#christmas cheer part 1

[slicedmayonnaise]

Okay since the holidays are coming up, I need someone do to something with jovier and Last Christmas by Wham!

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Hate your guts (pt 1)

~ this fic is my Christmas gift💙 i'm dividing this into two parts bcs tumblr is shit

pairing: rockstar!hyunjin x rockstar afab!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, smut

wc: 26.6k

synopsis: hwang hyunjin, your sworn enemy. the person who finds and pushes all your buttons, annoys you and makes you angry. the person you're trying to avoid so badly, only to end up practically sharing a bed with him on tour. let the fun begin!

warnings: lots of swearing, smoking and alcohol, mentions of blood and throwing up, mild violence, multiple sex scenes, unprotected sex, oral (f and m), fingering, handjob, semi-public sex, spanking, creampies, mix of degradation and praise

a/n: thank you @frehyun for helping me come up with a name for hyunjin's band💕 also a thank you to @jehhskz @moonchild9350 and @hyunebunx for giving me suggestions, listening to me yap and being supportive while i was writing this🥹🩷🩷🩷 title is inspired by inji, go listen to her music🫶🏻

a little ramble: feel free to skip this! but i just wanted to say that this was supposed to be done sooner cause i had other fics planned out to write but work got in the way. so i wrote this fic whenever and wherever i could; hiding in the bathroom at work, during my break, at the bus station, at 3am when i couldn't sleep etc... it's been a ride and i'm proud of how it turned out, hopefully y'all enjoy it too🥹🫶🏻

“...And do you look into the mirror to remind yourself you’re there? Or have somebody’s goodnight kisses got that covered? When I’m not being honest, I pretend that you were just some lover…”

It was a perfect but short moment.

The fresh breeze coming into the car where the window was opened just a little was enough to give you some air but still managed to hide most of your face from the outside world. 

The music in your ears was loud, so loud that you were drowning in it, the warm and comforting voice, the melancholic guitar riff in the background, and the gentle sluggish drums putting it all together into a song that made your eyes water.

You tuned everything else out as this was the only moment of peace you were going to get today.

You needed every shred of sanity you could gather, and you were determined to hold onto it as much as you could.

Because today, you had an interview with him.

Hwang Hyunjin.

Oh, the name you know so well.

Even thinking about the way it sounds makes you feel angry.

It seemed as if his life mission was to find every single button of yours and push them repeatedly until you exploded like a ticking bomb.

Your mind wandered as you thought about him and how much his existence angered you, your stomach turning into knots.

Or maybe it was just pre-interview nerves.

No matter how many times you talked in front of the camera, it always made you feel anxious and jittery.

Being on stage was fun, there was no anxiety there as whenever you would step on it and see all the people cheering for you and singing along to the music you and your friends wrote, your heart felt full, your soul elated. 

It was an exhilarating feeling you couldn’t even begin to explain to someone who’d never experienced it.

Every concern in your head, every ache in your soul, every tear behind your eyelids threatening to spill got erased when you gave yourself to the stage.

If you could, you would definitely try to avoid the interviews and just perform.

But your record company had other plans.

Being the only up and rising all girls rock band in the company meant that you needed promotion, and what better way to promote than to collab with the only boy rock band in the same company?

Hwang Hyunjin’s band.

Yes, you couldn’t wait for this day to be over.

“Y/n!” you were shaken out of your thoughts, as your manager pulled at your headphones.

“What?” you almost snapped at her, startled by her antics.

“You were staring off into space and muttering angrily about Hyunjin. Something like ‘poke his eyes out’ and ‘conceited dick’.” Ana giggled, covering her lips with her hand as you rolled your eyes, realizing that you’ve already arrived at the building for the interview.

“I’m sure you find all this amusing. But I am not amused at all. Last time I had an interview with that... bastard, everyone thought we were dating and started shipping us.” you recoil at the thought. “I would never date someone like him.”

“Oh y/n, lighten up! You know there will always be rumors of all kinds. The dating rumors are the least harmful ones, trust me. Just act like you’re besties with Hyunjin, for an hour tops.”

You take a deep breath in, then sigh.

“I am a professional. I will do this right.” you nod with a determined tone as Ana bumped her fist with yours.

“That’s the spirit!” your manager smacked your thigh happily as you yelped, making her laugh before she exited the car.

Since you were in the underground parking lot, there was no press around so you walked out of the car freely, going directly to the elevator that would take you to the reception.

Ana pressed the button when you walked in and just as the doors started closing, someone’s combat boot was pushed between the silver doors, stopping them and making them open again.

Your eyes traveled up from the boots, to the tight leather pants and the skimpy tank top revealing a tattoo sleeve, right to the face you hoped you won’t be seeing for at least another ten minutes.

Hyunjin had an obnoxious smirk dancing on his lips as he looked down at you, puffing his chest out like some peacock showing off his feathers and you already wanted to smack the shit out of him.

His manager, Anthony waved at the two of you, ushering him into the elevator.

���Good morning y/n, Ana.” Anthony greeted as Hyunjin kept smirking at you.

“It was good until now.” you crossed your arms over your chest.

Even the cologne Hyunjin was wearing made you want to puke your guts out so you stepped away from him.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned on the wall casually, never taking his eyes off of you.

“Aw, you throwing a tantrum already baby?” he smirked at you and you started fuming.

Both of your managers rolled their eyes, Ana muttering ‘here we go again’ as she shook her head.

“I see you have a new piercing on your face. You needed another hole to let the air out of that empty head?” you said, trying to sound nonchalant and Hyunjin scoffed.

“I’m gonna ignore that comment and focus on the fact that you’re counting my piercings. Observing me, huh?” he looked at you smugly.

“Yeah, cause I have nothing better to do than-”

Ding!

“Alright, break it off kids, were here!” Anthony said, quickly pulling Hyunjin out of the elevator.

“See? I can’t stand him.” you groaned as Ana chuckled.

“You stood up to him pretty well.” Ana winked. “Let's go get some coffee, get you properly awake before the interview.” she gripped your shoulders, shaking you a little as you groaned in protest.

Thankfully, Hyunjin had disappeared somewhere and you were glad he wasn’t around to annoy you, as you made small talk with a few of the staff you knew there since you’ve already been interviewed for the same channel before. 

“Ana, I’m gonna go get some air before we start.” you felt the nerves creeping up inside you.

“Okay, but you have to be back in five minutes.” she reminded you and you gave her a thumbs up, before practically sprinting down the hall to get to the little terrace hidden on the side.

Staff used it for smoke breaks, and you decided to use it to calm your anxiety down.

You flung the door open and stepped out onto the balcony, quickly taking a deep breath in while you looked down at the city before you.

“Needed to see me once more before the interview?” a voice rang out to the left of you.

Hyunjin’s voice.

Of course the bastard is here, you thought, your face becoming hot in annoyance.

“I had no idea you were here, asshole.” you turned to look at him.

He was leaning on the railing, flexing his muscles, a long vein protruding under the layer of the swirling colorful flowers inked into his skin, leading all the way to his long fingers with chipped nail polish and a cigarette pinched between his thumb and index finger.

He looked at you intently through his bangs that were haphazardly falling into his eyes, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, before his tongue poked out to play with the piercing adorning it.

“I thought you had more originality when it comes to nicknames, darling.” he said mockingly before taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Don’t call me that.” you turned around to leave but Hyunjin’s long arm quickly blocked your way, his palm splayed on the wall.

You looked up at him and stepped back, just as he puffed the smoke out your way.

“You leaving?” he looked smug again, intrusive thoughts of pushing him off the balcony appeared in your mind.

“Yes, this space is too small and your cologne is nauseating.” your face scrunches up.

“Aw, I’ll make sure to find another one you’d like.” Hyunjin smirks.

“Don’t bother.” you ducked under his arm and opened the door, walking away as fast as you could.

At least he helped in a way, you weren’t anxious anymore, just annoyed and waiting for this day to be over. 

“Where is Hyunjin, we’re starting in a minute.” Anthony’s brows furrowed while you were ushered towards the room. 

“Last I saw him, he was smoking on the balcony.” you shrugged as they sat you down. 

The chair where Hyunjin would be sitting was too close for comfort and you wanted so badly to push it away, but you figured it was there because of the camera frame. 

“We’re on in 30 seconds!” one of the staff yelled and you rolled your eyes. 

Of course he was late, the self-centered bastard. You were sure he was enjoying this, everyone waiting on his highness to arrive, everyone panicking around him as he wears that disgusting smug smirk on his face.

“In 10…9…” the staff started counting down just as the door swung open and a breathless Hyunjin ran into the room, almost tripping over your crossed legs before he sat down on the chair next to you. 

After he ran in, one of the girls working there ran in too, quickly taking her place with rosy cheeks and her lipgloss smeared. 

You rolled your eyes and looked at him, the glitter from the girl’s lipgloss was visibly shining on his lips and chin. 

“You have a little something.” you said and he smirked, wiping his chin off before leaning towards you.

“My lips were dry.” he whispered with a wink.

You were more than ready to get this over with, seething with anger at his unprofessional behavior that you didn’t even notice the camera began rolling. 

“... today’s special guests are y/n of Venus Flytrap and Hyunjin of Lycoris Radiata! I hope y’all are as excited as I am, since it’s been so long. Y/n, let’s start with you. You have a new album coming out soon, can we get a little sneak peek of that?” the interviewer, Sarah, asked as you adjusted on your chair. 

“This is our third album now, and this time Steph and Janey participated in the writing more than before, so the songs are really personal to all three of us.”

“Are we finally gonna hear about their love story?” Sarah wiggled her eyebrows. 

“We may.” you smirked at her, not wanting to reveal too much.

“How about yours?” she added on, in the corner of your eye you saw Hyunjin leaning towards you as he stared at you, manspreading like always, his knee knocking into yours. 

“Huh?” 

“Your love story. Is there a special guy or girl in your life?” the interviewer asked, making you feel annoyed instantly. 

You hated being asked questions like that, sometimes it felt like the music you were writing didn’t even matter, all people wanted to know was who you’re fucking. 

“Not at the moment, no.” you forced a smile so you don’t seem rude.

“I thought I was special.” Hyunjin chimed in next to you, bumping his shoulder against yours, that shit eating grin you hate spreading on his face.

Before you could answer, Sarah butted in. 

“Oh, is there something happening between you that we should know about?”

You could just hear the excitement in her voice, the hunger for drama dripping from her lips. 

“Nothing is happening, we just like to joke around like that.” you quickly answered, hoping to deflect her to another question, or that she’d finally talk to Hyunjin and ask him about his new song, so you could take a few moments to breathe. 

“So, you two are close?”

Oh no. 

Here it goes again. 

Last time this happened, your name got dragged on every social media platform.

People who were shipping the two of you got on your nerves, but that wasn’t the biggest problem.

No, it was the people who had sent you hate and death threats, telling you if they saw you next to Hyunjin again you’d be dead. 

It took a toll on your mental health and scared you since you know people can easily find an address or stalk you somewhere and you wanted to avoid any rumors that would endanger your well-being. 

“We're just coworkers.” to your surprise Hyunjin answered nonchalantly, saying exactly what you wanted to say so people would leave you alone. 

Why was there a weird feeling in your chest then?

“Well, sometimes there’s passion at the workplace.” Sarah wasn’t giving it up and you were close to losing your temper and telling her to shove it already, ask some less invasive questions. 

“No passion here, our relationship is strictly professional.” you said, but your skin burned where Hyunjin’s thigh pressed against yours.

In your mind you were cursing both him and Sarah, and even your manager for bringing you here.

Thankfully, she left it at that, continuing with questions about your upcoming tour and Hyunjin’s new song. 

As soon as the interview finished and you were done shaking hands, Ana came to you, her hand on your shoulder as she squeezed. 

In the corner of your eye, you saw Hyunjin slip out of the room.

“Good job.” she smiled as Anthony joined the two of you. 

“I hope you’re hungry, y/n. This time it’s my treat, and there’s this restaurant…”

You tuned Anthony out, completely forgetting that after an interview like this, the tradition is to have dinner with Hyunjin and his manager. 

“Can we skip dinner this time? I just wanna go home and lay down.”

“Nonsense, I hear your stomach growling from here. Come on, it’s free food you can’t say no.” Anthony made a goofy face, hoping to win you over.

“Fine, you had me at free food.” you sighed as Ana nodded with a smile.

“Good! Now where is our other rockstar?” he quickly looked around. “I swear, sometimes I feel like I’m a babysitter, not a manager.”

“I’ll go find him.” you offered, wanting to leave the building as soon as possible.

“Sure.” Ana nodded and you made your way down the hall.

Your footsteps echoed in the empty space, until you came closer to a corner where the sounds of hushed voices and giggles filled up your ears and made you roll your eyes. 

“You know I can’t give you my number, baby. But if there is an empty room around here somewhere…” Hyunjin was talking to the girl from earlier, leaning over her body as she stared up at him like he was a god, her back against the wall.

You cleared your throat, crossing your arms on your chest. 

Both of them looked up at you, Hyunjin giving you a smirk as he straightened up and the girl glared at you but you didn’t give a shit. 

“We need to leave right now. Our managers are waiting for us.” you said simply as the girl whined. 

“Shh, maybe some other time.” he shushed her, leaning towards her and your stomach flipped in disgust. 

He didn’t kiss her, just taunted her before he leaned back and made his way towards you. 

“Cockblocker.” he stuck his tongue out, the piercing adorning it catching the light for a moment. 

“Do you even know her name?” you asked, keeping a fast pace and a good distance away from him.

“No. Does it matter?” he shrugged, his long legs quickly catching up to you in big strides.

“You’re despicable.” your face scrunched up in disgust as you neared the elevator where your managers were waiting and chatting. 

“Throwing some big words around. You sure you know the meaning?” he smirked.

“That’s it.” you said angrily.

“What? You just basically told me I deserve to be hated just cause I wanted to have some fun.” 

You looked at him, full on ready to slap him across his face but Ana stepped between the two of you. 

“Fighting again? Can the two of you behave for just one evening?” Anthony frowned with a sigh as he called the elevator. 

“I can behave.” Hyunjin clicked his tongue cheekily before playing with his lip ring again. 

“Y/n?” Ana looked at you. 

“As long as he doesn’t talk to me, I’ll be fine.” you turned away from Hyunjin, stepping into the elevator. 

This is going to be one awkward dinner. 

-

Choosing to disconnect in the van you put your earphones in, ignoring Hyunjin’s presence right next to you. 

It’s like your managers wanted to have you two as close as possible, like they thought it’d make you hate each other less but at this moment there was nothing more you wanted than to get away from him. 

Or maybe your managers wanted to be closer to each other, you smirked to yourself as Ana twirled her hair around her finger, giggling at something Anthony said. 

You leaned back as the music flooded your ears, your figure slightly turned towards the window as you watched the street lights pass you by, totally unaware of a pair of eyes that were glued to you.

Hyunjin observed you in detail, how shiny your hair was as it cascaded down your back and shoulders, how your brows were slightly creased and your lips pouty as you listened to your music, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers played with the hem of your shirt as you pulled on it, how pretty the rings adorning your fingers were, how the necklace you always wore laid gently on your collarbone.

No little detail was skipped as he drinked it all in, thinking you wouldn’t notice. 

But after some time as it got even darker outside, you caught Hyunjin’s reflection in the window as he stared at you with a look on his face that you’ve never seen before. 

Your stomach suddenly swirled as the two of you made eye contact on the glass, Hyunjin’s plump lips falling open before he sat up and looked away, acting like nothing happened. 

The rest of the ride was uneventful and you were tired of this day, having to look at Hyunjin was more exhausting to you than being on stage.

You couldn’t wait to get into your bed and disappear. 

As you walked into the restaurant, you were led to a table and you could see a few people whispering and pointing at you but usually they didn’t bother you much. 

However, this time was different. 

As you scanned the menu, a girl timidly approached your table and you looked up at her as she stood next to Hyunjin. 

“I’m - I’m sorry to bother you but I’m a really big fan and I was wondering if you’d take a picture with me?” she asked Hyunjin who immediately smirked at her.

“No pictures allowed. But you can get his signature.” Anthony chimed in. 

“And who the fuck are you?” the girl changed her demeanor right away, making Hyunjin chuckle.

“Easy there, sweetheart, that’s my boss.” he wiggled his eyebrows at the girl. “Come on I’ll give you a sign and you can write me your number, maybe I’ll call you, hm?” Hyunjin winked at her and you just about lost your appetite completely.

“Oh, sure, I’d love that!” she let out a nasally laugh as he signed a napkin with a pen she somehow produced, giving it back to her as she leaned over to write her number down, making sure her tits were right in his face before she skipped back to her friends. 

“Can there be at least one minute when you’re not trying to fuck something that walks?” you looked at him annoyingly and he laughed.

“Thought you weren’t talking to me.” he smirked. 

“Ugh, you’re so annoying!” you were ready to smack him with the menu in your hand but Ana caught your wrist. 

“I bet you love that about me.” he kept smirking. 

“Love is nothing near what I feel about you.” you said, your teeth gritted.

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, you know.” Hyunjin smirked, leaning into your personal space. 

“Anyways, guys. What are you ordering? Their steak is really good.” Anthony gave an awkward smile as he looked around the table. 

“I want the tomato pasta.” Hyunjin leaned back, making you cackle.

“Isn’t that the kids menu? Makes sense for you somehow.” 

“I’m saving room for dessert.” he winked at you, his tongue running over his lip tentatively, the piercing on it catching the light again. 

“Ew.” you jolted in disgust as he laughed loudly, obviously finding enjoyment in ticking you off. 

The dinner part of the outing was uneventful as everyone ate and made small talk but you didn’t miss how Hyunjin crumpled up the napkin with the fan’s number and threw it aside on the table, not caring about it. 

What an asshole. 

“Let’s make a little toast to this evening and the upcoming albums and tour.” Ana proposed as she lifted her glass up. 

“To us.” Hyunjin smirked as he looked at you. 

“To rock’n’roll!” you added as the four of you clinked your glasses together before taking a big swig of your drinks.

Hyunjin didn’t look at you on the drive home. 

-

Rehearsal was supposed to start at 9am sharp, but you were there bright and early, tuning your guitar. 

Being an early bird, you loved the few moments of peace you could have to yourself, just you and your music. 

Your hand glided easily on the guitar’s neck, taking shapes familiar to your hands, it was muscle memory by now, your fingers picking on the strings and creating the melody you played countless times before. 

You let your voice ring out in the space freely as you sang a song dear to your heart, one you wrote when you were younger. 

You’d always start warming up by singing it to yourself, never having the need to actually put it out into the world. 

You got into it, your eyes closed as you sang with a small smile on your face, the entire world around you disappearing shortly. 

In the distance, you heard footsteps and voices belonging to your bandmates and just as you opened your eyes, you looked through the glass on the door, a shadow slithered across the wall outside, disappearing around the corner.  

You squinted your eyes and stood up, putting your guitar aside and coming closer to the door. 

Just as you were about to reach towards the doorknob, the voices got louder. 

“Are we seriously doing this right now?” Janey asked, the tone of her voice angry. 

“I’m telling you, it was nothing! I don’t know who she is and why she’s texting me!” Steph defended herself as Janey scoffed.

“I’m sick of your excuses. I’m gonna give you one last chance to make it up to me and be truthful, but after that I’m done.” you stepped back as Janey came into view, opening the door angrily.

“Oh, y/n.” she widened her eyes slightly. “Good morning.” she added, scurrying past you to take her place behind the drum kit. 

Steph walked in with a scowl on her face, muttering a ‘morning’ before going straight to her bass guitar. 

It wasn’t the first time they fought or even broke up.

There were many times you had to be the mediator between them, trying to get them to communicate and even though it was frustrating, you didn’t want them to give up on their relationship easily and you couldn’t really take sides since they were both your friends. 

“Shall we?” you asked and they nodded. 

It took some warming up as always but soon you got into the groove, rehearsing for a small performance that was happening tonight.

You were excited because during the performance you planned to reveal your new song and see how people like it in person. 

The only thorn in your eye was the fact that Hyunjin’s band will be there too, performing right after yours. 

You were dreading to see him again, since that interview last week you had managed to avoid him skilfully, but you couldn’t hide forever. 

And even though your rehearsal went somewhat smoothly, there was tension in the air and you didn’t like that feeling.

It felt like a storm was coming and you weren’t sure if you’re ready to take it on. 

-

Evening came around quickly, everyone was already gathered backstage and you were dressed and ready, having rehearsed once more on the stage, tuning your guitars and getting ready for the most fun part. 

You peered from the back, seeing all the people gathering made your heart swell, a smile spreading on your face automatically. 

“Quite a turn out, huh?” 

Your eye literally twitched when you heard Hyunjin’s voice behind you, too close for comfort as his figure loomed over you and you felt the warmth of his body on your back.

You turned your head slightly as he peered down at you with that annoying smirk you absolutely hate. 

“Of course.” you said, squeezing your body between him and the curtain, ignoring him calling after you as you walked away as fast as you could.

You’re not gonna let him ruin tonight for you. 

It was time to go on stage anyways.

You and your girls did a little cheer as tradition before the performance, Ana coming up to hug you and wish you good luck. 

“Break a leg.” Hyunjin appeared out of nowhere and you only rolled your eyes before whipping around and almost smacking him with your hair as you made your way towards the stage. 

As soon as you walked out, loud screams filled up your ears and everything negative was forgotten and locked away in a drawer in the back of your mind. 

“Are you ready to rock tonight?!” you screamed out into the mic as the three of you took your positions. 

Hyunjin watched you from the side with an unreadable look on his face, but you weren’t even aware of it and you didn’t care. 

All you cared about was this moment. 

The moment where you get to share your love for music with thousands of people. 

It was exhilarating, watching the mass of bodies sway like one, hearing all the people singing the lyrics you wrote in unison. 

Nothing could compare to this and every time you stood under that light, you knew you were born for this. 

Giddy from everything, you skipped backstage once you finished playing the last song; which happened to be the new one and people more than loved it judging by their excited screams. 

“That was amazing!” Ana met you halfway, giving high fives to all three of you.

You were still trying to catch your breath as you giggled, when Hyunjin appeared next to you again. 

“Aren’t you gonna wish me good luck?” he smirked at you, shamelessly giving you the elevator eyes. 

“Good luck guys!” Janey yelled at all four members with a smile and a thumbs up but Hyunjin shook his head. 

“I want her to say it or I’m not going out on stage.” he crossed his arms on his chest, pouting and tapping his foot like a child about to throw a tantrum. 

“Come on, Hyun, we need to get out there!” Aiden, the band’s bassist called out. 

“Not moving until y/n wishes me good luck.” he quickly shook his head, his fluffy hair shaking with it and you thought how he resembled a dog; in more ways than one. 

“Fine you spoiled brat. Good luck.” you said sarcastically and he scoffed. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he smirked, leaning into your personal space again. 

“Get on the stage, Hyunjin.” you sighed and he chuckled in delight. 

“Watch me closely.” he winked before running off. 

“I can just cut the tension in the air with a knife.” Steph smirked at you, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“Oh, fuck off!” you said, smacking the back of her head as she cackled. 

You did end up watching Hyunjin’s band perform after refreshing yourself, but pretty soon you’ve come to regret that decision. 

He was wild while performing, stripping out of his jacket as he screamed into the mic, sweating under the bright lights pointed directly at him making him look like an insane glazed donut as he strutted around the stage acting all smug even though he tripped over his dumb long legs multiple times. 

He’d lean over towards his little groupies, holding their hand or caressing their faces, blowing them kisses and whatnot, all of that behavior making your gut churn in disgust. 

The last straw was when he laid down on his back and started humping the air while moaning into the mic. 

Even though the crowd screamed louder than before and the horny fans almost started hyperventilating, you felt second hand embarrassment at witnessing this. 

Hyunjin continued moaning before he threw his head back, his eyes locking with yours. 

A shiver ran down your spine as he smirked at you, all sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead, his piercings shining in the light, the veins on his neck visible and his cheeks red. 

A warmness spread in your navel as he winked, licking at his lip slowly, taunting you before he moaned extra loudly, the pornographic sound echoing in your ears. 

You frowned suddenly at your heart beating fast and your legs pressing together. 

What the fuck is wrong with me?, you thought, quickly shaking your head as he finally looked away from you and stood up. 

Of course, he got showered by multiple bras on stage, you think you even caught a glimpse of someone throwing their panties and you couldn’t watch anymore. 

It was truly disgusting. 

You quickly shoved past some staff members watching and gasping at whatever Hyunjin was doing now. 

Pushing past everyone, you made your way outside to get some fresh air in the hidden area behind backstage, where staff and musicians usually smoked or chilled after a performance. 

You greeted some of the staff before finding a spot where you could be alone. 

You were about to relax when you heard kissing sounds and as you turned to look around the corner you saw Steph kissing some random girl. 

You couldn’t contain the gasp that flew out of your mouth, making them jolt away from each other. 

Steph’s eyes widened when she saw you and you quickly spun around, noticing Janey had just walked outside too and started looking around. 

“Y/n, wait!” Steph yelled behind you. “It’s not what you think! Please, don’t tell Janey!” she looked at you desperately but you hated cheaters more than anything, seeing her betrayal with your own eyes broke any sort of connection you had with her. 

“Isn’t it? Your tongue was down some girl’s throat. Now, what do you call that?” you scoffed.

“What?” Janey appeared next to you, just as the girl who Steph was kissing before stood behind her. 

“It’s not like that, I-”

You could see Janey’s eyes filling up with tears. 

“That’s it, I’m done. With you and with the band. With everything.” you gasped when she said that, your eyes wide. 

“Janey, don’t be like that, it didn’t mean anything to me-” Steph started.

“Liar, you told me you’d leave her for me.” the girl behind Steph chimed in. 

“Oh, so this has been going on for some time?” Janey looked between Steph and the girl. 

“Let’s talk about this inside.” you tried to lead them in as people were whispering and looking at the four of you. 

“I have nothing else to say. I’m sorry, y/n. I can’t be a part of this band anymore when all it’s gonna do is remind me of this cheating whore.” Janey spat before turning around and leaving. 

“Okay, I deserve that but like I’m sorry that-”

“Save it, Steph. I can’t believe you did this. You put your desires over the well-being of our band. You do understand that your actions not only affect Janey, but also me, Ana and the rest of the record company?” you asked her, your blood boiling with anger. 

“I- I’m sorry, let me make it right. I’ll talk to Janey and she’ll forgive me once she understands-” 

“You think I want you to be part of the band after this? That’s rich.” you turned around too, in hopes of finding Janey. 

“Y/n, you can’t throw me out of the band!” Steph yelled behind you. 

“I just did.” you said coldly before opening the door and rushing into the backstage room. 

“Is Janey here?” you asked Ana and before she could answer, someone bumped into you rather strongly, making you stumble backwards a little.

You turned around angrily, noticing a very sweaty and breathless Hyunjin staring at you with a smile, his tongue lolling out of his lips as he played with his piercing. 

“So, did you like my performance?” he winked at you. “Did it get you excited?” the famous shit eating grin spread on his face as he leaned in closer to you, a few droplets of sweat dripping from his hair.

“I don’t have time for your games, Hyunjin. Please leave me alone.” you said annoyingly, noticing he had a bra hooked around his hand.

“What’s going on?” Ana asked, looking at you confusedly.

You were shaken up, the anger you felt manifesting into tears and you cursed yourself for being so emotional and quick to cry. 

“Woah, you’re crying!” Hyunjin stepped even closer to you but you’ve had enough of him. 

“Get away from me, asshole!” you channeled all your anger his way as you pressed your hands on his chest, pushing him away. 

Hyunjin stumbled with a gasp, a shocked look on his face. 

“What the hell is happening here?” Anthony quickly came to Hyunjin’s side as his bandmates watched everything unfold. 

“Ana, can we talk in private?” you glared once more at Hyunjin and she quickly nodded, hooking her arm with yours and taking you away from the scene. 

Hyunjin watched your figure disappear out of view with a deep frown on his face. 

-

It’s been a dreadful week.

You’ve tried talking to Janey multiple times, begging her to come back, promising to her that you wouldn’t let Steph come anywhere near her. 

Sadly, Janey was insistent on not wanting to continue with the band since lots of the songs were written by her and her now ex girlfriend who betrayed her in such an ugly way. 

You talked to Ana almost every day on the phone but you weren’t up for any visits, choosing instead to wallow in your sadness. 

Your band fell apart, your friends were no longer together, your album couldn’t be published and people were speculating, spreading rumors, you were getting numerous curious comments asking what happened to Venus Flytrap. 

You had no idea what to do at that moment. 

You just needed some time to yourself to figure out what your next step should be. 

You were lounging in your bed when your phone buzzed for the hundredth time.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed it and saw that you had a text message from an unknown number. 

???: hey there pretty girl! don’t be so sad! there are worse things than your band falling apart. 

you: what, like death? and who is this? 

???: your favorite person in the whole world<3 

you: hyunjin?? 

???: aw i knew i was your favorite!

You started seething immediately as you sat up, your heart beating fast instantly as you worked yourself up into annoyance.

You quickly put his contact under ‘asshole’. 

you: no, i knew that a conceited answer like that can only come from an asshole like you.

you: now, what do you want?

asshole: did you save my contact as asshole? or dickhead? which one is it?

you: wouldn’t you like to know. seriously what the hell do you want. i’ll block you if you don’t get on with it

asshole: just wanted to see if you maybe want to talk to someone

you: if i did, i wouldn’t choose you. have a nice day away from me hyunjin

Hyunjin didn’t answer your last text, instead he left you on read and you tossed your phone across your bed, now feeling even more infuriated than before. 

You squinted your eyes, grabbing your phone again and texting Ana.

you: did you give my number to hyunjin??

Ana: i’m sorry! he wouldn’t stop bugging me about it! pls don’t be mad

Just great. 

Why is he insisting on annoying you even when you feel down in the dumps, you thought, he always has to come in and make you feel even more mad. 

You were hoping that with your last text he’d finally leave you alone.

You also hoped you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon.

But boy, you couldn’t be more wrong.

-

“What?!” you yelled so loudly that it echoed off of the office walls.

“Y/n, please we don’t know any other solution. Lycoris Radiata is going to tour in 4 days and you’re the only person who knows their songs by heart. You can also kick ass with drums. And well, you’re kinda free now.” Anthony grimaced. 

“You can’t do this to me. I can’t spend so much time with Hwang Hyunjin!” you whined like a child, kicking your legs under the table as Ana gave you an apologetic look.

“Gossiping about me?” Hyunjin strolled in, with that annoying smirk, his hair in a little ponytail, showing more of his ear piercings and his sharp jawline. 

He took off his leather jacket, throwing it haphazardly on the chair before he plopped down into it. 

He spun around in the chair to face you as you looked at him with a scowl on your face.

Brendon, his guitarist and Aiden joined the meeting right after that.

“So, ready to be my new drummer?” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“Not a chance in hell.” 

“Y/n, please, we have no other choice! Phil had to leave so suddenly due to his sickness. We couldn’t be prepared for something like that. We can’t afford to postpone the tour now.” Brendon pleaded as Aiden nodded next to him. 

You leaned back into the chair, pursing your lips as you gave it a thought.

Of course they’d choose you. 

You knew their songs by heart since you shared so many tours together but you had your own bus and mostly ran into Hyunjin either backstage or at an afterparty but if you would become a part of his band you’d spend most of your time with him. 

But this could be good for you to give yourself time to decide what you wanna do next while touring with Lycoris Radiata. 

And since you were a multi instrumentalist, playing the drums wouldn’t be a problem for you.

You smirked suddenly before tilting your head at Hyunjin. 

“Fine. I will tour with you under one condition.” you said. 

“Anything!” Anthony piped in but you kept staring at Hyunjin. 

“I want you to beg.” your smirk deepened and Hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly, his fingers twitching against his thighs. 

“What?” he blinked repeatedly and you chuckled under your breath. 

“Beg me to join your band or I’m not doing it.” 

Hyunjin’s lips opened and closed a few times before he frowned.

“I don’t beg. I demand.” he smirked, taunting you.

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re in no position to have demands. However, I am. So if I want you to beg, Hyunjin, you’re gonna beg.” you sat up straight as he looked at you in pure shock. 

“My, my darling. I didn’t know you were this commanding. I kinda dig that.” he wiggled his eyebrows. 

“Any day now.” you were ready to stand up and leave. 

The room was eerily silent and Brendon opened his lips to speak up but Anthony grabbed his wrist and quickly shook his head. 

You could see the gears turning in Hyunjin’s head as he stared at you, and slowly but surely his cheeks became red as he closed his eyes in frustration.

“Pretty please, join my band and come on tour with us?” he said, rather quickly and you tsked. 

“Not convincing enough.” you enjoyed having the upper hand, the roles reversed as you pushed Hyunjin’s buttons. 

“What do you want me to do?! Kneel at your feet?” he whined.

“Maybe.” you shrugged. 

“Unbelievable! I’m the one doing you a favor anyways.” Hyunjin said, clearly annoyed and you were reveling in it. 

You wanted him to get the taste of his own medicine.

“Is that so?” you raised your eyebrow as he breathed hard. 

“Yes, your band is as good as dead right now, just like your career.” he said with a smug smirk, making everyone gasp. 

“Hyunjin!” Aiden scolded him and you stood up, feeling your eyes water as you lifted your hand, your palm colliding with Hyunjin’s cheek. 

The force of your slap turned his head right and he grabbed at his cheek immediately, his eyes wide, his face becoming red quickly.

“Fuck you!” you said angrily before turning around and leaving the room as tears started sliding down your cheeks. 

“Now look at what you did!” Anthony was mad and Hyunjin shrugged with a frown, realizing quickly that maybe he did cross a line.

“How could you say something like that to y/n?” Brendon asked, and Hyunjin looked at them, feeling dejected suddenly as he rubbed at his cheek. 

There was strength in your hands, that he was sure of. 

“I fucked up, okay! I didn’t mean to say that.” he shook his head. “I will make this right.” Hyunjin added, standing up. 

“Dude, I think you’re the last person y/n wants to see right now.” Aiden said. 

“But I have to apologize to her.” Hyunjin chewed on his lip, playing with his piercing as a nervous habit.

“I’ll go with you then.” Aiden nodded, standing up as well. 

“Fine.” Hyunjin sighed. 

You sat in the swinging chair on one of the many balconies of the building, letting your tears slip down your cheeks as the wind picked up, making you shiver. 

Hyunjin and Aiden found you pretty quickly and before Aiden could follow him to the balcony, Hyunjin smacked his hand on Aiden’s chest. 

“Please, just wait here.” 

“Fine, but if you provoke her again, I’m coming in.” Aiden sighed, shaking his head. 

The door of the balcony opened and in the corner of your eye you saw Hyunjin’s combat boots and his leather pants. 

“Go away.” you said quietly, sniffling and turning away from him.

Hyunjin stood frozen for a moment, holding his jacket in his hand and you took that time to quickly wipe away your tears. 

You didn’t want to look weak in front of your enemy. 

Footsteps approached and suddenly you felt a weight on your shoulders and back. 

You looked down, realizing that Hyunjin had put his jacket around you and it smelled like cigarettes mixed with cologne he always wears and something distinctly him. 

You took a deep breath and for some reason, calmness settled all over your body. 

“I’m really sorry for what I said back there. It was way out of line.”

You didn’t say anything, still refusing to look at him. 

“And I’m sorry about your band. I know that must be hard to go through. I feel bad that my drummer had to leave, I don’t know how I’d feel if-”

“Are you done?” you turned to look at him and his lips pressed together. 

“I don’t care how you feel, Hyunjin. Just like you didn’t care about hurting me moments ago.” you stood up, ready to throw his jacket away. 

“Well, I apologized!” he threw his hands up, rolling his eyes. “Though, I’m glad I have that effect on you, I didn’t know you cared so much about what I think or say.” he smirked suddenly. 

You were tempted to slap his other cheek at that moment, and Aiden must’ve sensed it so he walked out to the balcony. 

“Are we okay?” he asked, gulping. 

“Not until he apologizes properly.” you crossed your arms with a smirk, and he knew exactly what you meant.

“Ugh! This is the first and last time I get on my knees for you.” Hyunjin said annoyingly as he kneeled down and you chuckled in delight. 

“I’m sorry for being an asshole and if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d be honored for you to join my band.” he batted his eyelashes at you. 

“Mm…” you pursed your lips, acting like you were contemplating it as he rolled his eyes again. 

“Fine. I accept.” you shrugged and Hyunjin stood up quickly with a smile.

“Welcome to the band, sweetheart!” he smirked, opening his arms for a hug and you quickly dodged under his arm and slithered away. 

“You’re welcome.” you smirked back, grabbing his jacket and throwing it at him.

He caught it just as you walked back into the hallway, grinning to himself as you walked away. 

“She wants me so bad.” Hyunjin said as Aiden’s eyebrows lifted comically. 

“I think she wants to kill you.” he said and Hyunjin chuckled, smacking Aiden’s shoulder and grabbing him. 

“I know what chicks like, okay?” 

“You also know that y/n isn’t one of your little groupies?” Aiden sighed.

“I know, don’t worry. She’s special.” Hyunjin smiled, hugging his jacket to his chest, getting a whiff of your perfume that stayed on it.

Aiden shook his head with a chuckle. 

This is gonna be one hell of a tour. 

-

The party was in full swing. 

That morning you had packed for the tour, your stomach swirling with nerves so much that you thought you’d throw up. 

You were actually going on tour with Lycoris Radiata, for at least six months. 

A lot can happen in that amount of time and while you were nervous to spend so much time with the infuriating and annoying asshole aka Hwang Hyunjin, you were also excited for the new experience and the places you’ll get to see.

Of course, you couldn’t leave without attending a ‘have an amazing tour’ party that was mostly exclusive only for staff and a few other people. 

You were on your second glass of beer as you sat at the bar, the cold bitter liquid not calming you down as it should. 

Hyunjin was having a jolly old time, entertaining some girls of course and if you had rolled your eyes any harder, they’d get stuck in the back of your head. 

“Don’t take that to heart.” Aiden suddenly appeared next to you.

“What?” you chuckled awkwardly, shaking away your thoughts.

“Hyunjin flirting like that. He’s a lot of talk, more than anything else.”

“Why would I care if he flirts with some random girls?” you frowned. “It’s none of my business.”

“Right.” Aiden pursed his lips. “Well, I’m gonna go find Anthony.”

“Sure.” you shrugged, your eyes flying back to Hyunjin and the girls who were salivating all over him. 

He was showing them his biceps and they were touching him like they’ve never seen a human arm in their life. 

You scoffed, shaking your head when a voice behind you startled you. 

“Now, why is a pretty lady such as yourself sitting all alone?” 

You turned around with your eyebrow lifted, coming face to face with a stranger. 

“Because it’s her choice.” you answered.

“Oh, feisty and pretty? That’s a fun combo.” the guy smirked, his arm leaning on your chair, almost hugging your waist as he got closer to you. 

Your nose scrunched up, he smelled of alcohol and you really wanted him to leave you alone. 

“I’m pretty boring, trust me.” you said.

“Oh, I don’t believe that. In fact, I think if you were to let me take you home tonight, you and I could have so much fun.” he smirked and you were pretty sure you barfed in your mouth a little.

“No, thank you.” you said sarcastically. 

He chuckled, placing his arms around you.

You were completely unaware of Hyunjin who was keeping an eye on you and the suspicious guy. 

As soon as the man placed his hands on you, Hyunjin pushed the girl he was talking to aside, his heavy combat boots taking him right to you and the disturbance in your personal space.

“I don’t really take no for an answer.” he said and your heart sank momentarily. 

“Back off man!” you tried to push him away but he wasn’t budging.

Suddenly the guy was ripped away from you with such force that it pulled you to your feet.

You grabbed at the bar to steady yourself and gasped just in time to see Hyunjin swinging his fist at the man. 

“Oh my god!” you almost screamed, your eyes wide as the guy fell to the floor instantly. 

People quickly gathered around and Anthony was trying to push them away so he could grab Hyunjin. 

“The lady said no, you fucking dirtbag!” Hyunjin said, swinging at the man again. 

“Oh my god, Hyunjin! Stop, it’s okay, please!” you panicked, never seeing him this angry or violent. 

“Hwang! Enough!” Anthony yelled, grabbing Hyunjin’s arms and lifting him up as he fought against his manager, still trying to punch the man who was now laying on the floor with his face completely bloody. 

You kept looking at Hyunjin with a shocked expression as he breathed hard, his face red and sweaty from anger, the veins on his neck and forehead popping out.

“I stopped, now let me go.” he said through his teeth as someone lifted up the unconscious guy.

“Hyunjin, if this gets out to the press it could turn into a fucking shitstorm! What the hell is wrong with you?!” Anthony yelled angrily as Hyunjin stood with his fists still clenched. 

“He made y/n uncomfortable and he deserved it.” Hyunjin answered before turning towards you. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes softening as you stared at him in disbelief.

“I-I’m fine.”

“Good. I’m done with this party.” Hyunjin said, turning on his heel and grabbing his jacket before he walked out, leaving you standing there still trying to process what the hell just happened.

-

You were half asleep when Ana drove you to the tour bus. 

You barely slept last night, tossing and turning in your bed as the images of Hyunjin punching that guy from the party kept swimming in your head. 

Never has a man defended you like that and you’ve never seen Hyunjin look so livid before. 

He was usually either smirking, laughing or being a menace, ready to always annoy you but you’ve never seen him actually angry.

It was kind of… hot, you thought before shaking it off.

You wondered why he reacted like that.

“You okay?” Ana snapped you out of your vegetative state as you sank in the passenger seat, arms crossed and hood over your head. 

“Hm? Yeah, just sleepy.” you sat up and looked around. 

The sun wasn’t even up yet. 

“You can continue sleeping on the tour bus. We’re here.” she chuckled. 

“Oh, goody.” you sighed before opening the door and walking out.

“Morning, ladies.” Anthony all but ran up to Ana, helping her with yours and her bags since she’d be joining you too. 

“Morning? It’s still night.” you checked your phone, seeing it was 4:13am. 

“Not where I come from. You see-” Anthony started.

“Okay, I’m too asleep to listen to this.” you shook your head before strolling towards the bus. 

You were about to just climb in and go straight to the nearest bed you could find but you heard some quiet music coming from behind the back of the bus. 

You approached slowly and peeked around to see Hyunjin leaning on the wall, smoking and listening to some quiet music. 

He looked up instantly, seeming like a deer caught in headlights for a short moment. 

“Remembered to put on a jacket?” he smirked. 

“Ha ha. Very funny.” you said and he shrugged, looking away and turning the music off. 

As he brought his cigarette to his lips, you noticed his knuckles were red and injured. 

“I guess I should thank you for last night.” you said quietly, swinging on your feet awkwardly as you dug your hands in your pockets. 

“It was nothing.” he shook his head quickly. 

“I wouldn’t call that nothing.” you motioned to his hand. 

“This?” he looked at his hand and chuckled. “You should see the other guy.” he winked at you, making you roll your eyes. 

“Clever.” 

“Come to think of it, it does hurt a bit. Wanna kiss it better?” Hyunjin smirked, puffing the smoke out. 

“Bite me.” you gave him the middle finger as he laughed, the sound ringing out in the quiet early hours.

“I might. If you ask nicely.” he said with that smug expression of his.

“I’m going inside.” you shivered, realizing how cold it actually was, ignoring his witty quips. 

“I’m right behind ya.” he threw his cigarette on the floor before stepping on it. 

Your heart started beating fast out of nowhere as his heavy boots stomped behind you, the sound escorting you to the entrance of the bus. 

“Oh wow.” your eyes widened as you looked around the living/kitchen area. 

“You like?” Hyunjin leaned over your shoulder and you jolted away from him, making him snicker. 

“Yeah, it’s… not what I expected. It looks more cozy than I thought it would.” you nodded.

“You should thank the interior designer.” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“And who might that be?” you asked, making your way to the bunk bed area. 

“Oh, just a guy. He takes payment in kisses.” Hyunjin bumped into you as you stopped. 

“Is that guy maybe you?” you turned around, not realizing immediately just how close Hyunjin was to you. 

“Maybe it is.” he leaned towards you with a smirk and you squealed a little, stepping away from him.

“Give it up. I’m taking the top bunk bed.” you pointed to the left side. 

“Not fair! I always take that one!” Hyunjin pouted.

“Tough luck, I called it first.” you smirked, taking off your jacket and throwing it up on the bed. 

“Or… we can both sleep up there?” Hyunjin said and you scoffed, pushing him away. 

“Like hell!” 

“Are y’all fighting this early?” Brendon came in, looking confused and disheveled. 

“No, it’s foreplay.” Hyunjin wiggled his eyebrows and you made gagging noises. 

“Here’s your bag, y/n.” Ana appeared with your luggage. 

Aiden and Anthony came in after and everyone took some time to unpack and get settled. 

“I heard we have two pretty ladies with us, so you fellas gotta behave now.” you heard an unknown voice and leaned over to see who it belonged to.

“Oh, we always behave, Stu.” Hyunjin smirked. 

“Yes, especially you.” the man, Stu, rolled his eyes. 

“This is our main driver Stu.” Aiden introduced you and Ana to him. 

“Pleasure to meet you ladies. Hopefully the road won’t be too bumpy.” he winked before turning around and leaving. 

“Where is Bradley?” Anthony piped in suddenly.

“Who’s Bradley?” you asked, at this moment you just wanted to get everything over with and catch up on some sleep.

“Our sound guy.” Brendon answered. “And lights guy. He is underpaid and overworked, basically.” he added, giving Anthony a pointed look. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault Mike quit!” he lifted his hands up. “Besides, we’re picking someone up in the next town over. He’ll be our roadie along with Bradley.” 

As they started discussing, you slipped away to the bathroom, where you could change in peace and get ready for bed. 

You leaned on the counter, staring at yourself in the mirror as you listened to the muffled voices talking. 

Were you doing the right thing? 

Accepting to join another band when your heart still hurts from the sudden falling apart between your friends and band members… 

“Y/n, I need the bathroom!” Hyunjin’s voice brought you back to reality and you stood up straight. 

“I’m not done yet!” you yelled back. “You have another bathroom!” you added annoyingly, preparing to brush your teeth. 

“Aiden hogged it. Are you naked or something? Cause I swear I don’t mind.” 

You could just hear the smirk in his voice. 

Rolling your eyes, you opened the door and Hyunjin gave you the elevator eyes and they lingered on your legs in the shorts you put on, going up to your chest and lingering again before he looked up at your face. 

He was playing with his lip ring again, his cheeks rosy. 

“What do you want?” you spat.

“Just wanna brush my teeth.” he looked at you smugly. 

You didn’t say anything, just stepped aside and continued brushing your teeth. 

You opted to leave the door opened since it felt awkward to have them closed. 

“Isn’t this fun, us brushing our teeth together? It’s kinda domestic, don’t you think?” Hyunjin said suddenly, the familiar smirk on his face. 

“Yes, thrilling.” you answered sarcastically. “You don’t have to act nice, Hyunjin. Everyone knows we hate each other so let’s just not talk too much and try to coexist peacefully for the sake of everyone else on this tour.”

Hyunjin opened his mouth to answer but you quickly turned around and left, not wanting to get into it with him when you were tired and nervous. 

He smirked to himself, shaking his head. 

The only thing stuck in his brain at that moment was the way you said his name. 

God, he loved it. 

-

You slept for a few hours only, waking up early yet again as the bus rolled to a stop at a diner. 

“Rise and shine, princess.” Hyunjin’s head popped up in front of you as he held onto your bed.

“Fuck off.” you grabbed your pillow and smacked him with it, almost making him fall down but he managed to land on his feet. 

You heard a smack and Hyunjin saying ‘ow’ quietly before Aiden said,

“Come down if you’re hungry.” 

You chuckled to yourself, waiting for them to leave so you could get ready.

Of course, as soon as you sat down in a booth, Hyunjin pushed Brendon aside and quickly slid next to you. 

“Oh my god.” you rolled your eyes. 

You were squished between him and Ana on your other side, and he was too close for comfort. 

You could feel the heat of his body and smell the scent of his shampoo and body wash mixed with cigarettes. 

You tried to ignore the feelings stirring in your gut as you ordered.

“So, how did you like sleeping on top of me?” Hyunjin smirked, tilting his head. 

“Not as much as you liked sleeping under me, weirdo.” you scoffed at him and he chuckled.

“I liked it very much, so that must mean you liked it at least a little.” he said as the food arrived and your stomach growled. 

“Whatever you say.” you brushed him off and started to dig in. 

“We’re close to our first destination.” Anthony started after a sip of coffee. “We will arrive around 4pm and have lunch, then we get ready and do the soundcheck. Questions?”

Everyone shook their heads no. 

You suddenly felt nervous tingles running up your spine, and for some reason Hyunjin felt it. 

“Don’t worry princess, you’ll do great.” he smirked, placing his hand on top of your wrist. 

You snatched your hand away and looked at him. 

“I know I will, I was just wondering if you’ll be able to keep up with me.” you smirked back at him. 

“You’ll be surprised at how well I can keep up, baby.” Hyunjin leaned into your personal space, his eyes boring into yours and you felt your cheeks burning.

“Be nice, you two.” Ana chuckled.

“What? I haven't called him an asshole yet. Emphasis on yet.” 

Hyunjin laughed next to you, his arm brushing against yours.

Oh, he is so going to enjoy this.

-

It was such a good, familiar feeling to sit behind a drum kit after being the main vocalist and guitarist of your band for so long. 

The venue was empty at this moment and the sound of the drums echoing in the space was grand. 

You closed your eyes and started playing a groove to get into the mood and Hyunjin was lured towards the stage instantly. 

He watched you in awe even though he saw you play the drums before, they never had the name of his band on the front of them. 

Hyunjin felt proud; that his band has come so far and honored that you were now a part of their story. 

He hoped you’d enjoy the tour and judging by the blissful look on your face, you were off to a good start. 

“Let’s go, Hyun.” Brendon smacked his shoulder, pulling him back to reality. 

It was time for the soundcheck, and when everyone was finally on stage, tuning their instruments, you realized that this is real. 

Excitement replaced any nerves you had and you were ready to tear the stage apart. 

“Let’s jam a little.” Aiden smiled as everyone agreed.

He started to play a melody on his bass so you followed him with the drums.

You were so focused on grooving that you didn’t notice Hyunjin winking at his two other band members.

When it was time for him to start playing his guitar, Hyunjin decided to play totally out of tune. 

You looked up at him with your brows furrowed as you tried to follow him.

He changed it up suddenly, that familiar shit eating grin spreading on his face as you followed him yet again. 

Brendon and Aiden stopped playing as they observed the two of you, battling it out with your instruments. 

Hyunjin was trying hard to get on your nerves, push your buttons but you weren’t gonna let him in. 

“Having some trouble following, princess?” he yelled over the noise. 

You looked at him pointedly as he started to play another melody that made no sense and you’ve had enough. 

Hyunjin had a way of getting under your skin and he obviously knew that. 

Your arm lifted up on its own accord and you swung one of your drumsticks right at Hyunjin, aiming for his empty head. 

His eyes widened and he managed to dodge it in a close second as the drumstick clattered on the floor. 

“Ha! Attempted murder! Y’all saw that!” he pointed at you, while looking at his friends and you started laughing. 

“Don’t worry, even if it did hit your head, it couldn’t damage it more than it already is.” you smirked as Hyunjin huffed. 

“Oh baby, keep talking. Degradation is my thing.” he motioned towards his ear with his fingers and you made a disgusted face at him. 

Of course, the asshole laughed at your expression. 

“Guys, can we actually practice?” Brendon chimed in as Aiden nodded. 

Instead of answering verbally, you started playing so everyone joined in. 

-

“Are you nervous?” Aiden asked as the venue filled up and it all became real.

“Nope, I’m ecstatic!” you answered, twirling your drumstick in your hand. 

“Trying to murder me once again?” Hyunjin appeared next to you as you almost hit him with it.

“Trust me, if I was trying to kill you, you’d already be dead.” 

“Nobody’s killing anyone, we’re already short on staff.” Anthony smirked before putting his arms around Hyunjin and Brendon’s shoulders. 

“Good luck guys! And y/n, of course. I know y’all will do great.” Anthony smiled. 

Ana came up to you to hug you. 

“Good luck, babe!” she smiled. 

“Thank you.” you gave her a bone crushing hug, she was always like a sister to you and having her here now meant a lot to you. 

As soon as you walked out on stage, the screams of all the people that came to see you perform were deafening but heartwarming. 

Hyunjin was the main character on stage, that you were convinced of as whatever he did resulted in even louder screaming. 

You didn’t mind being the backbone of the band, playing drums to you was a meditative and transcending experience and anything you were angry or upset about, you could take it out while playing. 

Performing with Lycoris Radiata was fun as fuck, even more than you hoped for; seeing Hyunjin up close made you realize just why people loved him so much. 

He was charismatic, cool and lame at the same time, ethereally beautiful and down to earth, fun but sensitive, alluring but cute, he gave his all and more. 

He was everything wrapped up in one and you wondered how that was possible. 

A particular moment struck you; when you were playing a slower song, Hyunjin sang so delicately, his back turned to you as the lights beamed down on his frame, his sweaty hair and skin making him look like he was glowing. 

Your heart skipped a beat but you ignored it. 

Near the end of the show, Hyunjin did his usual routine which consisted of making everyone’s panties wet; it was time for the sex song he always sang near the end which made you feel embarrassed and uncomfortable but something about being on stage with them got you in the right mood for it.

The part came up; and Hyunjin was on the floor, moaning and humping the air as you followed his moans with the heavy sound of your drums. 

Hyunjin smirked, throwing his head back to look at you as he continued his ministrations and you continued following him on the drums. 

Aiden and Brendon joined in as Hyunjin became louder, resulting in you hitting the drums harder as the sounds all came together in a crescendo. 

You wished that you could press your thighs together to create pressure and friction because the whole thing managed to get you wet too. 

A part of you felt ashamed but you didn’t give a flying fuck in that moment, completely letting go of everything as the four of you continued jamming together. 

Hyunjin stood up with the biggest smile on his face, winking at you as he ran a lap around the stage before literally diving into the audience. 

You gasped to yourself but continued playing the outro to the performance while Hyunjin was being groped by horny fanboys and fangirls. 

Security was there to pull him back up on stage safely and Hyunjin sang the end of the song before screaming a ‘thank you’ into the mic. 

After all four of you bowed a hundred times, you finally ran backstage where a very sweaty Hyunjin started hugging everyone, eventually coming up to you. 

“Don’t even think about it.” you said as he opened his arms. 

“Not thinking, just doing it.” he smirked and before you could run away, his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you into his body. 

“Ew!” you squirmed against him and he chuckled. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” he held you tighter and your heart leaped out of your chest. 

The bastard smelled so good even after sweating so much and it annoyed you how seemingly perfect he was. 

“What, a gross sweaty man slobbering all over me?” you scrunched up your face as you finally pushed him away.

“I wasn’t slobbering but if you’re into that-”

“Please shut up while I’m still in a good mood.” you stopped him and he laughed. 

“It’s so fun messing with you, darling.” Hyunjin ruffled your hair as you practically hissed at him, making him laugh again. 

“You guys were fucking amazing!” Anthony yelled excitedly. 

“I don’t know about you but I need some food.” Aiden piped in. 

“I’m feeling thirsty, honestly.” Brendon added.

“Are we partying or what?” Hyunjin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Hell yeah, we are!” Anthony high-fived him. 

You ended up having the afterparty in the bus, ordering some food and acquiring some beer as you sat around in the living space. 

Of course, as soon as you walked in, you ran for the shower, with Hyunjin cascading behind you and asking if he could join you because “it’ll be done faster”. 

“Dream about it, asshole!” you yelled before closing the bathroom door. 

“Oh, I do.” Hyunjin smirked to himself, but you didn’t hear him. 

The excitement of the performance slowly washed away from your body along with Hyunjin’s scent that lingered after he hugged you, and you felt happy and cozy. 

All of you finally settled down to eat and Hyunjin claimed the spot next to you, of course, his long slender fingers stealing your fries constantly.

“Will you back off! You have your own fries.” you slapped his arm as he whined. 

“Yours are tastier.” he claimed with that familiar smirk of his.

“Are they now?” you smirked back. 

“Mhm.” he nodded pointedly.

“Let’s see then.” you grabbed your box and dumped all your fries into his box before mixing them up. “Pick one up and distinguish if it’s from your box or mine.”

Hyunjin stared at you with his lips parted before he smiled. 

“Aw, we’re sharing.” he said and continued eating as you heard some chuckles around the table. 

“For fucks sake.” you muttered, shaking your head.

The rest of the night was full of chatter and laughter, and you didn’t mind Hyunjin’s arm or leg brushing against you ever so often, or his loud laughter ringing in your ears or him constantly poking at you. 

It’s barely been one day on tour and he wasn’t as unbearable as you thought he’d be. 

Everyone was tired and you had to hit the road so it was finally peaceful, before a loud scream startled everyone.

“Oh no, I am going to die!” Hyunjin wailed dramatically.

“What’s wrong with him?” you rolled your eyes as Aiden came in. 

“He lost his teddy bear.” 

“He what?” you chuckled in disbelief.

“Hyunjin’s teddy, he always takes it with him. He’s had it since he was a baby and he’s convinced it brings him luck.” Aiden shrugged and Hyunjin ran into the living area.

“We are doomed!” he said, grabbing your arms and shaking you. 

“Calm down, it must be around here somewhere.” you sighed.

“Help me look?” Hyunjin batted his eyelashes at you as Aiden slipped away.

“Hyunjin, I’m tired, I need to get some sleep.” you whined. 

“Me too! But I can’t sleep without my teddy.” he said, you couldn’t believe he was serious. “I will crawl up to your bunk and annoy you all night if you don’t help me look.” he added, smirking.

“Fine, I’ll help you.” you rolled your eyes.

“Wow, you don’t want me in your bed at all?” he kept smirking. 

“Zip it. Let’s find your precious teddy.”

“Yes!” Hyunjin scurried after you as the two of you basically did a search and rescue mission for his favorite plush. 

Eventually, you walked into the other bathroom, finding the old teddy sitting on the counter.

“There you are.” you picked up, chuckling at the state of it. 

You couldn’t help it as you sniffed the teddy and sure enough it smelled just like its owner. 

“Found it!” you yelled and Hyunjin bursted in, panting and smiling. 

“Oh my god!” he exclaimed, grabbing the teddy and then you as he enveloped you in a hug for the second time that night. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Hyunjin held you tightly and you chuckled. 

“Alright, you’re thankful, I get it. You can let go now.” you said, patting his back. 

“I owe you.” he muttered.

“I really didn’t do anything.” 

“You did, trust me.” he smiled. 

As you laid in your bunk bed that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about Hyunjin. 

He seemed somehow different or you were just now seeing different sides of him that you didn’t see before. 

You didn’t hate him completely. 

-

Ten days on tour and things were going great. 

Every show was better than the last one, every venue bigger than the last one, every note played made Lycoris Radiata mean more and more to you. 

Tonight was no exception as you ripped the stage once again, this time Hyunjin ended up lifting Aiden and spinning him at the end which almost made the poor man throw up from excitement. 

“This was Lycoris Radiata, see you next time!” and with that you ran backstage where Hyunjin had to hug everyone, even asking for a group hug. 

You had to humor him. 

When your head finally hit the pillow, you couldn’t sleep even though you were exhausted. 

You kept replaying one particular moment from the show in your head. 

It was while Hyunjin was singing his famous sex song, before the moaning part, he came up to you and sang while looking at you. 

You kept playing and looking at him intently as he sang the lewd lyrics right into your face. 

Before he took off, Hyunjin lifted his hand, making a V shape with his fingers, doing the licking motion between them, his tongue piercing shining in the big stage light. 

Your mouth fell agape for a moment as you felt hotness spread all over your body and he smirked smugly when you made a tiny mistake in your playing. 

People didn’t notice but he did. 

And he was satisfied with it. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about it, and it had been a while since you’ve had a little ‘you time’ but it was hard to do that with so many people in the bus. 

Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed, hearing some shuffling beneath you. 

“Y/n?” Hyunjin suddenly climbed up into your bed, startling you as you sat up and turned on the little light inside. 

“W-what are you doing?” 

“I can’t sleep. And I figured you weren’t sleeping either.” Hyunjin whispered.

“And how did you figure that?” you clutched your blanket. 

“You sighed like a hundred times.” he chuckled quietly.

“What do you want?” you rolled your eyes with a smile. 

“To hang out.” he pulled out a deck of cards out of nowhere. 

“We can’t make too much noise, we’ll wake everyone up.” you shook your head. 

“Fine then we’ll do something quiet.” Hyunjin smirked, tossing the cards aside and laying down next to you, his eyes closing.

“Turn the light off, sweetheart.” he cracked one eye open as you stared at him in disbelief. 

“You are not sleeping in my bunk. Go back downstairs.” you whispered.

“No.” he answered simply. 

“Hyunjin, I’m warning you, I will push you down.”

“Will you? You’ll wake up the whole bus.” he smirked. 

“God, you’re so annoying!” you whisper-yelled, giving up as you laid down, turning away from Hyunjin. 

“Be nice and share your blanket.” Hyunjin’s breath hit the back of your neck, making you shiver as goosebumps rose on your skin. 

“Need anything else?” you muttered as he hogged your blanket and your personal space. 

“A goodnight kiss?” Hyunjin leaned over you, peering at your face hopefully.

You gave him the side eye and he chuckled. 

“Maybe some other time, hm?” he asked. 

“Go to sleep.” you said and he laid down behind you. 

“Goodnight, darling.” Hyunjin wanted to reach out and touch your hair but he figured you’d probably break his arm. 

You didn’t answer, your heart beating so hard that you were afraid it was shaking the bed and Hyunjin could feel it. 

You quickly turned off the light and tried to calm down.

There was enough space to where he wasn’t touching you but you felt his warmth, his scent, his breath on your skin.

It was driving you crazy and making you feel calm at the same time. 

You managed to fall asleep somehow.

-

At some point, in the middle of the night, Hyunjin and you gravitated closer to each other and you ended up in his arms. 

When you slowly blinked your eyes open and realized you were staring straight at Hyunjin’s chest, you jolted away from him, making him groan quietly. 

“Where you goin’?” he mumbled into your pillow, trying to grab you.

“As far as I can from you.” you said, wiggling out of his arm that eventually caught you as he groaned again.

“Something’s poking my ass.” Hyunjin gasped when he rolled over and you laughed. 

“It’s the cards, you idiot.” rolling your eyes, you left the bunk feeling embarrassed and insane as your face heated up. 

What are you doing, sleeping in the same bed as Hyunjin?

You hate him, right?

You weren’t so sure anymore. 

Yes, he was annoying but somehow that became kind of endearing. 

He has bugged you every single day since the tour started and if he suddenly stopped, it’d feel weird. 

You sighed, shaking off your thoughts as you grabbed your phone, munching on your breakfast. 

“Morning, y/n. Tell me am I crazy or did Hyunjin sleep over in your bunk?” Ana smirked at you as she brought two coffees. 

“You are crazy. But yes, he slept in my bunk.” you said. 

“Interesting.” she smirked, lifting one eyebrow up. 

“Hey, I saw you sleeping in Anthony’s bunk multiple times. What’s that about?” you teased as you opened up your insta. 

“Well, everyone knows we have a thing for each other. You and Hyunjin though… oh yeah, you have a thing too.” 

“We don’t have a thing.” you quickly said as Ana chuckled. 

“Right. Mhm.” 

You continued scrolling, and that’s when you noticed it; the hate comments on your posts. 

‘She’s just a slut who’s after Hyunjin’

‘She’s delusional if she thinks he’d like her like she’s ugly lmao’

‘Untalented bitch’

‘Get her away from my Hyunjin’

‘She deserved her band falling apart they were shit anyways’

‘Y/n should retire from the music scene’

Your eyes started stinging with tears as you skimmed through the comment section. 

“What’s wrong?” Ana tilted her head to look at you. 

You slid your phone to her and she gasped. 

“You know these people are probably some jealous, unsuccessful suckers.” she said. 

“I need some air.” you sucked in a breath before hurriedly leaving the bus. 

“What’s with her?” Hyunjin walked in. “Is she mad at me?”

“No, look.” Ana showed him your phone. 

Hyunjin frowned instantly, running out of the bus after you. 

You stood not too far away with a cigarette in your hand as you hugged yourself with your other arm and Hyunjin’s eyes softened when he saw you shivering in the wind.

“I knew you’d forget to bring a jacket.” Hyunjin put his leather jacket around you, smoothing his hand over your back a few times. 

You exhaled a puff of smoke, not answering him as you melted into his big jacket. 

Hyunjin took out a cigarette for himself and you reached out with your lighter, lighting it up as he smirked. 

“Since when do you smoke?” he asked.

“Well, I’m feeling extra stressed right now so I needed something to take the edge off.” you shrugged. 

“Because of the comments?” 

“I don’t wanna talk about them.” 

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin sighed. 

“It’s not your fault.” you said. 

“I feel like it is.” 

Hyunjin was standing so close to you that his arm was touching yours while both of you continued smoking.

You stood silently next to each other for a few more moments as the clouds passed you by, and slowly but surely Hyunjin closed the gap between your hands as he  touched yours briefly before he wrapped his pinky around yours. 

“Hey, you know I’m honored you’re part of my band.” his tone was serious and you couldn’t bear to look at him or you’d burst into tears. 

“I know.” you smiled as you kept looking into the distance. 

He smiled too, his eyes focused on you.

Hyunjin had your back; and that was a pinky promise.

-

Finally, you arrived to your next destination, and you’d be there for a few days which meant you had to check into a hotel. 

You were glad to have some time to yourself, you needed a real shower and a real bed and just some time to get away from everything, recharge your batteries. 

You just finished with your shower and skincare when your phone annoyed you, buzzing with texts constantly. 

When you grabbed it you realized that you forgot to change Hyunjin’s name from ‘asshole’. 

You laughed to yourself, deciding to just add a little heart at the end. 

asshole<3: y/n what are you doing

asshole<3: why aren’t you answering

asshole<3: i’m BOREEEED

asshole<3: y/n!!!! 

asshole<3: princess?

asshole<3: i’m coming to your room

“Shit!” you exclaimed just in time when Hyunjin knocked on your door.

“Go away, Hyunjin!” you yelled on the other side. 

“Never! I will wake the whole damn floor if you don’t open this door.” he banged against it. 

“Spoiled brat.” you muttered to yourself before opening the door. 

“Oh.” Hyunjin looked you up and down, your hair still wet from the shower, your little nightgown accentuating all your goodies. 

“Did you dress up for me?” he smirked as his tongue darted out to play with his lip piercing; a habit you picked up on.

“Oh yeah, I was just waiting for you to come knocking on my door.” you answered sarcastically.

“Oh come on, I brought snacks.” he lifted up a few bags. 

“You should’ve said that first.” you stepped aside, letting him in. 

“So, are you here just because you’re bored?” you scoffed as he practically skipped to your bed before throwing himself on it. 

“No, I’m here cause I know you miss me.” he smirked at you. “I spared you the walk to my room, princess.” 

“Oh yeah, I am the one who missed you.” you said pointedly. 

“I know you are.” he wiggled his eyebrows and you groaned, throwing a pillow at him but the slick bastard caught it. 

“I’m gonna change into something else.” you said, feeling a bit self-conscious. 

“Into what? After that outfit, the only logical thing is to have nothing on.”

“Wouldn’t you like that?” you snickered. 

“I would.” he smirked. 

“Changing right now!” you left for the bathroom to put on some actual pjs. 

“Don’t cross this line, Hyunjin.” you pointed as the two of you settled in your bed, ready to watch a movie and snack. 

He smiled his shit eating grin and put his finger over the line. 

“Whoops, crossed it.”

“Next time you lose a finger.” you threatened.

“Where is it gonna be misplaced?” he smirked. 

“Not where you think.”

“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” he leaned closer to you. “But I can show you.”

“No thanks. Just watch the movie.” 

It was quiet for some time until Hyunjin spoke up. 

“I’m thinking of getting another tattoo.”

“Oh?” you didn’t take your eyes off the screen. “Where?”

“My back. I wanna finish what I started with my arm and shoulder.” he answered. 

“Which is?” you looked at him and he smirked. 

“Glad you asked.” he said, taking his shirt off. 

“Woah, woah, what are you doing?” you jolted as he tossed it aside. 

“Showing you my tattoos.” he giggled. “See, it’s one big picture. I sketched the original on my paper, it’s a flower’s life story. From a little seed all the way to the dust it becomes after it wilts forever. It’s not finished yet though.” he turned and you gulped. 

“That’s a beautiful thought actually.” 

“Feel the flowers.” Hyunjin turned his shoulder to you. 

“I’m not gonna touch your tattoos.” you said. 

“Come on, you know you want to.” he taunted you. 

“No, I don’t.” you shook your head. 

“Yes, you do. You started ogling me as soon as I took my shirt off.”

“That’s because of your musc- nothing, nevermind.” you quickly caught yourself, biting your tongue as your face started burning. 

“Because of what? My muscles? You like them?” he started flexing immediately.

“That’s disgusting, stop acting like that.” you slapped his arm without thinking and you both froze. 

“Oh.” Hyunjin smirked before taking your hand in his. “Really, I want you to feel my tattoos.” 

“Fine if it gets you to shut up.” 

Your fingers gently traced the delicate art on Hyunjin’s skin, starting from his wrist up his arm as you watched goosebumps rise on his skin. 

You took your time to trace every leaf and petal as Hyunjin looked at you intently, his breaths coming out shaky as you traced over his arm, your fingers swirling with the intricate patterns. 

Your hand came up to his shoulder as you continued tracing, his skin was so smooth and he was so warm under your touch. 

“Y/n.” Hyunjin whispered, his hand covering yours as he leaned in closer to you, his eyelids hooded. 

Your eyes widened when you realized he was about to kiss you and you quickly moved away. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” you stood up and Hyunjin frowned at you. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?!” 

“Trying to get into my pants!” you scoffed. “I think you should sleep in your room.”

“B-but, it’s not like that!” Hyunjin stood up and you backed away.

“I know what it’s like. Please leave.” 

“Fine.” Hyunjin looked dejected as he grabbed his phone and shirt. “Teddy is lonely without me anyways.” he said, making a theatrical leave out of your room as he dragged his feet and kept giving you pointed looks. 

You were almost close to telling him he can stay, but as soon as he leaned in, you panicked and didn’t know how to react so you kept your mouth shut.

And you continued spiralling when he left, thinking about if he actually likes you or just wants to fuck you like he does to any girl. 

You’ve seen him with girls on his arms constantly and while you always thought what you felt was hate or disgust; in this moment you recognized it was jealousy and it didn’t feel good at all.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @simpforleeknaur @schniti-is-in-the-house

part 2

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤPUPPY LOVEㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Siscon Damian Wayne x Fem Reader x Yandere Jon Kent Part 1

☆⁠ HEADCANON : What if Jon become obsessed with Damian's sister?

☆⁠ NOTES : Siscon is a word to refer those brothers and sisters who feel a strong sense of affection or attachment to their sisters. English is not my first language. Hone you enjoy!

Jon was over at the Wayne Manor for a sleepover, all wide-eyed excitement and nervous energy. Damian had begrudgingly invited him (Bruce’s insistence), and the younger boy was already regretting it. Jon was annoying, far too cheerful, and—worst of all—he had no sense of boundaries. Damian had learned to tolerate him, though, mostly because Jon was naive enough not to notice the storm that brewed in the younger Wayne’s mind whenever someone got too close to you.

And Jon got too close right away.

The moment you came downstairs, wearing an oversized hoodie and socks that slid on the hardwood floors, Jon froze. His big blue eyes widened to cartoonish proportions, his cheeks turned a bright shade of red, and for a moment, it looked like his brain had short-circuited.

"Hi," you greeted with a warm smile, ruffling Damian's hair as you walked past. (He hated it, or at least pretended to, judging by the subtle way he leaned into your touch.) "You must be Jon."

Jon stammered something incomprehensible, nodding like an overeager puppy. Damian shot him a glare that could have melted steel, but Jon didn’t even notice.

"You’re—uh—really pretty," Jon finally managed to choke out, his voice cracking slightly.

You laughed, a soft sound that only made Jon’s brain glitch further.

"Thanks, kiddo," you said, pinching his cheek. "You’re cute."

If Jon had a tail, it would’ve been wagging furiously. Damian, on the other hand, looked like he was about to commit murder.

From that day on, Jon was obsessed.

It takes exactly 0.2 seconds for Damian to realize Jon is crushing on you. The way Jon stares at you with stars in his eyes? The way he stumbles over his words when you talk to him? It’s disgusting.

Damian glare at Jon "You’re drooling."

"I-I am not!"

"Jon, are you okay? You’re all red." You said. You were worry for the kid.

Damian smirk "He’s fine. Just leave him."

Every time he came over to Wayne Manor, he asked about you. Where were you? What were you doing? Did you need help with anything? Damian was this close to slamming Jon’s head into the nearest wall.

"She’s busy, Kent," Damian would snap, his voice sharp enough to cut. "And she doesn’t have time to entertain idiotic farm boys."

But then you’d walk into the room, and Jon would light up like a Christmas tree. He’d start babbling about anything and everything, trying to impress you with stories about his dad or his adventures. You, being the sweetheart you were, humored him.

"Oh wow, you saved a cat from a tree?" you’d say, your tone genuine despite the simple nature of Jon’s stories. "You’re such a strong hero, Jon."

Damian, standing off to the side, would roll his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of his head.

Damian, of course, had always been protective of you. From the moment Bruce brought him into the family, you’d been his. You were his anchor, his comfort, the only person in the world who truly understood him.

But you didn’t see it that way.

To you, Damian was just your little brother. Sure, he had a sharp tongue and an attitude that could rival Gotham’s worst criminals, but deep down, he was a sweet kid. You adored him, and he adored you—though he showed it in his own... peculiar ways.

Like scowling at anyone who so much as looked at you.

Or “accidentally” spilling water on that guy who tried to flirt with you at the gala last month.

Or, more recently, hovering like a shadow every time Jon Kent was within a ten-foot radius of you.

It was during one of those infamous sleepovers that things came to a head.

The second Jon starts acting weird around you, Damian picks up on it. Like the time Jon saw you in the kitchen and tripped over his own feet, sending a glass of milk flying.

"Oh no, are you okay?" You say while helping Jon clean up, your hand brushing his

Jon blushing furiously "I—I’m fine! Really!"

Meanwhile Damian standing in the doorway, glaring daggers at him "Kent. A word."

Jon nervously excuses himself, and you think nothing of it. But in the other room, Damian corners him.

"Whatever you’re thinking, stop it," Damian growls.

"What? I don’t know what you’re talking about—"

Damian press him against the wall "Don’t test me, Kent."

Jon starts finding excuses to visit.

"Hey, Mr. Wayne wanted me to help with a case," he says one day, standing awkwardly in the doorway. Of course, Bruce didn’t actually call him over, but Jon’s banking on you not asking too many questions.

"Oh, that’s great! Damian’s in the training room."

"Actually… I was hoping to hang out with you. I mean, you’re so smart, and Damian talks about you all the time, and I think I could learn a lot from you."

Damian appears out of nowhere like a shadow. "She’s busy. Go away, Kent."

But Jon doesn’t leave. Instead, he lingers, asking you about everything: your favorite books, your favorite places to visit, what kind of guys you like (as if he’s not 13 and awkward).

"Jon, you’re a child," Damian says, arms crossed. "You can’t possibly comprehend what it means to appreciate someone as extraordinary as her."

"I’m only six years younger than her!"

"Exactly. Stay in your lane."

Damian takes it upon himself to shadow you everywhere whenever Jon is around, making it impossible for Jon to even think about making a move.

One day, Damian finds Jon leaving a love letter in your room. A love letter. Damian’s rage is unmatched. He tears the note in half and grabs Jon by the collar.

"If you ever even think about her again, I’ll make sure Superman has to scrape your remains off the moon."

"She deserves better than you."

Damian doesn’t respond. Instead, he calmly walks into your room, grabs your hand, and drags you downstairs.

"You’re not allowed to talk to Kent anymore," he announces.

"Wait, what? Why not?"

"Because he’s dangerous. Trust me, I’m doing this for your own good."

Damian doesn’t respond. Instead, he calmly walks into your room, grabs your hand, and drags you downstairs.

You’d made popcorn and brought it to Damian’s room, where he and Jon were supposed to be watching a movie. Instead, you walked in to find Jon staring dreamily at your photo on Damian’s desk (a candid shot of you laughing at something Alfred said).

Damian noticed your arrival first, his expression darkening.

"Kent," he growled.

Jon jumped, nearly knocking over the desk in his haste to look innocent. "I wasn’t—I mean—uh, hi, Y/N!"

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "Hey, Jon. You boys okay?"

"Fine," Damian said through gritted teeth.

Jon, ignoring the blatant hostility radiating from his best friend, nodded enthusiastically. "Better now that you’re here!"

Damian shot him a look that could have frozen fire.

"Aw, thanks," you said with a laugh, completely oblivious to the tension. "You two are so sweet. You know that?"

Damian muttered something under his breath—something Jon was probably glad he didn’t hear.

Later that night, while Damian was in the bathroom, Jon decided to shoot his shot.

"Hey, Y/N," he said, fidgeting with the hem of his Superman-themed pajamas. "I was wondering... do you wanna hang out sometime? Like, just the two of us?"

You blinked, caught off guard. "Like... a playdate?"

Jon’s face turned a deep shade of red. "N-No! Like... like a date-date."

You stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. "Oh, Jon, that’s so sweet. But I think you’re a little young for me, don’t you think?"

Jon looked crushed. Before he could respond, Damian walked back into the room, immediately sensing the shift in mood.

"What’s going on?" he demanded, eyes narrowing.

"Nothing," you said quickly, ruffling Jon’s hair. "Jon was just being his adorable self."

Damian’s eyes flicked between the two of you, his jaw tightening. He didn’t say anything, but the look he gave Jon promised retribution.

From that night on, Jon’s crush only grew, but so did Damian’s possessiveness. Jon was like a puppy, trailing after you with stars in his eyes. Damian, meanwhile, was the guard dog, snapping and growling at anyone who dared come near you—especially Jon.

You, of course, were blissfully unaware of the brewing storm. To you, they were just two adorable kids who couldn’t seem to get along.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, repost or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Under the Mistletoe 2

SUMMARY: You told your classmates about Christmas and the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. But what if it's someone else helping you get a kiss from your crush? Or your crush trying to get a kiss from you? Or even prevent you from kissing someone else?

CHARACTERS: Scarabia (Kalim; Jamil); Pomefiore (Vil; Epel; Rook); Ignihyde (Idia + Ortho) & Diasomnia (Malleus; Silver; Sebek; Lilia)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Kissing

WORD COUNT: An average of 390 words per character.

COMMENTS: As I believe some characters would be more direct and others would try to beat around the bush some have more words than others for this reason.

The Ignihyde part is the longest because it's Idia and Ortho together. With Ortho is platonic of course, he just gives you a present, Idia is the one under the mistletoe.

I hope you all enjoy and have a Merry Christmas. 🎁

Under the Mistletoe 1 - Heartslabyul (Riddle, Ace; Deuce; Cater; Trey); Savanaclaw (Leona; Jack; Ruggie) & Octavinelle (Azul; Jade; Floyd)

CONTEXT: As the end of the year approaches and the snow begins to fall, you comment to your schoolmates that it is reminding you of a holiday that exists in your world called Christmas. They get curious and ask you more about it, you talk about the gifts, the tree, getting the family together, etc.

Until Cater asks if there wouldn't be any romantic traditions on such a cute holiday, and the first thing that comes to your mind is the tradition of two people having to kiss if they both happen to be under a mistletoe or holly.

You even say that there are people who purposely place mistletoe in a strategic spot to attract the person they want to kiss and pretend it was an accident. A very popular Christmas romance troupe.

Cater was the one who told Kalim what you said about Christmas, and consequently about the mistletoe tradition. But that wasn't what he was thinking about the time he went to visit you at Ramshackle Dorm.

“HEY [Y/N]!” He greets you with his radiant smile. “Happy... um... what was the name of that holiday you told Cater about again?”

You say it's called Christmas and the greeting is ‘Merry Christmas’.

“Merry Christmas! Wait, I don't know if it's today... It isn’t? Then let me know when it is so I can wish you one, okay? Cater told me you felt a little homesick when you remembered that holiday and about the tradition of exchanging gifts. So I wanted to give you one to cheer you up.”

He hands you a present wrapped in shiny paper. You thank him and accept, but say you don't have a gift for him.

“Oh, don't worry about that. Seeing you smile is already the best gift you can give me.”

You open the gift, it's a turquoise cardigan with white jasmine flowers.

“It is of great quality and excellent for keeping you warm. That's what Jamil said. He helped me choose a gift for you and said the best one would be something that would help you during these cold days. Did you like it?”

You say that you did and show that by trying it right away.

“It looks so good on you! And makes you look even cuter than usual.” He smiles innocently.

You two hear a sound above you, look up, and see a ghost's hand holding a sprig of mistletoe above your heads.

“Mistletoe? Cater had mentioned something about this but I don't remember what it was about. It's another tradition of your holiday, isn't it? What does it mean?”

You tell him about the kiss under the mistletoe. He smiles widely and blushes a little.

“I don't mind kissing you at all! I mean... I would even like to. If you want to do it too of course.”

You confirm and you move closer to each other. You will be able to feel his smile during the kiss.

Ace was the one who told Jamil about the things you said about Christmas, at the last basketball club meeting before winter break. He took advantage of the first opportunity he had to go to Ramshackle Dorm while Kalim was at the Pop Music Club.

“Hello, [Y/N].” Jamil greets you when you open the door. “I heard about the holiday you have in your world this time of year and that you were feeling a little homesick. How are you today?”

You say you're fine, just homesick about some things.

“I see. Ace told me that one of your holiday traditions was exchanging gifts. Is that correct?” You confirm. “I'm glad, because I got one for you.” He takes his hands from behind his back and hands you a nicely wrapped present. “Don't worry about getting one for me. My only intention is to cheer you up a little.”

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, suspicious. He chuckles and then smirks

“Okay, maybe that's not really the only intention. But please open it and see if you like it.”

You thank him and open the present, it's a burgundy and black hoodie exactly like the one Jamil wears under his school uniform blazer. You look at him and he's smiling smugly.

“You already told me that you liked my hoodie, so I thought you might like to have one like it. This one is also very warm for days like these. So, what did you think?”

You say you like it, slightly flustered and even comment that it's possible that people think you're actually wearing his hoodie.

“Oh, you're right. That hadn't even occurred to me.” He says, still with a smirk on his face. “By the way, you should start thinking about pruning the plants outside your dorm, some are already growing here at the door.” He points up and you see a mistletoe growing from the wall, which you are almost certain is not naturally possible.

“Wasn't mistletoe part of another tradition of yours? I'm pretty sure Ace mentioned something about it.”

You tell him about the kiss under the mistletoe.

“Ah, yes, that was it. Well, if you want, I have no objection in participating in this tradition of yours.”

You show that you would also like to do it with him, you get closer to each other and he captures your lips.

Vil heard about what you said about Christmas from Rook, who had apparently been eavesdropping on your conversation. And obviously he being who he is would mention the mistletoe tradition. The day before he left to spend the winter break at home, he came to see you at Ramshackle Dorm.

“Good afternoon, [Y/N].” Vil greets you when you open the door. “I heard what you said about a holiday in your world that happens at this time of year. Now I understand why you seemed a little sad. Are you too homesick?”

You say you're fine, just homesick about some things.

“Perhaps if you fulfilled some of your traditions it will help make you feel better?” Vil suggests. “Rook told me about your tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. Is that correct?” You confirm. “In that case, I have a proposal for you, sweet potato.” He smirks. “If you manage to find a sprig of mistletoe and make us both meet under it, I will allow you to fulfill your tradition with a kiss of mine. Be aware that to receive any kiss from me you have to prove yourself, especially one on the lips. Show me how much you want one before I leave for home and I shall reward you with it.” He winks at you and leaves.

You still spend a lot of time looking for a mistletoe tree until you discover that there is one in the Botanical Garden. But it was only on the next day that you managed to run over there and pick a sprig of mistletoe with or without permission and then run to try to find Vil at Pomefiore.

You ask where Vil is and one of the students tells you he was in his room. You go over there, place the sprig of mistletoe on top of the door frame and knock. Vil is surprised to see you and smiles.

“Hello sweet potato. I was just about to leave to go home. Don't tell me you've given up on our little game?”

You smile and point up so he can see the sprig of mistletoe stuck to the door frame of his room. He looks at you angrily.

“And you still dare to defile the aesthetics of our dormitory, especially right outside my bedroom door?!” But then laughs heartily. “Ha ha ha, How daring! Or should I say cheeky? I see you're smiling. Did this little challenge cheer you up?”

Now you realize that entertaining you a little to cheer you up was his real plan.

“Well, you managed to complete the challenge. It's only fair that I reward you.” He holds your chin and kisses you masterfully.

Epel wasn't with you when you told the others about Christmas, but he asked Ace and Deuce if you were okay because he had been seeing you looking a little down. That's when they told him about your holiday, but they didn't mention the mistletoe tradition. The day before he left to spend the winter break at home, he came to see you at Ramshackle Dorm.

“Hi [Y/N].” Epel greets you with a cute smile. “I heard you were feeling a little down because you were homesick. Ace and Deuce told me about a holiday you have in your world at this time of year and that exchanging gifts is one of the traditions. Is it true?” You confirm and his smile becomes even more enthusiastic. “Heh heh. In that case, I've got you one.” He takes his hands from behind his back and hands you a present.

You thank him and accept the gift but say you don't have any for him.

“Don't worry about that. I just wanted to cheer you up, you don't have to give me anything. Go on, open it! I'm sure you'll love it.”

You open the present, it's a lavender knitted poncho with an apple pattern.

“I have to admit something.” He tells you a little embarrassed. “The truth is that this poncho was mine, it was made by my Meemaw. Since it is winter I wanted to give you something from Harveston, but there was no time to ask my family to send something. So I decided to give you something of my own. I’m sure that Meemaw would be happy to know that if I gave this poncho to anyone it was to you. Don't worry, I have many more. Do you like it?”

You say you like it and he says he's glad. Then the two of you hear a sound above you, look up, and see a ghost's hand holding a sprig of mistletoe. Epel asks you if you know why they are doing that and you tell him about the tradition of the kiss under the mistletoe. He immediately blushes!

“K-K-KISS?! Why are they doing this to us then?” He sees you getting slightly flustered. “Wait... you...” He takes a deep breath to gain confidence. “If you want to follow your tradition, I... I don't mind.”

You move closer to him and close your eyes. It takes him a moment to gain enough courage to kiss you.

Rook overheard your conversation with Ace, Deuce and others, and he was immediately smitten by such a heartwarming holiday. And even more interested he became when you told Cater about the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. A delightful opportunity! That same day he knocks on the door of Ramshackle Dorm.

“Bonjour, Trickster!” Rook greets you at the height of his good mood. “It came to my ears that you were feeling homesick due to a holiday that you have in your world at this time of year that we don't have in Twisted Wonderland. I heard about some of the traditions you talked about and I thought it was merveilleux! I am eager to know more about this Christmas holiday. Would you be so kind as to grant me a conversation on the subject?”

You say you don't mind or even that you'd love to and invite him in. The two of you talk for so long that you end up telling him practically everything you know about Christmas. So much so that it's only when Rook sees the sun setting that he realizes how much time has passed and apologizes for stealing so much of your time.

“What if I made you dinner? I feel it is the least I can do for the time you have so generously given me.”

You both go to the kitchen because you either insist on helping him prepare dinner or you want to supervise him. What you don't see is the hand of one of the ghosts appearing with a sprig of mistletoe from the ceiling and Rook taking it from his hands.

“A poisonous plant is not something advisable in a kitchen, don't you think Trickster?” You turn around and see the mistletoe in his hands. “However...” He walks towards you, getting very close and looking at you with his hunter's gaze as he raises the sprig above both of your heads. “This is an excellent opportunity for you to show me in practice what your mistletoe tradition is like.”

He won't kiss you, he wants you to do it. He loves it when you're cheeky enough to take the initiative. But once you do, be prepared for him to show you how much he likes you.

Ortho overheard your conversation and showed up halfway through to join in and find out more. He was the one who told his big brother who seemed to dislike such a holiday. Boring, too lovey-dovey, an excuse for family members who can't stand each other to get together once a year to pretend they care, were some of the ways he described his conclusion about this holiday.

Idia wondered why you would miss a holiday like that and Ortho said that maybe you missed having loved ones around, or maybe you're sad that you can't share that heartwarming spirit with anyone. Spending a date where you can celebrate good feelings with the ones you love is a little sad to spend alone. Especially if you have people there that you would like to spend it with.

Idia had mixed feelings about Ortho's hypotheses and asked if he really thought there was anyone at that school or in Twisted Wonderland that you would like to spend this holiday with.

“You'll never know if you don't ask. He he.” Was Ortho's response.

Ortho knew that his big brother and you liked each other, he could read your vital signs when you were near each other or talking about each other, but he also knew that it was easier to convince you to go to Ignihyde than Idia to go to Ramshackle Dorm.

Ortho asked if you could go to Ignihyde to help him with something before he and Idia go home for the winter break. Grim didn't want to go because he didn't want to run the risk of Idia wanting to pet him and treat him like a cat.

When you arrive you ask Ortho what he needs from you.

“Actually, I'm sorry I lied to you. I don't need help with anything. I just wanted to surprise you. I've been thinking about what you said about Christmas and how you've been feeling a little down, so I decided to follow one of your traditions to try to cheer you up a little. Please check out that mobile game you love.”

You pick up your phone, open the game and see that there is something in your Gift Box. It is a key that guarantees you an SSR card. You ask if that was him and how he did that. He gives you a mischievous look and says you don't need to worry about it, he has his tricks.

“I wanted to give you a present, you know because of your tradition of exchanging gifts. Did you like it?”

You say you loved it, but you don't have any gifts for him.

“Don't worry about it, this was nothing. But if you want to do something as a gift back maybe you can help me with my big brother if you don't mind?”

He tells you that he also wants to surprise Idia and that all you have to do is convince him to open his bedroom door. Discussing with Ortho he has an idea: "I know! Why don't you tell him you have some Christmas sweets for him to try? He loves sweets!”

The two of you put this plan into action. It takes a while before Idia decides to open the door to see if you are telling the truth or not. The two of you are the only people he doesn't mind opening the bedroom door to see face to face. He sees that you don't have any sweets and Ortho admits that it was his idea to trick him.

“I don't know why I still have glimmers of hope IRL” He says, unbothered.

Ortho laughs and flies over your and Idia's heads and holds a sprig of mistletoe between the two of you. When he reminds Idia what he told him about that tradition of yours, the tips of his hair turn pink and he starts to stutter. You need to be the first one to reveal that you would like to fulfill that tradition with him.

“W-with me? Listen, you don't need to lower your standards that much just because you pity me.”

You stamp your foot saying that it have nothing to do with it and for him to stop with that self-depressing talk.

“Well, then you do it.” He smirks. “If you really want it, go ahead. Look, I'll even lower myself to be on your level. As if you were that-”

You shut him up with the kiss, and eventually he pulls you into his room and closes the door leaving his little brother in the hallway.

Lilia was the one who told Malleus, after Cater told him, what you said about Christmas. The conversation focused more on the exchange of gifts, but Lilia made a point of mentioning the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. The day before he left to spend the winter break at home, he came to see you at Ramshackle Dorm.

“Good afternoon, Child of Man.” Malleus greets you with a smile when you open the door. “How are you feeling today?”

You say you're fine and ask why he's asking that.

“I heard you were feeling homesick due to a holiday of yours that isn't celebrated here in Twisted Wonderland. What was it named?” You answer. “Ah yes, Christmas. Lilia told me that one of your traditions was exchanging gifts, so I brought you one.” He makes a gift appear wrapped in fancy looking paper and hands it to you.

You thank him, but say you don't have any for him because you didn't know he was going to give you a present.

“Worry not. I am aware that this gesture of mine is quite sudden. You needn't to give me a present in return, seeing you smiling after these days of feeling down will be a good enough gift.”

You open the present, it's a black hooded jacket. He asks you to try it on and when you do, you discover that on the hood there are two horns just like his. He smiles fondly.

“Lilia would be deeply envious of your cuteness right now.” Malleus comments.

“Indeed, but I will allow my crown to be taken from me this time.” Lilia appears, upside down and above the two of you.

“Lilia? What are you doing here? I thought you were packing your things so we could leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, worry not, Malleus. I have plenty of time for that. But for this...”

He smiles mischievously and stretches out his arm as he holds a sprig of mistletoe over both of your heads. He even reminds Malleus of what he said about that tradition of yours.

“Oh, I see. A kiss from me?” He smirks at you. “Practically everyone is afraid to even come near me. [Y/N], would you be brave enough to have this tradition of your be fulfilled by me?”

You step forward and show him how much you would love that. He laughs heartily. He leans in, you close your eyes, but then you feel him pull you with him into the house and close the door.

“Forgive my rudeness but I would prefer to do this with a little more privacy.” And finally he kisses you as if he had wanted to do it for a long time.

Lilia was the one who told Silver, after Cater told him, what you said about Christmas, especially about the tradition of exchanging gifts. The day before he left to spend the winter break at home, he came to see you at Ramshackle Dorm.

“Good afternoon, [Y/N].” Silver greets you with his usual neutral expression. “How are you?”

You say you're fine and ask why he's asking.

“I heard you were feeling a little down for being homesick. I think you mentioned a holiday in your world that takes place at this time of year. What was it named?” You answer. “Christmas. Is it true that one of the Christmas traditions is exchanging gifts?” You confirm. “I'm glad I didn't misheard it, then. Here, I brought you a present.”

He takes a cute little box out of his pocket and hands it to you. You thank him, but say you don't have any gifts for him.

“You don't have to worry about that. I'm not offering you this gift to get one in return. I just hope that trying to recreate a tradition of yours can bring you a little joy.” He gives you that rare smile of his.

You open the present, Inside the box is a small square of black styrofoam that holds a silver ring.

“Sorry for not being much.”

You say he doesn't have to apologize because it was a beautiful ring. You put it on and it fits perfectly on your finger. Suddenly, you both hear a chirping above you, look up and see a little bird holding a sprig of mistletoe above your heads.

“Mistletoe. Sorry, wasn't there another tradition of yours that involved mistletoe?”

You tell him about the kiss under the mistletoe. He widens his eyes and raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, I see. Um... If you want, I don't mind fulfilling this tradition with you.” He smiles. “In fact, I would be honored to do so if you allow me.”

You take a step forward showing that you want him to do it too and he kisses you gently.

Lilia was the one who told Sebek, after Cater told him, what you said about Christmas. But Sebek didn't seem very interested in the subject until Lilia tells him about the mistletoe tradition, however he tells Sebek that you are obliged to kiss the other person. This not only arouses his interest but also his indignation and revolt.

The day before he left to spend the winter break at home, he goes to Ramshackle Dorm first thing in the morning.

“HUMAN!” Sebek startles you when you open the door. “I heard about your mistletoe tradition. You must be alert so as not to come across a sprig of such or a tree. I have taken the liberty of examining every paths you may go through and ensuring that you are free of this plant.” He has a smug and proud smile on.

You ask what he's talking about, confused and maybe even still a little sleepy.

“Lillia-sama told me all about the holiday you have in your world this time of year and the tradition of you being forced to kiss any subject you meet under a mistletoe. I am helping you to avoid such unconsenting tradition. You can start thanking me now.”

You tell him that the tradition of two people kissing each other under the mistletoe is true, but that it is not mandatory. It’s just something to be fun for both people, so the person can refuse to do it if they feel uncomfortable.

He asks if you are implying that Lilia deceived him on purpose. You think that maybe that is exactly what happened, but decide to say that maybe Lilia misunderstood or that whoever told him gave him the wrong information.

“Of course! Some humans are not even capable of transmitting non-erroneous information.”

“And now that we've got that sorted...” You both hear a familiar voice above you, look up and see Lilia floating while holding a sprig of mistletoe above your heads. “Why don't you two try fulfilling this tradition? Like [Y/N] said, it's just a little fun thing. Kee hee.”

Sebek blushes immediately! “I... ugh... Human!” He recomposes himself. “If that is what you wish, I have no objection to carrying out your tradition.” He is still blushing.

You approach him and show that you don't object either, in fact, you would even like him to be the one to help you fulfill that tradition. Lilia leaves the sprig of mistletoe hanging over the door frame and disappears to give you more privacy. He needs a moment to prepare, but once he does he goes all in.

Cater was the one who told Lilia what you said about Christmas. Especially the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe. The day before he left to spend the winter break at home, he came to see you at Ramshackle Dorm.

“Good afternoon [Y/N].” Lilia greets you with a sweet smile when you open the door. “Cater told me you were feeling a little sad for being homesick. I came to see how you were.”

You say you're fine and that your homesickness is because of a holiday that exists in your world.

“Oh, yes, he told me a lot about it. He said one of your traditions is exchanging gifts, so I brought you one.” He makes a present appear and gives it to you. “Don't worry about giving me one back. I know this gesture is very last minute. If this can cheer you up a little then that would be a great gift.”

You thank him and open the present, It is a matching set of pink gloves, scarf and hat with black bats pattern. He asks if you liked it and you say yes while trying on the scarf.

“Aw, you look so cute with it. I'm almost jealous. Oh, by the way, didn't another tradition of yours involve mistletoe?”

You confirm and tell him about the kiss under the mistletoe. You ask why he suddenly remembered that. He points up with a sly smile, you look and see a sprig of mistletoe floating above your heads.

“I hope it's not against the rules to be a plastic one. I wanted to keep it as a souvenir of this day. Is it okay?”

You say there is no problem, it is still valid.

“In that case, what if you make this your gift to me? I would love to share this traditional moment with you. Nothing would make me happier than learning more about your culture first hand.”

You get closer to each other and he kisses you sweetly.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[gainercontent]

The Naughty List - Part 1

It was Christmas Eve, and 20-year-old Jason Price was in his usual rebellious mood. As the snow fell gently outside, blanketing the small suburban neighborhood in a layer of white, Jason lounged on his couch in a dark hoodie, earbuds securely in place, blasting music that was anything but festive. The rest of his family had gathered in the kitchen, baking cookies and humming carols, but Jason wasn’t having any of it. 

For years now, he'd grown cynical about Christmas. The magic he once believed in had been replaced with indifference and apathy. He hadn't cared about Santa Claus in ages, and to him, the holiday was just another marketing ploy to make people buy things they didn’t need. He never cared for the usual Christmas cheer—family gatherings, gift exchanges, the whole “being together” thing. In his mind, the whole season was just one big commercialized joke.

To make matters worse, Jason had learned that he was on Santa’s naughty list this year. Not that he cared; he’d long stopped worrying about whether or not he got presents. His rebellious nature had only grown over the years, and he wore it like a badge of honor. Sure, he’d gotten a few reminders from his parents, and even a half-hearted lecture about “the Christmas spirit,” but he had rolled his eyes and shrugged them off. If Santa didn’t like it, well, that was his problem.

The house was quiet, except for the sound of Christmas music drifting from the kitchen. Jason scrolled through his phone, avoiding the festivities and ignoring his family’s attempts to engage him. His mom had baked a fresh batch of gingerbread cookies, filling the house with the sweet, warm smell of cinnamon, nutmeg, and molasses. But Jason wasn’t in the mood for any of it. He wasn’t interested in the cookies, the hot cocoa, or even the Christmas tree standing tall in the corner of the living room, its lights twinkling with innocent holiday joy. 

He tossed a glance toward the window. The world outside was still, save for the occasional flurry of snowflakes that danced in the light from the streetlamps. Everything felt like it was frozen in time, caught between the present and the past, and Jason couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t belong in this world of traditions anymore.

Suddenly, a strange noise broke his focus.

**Thud.**

It wasn’t the sound of a car driving by, or even the wind against the windows. It was too heavy, too deliberate. Jason sat up, pulling out his earbuds and staring at the ceiling as the sound came again.

**Thud.**

A faint rustle, like something—or someone—was shifting on the roof.

Jason furrowed his brow, rubbing his eyes. What the hell was that? He’d heard noises on the roof before—possibly squirrels or the occasional raccoon—but this was different. The thuds were slow, steady. Almost rhythmic.

**Thud. Thud.**

He shot a glance at the clock. It was well past midnight. His parents had long gone to bed, and there was no one else in the house. It was just him and the sound of whatever was walking—or stomping—on the roof. 

Jason got to his feet and cautiously moved toward the window, pulling back the heavy curtains just enough to peer outside. The yard was still—no one was out there. The sky was dark and clouded, and the only light was from the moon reflecting off the snow. He listened again, straining his ears for any sign of movement, but the thudding had stopped.

Confused and a bit unnerved, Jason shook his head. "Stupid raccoons," he muttered under his breath. He was about to turn away when a faint, sweet scent reached his nose. 

The smell of freshly baked cookies.

It was the same warm, spicy smell of his mom’s gingerbread cookies. But it wasn’t coming from the kitchen. Jason’s eyes widened as he looked toward the staircase. He could smell it more strongly now, wafting down the hall.

“Mom?” he called, but his voice was hoarse from sleep, barely a whisper.

No answer. His parents were definitely asleep—he would have heard them if they were up. Still, Jason’s feet moved almost on their own, pulling him into the hallway, the smell growing stronger as he passed the kitchen and toward the living room. But the cookies... weren’t coming from the kitchen. They were coming from the fireplace.

His breath caught in his throat. The fireplace. 

He hadn’t noticed it before, but now that he was paying attention, it was almost as if the whole room seemed... different. The Christmas tree lights were flickering in a way that made him feel dizzy. A low hum seemed to fill the air, almost like a song playing beneath everything else.

Jason took a hesitant step toward the fireplace. The hearth was cold, empty—nothing unusual. The chimney was clear, but that strange scent—those gingerbread cookies—lingered in the air like an invitation.

He was about to turn away when, out of nowhere, there was a loud **CRASH** from the roof.

This time, it wasn’t a thud or a rustle. It was a full-on slam, followed by the unmistakable sound of footsteps—big, heavy boots thumping down onto the chimney.

Jason froze. This wasn’t a raccoon. Or a squirrel. 

Suddenly, the air in the living room grew thick with a strange energy, and the lights flickered once more before going completely out. For a moment, the house was plunged into darkness. Jason’s heart raced as he stood there, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Then, from the other side of the room, there was a noise—a deep, heavy breath, like someone exhaling after a long day of hard work.

Jason’s stomach dropped as he realized: something—or *someone*—was in his house.

He didn’t have time to react before the sound of boots against wood echoed down the stairs. A heavy, jolly laugh filled the space, reverberating in the room.

“Ho, ho, ho!” 

Jason’s mind went blank. He couldn’t believe his ears. Standing in the doorway, just beyond the shadows of the hallway, was a large figure dressed in red. A thick, snowy white beard covered his face, and his eyes twinkled in a way that made Jason feel as though he was staring at something from a dream.

There was no mistaking it. It was Santa Claus.

The old man looked at him with a knowing smile. “Well, well, well, Jason Price. You’re still awake?”

Jason could only stand there, his mouth hanging open. His head spun, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Santa...?” he managed to stammer.

Santa chuckled, adjusting the massive sack over his shoulder. “I see you’re on my naughty list this year, young man. But don’t worry, I’ve got something special for you.”

Before Jason could say another word, Santa reached into his sack and pulled out a plate of warm, freshly baked cookies. The same ones that filled the house with their intoxicating scent. He held them out to Jason, his eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and understanding.

"You’ve been a little too rebellious, haven’t you? Maybe it’s time to find some balance." 

Jason stood there, speechless. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, but one thing was clear: this wasn’t the Christmas he’d been expecting.

With a deep breath, Jason took the plate of cookies. As he did, he realized something—the world outside, the cold, snowy night, and the strange magic filling his house, felt like a new beginning. Maybe being on the naughty list wasn’t the end of it all. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to be learned about Christmas after all.

Jason stood in the middle of the living room, still in disbelief at what was happening. Santa Claus, the jolly old man in red, had just handed him a plate of fresh gingerbread cookies, their spicy scent filling the room and tantalizing his senses. It didn’t seem real—none of it did. But there was Santa, smiling knowingly at him as if he’d been expecting Jason all along.

“Go on,” Santa said with a twinkle in his eye. “Try one. It’s part of the magic, you know.”

Jason hesitated. His stomach, still a little uneasy from all the holiday food he’d already eaten, growled at the prospect of another treat. But despite himself, the cookies looked too delicious to pass up. He picked up one of the small, perfectly shaped gingerbread men, still warm from the oven.

Santa leaned back slightly, his large belly shaking as he chuckled. “Ah, don’t worry, they’re not just cookies. They’ve got a little bit of magic in them. And trust me, they’ll change things for you.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, looking down at the cookie. The idea of magic seemed ludicrous—he wasn’t a little kid anymore, after all. But the cookie smelled so good, and for some reason, he couldn’t resist. He took a bite, letting the sweetness wash over his tongue. The spices, the warmth, the soft crumble of the cookie—it was like nothing he’d ever tasted before.

At first, there was just a sense of satisfaction. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he chewed, feeling the holiday warmth spread through him. But then, something strange happened.

A **tingling sensation** spread from his stomach outward, radiating through his limbs like a wave of warmth. Jason froze, feeling a strange tightness around his waist. His jeans, which were already snug after a day of indulgence, suddenly felt even tighter. His stomach rumbled—not from hunger, but from something else, something *different*.

He looked down in disbelief, his hand instinctively reaching for his midsection. 

Jason blinked, his breath catching in his throat. He could feel it—his clothes were tighter, the waistband of his jeans digging into his belly, and his shirt was now stretching across his chest and stomach. He hadn’t imagined it. It was real. He’d just gained weight. Right there, in the span of a few seconds.

Santa, who had been watching him closely, broke into a warm grin.

“Magic cookies,” Santa explained, his voice as jolly as ever. “Each one makes you gain 10 pounds. I can see you’re starting to understand the magic now.”

Jason’s mouth went dry. “Wait... what?” He stepped back, his mind racing. “You mean... this is real? I just gained 10 pounds in like... a minute?”

Santa chuckled heartily, his belly shaking. “Indeed. Those cookies are no ordinary sweets, my boy. They come from the North Pole, crafted in the heart of the workshop, and they’re a part of my gift for those on the naughty list.”

Jason’s mind was spinning. "But why? Is this your way of punishing me?"

Santa waved his hand dismissively, his eyes gleaming. “No, no, it’s not about punishment. It’s about balance. You’ve been living with too much stubbornness, too much defiance. These cookies are a way to teach you a little lesson about... well, about how good things can come from unexpected places.”

Jason stared at him, still not fully comprehending what was happening. His belly was already feeling heavier, the pressure of the extra weight making him uncomfortably aware of his body. He could feel it in his limbs, in his posture—the slight shift in his center of gravity, the tightness of his clothes.

“So... every cookie I eat—what, I get fatter?” Jason asked, incredulous.

Santa gave him a knowing look. “Not just fatter, my boy. You gain weight in a way that mirrors the choices you make. Each bite reflects the way you approach life, and how much you’re willing to let go of your pride, your ego, and embrace something a little more... *sweet*.”

Jason looked at the plate in his hands. The other cookies were so tempting, so warm, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to keep going down this strange, magical rabbit hole. He’d already felt the effects of the first bite. His jeans were visibly tighter, the waistband straining against the added weight. He could feel his stomach protruding a little more, his face flushed as he glanced at Santa in confusion.

“Don’t worry,” Santa said softly, as if reading Jason’s mind. “You don’t have to eat them all at once. But you should know—you *will* feel the effects. If you keep eating, your body will change. But it’s your choice, Jason. You’re not forced to indulge in the magic if you don’t want to.”

Jason swallowed hard, looking down at the cookie in his hand, then back up at Santa. There was something undeniably *inviting* about it. He wasn’t sure why, but it felt like the right thing to do in the moment. Maybe he could let go of his defiance, even if just for a while. Maybe he could try something new, something he’d never considered before.

“Just one more,” he muttered to himself, almost against his better judgment.

Santa gave him an approving nod. “Ah, good choice. A small step toward a new understanding. Go ahead.”

Jason, a mix of curiosity and temptation swirling in his chest, picked up another cookie. This time, he didn’t hesitate. He bit into it, feeling the warmth and the magic all over again.

Almost immediately, the tingling sensation returned, this time more intense. His stomach seemed to expand as if it were a balloon being inflated. His pants, which were already tight, seemed to fit even more snugly around his hips. His chest felt fuller, as though his body were adjusting to the new weight with an almost *unnatural* rapidity.

He wasn’t sure if it was the magic or his own choices catching up with him, but as the pressure in his belly increased, Jason could only stare at Santa with wide eyes. 

“Okay, that’s... that’s enough,” Jason said, trying to steady himself as his balance shifted. But even as he spoke, the strange sense of satisfaction grew stronger. He felt fuller, heavier, but oddly more *content* than he’d ever felt in his rebellious, defiant existence.

Jason looked down at himself. He didn’t know how much weight he’d gained this time, but the sensation was undeniable. He couldn’t ignore the tightness in his shirt or the weight of his stomach. It was clear that he was becoming a different version of himself with every bite, both physically and, in some strange way, emotionally.

“You’ve learned a lot tonight,” Santa said, his voice kind but firm. “But remember—there’s always room for change. Christmas can be magic, but only if you let it.”

Jason stared at the remaining cookies on the plate, still warm and tempting. His stomach was already uncomfortably full, and he could feel the pressure in his waistband increasing with every passing second. He was getting heavier, and each bite seemed to make the weight more apparent, pushing against his clothes, straining his chest, and making him feel like his body was no longer his own.

He looked up at Santa, who was watching him with that infuriatingly knowing grin, as though he’d anticipated Jason’s every move. 

“I think I’m done,” Jason muttered, trying to push the plate away. The first two cookies had been enough—too much, in fact. He was starting to regret even eating the first one, feeling the weight settle around his stomach and chest. But the strange part was... he didn’t *hate* it. 

His belly groaned beneath his shirt, a reminder of the two cookies already devoured. It was so full now that the idea of eating any more seemed impossible. Yet, there was something about the air in the room that made him hesitate. It was as if there was an invisible pull toward the cookies, a magnetic force he couldn’t quite explain.

“No more cookies for me, Santa,” Jason said firmly, setting the plate on the coffee table, but even as he spoke, his stomach rumbled loudly, almost as if protesting his decision.

Santa chuckled softly, stepping forward with a gleam in his eye. “Oh, Jason. I think you *might* be mistaken.”

Jason's brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Santa placed a finger on his chin thoughtfully. Then, in a flash, he poked Jason’s belly—just a light tap, right on the soft, bloated area just below his ribs.

**Poke!**

Jason gasped. The instant Santa’s finger made contact with his stomach, a strange sensation flooded his body. His belly seemed to *deflate* for a second. It wasn’t just that the pressure lessened—it was like the food had disappeared. The bloating, the fullness, it all seemed to vanish in an instant, leaving him feeling... strangely empty.

And then, the hunger hit. 

A powerful wave of gnawing emptiness swept over him. His stomach growled, louder than before, a deep, almost painful rumble that seemed to echo in the quiet room. Jason’s eyes widened in shock as the hunger intensified, his gut aching with the need for more food. The pangs were so loud, so insistent, that they drowned out everything else around him.

Jason's hand went instinctively to his stomach, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as if he could somehow keep the sensation at bay. But the hunger didn’t stop. It was as if his body was screaming for food, his insides hollow, desperate for more.

“What the hell—?” Jason breathed, his voice shaking.

Santa just watched him, still grinning, his arms crossed over his chest. “I warned you, Jason. Every bite of these magic cookies does more than just fill your stomach. It changes how you feel. It alters your desires. And now... you can’t stop. You *need* another bite.”

Jason’s hands trembled as he looked at the plate, the third cookie sitting there innocently, just waiting for him to take it. His mind screamed at him not to do it. He didn’t want to eat another cookie. Not now, not after what had already happened.

But the hunger... the gnawing, relentless hunger in his gut... It wouldn’t stop. His body wanted it. Desperately.

“No...” Jason muttered, shaking his head. “I don’t need another cookie. I *don’t*.”

But the moment he said it, the hunger seemed to intensify. His stomach growled so loudly it nearly rattled his ribcage. The pressure returned in full force, and before he knew it, Jason was hunched over, clutching his stomach as if he could somehow stop it.

Santa watched him for a moment longer, his eyes full of knowing mischief. “I think it’s time for the third one, Jason. The hunger can’t be ignored, no matter how much you try.”

Jason’s resistance was faltering. He didn’t want to eat, didn’t want to give in to this strange magic. But his body was betraying him. He was too hungry, too empty, and the cookies were too close.

In a moment of weakness, Jason reached for the third cookie. It felt like an almost automatic response, his hand moving before his mind could even catch up. He didn’t want to, but his body needed it. Desperately.

Santa’s grin widened as Jason took the cookie and, without a second thought, bit into it.

As soon as the warm cookie hit his tongue, Jason could feel it—more than just the sweet flavor. His body reacted instantly. The warmth spread through him like a shock, and that empty sensation he’d felt only moments ago vanished, replaced with an overwhelming fullness. But this time, the fullness was different. It felt deeper. He could feel his stomach stretching, his pants tightening around his waist, and yet... it wasn’t painful. It was almost *comfortable*, in a strange, indulgent way.

Jason’s shirt grew tighter as he chewed, his chest expanding slightly with every bite. He could feel the extra weight settling on his body, his stomach swelling visibly beneath his shirt. With each bite, it was like he was ballooning outward, the weight accumulating rapidly.

He didn’t even notice how much he’d eaten, how much his body had changed until he looked down. His stomach, already soft and heavy, was now noticeably larger, pushing against the waistband of his jeans. His shirt strained to cover the growing mound of flesh beneath it, and the tightness in his pants was unmistakable.

Santa observed the transformation, his eyes gleaming with approval. “There it is, Jason. Just let go. Embrace it.”

Jason’s hands gripped his belly as if to hold the weight in place, but it was no use. He had given in. The hunger had won. 

But something else was happening now. Jason felt a strange, euphoric warmth spreading through his body. It wasn’t just the cookies that were filling him; it was the feeling of *acceptance*. He could almost hear the soft hum of magic surrounding him, as though the cookies had done more than just make him fat. They had somehow made him *feel* full—complete.

Jason swallowed, feeling the heaviness in his stomach, and for the first time, he felt something that wasn’t just hunger or defiance. He felt... *satisfied*. 

Jason had barely finished the third magic cookie when he felt an overwhelming shift in his body. At first, it was subtle—just a slight tightness in his stomach, like it had been stretched to its limits. But it didn’t stop there. 

The first thing Jason noticed was the pressure around his midsection. His jeans, which had already been snug before, felt almost painfully tight now, digging into his waist. His stomach, once slightly bloated from the previous cookies, had ballooned out significantly, pushing against the fabric of his shirt, the soft fabric straining to contain his expanding form. 

His chest had broadened too, his ribcage seeming to expand with every breath. As he looked down, his belly had swollen outward, a soft but firm mound of flesh that jutted noticeably past his waistline. The buttons of his shirt were pulling at the seams, and the waistband of his jeans was digging into his lower belly, the skin a little pink from the pressure. He could almost feel the weight accumulating beneath his hands as they hovered over the growing mass.

Each intake of breath made him acutely aware of how much he had consumed, and the feeling of fullness washed over him in waves. His belly had become an undeniable presence now, a heavy, rounded expanse that clung tightly to his body. It was as if every inch of his skin was occupied by this new weight, the feeling of it seeping into his legs, his arms, his chest. He wasn’t sure how much he had gained in total, but it was clear that his body had changed significantly with each magical bite.

But as he sat there, dazed from the strange magic, he realized that the hunger still hadn’t fully left him. His stomach rumbled again—louder, deeper than before. It was like a growl that reverberated through his entire body, leaving him feeling *empty* despite the vast amount of food he’d just consumed.

And then, before he could even process what was happening, Santa raised his hand with a knowing smile. The plate of cookies seemed to levitate, the two remaining gingerbread men sliding across the table toward Jason. 

Jason blinked. “Wait, what?” he said, still reeling from the effects of the last three cookies. But it was too late—the cookies were already in his hands, as if they’d been beckoned by some invisible force.

Santa's voice was calm, his tone warm. “You didn’t think it would stop at three, did you, Jason? The magic works in ways you can't predict, but now that you're here, it's almost a part of you. Go ahead... just one more bite.”

Jason’s hands trembled as he held the cookie in front of him. The pressure in his stomach was intense, a reminder of the weight he was already carrying. The thought of eating another one should have made him want to stop, but that gnawing emptiness still lingered in his gut, an insatiable, magnetic pull. His eyes traced the cookie’s edges, the sugary glaze gleaming in the soft glow of the Christmas lights. It was impossible to ignore.

Without fully realizing what he was doing, Jason took the first bite of the fourth cookie. His body immediately reacted, that same sensation flooding through him—the warmth, the magic, the sense of immediate satisfaction, and yet, at the same time, a deepening hunger. 

His stomach seemed to lurch, pushing outward with the added weight. The softness of his belly was now undeniable, the expanse of flesh that had once been confined beneath his shirt now visible as it pressed outward, expanding beneath his hands. 

Santa watched him, still smiling. "The magic doesn’t just fill you—it *changes* you, Jason. Every bite is a step toward something new. Something different.”

Jason couldn’t speak as the second cookie was placed into his hands. This time, he didn’t hesitate. He bit into it almost greedily, as if his body needed it. The flavor hit him all at once—spicy, sweet, with a warmth that spread from his mouth to his belly. 

And as soon as the cookie entered his system, he felt the unmistakable weight of it. 

His belly, already massive from the previous cookies, grew further—his stomach expanding with a slow but undeniable pressure. The tightness around his waist was almost unbearable, the waistband of his jeans digging in, as if threatening to burst. His shirt stretched across his chest, pulling tight over the soft, swollen mound of his stomach. The feeling of fullness had become almost overwhelming, as though his body had reached its absolute limit.

And yet, it wasn’t over.

Jason felt a deep, parched thirst suddenly wash over him. His throat felt dry, his mouth cottony. The hunger had finally receded, replaced by an almost desperate need for something to drink. 

Without thinking, Jason reached for the glass of whole milk Santa had left on the table. The cool, white liquid seemed like the only thing that could quench the fire in his throat. 

He brought the glass to his lips and began drinking, each gulp feeling like it was soothing something inside him. The cold milk seemed to settle in his stomach, cooling the heat from the cookies, and for a brief moment, he felt a little relief. But as he drank, his stomach continued to react to the magic in his body.

The pressure inside him was no longer just physical. His body was growing heavier with each swallow, his stomach expanding and stretching with the milk, the cookies, and the magic working its way through him. The fullness in his body wasn’t just in his belly anymore—it was in his arms, his legs, his chest. Jason could feel the weight of it spreading through him, sinking into his bones, his skin. He was *growing* with every bite, every gulp.

The milk, thick and rich, slid down his throat easily, but with every swallow, he could feel the weight of the magic pushing him further, making him feel more bloated, more *filled*. His body felt like it was expanding not just with food, but with *everything*. The magic was seeping into every part of him.

Finally, after Jason finished the milk, he let the glass slip from his hand. His stomach was so full now that it felt like it might burst. He leaned back into the couch, the weight of his belly pressing against his legs. He was *huge*—his shirt now clung to his swollen stomach, unable to cover the full expanse. His pants, once comfortably snug, now felt like they were cutting into his flesh. The waistband dug painfully into his soft belly, the fabric stretching in ways it wasn’t meant to. He couldn’t even move without feeling the tightness, the heaviness in every part of him.

Santa watched all of this unfold, a satisfied look on his face. “You’re learning, Jason. The magic isn’t about controlling you; it’s about showing you how to embrace what’s already inside of you.”

Jason could barely focus on Santa’s words, his mind fogged by the overwhelming sensation of his body. His stomach was so distended, so *full*, that all he could do was sit there, helpless against the pull of the magic. The once rebellious, defiant Jason had surrendered to it, his body irrevocably changed, his appetite insatiable.

Jason let out a loud, unintentional burp as he leaned back into the couch, the pressure in his overstuffed stomach making the sound escape from him. It was so loud, so sudden, that it echoed in the quiet room, a perfect, embarrassing punctuation to the magical meal he had just consumed.

"Excuse me," he muttered sheepishly, though a part of him was too full and too dazed to really care about the manners he normally would’ve worried about. His stomach was so large now that the idea of sitting up or moving was almost laughable. Every inch of his body felt stretched, as though he was on the verge of bursting from the sheer volume of food he had taken in.

Santa chuckled at the sound, an amused glint in his eyes as he looked at Jason’s swollen form. The old man’s gaze shifted down to Jason’s belly, now a soft, round mound pressing against his shirt. It was clear that Jason had eaten well—too well—and now, he was feeling the full force of that magic.

Jason sighed deeply, rubbing his hands over his belly as it grumbled, still not fully content despite the massive intake. It wasn’t just a growl anymore, it was an ache—one that he couldn’t ignore, no matter how much he tried to distract himself.

"I’m... I’m going to go back upstairs to bed," Jason muttered, his voice thick from the fullness in his stomach. He could feel the weight of the cookies pressing down on him, and though he had no desire to move, he knew he had to. His body felt like it had been stretched to its limits, and sleep seemed like the only reprieve from the intense pressure he felt within.

Santa grinned, watching Jason shift uncomfortably on the couch. "You’re going to need a little more than just bed to recover from all this magic, Jason."

Before Jason could protest, Santa’s gloved hand reached out and poked Jason’s bloated stomach lightly. The action was playful, but the effect was instant. Jason gasped, his belly jumping at the poke, a shudder of sensation running through him. The pressure that had been building seemed to momentarily *shift* as his belly responded, like a balloon inflating and deflating under his shirt.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” Jason said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll try to be better next year. But… can I just go to bed now? I feel like I’m going to explode.” 

Santa stood up, his merry eyes twinkling as he patted Jason gently on the belly, a soft tap that felt like the final nudge to keep him in place. “You’ve done enough, Jason. Just remember—next year, you’d better be on the nice list if you want to avoid more *magic cookies*. The world can only handle so much Christmas spirit, you know.”

Jason gave a tired but sincere nod, rubbing his now-aching belly. “Yeah, yeah… I’ll be good, I promise.”

With that, he pushed himself slowly to his feet, feeling the weight of his stomach shift as he stood, and made his way toward the stairs. Every step was a little slower than usual, his body heavy, swollen, and full. But it was Christmas, after all. He had indulged in the magic, and now, all he wanted was to sleep it off.

Before he disappeared up the stairs, he turned to glance back at Santa, who was still standing by the tree, watching him with that playful smile.

“Merry Christmas, Jason,” Santa said, his voice full of warmth.

Jason nodded, a smile tugging at his lips despite the discomfort. “Merry Christmas, Santa. And… thanks for the cookies.”

Santa’s eyes twinkled, his voice low and full of mirth. “Don’t mention it, kid. Just remember, no more naughty behavior next year.”

Jason was already regretting every bite as he made his way up the stairs. It wasn’t just the slow, lumbering pace of his steps, but the deep, weighted feeling of his body. Every movement felt heavier, every step more sluggish than the last. He had never felt so *slow* before. His legs seemed to protest with each step, the weight of the magic cookies settling into his body like a dense, unshakable fog.

Fifty extra pounds felt like a mountain on his frame—his stomach, still swollen from the five cookies and glass of milk, jutted out in front of him like a balloon. It was soft, round, and *massive*, and with every step he took, it seemed to pull down on him, making his movements even more labored. His shirt stretched uncomfortably across his chest, and his waistband was cutting into his belly, the fabric straining against the sheer size of him.

By the time he reached the top of the stairs, Jason was panting, exhausted from the simple effort of going up. He stopped in front of the bathroom mirror, his reflection hitting him like a slap. 

The sight of himself was almost foreign—his once lean frame had been completely transformed. His belly now looked like it was carrying a small beach ball in it. His shirt clung tightly to his swollen gut, the fabric stretched to its limits. Jason’s chest had widened as well, and his arms, once muscular but lean, now seemed thick and heavy, filled with the extra weight that had accumulated over the course of the night. His pants, which used to fit comfortably, were now pinching at the waist, the fabric pulling tight against his thickened thighs and hips.

Jason stared at himself for a moment, taking it all in. His face looked rounder too, a soft flush of color on his cheeks, as if the weight had even settled there. His lips parted, a silent exhale escaping as he looked down at his bloated belly once more, still feeling the pressure build, almost as if he had more room to grow. The fullness inside him was so intense that he could hear his own stomach growling softly, even though he knew he couldn’t possibly eat another thing.

“God, this is insane,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. The discomfort was real, but so was the strange sensation of satisfaction—like he’d just indulged in something he couldn't control. Magic had a way of making everything *feel* so much more intense. And now, he had no choice but to live with the results.

With a sigh, Jason turned away from the mirror, giving his stomach a gentle rub as if comforting the weight inside him. He felt his body shift, a slight jiggle in his belly as he moved toward his bedroom. It was impossible to ignore the strain on his clothes, or the constant pressure on his stomach, but there was nothing he could do about it now. 

He collapsed onto his bed, the soft mattress groaning under his new weight. The cool sheets felt nice against his warm skin, but his stomach was too tight, too swollen to allow him to get comfortable. He shifted a bit, but his belly was so large now that it wouldn’t let him relax fully.

Just as he was about to close his eyes and try to forget about the strange night he’d had, a familiar scent wafted through the room. It was faint at first, but unmistakable—the sweet, warm smell of freshly baked cookies. Jason’s eyes popped open, his heart skipping a beat.

“No way…” he murmured, lifting his head from the pillow to sniff the air more intently. The scent was drifting in from somewhere. The familiar, inviting aroma of gingerbread, sugar, and spice. It wasn’t just in his mind, he could *smell* it.

Jason groaned, his stomach grumbling again, this time from something more than just fullness. It was that same deep, empty hunger he had felt earlier—magically induced, of course—but it was so overwhelming that he almost couldn’t fight it. His body *wanted* more. 

His eyes darted toward the door, half-expecting Santa to appear, carrying another plate of magic cookies. He could already picture them—those warm, sugary treats, the kind that filled him with a sense of indulgence and the promise of more weight, more fullness. 

The thought alone was enough to make him sit up, but the pressure in his belly made him stop. He didn’t know if he could take more, but the smell—*oh, the smell*—was so tempting, so irresistible. 

He groaned and turned over onto his side, clutching at his belly, trying to settle himself down. *Not again,* he told himself. *I’ve had enough for one night.*

But the scent was still there. Faint, but lingering. And Jason realized, with a sinking feeling, that no matter how much he tried to ignore it, that magic had already sunk deep into his bones. It wasn’t just in his body—it was in his mind too.

With a frustrated sigh, Jason closed his eyes again, trying to push away the hunger, the pull of that magic. 

But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that the next time he smelled those cookies, he might not be able to resist. The thought made him shudder, even as he drifted off to sleep, his body still heavy and full, his stomach aching from the weight of what he had already consumed. 

Part 2 will be posted on December 25th

[icanseethefuture333]

18+ PAC: Who wants to slide down your chimney? 🎅🏼🍪🥛

A very nonsense Christmas collab with @icyg4l ❤️🎄🎁 happy holidays everyone!

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

In & Out by Red Velvet

Stay The Night by The Internet

Sex With Me by Rihanna

Seven of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, The Empress, Sing, Drink Tea, Soulmate, & Fun Times

Howdy, pile 1 🤠! It’s giving: “I’m working late ‘cus I’m a singer~🎤” there’s something about needing to warm up your throat 👀☕️? Oh my 🤭 this person really wants to hear your voice. Maybe you and this person meet during karaoke. I’m getting that they are also very vocal in the bedroom and wants to voice their needs and wants. I’m getting a “wife pleaser” so something about being in a tank top and boxers or pajamas. This person loves seeing you dress casually or being comfortable. They also adore your bare face or admire how your face looks with no makeup. Your sp could be considered grounded and attentive, they are in tuned with their emotions. They could know how to please the opposite sex and are in touch with their feminine side (especially if it’s someone with masculine energy). I’m seeing that they want to rub you through your panties/briefs 🫠, pushing it to the side as they rub your knit🧶/play with your snowballs ☃️. If you came, they would lick and/or suck their fingers. Admiring your taste and smell. They really enjoy having fun with you, pile 1! Perhaps this is a coworker or someone you’ll meet in a bar. They are charming and have a suave way about how they carry themselves. Confident but not cocky. This person will want to buy you a drink or offer to take you out on a date. I’m even seeing you having a little too much eggnog. You guys might even have public sex or have sex in the bathroom?! 😅 yeah y’all are definitely going on Santa’s naughty list😈

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Lay You Down by Jimmy Brown

we fell in love in october by girl in red

HOT TO GO! by Chappell Roan

Knight of Wands, The Emperor, Queen of Pentacles, Burning Bowl Ritual, Massage, True Love, & Friendship

Cheers, pile 2 🥂! You may have felt drawn to pile 1 as well, I recommend that you read both! Anyways, I’m seeing romance and lust blossoming possibly between the same sex. You could be a part of the LGBTQ community or perhaps you are friends with people who are queer. You seem to be open minded and eager to try new experiences. I believe that you are someone who is level headed and capable of taking care of themselves. Responsible but also down to party. Your friends greatly appreciate you! I’m seeing you meeting this person at a club or a crowded holiday party. For some of you this will be a dinner party. This person will be eyeing you from across the room and will come over to speak you, you might feel nervous around this person because there is a mutual attraction that you don’t experience too often. You guys will spend the entire night talking and one or the other will invite them back to their place. “Chestnuts roasting by an open fire~” 🪵🔥. You and this person could have sex on the couch or by the fireplace. You will take charge of them and ride on top. The sex could be slow but get progressively harder and faster 🥵. I feel that you needed this more than this person does lol but they will love being at your mercy. Perhaps it’s been a long time since you had sex or a good orgasm, this person will provide just that. I’m seeing you roaming your hands over their body and massaging, grabbing, or groping at their flesh. This person will have a firm grip on your hips and would graze their fingers over your thighs. I believe for some of you this is a friend or an acquaintance, which could develop into something more overtime but for now will be a friends with benefits situation.

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Sin City by Chrishan

Gentleman by KISS OF LIFE

Q U E V A S H A C E R H O Y? by Omar Courtz, De La Rose

Nine of Cups, Ace of Swords, The High Priestess, Chanting, Flow Like Water, Gifts, & Union

Have a ho ho ho-lly jolly Christmas, pile 3 👠! I have a strong feeling you might hook up with a fratboy or sorority girl. If they aren’t in a frat/sorority, then something about this person just gives that vibe. They could be pretty popular and attractive, so they are used to getting what they want. You might not care about this person at all but know you could gain something from them by hanging out with them. You could also just see them as hot but maybe lack total trust in them. They might come off as a typical “fuckboy/girl” to you, so you’re not entirely giving your heart to them, just wanting to enjoy the sleigh ride 🦌🛷 . Something about food play as well? Strawberries, whip creams, or popsicles. They really like your lips so lots of passionate kissing or they want to receive head from you. They can be pretty cocky in the bedroom and once you guys start undressing your clothes, they will immediately smile once they see your body. You could be a brat and this person is a brat tamer. You will brush them off when they tease you and be like “whatever your dick isn’t even that big🙄”. You could also wear cute lingerie or your sp will want to keep it for themselves as a souvenir 😋. I feel like the sex would be raw or there won’t be any condoms (crazy work💀) or someone is on birth control at least. This person really likes your ass so I’m getting spankings and 🥛🥧. I feel like it would be so loooooud omg 😭 this person will have you chanting their name or I’m getting lots of “ooo yes!” and moaning. Some of you in this pile speak a foreign language, Spanish specifically - “si papi”. “I said the neighbors know my name they way you screamin scratchin yellin” Rip to your neighbors smh🫠

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

The Body by Wale ft. Jeremiah

A Seat by Arin Ray

2 hands by Tate McRae

Queen of Swords, Ten of Cups, Justice, Dance, Movement, Mature, & Children

Seasons greetings, pile 4 🌠! This person wants to be “Body to body, cheek to cheek🎶” they want your bodies dancing together between the sheets. Your sp appreciates closeness and wishes to be physically intimate. With this person, they are logical, decisive, and upfront. They value family and honor trust. They could be older than you or have a more traditional perspective on love. For some of you, someone has gray hairs developing (either you or them)🎅🏼. They might have children already as well. Perhaps they are divorced or have had children with former partners? It could also mean your sp is well established in their career and is wishing to settle. If you are already in a relationship with this person, then they could want to make love and have a baby over the holidays 🤰🫃. I’m seeing it would be just you guys alone for Christmas, enjoying a nice glass of wine or champagne. You and your person could be listening to music and will dance to slow jams and then it will progress into something more. Kissing and tearing each other’s clothes off as you stumble towards to the bedroom. “I saw Santa kissing mommy”!? If some of you have children and this isn’t their parent, I suggest you make sure your kids are asleep before kissing this person, they might snoop and be nosy 🤣. I’m seeing you mostly laying on your back or stomach during the act, switching positions from missionary to downward dog. This person wants to fuck with intention✨, by going deep and slow. Their goal is to make sure you climax and get to feel the pleasure you always give them. They are big on giving and receiving. I see this person even running a bath with rose petals or giving you massage afterwards, providing you with aftercare. What a heartwarming moment 💕

[salemrph]

"A Hunter's Christmas Hustle" Sylus x MC

Summary: With Christmas around the corner, you’re on a mission to find the perfect gift for everyone, that's included Sylus, a famously tricky person to shop for. You asked for help but can the twins really help you? Sometimes the effort is the best part of the holiday magic.

Character: MC x Sylus

Genre: holiday comedy, slice-of-life, fluff | Pet names : Kitten, Sweetie, Miss Hunter.

| Word count: 3.916 | Reading Time: 16 min | AO3

A/N: Since this is the first Christmas of Love and Deepspace, at least for me, I'm looking forward for a special Event and have a cute moment between Sylus and MC.

Second part🌲: A Hunter's Christmas Hustle: X-mas morning

You lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It still feels a bit strange staying at Sylus’ place on your days off. Well, it was mostly his doing— he’d insist or come up with some random excuse or side mission to make you stay. So, at the end you agree to come visit him without needing to drag you in dirty business. It's cozy here, even if you’re not quite used to it yet.

Like always you scroll through your phone, noticing you getting a lot of Christmas ads. You squint at the screen, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the holiday promotions. Suddenly, you glance at the date on your phone. Fuck! Christmas is in 1 week. And you haven’t prepared anything. Weren’t there also a Party coming up with the team? No, no, no! You go trough the calendar. There is it: 24 of December. Christmas Party with Team.

You need to go shopping, ordering stuff now would only arrive too late. 

“Okay, okay,” you mutter, trying to make a mental checklist. “I need a present for Tera, flowers for Grandma’s and Clab’s graves...” You pause, feeling a bit emotional at that thought. You take a deep breath and continue, making a list out loud.

“Then there’s Zayne, Xavier, and Rafayel…” Your head starts spinning as you realize just how much you have to do. 

How could you forget? Have you really been that busy lately? It’s not like the whole city isn’t decked out in lights, giant Christmas ads, and festive music playing in every store. 

You realize with a sigh that maybe you’ve been spending way too much time in the N109 Zone, far from the holiday cheer.

“What can I get for the twins...?” you mumble to yourself. Luke and Kieran can be annoying sometimes, but you do like them. Why not bring them a small gift? Then again, you hesitate. If you get something for the twins, Sylus will definitely bother you about it until the end of your days, asking why he didn’t get anything. You're starting to sweat. Maybe he locks you up again in the basement, just for fun. Or worse, he could show up at the Hunters' Association and declare that you are his lover or something. A shiver runs down your spine. This man can be terrifying. 

You know very well how to please your friends and colleagues but Sylus… What do you bring to the man that has everything? 

“Why is he even so fucking rich?” you mutter under your breath, looking around the guest room. The guest room of course has the style of the rest of the mansion. Black. You roll your eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and admiration. You flop back down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it holds the answers. You need something unique, something meaningful... but what could that be? 

You scroll through your phone frantically, searching for bundles, deals, and last-minute gift ideas. In just an hour, you’ve managed to check off most of your list.

Tera: A relaxing spa voucher—she could use a break.

Zayne: A pack of his favorite macarons, winter edition—he’ll love them.

Xavier: A cozy new sweater—you’ve told him a million times not to fall asleep everywhere. You sigh, picturing him dozing off on some random spot.

Rafayel: A unique shell you found on a mission weeks ago. You haven’t had a chance to give it to him yet, but now’s the perfect time.

Flowers: Ordered, check.

You tap your phone, thinking about the twins, Luke and Kieran. What would they like? You decide on some kind of gadget or toy—they’re like two overgrown kids sometimes, and they’ll appreciate anything they can mess around with.

Another hour passes, and you’re still glued to your phone, opening and closing tabs like a mad person. Your brain is starting to fog up from the overload of gift ideas.

“No... no... lame... oh god, definitely not.” You swipe through a blog about gifts for wealthy people and somehow end up on a page titled “Top 10 Gifts for Your Rich Boyfriend.” Your cheeks go bright red as you skim the list: sexy underwear, romantic getaways, candlelit dinners...

“NO!” You throw your phone onto the bed like it’s on fire, covering your face with your hands. What am I even doing?

You take a deep breath, trying to calm down. Maybe you could ask Luke and Kieran for help. They’re close to Sylus and probably know more about his preferences than you do. Plus, he did say you could “use” them whenever you wanted. Why not use them as counselors and pack mules?

Since you don`t want Sylus sniffing around you, you think about a small lie. Or maybe just ask without giving information. The same way he always does 

...

"I need Luke & Kieran for an important mission, can you borrow me them?"

Sylus looks up from his desk, his red eyes studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. He leans back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he regards you. 

"Mission? What are you planning, kitten?" Sylus raises an eyebrow at your words.

"Nothing… jus- they will come back in one piece."

He studies you for a moment, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. He seems to be enjoying your vague and cryptic request, and he's clearly intrigued by what you might be up to. 

"…Alright. You can take them for whatever this 'important mission' is. But they better come back in one piece, or I'm holding you responsible, sweetie. And you don't want to pay the price...“ he snaps his fingers. Both appear immediately. As if they had been hiding in the office. 

"Luke, Kieran, the kitten needs you for a... mission. Do as they say. I expect impeccable work."

"Yes, boss!“ They say in unison.

"Let’s go, guys." I lead them out of the office. "See you, Sylus!"

That was easy. Maybe to easy.

He laughs after the door closes. Wondering how you're going to surprise him this time. He's learned to just go with the flow even though he might have the answer to your little secrets. He just smiled, turning back to focus on his paperwork.

“What are we going to do, miss?” Luke asks with a mischievous grin.

You roll your eyes. “I told you, just call me by my name.”

“Are we blowing something up?” Kieran blurts out, making an exaggerated explosion noise with his mouth.

“Or… cleaning up a messy murder scene?” Luke chimes in, smirking.

“Maybe torture someone!” Kieran’s eyes light up, clearly getting way too excited at the thought.

You sigh, regretting this decision already. They’re like two hyperactive hamsters—deadly, but still hamsters.

“No, no, and no!” you say firmly, waving your hands for emphasis.

“Uuuhhh...” They groan in unison, visibly disappointed.

“We have a better mission,” you declare, crossing your arms. “Change into something decent. We’re heading back to Lincoln City.”

Finally, you’ve arrived in the city. It’s strange seeing them without their usual uniforms and masks. Dressed in casual clothes, they look more like model college boys than the deadly assassins they actually are. Most of the girls passing by can’t help but glance their way, clearly debating whether they should approach the handsome twin brothers.

You snort to yourself. Probably they would’ve attracted less attention in their usual assassin gear.

You’re standing in the middle of the bustling shopping district, the holiday decorations casting a festive glow around you. Luke and Kieran are busy taking in the sights, clearly amused by the sudden change of scenery. You clear your throat to get their attention.

“Alright, listen up,” you say, trying to sound authoritative. “The mission is...” They lean in, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Shopping” you declare.

“Shopping?” they repeat in unison, voices filled with disbelief.

Luke looks like he’s trying not to laugh, while Kieran’s expression twists into mock horror.

“Wait, wait,” Kieran says, holding up a hand. “You dragged us all the way out here... for shopping?”

“Yes, and you’re going to help me,” you reply.

Luke smirks, giving you a playful nudge. “You sure this isn’t just an excuse to spend time with us, Miss?”

You shoot him a glare. “Call me by my name, Luke.”

“Right, right,” he says, grinning.

“I actually need your help for...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. You look away, rubbing the back of your neck. “Christmas is around the corner, and I wanted to buy Sylus something. I’m not sure what it should be, so...” 

Before you can finish, Luke and Kieran burst into giggle. They exchange a quick, knowing glance, clearly delighted by your admission.

“Oh, so you want to buy our boss a present, huh? That’s pretty cute” Luke teases, smirking.

Kieran nudges him with his elbow, grinning from ear to ear. “And you’re asking us for help? Luke, maybe she does have a soft spot for boss after all.”

You feel your cheeks flush, but you roll your eyes to cover it. “Are you two going to help me or not?”

Luke straightens up, placing a hand on his chest with a mock-serious expression. “If you’re serious about buying a gift for the boss, then you’ve definitely come to the right place. We don’t call ourselves his right-hand men for nothing.”

You exhale, feeling a bit relieved now that they seem genuinely eager to help. “I want something special. Something he wouldn’t expect, but that he’d actually like.”

Kieran tilts his head, pretending to think deeply. “Something unexpected, huh? Well, that’s tricky. Sylus pretty much has everything.”

“Yeah, exactly,” you say, feeling a bit helpless. “I was thinking about getting him some records, but he already has so many...”

Luke and Kieran nod in agreement, their expressions thoughtful. 

“It’s a good start. He does love his music. But you don’t want to give him something he already has, right?” Luke asked. 

“How about something more personal?” Kieran suggests, tapping his chin. “Something that shows you put a lot of thought into it. A gift only you could give him.”

You bite your lip, considering it. “Personal... but how?”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be anything fancy,” Luke says, shrugging. “The boss isn’t as complicated as he looks. He’d appreciate anything that comes from you.”

Kieran gives a playful smirk. “You could just wrap yourself up with a bow, and he’d be over the moon.”

“Kieran!” you gasp, your cheeks turning red as you lightly smack his arm. He laughs, dodging away with a wink. 

Luke chuckles but gives you a more genuine smile. “He’s joking—mostly. But seriously, boss isn’t the kind of guy who cares about expensive gifts. He’d value something that reminds him of you, or a shared memory.”

You pause, mulling it over.

Kieran nudges Luke, a sudden spark lighting up his eyes. “Hey, what about that old record shop on the Avenue? They’ve got vintage records you can’t find anywhere else. You could look for a rare one, maybe something with a story behind it.”

Luke nods, his eyes brightening as well. “Yeah, and you could pair it with a handwritten note. Tell him why you picked it. He’d love that.”

You smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “That’s... actually a great idea. Thanks, you two.”

Kieran gives you a thumbs-up. “No problem, but you owe us for this.”

Luke grins. “Yeah, and don’t forget to give us the credit when he’s showering you with kisses later.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Fine, fine. Now let’s go before I change my mind.”

The twins laugh, and the three of you set off down the busy shopping street, feeling a new wave of excitement. Maybe this gift hunt wasn’t going to be so impossible after all.

In the end, you managed to buy everything for your friends—even for Captain Jenna, who isn’t exactly easy to shop for. But as you wandered through the record store, flipping through album after album, nothing stood out. Everything felt generic, impersonal. And you know Sylus well enough to realize that giving him something half-hearted would just fuel his endless teasing for weeks. 

By the end of the day, the twins delivered you at home after treating them for dinner. You're tired and leave all your bags in the living room of your apartment. You throw yourself down on the couch and take out your phone. Maybe you were overthinking this. A nice accessory or a bottle of whiskey could work—he has a taste for the finer things, after all. It wouldn’t be anything cheap, either; you can afford something like that with your Hunter salary.

The day passes, only 2 days for Christmas and you still have nothing. 

Desperate for ideas, you even tried bringing it up with Tera over lunch. That turned into a chaotic disaster, though. It was exhausting dodging her barrage of questions:

“Who’s the gift for? Why are you even so worried? Wait, do you have a new boyfriend? I demand to meet him!”

You had to laugh it off, making up half-baked excuses until she finally dropped it—though you could tell she didn’t believe you.

And then there was Sylus himself. Yesterday, he sent you an invitation to a Christmas dinner. You wanted to say yes, but you had already committed to the Hunters’ Association Christmas party that same night. You tried to decline, but after some back-and-forth, you reluctantly agreed to meet him afterward.

Now, sitting alone on the couch, you can’t help but replay that conversation in your mind. The way his voice softened when you said you couldn’t make it, the slight pause before he insisted on seeing you later anyway—it made your chest tighten. He sounded almost... disappointed. And that’s what makes you want to find something truly meaningful, something that will show him how much he means to you without you having to say it out loud.

You look at your reflection in the darkened screen of your phone, feeling a mix of frustration and anticipation. You’re running out of time. If you’re going to surprise him with something from the heart, you need to figure it out now.

With a new sense of determination, you push yourself off the couch and grab your coat. Maybe you won’t find the perfect gift sitting around here. It’s time to get back out there and keep looking, because if there’s one person you want to make smile this Christmas, it’s Sylus. But be honest, you´re not going to admit that. Not yet. 

...

It’s Christmas! The party with your unit is small but cozy. The space is filled with the warm glow of twinkling lights, the scent of spiced wine, and the sound of laughter echoing off the walls. You drink, you eat, and you feel a rare sense of contentment as you watch everyone enjoying the night. It’s moments like these that remind you why you love this chaotic, ragtag team.

The gifts you bought last minute seem to have gone over well. Captain Jenna grinned when she unwrapped the sleek new knife you picked out for her—a practical gift, just like she’d like it. Xavier looked genuinely pleased with the soft, oversized sweater you chose, already pulling it on and joking about how he wouldn’t fall asleep everywhere now. Tera hugged you tight, eyes sparkling as she held up the spa voucher. “You really do know me,” she said with a teasing smile.

Earlier in the morning, you made a quick stop by the hospital to drop off the bag of special winter-edition macarons for Zayne. And you place the flower on the graveyard. Pray for them and wishing that you could spent one more day with them.

You glance at your watch. It’s getting late, and you promised Sylus you’d meet him after this. You take a deep breath, excusing yourself quietly from the party. Tera shoots you a knowing look as you head for the door, but she doesn’t say anything—just gives you a little wave, as if to say, good luck. 

You pull your coat tighter around yourself, clutching the gift in your hand as you start walking. There’s a mixture of excitement and fear bubbling up inside you.

Suddenly your watch vibrates urgently and flashes a warning: MetaFlux Fluctuation Detected. Your heart skips a beat. A Wanderer? Now?! You glance around, scanning the quiet street for any signs of danger. The distant sound of a woman’s scream breaks the silence, and without hesitation, you sprint in the direction of the noise, already reaching for your weapon. 

The first Wanderer lunges out from the shadows, its distorted form shifting and writhing in the dim light. You don’t waste a second. One precise shot, and it disintegrates into a cloud of shimmering dust.

„My child! Where is he?“ the woman cries out, panic in her voice. You look around fast, this is not over. 

„Mom!! Help!“ You hear the voice of the kid nearby and run over. You bolt towards the sound, pushing your legs harder. You reach the boy just in time, shielding him with your body as another Wanderer lunges forward. The creature’s claws slice through the air, narrowly missing you. You fire three quick shots, each one hitting its mark. The Wanderer lets out a guttural screech before it vanishes into thin air, dissolving into the night.

"Are you okay?“ you ask, your voice softer now, concerned. The boy nodded. His mother rushes over, wrapping her arms around him and thanking you over and over, her voice thick with emotion.

The mother and child thank you from the bottom of their hearts before leaving. You tell them to please stop by the hospital, just in case. You wave goodbye to the boy. Sigh. What a night!

"Where's my bag?" you mutter, scanning the area. You spot it lying on the ground, right where you dropped it before sprinting into action. Relief floods through you—until you notice the dark, wet stain spreading across the fabric. 

"No, no, no! Please no," you whisper, crouching down and unzipping the bag with trembling hands. The bottle of whiskey you were hunting down the last two days. Is shattered in thousand pieces.

Your heart sinks. This wasn’t just any whiskey—it was a rare, vintage bottle from a small distillery he’d mentioned once, in passing, when he thought you weren’t listening.

„Fuck!" 

You stand up, clutching the soaked bag, and check the time on your watch.

22:30.

You’re supposed to meet Sylus in half an hour, and you’re still a good fifteen minutes away from his place. Panic bubbles up inside you. Maybe you can find a late-night shop that carries something similar. Maybe there’s still a chance to fix this.

"I can make it," you say aloud, more to convince yourself than anything.

…

You finally arrive at the meeting point—a lookout near the water. It’s the same place where you spent last winter with him, watching the fireworks together.

“Kitten, you told me you were at a party, not a battlefield. What happened?”

“Eh?”

You’ve been running around for the last 30 minutes trying to find that stupid bottle and make it on time to meet Sylus. A little embarrassed, you attempt to fix your clothes and smooth your hair. Your cheeks are flushed from the effort. Sylus stands there in his black coat, looking amazing as always. Your heart beats hard in your chest. He watches you, trying to piece together what happened, and then a smile tugs at his lips.

“Even on days like this, you don’t get a break, Miss Hunter?” He runs his hand gently across your face. You flinch slightly, wincing in pain. “You’ve got a small cut. So... are you going to tell me what happened?”

“Nothing, just a Wanderer. It will heal,” you say with a shrug. He sighs softly.

“Careless as usual.” He pulls a small band-aid from his pocket. “Stay still.”

“Why do you have something like that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“It so happens that I have a kitten who never pays attention to their injuries,” he teases.

You make an exaggerated offended grimace, but inside, it feels like a small gesture of affection. He places the band-aid gently over the cut.

“I’ll consider this your Christmas gift,” you joke.

He laughs. “Oh no, sweetie, that wouldn’t be enough. But I’m impressed with your minimalist idea of happiness.” He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an envelope.

“You didn’t have...”

“Open it up. And thank me later.”

You take the envelope cautiously, slowly peeling it open. Could it explode? You shake your head at the silly thought. When you finally look inside, your eyes widen, and you let out a soft squeal of excitement.

“Are you for real? This tickets has been sold out for months. How did you…?”

“I have my ways, sweetie,” he replies with a smug smile.

“Thank you,” you whisper, genuinely touched.

“It’s always a pleasure making you happy.”

But your excitement fades quickly as the realization sinks in. He’s managed to make you immensely happy again, while you stand here empty-handed. You have been looking for the perfect gift and you have screwed up at the last minute. On top, you haven't found a replacement for the bottle. 

"I wanted to give you something too for Christmas...“ you started. Closing the envelope and putting it in your pocket. "but... it broke while I was protecting a kid from a Wanderer.“ You look down at your feet, feeling small and pathetic, your shoulders slumping under the weight of disappointment.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Sylus gently lifts your chin with a finger, guiding your gaze back to him. He smiles, that soft, understanding smile that always makes you feel seen. Without a word, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a warm embrace. The chill of winter seems to disappear in his hold, replaced by the comforting heat of his body.

“The best gift is having you by my side, kitten.” he whispers into your ear, his voice low and sincere.

You feel your heart beating faster.

"Actions speak louder than words"

You agree with Sylus that both would be more honest with each other. Maybe now is the time to show him just how important he is to you. You spent so much time looking for something to buy that you forgot that the simplest gifts are often the most meaningful, especially when they come straight from the heart.

"Sylus… I actually have something else."

"Oh, is that so?“ 

„Can... I borrow your face?" He loosens his grip slightly and steps back, taking your hands in his, warming them up. He looks at you, amused and curious, and leans down.

"Close your eyes..." you whisper. He doesn’t say anything but does as you ask, his smile softening as he relaxes his face. You take a deep breath, feeling your heart race, each beat echoing louder in your chest.

The world falls silent for a moment—it's just the two of you, suspended in time. The anticipation tingles through you as you lean closer, closing the distance between you.

You press your lips gently against his cheek, and the warmth of his skin against your lips is electric. It’s a simple kiss, but it carries all the unspoken words you couldn’t say out loud. A silent confession. You linger there for just a heartbeat longer, feeling him inhale sharply, as if caught off guard by the intimacy of it. As you pull back, the first snowflakes begin to fall, drifting slowly from the sky. The soft touch of snow melts against your skin, but Sylus holds you close, not letting the moment slip away.

„Now... that’s a present only you could have given me." He gives you the most tender smile. "Thank you."

He looks like he wants to say something else but remains silent. Instead, he pulls you into a deeper embrace, burying his face in your hair as the snow continues to fall softly around you. You’re more than fine with that. No, you’re happy—grateful for this sweet moment.

You realize you’re a step closer to falling for him completely, accepting that the connection between you two is stronger than you ever imagined.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling with genuine joy.

“Merry Christmas, kitten.”

Second part🌲: A Hunter's Christmas Hustle: X-mas morning

[12daysofchristmas]

Join us in the 2024 12 Days of Christmas Challenge as we hope to spread a little ✨holiday joy and cheer✨ through the magic of writing fanfiction & creating art!

About & Rules

The challenge will run from December 13-24, 2024.

The challenge is open to any and all fandoms.

Submissions must include at least one of the prompts for that day but can combine two, three, or all four.

Prompts for the day always include: a word/words, a scenario, a quote, a "famous" quote (taken from songs and movies)

Tag your submissions with #12daysofchristmas2024 and/or mention this blog so that we will be notified to reblog your submissions here. (Also, it would be super cool if you gave this blog a follow!)

Submissions for the day must be posted before midnight YOUR time. We're not super hard-and-fast about this rule, but posting within time is very much appreciated! 

If you’re posting your submission directly on Tumblr (as opposed to linking to an external site such as AO3), you MUST use a “keep reading” cut!

Edit: We're now also allowing ALL KINDS OF ART: drawings, edits, aesthetics, mood boards, videos, podfics, fiber arts... go wild!

!! Absolutely NO AI creations !!

Please format ALL submissions with the following heading:

Title Day/Prompt(s) Fandom/Character(s)/Ship Warnings (if applicable): Word Count/Medium (in case it's art):  Example: Santa, Baby Day 8 - “Prompt(s) for that day” AEW - Adam Page x OC Warnings: Alcohol, cursing, sexual situations (explicit) Word Count: 7,290 or: Medium: fan video

You can also include a summary, gif, edit, whatever you want! Just don’t forget the “keep reading” if you’re posting directly on Tumblr!

If you're posting on AO3, here's our collection: 12 Days of Christmas Collection

2024 Prompts

Day 1 ❄️ First snow ❄️ Getting soaked ❄️ “Your hands are so cold.” ❄️ “I suppose it all started with the snow.” —Frosty the Snowman

Day 2 ❄️ Little lie ❄️ Trapped together in a snowstorm ❄️ “I thought you knew where you were going?!” ❄️ “I don’t know what to say, but it’s Christmas, and we’re all in misery.” —National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation

Day 3 ❄️ Accelerated heartbeat ❄️ Kissing in the snow ❄️ “Here, take my coat.” ❄️ “Let's hope the snow will make this Christmas right.” —Queen

Day 4 ❄️ Mulled wine ❄️ Playing board games ❄️ “I have no regrets.” ❄️ “Cheer up, dude. It's Christmas.” —How the Grinch Stole Christmas, 2000

Day 5 ❄️ Cookies ❄️ Holiday-themed contest ❄️ “That definitely looks… interesting?” ❄️ “That is exactly why you want a high-quality fire extinguisher right in the kitchen.” —The Santa Clause

Day 6 ❄️ Present ❄️ Making a new Christmas tradition ❄️ “Not another Christmas movie!” ❄️ “You say you hate Washington’s birthday or Thanksgiving, and nobody cares, but you say you hate Christmas, and people treat you like you’re a leper.” —Gremlins

Day 7 ❄️ Decorations ❄️ A little accident ❄️ “I was just trying to help!” ❄️ “I want my house to be seen from space.” —Deck The Halls

Day 8 ❄️ Touch starved ❄️ Telling secrets around the fire ❄️ “Sometimes the hardest part is forgiving yourself.” ❄️ “Santa, can't you hear me?” —Ariana Grande & Kelly Clarkson

Day 9 ❄️ Christmas fair/market ❄️ Late shopping (together) ❄️ “Hmm, this is actually not bad.” ❄️ “When you're still waiting for the snow to fall, doesn't really feel like Christmas at all.” —Coldplay

Day 10 ❄️ Surprise visit ❄️ Lighting scented candles ❄️ “I didn’t know you were here.” ❄️ “You’re skipping Christmas! Isn’t that against the law?” —Christmas with the Kranks

Day 11 ❄️ Fairy lights ❄️ Christmas party/ball ❄️ “I never want this night to end.” ❄️ “I won’t even wish for snow. And I’m just gonna keep on waiting, underneath the mistletoe.” —Mariah Carey

Day 12 ❄️ Feast ❄️ Indoor picnic by the tree/fireplace ❄️ “I baked your favourite cookie/pie/cake.” ❄️ “You are all I need tonight underneath the Christmas lights.” —Sia

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The Unwanted Wingman | LN4

⋆☃︎⛸️✧˖°❅🕯️༘⋆𐙚 summary ━━━━━━━ At a Christmas party, Y/N is encouraged to confess her feelings to Ed, but Lando interrupts, admitting that he likes her.

⋆☃︎⛸️✧˖°❅🕯️༘⋆𐙚 pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

⋆☃︎⛸️✧˖°❅🕯️༘⋆𐙚 word count ━━━━━━━ 2.1k

London’s winter air carried the crisp chill of December, painting the streets with a blend of frosty mist and holiday cheer. Fairy lights twinkled from shop windows. Inside a warm and festively decorated flat in South Kensington, Y/N found herself amid the buzz of a Christmas party that swayed between cozy and chaotic. She had agreed to come last minute, swayed by the promise of mulled wine and a chance to see old friends.

The host, Max Fewtrell, had outdone himself. The room was decked out with garlands, a towering Christmas tree glittering with baubles, and enough food and drinks to cater a small army. It was packed with familiar faces, some she hadn't seen in years, and others who still graced her day-to-day life.

One of those faces was Lando Norris.

Lando, the golden boy of Formula 1, had a charisma that was impossible to ignore. He was dressed casually yet effortlessly stylish, his laughter echoing through the room as he animatedly told a story to a group of friends. Though he lived in Monaco now, his visits to the UK were frequent, as his close-knit circle and family remained rooted here.

Y/N and Lando weren’t strangers. In fact, they’d been part of the same extended friend group for years. He was the type to make everyone feel at ease, his boyish charm and wit drawing people to him like moths to a flame. They were friendly, but not close—at least, not in the way where they’d share secrets or seek each other out in a crowded room. Still, there was an undeniable comfort in his presence, like he was a part of the furniture in the tapestry of her life.

At that moment, though, Y/N wasn’t thinking about Lando. She was leaning against the kitchen counter, a glass of mulled wine in hand, talking to her best friend, Pietra.

“Okay, you have to tell him tonight,” Pietra whispered, her tone conspiratorial.

“Tell who what?” Y/N asked, feigning innocence but failing miserably.

Pietra rolled her eyes. “You know who. Ed. You’ve been crushing on him for months. You can’t keep staring at him from across the room like a lovesick teenager.”

Y/N groaned, her eyes darting to where Jamie stood near the Christmas tree, laughing at something another friend said. He looked annoyingly good in his navy jumper, the kind of effortlessly handsome that made her palms sweat.

“I can’t just tell him,” Y/N protested. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way? Or worse, what if he does, and then it gets weird?”

Pietra gave her a pointed look. “You’re overthinking it. Just talk to him. You’re both adults. It’s not that deep.”

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Lando had walked into the kitchen just in time to catch the tail end of their conversation. He wasn’t eavesdropping—at least, not intentionally—but the mention of Ed’s name caught his attention.

Ed? Y/N liked Ed?

Lando frowned, a pang of annoyance flashing through him. It wasn’t like he had a reason to feel that way. He and Y/N weren’t a thing. They weren’t even close friends. But the thought of her liking someone else, someone as boringly predictable as Ed, didn’t sit well with him.

Without thinking, Lando decided to intervene.

He sauntered up to the counter, his smile wide and mischievous. “What are we gossiping about, ladies?”

Y/N jumped slightly, her cheeks flushing. “Nothing. Just... stuff.”

“Stuff?” Lando teased, raising an eyebrow. “That sounds suspiciously vague.”

Pietra smirked, catching on to Lando’s nosiness. “Y/N was just saying she has a crush on someone at the party.”

“Pietra!” Y/N hissed, her face heating up.

Lando’s smile faltered for a split second before he quickly recovered. “A crush, huh? Well, you’ve come to the right person. I’m an expert in these matters.”

“An expert in what? Meddling?” Y/N shot back, trying to deflect.

“Helping,” Lando corrected, his grin returning. “And lucky for you, I happen to be an excellent wingman.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, skeptical. “I don’t need a wingman.”

“Of course, you don’t,” Lando said smoothly. “But imagine how much faster things could move along with my help.”

Before Y/N could protest further, Lando had already decided he was going to wingman her—whether she wanted him to or not.

Lando’s first attempt at “helping” came not long after. Ed had moved to the makeshift bar in the corner of the living room, and Y/N had finally gathered enough courage to approach him. She was halfway across the room when Lando intercepted her path.

“Hey, Y/N!” he said, stepping directly in front of her.

“What are you doing?” she asked, trying to sidestep him.

“Just checking in,” he said innocently. “You looked like you were on a mission.”

“I was,” she replied, trying not to sound annoyed. “I was going to talk to Ed.”

Lando’s eyes twinkled with mock concern. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean, he’s... well, he’s kind of boring, isn’t he?”

Y/N blinked, taken aback. “What are you talking about? Ed’s not boring.”

“I don’t know,” Lando said, shrugging. “He just doesn’t seem like your type.”

“And what exactly is my type?” she challenged, crossing her arms.

Lando opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, seemingly at a loss. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “But it’s definitely not him.”

Y/N sighed, brushing past him. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Lando’s next attempt was less direct but no less effective. Y/N had finally managed to corner Ed near the dessert table, and they were chatting amiably about holiday plans when Lando swooped in.

“Ed!” Lando exclaimed, clapping him on the back. “How’s it going, mate?”

Ed smiled, though he looked slightly confused by Lando’s sudden enthusiasm. “Good, thanks. You?”

“Oh, you know, living the dream,” Lando said breezily. “Hey, did you know Y/N here is absolutely terrified of eggnog? Like, she won’t even go near it.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s not—”

“Is that true?” Jamie asked, amused.

“No!” Y/N said firmly, shooting Lando a glare. “He’s making that up.”

“Am I?” Lando said, feigning innocence. “Remember that time at Pietra’s party last year? You practically bolted when someone brought out a pitcher of eggnog.”

“That didn’t happen!” Y/N snapped, her cheeks burning.

Ed chuckled, clearly entertained by the exchange. “Well, I’ll make sure to keep any eggnog far away from you, just in case.''

Y/N groaned inwardly as Lando grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

By the end of the night, Y/N was frustrated beyond belief. Every time she’d tried to make progress with Ed, Lando had been there, either distracting her or derailing the conversation. It wasn’t until she caught him smirking after yet another failed attempt that it clicked.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” she said, cornering him in the hallway.

Lando looked at her, feigning confusion. “Doing what?”

“Sabotaging me,” she accused. “Every time I try to talk to Ed, you show up and ruin it.”

He held her gaze for a moment, his playful demeanor fading slightly. “Maybe I am,” he admitted finally.

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want you with him,” Lando said simply.

The admission hung in the air between them, heavy and unexpected.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, her voice quieter now.

Lando hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “Because I don’t think he deserves you,” he said finally. “And maybe because I don’t want you with anyone else.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Of all the things he could have said, that was the last thing she’d expected.

“That’s completely unfair,” she said softly, though her tone lacked conviction.

“Maybe,” Lando said, stepping closer. “But I mean it.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the noise of the party fading into the background. Then, before she could overthink it, Y/N closed the distance between them, her lips brushing against his.

Lando froze, then quickly recovered, kissing her back with a mixture of surprise and relief.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N looked up at him, her cheeks flushed. “You’re still the worst wingman ever.”

Lando grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Maybe, but I’m the best at this.”

And for once, Y/N couldn’t argue with him.

The hallway suddenly felt quieter than it should have, given the lively party still going on in the next room. Lando leaned against the wall, his grin softening into something more thoughtful as he looked at Y/N. She crossed her arms, both as a way to steady herself and to process what had just happened.

“So, what happens now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando tilted his head, his expression turning serious. “That depends. Are you going to keep pretending you like Ed, or are we going to talk about what’s actually going on here?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, her cheeks still warm. “First of all, I wasn’t pretending to like Ed. He’s genuinely nice, and—”

“And completely not your type,” Lando interrupted, his smirk returning.

“Oh, so you’re the expert on my type now?” she shot back.

“Obviously,” he said, leaning a little closer. “Your type is witty, charming, and—oh—probably a racing driver who lives in Monaco.”

She scoffed, though she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossible to resist, apparently,” he quipped, gesturing between them.

“Lando...” Her tone shifted, her expression sobering. “Are you serious about what you said earlier? About not wanting me with anyone else?”

He hesitated for a moment, as if considering how much of himself he was willing to put out there. Then, with a deep breath, he nodded. “Yeah, I am. I didn’t realize it until tonight, but the thought of you with someone else—it just... didn’t feel right.”

Her heart skipped a beat, his honesty catching her off guard. “You’re not just saying that because of some weird possessive thing, are you? Because I’m not interested in being anyone’s... I don’t know, territory or whatever.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “No, it’s not like that. I just... I’ve liked you for a while, I think. I didn’t realize it until I thought I might lose my chance.”

Y/N studied him, searching his face for any hint of insincerity. She found none. Instead, she saw the same boyish charm she’d always known, but now layered with a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before.

“And what exactly are you proposing?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m proposing,” he said, stepping closer, “that you give me a chance to prove I’m worth more than just being the worst wingman ever.”

She couldn’t help but smile at his earnestness, her heart softening despite her best efforts to remain skeptical. “You know, for someone who lives in Monaco, you’re making this pretty inconvenient for me.”

“Good thing I’m in the UK a lot, then,” he replied smoothly.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “That’s just typical of you,” she said with a playful eye roll.

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he teased, his voice low.

“Debatable,” she countered, though the smile on her face gave her away.

“So, is that a yes?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

She pretended to think about it, drawing out the silence just long enough to make him sweat. Finally, she nodded. “It’s a yes. But if you sabotage me like that again, I’m out.”

Lando grinned, looking like he’d just won pole position. “Deal. No more sabotaging. Unless it’s for a really good reason.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but let him pull her into another kiss, the noise of the party melting away once more.

The next morning, Y/N woke up to a flurry of texts from Pietra.

Pietra: “OMG, what happened with Ed?? Did you tell him?!”

Pietra: “Wait, I saw you talking to Lando later. What was that about?”

Pietra: “Y/N, ANSWER ME. I NEED DETAILS.”

Y/N groaned, pulling the duvet over her head. The events of the previous night came rushing back, and she felt equal parts exhilarated and nervous.

Before she could respond to Pietra, her phone buzzed with another notification. This time, it was from Lando.

Lando: “Morning :) Just checking if you’re still cool with me being the worst wingman ever. Also, breakfast? My treat.”

She couldn’t help but smile as she typed back a quick reply.

Y/N: “You’re still the worst, but fine. Breakfast sounds good.”

Moments later, another message popped up.

Lando: “Great. Pick you up in an hour. Wear something warm. And no eggnog jokes, I promise.”

Shaking her head, Y/N climbed out of bed, a small smile playing on her lips. As much as she hadn’t seen it coming, there was something about Lando—something about them—that just felt... right.

For the first time in a long while, she felt excited about what might come next. And maybe, just maybe, being wing manned by the worst wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[eupheme]

— the season for second third fourth chances

[part v of sugar, sugar] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 4.5k

tags: holiday fluff, reader references/celebrates christmas, misunderstandings, light angst, references to canon-typical anxiety, violence, wade's cancer diagnosis, and death, references plot events in DP 1 & 2, sexual innuendos/implied smut, feelings

With the holidays on the horizon, your afternoons are filled with preparations for Wade’s annual holiday party. With baking and cookie decorating, finishing up wrapping presents - and maybe even a little Christmas miracle, when you find yourself running into a familiar face.

"What?"

It slips from you, as your eyebrows shoot up - glancing down at the piece of cardstock. Before you're adding -

"Why?"

Wade huffs, his finger tapping against the text that loops across the top.

"Don't give me that, Sugar. I spent ages picking out the right font, I know the contrast is enough for you to read it clearly."

And he's right. You can definitely read it, even without the coarse coat of glitter making the headline sparkle.

‘Spread Some Christmas Cheer’

The letters arching above a photo of Wade. His suit on, of course, as he lounges across the lap of what appears to be a mall Santa. Dread in the man’s once-twinkling blue eyes, as one of Wade’s legs drapes across the velvet red suit, the other kicked high against the back of the padded red chair.

‘With Wade Wilson's Winter Wonderland’ in script beneath - with dates and time for his party listed below.

"I can definitely read it," You acknowledge, "I was just asking what, as in what made you take this, and maybe even where, because-"

"Oh," He chuckles, "Yeah, I'm absolutely banned from JCPenney, but worth it, right? This is my best-looking card yet."

You can't help the smile, "It's definitely something."

He grins, "So, you'll come? I heard there might be a certain someone there."

"Is that right?" Your tongue pokes against your cheek.

"Mhmm. Pretty sure he sees you when you're sleeping. Definitely know if you've been naughty or nice, and I know for a fact I've seen you in his lap-"

There's a sound of disgust, as your nose wrinkles, "Okay, can you not talk about Logan that way? I don't need a Santa comparison in my head."

"Just thought I'd spice some things up for you. It's nothing to be ashamed of, we've all had a crush on the big man."

"On who?" There's a rough voice behind you - Logan hand fisted around the fleece jacket tugged from the back of the armchair.

"He knows what I'm talking about," Wade points, "I'm just saying, if Santa needs help handling that sack of his, I'm so fucking down."

"Jesus fucking Christ." An arm curls around you, as Logan glances at the invite, "Wait, this is this weekend?"

"Yes, this weekend," Wade sniffs, "We talked about it yesterday."

"Wasn't home yesterday." Logan's eyebrow cocks, "Or the day before."

"Well, I talked about it with somebody." Wade shrugs - another tapped finger at the bottom of the card, "Anyways, blah, blah, blah. It’s all here, proper name, place name, backstory stuff... just be there, because I know where you live-"

"We'll be there." You interrupt, biting back your smile, "Want me to bring anything?"

Wade's look turns pleased, and then thoughtful, "Well, I was going to get some cookies from Yeastie Boys Bakery..."

The words trailing off, as you groan - already so over the new bakery in town, their stupid jingle and 'viral' cupcakes that taste like shit.

"Don't even talk to me about them."

You can feel the way Logan's hands brace on your shoulder. The low, "he's kidding sweetheart-" rumbled in your ear.

"Guilty." Wade's hands spread wide, "Was just trying to rile you up into offering some of your own splendid wares. Al still talks about the ones you brought over last year. If it’s not too much work…"

The sentence trails off, as he bats his brown, pleading, puppy-dog eyes at you.

"Lead with that next time, asshole." Logan sighs.

"It's not." You answer automatically, though you're already mentally running through your schedule.

The presents you still have to wrap. The loose ends of Wade's gift that you still have to weave in. Another trip to the grocery store, for certain - you'll have to bake at home, since it's a favor.

There's a kiss pressed to your temple, as Logan moves around you.

"I know that look. Don't push too hard, honey." He finishes shrugging on his jacket, "I’ll see if Laura and I can help you out tomorrow."

Wade's voice chiming in, “And let it be known I am formally offering to help, but-”

You huff, “Thank you, but you’re still banned from my kitchen, Wade.”

Still not over the surprise of your gingerbread appearing with piped anatomically correct additions, after you had left him unsupervised last year.

The kiss goodbye you share with Logan lingers, a grateful press of your mouth against his. Wondering what you did to deserve such a man, still ready to pinch yourself every day.

A look in his eyes that matches yours, as he steps around Wade, who still lingers.

"Thanks, Sugar." He grins, "And remember - you better be good for goodness sake-"

You groan, as you shove him out the door. Logan's fingers curling around the collar of Wade’s jacket, the other tugging at the handle.

Unable to help adding your usual farewell, “Be careful out there, okay? Come back safe.”

Not that they need it, not with their powers. But it still feels like a charm, tucked carefully into their pockets as they head out together again - off on a new mission.

"I’ll take care of your Sugar Bear.” It's sung out, muffled behind the closed door. “Love you byeee!"

A sigh, as you shake your head.

Guess you have some work to do.

Your pen marks another item off your list, as you inch your cart through the too-busy grocery store.

It’s already half-filled with other last-minute items. Another couple gifts, now that official date of the party looms on the horizon - you can’t leave Peter, Ellie, and Yukio out, after all.

A new decorative Christmas plate for the cookies - you had lost yours in the impromptu disc golf match that Wade hosted at the apartment last year.

Last you heard, it was still on the roof next door.

Molasses, brown sugar, and spices for gingerbread. A fresh box of food coloring, for the sugar cookies - you were out of red, from last year as well.

A pack of powdered sugar drops down into your cart. Reaching for a second, just as another hand bumps against yours.

Twin apologies chime, as your eyes flick to the side.

Instantly recognizing the woman next to you - the sheepish look on your face cooling.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen in recognition, “Hey.”

“Hi, Vanessa.” You offer a half-smile - the last dregs of your annoyance with Wade vanishing, as you rest the second bag on top of the other.

A beat, before you manage, “How are you?”

“Good. Office party,” She wiggles her own bag, before it slips into the basket at her elbow, “You?”

“Um, I’m good, too.” You shrug, “And no, uh… friend’s party.”

Wade seemed mostly over the disaster that happened close to two months ago. More prone to forgiving and forgetting - gracious, in a way that you could be, when you wanted. That you were, most of the time.

After all, it was easier, to let something slide off your back when it came to a personal grudge. You could be an adult and move on, then.

But it was still hard to forget how crushed Wade had been. How you knew that she knew he had been cooking for her the night she stood him up- a drunken confession that he had seen the notification that she had watched the stories he had snapped for his social media stories.

And even if he was over it, you weren’t sure you were.

“Wade’s party?” She guesses, and it makes you blink.

Wondering when and how she had been invited. As far as you knew, her name hadn’t passed his lips in weeks.

“Yeah.” Your eyes search hers - the tightness in them, how she bites the inside of her cheek, “Are… you?”

“Undecided,” Her lips lift. A breath, before she’s asking, “How’s he been lately? Is he…”

You can’t help the small frown, a mark deepening between your brows, “He’s good.”

A half-truth, before you tack a little more on, “Sure he’s appreciating the extra space. Fixed Al up with a Murphy bed, and Logan’s been staying with me a lot lately.”

“Oh. I thought-” Vanessa’s sentence trails off.

She looks lost for a moment. A glance downward, picking at the manicured edge of a nail.

You haven’t seen her like this before. Too used to her confidence, those sharp edges that you lack.

Pity flickers through you.

“I really have to go. If I don’t start these soon, I’ll be up all night.”

It comes out apologetic - and you realize, you actually mean it, “But why don’t you swing by my apartment in a bit? I’m gonna be baking all afternoon, but I make a mean boozy hot chocolate.”

The look she gives you is tinged with relief.

It’s enough to make you wonder what you’re missing.

“Wait, what?” You yelp - for the second time, in forty-eight hours.

There’s a smudge of flour on your sweater. Holiday music pouring through the speaker on your counter. Vanessa carefully inching the gingerbread cutouts an inch apart.

A shoulder lifting, as she repeats herself, “I said I thought he moved on. With you.”

Not knowing, with the way she had come late to the party where you had met Logan. Left early, with her new corporate schedule.

You almost over-pour the ground cinnamon into the second batch. Tipping it back into the jar, as you let the spoon clatter against the counter. Her head tilts, at your expression.

“You haven’t thought about it? I know you’re both close.”

In another world, perhaps.

Another life - one where you hadn’t met Logan when you did. Hadn’t spent months cheering Wade on, those once barely-there flickers of interest fading to something solidly platonic some time ago.

Your head shakes, the words coming slowly, “It’s always been you, Vanessa. Everyone knows that.”

The corner of her lips lift. Fingernails tapping against the aluminum pan.

“I thought so, too.”

You frown, “Is that why didn’t you show? When he asked you over for dinner?”

Vanessa laughs then, rueful.

“The dinner.” Her eyes flick away, going back to a memory - a beat, before the snap to yours, “Yeah. I wanted to go. I uh, just split with Dermot. From work.”

You nod, remembering - overhearing the conversation at Wade’s birthday.

“He wanted me to move in. Said he saw a future with me, but when it came down to taking that step…” Her lips press together, the lift of a shoulder, “I’ve never seen myself with anyone else. Only him.”

Only Wade.

“But… then I saw you with him. The stories he posted. The two of you cooking, dressed up like a date.” It comes in a rush, “I thought, incorrectly, apparently-”

“He was cooking for you.” There’s a furrow in your brow, trying to piece together the way she saw it.

The sundress you wore for Logan. The captions that tipped towards lewd that you had tried to get him to delete - jokes about “getting lucky”, or the chicken not the only thing “being stuffed tonight”.

She nods, “I’m getting that now.”

“I think you still should have gone.” It’s starting to make sense, but you can’t help the reproach in your tone, ”He was devastated.”

The look she shoots you is defensive. Vanessa had always carried an intensity you lacked, and you take the full brunt of it now. Your fingers curl into fists for strength, not letting your gaze drop first. A beat, before she nods.

“I guess it’s just become easier to run.” Vanessa admits, “Defense mechanism. Get out first. Ironic, I know.”

You frown, not knowing, “Has that… has that happened before?”

“Which time?” Her laugh is close to a scoff, as she sighs.

Your eyes drop now, as you go back to your work. Back to measuring, tipping the spices into your mixer. The words coming slowly.

”He hasn’t told me a lot. Just a bit about last time. About…” You search for the words, feeling guilty. “About him not doing enough. That you wanted him to do something meaningful, and then the stuff with the Avengers, and…”

The words die, when you see her face.

Sorrow and anger, with the sharp shake of her head, “I never gave a damn about the Avengers. That was all Wade.”

A sigh, as she collects herself.

“I just wanted him to find his passion again. He changed… a few years ago. Something happened, a really close call. He fixed it, but he wasn’t the same after.”

A breath, before she adding, “He took it hard. Guilt, I think. All I really wanted was for him to talk to me. To let me help him, but he never let me in because he didn’t want me getting hurt again. He shut down, and stopped talking to me.”

The mixer hums. A beep of your timer, as the minutes tick down.

“You know Wade. Always has a joke ready. Never wants to get serious if he can help it. It’s stupid, but we... drifted.” Vanessa’s throat bobs as she swallows, “I was dealing with my own shit, and when he pushed me away, it reminded me of last time.”

She catches your expression again, as the dough tips out of the bowl. The furrow of your brow, as you swap it for a chilled portion in your fridge.

“It’s been a recurring theme,” It comes out blunt.

Her look turning considering, then, when the frown doesn't waver.

“Do you love Logan?”

The rolling pin slips in your grip. Pressing too hard, denting dough.

“I-,” You breathe. The question unexpected, leaving you wholly unprepared, even as your heart beats out the answer.

Her expression softens, “You care about him.”

You nod mutely.

“What would you do, if Logan just - disappeared? No trace of him, just gone in the night?”

Her question hangs. A physical ache in your chest at the mere thought, one that leaves you unable to breathe. Pieces starting to click together - little bits of what you know, forming some sort of photo.

“Is that what Wade did?”

She nods, “It was right after his cancer diagnosis. He was going through a lot, and just - left. For years. I thought… I thought he had died. I mourned him. It crushed me.”

You can’t help but reach across the table - hesitant, in the way you squeeze her arm.

She lets you, a look shot your way. Defending him, unable to help it.

“I get it, though. I get that it was a lot. I’ve forgiven him. But…” Her teeth pinch at her cheek, that guilt coming back, “When he started pulling away, I thought it was happening again. I couldn’t live through that again.”

You finish for her, “So you left first.”

She nods.

Silence lingers. Nails tapping on the countertop, fiddling with the silver rings on her fingers. The heat of the oven curling across your arms, as you swap one tray for another. Setting it aside to cool.

“You should go talk to him.” Your voice cracks through the quiet, when you turn - hands bracing against the counter.

Her eyebrows raise, “And say what?”

”Tell him what you told me. That you were just scared.” Your voice softens, “He invited you to his party because he still *wants* you in his life.”

She blinks, silent.

“I’ll help you,” You coax, “Logan’s already coming over tonight.”

Your eyes flick down to your phone, checking, ”Uh, really soon, actually. I’ll go next door with you, and bring Althea back with me. Give you two some time to catch up.”

Vanessa’s fingers cards through her hair - pushing back the long strands, the words coming slowly, “I don’t know…”

“Wade is crazy about you.” It comes out bluntly, and it’s this that pulls her attention.

You’re already swiping a container off the counter. Filling the bottom with sugar cookies baked this morning - cut into trees and mittens, decorated with buttercream and sprinkles.

The lid snaps on, as you hold it out to her.

“Trust me?”

Her eyes meet yours, and you can see the swirl of emotions across her face.

You smile and finally - she nods.

She follows a step behind, as you leave the apartment. The hallway chilly, the entrance bringing in a dusting of snow across the carpet, with the revolving holiday traffic.

The closing front door downstairs echoes with your own, as you head the next apartment over. Knuckles rapping against the wood, fingers mentally crossed.

A voice ringing out, muffled, “If you’re part of Rudolph and the Red-Hot Reindeers, you’re a day early-”

Opening to reveal Wade, dressed down in a shirt and sweatpants with his Deadpool logo patterned across them.

“Oh, hey Sugar.” He smiles, “What’s up?”

“Well,” You stall for a second, trying to figure out what exactly to say, “Is Althea home? Was wondering if she could help me with something.”

Wade chuckles.

“Fat fucking chance, she’s two episodes into the Golden Bachelor right now and she’s sure as hell not moving-” The words die out as Vanessa moves into view, the container in hand.

He goes silent, for the first time you can remember.

“I have the same streaming apps as you, I’m sure I can convince her.” Your shift - a hand touching at her shoulder, urging her forward, “And maybe you could do me a favor, too. Taste test these for tomorrow?”

For a moment, you think he doesn’t hear you. His eyes lingering on Vanessa, his face bleeding from surprise to confusion to hope, as he takes her in.

“Yeah.” He manages after a long moment - clearing his throat.

“Yeah. I’d love to.”

It doesn’t take much convincing, not with the way Al enjoys a cup of piping hot tea as much as you do - along with the promise she can watch her beloved show in peace. Almost giddy in the way she makes for the door, cane in hand and Dogpool tucked in the crook of her other arm.

The door just shutting behind you before she’s hissing, “What in God’s name was that?”

You shush her, eyes flicking back towards the apartment. Almost jumping out of your skin when it’s followed by another voice, this one pitched low.

“Seconded. Busy afternoon?”

Logan leans against the wall, Laura expression clear with the pull of her brows. Thirded.

“Something like that.” You herd them inside your apartment, before they can be overheard - not that Wade was listening, you’re sure.

The door is barely shut, before they’re rounding on you. Your own hands on your hips - a nod directing them towards the kitchen table, laden with bare gingerbread cookies.

Al tucked in the armchair, spun around the face the bustle of the kitchen, her show long forgotten.

“You’re stalling.” Laura points out bluntly, as you hand her the bag of icing.

Your tongue tucked against your teeth, as you shoot Logan a look. His eyebrows raised in response, eyes sliding over to the brick wall that separates your apartment from Wade.

“I’m not,” The word strings out, “It’s just, like, it’s not a big deal, right?”

She scoffs.

Althea’s cane taps the ground, “Something happened, and you’d better spill.”

“Alright,” Your fingers spread in front of you, “I ran into Vanessa at the store today. And we got to talking, and I invited her back here. I think she regrets what happened between them.”

There’s a snort of derision, and you can feel yourself starting to bristle.

“We all have our opinions, myself included-” You allow, as another noise interrupts you - lower and more gruff this time. You spin, shooting Logan another look.

“But I think she was genuine. I’ve certainly had my fair share of… miscommunications,” His expressions softens at your words, the corner of his lips curling as you shift to face Al.

“And I got some really good advice once from someone. Something about ‘talking about it’, and that’s what I encouraged her to do.”

“Hope you’re right,” Al sighs- but there’s a smile there, hidden in the way her lips press together, “That boy is more sensitive than my left tit in a snowstorm.”

“Jesus.” It’s muttered, at your shoulder. Logan’s head shaking as he joins Laura, the hint of a smirk as she works on piping a set of angry eyebrows.

Your eyes roll, “I am.”

Spinning back to face the table, as you grab your own bag of frosting.

“After all, it’s Christmas,” You can’t help but throw her way, from over your shoulder.

“And isn’t that the best time for a miracle?”

Logan’s arms wrap around you later, as you snap the last lid in place. Finally done with your last-minute idea - decorating each of the gingerbread to look like your friends.

Laura slipping out a few minutes ago, intent on staying until the end. Just as determined as Logan to see things through, even though you tried to get her to leave a few times - worried about the weather, the long drive back to the mansion.

The slight smile as her eyes rolled - with your affection towards her, you forget how impervious she is.

Althea long asleep in the couch, the quilt Logan’s borrowed so many nights before tucked around her. Ambient holiday music still pouring through the speaker, your attempt to drown out the enthusiastic reunion taking place next door.

Can’t bring yourself to mind. More relieved than anything.

And you deserve it, you suppose.

“You did a good thing.” It’s murmured into your hair, as you finally relax into him.

Arms curling beneath his, wrapping around his broad back to embrace him. You hum with contentment as his lips brush your temple.

“Don’t know if I can manage a miracle,” His lips curve when you lean back, eyes flicking up to meet his, “But if there anything else you might want for Christmas?”

Your teeth sink into your lip, as you grin.

The answer is easy, as your face tips towards his.

“Just want more time with you.”

Logan huffs, as his hand dips down. Cupping soft flesh, kneading - as he tugs you the rest of the way. A grin, just before his mouth presses against yours.

“Mm. Hope you don’t mind celebrating a little early, then.”

Red and green have exploded in the apartment next door - the flamingo lights that spill from the kitchen replaced with blinking bulbs. A tree that you’re truly unsure how it fit through the door, much less the narrow hallway, tucked in the corner.

You and Logan had helped decorate it earlier in the month - Wade directing from the couch, as the two of you and Althea arranged the ornaments. A ninja star zip-tied to the top, but with the lights turned low, and the swirl of snow coming down outside - it’s cozy.

It’s familiar - faces you’ve come to know well, known to love, fill the space. The cookies are a hit, sweet exclamations as they find the ones that represent them. Woolen and knitted sweaters, bodies tucked together on a hodgepodge of surfaces.

And perhaps, you do end up on Logan’s lap. His thighs spread wide in an armchair Wade found on the curb, out of place against the brick walls and industrial windows with its floral pattern.

Your eyes meeting Wade’s from across the living room, anticipating the tease.

But he only smiles back.

Something soft - an arm slung around Vanessa’s shoulder. The ‘white elephant in the room’, as he had cheekily alluded to it, addressed with a carefully placed piece of mistletoe.

Side-eyes and stunned silence easing into smiles, when you all saw the way they looked at each other.

And when he corners you to tell you thank you, you know the bone-crushing hug is not just for the handmade red-and-black beanie and scarf that you had gotten up early to finish for him.

The rest of your gifts don’t quite reach the same level, but you’re pleased all the same. Laura’s smile shy as she tries on the Docs you caught her eyeing, ankle twisting as her eyes dip down.

Logan’s arm tightening around your waist when you hand him the wrapped package. His eyes lingering on yours until the paper is loosened, a pleased hum when he sees the lined leather jacket you picked out for him.

“Your first winter with us in New York,” You smile, “Can’t have you catching cold.”

Something to keep in warm, when he tinkers on the bike stashed in the basement. To protect him, when he’s not in his suit. Better than that the faded fleece he’s lifted from Wade’s closet.

And even though you’d been fairly certain he’d given you your gift last night - and again this morning - there’s still a pretty card tucked into your palm. A piece of paper folded inside, next to sentiments that made heat rise to your cheeks.

A photo printed out - a cozy little cabin, the roof lined with snow. Framed with a thick ring of woods and surrounded by wilderness. The reservation dates and details marked out in the text below.

“A vacation?” You can’t remember the last time you’ve been away. Excitement surging at the thought of spending a week tucked away with your boyfriend, “For us?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” Logan husks, “Found a nice little place up north. Just you and me.”

His fingers flex against your waist, his face tipping up to yours, “Would you like that?”

“I’d love that.” You smile.

You love him.

You’re certain of that - a name for that warm weight in your chest that’s been there for weeks. Since the beginning really, coming to a full flourish with the conversation the day before.

Maybe with the turn of the new year, you’ll pluck up enough courage to tell him.

For now, you beam at him. Pressing yourself close - entwining fingers that squeeze. Hoping he can read the soft look you give him, the words murmured out, in the little bubble you’ve found yourselves in.

“Merry Christmas, Logan.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, before he tugs you down to meet him.

“Merry Christmas, Sugar.”

after part iii, i could not leave our bff wade with a sad ending!!! 💖 for a little bit early on i toyed with the idea of making this series a poly one (before come on and show me) hence a couple little references throughout (and the reason to keep the breakup in the first place) (which I still have beef with in the movie, BUT I did my best). thank you for checking out this series, it might be one of my favorite things I’ve had the pleasure to work on and seeing the love on it has been so amazing 💕

[folklovrr]

nature feels spencer reid

| spencer reid x fem!reader

| hello! my first post on tumblr. inspired by frank oceans song nature feels. but also like… kind of not. idunno!! minors please dni (18+)

| content warning: religious references, munch!spencer (😁) worship?!, making out, alludes to pinv.

Spencer Reid was an endlessly curious man. It generally didn’t matter what the subject was, he already knew about, and could be classified as an expert in the field.

He like to think of himself as a specialist in all things mathematics, chemistry, engineering, and you. At times like these, that last one became more of a weakness than a strength.

Sitting on the plane home, returning from an exhausting case, hearing the bass line from Derek’s headphones and the muffled sounds of Rossi and Hotch discussing something that could be anywhere from the case to his latest interaction with wife number nth, Spencer Reid couldn’t stop thinking about sleeping with you. You hid in the buzz of the engine, the smell of coffee leaking out of the jet’s small kitchen, taking him to the four walls of your shared apartment, where the smell was omnipresent.

Many people might compare you to a warm summers day, but he found that misrepresentative. You were much more comparable to a snowy christmas evening. It’s the time of year that everyone looks forward to, cookies and cakes and freshly cooked meals, things that were constantly filling your kitchen, love leaking from their extra chocolate chips. All year round, when christmas music plays, people are filled with joy and cheer, and he thinks this phenomenon is not unlike to that of your sounds, and when his memory so unhelpfully brings those to the forefront of his mind, he is filled with that same joy.

The familiar bump of the jets landing cut this train of thought, and as the team filed back to quantico, Spencer had never been more grateful for two things:

1. the fbi’s access to efficient travel - he thinks that if he was forced to sit in the metro waiting, the personification of himeros that was sitting eagerly in his heart ( and other parts of him that he was careful not to pay attention to at this time ) would grab him by the shoulders and force him under the need that he was drowning in.

2. the invention of internet and online communication - the influx of texts from that had ceased to deliver while he was in the sky all flooded in at once, giving him the idea that this missing business was not one sided.

| spence, hope you’re ok :( penny told me that case was tough. cant wait to see you

| I have missed you so much. cant stop thinking about you. text me when you land, love.

| come find me when you get home, doctor ;) i have a surprise for you!

It was in moments like these, when people showed even the slightest romantic fondness for him, that he was taken back to his bumbling college experiences with sex. A word that people danced around, but he researched thoroughly. Not for perverse reasons, as this form of interest in the female anatomy would hit him a bit later in life, but pure curiosity. Why did people enjoy? He could understand what the appeal was for men, but what made the experience enjoyable for the other sex?

These questions still plagued him to this day, even after extensive practical elements were added to his studies, with you being a very supportive test subject. Spencer explored what it was like to feel, and to find meaning through this thing that had become so, even though it sounds silly to say, sexualised in media, and to move past the physical elements (but he still appreciated those, greatly) and to find what philosophers spent eons theorising over, which the two of you seemed to have found so easily. Connection.

In the many nights he had spent tangled in your embrace, Spencer mused thoughts of the origins of humans, and as the quiet hymns of the night sung, he worshipped Apollo for having mercy on the split humans and reconstituting their forms, allowing them to find this physical bond, and their souls other half.

As the elevator at quantico rose to the BAU’s floor, the team had a quiet understanding amongst them that small talk was not necessary, and that conversations of weekend plans were trivial in comparison to the things the victims had been through.

After finishing up the, for lack of better words, ginormous pile of paperwork, Spencer was finally free to follow the light of your twin flame home. As he sits in the metro though, he is brought back to the disdain he holds for the public transportation system, and the distain for every passenger that gets of on a stop before his, slowing his journey. He wishes that access to the fbi’s vehicles was available off the clock, for boyfriends whose need for their girlfriends was eating them alive. How inconsiderate of them.

When the autonomic voice announced the station where you resided, so close yet so far, Spencer jumped out of his seat, himeros once again took control of his body, willing his muscles all the way home.

As the loved in door to your home creaked open, Spencer was guided by the candlelight and warm lamps through to the back garden, where the leaves and flowers of the cherry trees spread through the garden fall gracefully and surround a figure, who is gently swing back and forth on a tree swing. Spencer sees you, and wonders what if this is what Adam thought when he first saw Eve, and if he too felt so compelled to caress the slopes of her neck and pray at her divine altar.

The leaves under Spencer’s converse crunched, and alerted you to his presence. As you turned around, there was barely a split second before Spencer was on you, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck with his arms planted firmly around your waist.

“hi spence”, you whispered quietly into his hair, the glasses on the bridge of his nose digging into the skin of your neck. he began to plant soft kisses there, to exhausted to formulate a response. You nudged his chin with your shoulder, and his lips landed softly on yours, gentle kisses explaining things that words do no justice to.

As the night air became more humid around you, and fireflies surrounded the two of you, Spencer’s warm hands pushed the ankle length hem of your spring dress up your thighs, closer to your core. He kisses a pathway up your calf, up your thigh, towards the need in your centre, and ponders if god had made you for him.

Spencer thinks that he is fairly devoted to a number of things, like his work, or his academia, but the way he eats you out is oh so blasphemous. He circles and flicks and plunges just right, and as the cherry flowers fall in his hair, he looks like a debauched angel, with a sole mission of making you come on his tongue. he is devoted to it, and it’s his mission.

The way that you moan his name and pulse around his fingers turns him on more than things that are seen as generally sexually conductive for the male gender, and as you pull his roots and tighten your thighs around his head, he feels the satisfaction of your pleasure travel all the way to his climax, without being touched. Truly sinful Spencer Reid, truly Sinful.

As his mouth separates from your divinity, he thinks that the string of saliva that connects you is symbolic of every single thing that connects your physical elements to the emotional unison that you share. As the dirt digs into Spencer’s knees, and the thighs around his head loosen with satisfaction, He can’t help but compare you to the delicate cherry blossoms, and he sees your kindness and ineffable gentleness bloom around the garden.

You stand, and pull Spencer to his feet, and as he pushes you against the bark of the cherry tree, ready to connect again, just as Apollo and Adam and Eve and whoever else he had to thank for this intended, he can’t wait to feel your nature, to make love.

a/n thank you for reading!!! i know it’s rough, but yet i persevered and finished it. yay me 😛.

[sillyuin]

Late night date with hhu

Genre: fluff.

Pairing: hhu x reader.

Warnings: Mingyu gets a little mad?? idk

Yuin's note: Part (1/2). This is my carat secret santa gift for @hearts4hansol. Hope you like it, merry Christmas and happy holidays sweetie! 🦭❤️

Seungcheol: Going outside for a drive.

After a long day of responsibilities all you want to do is sleep in your cozy blankets, but Seungcheol has better plans so he calls you in the middle of the night saying he’s coming to your home. Going out with your bf wasn’t in your plans, but it’s not a bad idea at all: There’s nothing like being passenger princess and spending some quality time with your favorite person in the world.

What is more important, sleeping or having the chance to see Seungcheol after a tiring week where your schedules could never meet? One single call was enough as you jumped into his car, and went through the city streets for a ride.

Your head tilted slightly to one side, and your eyes would squint every now and then, until you shook your head to wake yourself up and let out a big yawn that you covered with both hands.

“Do you want a coffee to shake off the sleep?” Cheol asked with a playful tone.

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him with a grimace, his eyes were fixed on the road. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to have coffee after eleven at night.”

“True, but I know a place that serves the best hot cocoa in town.”

“Sounds good, but… Where are we going?”.

Seungcheol parked in a square, the view was simply beautiful and captured all your attention. The lights conveyed an inexplicable sense of tranquility, the decorated and sparsely trafficked streets were calm and beautiful.

You felt as if your worries and responsibilities were fading away; only the here and now mattered. You sighed in relief, and when you turned to look at the driver’s seat, the first thing your eyes saw was a mug with a hot drink that emitted a very tempting aroma.

“Is this for me?” you asked curiously, your cheeks flushing lightly as you accepted it.

Cheol smiled, his dimples showing up. “As I said, I’ll take you to the place that serves the best hot cocoa.”

“Did you really drive through the city at night and do all this, just for me?” your voice sounded almost like a whisper, a bit embarrassed but with a very noticeable hint of happiness.

“Who else would I do it for?” Seungcheol asked rhetorically as he poured himself a cup as well. “I still have more in the thermos, if you’d like.”

“Do you know what would be good right now?” you took a sip of your drink and looked at him with mischievous eyes.

He returned the same look, and without saying anything more, he stretched out his hand and brought over a bag that was on the back seat, right behind you. “Did you think I would forget the butter cookies?”

You both laughed as one, clinking your cups to cheer and spent some quality time there, enjoying a pleasant moment filled with laughter and anecdotes. Then Seungcheol gave you a little tour to appreciate the beautiful Christmas decorations on the city streets.

Tomorrow would be another day where you could go to bed early.

Wonwoo: Going for a walk and taking pictures.

Passionate about filming, photography and also you. He’s always willing to spend moments together and keep evidence of those happy memories. So don’t be surprised if he calls you close midnight time just to hang out, talking about your stuff and taking pictures with the precious Christmas decoration in downtown.

After a long day filled with work and stress, the last thing you wanted was to put on a complicated outfit and do your makeup to go out. When Wonwoo called past ten to come pick you up, you felt tempted to refuse and tell him to just stay at your apartment, but he insisted so enough to make you accept his offer.

You walked together through the city streets, admiring the beautiful decorations on the lampposts and in the shop windows; during the festive season, everything changed completely, feeling more cheerful and pretty. Your gaze wandered when Wonwoo touched one of your cheeks to get your attention.

“Enjoying the walk?” he asked while intertwining his hand with yours and smiled.

You nodded slowly. “I’m sorry if I seem distracted,” and you immediately yawned, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Today was one of those days.”

“I can tell,” Wonwoo chuckled as you looked at him with a furrowed brow, then he cleared his throat. “Thanks for coming, I really wanted to see you.”

You paused for a moment to lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek; the night was perfect and you thought nothing could go wrong. But then again, Wonwoo poked your cheeks again with one of his fingers.

“Can you go over there?” he asked while pointing to a small tree by the street, which had been adorned with minimalist details. “I’d like to take some pictures of you.”

“Wonu, I'm not exactly looking my best,” you joked, pointing to your outfit; you were wearing loose clothes perfect for the cold, but not for a photo session.

“What are you talking about? You look beautiful,” Wonwoo gently pinched one of your cheeks, convincing you with his adorable smile. “Now go on, I'll just take a few photos.”

You felt a little shy and posed awkwardly, but Wonwoo had a new collection of photos on his phone from another beautiful night with you, and that was more important than getting the perfect shot.

Sometimes the best photos are taken with just simple clothes, a little of makeup, and the person you love behind the lens.

Mingyu: Baking sweets.

He’s not that good at baking and neither you are, but that’s not important as long as you are doing this together. It might turn out good or bad, but there’s one thing clear: baking a fruit cake at late-night hours never was so fun (and messy).

“I think we have everything,” Mingyu said, checking the recipe on his phone, then he glanced at the kitchen counter where all the ingredients were. “We have eggs, flour, sugar… What are you doing!?”

You shrugged when you heard his voice rising above the normal. You raised your gaze to meet his and immediately dropped what you had in your hands, almost throwing it onto the counter.

“I bought you chocolates yesterday; why do you have to eat the ones that are for the cake?” Mingyu complained.

“There was no need to raise your voice,” you defended yourself quietly, crossing your arms.

Mingyu sighed deeply, standing in front of you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have done that to you” He patted your hair and gave you a warm smile, that gesture was enough for you to soften your expression. “Shall we start baking?”

Nodding enthusiastically, you rolled up the sleeves of your sweater, just above the elbows. “What’s the first thing we need to do?”

“I was making sure we had everything ready,” he looked back at his phone. “Did you buy the raisins like I told you?”

“I was supposed to buy… raisins?” you asked with a distracted look.

Mingyu watched you from the corner of his eye, lowkey irritated, and after realizing you were playing dumb, he overlooked as he made sure that no other ingredients were missing.

“Okay, it’s all here,” Mingyu smiled to himself. “Just tell me what the recipe says, and pass me the ingredients.”

The night went as you both worked together. Mingyu did the heavier tasks while you diligently dictated the instructions just as they were written; a slightly tense atmosphere developed, but it was also filled with jokes, laughters and the promise of a delicious fruitcake that you would share the next day, during Christmas dinner.

Once everything was ready and the cake was in the oven, that’s when you both realized the great mess the kitchen was in. There was flour scattered on the counter and on both of your clothes, leftover ingredients were thrown in a corner, and a tower of dirty dishes on the counter.

“I’m tired, shall we clean up when the cake is ready?” you suggested, scratching your head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” Mingyu said as he moved towards the sink. “Take a shower, I’ll go once you’re done.”

Without thinking twice, you thanked him and disappeared from the kitchen right to your room. After a while, the cake was ready, and everything was clean and picked up. Mingyu was surprised that you hadn’t appeared during all that time, so he went to check the bathroom, thinking something may happened.

He gently knocked on your bedroom door, and when you didn’t respond, he entered to find you lying on the bed in your pajamas, phone in hand, and deeply immersed in sleep. He chuckled softly and approached to cover you with the blankets, gazing at you tenderly.

“Merry first Christmas, my love” he caressed your cheek and placed a tender goodnight kiss on your forehead, before glancing at you once again.

Vernon: Watching bad movies for the laughs.

For someone who loves watching movies, Vernon has a long list of movies he has watched. He usually watches with you the ones he loves, but one night Vernon comes to home with snacks, drinks and a some of the worst Christmas movies he has watched. This is going to be a trip full of cringe but also filled with memories you both will remember for a long time.

You had to pause to catch your breath and avoid choking on the snacks. Vernon moved a little closer to you and made sure you were okay, though he himself couldn’t contain his frantic laughter.

“Are you okay?” his hand gently stroked your back.

“Yeah, I think so,” you took a deep breath while wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes. “I didn't know such horrible movies existed.”

“I told you it was the worst movie I've ever seen,” Vernon admitted between laughs. “I couldn’t keep it all to myself!”

You gave him a sideways glance with a more serious expression as if you were going to scold him, but then you burst out laughing again and he followed your lead. After a few minutes of unending laughter, you took a breath.

“We should probably stop,” you leaned over to the table to take a sip from the glass of soda you had poured for yourself. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Yes, and?” Vernon raised an eyebrow, challenging you. “It’s Christmas eve.”

“Yeah, but it’s the third movie we’ve watched today,” you replied between yawns. “I’d like to sleep.”

But he wasn’t willing to back down. “Come on, I promise it’ll be the last one.”

Vernon looked at you with his tender eyes and a pouty face, gently pinching one of your cheeks. You were really having a good time and didn’t want the night to end at any cost, but on the other hand, you were an early bird, being awake to such late hours was really difficult.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you snuggled up to him, hugging his arm against your chest.

“This one and then we go to sleep, okay?” you asked in a very soft voice. “Now, hit play.”

“Sure, honey,” he said, kissing the top of your head, letting the movie continue on the TV.

As the movie went on, you felt your eyes closing every so often, with Vernon’s laughter being the only thing that could wake you for a few moments. However, when the credits rolled, the only sound was your soft snoring.

Vernon gently touched your nose to wake you. “Wake up, sweetie. It’s daytime.”

“What? How?” You quickly lifted your head and blinked several times before realizing that you were still in the living room of your apartment. You looked at Vernon with a frown and patted his arm. “C’mon, don’t be so mean!”

You immediately fell back asleep on his lap, resting your head on the pillow that was laying across his thighs.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep here,” he whispered sweetly, “let’s go to the bedroom.”

“It’s fine, I’m comfortable,” you replied in sleepy voice, barely audible. “Good night.”

Vernon giggled and just let you be, he was tired as well. Taking the pillow that was beside him, he placed it behind his head and rested his hand on your shoulder, slowly stroking you with his thumb. He looked at you one last time, a lovestruck smile barely appearing on his face.

“Thanks for joining me” he whispered, closing his eyes. “Good night for you too, honey”.

[imagine-it-was-us]

where we land || Lando Norris

Inspiration: Ed Sheeran where we land

Author's note: These are getting out of hand. Started as the creative outlet and ended as sleepless nights where you can't go to bed until you let our mind bleed out on the keyboard. Ed Sheeran and his music will always have a special place in my heart. And this particular song makes me miss the relationship I never had. So enjoy, I am really proud of this one. Hopefully you will find it bearable.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: none, just angst.

Summary: do I love you? do I hate you? || I can't make up my mind || so let's free fall (and part ways for the year I guess??) and see where we land.

Word count: 6.8k+

“Lando, this isn’t working”, she sighed. It was obvious that this short sentence took every last bit of energy she had. After this, there was nothing left – no emotions, no desire to fight, just nothing. A blank expression followed.

He looked up from his computer, unphased. 

“What’s not working?” 

“Us.” 

The mood slightly shifted, yet nothing too shocking. It felt like this conversation was overdone way too many times. They have been here before. That's why he didn’t even take a second to think about what sparked this conversation. It felt like it was a casual chat between an old married couple. 

“Yeah,” Lando muttered, exhaling sharply. “Let’s take a break. We’ll make up anyway.”

That was it. No argument, no hesitation. Like it was routine. Like she had just told him she was stepping out for a moment, and he expected her to come back.

When you think about it, it was devastating. The level of indifference was what hurt the most.

They had known each other their whole lives – friends by proximity before choice. Their families lived in the same neighborhood, close enough that their bond felt inevitable. Even as kids, they were opposites. He was the reckless daredevil, climbing trees and riding his bike at full speed down the steepest roads, while she was the quiet dreamer, lying on the grass for hours, lost in her thoughts. But somehow, they worked. They always had.

As they grew up, their lives took different directions, but they never drifted too far. When Lando got into karting, and later, into the high-stakes world of racing, she wasn’t his biggest supporter in the traditional sense. She didn’t attend every event or cheer the loudest. But she cared. She always asked how he was feeling, if he was okay. She avoided getting too involved, not because she didn’t believe in him or was not interested, but because she couldn’t shake the fear of what could happen. The crashes, the risks, the reality of what came with high-speed racing. Maybe that fear had even shaped her, pushed her toward a career where she could save the ones who weren’t as lucky. And yet, no matter how different their paths became, they had always made time for each other.

Then came that one Christmas. The night everything changed. He was on the brink of signing with McLaren, and she had just over a year of school left, set on studying medicine, becoming a paramedic. They spent the whole evening talking – about dreams, about the future, about everything. And the one constant in all their scenarios? Each other. They didn’t officially get together until months later, when the butterflies finally settled in. What started as something gentle and fragile grew into something more. Something that should have been unbreakable.

But it wasn’t.

Between her relentless studying and his deep dive into the world of Formula 1, the distance between them grew. The small sacrifices they used to make for each other became harder. At first, they convinced themselves it was just a rough patch. They had fallen in love as teenagers, blindly, without knowing what love truly required. Clashes were inevitable, but they always told themselves it was just temporary. That love would always outweigh the tension.

Until it didn’t.

The fights became more than just stress-fueled bickering. Trust started to crack. The rumors, the online hate she received for simply existing in his world, the missed races, the missed plans, the days of unanswered calls. The moments of doubt that neither of them wanted to admit were growing stronger.

They had tried. God, they had tried.

The guilt would always swing between them like a pendulum – one of them messing up, the other one forgiving too easily, hoping that this time would be different. And when it wasn’t, they’d take a step back, hoping the distance would fix what being together couldn’t. Then, like clockwork, one of them would cave. One apology, one touch, one whispered „I miss you“ would pull them back in.

The boat had been rocking for years. But at least before, there had still been waves. Now, sitting in their Monaco home, she wasn’t sure if they had finally reached the calm, or if they had simply drifted so far apart that the water didn’t even touch them anymore.

And that was worse than all the fights combined.

“That’s it?”

He lifted a shoulder in an infuriating half-shrug. “What do you want me to say? We take a break, we come back. It’s what we do.”

“That’s exactly the problem, Lando. I don’t want to pause on this empty shell we still call the relationship. I just don’t think I can.” 

Deep down, words coming out of her hurt her. Yet she was just so tired of this game, then at the end there was no happy ending.

Lando exhaled, closing his laptop and putting it away, jaw clenched. Maybe he thought she was being dramatic. Maybe he was just waiting for the inevitable moment when she’d take it back.

But she wouldn’t, not this time. She just stood up from her end of the couch and exhaled. 

“It will take me a couple of days to gather everything I own from this apartment. I will do it once you leave for Las Vegas, so I won’t disturb your calm before the GP. I will just grab my essentials for now,” she said like she was reciting a groceries list. 

Lando didn’t respond right away. He just sat there, eyes fixed on the coffee table like it held all the answers he couldn’t find in her face. Maybe he was searching for something to say – some magic combination of words that would break the cycle, that would make this easier. But there was nothing left to say.

Finally, he nodded. “Okay.”

She felt her stomach twist. Part of her had wanted him to fight – really fight – for this, for them. But wasn’t that the whole point? They were tired. Exhausted. Running on empty, pretending they had more to give when they didn’t.

She swallowed, shifting on her feet. “I think we should do it properly this time.”

His eyes flicked up to hers, guarded. “What do you mean?”

“No breaks. No texts, no calls, no checking in. Not even a happy birthday or Merry Christmas.” The words came out steady, even though her heart was hammering against her ribs. “We give it at least a year. If we’re happier – truly happier – then we’ll know. We’ll let it go for good.”

Lando stood up, facing her. “And if we’re not?”

She exhaled, forcing a small, tired smile. “Then we’ll see where we land.”

He let out a breath, running a hand down his face. For a moment, he just studied her, like he was trying to commit every detail to memory. Like maybe, deep down, some part of him was realizing that this was the last time he’d get to see her like this. Here. His.

Finally, he gave a slow nod. “Alright,” he murmured. “One year.”

One year to figure out if this was really love, or just a bad habit neither of them knew how to break. One year to see if they could be whole without each other. Or if, after everything, they still made sense together.

She was about to turn toward the bedroom, ready to start packing, but he moved first. His arms wound around her, and she didn’t hesitate before wrapping hers around him just as tightly.

And that was what made it hurt the most. Because after six years give or take, after all the fights and make-ups and everything in between, this was still the safest place each of them had ever known. His heartbeat against her ear. Her scent wrapping around him like home. The way neither of them wanted to be the first to let go.

But they had to. So, after one long, lingering moment, she forced herself to step back.

Lando’s arms fell away slowly, reluctantly, like he was holding onto the very last seconds of whatever this was.

And just like that, they let go. Not with a bang, not with a fight. Just a quiet understanding that, for the first time in years, it was time to stop holding on.

______

Remember the “No Merry Christmas” part? Well, that was their first slip up. 

At first, no one questioned it. 

When they said their goodbyes, when she packed up the last of her things, when they let go without a fight – no one questioned it. Not their friends. Not their families. Not the people who had known them as a unit for years.

Because this was just how they were. Messy. Cyclical. A little dramatic but never final. Everyone assumed that, in a few weeks, they’d find their way back – like they always did.

Yet red flags were being waved when she showed up on your parents doorstep and asked them to let you crash at theirs for the time being. 

And when the world around you was lighting up, getting ready for the most wonderful time of the year, she was really feeling dead inside. That was when the questions started.

As she had to find a new job outside Monaco, she landed in the local hospital, in her parents' area. Her new coworkers, who knew her family, would try the small talk, asking how he was doing as the season went to the end. Sometimes even her patients would recognize her and ask her about F1 and her used-to-be boyfriend. A friend, who you haven’t talked to for weeks, would bring an article and ask for you to comment on it. It was even from her own aunt – the one she only ever saw at Christmas– who asked, completely oblivious, “What size are Lando’s feet again? I want to knit him those socks I promised last year.”

And just like that, he was everywhere. Like an echo of a life she wasn’t living anymore. Like a mistake she wasn’t sure she had actually made.

Because wasn’t that what everyone kept implying? That they had been stupid for doing this? That this break – this “proper” break, this one-year promise – was just a long, drawn-out way of making them both miserable?

And if so—was Lando feeling it, too?

Was he being ambushed with casual mentions of her in conversations that had nothing to do with her? Did he hear her name in places he wasn’t expecting it? Did it catch him off guard, did it sting, did it make him wonder if they had just ruined something they were always meant to fix?

She stopped herself from wondering. After all, she could dwell in these thoughts forever and never move forward. She knew she had to. This break was not only about figuring them out. It was also about figuring who you are outside the relationship you grew up in. 

So for now, she did the thing she knew the best – threw herself into work. That’s why when Christmas Eve rolled around, she had her life line to escape hushed voices and petty looks, asking about her life. Also, Norris' family would always eventually roll around for a quick cup of tea – it was a tradition started by their parents even before the both of them were around so she for sure believed that them being on break would not stop their parents from interacting. Never did on any other break. 

She did what she always did when the walls started closing in. She grabbed her coat, threw a scarf over her scrubs, and braced herself for the short, freezing walk to her car. A twelve-hour shift awaited her, filled with last-minute holiday accidents and bad luck, and she was oddly grateful for it. A perfect excuse to be anywhere but here.

She said her goodbyes, wished everyone a Merry Christmas, and stepped outside.

And nearly crashed straight into Adam Norris. Her hand shot out to steady herself, boots skidding slightly against the icy porch. “Oh – I’m so sorry,” she blurted, barely catching her breath before –

Her stomach dropped.

Because it wasn’t just Adam. It was all of them.

His entire family stood there, wrapped in warm coats and holiday cheer. And Lando – of course, Lando – was in the middle of it all, hands stuffed into his pockets, gaze locked onto her like he hadn’t been expecting this either.

She barely let her eyes flick to his before looking away, heart hammering.

“You’re always in such a rush, aren’t you?” Cisca asked, her voice as warm as ever.

“Yes, I’m working tonight, unfortunately,” she added, making them hear what she wanted rather than expressing her feelings. 

“Oh, your mother told me about the shifts you’re taking and they still make you work during the day like this? That’s so sad,” she said, empathetically. His mother was always the angel and they had a great connection before this break. 

She gave a light shrug, desperate to keep the conversation surface-level. “What can I say? Gotta work if I ever want to give my parents a break.”

It was the lie she’d been telling everyone. That she was saving for a down payment. That the extra shifts were a means to an end. A practical excuse for why she spent more time at the hospital than at home, drowning herself in work instead of drowning in the what-ifs of a relationship that no longer existed.

But it didn’t matter. Not when she could feel Lando’s eyes on her. Not when it took every ounce of strength to keep her own from slipping back to his.

“Well,” Cisca sighed, stepping aside to give her space to pass. “Stay safe, darling.”

She hesitated. A half-second, barely noticeable. And then, before she could stop herself, the words slipped out.

“Merry Christmas, fam.”

The moment she said it, she regretted it. The slip. The weakness. The betrayal of her own rules.

And then there was Lando.

For the first time since she stepped outside, she met his gaze. A brief, fleeting glance. A quiet acknowledgment of everything that still lingered between them.

She barely made a sound when she whispered, “Merry Christmas, Lando.”

Then, before she could give herself time to second-guess it, she turned on her heel and walked away, pulling her coat tighter around herself.

She didn’t wait for an answer. She couldn’t. Because she knew if she did – if she heard his voice, his words – her carefully built defenses would crumble.

But as she made it to her car, something soft, something broken, floated through the cold December air.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

And somehow this moment stung Lando more than anything else ever had.

______

Spring was warming up the air, shaking winter from the trees and stretching daylight just a little longer each evening. She had always hated this time of year – hated the way it pressed against her chest, thick with stress and expectations. First, it was the exams, the all-nighters, the anxious flipping of textbooks. Then, later, it became Lando’s schedule. The season kicking off, his world spinning faster while she tried to hold onto the edges.

This year, though, spring was something different. Unusually dull. Unnaturally calm. But it was for her to figure out if it was the kind of calm that comes before or after the storm.

By all accounts, she was doing well. She was thriving at work, getting used to the rhythm of long shifts and fast decisions. She had found herself a new apartment – small, but cozy, a space that was hers and hers alone. She even picked up jogging and pilates, things she used to roll her eyes at but now clung to as some kind of personal victory.

Some days were perfect. She would wake up, stretch in the morning light, sip her coffee in silence, and almost – almost – forget why her life looked the way it did now.

Emphasis on ‘almost.’

Because when you spend six years wrapped around someone else’s life, untangling yourself doesn’t happen overnight. Their friend groups overlapped too much, their histories bled into too many places, and avoiding him completely was impossible.

They had been careful, though. Calculated. She planned around GP weekends, making sure to show up to gatherings when he was halfway across the world, and skipping the ones when she knew he’d be visiting the home town. It worked. Until, inevitably, it didn’t.

That night, she hadn’t planned to see him. It was supposed to be a quiet evening. Just a handful of friends, drinks, some music humming in the background. Nothing major. Nothing painful. But then, sometime between her second glass of wine and the last lazy notes of an old song drifting through the air, she felt it.

That awareness. The way her skin prickled before she even turned her head. He was there.

Just across the room, laughing at something, his head thrown back, the sound of it familiar enough to sink straight into her bones. He looked... good. Relaxed in a way she hadn’t seen in a long time. And for a second she let herself wonder if she looked that way too. If he saw her and thought, ‘She’s okay. She’s moved on. She doesn’t miss me the way I miss her’.

It was unbearable. The way it made her stomach twist, the way it pulled something raw inside of her. It wasn’t just the sight of him, it wasn't just the proof that he still existed outside of her world – it was the realization that she still felt it. That she still felt everything.

So she left. Quietly. Without goodbyes. Without looking back.

By the time she got home, she was already peeling off her jacket, kicking off her shoes, slipping beneath the covers in the dark. Sleep would fix it. Sleep would dull the sharp edges, smooth over the crack in her chest.

Morning light bled through the thin curtains, painting soft streaks across the room. She stretched, rubbing at her puffy eyes, the lingering ache of last night still pressing heavy against her ribs.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he got to be fine. That he got to laugh and exist so easily in a world without her while she sat here, caught in the ghost of something that refused to fade.

Yet there was a surprise waiting for her when she picked up the phone.

A missed call at 3:48 am. And a voice note from him on her Instagram DMs followed.

Then, for just a second, something fluttered in her chest. A spark of something she didn’t want to name. Because maybe he had seen her last night. Maybe he had felt it too.

But reality was quick to sink its claws in, dragging her back down. No. This wasn’t that. This was probably drunk Lando. This was ‘bad decisions wrapped in nostalgia and gin’ Lando.

She should ignore it. But her thumb was already moving before her brain could stop her.

Click. Play.

“Heeeeeeeyyyy pretty girl.”

She sucked in a sharp breath.

He was drunk. The kind of drunk where words ran together, loose and careless.

“I’m so sorry for the call, I realized that you are probably working or worse – asleep – and just canceled it. Like I know that you would stab anyone who would dare to wake you up if it’s not important, and since I guess I no longer am, I—”

A hiccup. A pause.

Her stomach twisted. She should stop listening. But she didn’t.

“I just don’t know… Whenever I see you, you seem so fine, so moved on… And then there’s me, stuck between fake and being down. And you know what I do when I feel down? I go to the bar, the club. You name it. I scan a crowd looking for you. I never find you, because duh, why should I? You only went to these places for me.”

Her chest tightened. She had hated clubs with all her heart. The noise, the people, the way she never really fit into that world. She only went because he loved it. Because Lando loved the music, the energy, the thrill of it. And yet… after all this time, he was still looking for her in places she never truly belonged.

“So, I get the random girl and imagine it is you. I imagine you still care, laugh at my pick-up lines, take me home with you. I even moaned your name one time and the lady was pissed off, I got smacked, lol. Could you imagine…”

A sharp exhale left her lips.

God, he was an idiot. Saying things he had no business saying. Telling her things she shouldn’t know. She wanted to be mad. To roll her eyes, to call him out for being reckless, for dragging her back into the mess they were supposed to be untangling.

But she wasn’t mad. She was something else entirely. Because there, tangled between the words and the drunken confessions, was something she wasn’t ready to face. Regret. And worse – feelings that she thought was lost during all this. The kind that made the edges of her world blur for a moment, tilting just enough to make her wonder…

What if?

And then – 

“I should have fought for you, you know? When you asked for this break. I was an idiot for letting you walk out the door so easily. Screw the ‘let’s see where we land’ thing. I already know where I’m landing. Now the ball is in your corner or whatever. So yeah, good chat. See you around.”

Silence.

Her heart was pounding.

She stared at the screen, her mind racing.

This wasn’t just some drunk butt dial. This wasn’t some half-hearted message he would brush off in the morning.

This was a line drawn in the sand. This was him saying, ‘I know what I want. Do you?’

She swallowed, her hands shaking as she locked her phone and pressed it to her chest.

She needed to breathe. She needed to think.

But later that day, when she opened the chat to replay the message and dissect every word it was gone.

Not even a trace of it ever existing.

And just like that, she was left with nothing but the weight of what could have been.

__________

She didn’t want to be here.

That much had been clear from the second she stepped onto Silverstone’s pavement, a familiar hum in the air, the smell of petrol and rubber hitting her in a way that made her stomach twist.

It wasn’t just the track – it was everything it represented. The years spent here, the routines, the nerves. The way she used to pace behind the pit wall, hands shoved into the pockets of a McLaren hoodie that wasn’t even hers, chewing on her bottom lip as she watched Lando push the car to its limits.

It was muscle memory to be here, and yet, it had never felt more foreign.

She had almost backed out, too, with the kind of last-minute excuse that wouldn’t fool her mother but might have been enough to let her go on with her weekend and avoid the inevitable. But the tickets had been a Christmas gift – from the Norris family, as per usual – and her parents had been so excited.

“It’s been too long since we all did something like this together. You used to go with him all the time while we were watching from the sidelines. Now we can switch places, you will be fine” her dad had said. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Fun. Right.

So she had caved. And when it was time to leave for Sunday GP, she still wanted to blend in the crowd. She knew there would be plenty of McLaren fans, so if you can’t beat them – join them. She took out a random t-shirt that was probably used way too many times. It was only after pulling it over her head that she realized which one it was.

His.

One he had left in her drawer ages ago, one she had slept in more nights than she could count.

It smelled like fabric softener instead of him now. That should have been a relief. It wasn’t. For a split second, she had almost taken it off. Almost buried it back in the drawer like it was some kind of cursed relic. But then she exhaled. It’s just a shirt. No one will even notice.

And at first she was perfectly flying over the radar. Her parents visited the paddock, while she stayed behind, blending in the crowds. She had perfected the art of blending in – cheering when appropriate, clapping at the right moments, never once letting her gaze wander too long in the direction of the papaya garage. And it was working wonders. 

But then she ran into Emma. The fellow paramedic, who she had known both from the medical, and sports field, as she was a couple years older and worked with Papaya for a few years. One second, she was keeping her head down, avoiding anything orange, and the next, she was being pulled into McLaren hospitality because “It’s dead quiet before the race, and you have a paddock pass, so why not?”

She should have said no. Instead, she sat with Emma, catching up over bad coffee, pretending she wasn’t hyperaware of exactly where she was. Yet every time footsteps neared, her body tensed, anticipation coiling in her stomach like a reflex she hadn’t quite unlearned. It wasn’t that she couldn’t see him – it had happened before, and they had managed to be civil, distant in a way that felt almost rehearsed. But being here, surrounded by everything that made Lando Lando, made her feel too exposed.

Don’t get it wrong – she would always be a fan. Even if life took them further apart, even if one day they became nothing more than a distant memory, she would still admire him. The raw talent, the skill, the way he could take a car and make it his – that would never change. 

But it had been eight months, and for the first time, she was starting to find a rhythm outside of them. A clarity she hadn’t thought possible. And yet. Eight months, and still, his drunken voice note rattled in her head like an echo trapped between her ribs. Eight months, and the thought of seeing him in his element – seeing him – made her stomach twist in ways she couldn’t quite decipher. Would it set her back? Or would it confirm that she was finally past it?

Five minutes into chatting, laughing like she wasn’t standing in the center of everything she had left behind, Oscar Piastri appeared, cradling his arm like it was more of an annoyance than an injury. It was impossible for her not to know or like Oscar – they would always lightly catch up and laugh whenever she visited a paddock. And she sure as hell knew that he was aware what was the reason behind her being absent recently. 

“Hey, do me a favor,” he said, surprised to see her in the paddock, but not making a big deal out of it. “Tell me I’m being dramatic.”

She raised a brow. “You’re being dramatic.”

Oscar grinned. “That’s what I needed.”

They fell into easy conversation – nothing deep, just lighthearted jabs about how McLaren clearly needed her back on call, and how she had ditched them for something far less entertaining.

And then, as she was mid-sentence, Oscar’s eyes flicked to her shirt.

Her stomach dropped. She glanced down, realizing how obvious it was now, when she dropped her jacket off. The faded Lando Norris on the back. The small details only a real fan – or someone owning a similar t-shirt – would notice, proved this shirt wasn’t just merch, but his.

“That is not just any McLaren shirt.”

Her face went hot. “Oscar –”

“You’re both so full of shit,” he cut in, laughing.

Before she could protest, before she could even think, he was pulling out his phone.

“Oscar,” she warned.

“Relax,” he said, snapping the picture. “I’ll make it tasteful.”

So when later that day, after the GP was done and gone, her phone buzzed, she wasn’t surprised to see that Oscar had tagged her in a story, meant for a close friend's circle. At least he had decency not to post it publicly, sparing her from the speculation of people online.

A casual shot – Oscar grinning, arm still wrapped in tape, her beside him, mid-laugh. The caption?

“I’m here catching up with a friend, being all nice and all, and she’s still in his corner.”

She rolled her eyes and locked her phone, pretending she saw nothing. Lando rarely if ever checked other driver’s stories, so she thought that maybe she was safe. 

What she didn’t know, that Lando was also tagged in it. 

It was late by the time the high of his first home win finally started to wear off. It should have lasted longer. It should have been everything. And for a while, it was. The roar of the British crowd, the Union Jack wrapped around his shoulders, the feeling of standing on the top step at Silverstone – his Silverstone. It was a dream he’d had since he was a kid, a moment that was meant to feel like an ending and a beginning all at once.

But the thing about dreams is that you never picture them alone. And she wasn’t there. Not where she should have been, anyway.

He’d looked for her. Not consciously, not obviously, but when he turned toward the grandstands where his family sat – where she used to sit – his eyes found nothing but an empty space. And it was stupid to expect anything different. They weren’t that anymore. They weren’t anything, really.

But for the first time since she walked out, he let himself admit it. It still felt wrong doing this without her.

Later, exhausted but unwilling to sleep, he opened his phone, torn between drowning in nostalgia or holding onto the adrenaline of the win. He chose the latter. Scrolled through the tags, looking for a story to share. When he saw the notification from Oscar, he barely thought twice. Probably some congratulatory post, maybe something teasing him for taking so long to win here.

But when he clicked it, the world narrowed to a pinpoint.

Because there she was.

Not in the stands. Not in his family's section. But she had been there. And she was wearing his shirt. An old one, something he barely even remembered giving her, but she still had it. Still wore it.

His stomach tightened. She hadn’t wanted to see him. Hadn’t let him see her. But maybe he wasn’t the only one still looking for pieces of the past.

And maybe she wasn’t quite ready to let them go either.

______

There were still three days left until their one-year mark. Not that she was counting. 

362 days had passed. 362 days of learning how to be her own person again. And, honestly? She wasn’t half bad at it. 

She had figured out how to be alone without feeling lonely. She’d chased things she never made time for before, threw herself into work, into new routines, into a version of herself that wasn’t just an extension of him. And she liked who she was becoming – someone stronger, more driven, more sure of herself.

But did she still feel a pit in her stomach every time she thought about the fact that he wasn’t there to see it? Absolutely.

And maybe that was why she had convinced herself she just had to make it to a year. A clean number. One final milestone to tell her that they had really done it – walked away, stayed away and allowed them both to breath.

But then came the invitation. Max, persistently begging her to come. It’s his birthday, he’d want you there. And also, it was hard to lie to herself that three days would make her change her mind. 

Before she knew it, she was standing in the middle of the chaos, clutching a drink she didn’t want, in a room that felt too damn small. The music was loud, the air thick with laughter and voices overlapping in that familiar, comfortable way. She had spent years in rooms like this, at parties just like this, orbiting the same people, the same circles. But tonight, she felt like a stranger.

And then she saw him. Across the room, back turned, laughing at something Max had said. Easy. Effortless. Like nothing had changed.

The last time she saw him, Lando was leaving Silverstone with his name echoing through the crowd. A winner. A hero. And she had watched from the screen of her phone, watching him have everything he ever wanted. 

That realization made her stop in her tracks.

Because here he was, months later, standing in the center of a world that kept spinning without her. With only three GPs left, he was still a contender for the whole damn championship. He had managed to dodge all major drama, kept his head down, thrived. And now, surrounded by friends, by people who cared for him, cherished him, celebrated him – he looked free.

Happy.

And just like that, the thought hit her like a punch to the ribs. Maybe this should be it. Maybe this night should be her closure. Because if this past year had proven anything, it was that he didn’t need her. And as much as it twisted something deep inside her, maybe she was okay with that.

Maybe she could give up the what if in exchange for the freedom she had convinced herself he deserved. Even if her heart didn’t waver. Even if she was still his in ways she wished she wasn’t.

She turned on her heel, ready to leave this place. She knew that he was aware that she was here. So the checkmark ticked for their friends – she was here, she had cheered for him. Now it was time to leave all this behind them. Just as she was about to put the empty glass on the table by the door, she heard a familiar voice:

“Leaving so soon?”

His voice cut through the noise like a blade. She could barely hear it, but somehow, it still sent a shiver down her spine.

She didn’t turn back, not right away. She let out a breath, eyes shutting for half a second, before finally facing him.

“I was just –” She cleared her throat, finding it suddenly dry. “I was just stepping out.”

Something flickered in his eyes. He didn’t call her bullshit. Didn’t need to. Instead, he simply gestured toward the door.

“Me too.”

As they stepped outside, the air outside was crisp, a quiet relief from the overwhelming heat of the party. She crossed her arms over her chest, less for warmth, more for something to do. Lando stuffed his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels as he exhaled, long and slow.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

And then–

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

She let out something between a laugh and a scoff. “I wasn’t going to.”

His lips twitched. “Max?”

“Max.”

Silence again. But this one wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t unfamiliar. It was them. The kind of quiet that only came after knowing someone for years. The kind that held more weight than words.

Lando rocked back on his heels. “You didn’t have to come.”

She let out a breath, steadying herself. “I know.”

“Then why did you?”

She shifted on her feet, gaze flickering toward the door, toward the party she could easily slip back into. Away from this. But she didn’t move.

Instead, she sighed, voice softer now. “Because it’s your birthday.”

Lando exhaled through his nose, looking away for a moment. “I thought maybe you were done.”

“I thought so too,” she admitted. “I was trying to be.”

His gaze snapped back to her, something sharp behind his eyes. “Trying?”

Her stomach twisted. This was exactly what she had been afraid of – this conversation, the one she wasn’t sure she was ready to have. The one where she had to admit that all the time, all the space, all the growing hadn’t undone a damn thing.

“I didn’t want us to slip back,” she confessed. “Back into something that wasn’t healthy. Back into us, but wrong.”

Lando nodded, slow. “And do you think we would?”

She looked at him. At the way he was standing now, steadier, stronger, more him. At the way his face, older in ways that had nothing to do with time, still softened at the sight of her. At the way she still felt it. That pull. That certainty.

She swallowed hard. “No.”

He stepped forward. Not much. Just enough. And this time, he was the one to break the silence.

“You know what I realized?” His voice was quiet, careful. “That I could have the best day of my life, and it still wouldn’t be quite right.”

She stiffened.

“Because it’s not about someone seeing it,” he continued. “It’s about someone being there. It’s about looking over and knowing –” he broke off, shaking his head, then tried again. “I didn’t need you to see me win at Silverstone. Hell I didn't need you to witness any of this. I just –” his voice dropped even lower – “needed you. And then I saw you in that damn picture with my t-shirt on. It took everything in me not to drive to Bristol, looking for you.”

Her throat tightened. “Lando.”

“I know we did the right thing,” he said, brushing it off. “I know we needed time. I know we needed to fix things.” A pause. Then he looked dead into her eyes. “But tell me. Right now. That if we part ways now that you will be the happiest version of yourself.”

Now, she was standing in front of the person who had been both her greatest love and her hardest lesson. Now, she was staring at him, the weight of their history pressing in from all sides, and she still couldn’t imagine a life where she didn’t look for him in every crowd. Now, she was tired of pretending.

“I don’t regret what we did,” she whispered. Something flickered in his eyes, but he didn’t pull back. “I think we needed it,” she admitted. “I think we needed the space. The time. I think we needed to figure out who we were without each other.”

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to continue. “And I did. I figured it out.”

Lando didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. “And?”

She hesitated, because saying it out loud made it real. Made it true. But after all the turmoil she owed him that much.

“I had good days,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “Really good days. Days where I laughed so hard my ribs ached. Where I felt strong. Where I was proud of who I was becoming.”

Lando’s jaw tensed. She inhaled sharply. 

“And then there were the other days. The ones where something amazingly good or amazingly bad happened, something I wanted to share, but I’d reach for my phone and realize – ” Her voice cracked. “Realize you weren’t there.”

Lando shut his eyes for a second, like he needed a moment to steady himself. “Yeah.”

Her chest tightened. “And you?”

His lips parted, but for the first time all night, words didn’t come so easily. So he exhaled, rubbed a hand over his jaw, and met her gaze with the kind of raw honesty that left no room for doubt.

“I had the best day of my life, and it still felt wrong because you weren’t there to see it.”

She blinked, chest tightening, but he wasn’t done.

“I had the worst day of my life too. And every instinct told me to go to you. And I couldn’t.”

Her throat burned.

“I used to think what we had was everything,” he murmured. “And then we broke apart, and I thought – maybe I was wrong. Maybe we were just young and caught up in something that was never meant to last.”

She held her breath.

“But then I lived without you. I learned how to be on my own. I grew. And I still came to the same conclusion.”

His fingers twitched at his sides, as if he was holding himself back.

“You are the only thing in my life that I’ve ever been sure of.”

Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she forced a watery laugh. “That’s funny,” she whispered. “Because I was just about to say the same thing.”

Lando’s shoulders fell, something breaking apart and putting itself back together all at once. And then he stepped forward. And so did she.

And when he kissed her, it wasn’t about picking up where they left off.

It was about choosing each other again. And they landed exactly where they needed to.

[sleep-i-ness]

Commentary of the Heart (Part 1)

Synopsis: You've been pining after Oliver Wood for months and maybe the Christmas break is finally your chance

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST | GENERAL MASTERLIST | PART 2

Oliver leant against a wall, watching the revelry with a barely touched drink in his hand and an air of lethargy hanging around him. An odd heat crept up the back of your neck as he tugged his tie loose, running a hand through his still-damp hair (and no, you were not going to think about him in the shower). You eyed him with a burgeoning sense of frustration; it was frankly unfair. No one had the right to look that good after being pummelled on the Quidditch pitch for a good few hours. Not least of all when the Dementors had made an appearance.

You thankfully had the good sense not to air these frustrations to your circle of friends, although Angelina was looking at you far too intensely for your comfort. At least Fred, George and Lee were too busy chasing down shots to pay much attention to your straying focus. You loved them, you really did, but you’d rather die than have them find out that you were pining over their captain. They had enough to tease you about without this on top of it all.

The common room was bustling with fifth years and up from every house; no one could ever say Gryffindor was a sore loser. You tilted your head as Oliver sighed, staring at his drink without taking a sip and your eyes narrowed slightly. Angelina nudged you and you jolted, whipping your head round with a guilty smile.

“Go talk to him,” she murmured, and you glanced behind her at the boys, who were far too invested in pouring out more shots to eavesdrop.

“Who?”

Angelina just gave you a look and you smiled sheepishly.

“Fine.” You took a deep breath and raised your voice slightly for the boys. “I’m just going to get myself another drink – that doesn’t consist of pure alcohol.”

“Boring!” Fred called after you in a sing-song tone and George just laughed as you stuck out your tongue in response. You wandered over to the table on the side, topping up your cup with pumpkin juice and after some deliberation, red currant rum. It wasn’t as if you were searching for the finest concoction you could muster, more just a form of a liquid courage. At the sight of the sour look on Oliver’s face, you added another dash of rum to your cup.

It didn’t look or smell horrendous, but you held your breath anyway as you swallowed it down before making your way over to him. Oliver’s brow furrowed as you walked up, coming to a stop just in front of him.

“Nice work out there today,” you smiled softly up at him.

“Thanks.” He mustered a tired smile in response, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Shouldn’t you be out on the floor drowning your sorrows with your team?” As if listening to your conversation, a loud whoop came from behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder to see Fred attempting to down a pint of Firewhisky with Lee and George cheering him on. You didn’t even want to know where he’d got that from, but you were pretty sure you’d be having to help carry him up to bed. You stifled an urge to roll your eyes as liquid dribbled down his chin and turned back to Oliver. “Or are you too busy mourning today’s loss alone? I see your shower-drowning attempt wasn’t successful,”

Oliver rolled his eyes and swirled the amber liquid in his glass, pursing his lips. “Just not quite in the mood to be getting as wasted as Fred seems to be doing.”

You shrugged. And then added with a laugh, “I can always take that drink off your hands if you’re feeling particularly responsible and sober tonight.”

“Hey,” Oliver laughed, lifting up his glass to dodge your hands, “I didn’t say that, now did I?”

You held your hands up in surrender, lips twitching. “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to waste.”

He raised an eyebrow, and you beamed, blinking at him as innocently as you could muster. At his rather insistent scepticism, you dropped the act and switched tacks. “Got any Christmas plans?”

Oliver sighed. “Staying here for the vac. Apparently, I need to spend more time studying instead of on the pitch. And that’s not going to happen during termtime.”

“And it’s going to happen during the Christmas break?”

He shrugged. “Might as well try. What about you?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Not quite sure yet, probably staying here but it depends on my parents’ work. They’re abroad at the moment and the timings aren’t certain so I’m mentally preparing myself for a quiet holiday here.”

“Fred and George staying as well?”

“They’re going home, invited me along and everything, but I can’t impose myself on the Weasleys again. They were kind enough over the summer.”

Oliver nodded, taking a long swig from his glass and you withheld a laugh.

“Well, it’s nice to know you’ll be around as well,” you offered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “If you ever need a study companion, just let me know – I should probably get a head start on my O.W.L. revision considering how much free time I’ll have.”

“You’re far more forward-thinking than I was in Fifth Year.”

“Well, not all of us can rely on our superstar Quidditch abilities to get us a job after this,” you teased, noting with delight the pink tinging his ears.

“I wouldn’t say superstar-”

“Nonsense, Ollie,” Fred interrupted, slinging an arm around his shoulder, and you smirked at the slightly resigned expression on his face. “Now, come do shots with us and celebrate those absolutely beautiful saves today. Come on, you as well, trouble. You’re basically our mascot now.”

You rolled your eyes. “I swear to Merlin, Frederick Weasley, if that is another jab at my hair today, I will hex you blue.”

“Uhh,” Fred offered intelligently, eyes widening comically. “No?”

“The famous Weasley wit, ladies and gentlemen,” you spread out your arms, smirking at the stifled chuckle from Oliver at your side. Fred furrowed his brows, jutting out his lower lip as you watched him attempt to formulate some response whilst equally making sure that your hand didn’t slip any further towards your wand. He’d been on the receiving end of your jinxes before, and he did not want a repeat of the duck incident. He’d had an odd craving for bread for a good few weeks after.

Luckily for him, George swept in with a slight head shake to his brother and a glass pressed into your hands, meaning you were far too busy to pull out a wand and make good on your threat. That did not mean you lessened the glare you were giving Fred, who merely continue to pout at you and batted his eyelashes.

Fred darted off to round up the cavalry, dragging over a more-than-reluctant Alicia from where she was hiding out in the corner with a slightly dishevelled Lee and you shared a knowing look with Angelina.

“Right, fuck Hufflepuff and let’s drink to Harry’s good health!”

You whooped wholeheartedly, flushing as Oliver glanced at you, and quashed the rising embarrassment with the sting of Ogden’s Old.

-

You rubbed your eyes blearily as you stepped out of the Common Room, making your way down to the Hall. It was already oddly silent in the castle’s corridors, a sure sign that most students had already departed for the Christmas holidays, and you sighed. Nothing but studying and boredom awaited you over these next few weeks, and even the Christmas festivities couldn’t encourage Madame Pince to be a little laxer in the Library or Snape to smile for once. At least you could take solace in the fact that you weren’t totally alone; that was, if Oliver actually wanted to spend time with you. You weren’t going to hold your breath, but a small traitorous part of you whispered that now was your chance.

You trailed your fingers along the banister as you wandered down the staircase to the Great Hall; no need to hurry and get caught up in the rush of students leaving. Breakfast would wait for you, and besides, it wasn’t as if you’d slept in. You’d hesitate to say that nerves had woken you up early, but there was no better way of describing the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

Before you’d even managed to get down the stairs, you felt a rush of breeze before something solid collided with you and forced the air out of you. You stumbled backwards into a hard object, hands flying outwards to steady yourself. Once you’d regained your balance, you dropped George’s arm with a grateful smile and turned to Fred with a frown.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that! You’re not going to see us for a whole two weeks, how are you going to survive?” He pouted, ruffling your hair. You whacked his hand off your head with narrowed eyes and he gulped.

“Maybe I’m looking forward to some peace and quiet.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, darling.” Fred slung an arm round your shoulders, tugging you in close. “You know you’re going to miss us.”

“Mm, I think you’re probably going to be missing me more,” you teased, breaking out from under his arm to slip next to George’s side.

“Why does he get all the love? You can’t go around picking a favourite twin like that!”

“Oh, shut up, Freddie,” you sighed half-heartedly, grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “It’s only two weeks anyway.”

“Two weeks that you could be spending with us at the Burrow, though,” George interjected, and you spun round with an accusing finger outstretched.

“You’re meant to be on my side!”

George shrugged. “I didn’t realise this was a sides thing. Besides, there’s plenty of room at the Burrow; Ronnie has decided to spend his holidays here with Harry and Hermione, much to Mum’s displeasure.”

“I can’t,” you sighed. “I’ve got to catch up on the work that some evil twins have been distracting me from.”

“Boring.”

You stuck your tongue out at Fred in place of a retort and he just sniggered.

“You’re definitely sure you want to stay here?” George murmured, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking you deep in the eyes. You tilted your head at him, smile pulling at your lips at his worry.

“Yeah, promise. I’ll write you loads, and you better respond this time,” you teased.

“Worth a try,” he shrugged. “We’ll see you in two weeks, then.”

And he turned to follow his brother down the stairs and out the doors.

“Don’t miss me too much!” You called after them in a sing-song voice, and George just waved goodbye in response.

You sighed as the doors swung shut behind them with a clang. Hogwarts had never felt like such a prison. And part of you was deeply regretting not taking George up on his offer. You stared into the middle distance, hand gripping the railing, as you pursed your lips. You could already picture a Weasley Christmas, the bustle, the food, the familial affection, the laughter, and it made your chest ache just a little.

It wasn’t your parents’ fault that they’d been sent out on a work trip over Christmas; the Auror Office wasn’t known for being the most considerate of public holidays, but sometimes you wished that they worked nice normal 9-5s, home for dinner and there when you needed them.

“Everything alright?” A deep voice startled you from your little pity party and you spun round with a guilty look on your face.

“Oliver!” You cried, pressing a hand to your thudding heart. “You made me jump!”

“Yeah, you looked a little out of it there.”

You flushed. “Just… thinking.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed slightly, and his brows furrowed, lips slightly pursed (not that you were thinking about his lips) but his gaze remained steady and unwavering, almost like he was trying to see straight through you.

And then his face relaxed into a soft smile. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No, actually,” you were grateful for the change of topic, “I was just on my way there.”

“Care for some company?”

Your stomach turned slightly, churned up by the rise of butterflies fluttering, or more accurately, racing around but you managed an answering smile. “I’d love some.”

-

“Psst.” The hiss cut its way through the silence that hung over the library, just quiet enough to avoid Madame Pince’s wrath, although you could already picture the witch glancing up with a stern look on her face. You, on the other hand, stared harder at the writing on the page, hoping that maybe if you focused just a little bit more, the specifics of wand legislation would Defodio themselves into your brain, etching themselves permanently into the tissue of your memory. The letters began to blur as you reread the same line over and over again; Clause Three of the 1631 Code of Wand Use is also known as the ‘Wand Ban’, stating that ‘No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand… Of course, you understood why History of Magic was important; not repeating the same mistakes, learning from our past, blah blah, but it had to be the dullest thing imaginable. And Professor Binns didn’t exactly help with that.

“Psst!” Your head slipped from your hand with a jolt, and you glanced up, lips twisting into a grimace as you made eye contact with Oliver from across the library. You raised an eyebrow. He grinned and tilted his head towards the door as he pushed his chair back with a screech and bundled his books into his arms. You sighed, before mirroring his actions.

He kept his pace slow until you fell into step with him, giving you a grin as you rolled your eyes.

“Revision going well then?” You murmured, shooting a look towards Madame Pince’s desk and making eye contact with the beady eyed witch.

Oliver waited until you’d gotten outside of the library to respond, holding the door open for you and shooting Madame Pince a wink as she glared at the pair of you. “You’re one to talk. You could barely keep your eyes open in there – and how many times did you reread that same page?”

You huffed, crossing your arms and refusing to make eye contact with him. He did have a point. “It’s not my fault that wand legislation is perhaps the dullest topic I have ever had the misfortune of learning about.”

“I see you’ve really chosen the exciting stuff to kick your revision off with,” he laughed and you elbowed him.

“Where are we off to then?”

Oliver tapped his chin in mock thought, and you couldn’t help the giggle that made its way out of you, accompanied by a rising flush in your cheeks. Merlin, you were obvious. Tittering like a thirteen-year-old around her crush, like everything he said or did was the funniest thing ever. It wasn’t your fault he made you laugh.

“Well, I was thinking a nice flight around the castle to clear our heads.”

A grin tugged at the corner of your lips. “You read my mind. But I’m the one casting the Impervius charm this time. Honestly, Ollie, you’d think as a Seventh Year you’d have a better grasp on charms than a Fifth Year.”

He scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish look. “Charms has never been my strong suit.”

“Well, when you can save a goal like you can, I can understand not needing to put effort into your schoolwork. Surely you’ve got your whole life planned out now.”

He gave you an odd look. “You know, sometimes I can’t tell if you’re taking the piss out of me or complimenting me.”

You blinked innocently. “…Complimenting. Just go with always complimenting.”

Oliver’s laugh burst out unexpectedly, his eyes widening in surprise, and for a moment, he paused, blinking in disbelief. His shoulders shook slightly as he attempted to choke down the laughter, a brief, almost sheepish look flitting across his face.

Christmas with Oliver was far from boring, you decided. And filled with far less work than you had hope to complete during the break, but you weren’t exactly complaining. You hadn’t really wanted to spend the holidays studying, head buried in textbooks until your vision swam and your eyes hurt.

--

Footsteps thudded down the corridor, gradually growing louder as they approached the empty Charms classroom you had chosen as your study spot for the afternoon (no, you were not scared to return because Madame Pince had given you such a stern look last time you had left the Library in fits of giggles.) You glanced up briefly, before shaking your head and staring back at the instructions for brewing a Polyjuice Potion.

You copied down the steps one by one:

Add 3 measures of fluxweed to the cauldron (must have been picked on a full moon).

Add 2 bundles of knotgrass to the cauldron.

And the door burst open, disturbing your peace and solitude that had lasted all of maybe half an hour, when Oliver had decided he was too antsy to keep sitting and writing notes for an afternoon. But you refused to give in and look up, you were in a rhythm now,

Stir 4 times, clockwise.

Wave your wand then let potion brew for 80 minutes (for a Pewter Cauldron. A Brass Cauldron will only require 68, and a copper one only 60.)

“Oi, Y/N.” You were unsurprised to hear Oliver panting at the door, feet scuffing on the floor as he inched closer to your desk.

“Buzz off, Oliver.”

Right.

Add 4 leeches to the cauldron.

“Please, I’m so bored and so lonely.”

You rolled your eyes with a sigh.

Add 2 scoops of lacewing flies to the mortar, crush to a fine paste, then add 2 measures of the crushed lacewings to the cauldron.

“Please, please, please.” You could almost hear the pout in Oliver’s voice, and it took all your resolve not to look up and just give in. You’d actually managed to get some work done in the time he’d been gone, and you were not going to let him stop you now.

Heat for 30 seconds on a low heat.

And then he sat on your desk. Spilling your ink pot everywhere.

“Oliver!” You shrieked as ink splattered across your beautiful, handwritten notes, hand flying up to cover your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m so sorry, hang on, Scourgify!” Oliver waved his wand rather hopelessly, darting out of reach of your hand flailing out to slap him. The ink dribbled away from your page, and you stared at the rather slapdash cleaning job.

Well, that had certainly ruined your concentration for the afternoon. You weren’t sure you could face rewriting those notes without crying.

“What do you want?” You glared at him, chewing on the inside of your lip to keep your expression stern as he stared at you with all the sadness of a kicked puppy.

“Company?” He squeaked.

You took a deep breath, slammed your textbook shut and folded your arms.

“Please, Y/N, I’m begging you. I’m so bored.”

“You’ve not even been working for the last half hour; what have you even been doing?”

Oliver looked away, mouth opening and then closing again in a rather gormless way. A little voice in your brain whispered that it was rather endearing, but you battered that thought away with ferocity. His boredom had cost you half a page of notes. Yes, they were still legible, but they weren’t pretty anymore.

“Fine,” you sighed. Giving in. “What is it? Off to the pitch again then?”

You tilted your head as you looked up at Oliver, waiting for him to answer before you followed.

“Not in this weather,” Oliver chuckled. “You’re just a soft Southerner; I’m not having you catch hypothermia.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Don’t be a prick, Ollie. There’s such thing as Impervius.”

“Well, if you’re desperate to go out into a snowstorm, I won’t be stopping you. Otherwise…”

You glanced outside at the icy blizzard, shivered involuntarily, and turned back to him. “Go on.”

“Hot chocolate from the kitchen and then back to the common room?”

“Only if you promise me a game of Wizarding Chess.” You stretched out a hand, blinking innocently as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“What’s the forfeit this time?”

The last time you and Oliver had played Wizarding Chess had been with a bottle of Firewhisky on hand and a shot for every piece lost, which had quickly derailed into a midnight jaunt to the top of the Astronomy Tower and getting a little too close for the firmly established lines of friendship between you. Not that you were sure Oliver had noticed or even remembered. If it weren’t for the secrets of Hogwarts that Fred and George had imparted on you, there was no way you would have been able to lug that man back to the Common Room without Filch or someone else stumbling across you.

“Nothing?” You shrugged, and at his penetrating gaze, offered, “Up to you?”

“Deal.” He shook your hand, and then instead of letting go, dragged you off towards that one specific pear painting. You should never have shown it to him; he’d been abusing it mercilessly recently. Not that you particularly minded the random study session snacks; they were sweet and although you were far too logical to entertain the fantastical notions that cropped up in your thoughts, one teeny tiny part of you had decided that they were his version of a declaration of love.

[digonthis]

Catered Audience- Pt. 3

Spencer Agnew x f!Reader

2.2k words

( ᴅᴍ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛᴀɢ :] )

slow burn-ish, fluff, mutual pining, all that shit

part 1 part 2

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧♡‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

You were honestly surprised by the amount of friends you’d made just from catering for Smosh. At Mythical you had a few people you’d stop and chat with casually, just regular small-talk stuff. But every time you showed up here you seemed to make at least a few new friends, the kinds of friends you could actually see yourself hanging out with regularly.

That day, you had caught some guy inspecting the order receipt. Thinking you’d messed up, a conversation started and soon enough it was casual chit chat, something like what old friends would do. He said his name was Alex, a good friend of Kiana who had apparently brought you up one or twice in conversation the last little while. He was happy to answer your somewhat silly questions about what his job was like as you finished up your work, but a question of his own stopped you in your tracks.

“Have you seen the little moments of fame you’ve had on the channel lately?”

He brought it up as casually as you would the latest news report or a change in the weather, but the topic had your heart beating a little faster. “I think it’s absolutely hilarious, and between you and me I did think that Spencer guy was super funny!” 

You lean on your cart as you bring Spencer up, the truth was that you’d been watching Smosh in the background during all your cooking lately, primarily videos where he’d been present. That was only a little bit on purpose. “I mean like- in the video I watched you guys film. I love Limp Bizkit, so the impression killed me. And he was so funny and full of energy, even if he sucked at darts! I was cheering for him the whole time, even though it was pretty obvious he wasn’t gonna win-” You cut yourself off suddenly, realizing you’d started to ramble about a guy you’ve never met to a complete stranger.

Alex, sensing he’d really caught your attention, proceeded to hype Spencer up. Coolest guy in the office, super nice, super fun to be around. Absentmindedly, he crumpled and uncrumpled the catering receipt in the pocket of his jacket as he spoke. You were pretty much hooked on every word, all the while trying and failing to keep a casual look about the whole thing. “It’s pretty impressive, you know. The amount of credit you’re getting without even being in the studio. If people didn’t already know you for the bangin’ food they definitely know you now…” He says, and you sense a small ulterior motive behind his words.

“Hell, you could come to the office Christmas party and nobody would even bat an eye…” He says slyly, sipping his drink as wheels turn in your head.

“Uh… I dunno about that much, hm. Wouldn’t want to cause a fuss or be out of place or anything…” You say, the social anxiety already creeping up on you. What would you even say? What would you do? Who would you talk to? What would you wear? You noticed your hands moving a little more quickly and messily as you packed everything up, barely listening as he continued. “I’m sure everyone would be happy to see you, you know. No pressure or anything, just an idea.”

He left the room after dropping that idea, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The idea of being nothing more to Smosh than a one-off joke was a little saddening, especially after enjoying conversations with people as much as you had. Fading to the background now would mean likely losing a lot of that interaction, but the alternative was arguably worse, crashing a company Christmas party and hoping people like that plan. If they didn’t… well, the idea sent a shiver down your spine.

You spent the next few weeks as usual, scolding yourself internally as the christmas party came to your mind more than a few times. You busied yourself in your work, prepping excessively and way too far in advance, just as an excuse to give your mind something to do other than think about it.

In one of the videos you watched as you worked, a ‘who knows me best’ starring Spencer, Angela mentioned you again. You refused to look at the screen, not even wanting to see how anyone reacted, but like any other video it was only minutes before you were rewinding the video, pausing and zooming and analyzing people’s reactions to you. Giggles were audible behind the camera and Angela had a big shit-eating grin on her face, but Spencer was what you really cared about. 

The way he pursed his lips, shoulders shaking to give away his quiet chuckle before he finally broke into a small smile. You told yourself the light blush across his cheeks was the lighting, and forced your eyes away. Back to work, a blush forming on your own cheeks as you continued.

As you finally sat down on the couch, you felt your phone buzz from your pocket. Fishing it out, an email from Smosh was the first thing you saw. You immediately perked back up, despite your exhaustion. and cracked open a redbull. A gigantic and fairly extravagant order, definitely meant for the holiday party. You were surprised at the quality of the ingredients they were springing on, nothing like golf leaf or caviar but a lot of high-ticket products that made you cringe when sending over the price quote. 

Within minutes they had agreed without protest, and the redbull had already been downed. You decide against watching any more Smosh for your mental health’s sake, so you throw on some vinyl and get to work.

After a few days of non-stop work, you were glad to have a regularly scheduled dinner delivery to Smosh, as a break from being alone and doing nothing but baking. The christmas party order had an insane amount of sweets, so you’d been making plenty of cakes, cookies, squares, bars… thinking about it too long makes your head hurt.Wheeling your cart into the studio as usual put a smile on your face quickly though, as you immediately met Angela’s eye.

“What’s for dinner today?” She asks, falling into step with you as she attempts to peek under the foil of the containers. “At least let me put them on the counters first!” You giggle, quickening your pace a little to tease her. “Whatever it is, it smells so good…” 

As the two of you walk along and chat, you lock eyes with the same guy you’d met last time. The one who suggested you come to the christmas party, Alex. He smiles, waving to you and Angela. “What’s up? Did you convince her to come yet?” “Come to what?” Angela asks. “I just tracked her down now, haven had time to ask anything yet…” She adds mischievously, a smirk on her face.

“I just meant the christmas party” Alex returns pointedly. It felt like there was something in this conversation you couldn’t fully understand, but you didn’t have time to ponder this as Angela’s hand shot to your shoulder, an excited glint in her eye. “You gotta come, it’ll be so fun! The girls are planning matching outfits and there’s always great drinks and people and something crazy always happens, it’s such a good time…” She continues her rant on and on until you’ve got all the food set up and people start making plates. The only thing that seemed to stop her tirade was the idea that something would run out before she’d get to eat.

You sigh and lean against the wall, finally having a moment of peace. You still found it to be a horrible idea, like crashing a party you weren’t meant to be at. Alex seemed to read your mind, leaning next to you.

“She has a point, somewhere in all that rambling. People would love to have you there, but… no pressure.”

He seemed apprehensive at the end of the statement, pondering something to himself before deciding to stay quiet. Needing to break it, you voiced your own opinion.

“It’s just so foreign to me, I guess. I’m not technically part of the company, or really ever been part of a company. It’s always just been me working for me, I have no clue how to act at a work party. It’s not my party to go to, and it’d just be too… weird.”

To your surprise, Alex didn’t argue your opinion. Just nodded and shrugged. “You’re not weird. Nobody would think you’re weird. From what I've seen, you have a knack for getting people to favour you, especially when you throw in a freebie with the order.”

With that strange anecdote he left the room casually, leaving you to think. What did he mean? At least it was good that people liked you but what freebies had you-

oh.

oh.

Why the fuck did he know about that???

You were a little glad he had left the room and wasn’t witnessing your little freak out, packing your things quickly and getting out of there as fast as possible. Selina caught you by the door before you can leave, your frazzled expression worrying her. “Who is Alex… close friends with?” You ask awkwardly as she tries to get you to spill whatever is on your mind. “Ah, he’s a super friendly guy but he’s definitely closest with Spenc-” “Nope!” You cut her off blankly, carting your shit out of the building without explanation leaving poor Selina confused and worried for you.

Alex must’ve talked to Spencer about you. Spencer must’ve talked about you to Alex. He took that receipt. How much does he know? What is there to know at all? Why did you tell Alex, a whole stranger that much the other day? You stand in front of your car door, weighing your options.

You could storm back in there, track him down and make him swear to secrecy. Search his office for the receipt, and threaten him for any information he had about you.

You could… drive all the way to Canada, change your name and start a new life?

You could grab a pint of ice cream and watch movies alone on your apartment until you fall asleep…

You went with the third option.

Ben and Jerry weren’t the best at giving advice but they sure did provide a comfort that you needed, until your phone buzzed with a instagram DM from Selina checking in. You assured her you were fine, but she wanted to know more. Within minutes you caved and sent paragraphs upon paragraphs of everything, from initially seeing Spencer to making the stupid cupcake to Alex and the receipt to the christmas party, and all Selina had to say in response was… laughing emojis. You threw your phone against the wall and fell asleep promptly.

Soon enough, it was the day of the christmas party and you were in a bit of a craze from all the cooking and baking you’d been submerging yourself in to forget about your feelings. You couldn’t help but feel proud as you looked over the vast expanse of food you’d made, the intricate and huge gingerbread house the star of the show. 

Once everything was packed into your car, you felt a slight pang of dread. It would be the first time going back to Smosh since Alex’s little comment and your realization that Spencer probably knew more about you than you thought, but you quickly shook the feeling away. You had planned for this, it would take you a long time to set everything up at the venue so you’d given yourself plenty of time, enough so that you would be out the door and gone before any partygoers even show up. Keys in ignition and brave face on, you headed out.

The venue was just as extravagant as the catering order. It took you a few trips to get everything in, the only other person already there was Ian himself, and you insisted you didn’t need his help bringing things in. You hadn’t had the chance to speak with him much prior, but he was really nice and very complimentary to your work, especially the gingerbread house and gingerbread cookie of himself. You were having a great time talking to him, pleasantly surprised with his interest in the process of making everything, until you were tackled from behind with a hug.

“Thank God you decided to show!” Shrieked a voice so energetic it could only be Angela’s. “I knew you would, I did! I should have got you the dress to match, shit! This is gonna be so fun, don’t even worry-”

Ian looked at you confused as you gently pried her off, trying to quiet the excitement down so you could get going. “Show… for what?” He asked, catching Angela’s attention. “The party! I told her to come but she insisted she wouldn’t, but I think Alex changed her mind…” 

“Um, no. Sorry… I was just dropping the stuff off…” You interject awkwardly, gesturing to the tables of food and dessert you’d just finished arranging. Ian took the brief silence as an opportunity to make you an offer that had your stomach dropping.

“Whatever we’re paying you for all this food definitely isn’t enough. The least I could do is let you eat some of it! Since it seems you’re friendly with the cast, it only makes sense.” He says casually, a completely oblivious smile on his face.

The only thing worse than intruding on a party was rejecting an invite once you’re already there. With Angela looking at you so hopefully and Ian sharing such a gracious offer, you really couldn’t say no without being insanely rude, so you nodded and smiled, your brain going haywire.

“Thanks, I hope I'm dressed okay, I really didn’t plan on staying…” You smooth your slightly wrinkled shirt down before Angela places a hand on yours. “Have you ever seen our costume department?”

The grin on her face tells you that you would be seeing it soon.

(A/N- ɪ ᴘʀᴇᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ɪғ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ғᴡ ᴛʜɪs ! ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɴᴜᴍʙᴇʀs ɢᴏ ᴜᴘ sᴏ ɪғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴs ɪʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ! ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʙɪɢ ᴊᴜɪᴄʏ ᴋɪss ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛs ᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ )

Part 4>>

[maskedbyghost]

MASTERLIST

18+ Blog. MDNI. Requests are open.

Simon helps with your recovery

He washes your hair

Reader is a badass

Hate to love?

When Angels Fall

Ex-Bf Si

Hallucinating , part 2

Tolerate it , part 2

Simon married a writer

One bed

Simon after the divorce

One night with Johnny

Surprise

The wedding, Part 2, Part 3

Sneaky Simon

Obsessed reader, Part 2

Recovery , Part 2

Shadows of Obsession,

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Simon Cheers You Up

Ex-Husband Simon , Part 2

Home

Toxic Simon, But Red Is My Favorite Color

Marriage With Benefits

Can't Sleep Without Him

Sick

Running Up That Hill

Birthday Morning

Christmas with Simon (friends to lovers)

Amnesia , Part 2

Arranged Marriage:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Letters to You (friends to lovers)

Late Night Talks

The One Where Simon Accidentally Kisses You

Rivals (rivals to lovers)

Idiots in Love

The Hating Game:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Situationship!Simon:

Part 1 Part 2

Soulmate!Simon:

Part 1 Part 2

Jealousy

Insecurities

Hair

Stalker:

Part 1 Part 2

Friendly Teasing

One Bed, One Night

Beneath the Mask

Random:

Part 1