the restroom, but her vision tilts and she stays seated, clutching her head.

“You feel better, hmm?” He trills softly, last syllable enunciated with a haughty laugh. Smug bastard.

“I swear, if I didn’t know better I’d say you’re actually enjoying this.” He stands above her, back of his hand pressing against her forehead, and she lets out a soft moan at the relief. The heat behind her eyelids slowly recedes beneath his touch, and she clutches his hand to hold it still as he hums quietly.

“Well, you do push yourself far too much, darling. Though your pain is something I do not take pleasure in, under these circumstances at least,” She rolls her eyes at the smirk over his lips, longing curling low in her belly in spite of the state of her body.

“Yeah well, you and me both.” She sighs, kissing the back of his hand, and he stoops down to place one of his over her forehead.

“I have some errands to run with Gale of all people- Shadowheart volunteered to stay with you, said she would like to try some kind of healing bath? Silly in my opinion, but who am I to question a cleric’s healing skills?” She groans, lying back on the mattress to stare at the ceiling. She’d really wanted to see if she could convince them to let her go out and find decorations, at least put them up… but it’s not looking probable. That and she’d lied about feeling better to worm her way out of staying in today.

“Ughhhhh,” Her long drawn out groan pulls a light chuckle from the elf and she reaches up to pull him down, knee between her thighs on the spare bit of mattress available, hands at either side of her head. She wraps her arms around his torso and clings to him, trying to absorb as much of him as possible before he leaves for the day.

“I’ll be back later, just relax and enjoy your bath. Maybe there'll be a reward in it for you,” She sighs into his neck, pressing a hot kiss to his skin fueled by the promise of his words, and she smiles when his muscles stiffen. “Patience, dear,” He murmurs as he pulls away and she squeezes him one last time before letting go. There’s a knock at their door and Shadowheart appears, arms laden with towels and supplies. Ofelia smiles forlornly at her, her own far too empty in Astarion’s absence.

She doesn’t notice as she’s ushered into the washroom Astarion’s quick swipe of her phone off the nightstand, or his soft smile in her direction. She doesn’t see that smile widen into a pleased grin as his fingers snake around the gift in his pocket, clutching it with a light squeeze.

***

“Do you think she’ll like it in the morning?” Gale asks Astarion softly, the fruits of their labor casting the main room in a festive glow. Somehow, he’d been able to obtain a lighting spell scroll- something Rolan had insisted upon them not paying for once he’d heard it was for Ofelia’s benefit. Astarion had rolled his eyes- that tiefling wizard ever hopelessly infatuated despite Ofelia’s vehement denial- and they’d stopped for some books as Gale’s gift to her before Astarion had found something for the man as well. His eyes also caught on a crystal carved into the shape of a crescent moon for Shadowheart, and upon realizing his gaze was tracking items for his companions, promptly huffed in annoyance. He’d grabbed the item anyway.

“I think a twig in the corner with lights on it would send her into a fit, but this is much better.” Astarion sighs, thanking the help from the Midwinter celebrations going on around the city for the garlands of pine and the berries that now hang in the frame of every doorway. It’s not as gaudy or brightly colored as the decorations in her apartment from the photos he’d shown them all this morning, but it’ll do. Even he’s feeling a bit of wonder gazing at the lovely spruce the two druids in their group had spent nurturing, as well as cladding in brightly colored glass sphere’s Karlach procured from a friend she’d known before she’d been cast into Avernus.

Presents wrapped in paper of varying colors sit beneath the full branches, a blanket protecting them from the cold floor as Scratch paws restlessly at a long, stick shaped present wrapped in blue paper with his name penned gracefully across its front. Astarion smirks- she’ll get a kick out of that one.

“Great job, Fangs. I almost forget you don’t have a functioning heart sometimes.” Karlach’s teary voice scrapes against his nerves and he sneers, shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t go spreading that around,” They poke fun at him some more, and thankfully he’s saved by Minthara’s short temper as she demands they all get to bed. It’s almost midnight and she’s not missing a stop from the old geezer- much to his amusement. He just barely manages to duck into his room before they dissolve into a debate about whether or not she’d paid attention to Ofelia’s story, shutting it with a soft click as he stalks over to the bed, shedding clothes on the way.

He hears even breathing- her airways finally starting to clear- and just as he slips beneath the sheets he nearly yelps.

“Hiding from me all day- what, I’m sick and you’re out there looking for a replacement after I wither away?” Her tone is playful and he smirks, admiring the color returning to her cheeks and the brightness of her eyes beneath the light of the full moon. Beneath him.

“Hmm, yes, I was shopping for a new lover today. Pity they all didn’t seem to match your prowess at being irritating. And none of them had these- seems I’m doomed to solitude.” His hands cup her breasts, separated from him by the thin layer of her cotton shirt, and she rolls her eyes and pouts.

“All you’d miss are my tits and my attitude. Rude,” A smile at the corner of her lips betrays her and he grins, fangy and wide, before claiming that smile with a kiss. “Missed you…” She hums, arms winding around his waist, and he matches the sound with sincerity, finding that his day while busy was severely lacking her presence. A travesty, indeed.

“Your fever’s gone,” He mumbles, enjoying the taste of her mouth and the way her hips slightly buck into his own, the hands still firmly anchored to her chest kneading softly. She sighs, baring her throat, and it’s all he can do to not sink his teeth in. Just a bit more recovery, and he’ll indulge in her blood again. He’s holding over with animals in the meantime.

“Mmm, whatever was in that bath made me feel a lot better. And whatever the hell concoction Jaheira made me drink earlier, too- tasted awful but I think it helped.” Her eyes find him and he brushes the hair from her face, slowly sinking onto his side and off of her.

“Good, perhaps we can get back on schedule tomorrow since you’ll be done lazing about.” She scowls and smacks his arm away before yanking the sheets up beneath her chin.

“And I was going to offer you my mouth- jerk.”

“I’ll still take it.”

“Haha. Goodnight.” He smirks and presses a kiss to her lips before lying back, eyes tracking over the beams on the ceiling as she snuggles up close and rests her head over his bicep.

“Goodnight, love.” He whispers, heart tethered to the small gift he intends to give her tomorrow, hope brimming at the fringes of his mind as he pictures her opening it.

***

“Astarion! It’s snowing look, look, wake up!” He does with a start as her hands shake his shoulders, startled out of the trance and back into the real world. For once, his reverie was clouded in visions of her and not nightmarish memories, and as he opens his eyes he yawns.

“It’s been snowing the last couple of days,” He murmurs, blinking the sleep from his eyes as he rises and lets her drag him to the window.

“Yeah, but this one’s stuck,” Her grin is nearly contagious and he fights back the compulsion to instead press his cold nose to the back of her neck as he pulls her into his arms, hands resting over her belly.

“It’s cold, white, a pain to deal with… I’m not sure what you’re so excited about.” He mouths lazily at her pulse point, delighted as her heart beat speeds up, and she laughs.

“You realize you’ve just described yourself, right?” His lips idle over her skin and with an annoyed sigh he bites enough to leave the impression of his teeth but not pierce, earning a satisfying gasp of surprise from her.

“Get dressed, I think you can leave quarantine for breakfast, today,” He knows the plan- pretends that the routine is back to normal. She slips from his arms and goes to her pile of clothing- gods, is she messy- and pulls out some comfortable pants and flashes him a look.

“Get out, I’m going to change.” She demands and he scoffs.

“I’ve seen you naked more times than I can remember, why can’t I stay?” He plays the part of mock dissatisfaction, though he’s silently pleased. It’ll give him an opportunity to check and make sure the dullards outside are ready.

“Just- out!” He huffs, pulling on a pair of pants before making for the door. His tadpole seeks Gale’s, and upon confirming that they’re aware it’s just Astarion exiting the room, he slips out and closes the door behind him.

“She almost ready?” Wyll whispers, tweaking some of the garlands over the mantle as Lae’zel places little rocks in each sock. She’d been far too amused at the prospect of coal for naughty behavior, and had been adamant that none of them deserved candy and would all get a piece each to keep them in perspective. He has to admit, it is a little amusing.

“Getting dressed- should be any moment-” Just as the word leaves his mouth, the door behind him opens and he steps to the side with his heart in his throat.

She’s completely silent, hair brushed into soft waves laying down her back, proper attire donning her body save for the slippers on her feet, and they all hold their breath as her gaze sweeps over the room.

“Hu-huh…?” She mumbles, breath catching, and he watches intently as moisture begins to bead in the corners of her eyes. They all exchange glances, frozen in anticipation, before her hands cover her mouth and she starts to sob. “You guys? Are you serious?”

“Merry Christmas!” Most of them chant- Astarion forgets, Minthara’s nose is buried in a fragrant chardonnay but she tilts the glass in acknowledgement- and they all rush her before he has a chance to dodge them. He’s swept up in Karlach’s large wingspan as she tucks them together and squeezes until white blotches dot his vision, yet the delight from Ofelia keeps him from complaining too loudly about it. Mostly.

She turns to him between embraces, eyes round and soft, and his chest goes tight as he offers her a smile reserved for no other but her. It’s sweet when she returns it- steals the breath he doesn’t need from his lungs, and when she goes to pull him in she clings to him and whispers little reverent ‘I love you’s into his ear as if he’d hung the moon itself. Pride and affection blooms within, and he presses kisses to the side of her head where the others can’t see, though he wouldn’t mind if they did. He’s long past the notion of hiding his feelings for her. From himself or otherwise.

They push her into the best seat- one the others usually fight over- and Karlach excitedly pulls gifts from the pile to start passing around. Astarion’s gift to her is tucked behind the tree and hidden- saving the best for last. Hopefully. No, he’s confident.

Ofelia laughs at the coal in the sock, munches on fudge from the bakery near the entrance to the upper city, enjoys the books Gale’s gifted her and the plush dog that Lia had sewn and stuffed. She remarks about the lights, face brighter than he’s ever seen it, and forces Minthara into a tight hug and kiss on her plum cheeks as Ofelia clutches the necklace adorned with a single ruby charm and spider etched into its stone. The drow protests and growls in annoyance, but it’s all really just for show. Once turned away, she smiles into her cup and quickly clears her throat afterward.

They all offer her small trinkets or treats, and he’s content to just sit and watch, but he’s swept up by the spirit of it all as he opens small packages with his name on it. A silver pocket watch from Shadowheart, a silken kerchief from Wyll, a new scabbard for his dagger in dark leather from Lae’zel. He’d not expected anything, even vehemently enunciated that this is for her, not him, but despite his claims it seems no one listened to him. What else is new?

“That’s it!” Karlach proclaims from beside the tree, tossing candy and pastries in her mouth by the fistful as the others sip on warm beverages or partake in alcohol around the heat of the fire. His eyes go to the frosted window, the entire city covered in a blanket of white. He decides, for the first time, that it looks much better this way.

“You didn’t get anything for Ofelia?” Gale asks, and Astarion’s hackles raise as he feels the ire rise and claim the atmosphere.

“I saved the best for last,” He stands with a flourish, calming the mood before his head ends up on a pike. “Besides, who went to all this trouble?”

“Don’t take all the credit!” Shadowheart snaps and he smiles as he turns his back to them, going behind the tree to pluck his gift from beneath an alcove in the wall. His eyes linger over shiny red paper- this, at least, he'd stolen. For a moment, he hesitates. His fingers wrap around it, her name glaring back, and he wonders if this will be good enough. He'd seen everyone's carefully thought out gifts, hells, had even managed to hit the nail on its head a few times for the others. But Ofelia? She's the one he needs to get right. Above all else, he can't fail.

He steels himself and turns, each step towards her smiling face making him question the object in his outstretched hand, and when she takes it he stands stiff and still- making no move to breathe or blink or talk. She gingerly unwraps it at the seams, her pulse racing in his ears as she continues to pry back the paper, and he watches her stop as a soft breath vacates her lungs.

“Star…” It feels as if a century passes before his eyes when she finally speaks, pulling the dagger from the paper to hold up and admire. The metal flashes, light glancing off the engraving near the hilt- one she speaks in hushed tones as if in prayer.

“Nin anor,” Her lips shape around the elegant script as if she's painting it in the air, and once it's hanging around them he knows it's right. Knows it's right in the way she looks at him, in the way the sun, through a break in the clouds, casts a golden glow around her. It breaks on her skin and sinks in, frames her like it did that day in the sand, that day he'd first tasted freedom. The first day he'd met her and had heard her heart quicken beneath the sharp edge of his blade- the blade she now cradles in her hands.

Purpose, like a compulsion, stole his mind the moment chisel met steel. Illuminated by candles, he'd carved in elvish the words he's said to her over and over, again and again. Against her lips as he makes love to her, into the crown of her head as he pulls her into an embrace. Softly, against her forearm as she returned to herself enough to let go of his neck and fight the urge…

“My sun…” He breathes back, and she's out of the chair faster than he can blink. With a laugh that's no more than a huff, he wraps his arms around her and squeezes back, smiles as she laughs and sniffles and sighs.

“I love you,” It's quiet against his ear, and a barely perceptible shiver trembles through his limbs in reply. He'd been worried for nothing, and that's cemented further when she pulls back and the grin on her face renders him speechless.

“A knife? You got her a knife?” Karlach asks, bewildered, and the tension in his limbs falls away when Ofelia looks at him and laughs. This time, he doesn't fight the impulse to join her and it's freeing and juvenile, but worth the joy it brings.

***

“It's the one he threatened me with when we first met,” Ofelia smiles as she finishes off her plate of roast meats, fresh greens and potatoes. She pushes it towards the center of the table, leaning back in the chair as she admires the way the fire looks as it dances in his crimson eyes. He's beautiful, and her heart slams into her ribs like it's trying to break free- that look he gives her never failing to stir an ache in her chest that feels like it consumes just as much as it grows.

“Hmmm… and how is that romantic?” Gale asks around the cookie in his mouth. Ofelia chuckles at his muffled words, about to speak when Minthara beats her to it.

“Is it not provocative to feel the sting of your lover's blade against your skin? The dance between pleasure and pain, the testament of your trust in them not to supply too much pressure lest they end your life?” Gale swallows thickly, stiffening when the drow places her hand on his arm. “If you do not understand, I will show you tonight, wizard.”

Their group laughs, partaking in drinks that almost remind Ofelia of home. Something that tastes like hot chocolate fills her belly as Astarion holds her close, swaying softly to the music that pours from Ofelia's speaker- an old favorite.

“Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow,” She murmurs against his shoulder, echoing the melody as he squeezes her hips.

“You liked your gift?” His voice is quiet- almost shy. Her arms circle him tighter, letting him guide her through the room as their companions slowly start to filter off to bed. The entire day had been like a dream- a perfect, beautiful reprieve from pain or worry. Something rare and sweet- sorely missed in the years since and filling the empty hole in her heart with so much that it almost hurts to contain. Family. Love.

“I'll cherish it forever, Star,” She smiles, pulling away to stroke her fingers over his cheek. It's cool beneath them, and his smile is relaxed as it spreads over his face. She bumps the door frame to their room with a soft laugh and his gaze lifts up above her head, causing her to redirect hers and stop almost disbelievingly over green leaves and white berries.

“There weren't any red,” He hums softly, but her throat is dry and her ears are filled with cotton when she looks back at him. Moonlight turns his hair to silver and his skin to marble, and as she looks at him and watches him lean closer, she's not sure if she'll ever deserve the affection he now presses to her lips.

Hands tangle in her long hair, chest to chest, the taste of wine on his tongue- her stomach clenches in fear of the future, of losing it all, of making a mistake or failing to free them from the brain. All of it looms like a dark cloud, trying to swallow her whole, but then he's pushing them into the room, shutting their door and latching it. He's driving her back, legs folding until she's forced to collapse onto the mattress, heat pooling in her belly low and needy when he goes to push her sweater up over her head.

“I feel bad I didn't get anyone else a gift,” She whispers and he snorts, discarding his shirt onto the floor as he starts to untie the shirt barring him from further access.

“Anyone else? What did you get me?” She laughs when he stops, frozen at the sight beneath her clothes.

“I got these a few days ago… was going to at least do this since I couldn't get presents or decorate.” His irises narrow into thin lines between the enlarging of his pupils, gaze dragging down her form as he tugs her pants down and off. Ribbons and lace, scarlet and black, cradle her breasts and expose the underside of them while big red bows conceal her nipples. Her underwear leaves nothing to the imagination, either, and his lips part around a raw hum of appreciation when he discovers with his eyes the way the fabric conveniently vanishes beneath the waistband.

“Gods…” It's brittle and needy and she smiles wickedly when his clothes fall to the floor.

“Unwrap me?” She whispers.

“Yes,” He breathes.

She laughs as his fingers find give on the bows and he pulls them apart, mouth chasing his touch as he pushes her thighs back and sinks inside. She sobs his name as he sets a feverish pace, mind nothing but foggy desire and heady affection. Affection for him, for this, for them. She clings to him like her life depends on it, canting her hips in time with his, every sensation as intense and lovely like she's experiencing it for the first time.

She leans in and kisses his ear, revels in the shivers that shake through his body when she tightens her grip. They're teetering over the edge, now- drawing to a close. But even so, she knows it won't be the end. Not when she's right where she's supposed to be.

Like the phantoms of quivering tree limbs, the warmth of the sand beneath her body, the flash of a blade while rubies danced in her vision she feels him. Feels him in every pore, every beat of her heart as he meets her eyes and opens his mouth to speak. Soft and full of promises they never knew were made that day on the beach.

“Nin anor,”

[anniebeemine]

Last Christmas- s.r. x reader

wham! fucks me up every year with this song.

warnings: alcohol consumption, angst themes but a happy ending

The snow was falling gently outside, blanketing the city in a layer of pristine white. Inside Penelope Garcia’s apartment, the atmosphere was warm and festive, the air filled with the scent of pine and cinnamon, and the sound of cheerful Christmas music playing in the background. Laughter and conversation filled the room, but amidst the holiday cheer, you found yourself standing by the fireplace, nursing a glass of mulled wine and trying your best to blend into the background.

It had been a year since you’d last stood in this very room, surrounded by the same familiar faces, all of whom were blissfully unaware of the turmoil churning inside you. It was Penelope’s annual Christmas party, a tradition that had once been the highlight of your holiday season. But now, it was a painful reminder of everything that had changed.

A year ago, you had been standing in this very spot, hand in hand with Spencer Reid, your heart full of love and hope for the future. But that future had unraveled with startling speed. Last Christmas, after everyone had left and the lights had been turned off, you and Spencer had given yourselves an ultimatum. The pressure of your demanding jobs, the strain of balancing a relationship amidst the chaos of the BAU, had finally taken its toll. And so, on December 26th, you had packed your things and moved out of the apartment you’d shared, leaving behind the life you’d built together. The next day, you’d requested a transfer to a different department, unable to face the prospect of seeing him every day at work.

Now, as you stood at Penelope’s party, watching your friends laugh and enjoy themselves, you felt a pang of sadness. You hadn’t expected to feel so out of place, so disconnected from the people you’d once considered family. But then again, you hadn’t expected to see Spencer here either.

He was across the room, standing near the Christmas tree, his tall frame partially obscured by the branches heavy with ornaments. He looked much the same as he had a year ago, his hair a little longer, his suit a little more worn, but still the same Spencer. The sight of him sent a jolt of longing through you, a reminder of how much you had missed him. But that longing was quickly followed by a wave of guilt and regret, memories of harsh words spoken in anger, of nights spent apart even when you were physically together.

You tried to focus on the conversation happening around you, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Spencer, to the way he had looked at you when you walked in, his eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place. It was clear he hadn’t expected to see you either.

“Hey, you okay?”

You blinked and turned to see JJ standing beside you, a concerned look on her face. You forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… lost in thought.”

JJ didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she handed you a fresh glass of wine and nudged you playfully. “You know, it’s a party. You’re allowed to have fun.”

“I know,” you said, taking a sip of the wine. “I’m just… adjusting.”

JJ nodded, understanding flashing in her eyes. “It’s been a tough year for all of us,” she said quietly. “But it’s good to see you here. We’ve missed you.”

You smiled, genuinely this time. “I’ve missed you guys too.”

JJ squeezed your arm and then excused herself to go check on Henry, leaving you alone once again. You glanced over at the tree and found that Spencer was no longer there. Your heart skipped a beat as you scanned the room, searching for him.

You spotted him near the window, his back to the party as he gazed out at the falling snow. For a moment, you considered going over to him, breaking the ice, but then you hesitated. What would you say? How could you possibly bridge the gap that had grown between you?

As if sensing your gaze, Spencer turned, his eyes locking with yours across the room. For a moment, neither of you moved, the noise of the party fading into the background as you stood frozen, staring at each other. Then, slowly, Spencer made his way over to you, his expression unreadable.

When he finally reached you, you felt your heart pounding in your chest, the words you had planned to say dying on your lips. Instead, you both stood there in awkward silence, the tension between you almost palpable.

“Hi,” Spencer said finally, his voice soft, tentative.

“Hi,” you echoed, feeling like your throat had closed up. You hadn’t been this close to him since the day you’d left, and the proximity was almost too much to bear.

“It’s, um, good to see you,” he said, his eyes searching yours for something, though you weren’t sure what.

“You too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Same,” he said, his lips quirking into a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But Penelope is pretty persuasive.”

You chuckled softly, the sound hollow to your ears. “Yeah, she is.”

Another awkward silence fell between you, and you could feel the weight of all the unspoken words, the things you had left unsaid a year ago, pressing down on you. You had so much you wanted to say, to ask, but you didn’t know where to start.

Spencer seemed to sense your hesitation, and after a moment, he cleared his throat, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I’ve been thinking about you,” he admitted, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear him.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. “I’ve been thinking about you too,” you confessed, the truth slipping out before you could stop it.

He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. “I never wanted things to end the way they did,” he said, his voice laced with regret. “I’ve missed you.”

You felt your resolve crumbling, the walls you had built around your heart starting to crack. “I’ve missed you too, Spencer,” you said, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you building until it felt like you might explode. Then, suddenly, Spencer reached out and took your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you.

“I know we made mistakes,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “But maybe… maybe we could try again?”

You looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was the same love and longing that you felt in your own heart. You knew that taking a step back into a relationship was a risk, especially after everything that had happened, but as you stood there, hand in hand with the man you had never truly stopped loving, you realized that it was a risk you were willing to take.

“Maybe we could,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “But we need to be honest with each other this time. No more hiding our feelings, no more letting the job get in the way.”

Spencer nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I promise,” he said, his voice filled with determination. “I won’t let anything come between us again.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. For the first time in a year, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. “Then let’s give this another shot,” you said, your heart swelling with hope for the future.

Spencer’s smile grew, and he stepped closer to you, his hand still holding yours. “I’d like that,” he said, his voice full of promise.

As you stood there, the sounds of the party fading into the background, you realized that this was your chance to start fresh, to build something new with the person you had always known was meant for you. Last Christmas may have brought heartache and pain, but this Christmas, you had the chance to rewrite your story, to make it something beautiful and lasting.

And as you and Spencer walked out of the party together, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel like you were finally home.

[bradleysass]

Silent Night - Word Count: 514 - Starchaser + Best friend Lily - TW: Grief

The Potter house was too quiet for James’ liking. It used to be filled with laughter, with Sirius’ booming voice, with the gentle hum of Lily’s Christmas playlists. This year, there was only the faint crackle of the fire, the muted flicker of fairy lights, and Silent Night playing softly on the record player.

He stared out the frosted window, his hands wrapped around a mug of hot cocoa that had long since gone cold. Snow blanketed Godric’s Hollow, muffling the world outside and pressing the stillness in closer. James tapped his finger against the ceramic mug, the rhythm uneven, like his thoughts.

“All is calm, all is bright…”

The song mocked him. It wasn’t calm. It wasn’t bright. The world had been dim since he lost him.

Regulus.

James’ mind conjured the image of him as clearly as though he were standing right there, his sharp features softened by candlelight, dark hair falling into stormy grey eyes that had once looked at James like he was everything. Like he was salvation.

But James couldn’t save him. No one could.

Regulus had made his choice, a noble, heartbreaking choice to walk into the darkness alone. His goodbye had been written in the trembling press of lips, in the whispered, “Be better than me, James. Live for the both of us.”

The mug in James’ hands trembled. He’d never hated Christmas before. But now, every sparkling light, every cheerful carol, felt like a cruel reminder of what was gone.

“Jamie?”

He turned to see Lily standing in the doorway, her auburn hair tucked into a loose braid, her green eyes soft with worry. She had a way of reading him, of knowing when his grief crept too close to the surface.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, setting the mug down. “Didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

Lily crossed the room, her slippers silent on the wooden floor. She sat beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched. “You’re allowed to miss him, you know.”

James’ throat tightened. He missed Regulus every day, but Christmas made the ache sharper, the loss more profound. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, he was back in the Potter library, Regulus curled up with a book in his lap, pretending not to care about James wrapping tinsel around him like he was the tree.

“Do you think he knew?” James asked quietly.

“That you loved him?” Lily’s voice was steady. “I think he did.”

The tears came then, hot and stinging, as James leaned into her. She held him without saying a word, letting him grieve in the way he needed.

When the record ended, leaving a hollow silence in its wake, Lily reached out to switch it off. But James stopped her.

“No. Let it play,” he said hoarsely.

Because even if Silent Night mocked him, it also tethered him to Regulus in a way nothing else could. It reminded him that somewhere in the silence, in the stillness, there was a boy who had loved him enough to save the world, even if it meant leaving James behind.

[saixria]

Ok I’ve been busy with family on Christmas but now I can rant about Ithaca saga song by song! Spoiler under the cut since some people might wanna avoid spoilers before the livestream :)

The Challenge: BEAUTIFUL. EXACTLY AS ID HOPED. ANNA SLAYED, I LOVE HER VOICE HOW SILKY MATURE IT IS!! AND THE BELT IN THE END?? AAAOOOUHHHH I HAVE ASCENDED!!! I also love how she’s all alone in the song, she doesn’t let us in on her plan, she doesn’t let us know the bow can only be strung by Odysseus, she talks to the suitors but never directly interacts with any. It really emphasizes how isolated she’s been all these years, without the only one she loves and matches her wit.

Hold them down: Absolute banger. I am a SUCKER for these call and response type songs especially when like the response changes a little to completely change the context of the call? DELICIOUS. This is why I love Antinuous’ songs. ITS SUCH A GOOD VILLAIN SONG ITS INTIMIDATING AND CATCHY AND ARYON’S VOCALS AHHHH I DIDNT EXPECT ANTINUOUS TO DIE RIGHT THERE

Odysseus: ODY FULLY SNAPPED. HSARDMK THE OPEN ARMS JORGE WHEN I FUCKING GET YOU JORGE- The way Odysseus’ name is chanted in the danger motif, the way you can hardly distinguish which parts are his cunning motif and which parts are the danger motif, because he is the danger now. This is what everything has been building up to, why Odysseus’ motif has the same notes as the danger motif. HE IS THE DANGER NOW. THE SUITORS POPPED OFF!! AND ATHENA’S MOTIF AND QUICK THOUGT SFX AHHHH SHES HELPING TELEMACHUS 😭😭😭😭 SHES NOW ABLE TO PERFECTLY COMPLIMENT HIS ABILITIES!!!!! I have some other predictions for the animatic of this — I BET ODYSSEUS IS GONNA BURN THE SUITORS ALIVE. That’s the really dark thing Jorge warned us about, that’s why the suitors were screaming in the end, and it fits the NLY official animatic where it looks like a crowd being burned by fire. “Covered in red” the red isn’t just blood but fire.

Ichbw: mico and Jorge absolutely COOOOOKED the EMOTION, THEY SOUND AMAZING, and their HARMONIZING WAS BEAUTIFUL CONSIDERING THIS SHOW HAVING ESTABLISHED HARMONIZING AS A WAY TO SHOW CLOSENESS!!! Ok. With that out of the way. I. *deep breath AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK I wanna make a separate post for this song, because HHHNNNNN ODYSSEUS ATHENA 😭😭😭 look, I’m coping really hard, trust me they hugged in the pause before ody starts singing. They can still work this out post canon guys trust—

WYFILWMA: everything I wanted and more. I LOVE Jorge belting the second chorus instead of the soft falsetto of the first. The Ruthlessness -> thunderbringer -> NSFLY motifs when he talked about his experiences?? PENELOPE USING THE WEDDING BED TO PROVE TO ODYSSEUS THAT HES STILL HIM, INSTEAD OF LIKE THE OG WHERE IT WAS JUST A TEST??? YOU SMART BASTARD. THE JUSY A MAN REPRISE I ASCENDED AND THEIR HARMONIZING AGAIN!!!! PENELOPE’S INTENSITY, HER RESOLVE IN TELLING ODYSSEUS THAT HE WAS STILL HIM “I GUESS THAT MAKES HIM YOU” I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THEH DESERVE EACH OTHER AHHHHHH THEY AGAIN SOUNDED SPECTACULAR!

All in all, I have been emotionally devastated in more ways than one. I will be making separate posts to rant about ICHBW and another animatic live stream-specific bingo bc my old bingo was SOO OFF LMFAO

[soapcan18]

I’m just gonna post my Ithaca Saga live-reaction rambles here bc I can’t form coherent sentences rn and I need to express my excitement:

The Challenge

PENELOPE OH MY GOD UR VOICE IS SO BEAUTIFUL

SHE KNOWS ABT THE STORM

THE BACKUPS??? HOLYY

WHOEVER CAN STRINGGGG

Am I tripping or is that the horse and the infant motif

PENELOPE UR VOICEEE AHH THE STRENGTH AND THE GENTLENESS AHH

Hold Them Down

Oh my god I’m gonna tweak

It’s about to get DARK

FUCK THE SUITORS!!

ANTINOUS!!!!

OH OH GET IT ANTINOUS

TELEMACHUS ON DIPLOMATIC MISSION I REMEMBER THAT!!!

YOOO THIS IS DARK

BOOONESSS

ONLY THE OCEAN AND I WILL KNOWWW

NO GET AWAY FROM PENELOPE!!!!

ANTINOUS UR A FUCKIN CREEP!!!!!!

KILL THEM AAALLLLLLL

THE VOCALS DEAR LORD

YEAHHHH ODYSSEUS KILL HIS ASS

Odysseus

ODYSSEUS!!!!!!

OH MY GOD JORGEEEE UR VOICEEE

I HEAR U DARE TO TOUCH MY WIFE AND HURT MY BOYYY

I. Have had. Enough.

THE ELECTRIC GUITAR OH MY GODDD

THE SUITORS’ TIME TO SHINE

THE BOW AND SCREAM EFFECT AHHH

WHERE IS HE??? WHERE IS HE???

“You think I don’t know my own palace? I BUILT IT.”

“U destroyed the serpents head” EYY BOOK REFERENCE

NO OPEN ARMS

“No” YOOOO THATS COLDDD THAT’S A POSEIDON REF

I love him just popping in here and then makes us feel like the suitors

“BEHIND YOU”

LEGENDARY MOTIF????

AGHH TELEMACHUS IS HEREEEEE

ATHENA!! OH MY GODDDD ATHENAAA

I HEARD THAT FUCKIN PIANO TRILL

“Ur very presence has doomed the king, young prince. We don’t fight fair!”

WHO IS SINGINNNN

“And he’s made a grave mistaaake”

GET OFF ME!! GET OFF ME!!

HOLD HIM DOWNNN

THE ELECTRICCCC OH MY GODDD HES FULL MONSTER

“Mercy? MERCY? My mercy’s long since drowned. It died to bring me home. And as long as you’re around, my family’s fate is left unknown. You plotted to kill my son. You planned to R### MY WIFE. ALL OF YOU ARE GOING TO DIE.”

THEY SAID THE WORD???

“You filled my heart with hate. All of you who have done me wrong. THIS WILL BE YOUR FATE!”

THE CHOIRRR AHHH ITS BEEN A NO LONGER YOU REF THIS WHOLE TIME

THE SCREAMS???? THEYRE SO REALISTIC OMLLL

I Can’t Help but Wonder

THESE SONGS ARE LONG DAMN

TELEMACHUSSS 🥹

ITS AN ACOUSTIC GUITAR NOW

My heaartttt

OMG WAIT ITS TELEMACHUS SINGING

MILO SOUNDS TOO MUCH LIKE JORGE

His voice is so gentle oh my goddd

MY SON IM FINALLY HOME!

FATHER HOW IVE LONGED TO SEE YOUU

THE HARMONIZINGGGG

ATHENA

ATHENA!!!!

I HEAR HER QUICK THOUGHT

“Show yourself. I know you’re watching me. Show yourself.”

THE PIANOOO THE CLOCKKKK

“You were never one for hellos.”

“I can’t help but wonder what this world can be if we all held each other with a bit more empathy. I can’t help but feel like I led you astray. What if there’s a world where we don’t have to live this way?”

“If that world exists, it’s far away from here. It’s one I’ll have to miss for it’s far beyond my years. You might live forever, so you can make it be. But I’ve got one endeavor. There’s a girl I have to see.”

“Very well.”

WARRIOR OF THE MIND MOTIFFF

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again

FINAL SONGGG

SIX MINUTESS

PENELOPEEEE

THE CACOPHONY OF INSTRUMENTS OH MY GODDD ITS LIKE ODY’S ANTICIPATION

THE DOOR SOUNDD

Youuu look different

Your eyes look tired

IM GONNA RIP MY HEART OUT

I AM NOT THE MAN U FELL IN LOVE WITHHH

Waaaitinggg waaaitingggg

The stringssss godddd

“Left a trail of red on every islanddd” RUTHLESSNESS MOTIF OH MY GODD

“As I traded friends like objects I could use”CIRCE MOTIF??

“Hurt more lives than I can count on my hands” I CANT MAKE OUT A SINGLE ONE BUT PIANO IMPLIES ATHENA??

OMG WAIT CALYPSO “FOR LOVING YOU” MOTIF

WAAAITINGGGG

“If that’s true, could you do me a favor? Just a moment of labor? That would bring me some peace. See that wedding bed? Could you carry it over? Lift it high on your shoulders and take it far away from here?”

I REMEMBER THIS FROM THE BOOK AGHH

“I had built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat…”

THE ELECTRIC GUITAR COMING BACKKK AS HE GETS MORE INTENSE

“The only way to move it is to cut it from ITS ROOTS!” “ONLY MY HUSBAND KNEW THAATTT!”

AHHH I REMEMBERRRRR

PENELOPE TEAR IT UP

THE EMOTIONNNN IN HER VOICEEE

WAAAITTINGGGGG

PENELOPEEEEE

WAAAITINGGGGG

PENELOOPPEEEEEE

WAAAAITINGGGG WAAAAITINGGG WAAAAAAAITINGGGGGG AHHHHHHHHH

forrrrrr (was that the remember them motif???) youuu

Damn she sang so high

THE SYMPHONYYY

JUST A MANNNN ITS BAAACKKKK

THE ANIMATICS R GONNA GO SO HARD DEAR LORD

“How long has it been?” “20 years.”

“I love youuuu”

BRAVO 🥹

JORGE I LOVE YOUUU

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[pookalicious-hq]

cologne... suna rintarou x reader

| pt. 1 | next | masterlist | synopsis: rintarou's trying to figure out where he stands with the performer who frequents the bar he works at. tags/tws: aged-up au, swearing, bar au that I may or may not be continuing, play cologne by beabadobee but i changed a few lyrics so don't come after me word count: 2300~

A few months ago, when someone asked Rintarou what his type was, he said he didn’t have one. It wasn’t a lie, not really. He’d never been the kind of person to narrow things down to specifics. What was the point? People were unpredictable, complicated. Too much work to fit into a box.

But if he had to put it into words, he’d probably say his type was someone who made him happy. Someone who kept him grounded when his mind was a little too restless. Maybe someone who played an instrument—bonus points if it was the guitar or drums.

He didn’t think much of that answer at the time. It was vague, casual. It didn’t feel tied to anything concrete. Just a loose list of qualities, stitched together like the edges didn’t need to match. But now, if someone were to ask him again, the answer wouldn’t feel so arbitrary.

Now, it would feel like you.

It wasn’t something he realized all at once. Maybe it was the first time he heard you play, the steady rhythm of your guitar breaking through the noise of the bar like it had always belonged there. Or maybe it was later, when you leaned against the counter after your set, the faint scent of cologne mixing with the sound of your laughter as you asked for a drink.

Whatever it was, it stuck. It followed him home that night, threaded through his thoughts in a way that made him stop and linger. He hadn’t been looking for it, but somehow it was there anyway.

So in all fairness, he’d just say: you.

The bar had never been as busy as it was now. What used to be a quiet, tucked-away corner of town had turned into the kind of place people flocked to, filling up every table before the sun had fully set. And it wasn’t hard to figure out why.

You had been playing here for months, ever since Atsumu brought you around. You’d just been getting your start then, taking whatever gigs you could to put herself out there. The first night you performed, the bar was still in its quiet days, with a handful of regulars who didn’t look up from their drinks. But now? The place was packed every night, the crowd buzzing with anticipation before you even stepped on stage.

And Rintarou couldn’t blame them.

You were the kind of performer who didn’t just play a song but lived in it, pulling everyone else in with you. People came to hear your music, sure, but Rintarou knew it wasn’t just that. They came for you, for the easy confidence you carried yourself with, for the kind of beauty that felt effortless. He’d overheard the whispers at the bar, the way people leaned in to talk about you like you weren’t just a person but an event they were lucky to witness.

He’d seen it too, the way you made every little detail your own. The dark-red guitar slung over your shoulder like it had been built just for you, the way your fingers moved so fluidly across the frets it seemed like muscle memory. Tonight, you were using the pick he gave you a few weeks ago. A small thing, black with faint scratches from years of use, and you’d refused to take it without making him kiss it first.

“For luck,” you’d said, grinning at him like it was nothing. But the way you looked at him before walking on stage—that linger—made him feel like it was something.

Maybe that’s why last night felt so surreal.

It wasn’t something you’d planned, not something either of you seemed ready for. One moment you were talking, standing close enough for your shoulders to brush, and the next your lips were on his, your hands in his hair, and everything else had fallen away. It had been impulsive, charged, and absolutely impossible to forget.

But now, you were on stage again, starting a new song, and Rintarou couldn’t shake the weight of what hadn’t been said since then. You hadn’t talked, hadn’t even texted. The tension hung in the air like the bassline of your song, subtle but impossible to ignore.

“Am I seductive?”

As the first notes spilled out into the room, your gaze found his. It was direct, unflinching, and it hit him harder than it should have. You sang like you always did, but tonight it was different. Every word felt heavier, your voice wrapping around him like it wasn’t meant for anyone else.

You didn’t look away. Neither did he.

God, what he would do to have you in his hold again. Those goddamned eyes of yours would get him into serious trouble one day.

The song spilled from your lips like a secret, low and deliberate, pulling everyone in until the hum of conversation around the bar faded to nothing. It wasn’t just the sound of your voice or the skill in your hands; it was the way you owned the moment. Every note, every pause between lyrics, felt like it was exactly where it needed to be.

“I’m not done yet, please kiss my neck--”

The red guitar gleamed under the dim stage lights, its body catching faint streaks of gold and purple. Rintarou’s gaze trailed to your hands--

“--let’s go for another round, I hate who this song is about--”

--the way your fingers brushed over the strings like you’d been born with it in your grasp. And there it was again—that stupid pick he’d kissed for you.

He exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair as he tried not to make it obvious that he hadn’t looked away from you once.

These lyrics hit differently tonight. It wasn’t a song he knew-- probably a new composition-- but the words stuck in his chest, heavy and deliberate.

“You’re in my head-”

Your lips curved into the faintest smile as you sang the line, and Rintarou’s pulse stuttered like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. God, did you know what you were doing to him?

“You’re in my head--”

The room felt smaller, like the two of you were caught in some invisible thread that refused to break. The way your voice dipped, the soft flick of your gaze toward him—it wasn’t just performing. It was like you were talking to him, saying all the things you hadn’t last night.

His hand curled into a fist against his thigh, the urge to stand up and pull you off that stage almost too much to ignore. He could imagine it too vividly—the way your eyes would widen in surprise, the way your lips might press into his again, this time without hesitation.

The song ended with a soft hum, your voice trailing off into the kind of silence that demanded applause. And the bar answered, erupting into cheers and whistles, but Rintarou couldn’t bring himself to join in. Not yet.

You stepped back from the mic, brushing a hand through your hair as you glanced out over the crowd. And for a moment, he thought it was over—that you’d let the spell break and move on to your next song.

But then your gaze found his again, and you tilted your head toward the side door at the edge of the room. Subtle, but enough.

He got up without thinking, his chair scraping against the floor as he made his way toward the door.

The air outside hit him first—cool and sharp against his skin. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, trying to play it off like he wasn’t already hanging onto every second of this.

A moment later, you stepped out, guitar slung over your shoulder, the faint glow of the bar’s neon lights casting a halo over your hair.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” you teased, leaning against the brick wall.

His mouth opened, but the words felt tangled up in his throat. He didn’t know where to start—last night, tonight, the way you looked at him like you were daring him to close the space between you.

You took a step closer, your hand slipping into your pocket. When you pulled it out, you were holding the pick. The one he’d given you, the one he’d kissed like an idiot, because how could he ever say no to you?

You held it out to him with a grin, the guitar pick catching the faint neon glow of the streetlights. “Didn’t work this time.”

“What didn’t?” he asked, though he already had a feeling.

“Your good luck charm,” you said, shaking the pick for emphasis. The small plastic piece made a light clinking sound against your nails. “You didn’t even clap. I think you jinxed it.”

He huffed a laugh, the sound low and strained. His shoulders dropped just slightly, the tension that had been coiled so tightly in his chest loosening by a thread. “You don’t need luck. You’re already…”

His words stalled in the crisp night air, his throat tightening around the word that came to mind. Perfect.

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparking behind your soft smile. “What?”

“Nothing.” He cleared his throat, his fingers twitching as he took the pick from your hand. He turned it over, feeling its smooth surface press into his callused fingertips. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

You stepped closer, and the lightest hint of your perfume drifted his way—a sharp, citrusy note with a soft undercurrent of something floral. It pulled at him in a way he couldn’t explain. Your voice dropped, teasing but not harsh. “Fine?”

“Don’t do that,” he muttered, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other.

“Do what?”

“Make me nervous.”

Your smile curled into something wicked, your eyes glinting with amusement.

Tilting your head, you leaned in, and now you were so close he could feel the faint warmth radiating from your skin. The air between you carried a tension he didn’t know how to name, an invisible thread pulling tighter with every second.

“Am I?” you asked softly, your voice weaving into the cool night like a secret only the two of you could hear.

“Are you what?” he croaked, his voice betraying him.

“Making you nervous.”

The slight lift of your lips was devastating. Teasing, yes, but there was a tenderness underneath, like you were testing the waters rather than just pushing him in.

His throat worked, but no words came. All he could focus on was the way your gaze held his—like you were daring him to look away.

“Why’d you call me out here?” he finally rasped, the words coming out more gruffly than he intended.

Your eyes flicked to the pick still resting in his hand before meeting his again. “Because I thought we had something to talk about.”

The weight of your words landed squarely in his chest, making his pulse quicken.

“Last night,” he said, his voice steadier now, though his heart was anything but. “You mean that.”

You nodded, and your expression softened, the sharp edges of your teasing fading into something warmer. “Yeah. That.”

He exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair, the cool night air biting at his fingertips. “It wasn’t just me, was it?”

“No,” you replied, your voice firm but gentle. “It wasn’t just you.”

The truth hung there, suspended between you. The air seemed heavier now, as if it were holding its breath.

“You didn’t text,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could catch them. “I thought maybe…”

“Maybe I regretted it?”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening, then nodded once.

You sighed, your head tipping back against the wall behind you. The brick scraped faintly against the fabric of your jacket, the sound quiet but grounding. “Rin, I didn’t regret it. I just didn’t know what to say.”

“Me neither,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “But now we’re here, so…”

“So?” you prompted, arching a brow. “I think I said a lot a few minutes ago…”

“So, I’m saying something.” He stepped closer, his voice firmer now, his hand tightening around the pick in his grasp. “I don’t know what this is, but I know I don’t want to mess it up.”

For a moment, you simply studied him, your expression unreadable. And then your lips curved into a small smile—not mischievous or teasing, but something quieter, something real.

“You’re such a dumbass,” you said, shaking your head.

He let out a soft laugh, the sound easing some of the tension crackling in the air. “You’re one to talk.”

“Maybe.” Your hand brushed his—the one still clutching the pick—and lingered just long enough for him to feel the warmth of your skin. “But you’re my dumbass, right?”

His breath caught, the words hitting him harder than they should have.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Your grin widened just slightly, but the light in your eyes was softer now. Leaning in, you closed the remaining distance between you, your face so close he could feel the faint warmth of your breath against his skin.

“Good,” you murmured, and before he could overthink it, you kissed him.

It was softer this time, deliberate, like you weren’t in any rush. His free hand found your waist, the fabric of your jacket rough under his palm as the pick slipped from his fingers and landed on the pavement with a quiet click.

The world faded into the background—the distant hum of neon lights, the faint rustle of leaves in the wind, the cool bite of the air. There was only you and him, and the way you fit so perfectly in his arms.

When you finally pulled back, your forehead rested lightly against his, your breath mingling with his in the small space between.

“Guess your luck wasn’t so bad after all,” you murmured, your voice laced with quiet amusement.

“Guess not,” he replied, his grip on your waist tightening just slightly, as if to anchor himself in this moment.

For once, the silence between you wasn’t heavy or uncertain. It simply was—steady, comfortable, and right.

a/n: i love him sm omg

[sunshinehaze1]

Sea of Love

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

Summary: Javi surprises you for your birthday!

Warnings: 18+, MDNI. established relationship, fluff, smut, semi-public sex, fingering, unprotected PiV, creampie, no use of y/n

a/n: I wrote this for my dear friend @80ssong for her birthday, and she was cool with me sharing it with the world! Javi G is her fave, and there is not enough Javi G fic out there! So we’re going to change that one fic at a time. Happiest of birthdays to you!! I love you! 🥳❤️ huge thank you to the lovely @baronessvonglitter for the beta 🫶🏼 I also made a playlist to accompany the fic. Javi seems like the type who would woo you with Yacht Rock love songs. 🤭 I hope you enjoy it!

word count: 2,665

ao3 | ml

You're awoken gently by one of Javi's assistants, Sophia, encouraging you out of bed. "Up, up, señorita."

In your groggy state, you turn to the other side of the bed and notice that Javi isn't beside you. You return your gaze to Sophia with a furrowed brow. "Mr. Gutiérrez would like you to meet him at the dock."

"The dock?" You question, "What for?"

"He didn't say, señorita."

You had been anticipating a lazy day in bed in your lover's arms. It was the one thing you had asked for to celebrate turning a year older: one-on-one time with Javi, an opportunity to sleep in. You're unsure why the plan has changed.

You've been with Javi for over a year, having relocated to the island to be with him. It has been a whirlwind romance. You met him at a movie premiere after-party for a film he wrote. You worked in marketing for the studio that distributed it, his sophomore production, which followed the blockbuster success of the movie he co-wrote with Nicolas Cage. 

Long-distance worked for the first few months, but it soon became difficult. Balancing the time difference and long flights with your busy schedules was exhausting. Javi offered you a role in his family's business, leading PR and marketing, and you relocated to Mallorca, moving into his lavish home. It has been absolute bliss ever since.

You suspect Javi is up to something. He's a romantic, and he loves to surprise you. There's only one way to find out what he has planned this time, so you crawl out of bed, wash up, and slip on a flowy floral dress and sandals. Before you exit your shared bedroom, you grab your sunglasses from the dresser to shield your eyes from the bright Mallorcan sun. 

As you descend the outdoor stairs, you admire Javi's handsome appearance. He's wearing a fitted baby blue blazer, striped shirt, and tan pants. His brown curls are accented with a golden hue, and his sunglasses hide his soft brown eyes. He greets you with a broad smile, and his arms extend before him. "Hello, mi amor!"

He embraces you and pecks your cheek with a kiss. "Javi, what are you up to?"

"Mi amor, it is a surprise. Come, come, they are waiting for us." He gestures toward a 60-foot yacht docked in the harbor.

"Javi!" your mouth falls open, "When did you get this?" You're still not used to a lifestyle of such extravagance and luxury.

"It arrived last week. The build, it took some time," he shares enthusiastically. "But it arrived at the perfect time. Now we can sail on its maiden voyage to celebrate your birthday!"

You stare adoringly at him, unbelieving that this is your life now. Javi's zest for life and enjoyment of every moment were among the many reasons you fell head over heels for him.

As you approach the boat, you notice the script lettering on the stern—it's your name. Javi has named it after you. Tears form, threatening to fall from your eyes; the significance of such an act is not lost on you.

Javi sees a tear roll down your cheek, and his face falls with worry. He cups your face in his hands and thumbs the tear away. "Baby, are you alright?"

It's a struggle to find the words right away. So you nod and smile, your eyes glassy, until you finally squeak out, "You named it after me?"

"But of course. It is tradition to name your boat after someone meaningful in your life, for good luck." his eyes never waver from yours. "And you, mi amor, are the most important person in my life. I am the luckiest man in the world! I love you so much!" He kisses the tip of your nose and wipes another tear before it can fall.

"I love you too, Javi."

He grabs your hand and walks you toward the yacht, "Come, let's board. We will be at sea for three days."

You halt, "But Javi, I didn't pack anything!"

"Sophia has taken care of that for you. Do not worry."

--

In addition to the Captain and First Officer, the yacht is fully staffed with a chef and stewards available to cater to your every need. Javi excitedly shows you around the space to get acquainted with the amenities. The crew's quarters are tucked away from the main area, offering you and Javi privacy. There is a living area with ample seating and a wet bar, multiple bedrooms, and bathrooms. He shows you the primary bedroom, which includes a walk-in closet. You peek inside to see the clothes Sophia packed for you are hung and perfectly ironed.

You exit the closet to meet Javi standing near the edge of the bed, "This is so beautiful, Javi."

"I'm so happy you love it, mi amor." He softly kisses your lips. "The chef has prepared a late lunch for us." His hand grasps around yours, "Let's go eat!"

You follow him back into the main cabin. A mahogany dining table is appointed with crisp linens, delicate china, and wine glasses with a beautiful floral arrangement in the middle. Javi pulls a chair from the table and motions for you to sit. He quickly rounds the table to sit across from you.

The chef enters with his attendants, who trail behind him with their hands full of serving dishes. They carefully place the dishes while the chef introduces the meal, which includes paella with prawns, ceviche, oysters, small plates of olives, and assorted local cheeses. The staff then leaves you and Javi to enjoy your meal in peace.

Javi pours the wine, and you raise them for a toast. "Mi amor, you have made me the happiest man. I hope to celebrate a thousand more birthdays with you. I love you."

You clink your glasses together and take a first sip of a rich, full-bodied red. Your eyes are misty as you gaze adoringly at Javi. "You make me so happy, too. I love you."

--

With the impending sunset, you and Javi want to take advantage of the last bit of daylight together. You return to the room and change into your swimsuits. Sophia has packed your favorite bikini, one that accentuates your beautiful curves. It happens to be Javi's favorite, too. A black halter top that ties around your neck and pushes your tits together to create delectable cleavage and black and white striped bottoms that tie at the hips.

As you change, you catch Javi stealing glances at you in the mirror. Looking back at him over your shoulder, you give him a little show. Slowly peeling off your dress, one strap at a time, letting it fall to the floor. You shimmy your panties down your legs, exposing your bare ass and cunt to him as you bend over, feeling Javi's eyes bore into you.

When you straighten, you lock eyes with him over your shoulder and reach around to unclasp your bra. Your forearm holds the cups in place, not wanting to reveal yourself too soon. Javi's eyes darken with lust; he bites his bottom lip, watching with rapt attention. With a wink, you drop your arm, and your bra falls to the floor, revealing your tits to him.

"You are so gorgeous, mi amor." Javi breathes out.

Heat roils in your chest, trailing up your neck, feeling loved and adored by your man. "Thank you, handsome."

You change into your bikini while Javi puts on his swimsuit. He's wearing a pair of striped swim briefs, which perfectly highlight the outline of his beautiful cock. His tanned, broad shoulders are covered with a yellow button-up.

He leads you to the boat's bow, where an expansive chaise lounge is located. Javi removes his shirt before he sits; his golden skin glistens in the sunshine. His body is pressed against the back of the lounger, and his legs are spread out in front of him. He pats the area between his legs, inviting you to sit. His legs spread wider as you position yourself in front of him.

Once situated, he pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around you lovingly. His hands begin to stroke the tops of your thighs while you admire the Mallorcan landscape of rocky cliffs and the sun's rays reflecting off the crystal blue water.

"Javi, it is just so beautiful out here."

He leans forward to kiss your temple, "Not nearly as beautiful as you."

His lips linger, moving lower to your cheek and down to your jawline, where he softly nibbles as you coo in response to the feel of his soft lips on the delicate skin. His lips journey to the sensitive skin of your neck, where he sucks at your pulse point. Your body writhes at his ministration, and a soft whimper falls from your lips. He knows exactly where and how to touch you; he's spent the last year exploring every inch of your body, discovering how it responds to his touch.

"Oh, I know how you like it when I kiss you here." Another kiss lands below your earlobe, "and here." The tip of his tongue slowly trails along the top of your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine. He chuckles, "And there."

Your body floods with warmth as your desire for him crescendos. Arousal pools into your bikini bottoms, "Javi, please."

"Please what, mi amor?"

"I need you to touch me, please."

Javi clicks his tongue, "As you wish."

His palm skates from your thigh to your soft stomach. His fingers trace over your silken skin until he reaches your hip, and he pulls at the end of your bikini's tie, slowly releasing its knot. You ache with anticipation as he slowly trails back across your stomach to release the tie on the other side. The front of your suit slides down, exposing your cunt to the salt air. An exasperated sigh escapes your lips, desperate for him to touch you where you need it most.

"You were such a tease changing into your swimsuit earlier. So naughty." he teases, "And now we're so impatient. Huh, baby?"

You nod your head. "Please," you whine.

Javi coos in your ear, "I got you." His lips tug at your earlobe.

You watch as his ring-adorned finger slowly navigates toward your lips. Grazing the tip of it along your outer folds until he moves toward your center to capture your arousal along your wet seam. "Oh, she's desperate, isn't she?"

Your brain is dizzy with his relentless teasing. Words fail you; your only response is to buck your hips into his fingers, resolute in your search for relief. You moan as one brushes against your sensitive clit. Finally.

Javi has dragged this out for the both of you too long, having worked himself up. His cock, rock hard, ruts up against the small of your back, seeking friction. His finger sinks into your wet folds, pulsing in and out of your cunt while he thumbs at your clit. You writhe in his arms, head falling back on his shoulder. He whispers into your ear, "So wet, baby. My fingers are just slipping right in. You're always so wet for me."

His other palm ascends your body, reaching the cups of your suit. He yanks the cups down, freeing your tits. Your hardened nipples piercing the air. He cups your tit in his soft hand, pulling the nipple between his fingers. Gently tweaking at it, which triggers your hips to lurch forward into his palm, his fingers deepening their reach inside your pussy until they hit that sweet spongy spot.

The sensations are intense, stimulating all of your senses at once: his gentle, coaxing touch, the cool breeze mixed with the mist of saltwater against your skin, and the thrill of this semi-public display of indecency, knowing that at any point, the boat staff could see this debauchery. Thankfully, they have all signed NDAs. "You're so close. I can feel you squeezing my fingers." he encourages, "Let go for me."

And you do. Your fingers dig into his forearm for purchase as you wail out his name. The sound muffled by waves crashing against the boat as it advances through the water. He works you through your orgasm, the stroke of his fingers slowing as you come down from your climax. As your breathing evens out, you collapse into him, your head resting on his shoulder.

He removes his fingers from you and brings them to his lips. He savors your sweet musk, sucking off your juices from his digits, "mmm, I will never get tired of how you taste."

You tilt your head to meet his lips and moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue. You feel Javi's hard cock poking into your lower back, too distracted to notice it before. Twisting your arm behind you, you stroke your palm over the front of his suit, feeling the ridges of his length, and he lets out a strangled moan.

Desperate for your touch, he lowers the front of his suit to free his cock. Stroking it, he taps the tip of it against your back, and you feel a bead of precum against your skin. You move your hand over his and stroke in tandem. He collects the leaked precum from his tip to lubricate his strokes. He hisses when you tighten your grip over his. "Mi amor, I will come if you keep doing that."

"We can't have that, can we?"

You lift yourself to hover over his cock. He teases the tip through your slick folds, brushing your clit. You feel a burn in your quads as you lower yourself onto him until he's fully sheathed inside you. "You're just desperate for this cock, huh?"

You answer him by lifting yourself back up until only the tip breaches your entrance, and without warning, spear yourself onto him and begin to ride him in pursuit of another orgasm. Your tits bounce with your movement, and he reaches around to cup them in his hands, kneading them softly. One of his hands lowers to below your waist to your clit. A mixture of circles and taps on your sensitive bud edge you closer to your second release. Your pace quickens, and a wave of ecstasy rolls through you as your cunt pulsates around him.

Before you can come down from your high, he pushes you forward onto all fours in one swift motion. His cock never leaves your tight hole as he kneels behind you. He withdraws until only his tip remains in your warm, wet embrace before he slams back into you. "Fuck!" he grunts, "She's so tight."

Javi begins a steady pace, his hips slapping into your ass. His hands hold onto your hips with a bruising grip, pulling you into him to sync with his thrusts. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each stroke.

"Hnnngh." you moan, "Baby, you're so deep. Fill me up!"

His pace quickens, and his balls tighten as his release draws near. His pelvis pounds into you until, finally, his seed paints your walls. He wraps his arm tight around your waist and collapses into you, his forehead meeting your bare shoulder. He scatters light kisses along your back while his breath returns to normal.

Once he's come to, he draws you back into his lap. His cum dribbles out over his softening cock as he pulls out from you. He reaches over to grab a towel and cleans you both.

You relax into Javi, sated and content, as you watch the sun begin its descent behind the cliffs, painting the sky in orange and pink hues. You could care less that you're still in your fucked out state, half-naked and blissed out. All that matters is that you are in your love's strong arms.

Javi peppers soft kisses along your cheek, "Happy Birthday, mi amor."

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏻

[mountainashes]

I do wish Sam/Hannah was more popular for it's absolute angst.

[heartorbit]

i want to know everything that makes you happy! 💫🪐🎇

[biterflies]

hey remember how brian got thrown into space for heresy basically and remember how the mechs have some fucked up time travel shit going on and remember how brian is space jesus. so anyway wouldnt it be fucked up if the existance of drumbot brian is a fucked up time loop where the mechs go back in time and brian gets deified having a religion based around him (on accident or not idk) and then through thousands to millions of years after he leaves the religion based on him is warped through mistranslations and general passing of time and corrupt religious leaders, and much like christianity and how modern christians wouldnt actually like jesus because hes an arab immigrant who hangs out with the disenfranchished and heals the sick free of charge and feeds the hungry and helps the homeless and etc? anyway this is probably disproven somewhere somehow in the mechs lore but i dont actually care about canon right now i just think it would be super fucked up if this happened

[everloste]

him again i guess

[captainstarburst]

i swear to god someday i'll make a post about how mad the way christmas kids by roar has been treated on the internet makes me. but today is not that day.

[mbat]

how ive been feeling lately

[thevalleyoftriumph]

Wait you like Madness Combat AND Epic the Musical too? Do you get any cooler...

I HAVE QUITE A FEW INTERESTS YES.... HELLO ANON.... HI.... SO GLAD YOU THINK IM COOL ^_^