#he asked to speak with me at the end of the day and I thought a parent had complained about the movie

[rmview]

relationship dynamic with you, SVT.

featuring — seventeen rap line x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — an imagine of what the seventeen rap boys are like when they're in a relationship with you! ( part two )

contents — fluff, no warnings.

ming ♡ yu

dating mingyu feels like being with your best friend and biggest cheerleader rolled into one. he thrives on making you laugh, whether it’s with his goofy antics or light-hearted teasing. mingyu loves showing affection, often initiating hugs and holding your hand wherever you go. he’s attentive, always noticing the little things — like when you’ve had a bad day or when you’re wearing something new. at home, he enjoys cooking for you, though the kitchen sometimes ends up a mess. despite his playful nature, mingyu is incredibly dependable. whenever you need support, he’s there, listening to you with genuine care.

“are you okay?” he asks one night as you sit on the couch, looking a little distant. “just tired,” you admit, leaning against him. without another word, he wraps an arm around you. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of everything tonight. you just relax, okay?”

won ♡ woo

wonwoo’s relationship dynamic is rooted in quiet understanding and subtle affection. he’s not one to be overly expressive, but his love is felt in the small, meaningful gestures — like buying your favorite snacks without being asked or remembering details you’ve casually mentioned. conversations with him are deep and fulfilling, often filled with insights that make you see things in a new light. while he’s more reserved, his words carry weight. wonwoo’s presence is calming, making you feel secure and appreciated. his love language might not always be verbal, but his actions speak louder than words.

“you always know what i need,” you say, looking at the book he surprised you with in awe. he smiles softly, his eyes glinting with affection. “i just pay attention. it’s not hard when it’s you.”

ho ♡ shi

dating hoshi means constant excitement and unpredictability. his energetic and bubbly personality keeps the relationship lively, as he loves planning fun dates or surprising you with impromptu adventures. hoshi’s passion extends to his love for you — he’s expressive, showering you with compliments and making sure you always feel adored. he loves sharing his world with you, often pulling you into his creative projects or introducing you to the things he’s passionate about. despite his playful demeanor, hoshi is deeply thoughtful and quick to notice when something is off.

“do you trust me?” he asks with a mischievous grin, holding out his hand for you to take. you raise an eyebrow, taking his hand anyway. “should i be worried?” he laughs, tugging you along. “never. i just have the best date planned, and you’ll love it — i promise!”

ver ♡ non

vernon’s relationship dynamic is laid-back and refreshing. he’s not one for grand romantic gestures but makes you feel loved through his easygoing nature and sincerity. vernon loves spending time with you, whether you’re binge-watching shows, going for walks, or just hanging out at a café. he appreciates your individuality and encourages you to embrace it, often reminding you how special you are in his eyes. while he’s more reserved with his feelings, his quiet thoughtfulness makes every moment meaningful.

“you make everything so simple,” you say while out on a peaceful walk with him at night. the streets were almost empty and he could roam with his mask off. he shrugs with a small smile. “i just think love shouldn’t be complicated. it’s about being happy together, right?”

s. ♡ coups

as a leader by nature, s. coups brings stability and strength to the relationship. he’s protective of you, always making sure you’re safe and cared for. while he can be a bit reserved at times, his actions are always thoughtful — he’s the type to check in with you multiple times a day just to make sure you’re doing okay. s. coups values communication and works hard to ensure any misunderstandings are resolved quickly. his grounded nature makes you feel secure, and his quiet confidence is incredibly reassuring.

“i worry about you sometimes,” he admits one evening, his tone serious as he noticed your growing dark circles. you smile, squeezing his hand. “it’s just work. i’m fine, love.” he shakes his head. “still, i’ll always be here if you need me. no matter what.”

di ♡ no

dino’s relationship dynamic is youthful and full of excitement, but it’s also surprisingly mature. as the youngest, he’s eager to prove that he can be a reliable and loving partner, whether or not you’re older than him. dino constantly goes out of his way to make you feel special, whether it’s through sweet surprises or simply being attentive to your needs. he loves sharing his passions with you, often inviting you to watch him practice or showing you new choreography. while he can be playful, dino is deeply reflective and values your opinions and feelings, always striving to grow alongside you.

“do you think i’m doing okay?” he asks after a quiet moment while you’re curled up against his chest before sleeping. “you’re just perfect,” you reply with a soft smile. he grins, a little shy. “i just want to make sure you’re happy. that’s the most important thing to me.”

notes: part two out soon <3

[runninriot]

Santa's Secret

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles day 23

prompt: hot chocolate | rated G | wc: 998 | tags: Eddie & Wayne Munson, single dad Steve Harrington

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | AO3 (+bonus epilogue)

Eddie can’t wait to get out of the suit that’s been suffocating him for the past three hours. He’s still sweaty and his hair is a mess after wearing the wig and fake beard combo for so long but he feels better once he’s changed back into his regular clothes.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Eddie stops for a moment. He looked so different dressed as Santa, could’ve been fooled by his own reflection wearing that costume. There’s no way Steve actually realised it’s him. Maybe what Eddie thought he saw in Steve’s eyes wasn’t recognition, but confusion.

They haven’t seen each other in years and apart from that, it’s not like they’ve ever been… close. Sure, Steve probably knew of him – they’ve both been somewhat popular in high school, although for very different reasons. But still. It was silly of Eddie to think the smile he gave him was one of familiarity. More realistically, it was just a silent thanks for how he handled the little girl’s nervousness, brought a smile to her face by playing into her childlike wonder.

And that’s okay.

In the end, Eddie did have a great time pretending to be Santa for a while. He’ll never tell Wayne, though, unless he wants to hear his old man tell him ‘I told you so‘.

With his shift done, Eddie strolls around the still brimming main hall of the community centre, looking at a stand with wooden figurines where a beautifully carved dragon caught his eyes.

He’s so fascinated by it, that he doesn’t notice the person coming up to him, until a hand taps his shoulder lightly.

When he spins around, he finds Steve standing next to him.

   “So, what brings you back to this shithole?“ he asks through a laugh, casual, like it’s normal for the former King and King of Freaks to have a conversation.

   “I, uh,“ Eddie stammers, staring at Steve a little star struck and maybe a little more in love because there’s that smile again and it’s blinding like the fucking sun and this time, he doesn’t have the Santa suit to blame for the fucking heat spreading in his face.

    God, grow up Munson. You’re an adult. Behave like one.

   “I’m visiting my uncle.“

   “How is Wayne? I was a bit worried when I realised that-“ Steve leans closer to whisper in his ear and Eddie’s heart stops for a moment. “-Santa sent someone else to cover for him.“

There are a million thoughts running through Eddie’s mind – since when are Steve and Wayne on first name basis? So Steve did recognise him? And why’s it so fucking hot in here?

   “You were great, by the way. I’d have lost it at some of the parents. They can be worse than their spoiled little brats sometimes.“

Eddie chuckles nervously, shrugs his shoulders and waves a hand at Steve who moves back slowly but stays close, so close Eddie catches a hint of his cologne, mingling with the Christmassy smell of oranges, and cinnamon, and apple tea, and it makes him dizzy but not in a bad way.

“Robbie wouldn’t shut up about Santa,“ Steve winks at him, “said he’s the coolest, even cooler than the tooth fairy. And let me tell you, that’s a real compliment.“

They both laugh and it feels so light and freeing; Steve makes it seem so easy to fall into conversation with him.

   “She’s a sweet kid and she loves you a lot, I can tell.“

    Loves you so much she’s wasting her Christmas wish on your happiness, Eddie thinks fondly, biting his tongue not to accidentally spill their little secret.

   “Yeah, well. She doesn’t have much choice. She’s stuck with me, since her mother decided to-“

   “Dad!“ a voice calls from somewhere behind them and when they turn, they see Robbie running up at them.

   “Speaking of the Devil,“ Steve sighs amused before opening his arms to catch her.

   “Who’s your friend?“

   “This is Eddie. We’ve been to school together. He’s grandpa Wayne’s nephew.“

    Grandpa W-hat?

Eddie must be having a stroke. Or maybe something’s wrong with his hearing because… WHAT?

Steve must realise something when he notices Eddie’s confusion, because he suddenly blushes a deep shade of red and smiles awkwardly at him.

   “S-sorry, I thought you knew that, uh-“ Steve takes a deep breath before he continues, “Your uncle has been helping me out a lot when I moved back to Hawkins a few months ago. You know, uh, setting up the house and watching Robbie when I had to go to interviews and couldn’t find a babysitter. He, uh, he’s been a real help. Robbie’s obsessed with him. Aren’t you, baby?“

   “He’s awesome! And he makes the best hot chocolate in the world! With little marshmallows and sprinkles on top!“

Eddie feels like he’s been hit by a truck, feels betrayed by the man he’s been looking up to his whole life.

   Wayne Munson, you son of a potato farmer, are living a secret life where Steve’s daughter calls you grandpa?

    Oh, Eddie’s going to have a field day confronting him with that.

   “Right?! The best hot chocolate ever! I always have mine with whipped cream on top,“ Eddie answers equally enthusiastic, doesn’t even have to pretend despite his inner turmoil because that little girl’s smile is infectious.

While listening to Robbie’s happy babbling, Eddie watches Steve from the corner of his eyes. He still looks a bit like a kid caught stealing cookies, but slowly relaxes, and that’s good, but-

Wayne definitely has some explaining to do. His uncle has always been a fucking saint, can’t not offer his help when he feels like someone’s in need of it. But it being Steve of all people, really messes with Eddie in a weird way he can’t really explain.

He needs to know more.

   “How about we all go to Wayne’s together? I’m sure he’ll be delighted to see you. What do you say?“

[moosesarecute]

December 23rd

December Masterlist

Masterlist

Azriel had moved you to his bedroom in the House of Wind after you had fallen asleep. You remembered being picked up and shushed back to sleep, but you don’t remember being brought to his room.

He slept soundly beside him. He snored a little. Azriel only snored when he felt exhausted, so you decided to let him sleep for as long as he needed.

You got his shadows to help you out of his arms so that he didn’t wake up, before you moved into the kitchen.

It was cookie time.

With the help of the shadows you first mixed sugar and brown sugar, before you added flour, vanilla and eggs. In the end you mixed in chopped hazelnuts and dark chocolate.

You scooped out over 50 small cookies and baked them in the oven. In the meanwhile, you started on the presents.

Rhys had given you one of Feyre’s favorite dresses. It had three small holes. It didn’t take you long to saw all of them. It looked good as new.

You remembered the dress the second you saw it. Rhys’ mother had used you as a model to make it.

After that, you moved on to an apron. It was Elain’s and you decided to embroider flowers on it. Just like the flowers of you made on the dresses of the dolls Nick and his elves made.

That’s what you were doing when Nesta walked in.

“You’ve been busy,” she said. “Can I try one?”

You picked up one of the cookies that had cooled down and gave it to her. She took a bite and smiled.

“These are so good! You know, the boys tried to make these. They weren’t half as good as yours.”

You could imagine Azriel and Cassian baking together and the mess they would make. The thought made you happy.

“What’s the deal with the cookies? I’ve heard you’re very set on making these all of December.”

You smiles again as memories of your mother filled your mind.

“I grew up in Windhaven too. We weren’t very well off. I was lucky enough to be able to eat dinner with Rhys and his mother most days, but I remember going to bed hungry often. However, in the month of December my mother had been saving for many months to make sure be had money for sugar, eggs, nuts and chocolate. We would make cookies on the 1st of December. The recipe made about 20 cookies, but we made them so small that he had at least 42. Then, we would eat one each every day until Winter Solstice. And if we had more than 42, my father would get the rest.”

It was your fondest memory from your mother. That was one of the many reasons to why you loved Winter Solstice.

“You really loved your mother, didn’t you?”

“Yes, she was the best. She always supported me.”

“She died when you were young, didn’t she? Do you mind me asking what happened?”

“Unlike most fae, my mother didn’t have the best health. She was sick from a very young age. She got worse and worse from the time I turned sixteen. She passed as I turned 19. She got a very short life for fae standards, as she was only 64 as she died. But she got to meet Azriel and that means a lot.”

You and Nesta ended up speaking for quite a while. You spoke about everything: mates, food, books and training.

“Ooo, it smells sooo good,” Cassian’s strong voice boomed through the kitchen as he walked in.

He stumped towards the cookies, but you slapped his hand away before he managed to touch one.

“Cauldron, Cass. You have to wash your hands first!”

He turned to you and you expected to see his annoyed face, but he only smiled at you. He threw himself on you with a hug.

“Oh, I’ve missed you,” he said.

You gave him a cookie and he and Nesta went out to train.

You had finished presents for Feyre and Elain and moved on to Amren and Nesta. You were going to make two different things, but the way to make them were similar. You needed to knit a rectangle and fold it into a book cover for Nesta and a jewelry holder for Amren.

You picked a thicker yarn so that the knitting would be quicker. Then you would sew a piece of fabric on the inside of both of them.

You had just begun when you were covered in shadows. You almost expected Azriel to arrive soon after, but the humming feeling in your chest told you he was still sleeping. The shadows had been following you the entire morning, but right now they were actually holding your entire body.

So you decided to put the shadows to work.

“So you push that needle into this hoop, then you twist the yarn around and flip up the hoop over the yarn twisted around the needle,” you said as you showed the shadows how to knit.

You sat together and knitted and it was surprisingly fun. They would pull your hair once a while because they had lost a stitch or done something else wrong, but they did a great job.

Azriel woke up and was ready to pull you tighter towards him.

But you weren’t there.

Panic immediately filled his chest. Had he been dreaming? Why weren’t you there? He looked at the time. It was eleven. He must have been sick or hurt.

“Kitchen,” his shadows told him.

Azriel threw on a shirt and ran to the kitchen. Relief filled his body as he saw you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and took in your scent.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” you told him.

You must have felt his emotions through the bond.

“It’s okay, just, please wake me next time,” he said and kissed your head.

That’s when he noticed his shadows. His shadows were feared creatures. They often killed or tortured with him. And people ran away in fear from just a sight of them.

But now, they were knitting.

“You taught them to knit?”

“Of course!”

Azriel couldn’t help all the emotions that filled his heart. It was ridiculous, but very cute at the same time.

“You’re cute,” he told you with a new kiss.

The two of you had moved into the living room. Azriel sat and read some reports, while you sewed with your legs in his lap. It was fire in the fireplace and hot chocolate stood on the table.

It was so calm and peaceful.

You were working on sewing the jewelry holder for Amren, when you pricked your finger with the needle.

“Ouch,” you said softly and put your thumb into your mouth. The metallic taste of blood hit your tongue.

You had pricked yourself with needles extremely many times. It became something you almost didn’t notice happened. So you started sewing again.

However, you were filled with a bunch of anxiety. As you looked up at Azriel he looked extremely worried.

He reached for your hand and brushed carefully over your thumb.

“You’re bleeding,” he said. His eyebrows were furrowed.

“Az,” you said. “I’m okay. It’s okay. Don’t worry.”

You moved away your sewing and held Azriel into your chest. His shaky breath told you he was crying. You realized that your blood definitely had triggered something.

“Shhh,” you kissed his head. “I’m here, my shadow. I’m not going anywhere. I’m safe. It was just a small needle. I’m safe in your protection.”

He calmed down more and more the more you spoke. He looked up at you with eyes that were just a little puffier than before. You kissed his forehead and held him a little longer.

Eventually, he started reading again and you moved over to Cassian’s present. You repaired some of his leathers. You finished both his pants and shirt and made sure they were sturdy enough to last him a long time.

For Mor, you begun making a fabric purse with a smaller compartment for makeup, a place holder for a drink and a bigger compartment for anything. The bad was almost finished when you started. You had started it before you got kidnapped. Picking it up again felt bittersweet. Let just say that both you and Azriel crying once again when you brought it out.

“It’s getting quite late, dear,” Azriel said as he held his hand out. He pulled you out of the couch and made the way to the bedroom.

His shadows were swirling lazily around you, but not in a sleepy manner. You moved your hand over to his back and drew a line down his entire back. His wing twitched just a little.

You knew very well what you were doing.

As you closed the door to the bedroom, you kissed him passionately. You moved to kiss down to his neck and ear. He let out a soft sigh. You locked eyes with his gentle hazel eyes and suddenly all you could think of was him.

Taglist: @prettylittlewrites @hailqueenconquer @onebadassunicorn @mich0731 @tele86 @mellowmusings @anarchiii @anainkandpaper @donnadiddadog @atomictyphoonkitten @annablack @graciepies @salvatoresister1 @nastylicious @plants-w0rld @stqrgirlies-blog @scoliobean @kbear8863

Dividers by: @issysh3ll

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Christmas Shift | Bucky 🎄

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female! Reader

Prompt : We're doing a poor job hiding our relationship troubles at this family event. 

Part 1 : Holly Jolly Charade

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband on Kindle. 👉 Now available on e-Kindle Amazon! << here's the link.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

It’s two days before Christmas, and you decided to go back home.

Your hand moved slowly to close the apartment door. It felt like you were forgetting something. Last year, he would always double-check the door before locking it.

This Christmas could be the last one, you thought, sighing.

You were headed to your parent's home for Christmas this time—mainly because your annoying aunt Teresa wouldn’t be there. On the ride, it was usually just you and Bucky, who started as a fake couple but ended up in a real marriage.

But it seemed like the honeymoon phase was over. You and Bucky had just had a big argument, which led him to stay at a hotel for a few days. That’s why you were here alone.

Your mom, Robin, greeted you with a hug. “Did the company lock you up?” she asked with a smile. “I’m glad you’re here before the storm.” She helped you take off your coat. “Bucky’s already here.”

You widened your eyes in surprise. He’s here?

“He’s got a much more relaxed schedule than you,” she added casually.

After Bucky resigned from the company, he invested in drone cameras and outdoor equipment. Since his hobby was photography, it seemed like the perfect fit. He made a good decision and gained a lot of profit. His work was successful, but his schedule was much more laid-back than yours.

As you walked into the living room, you saw Bucky talking to your dad and your cousins. He noticed you and made his way over to you, offering a side hug.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’d rather be here than with my dad, who’s with his third wife, and my mom, who’s with her new boyfriend,” he whispered, his lips brushing your forehead.

You and Bucky were in the room, sitting on opposite sides of the bed. The distance between you both felt greater than it ever had before. The usual closeness you shared during Christmas wasn’t there. Both of you acted like everything was fine, but your parents noticed.

Robin, sensing the tension, quietly led you to the master bedroom. “What’s going on? It feels like there’s a wall between you two.”

You sighed, your hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. “It’s…,” you hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “We…” You usually had the confidence to speak up at the company, but talking about your relationship with Bucky made your stomach knot.

On the other side of the house, your father was talking to Bucky in the living room. “Did you make a mistake with my daughter?”

Bucky looked at him, surprised. “How did you know?”

“Son, I’ve been married for 35 years. I would know. So, you did something,” your father said firmly, though not unkindly.

Bucky sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “She wants a baby. I’m not ready.”

Your father’s brow furrowed. “Why’s that?”

Bucky’s voice softened, and his eyes looked distant. “Because I’m afraid. I don’t think I’ll be a good father. Look at my parents. You saw them at the wedding.”

Your father nodded, understanding the depth of his concerns. “Well… it’s complicated. But you’re you, not your father.” He placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder. “You're a good man for acknowledging your doubts. It's not a shame, son. Everyone feels nervous about being a parent.”

Meanwhile, in the master bedroom, Robin sat across from you, her hand resting gently on yours. “Listen, I know things aren’t easy right now, but you and Bucky can make it. There will be challenges ahead, but that doesn’t mean it’s the end. You’ve built something real together, and that counts for a lot.”

You looked at her, searching for the reassurance you needed. Robin gave you a small, encouraging smile. “You’ve both come this far. You’ll find a way through this too. Just remember, love isn’t perfect—it’s about sticking together, even when it’s hard.”

Later that evening, you finally found the courage to talk to Bucky. He was sitting on the couch, his arms crossed as he stared out the window. You walked up to him, and without saying a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“I’m ready,” Bucky whispered into your hair, his voice low but steady. “I’m in it. If you’re in it.”

You held him tighter, your heart feeling lighter. “We’re doing a poor job hiding our relationship troubles at this family event.” You chuckled softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Yeah, but we’ll figure it out. Together.”

And the next Christmas, both of you came home—this time, with a beautiful, giggling baby girl in your arms. Bucky and you became the best parents this baby girl ever had.

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@mostlymarvelgirl

@scott-loki-barnes

@kjah97

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

[svt-luna]

ʚིᵋ ⋆ INSTAGRAM UPDATE ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── 241224: This Christmas, With Love

happy Christmas Eve, my loves!! happy holidays to you and your families! i hope you all have a great day/night with your loved ones. keep warm, eat a lot of delicious food, and i hope you all have gotten all you have wished for this holidays!! this is a long ig update for you lovelies and this is the first of many which are coming soon!! happy holidays once again and all the love, my lovelies 🎄🎉🤍

p.s. one-shot based on the events behind these instagram post, aka JeongNa’s Christmas Eve will be posted soon 👀💞

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ luna's instagram

Liked by jeonghaniyoo_n, ho5hi_kwon, pledis_boos, and 10,763,777 others

lunabae not all gifts come wrapped, some are sung. here’s my gift wrapped in melodies! a little something for the holidays. five songs for someone who makes my world brighter. maybe they’ll make yours a little warmer too! for the one who inspired it and for all of you 🎄🤍

Santa’s biggest secret this year? is that i made this about you, thinking of you, inspired by you, just for you @/jeonghaniyoo_n because Santa doesn’t know you like i do, my angel boy 🪽🤍

this Christmas, with love… out now!!

View all comments

jeongnadaily nobody fucking speak to me. i am being so serious rn.

nana-lulu-ya MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS INDEED!! YOON JEONGHAN IS ONE LUCKY SON OF A BITCH 😫

�� napipopeta17 HOW TF DOES ONE BECOME YOON JEONGHAN?!?

jiyeoniedaily FIVE NEW SONGS?! FIVE NEW FREE SONGS?!? FREE!!!?! BAE JIYEON?! NO, CALL HER SANTA CAUSE SHE JUST ENDED HIM!!

svt_angelcarat LUNA HOW DARE YOU BE THIS THOUGHTFUL I’M LITERALLY CRYING RN. I MEAN, IK ITS FOR JEONGHAN BUT STILL😭😭

↳ jxjforever not us losing our minds as if this was for us… this is for Jeonghan… JUST IMAGINE HOW HE IS FEELING?!??

↳ hanniehaeyo twirling his hair, kicking his feet, and giggling as he writes on his diary.

jeonghan_simp14 ‘Santa doesn’t know you like I do, my angel boy’��� IM SCREAMINGGGG THIS WOMAN KNOWS HOW TO WRITE A LOVE LETTER AND TURN IT INTO AN ALBUM???

whitelight_luna THE WAY SHE CALLED HIM ANGEL BOY AND SAID SHE KNOWS HIM BETTER THAN SANTA… she really said “watch this” and gave him the most meaningful Christmas gift ever

↳ ashonash SHE WON. BAE JIYEON WON. PERIOD. THE BEST GIFT. HANDS DOWN. NO ONE IS TOPPING THIS I’M AFRAID.

ohmysvt Yoon Jeonghan. Listen to me. You’re so lucky. YOU ARE SO LUCKY. SHE WROTE YOU SONGS???! A WHOLE ASS ALBUM INSPIRED BY YOU??? JEONGNA WON CHRISTMAS.

caratville_luv GUYS PLS THE LYRICS TO ‘Santa Doesn’t Know You Like I Do’ 💀 ‘He won’t bring you somebody that loves you more than me’— HELLOOO SHE— IS CORRECT.

↳ missbitch ‘so why can't I be the one to give you everything you want?’ GOODBYE I—

moonchild.97 She really out here saying, ‘Santa could NEVER. I KNOW MY MAN BETTER.’ THE WAY SHE LIVES AND BREATHES FOR JEONGHAN 😭😭😭.

seoksoonyoungdazed NOT ME GIGGLING LIKE A FOOL LISTENING TO ‘Winter Things’ 😭 it’s so soft and sweet like… who writes this???! LUNA DOES. BECAUSE SHE LOVES HER MAN THE MOST.

meaniescorner How do I find someone who loves me like Luna loves Jeonghan bc I’m officially unwell over this album.

↳ user17righthere Asked google the same exact question just now 😳

hannie_xoxo She just told the entire world that Jeonghan is her angel boy, gave us five love songs, and changed Christmas forever. I can’t do this rn 😭

luvmoonx LUNA STOP MAKING ME WANT TO BE YOU PLS.

ohhlujeong MISS THING SAID SANTA HAS NOTHING ON HER AND SHE IS RIGHT CAUSE THIS IS A MASTERPIECE 🙌

svt4lifeu SANTA DOESN’T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO?!? TRUE LOVE??! WINTER THINGS!!? WHITE XMAS!!? A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS???? Bae Jiyeon really is that bitch and I’m eating it up. This is love, ppl. THIS IS LOVE. ROMEO AND JULIET COULD NEVER.

hanlu.couple WHO EVEN NEEDS SANTA WHEN YOU HAVE LUNA?!?! I HOPE JEONGHAN IS SOBBING RN. IF HE ISN’T I WILL SOB FOR HIM 😭

↳ gyugyushadow HE PROBABLY IS. I MEAN I WOULD 😭

the14together Santa doesn’t know Jeonghan like Luna does BUT I WISH SHE’D LET SANTA KNOW HOW I FEEL BC I WANT LOVE LIKE THIS TOO 🤩🤩

↳ luv4luna97 HAHSHYAEGWGH THIS CRACKED ME UP 😂 (it’s funny cause it’s true and i relate.)

moonstruckhannie FIVE SONGS JUST FOR HIM? YOU CANNOT TELL ME SHE DOESN’T LOVE THIS MAN MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE IN THE WORLD.

svt_ot14fam How do we compete with Luna? Like Jeonghan stans… pack it up. THIS IS OUR CHRISTMAS ELIMINATION.

moonjestic97 The ‘Santa doesn’t know Jeonghan like I do’ is ICONIC, but ‘thinking of you, inspired by you, just for you’— my Jeongna heart is sobbing AND SCREAMING.

angelsong97 She’s in love. He’s in love. We’re all in love with their love. This is the most Christmas thing that’s ever Christmassed. MERRY CHRISTMAS 🎄🎉❤️

moonchildsvt This album proves what we’ve been saying all along: LUNA LOVES JEONGHAN THE MOST. PERIOD.

frostedmoons97 Jiyeonie really said “Santa could never” and literally changed the trajectory of Jeonghan’s Christmas and my life. WHAT A WOMAN.

diamondmoonnight This is my official application to be reincarnated as Jeonghan next lifetime bc I NEED LUNA TO LOVE ME THIS MUCH.

↳ iceprincess_luna I hate to burst your bubble but with THIS kind of love… it’s obvious that they’ll find each other again on every lifetime and universe.

↳ hannielover-96 don’t make me cry this is adorable and so true 🥹🤍

warmmoon_hannie Luna gave us five songs but ruined my life because I will never experience this kind of love. Thanks, queen!

caratunit14 This album is the definition of moonstruck and I’M OBSESSED. Jeonghan, she really said, “Only I know you the best.”

noona-luna97 GUYS!!! JEONGHAN’S POST!!! WTF?!? MOM AND DAD 🥹💖💖💖

Liked by lunabae, sound_of_coups, pledis_boos, and 9,652,762 others

jeonghaniyoo_n this Christmas, with my love, my moon 🌙🤍 @/lunabae

View all comments

jeongnadaily i just came from Jiyeonie’s post. Please, guys… I’m unwell. Give me a break to catch my breath, mom, dad 🫠

moonsandcarats NOT HIM SPINNING HER ALBUM TITLE INTO ‘this Christmas, with my love, my moon’— STOPPPPP I’M ACTUALLY SCREAMING 😭😭😭

lulunova17 Han. I just managed to stop screaming from Jiyeonie’s post for you… don’t do this to me rn.

jeonghaluvr95 JEONGHAN SAID YOU WROTE ME AN ALBUM, I’LL GIVE YOU YOUR CHILDHOOD DREAM PET. WHAT IS THIS LEVEL OF LOVE????

bunnymoon_97 A BUNNY. HE GOT HER A BUNNY. THE WAY SHE’S BEEN DREAMING OF HAVING ONE SINCE SHE WAS A KID I CANNOT BREATHE.

↳ jxjforever I AM HYPERVENTILATING WITH YOU GIRL!!!

hannieluna_otp The creative genius of taking her album title and turning it into the caption for his post… JEONGHAN REALLY IS IN LOVE LOVE AND SO IS JIYEON 🫵💞💞💞

caratluvangel Luna: gifts Jeonghan a whole ass Christmas album she wrote for him and writes the most romantic caption ever. Jeonghan: gifts Luna her childhood dream pet and writes the most romantic caption ever Me: rocking back and forth, ugly crying in the corner, single as fuck 😭

svtchaosclub A BUNNY!!?! A BUNNY 😭 IYKYK

moonlitangel97 Y’all this isn’t JUST a bunny; it’s YEARS of her wanting one and Jeonghan making it happen. I’M DONE. THEY’RE TOO MUCH.

↳ user7782652 Same 🥹 they are not good for my well being. My heart can’t take it anymore.

lunaticshannie LUNA WROTE JEONGHAN SONGS ABOUT KNOWING HIM BETTER THAN SANTA, AND HE SAID “OK HERE’S THE DREAM YOU NEVER GOT AS A KID. CHECKMATE.”— THEY’RE INSANE.

forevercarat14 His caption. THE CAPTION. ‘This Christmas, with my love, my moon.’ JEONGHAN YOU ARE THE MOST ROMANTIC MAN ALIVE.

moonstruckinlove The bunny isn’t just a pet; it’s a promise. A ‘I see you, I know you, I love you’ moment. I’M MELTING.

the14angels HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE LOVED BY JEONGHAN???? LUNA, SHARE YOUR SECRETS PLS. I’M BEGGING.

↳ sooniesoonsoon THE FACT THAT THIS COULD BE ASKED THE OTHER WAY AROUND IS INSANE 🥹

lunahope_97 She waited her whole life for a bunny but never got one bc her mom is allergic and her schedule has gotten busier as she got older AND JEONGHAN MADE IT HAPPEN. 🥹

↳ lunanovalover I just know she cried. I just KNOW it. I bet all that I have that Jiyeonie BALLED her eyes out.

jeonghanmoon93 HANNIE KNEW SHE WANTED THIS FOR SO LONG. THEY’RE IN LOVE AND HATERS JUST HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT.

whitechristmaslove The caption??! HER ALBUM TITLE BUT ABOUT HER BEING HIS MOON???? SIR PLEASE YOU’RE KILLING US.

↳ channieenie99 his moon and her angel boy 🥹🤍

angelhannie-95 They’re not just soulmates; they’re DESTINED. He knows her heart, her dreams, EVERYTHING. AND VICE VERSA. I’M OBSESSED 💖

bunnysvtlover No bc Luna is holding the bunny like it’s her whole world, and JEONGHAN KNEW EXACTLY WHAT WOULD MAKE HER THIS HAPPY 😭

hannieangelmoon It couple behavior 🤭🩷

jeonglunaluv Jeonghan’s love language is just MAKING SURE LUNA’S THE HAPPIEST WOMAN ALIVE, AND I LOVE THAT FOR HER ❤️‍🩹🥹

angelsandmoons Jeonghan really took ‘this Christmas, with love’ and made it ‘with my love, my moon.’ THIS IS LITERARY GENIUS 🤌💋

lunababejeonghan i CANNOT deal with them anymore!! first Luna’s Christmas ep dedicated to Han and now his gift for her being a fucking BUNNY!! Her DREAM BUNNY!! BYE—

moonstruckcarats Jiyeonie’s album is proof that Jiyeon listens, loves, and knows Jeonghan better than anyone else. This bunny is proof that Jeonghan listens, loves, and knows her better than anyone else. WE’RE ALL JEALOUS, RIGHT?!

jeonghanislove Jeonghannie and Jiyeonie are single-handedly rewriting what it means to be a thoughtful partner. A WHOLE ALBUM AND A WHOLE CHILDHOOD DREAM. ARE YOU KIDDING?

bunnymooncarat Every Christmas gift ever has been CANCELLED. THIS is the new gold standard. JEONGHAN DID THAT. LUNA DID THAT. THEY DID THAT. JEONGNA DID THAT.

↳ hanhanhannie-hae THEY WON CHRISTMAS!! JEONGNA WON CHRISTMAS 😫🙌💖

↳ svt-luna MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!! HAPPY HOLIDAYS 🎄❤️❤️❤️ THIS MIGHT BE THE BEST CHRISTMAS!!!

lunaversion_ CALL THEM MR. AND MRS. CLAUS

↳ jeongnlover Mr. and Mrs. Yoon soon.. 👀🤍

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUEST AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

Taglist: @yeoberryx @minminghao @angie-x3 @jennwonwoo @k13endall @heeseungthel0ml @chisskaa @megumi2020 @yoonzzziino @lllucere @smh-anon @yveclipse @randomworker @bunnystrm @iamawkwardandshy @gratefulbunny1 @bmo-bri @syren-ash @megseungmin @multiplums @unlikelysublimekryptonite @night-storm7 @cookiearmy @seokqt @btskzfav @billboard-singer @junhuisworld @caturdayvibe @coralbatlampzonk @sof1eya @lyraea @jihoonsbbygirl @cocopuff2424 @okoknotco @minvxq @soulphoenix1618 @whineywheeiny @rairaine @toplinehyunjin @ateez-atiny380 @cherrylovescheol @jiimtaee @blurr3db3rry @seomisaho @amanda08319 @peanutbutterslothsstuff @cheolsboo @allthings-fandoms @mystic-megumi @sherlockbye @tastyluvr

[lostintransist]

Chiseled Heart | Part 3

CW: A man being creepy at the gym

AO3 | Part 1

“She gave me a gift card.”

König stares at his boots, arms crossed and shoulders resting against the back of his therapist’s couch.

“I’m not seeing why this makes you so upset.” Rich shifts in his chair across the small room, putting his stylus on the screen of his tablet. “Last time we talked you told me you were worried about a woman you had helped at the gym since she had been hurt and now you’re mad that she gave you a gift card to say thank you for the help?”

Frustrated, König turned to stare out the window. Sometimes squirrels would scamper down the powerline and give him an excuse to avoid trying to find words. He doubted he would find the words for this feeling in any of the languages he knew.

“I am…upset because,” he pauses, collecting his thoughts, “Danke was enough.”

“Do you feel like it’s fair to say you are upset because the exchange of money changed the interaction for you?”

“Ja,” he nodded.

“Okay,” Rich glances at his watch. “Can I give you my thoughts on the matter? I know you’ve been working at understanding others more.”

König narrows his eyes but nods his consent. He had worked with Rich for enough years to trust his opinion.

“You said she told you that she would bring a card the next day you saw each other but insisted after you walked her to her car, right?”

“Ja.”

“Okay, did you consider that she felt like asking for help needed something in return? Walking a woman to her car is a layer of safety, a measure of security that to her must have been a weight off her shoulders. She doesn’t know you well but wants the exchange to be equal. Could it be that she didn’t want to burden you?”

König turns the words over in his mind. You had been so apologetic even ask you asked for his help. The only time König had ever feared for his life had been under the hands of his vater.

“Help is no burden,” he argues, not quite willing to concede the point.

“I don’t imagine that it is, you work hard to be kind. I am saying that from her perspective, help and kindness are not guaranteed. By virtue of being a woman, she is always at a disadvantage and will do what she can to keep herself safe.”

He grunted.

“Sorry König, this might be one of those times to use radical acceptance. You will never understand the fear of existing in a small body where every man is a threat.” Rich shrugged one shoulder.

A moment passes in silence before König reveals the other reason the interaction bothered him so much.

“She has started to appear in my art.”

That got a double eyebrow lift from Rich. It wasn’t often that König caught his therapist by surprise.

“You’re art is how you process a lot of the trauma from serving right? How do you feel that your gym buddy is in your art?”

“Conflicted.”

Rich said nothing, only noting something on his tablet.

The silence compelled him to speak more. Rich knew it and König knew Rich knew it.

“Carving her feels different. Pulling memories from stone reminds me of the sting of pain.”

“How does carving her feel?”

“Freeing.”

Rich studies König. König leans over and picks through the basket of fidgets that sat at the end of the couch.

“Do you want to go into that more or leave it for now?”

König delayed answering until he pulled puddy between his hands.

“Leave it.”

“I’ll make a note to check back on the topic next time we chat then. How is your art selling right now? It’s still on display at the gallery right?”

They drift into more familiar and safe discussions.

There is only five minutes left. He has been watching the clock. There wouldn’t be time to get deep into this.

“Tell me to stop, to stop talking to her.”

Rich’s brows lift with confusion, it is also in the lilting of his voice, “You want me to tell you to stop making a human connection? The goal we’ve been working toward for nearly seven months now?”

König scowled as he shifted on the couch, arms folding across his chest. It sounded stupid when he put it that way.

“It’s okay to be scared König. This is a big step.”

He doesn’t reply, debating how to settle this struggle within himself.

“Did you already schedule your regular appointment with the front desk?” Rich asks, letting the topic drop.

One thing he excelled at carving had always been hands. The intricacies and the expressions that can be found in fingers had fascinated him. It was your hands he pulled from a small chunk of granite. Before he knew they were your hands he had carved a delicate ring on the left hand. The fingers on the left hand curled over the right ones, the piece ending below the right wrist. The pose reminded him of how you held pressure on your bleeding finger those weeks ago.

Frustrated he set it aside to continue on a massive piece. With a view into a building, as wide as he is tall, a house of worship is starting to come together. He carved out the rough shapes of the pillars and dug through the stone to what he had decided to be the back wall. Now came the time-consuming work of removing stone until he could begin to carve the bodies that lay scattered along the floor. This had been one of his worst nightmares. They had been too late.

Music drifted through the space from his built-in speakers. König worked late into the afternoon until Feather, the gallerist, arrived to peruse his recently completed carvings to see which she would like to house and which would be listed on the website or hawked directly to wealthy buyers.

Feather looked like she ran an art gallery. Her bold colors, expensive suits, matching lipstick, and perfectly done hair always set König on edge. Even in her heels, the top of her head reached his elbow. He remained seated as she let herself into his studio.

“Ah! There is my favorite artist. Where are the new pieces for me?” She breezed past him as he stayed seated on his stool. Feather knew where the new pieces would be by now.

Ignoring her, König focused on his carving. He could not work while anyone else existed in his studio but this process of removing stone to access the image didn’t count.

After several minutes Feather appeared in his line of view.

“I want the whole lot, stellar as always my dear.” She spoke with a crispness to her words, as if her job required a level of uppityness.

“Same terms as always,” König fiddles with the edge of his chisel. It needs to be sharpened soon.

“Agreed,” Feather crosses her arms. Her eyes drift over his current work in progress before she turns and points to the hands he had set aside.

“How much for the hands?”

A chill wraps itself around his spine.

“Not for sale.”

A good business woman Feather narrows her eyes at him and throws out a number much higher than they usually agreed upon for smaller pieces. He lifts a brow before shaking his head.

She tried three more offers before sighing and folding her arms dramatically.

“König I know all artists are finicky about their work but I have a patron who has been asking for something like this for a long time. He would pay through the nose if I sent him a photo. He would pay especially well since it is your work.”

“Goodbye Feather,” he pulled the remote from his pocket and increased the volume of the music.

He didn’t create for money. König carved images from stone because if he left them inside they would fester and canker his soul.

Feather got the message and fired off a text to him before leaving of when her team would be by to pick up all the pieces agreed upon and confirmed his payment would be sent via wire after they arrived at the gallery. He marked the messages as read and set all his tools in their home nearly an hour later. Eating a quick meal he readied himself for the gym, and more of you.

His time with KorTac gave him the ability to appear focused while his mind drifts. Sliding through his thoughts König cannot quite decide how to feel about the interactions he has had with you. Bringing you up in therapy hadn’t helped yet.

When the doors move and allow you entry König is shocked at your smile as your eyes find his. He reciprocates the small wave you give him as you head into the changing room. Then curses himself for the niggle of brightness that your smile brought. Continuing his workout König kept you in sight but did not approach. He had been stilted and stiff when you had pressed the gift card into his hands on Wednesday and didn’t know how or if he wanted to try and bridge that gap.

A man approaches you four different times in the span of twenty minutes. When you finally snap at him, anger contorting your face, you point to König. He watches as you stomp away from the man and approach him instead.

Any anger disappeared from your eyes by the time you reached him. You folded your arms tight to your chest and blinked rapidly as if to fight back tears. When you stopped you stood entirely too close for the acquaintances that you were.

“König?”

“Ja?”

“Can you bend down a moment for me?”

He does as requested, not pausing to think that he should not accept orders from you.

“There is a man that is bothering me and I told him you were my boyfriend. Can you pretend until he leaves?”

König can only blink at you before glaring at the man in question. The prick sneers a huff of breath in your direction.

“How does one pretend to be a boyfriend?” He keeps his volume low.

“You could put a hand on my waist or something? I just need him to leave me alone. The reason I like this gym is most of the guys only talk to me when they have a correction or to encourage me to hit a new PR. I don’t want to leave but if he keeps bothering me I am gonna have to go home,” you tighten your folded arms to your chest, clearly upset.

Following the twitch of his muscles König pulls you into a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head as he lets his killer face stare out at the man who bothered you. The fucker tries to maintain a sneer, but when your arms slip around König’s waist and the hateful glare pummeling him from across the gym becomes too much he man left in a tizzy.

When you pull back from the hug König struggles to return his hands to his sides and not leave them trailing the top of your hip bones. His fingers ache both from the touch and the lack of contact.

You rub a palm under one eye, wiping away the wetness that collected there.

“Thanks, sorry. I had a bad day at work and then the nonsense with a guy being a jerk I might actually call it a night.” You sniff lightly, giving him a watery smile.

“We can work out together if you want?”

König took whatever courage he had found a way to take the reigns and shake it until the bastard had to be dead in his skull.

You rub a thumb beneath your nose, face contemplative.

“That would actually be okay, yeah.”

He blinks at you, unsure why you would say yes. And then unsure of how to make this work.

“I don’t want to disrupt your routine,” you rush to fill the silence that had grown between you, “I can do whatever you are doing today, provided we fix the weights for me.”

Nodding König replies, “Company is welcome, but no offering to pay.”

You tongue at your teeth behind your lips.

König gives a startled laugh. You had labeled the feeling he and his therapist were unable to articulate.

“Okay, you are uncomfortable with thank-you gifts. Got it.”

“Ja, help is given, not bought.”

A beautiful blush stains your cheeks. The sight of your blushing smile sticks like a bur on a sock as he walks you to your car and waves to you as you disappear into the night. The change in color on your face haunts his dreams.

Masterlist | Chiseled Heart Masterlist

@backseatsoldier minor updates from what you read but 😘

[natokkiz]

OUR PATHS | 18. i think i just blacked out (wc: 1k)

YOU tried to pass by jaemin’s desk quickly, hoping to avoid talking to him as you made your way into the office. but before you could slip past, he lightly caught you by the arm, stopping you in your tracks.

“y/n,” he said softly, his tone unusually serious, “can we talk?”

you weren’t sure why you felt the urge to run away again, knowing deep down that this conversation was inevitable. his recent behavior had made that much clear. hesitant, you nodded, reluctantly giving in. “sure.”

the tension between you was palpable, though likely invisible to anyone else. jaemin led you to a quieter corner of the office, away from prying eyes and curious ears.

he took a deep breath, leaning slightly against the wall. his usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced with something raw and vulnerable. “did i… do something wrong?”

you blinked, caught off guard. “what? no. why would you think that?”

he gave you a look—one filled with hesitation and a hint of fear. “because the past few days felt good. really good. like we were finally making progress. and now…” he paused, running a hand through his hair. “now it feels like you’re pulling away again. you ignored me all day yesterday. did i misread things? did i make you uncomfortable?”

you shook your head quickly, guilt settling heavily in your chest. “no, jaemin, it’s not that. i agree… it was great. you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“then what is it?” he asked, his voice softer but no less determined. “it feels like something’s changed, and i don’t want to keep guessing. if something’s bothering you, just tell me. please.”

“it’s not you, i promise,” you muttered, your voice almost too quiet for him to hear. you hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “i guess… i’m just scared.”

jaemin’s expression softened into a slight frown. “scared of what?”

before you could respond, his phone buzzed loudly. he glanced at the screen, his expression torn. “i’m sorry, i have to take this,” he said reluctantly, his gaze lingering on you. “but we’re not done talking about this, okay?”

you nodded, though disappointment flickered in your chest. as he walked away, you took the opportunity to gather your thoughts.

you clutched the strap of your bag nervously as you waited for jaemin to unlock his door. when the door finally swung open, a wave of nostalgia hit you—it was eerie being in his apartment again after all this time. the familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air, grounding you even as your mind raced.

from the hallway, luna padded out, her soft meow breaking the silence. she rubbed her head affectionately against your leg, still recognizing you.

“i think she missed you,” jaemin said softly, his quiet laugh easing some of the tension in your chest.

your thoughts were all over the place, unsure whether the night would end in resolution or further heartbreak. the two of you settled on opposite ends of the couch, the space between you feeling both vast and intimate. jaemin sat patiently, giving you the time to speak first.

“i’m sorry,” you began, your voice trembling. “for leaving you on read. for pulling away. i didn’t mean to—”

“it’s okay,” he interrupted gently, his gaze steady. “i just want to know why.”

you hesitated, searching for the courage to finally be honest. “i’m scared,” you admitted, your voice quiet and shaky. “i’ve been waiting for something to go wrong. waiting to wake up and realize this is too good to be true, that any round two of us would just be… a mistake.”

jaemin’s brows furrowed, his expression pained. “why would you think that?”

“because it happened before,” you said, your voice breaking. “you left before. and i know you’ve changed. i want to believe it. i think i already do. but it’s hard, jaemin. it’s hard not to wonder if it could happen again.”

jaemin shifted closer, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. “y/n,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the emotion behind it, “i know i hurt you. and i’ll regret that for the rest of my life. but i’m not going anywhere this time. i’m here, and i’m not just saying that. i’m showing you, every day, that i’m here to stay.”

your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him, his sincerity breaking down the walls you’d built so carefully. “what if i’m not enough for you?” you whispered. “or what if i’m too much?”

“you’re more than enough,” he replied without hesitation. “i’m the one who wasn’t ready back then. but it was never about you or how much i love you. i was still healing from my past, confused… and i hurt you because of it. that’s on me. but i’ve spent every day since realizing what i lost. and i’ll spend every day now proving that i won’t make the same mistake again.”

the room fell silent, the weight of his words settling over you. slowly, he reached out, brushing a tear from your cheek. “i don’t want to rush you, y/n. we can take this as slow as you need. but i need you to be honest with me. that’s all i ask. i don’t care how long it takes—i’ll wait. but i can’t keep chasing you if you won’t let me in.”

you nodded, a shaky smile breaking through your tears. “okay,” you said softly.

“okay,” he echoed, his own smile gentle and full of hope.

the distance between you shrank as jaemin rubbed gentle patterns on your hands.

“but… what if i don’t want you to wait anymore?”

jaemin froze at your words, trying to figure you out. you took a shaky breath before leaning closer, closing the gap between you. tilting your face up, you kissed him—a soft, lingering kiss that felt like both an apology and a promise.

prev | masterlist | next

NOTES | early merry christmas HEHEH. this is my gift to you all. TAGLIST (open!) | @polarisjisung @tommina @luvv4bby @222low @luluvhs @spideykeyring @dudekiss3r @sunghoonsgfreal @jeonghansshitester @injunnie-lemon @eternallyhyucks @njmluvr @n0hyuck @junviadinho @hyunnies-world @hahaechans @p4tyaraujo @baeseungcheolie @untilthesunrises @lotties-readings @mango-bear @angelicaleex @jungaji @luvvhaechan @lionzyon @y4wnjunz @luvandletter @applejaem @pikibell @keeryverse @botchedbrat @mystverse @t-102 @skzfairies @andyprkmyluv @gomdoleemyson @slayhaechan @channnaa @lovekm @sungsgirl @yewshi @hyuksworld @nanawrlds @blondiedae @cottonjaems @dearlyminhyung @kukkurookkoo @awktwurtle @cigsaftersuh @sehunniepot

[corseque]

Hi! I've been following you for ages for your great Solas takes and immaculate taste in sad men. I've been thinking about this because I have a Dragon Age Inquisitor who is an abomination, what do you think Solas would think about abominations/do you recall him ever talking about them? Both Anders/Justice and the more demonic unwilling variety.

Personally I would assume he'd be initially horrified because that might seem like a violation of consent for both parties, but after learning more about them he might grow more curious/respect actual unions a mage might have as an abomination. I am basically just workshopping an OC and hitting a wall and you're the local Solas sage, so... XO

Oh, that's so nice..

Solas is more chill with willing abominations than you might think. And he seems to know all about it already. In Jaws of Hakkon, in the quest called “In Exile” you meet a young mage named Sigrid Gulsdotten who had been willingly possessed by a friendly spirit in order to teach her magic. Which is what the Avvar do culturally to make mages safer.

Sigrid was getting old enough that it was time for her and the spirit to part ways, but she didn’t want to give it up because she didn’t want to lose the spirit as a friend/confidant. Solas has a surprising amount to say in Jaws of Hakkon in general about how the Avvar interact with and relate to spirits, and he talks a lot in this quest too. He is very gentle with her. Let me look up exactly what he says. When you find clues about the mage's failed ritual to part with her spirit, Solas says (a mage in your party always speaks here):

"Residual magic. Someone was casting a spell, and was interrupted. Or stopped."

"If a mage was performing a ritual to part with a spirit, she may have needed to replenish her strength."

Then later, when you talk to her, the conversation goes like this:

Sigrid: "I could not do it! I have no close companions in the hold! No kin! I cannot lose my only friend!"

Inquisitor: "You're friends with this… spirit?"

Sigrid: "It has taught me with patience and kindness since I was a child, frightened of the fire I could suddenly call down."

Solas: "A great comfort. But you are no longer a child."

Sigrid: "Some mages need the help of a god all their lives."

Solas: "Very well. Perhaps, however, ask yourself if it is help you need, or companionship."

Sigrid: "I do not wish to lose the one who loves me."

Here is a playthrough that has this dialogue:

At the end of the quest, if you recruit Sigrid for the Inquisition, Varric, Sera, Vivienne, Iron Bull and Cassandra have strong negative feelings about it, while Cole approves. Solas doesn't seem to approve or disapprove, as far as I can tell. He doesn't say anything, at least. When talking to the Shaman about this Avvar practice, you get this conversation:

Inquisitor: "You let spirits possess your mages on purpose?"

Shaman: "What better teacher than one woven from magic? The spirits in the hold have helped us in this way for hundreds of years. Once a mage masters their powers, their teacher departs, duty ended. Unless the mage is weak."

Inquisitor: "What happens to these "weak" mages?"

Shaman: "Their teachers stay with them and the other gods watch them both, so neither soul turns sick. If one does sicken, or the mage stands in risk of harming the hold… One day, they do not wake in their bed. It is very sad. It is what must be done."

Solas: "It is kinder than what happens in many mage Circles."

So Solas seems to understand the reality that abominations become corrupted more easily, and that it's probably best for abominations to separate willingly.

Solas offers to separate Lucanis and Spite, and says their forceful combination was "a crime against [them] both" so I can only assume that it's the willingness factor that he gets upset by, along with him always being upset at the thought of spirits becoming corrupted.

[stxrslutrestored]

BE STILL

pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie!reader

summary; rafe works a lot, and you need a lot, that means sometimes you have to come to a compromise 

content; ddlg dynamics, subspace, slight dry humping, cockwarming, female masturbation

authors note; lowkey I rushed the ending but I wanted to have at least one new full blurb out on each of my blogs

rafe is working in his office, doing some pointless admin work on his laptop that he claims is crucial, you know it’s not.

all day you’ve been huffing and puffing. hot and bothered, unable to calm yourself down. you need to be taken care of. you’d told rafe as much but all he’d done is promised you that he would later. you don’t want it to be later. 

it’s about midday when you decide enough is enough and go to see rafe. your mind is already starting to go fuzzy and you fear you won’t be able to stay stable by yourself. you pad down the hallway in your bare feet towards his home office. 

he doesnt turn back when you walk through the door, approaching from behind. you go up to him and he swivels his chair round momentarily, letting you climb into his lap and straddle him. you immediately cuddle up as he turns back to face the desk. 

you sit in silence for a moment before he speaks “what’chu doin’ up here huh?” he murmurs, still working around you, fingers tapping away at his keyboard. 

you bury your face in his chest “need you rafe.” you tell him, “need to stop thinkin’ please.” you say. 

rafe nods, rubbing your back with a free hand for a moment, “thought I told you to wait for that baby? don’t remember that?” he asks, still not looking. 

you whine, “can’t wait daddy.” you tell him, “just can’t wait. tried so hard but… but need you daddy.” you look up with your best wide eyes, needing him to take care of you right now. you notice that you’re absentmindedly starting to grind forward, your crotch starting to rub up just a bit against his. 

he sighs, “you really can’t wait huh?” you shake your head, affirming his question. he sighs again and then nods, “I’ll take care of you baby.” he tells you, “but gotta let me finish my work. gonna sit n’ be nice an’ quiet for me okay?” 

“okay,” you nod, feeling immense relief as you finally let your thoughts begin to melt away. you’re grinding on him now, weakly, but surely you are. his hand comes to your back to support you for a couple of seconds. 

“wanna kiss. c’mere real quick, yeah?” you immediately comply, starting to suck on his bottom lip with great vigor. he kisses back for a little bit before slipping his thumb into your mouth and pulling you away. “gonna sit on dad’s cock now. yeah? but gotta be real still.” 

barely registering his words you move back, ketting him undo his fly and then pull your panties down from under your short skirt. he takes you by the hips and brings you forward, gently lowering you onto his cock. 

you whimper at the stretch, it stings just a little but you quickly get settled. the first few seconds are okay, because you normally don’t move to start with anyway. but after those seconds pass it starts to feel weird. you have the urge to squirm around and stimulate yourself but the moment you even make a hint of a movement he stops you and murmurs “be still.” 

you whine, “dad,” you fall into his chest, propping your head up on hsi shoulder, “lemme cum first please.” you ask him, “gonna be still after that daddy. promise.” 

rafe shakes his head, “why don’t you rub that little clit of yours, then. can make yourself feel good on daddy’s cock by yourself, but I aint doing any work until later.” you huff at that response, but mind ever so cloudy, you decide to do it anyway. 

your hand snakes down to where your pussy is wrapped around rafe’s cock, you start to rub little circles. while it’s exhausting and irritating at first, it eventually feels good, and you allow yourself to get lost in the feeling. 

rafe may be a busy guy, and sure he doesn’t take care fo you in the most conventional way. but really, you wouldn’t wish to be doing anything else right now. 

[zablife]

Shelby Christmas Spectacular

Summary: The Shelby family and their friends gather for a memorable Christmas party.

A/N: Written for @little-diable Chi's 17K celebration. Two lines in bold are borrowed from the Christmas scene in The Godfather. I admit I deviated from the x reader requirement so I hope that's okay. I wanted to find a way to honor all my moots' lovely OCs. (See the end for credits.) Fair warning this might be the worst thing I've ever written, but at least it was made with love 🤍

Warnings: drinking, cursing, mention of a weapon, mention of illness, hint of nsfw

Frances had been right suggesting the enormous Christmas trees in each room of the Shelby home. Something in her caring nature had sensed the change in Mr. Shelby’s spirits leading up to Christmas Eve. Now her preparations were being praised by Tommy’s partner, Lucy, who went room to room admiring the ornately decorated boughs. She did raise a concern over the candles on the tree in the parlor, wondering if it might be best to extinguish them before John's lot began running circles around the tree. However, she thought better of it knowing Tommy’s trusted man, Don would be standing nearby. 

The gentle giant was a comfort to them both this past year and she trusted him implicitly with the protection of their home. Nothing very bad could happen to you with Don by your side, Lucy thought, recalling the days when he’d saved Tommy from himself when she couldn’t.

As she passed through the hall, a servant delivered a telegram on an ornate silver tray. "Who do you know in Hong Kong, ma'am?" the girl asked with awe struck gaze. Lucy plucked the card from the curious maid, squinting at the small type. Having a grand time. My wife and I will return in January." She read the last line once more in a haze of disbelief.

"So he married her?" Tommy rumbled with satisfaction, pleased to hear his cousin was finally settled with the witty and well-connected Mei Chang. Wrapping his arounds Lucy, he gave her waist a gentle squeeze of appreciation he too had someone loyal by his side.

Lost in their own world, they scarcely noticed the click of Polly's high heels against the polished wood. That is until her voice rose sharply behind them. "Married?" she cried.

Lucy attempted to hide the telegram, but Polly captured it between her fingertips at the last moment, reading the lines that exposed her son's secret.

"Thought that's what ya wanted, Pol," Tommy remarked, only to watch the lines of her face crease in despair.

"I wasn't there, Tommy," she noted sadly.

"We'll have a party as soon as they return," Tommy assured her, glancing tentatively at Lucy who was doing her utmost to bite her tongue. She was perhaps the last person one might expect to give a party in Michael's honor, but the placation seemed to soothe Polly so she didn't object.

There was no time to consider the proposal now anyway, Frances brightly announcing the youngest Shelby siblings, twins Sylvie and Sonya, were on the line from London. Any lingering sadness vanished as Polly practically sprinted into Tommy's office to be the first to speak with them.

A tear came to her eye as she listened to their cheerful greeting which sounded very far away. "I'm sorry I couldn't make the last performance of the year," she apologized, thoughts drifting to their graceful form en pointe.

"It's alright, Pol," Sonya assured her softly.

"We've been so busy with rehearsals, we wouldn't have had time for a proper chat anyhow," Sylvie added.

"I'm coming in the new year then and you'll tell me all about playing Odette, hm?" Polly hummed.

"I ...erm...wasn't chosen as Odette," Sylvie revealed, failing to conceal the bitter disappointment in her voice.

Polly's head snapped up at that moment, ready to battle with the ballet master she longed to torment each time he snubbed her nieces in favor of another dancer. "I'll make a call," she promised, fingers subconsciously stroking the flick knife in her pocket. "No, Pol!" the girls replied in unison.

Polly could only chuckle at their solidarity, knowing they'd have her head if she interfered. They hadn't changed a bit from their days running thru the fens as wild reckless wains who abhorred being told what to do.

"Alright," Polly conceded, relinquishing the knife's handle. "I'll stay out of it so long as you two keep out of trouble. Do you hear?" Even as she said it she didn't believe they would, especially during their upcoming break when they would likely spend their nights in clubs. "No galavanting with Chi!" she added sharply.

"We won't," they replied in static monotone, tired of the lectures about their friend who had been deemed a bad influence after John and Arthur learned of her penchant for priests and professors.

Wishing them a happy Christmas, Polly passed the phone to Tommy who undoubtedly wanted to be sure they'd extended an invitation to tonight's party to Alfie and his wife Rose. Another chorused reply came down the line in one long exasperated sigh. Apparently it was a great insult to suggest they shouldn't have been trusted with the task.

Tommy rolled his eyes as he selected a cigarette from its case, allowing them to playfully berate their older brother about his lack of faith in them. Wishing them well for tonight's performance, he ended the call, eyes drifting toward the cars arriving in a long line down the front drive.

Of course Ada would be the first to appear, her glamorous new style on display for all to see. He smirked to himself as he took in the sight of her bright red lipstick specially ordered in New York and shipped to Boston by the caseful now that she could afford it. His sister had dressed to impress this evening and he was curios to see who she'd chosen to escort her when he nearly choked at the sight.

Her old friend Irene stepped from the car moments later, arm wrapped snuggly beneath Ada's gloved hand as they ascended the steps of Arrow House. "Are they..." Tommy began.

"Together?" Lucy offered, meeting Tommy at the window. She only shrugged at the question, uncertain of the details, though she quickly made a note to find out.

The car no one seemed to be able to place was the expensive Bentley, a newer model which put Tommy's to shame. As Bonnie and Vano passed, a long, low whistle rose from their mouths in appreciation of such a fine automobile.

"Don't you be lookin'!" Johnny Dogs scolded as he followed in their wake. "M not just gonna be lookin'," Vano whispered as he jabbed Bonnie in the ribs. His eyes roved the emerald green paint and polished chrome accents, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Nodding politely to the driver now exiting the car, he thought of nothing but a carefree joy ride later when no one would know he was missing.

He might have thought the car was impressive, but his jaw dropped at the sight of who exited moments later. A strikingly beautiful woman with tan skin and dark hair adjusted a scandalously low cut gown beneath her fur.

"Who is that?" he asked Bonnie.

"That's Eva Nelson and you best not look at her either, dinlow!" Bonnie advised, averting his gaze as Jack Nelson glowered at them. "He'll take a garrote to your balls for less," he gulped.

Vano only chuckled in reply, the cloak of youth and stupidity providing ample protection against Bonnie's warnings.

"Thought you were here to see Evie?" Bonnie remarked, watching his friend carefully.

"I am," Vano replied, straightening his jacket to impress Mr. Shelby.

As they reached the front door, they were quickly parted by a large slobbering animal barreling toward Tommy. As the enormous mastiff left a shining trail of saliva in puddles along the carpet, his owners followed behind with wide smiles.

"Tommy!" Alfie called out, arms outstretched in cheerful greeting, his cane nearly bashing Bonnie on the head.

"Alfie," Tommy barely acknowledged, preoccupied with the whereabouts of the dog. "And Cyril," he added with a slight start to his voice and a wince upon hearing the crash of something breakable in the next room.

"We couldn't bear to leave him alone for the night. I hope you don't mind," Rose commented with airy nonchalance. "Besides we know how fond you are of him." It was clear by the barely concealed grin of impish delight she knew that to be false. Alfie couldn't help the roar of laughter upon seeing Tommy's reddening face only made worse by the appearance of a distraught Evie.

"Dad, my ducks!" she shrieked, waiving her hands in perplexed gesturing which told him nothing of the flapping and honking created in Cyril's wake.

Momentarily distracted by the half-eaten wheel of cheese in Evie's hand, Rose began to snicker. They were full fledged giggles by the time Polly came rushing in to chide the teen. "For fucks sake, Evie, put that back!"

In a failed attempt to hide the cheese behind her back, she felt Polly tug her arm away to assess the damage. Noting the prominent teethmarks gnawed savagely into the rind, Polly cast a horrified glance at Tommy who was pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off an inevitable headache. He would need more than the one permitted drink to get through tonight, he thought.

After Arthur had been found drunk in the stairwell earlier in his Santa costume, he'd promised Lucy to stay sober in order to chaperone. Now the job would have to fall to nurse Charlotte as Tommy urgently motioned for a maid to bring him three fingers of whisky.

Then he called for another at the sight of Finn stumbling from a nearby closet, Santa suit around his ankles and striped underpants on display for all to see. "What the fuck are you doing, eh?" Tommy asked in exasperation, assuming Finn had shirked his duty in favor of more amusing activities. "Pull your trousers up, there are children here," he hissed at his younger brother.

Clutching at the fuzzy red material, Finn retorted, "It's the bloody kids who pulled 'em down. What did Esme put in those cakes?" Just then a chorus of war whoops erupted down the corridor, a sugar fueled search party giving chase. Finn scrambled away as they rounded the corner, continuing to hunt their uncle in manic delight.

Alfie escorted his wife into the drawing room with Rose clutching at her sides, wheezing through tears as she told her husband she'd found a new appreciation for Christmas festivities.

Jack and Eva Nelson were not as amused by the scene before them, Eva making snide comments about everything from their pitiful decorations to the lack of champagne. Jack didn't attempt to correct her, hoping to stay on her good side long enough to fuck on Shelby's desk later. A literal and figurative fuck you to his former business partner.

Blissfully ignorant to the scheme being concocted before him, Tommy leaned into Polly to discuss another pressing matter. "Pol, there are some people here not on the list." He eyed Luca Changretta, wondering when his old enemy had snuck past his guards.

As he approached the uninvited guest, he quickly realized Luca wasn't alone. A petite blonde with a slight baby bump took Luca's hand, her warm smile melting the ice in Tommy's cool stare.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Emily Changretta," the woman announced cheerfully. "You have a lovely home," she complimented her host.

"Thank you," Tommy managed with a tight smile. Turning to Luca he asked through gritted teeth, "And why are you in my home, Mr. Changretta?"

Luca shrugged as he attempted to apologize for the business with Solomons last year, a gesture Emily insisted upon to clear the air before their child was born. He stumbled as he chose his words, the act of humility quite unfamiliar to him. "Anyway...I come baring gifts to show there's no hard feelings on my end," Luca confided, reaching into his jacket pocket.

Misreading the gesture, Tommy pulled his revolver from his side at lightning speed. Seconds later he heard another gun cock beside him, realizing Don had been watching in the shadows.

As the crisis unfolded, Emily shielded her bump with an ear piercing shriek. She watched as Luca raise his hands into the air, a good natured chuckle tumbling from his lips as he assured her, "It's okay, honey. They don't trust nobody." He instructed her to remove a small box from his pocket and she did so with trembling hands. Holding it up for Tommy to see, Luca lightly shook the contents with a taunting smile.

Tommy could only sigh in relief as he holstered his gun and gave Don the signal to stand down. Reflexes sharp with lingering adrenaline, Tommy deftly caught the box as it came sailing through the air at him. As it clicked open an expensive set of gold engraved cufflinks sparkled back at him from the velvet lining and he furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Just tryin' to help you dress better," Luca said with a wink. Tommy's jaw clenched at the old insult resurfacing. It was clear Luca would never tire of making jokes at his expense.

Apparently that wasn't the only thing he had in mind to annoy Tommy, having brought a Sicilian business associate with him as well. Stefano Spinietta was a loathsome man who wore too much hair pomade and reeked of pungent cologne which lingered in every room he passed through. He also boasted endlessly about his family's importance and a girl back home desperate to become part of it.

As Lucy became the fifth person to hear his speech, she rolled her eyes and whispered to her horse trainer May, "I'd wager a tenner that Nina despises him more than I do." Needing a break from the head splitting boredom of the self important little man, Lucy went in search of better company. She felt a bit guilty leaving Ethel and May to chat with him, but knew they were more than capable of handling the pretentious weasel with their caustic wit.

In no time she found Ada and Irene, the women showering her with compliments on her new velvet green dress. "Please thank your mum for me, Irene. She really outdid herself this time," Lucy requested.

"She's the best dressmaker in Small Heath," Irene agreed.

"I think you both share that honor," Ada reminded her with a proud grin. She never tired of discussing Irene's gift for working with fabrics, even if the woman was too modest to admit her talent.

"Have you seen the dress Arthur bought for Heaven?" Irene asked, changing the subject to something other than herself.

"She looked stunning until Arthur vomited down the front," Charlotte replied, joining the conversation and the party for the first time that evening.

"Charlotte! I'm so sorry Tommy saddled you with Arthur tonight," Lucy apologized. She quickly filled a cup with punch and offered it to their employee turned close personal friend.

Charlotte dismissed the notion with a soft laugh. "It was no trouble. "Minding Arthur is like minding a sleepy kitten," she assured Lucy, clinking their glasses together in a show of solidarity.

"Not like Tommy then?" Lucy joked, everyone now thankfully able to laugh at the times Tommy had cursed and thrown things at the woman tasked with helping him walk again.

"God, Tommy was more like a savage lion!" Charlotte quipped, earning a hearty laugh from Lucy.

"Still is!" Lucy added jovially.

The women had hardly noticed Heaven appear, despite the stark contrast of her flowing white hair in a sea of brunettes. She had fashioned a new outfit out of the clothes she packed for the next day and somehow looked even more stunning than when she arrived.

"Heaven's back!" Ada exclaimed, waving her over to them.

Making her way through the crowd, Heaven appeared anxious and a bit out of place until they realized why. In her right hand, she awkwardly held the wrist of a little boy shivering of cold and clutching a stuffed toy to his chest.

Knowing that Heaven never knew what to do around children, Lucy took the lead. "Who have you got there?" she asked, looking down at the small child with a look of pity. His clothes looked far too thin for the weather and his teeth chattered loudly despite the gramophone playing a spirited jazz tune.

Heaven only shrugged, releasing the boy's hand as Lucy bent down to have a chat with him. "My name's Lucy. What's yours, love?" she asked in a warm, welcoming voice.

"Isaac, ma'am," the polite child replied, shifting his weight as he grew nervous with the attention of so many people.

"And who have you got there?" she asked, pointing to the toy he was squeezing beneath one arm.

"Mr. Giraffe," he sniffed before falling silent once more.

"Hello, Mr. Giraffe, what brings you all this way?" Lucy asked the toy animatedly.

Eyes flicking down to the well loved friend he always carried, Isaac confessed, "He's here to see Mr. Shelby. We need to ask a favor for my mum."

Lucy stared up at Ada and Heaven who only returned quizzical looks. None of them had ever seen the boy before and they certainly didn't know of his ailing mother, bed ridden back in town. However, the toy now looked familiar to Ada who gently asked to see it.

As Isaac held the one eyed friend to her patiently, she gasped at the recollection of Tommy donating it after Florence left home. The child was indeed telling the truth that he knew her brother. She nodded determinedly to Lucy, taking Isaac by the hand to see Tommy.

He was a brave lad, asking Tommy for help without tears and was swiftly rewarded with treats and the company of the other children. He settled in beside them as Emily taught them card games, whispering her best tips for counting cards. By the end of the evening Isaac was driven home with a belly full of cake and a doctor to see to his mum.

Waving goodbye from front steps, Tommy and Lucy stood arm in arm beneath a star filled sky. They sighed in unison, the long day wearing on them both.

"It's been quite a night, hasn't it?" Tommy recollected, too tired to think of the guests still lingering inside or the enormous mess to be cleaned after Cyril chased Evie's ducks through the lower level of the house bringing a couple of Christmas trees crashing down.

"And we've Michael and Mei's wedding breakfast to plan," Lucy pointed out.

Tommy hummed in recognition, no further words spoken between them. Lucy merely offered the comfort of her presence without the need to fill the silence. However, internally she was going over Frances' unofficial count of the mayhem: 12 guests too drunk to drive, 11 frantic maids to serve them, 10 pound missing from the safe, 9 bottles of whisky consumed, 8 stolen hubcaps, 7 smashed vases, 6 traumatized ducks, 5 suspiciously sticky piles of paperwork in Tommy's office, 4 men in need of stitches, 3 carpets needing cleaning, 2 overturned trees with broken ornaments and 1 ruined Santa suit.

She vowed not to think of it all now. Not when she'd yet to have a dance with Tommy. So she gently guided him inside to sway beneath a sprig of mistletoe. Resting her head on her lover's shoulder, she leaned into his strong frame with a contented sigh.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Tommy asked.

"Me? Oh, just you," she admitted with a giggle.

"Was tonight everything you wanted?" he inquired thoughtfully, cheek pressed to the top of her head.

She nodded slowly, grazing her cheek against his shirt front. "Everyone together and no fucking fighting?!" she exclaimed it like the miracle it was.

"We pulled it off," Tommy announced, leaning in for a celebratory kiss.

The tender moment was soon interrupted by Arthur's rough voice and the sound of mud caked boots sliding on hardwood. Still half drunk, Arthur staggered into the room. Pushing his hair from his forehead, he grumbled, "Fookin' kids!"

"Who, Arthur?" Lucy snapped.

"Isaiah and Vano are fightin' in the garden, Tom," Johnny Dogs finished the thought as he poked his head around the door frame. "Somethin' about Evie," he shrugged.

"Fuckin' hell," Tommy huffed, striding out to confront his daughter's suitors.

"Daddy, wait!" Evie cried out as she heard him stomping down the hall toward the back door. She grabbed hold of his coat tails, attempting to halt her father and his infamous temper.

"It was nice while it lasted," Lucy commented, holding up the hem of her gown to rush after them.

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

"It's rubbish isn't it?" Cillain asked, peering over the script he'd been reading aloud for the past twenty minutes.

A snort of laughter erupted from across the sofa, Clara's hand clapping over her mouth to stifle her giggles. "I didn't want to say anything..." she began before Cillian cut her off with a hearty laugh of his own.

"You didn't have to," he noted, tossing the pages aside as he pulled his wife into his arms. Cocooning her in his warm embrace they sat for some time silently considering the confidential pages of the Peaky holiday special.

"Stephen's taking the piss surely," Clara said as she thumbed through the pages of new characters and scenarios never once mentioned in the show. "It reads like..." she attempted to find the least offensive term to describe the disjointed work.

"A screwball comedy," Cillian offered.

"I was going to say fever dream," she confessed, looking up at her husband's striking blue eyes to determine how serious he was about the project.

"I know what you're thinking," he smirked, taking her chin in his hands. "But we'll hire Brummie to polish it for us and it'll be grand."

Clara gave him a worried look, "Isn't she the one who likes to bring out Tommy's dark side? I'm not sure I want to live with you whilst you channel him!"

"What about the American?" he asked with a deep sigh.

"K? I do enjoy the sentimental moments she creates," she remarked wistfully. "But I don't know why you're disregarding the other projects you've been sent. The romantic comedy about the tattoo artist with purple hair or the drama with the Kurdish Italian academic?"

However, he hadn't quite been listening, another thought suddenly stealing his attention. “You know, if we did this holiday thing, Marianne would be perfect for Lucy,” he mused, thinking of the enormous success of his friend's recent play and her rave reviews.

"You're actually entertaining the idea?" Clara asked hesitantly.

"Well I don't have to decide tonight. Let's forget about it for now, yeah?" he suggested, eyes growing heavy. "I want to enjoy the peace and quiet while we have the house to ourselves."

"A silent night," Clara agreed with a nod, leaning in for a deep kiss that would surely distract them both.

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

Credits:

Brummie (as herself) @brummiereader

Charlotte (Tommy's nurse) @toms-cherry-trees

Chi (as herself) @little-diable

Clara Murphy (Cillian's wife) @cillmequick

Don (Tommy's employee and lover) @the-makingsofgreatness

Emily (Luca's wife) @darklydeliciousdesires

Ethel (May's gf) @shelbydelrey

Eva (Jack's wife) @evita-shelby

Evie (Tommy's adopted daughter) @novashelby

Heaven (Arthur's wife) @call-sign-shark

Isaac (boy from Small Heath) @garrison-girl-08

Jiyan-a.k.a "the Kurdish Italian academic" (Cillian's love interest in Shadow of the Sea) @lunarubra

K (as herself) @runnning-outof-time

Lucy (Tommy's partner) @mischievouslittlecreature

Marianne (Cillian's theater protege) @look-at-the-soul

Mei (Michael's wife) @vivianleighwishesshewasme

Mr. Giraffe (Florence Shelby's stuffed toy) @teenwolf-theoriginals

Quinn-a.k.a "the purple haired tattoo artist" (Tommy's love interest in Misadventures) @moral-terpitude

Rose (Alfie's wife) @justrainandcoffee

Stefano (Sicilian bastard) @peakyswritings

Sylvie & Sonya (Tommy's twin sisters) @pacifymebby

Vano (a gypsy boy travelling with the Golds) @wonderlanddreamer

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

Tag List:

@alanadetigy 

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@theshelbyclan

@red-riding-wood

@elenavampire21

@lyarr24

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@everythingelseisextra

@stilestotherescue 

@helen06dreamer

@pietroxreader 

@galactict3a

@ietss

@mostly-marvel-musings

@writeroutoftime

@yolobloggers

@outlanderuniverse

@anilovessadbooks

@tremendousstarlighttragedy

@elliaze

@leenieweenie

@snickersmee

@niktwazny303

@copinghex

@margaret-morriss-secrethideout

@hecatemoon87

@ryecosse

@dandelionprints

@cillianmurphyfanatic

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@mrsarnasdelicious

@justlulu

@rangerelik

@babayaga67

@kmhappybunny240

@babaohhhriley

@literishdegree99

@padfootdaredmetoo

@smailaway

@aesthetic0cherryblossom

@allie131313

@xiluvfictional-men

@mrs-bellingham

@duckybird101

@writers-hes

@neonpurplestars89-blog

[kiestrokes]

Day 22: Jung Wooyoung | NSFW

▸ Idol: Jung Wooyoung of ATEEZ ▸ Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. ▸ Genre: active WIP, foreplay, sexual tension, feelings, slice of life. ▸ Vibe: this was the first ever fic idea that I had for ATEEZ back in 2023, I just was trying to find a plotline for it, aside from just a WooSan!threesome. College bestie Woo, hot neighbor San, eventual smut. Parts are loosely based on my funny irl experiences of my 20's. And I mean loosely, I didn't fuck any of my friends. ▸ Warnings: language, miscommunications, feelings of betrayal, bisexual struggles, soft angst and hurt feelings.

Sexually Explicit Content: sexual tension, consented kissing, over the clothes touch of the vagina, cuddling, idk there's nothing really here imo.

🗝️ Note: Has not beta-ed by me or anyone else. THIS IS A WIP! (it is being posted for my wipmas.) It is not complete; this is very much a rough outline/first run through. So I consulted my big three @chans-room @minisugakoobies @minttangerines for the special version of todays WIP-mas. Thank you kindly for putting up with me. Enjoy the king prawn meme edition of this 🤗 full text version at the end for those the photos won't load for!

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

「 25 Hours: Hard, Soft and WIP-mas Masterlist 」

College friend Wooyoung. You’re in a coed dorm. You first meet Woo making out with another guy and just assume he’s gay.

The two of you go about your blooming friendship with no hiccups. He’s affectionate and cuddly with everyone so it never lingers in your mind to be more. Him sleeping over, cuddling, morning woods, dirty dancing, kisses.

Until you’re graduated and moved into an apartment together. You’re in the kitchen doing something. One of Wooyoungs causal partners compliments your butt and you’re surprised.

Wooyoung speaks up “right? She has a fantastic ass.”

“Since when do you look at my butt?”

“I’ve always looked at your butt.”

You shrug it off knowing how hyper sexual he is. Until you’re at a holiday party and see Wooyoung come out of the bathroom with a woman.

You’re confused.

One of your friends asks you why, you explain Wooyoung is gay.

“Well yes he’s bisexual.”

“What?” They laugh thinking you’re joking, “wait you didn’t know? I thought you two were” they hand motion.

You blink confused and text your college roommate. They confirm, informing your Wooyoung has given them several orgasms. The room spins and you excuse yourself. Leaving on your own.

Stumbling up your stairs since the elevator is broken. You slip on something and the new neighbor catches you.

Wooyoung comes running up then, greeting the neighbor and taking you into your apartment.

You blurt out “you’re not gay?”

Woo puts your shoes away and turns to you confused.

“Of course I am.”

He gets down on his knees to help you of out your tights like always. You stop him.

“No Woo you’re bisexual.”

He smiles at you, “yes silly.”

His smile slowly falls as you stare deadly at him. “Wait- you didn’t- how?”

He sits back, fingers braced on your calf for balance.

“Can we just go to sleep?”

You stand, after brushing his hand off. Wooyoung catches your wrist.

“Wait are you mad at me?”

You sigh, “no im just confused, we can talk about this tomorrow.”

His thumb traces circles over your pulse. “Ok.”

He leans in to give you his usual goodnight kiss and you pull away. The hurt written on his face. He lets you go to bed. The next morning he’s peaking in. You call him over and he wastes no time climbing in and cuddling you.

“I thought you knew.”

“It’s my fault for being so focused on my studies.”

“No!” You lay there listening to his heartbeat.

“Are you disappointed?”

“Why would I be disappointed?”

“Everyone loves a gay best friend. Bisexual is like the knock off verison.”

Woo looks sad, you sit up to look down at him.

“Bisexuals are definitely not the knock off gays. You can’t help what gender or non gender you’re attracted to.”

He reaches up to stroke your bottom lip, “you didn’t let me kiss you goodnight.”

You tug his hand down.

“It’s just a little different right now.”

Woo nods.

Things are kind of back to normal.

Both of you are crushing on the hot new neighbor. You haven’t let Woo kiss you goodnight. He’s sad but respects your boundary. Until it boils over one night and you two fight.

“I just miss kissing you goodnight.”

“You fucked my college roommate but never me, was I not good enough.”

Wooyoung gapes at you, hands tugging on his hair at the temples. Gets up. Paces and comes back.

“You were beyond good enough. So good I didn’t want to risk losing the friendship we were growing.”

You stare at him and then he scoots forward to take your hands in his.

“I never fucked you because you’re so much more than a causal lay to me.”

You nod. You let him kiss you goodnight that night, it’s like everything snaps. There’s a gasp and then Wooyoung has you pressed into the wall, more than a goodnight kissing you. You cling to him and his hand trails down your body. Heel of his hand pressing into your clothed cunt.

“Ahh Wooyoung” you gasp into the side of his neck.

And he backs off. Bracing a hand on the wall next to you.

“Sorry sorry. I’ve just been so worked up about our relationship that I haven’t gotten laid.”

He kisses your cheek and heads to bed without another word.

© COPYRIGHT 2021 - 2024 by kiestrokes  All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

[holmesianlove]

Chapter 24 -  Pudding

The next morning, John was in a good mood, working in the kitchen. The evening with Sherlock had been quite lovely in the end, just the two of them, alone together. He realised he hadn��t finished speaking to Sherlock about the case, though. Sherlock had been to see his brother, hence he'd needed the ice cream too, but didn’t say why. So when Sherlock strolled in to find the mess surrounding John, his face a little horrified, John already jumped in to distract him.

“Was he mad?” John asked.

“Who?” Sherlock looked confused. 

He was already dressed. Looking nice for this time of morning. Perhaps he was about to go out for the day. Should John have checked if they had a case first? Had John forgotten something they were doing entirely?

“Mycroft. Was he mad that the case wasn't as exciting as he had hoped? You didn’t say.” 

“Oh. He'll get over it,” Sherlock said with a flippant hand gesture.

“Did you still get paid, though?” John turned to ask.

“Yes, we got paid,” Sherlock corrected.

“Good,” John said, nodding as he worked. 

“What are you doing in here, then? It smells amazing,” Sherlock sighed, walking in and looking around. Every surface was a mess, all covered in bowls and flour, and spices.

“I thought I'd cook a Christmas pudding. I found my Nan’s recipe.”

“Really? You've never done that before,” Sherlock said, surprised.

“I was feeling inspired by all the sweet goodness on our trip,” he said with a laugh. “Well, actually, I also promised Molly I would bring… something to the party.” He grimaced. Sherlock was not thrilled about having to go in the first place.

Sherlock flashed him an annoyed look.

“I know. I know. And you wanted to get out of going. I know.”

Sherlock went straight to the kettle to make tea. 

“Anyway, I agreed to bake some cookies - simple enough. And then, when I was looking through my recipes I found the pudding recipe and I thought I’d make that just for us... to have, before you go away for Christmas.” John looked around him at the mess and suddenly felt overwhelmed. 

“Can I help?” Sherlock asked, noticing John's distress.

“You ah… you want to help?” John asked, looking surprised and nervous at the offer.

“Yes, John. I want to help. Put me to good use. Just let me have a tea first.”

“You’re not doing anything today?” he checked.

“Nope. Free as a bird,” he said with a smile. He grabbed his tea and moved over to a chair placing his cup on the one corner of the table that was clear of cooking paraphernalia.

“Ok. Sure. Here, put an apron on or that posh shirt of yours will get ruined.” John handed him an apron from the cupboard and then set about trying to organise the chaos a bit, now that he had someone else involved in it. Once Sherlock had finished his tea, John passed him a bowl with dough in it and a rolling pin.

Sherlock still managed to make wearing an apron look sexy. It irritated John - making it hard for him to focus. He set Sherlock to rolling out dough and pressing the biscuit cutter into it, making different Christmas shapes and placing them on the tray for baking. For a while they worked in silence, just concentrating on what they were doing. John mixed his soaked fruit into the bowl of dry ingredients and got the pudding mixture sorted.

“This is nice. I feel like we usually don't share in the cooking together,” he said finally.

“I’ve made you cook too often,” Sherlock rushed to reply.

“It's alright. I don't mind doing it so long as you don't mind my terrible cooking,” John laughed. 

“Your cooking isn’t terrible.”

“Well, I’m not a terrible cook. I don't know, I just assume you are more accustomed to nicer food.” John blushed at the admission. His basic cooking kept them alive, he supposed. It was sustenance, but it wasn’t fine dining.

“John, we get takeaway when I’m in charge, or when you’re tired. When you make time to cook, it means something. To me, at least.”

“Well, I appreciate that. And that you don’t, you know, make fun of my cooking. I'm sure you can cook too.”

“Yes, I can, and I have done so on occasion, but when my brain's busy and my body's tired, I struggle to sum up the energy. My brain often doesn't have room left to think about what I want to cook, or what I could cook, or what I should cook… or if we have the ingredients… or when I'll have time to go to the shops to get the ingredients. You just have this ability to look at what's in the fridge and make something up. I can't do that.”

“You're a chemist!” John exclaimed. “I would have thought potions would be your specialty.”

“No, funnily enough. At least, I don't do that with food, so much as actual chemicals. Not advisable for the kitchen.” 

“Yeah, all right, genius,” John teased. "Hasn't stopped you running experiments in here, has it."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. His experiments on the kitchen table were always a source of heated conversation. “But honestly, John, that's a skill. I can follow a recipe and I've cooked some very fancy, very impressive things when I was younger, but I'm following someone else's recipe with ingredients they've told me to buy. You can just improvise and I am constantly in awe of that.”

“Okay, that makes me feel a little bit better. Keep going with the compliments.” He flashed Sherlock a grin and his eyes sparkled with joy.

“I really like that one you do with the… with the minced meat?”

John laughed. “Mystery mince?” 

“Is that what you call it?” Sherlock chuckled.

“Yes, but it's just a bunch of stuff from the cupboard. It's just a mix of herbs and leftover veg and mince on toast it's not rocket science.”

“Well, I like it.” Sherlock lifted his chin defiantly.

“Good to know.” John chuckled to himself. “It feels good to know that I can still impress a genius.”

“You are a physician, John, you're not an idiot.”

“No, I know. You're just… very intimidating.”

“Me?” Sherlock looked shocked.

“Yes. You’re very—“

Sherlock’s brow creased as he watched John. Was that really what he thought? Was that why he was so nervous all the time? 

“You're very scathing sometimes... very unforgiving of people who you think are stupid. And I am prone to a lot of stupid things. So…” He looked down at his bowl, suddenly embarrassed he’d said anything.

“Oh, John, you're not even close to the idiots we see the rest of the time. You are an army surgeon. Are you seriously suggesting that I would think that you are stupid?” Sherlock asked.

John thought about it, and while they occasionally called each other idiot, he knew it was more in an affectionate way, somehow. A term of endearment. He’d used it on Sherlock too, and Sherlock Holmes was no idiot. He never meant it like that. “Well, I suppose when you say it like that, it sounds silly.”

“Perfectly ridiculous,” Sherlock said. He went back to working the dough. “John, maybe I’ve never said it to you directly. But you are one of the smartest people I know. I happen to have one of the fastest, most complex minds in the world. The skills I have are not are not particularly usual for the average human. So sometimes it seems like I expect everyone to be like me, but I know that I'm peculiar. You might have a more normal brain in comparison, but you are highly intelligent, highly accomplished. You have skills I've never even dreamed of having… to open up a human? To cut them open and understand what you're looking at? And fix them? At that level? Fascinating,” he sighed. “I find you fascinating.” 

John was lost for words. Sherlock had certainly never said that before. “I just always thought you lumped me in with the rest of the idiots.” He blushed.

“John, I wouldn't let you live here with me if I thought you were stupid. Quite honestly. You should know better than that.” He tilted his head and gave John a look of disbelief.

“Well, thank you, that's all the Christmas present I need.” He smiled at Sherlock and his friend looked back at him.

John was always fascinated with how Sherlock’s eyes changed colour, like a mood ring. Depending on his mood, or what he wore, his eyes shifted. And right now they were the most beautiful blue, while they were looking at John. Stunning. He didn’t mean to but he licked his lips nervously, lost for words. “Looks like you’re… ah… out of dough. Why don’t you pop those trays in the oven. Set the timer for eight minutes,” he said, returning his focus to the task.

He set about getting the pudding on to boil and then began making the icing for the biscuits, as Sherlock churned out more biscuits like a professional. Those violin-skilled fingers manipulated the dough and the biscuit cutters in a beautiful choreography that John kept finding himself watching. He was always rough and clumsy when he made them.

When the timer went off, Sherlock jumped up excitedly, and grabbed the tea towels to pull out the first tray of biscuits, eager to see how his handy work had gone. When he turned there was no bench space.

“John… if you could just…”

John’s thoughts were a million miles away. Sherlock, meanwhile, had grabbed both trays - one in each hand. So his hands were full, and the heat from the trays was burning through to his fingers now. 

“John!” Sherlock said more forcefully.

John spun around in a hurry, lifting the spoon out of the bowl, which managed to flick green icing across onto Sherlock’s cheek. He snorted and then realised the situation. “Sorry,” he laughed. “Sorry. Here, let me help.” John moved to the bench and frantically shifted his recipe pages and a used bowl and put down some cork board to take the heat of the trays. “Sorry,” he said again.

Sherlock dropped both trays down, and let the tea towels drop to the floor as he shook his hands out. The heat had worked through to his fingers but not enough to burn them.

“Are you alright?” John asked.

“Yes, sorry, I should have thought about the bench space…”

“No. My fault,” John said then smiled. “Come here.”

Sherlock’s brow furrowed.

“I got… icing…” John moved to Sherlock and reached up his thumb, to wipe the icing away.

Sherlock froze at the action and watched John intently. John’s only focus seemed to be on the icing splatter, but he moved his thumb slowly, deliberately across Sherlock’s cheek, pressing ever so slightly to wipe it off. John’s eyes were suddenly captivated by the little freckles on the rise of Sherlock’s cheek, just above the icing, and the trail of colour it still left on his skin. Without meaning anything by it, without thinking, he moved his thumb to his own lips and sucked the icing away. Sherlock’s pupils dilated at the suggestive gesture, which John had apparently done unconsciously.

“Green,” John said quietly, with a smile, as he moved away, back to his stirring.

“Hmmm?” Sherlock hummed in question, words escaping him in the moment.

“You have green on your face. Finally I have my revenge,” John said with a cheeky smile.

“Oh.” Sherlock’s lips formed a circle as his brain caught up. “Oh right, yes. Ha!” He tried to settle his brain and bring himself back to his task. John hadn’t meant anything by it all. Just friendly teasing. He bent down and grabbed the towels from the floor and set about moving the biscuits silently to some cooling racks so he could place more biscuits on the trays, then get the next batch in the oven.

He turned and without thinking, he used the tea towel to flick at John’s leg. Revenge indeed.

John spun around, icing covered spoon in hand, in shock. “Oh it's like that is it?” he teased, his brow shooting up, recognising the threat of a food war.

“It could be like that,” Sherlock said, raising his brow as well, pausing to see what John would do.

They both started giggling at themselves, and Sherlock adjusted his grip on the tea towel, as if he was ready for battle. John walked closer to stand right in front of Sherlock, spoon poised, spine tall ready for the challenge. But something in Sherlock’s eyes changed when he got that close and all of a sudden the tension between them shifted. John’s smile dropped and he couldn’t take his eyes off Sherlock’s. They were trying to say something without words and John so wanted to hear what it was. He wanted to believe that the things racing around his own head might be reciprocated in his flatmate. In his friend. His best friend. His eyes searched Sherlock’s face for answers, but he wasn’t giving anything away. Sherlock’s eyes had shifted to that shade of blue again, and he was watching John just as closely, but the message wasn’t transmitting loud enough. John couldn’t read it.

Sherlock bent ever so slightly forward and John sucked in a quiet breath, suddenly feeling like Sherlock might actually kiss him. Maybe he was feeling the same, maybe this was the moment that would change everything. He didn’t move, he didn’t dare. What if he bridged the distance and Sherlock had not intended to do that. He would never survive the humiliation. He froze to the spot.

"John, there's something I..."

And then the timer startled them both. Sherlock pulled back and the tension shifted. Sherlock pushed past John and opened the oven to remove the next batch of biscuits and the whole moment was gone.

John stood staring into the void in front of him where Sherlock had been, trying to reconcile what he thought might have been happening, what had Sherlock wanted to say, and what did it all mean?

Posting early as today will be busy for me. Merry Christmas Eve to you all! Thanks for the support and comments and for following along. Hang in there! The next few will lead you to your resolution!!

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@otter-von-bismarck @silvergoldsea @calaisreno

[lost-in-fandoms]

Winter warmers day 23 version 2: small cock(erel). aka a chick. No pairings. About 1.2k words. This is very silly and partially inspired by this post.

It happens on a Sunday, luckily after the race is over. One moment Max is standing beside him, distractedly grabbing his bottle while looking at the data GP is pointing at, and the next he's gone.

GP blinks, startled and confused, as the sound of the bottle falling to the ground gets swallowed by the noise of the busy garage.

He looks around, sure that he will just find Max one step away, but Max isn't there. The mechanics are still there, as is Jonathan, hunched over his notes just two stools away. Everything looks the same it did ten seconds ago except...no Max.

GP blinks again, rubbing his eyes. He knows he's tired, it's been a long weekend at the end of a long triple header, but he is not this tired. There is no way he would just imagine Max being there, especially since the water bottle is still very much on the ground, and there is no way he would just miss Max leaving.

So the only explanation is that Max has disappeared in thin air. Which is not much of an explanation at all.

"John?" he calls, reaching over to tap Jonathan's arm. He's not sure what his face is doing at the moment, but it must be something weird, because Jonathan's expression goes from distracted and mildly annoyed to very focused immediately.

"What's happening?" he asks, reaching for the headphones around his neck as if he's expecting to have missed some information from there.

Except it's much worse, and weirder, than that.

GP opens his mouth, pauses, then closes it again. He knows there is no way to make this sound less crazy than it is, but he would love to find a way anyway.

"Have you, uh, seen Max?" he starts cautiously.

Maybe he is more tired than he thought. Maybe he did miss Max leaving, or maybe he's been speaking to himself the whole time.

Or maybe not, given how Jonathan is looking at him.

"Max? Verstappen? Who was here just a second ago?"

"Do we have other Maxs?" GP can't help to ask back, rolling his eyes a little. Okay, he is acting weird, he knows that, but there's no need to ask stupid questions.

Except, maybe there is.

"He was here, right?"

Jonathan's left eyebrow jumps towards his hairline, as he swivels around on the stool, giving GP his undivided attention.

"Are you feeling okay? Do you need medical?"

Yeah, that's fair. Maybe GP does, because this is absurd.

He sighs, dragging a hand down his face and sitting on the stool right next to Jonathan's.

"I am fine, but..." he pauses again, but it's useless to hesitate at this point. "I lost Max."

The second eyebrow joins the other high up on Jonathan's forehead.

"You lost Max," he repeats, skeptic but not dismissive. Yet.

"I know how it sounds, but he was here right next to me," GP finally explains, pointing at the very clearly empty space near them, "and then he dropped his bottle and disappeared."

Jonathan looks down at the bottle, still on the floor, then up again at GP.

"He didn't step away?"

GP is very grateful for Jonathan for many reasons, but the fact that he is actually listening and not just dragging him to medical is one of them. He doesn't think there would be many people willing to entertain this madness just because they trust GP.

He shakes his head, then points to the bottle again.

"I swear, he grabbed his bottle, and one second later he was gone. He wouldn't have had time to get to the other side of the garage."

Jonathan nods, frowning now, and then he stands up.

"We better find him, then."

And maybe they're both crazy, but it's nice to not be crazy alone.

--

It's Calum in the end who finds him.

When it's clear that Max isn't anywhere around the garage, Jonathan and GP give up and alert everyone else. They still try to keep it on the down low, because losing the current world champion isn't a great look for the team, but it's all hands on deck, spreading around the paddock trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Christian gives them an hour before he alerts the police.

Calum finds the chick when the time is running out and they're regrouping in the garage. He bends down to pick up Max's abandoned water bottle, and finds it there, right under the desk, hiding scared in a dark corner.

"Hello, buddy," he croons, trying to not scare the little chick even more. "How did you get here?"

He's expecting to have to do some serious coaxing to get the baby out of its corner, except that as soon as his hand is close enough, the chick is scrambling for it, high-pitched chirps falling from its little open beak.

Calum emerges from below the desk with a ball of agitated yellow feathers in his palm, and a puzzled expression on his face.

"Where did you find that?" someone asks, as he's trying to calm the little chick down, shushing it and brushing its ruffled feathers with one finger.

"Under the desk, right next to Max's water," he explains. As soon as he says Max's name the chick, who had started to settle, chirps again, louder and more distressed than before, pecking lightly at Calum's hand.

It takes them a while longer to understand what it means, and it's actually Jonathan who figures it out.

"Max," he calls, looking at the chick still safely in Calum's hand, a circle of team members around them.

The chick chirps, flaps its little wings.

Someone swears.

"Can you peck Calum's hand lightly if you are Max?" Jonathan asks, maintaining an impressive straight face.

The chick chirps, then pecks Calum's hand. Not very lightly.

Yeah, that's definitely Max, the little shit.

Turns out that someone had slipped a potion into Max's water. Which is a relief, because they could easily find an antidote, and very worrying, because that could have easily been something more dangerous.

As it is, Christian tells the police Max has been found, everyone agrees to be more careful with what gets handed to Max to drink, eat, or even just wear, and GP is the one who ends up with the task of keeping Max safe until the antidote is found.

"Stay," he tells Max, using his best stern voice, when he tries once again to fling himself off the desk to go wander around. GP is not too afraid he will hurt himself falling from this height, even if he's pretty sure Max can't fly, but he's so small, just a handful of feathers, and GP would probably get fired if he lost him again. Would definitely get fired if someone stepped on him.

"Don't make me put you in the cup," he threatens, pointing at an empty cup on the desk holding a few pencils, "you can still pay attention to the data, I'm pretty sure."

Max chirps at him, something surprisingly sassy for a thing so little.

A couple hours later, when Rupert comes find them with a little vial of antidote in his hand, GP is still looking at data and Max is a soft ball of yellow feathers, asleep in the cup.

[uracutieraka]

awkward

I know you hurt me, but (hey) This is more than a friendship

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

Iwaizumi Hajime x F!reader

Tw! Smut(ty-ish), mutual pining, being used (or so reader thinks)

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

synopsis ; Hajime heard rumors about you, and since you were his close friend from childhood, he obviously has to go out of his way to see if they're true.

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

it's your third year and obviously that means rumors are still being spread by any and everyone who enjoys gossip.

this time the rumor was about you.

"She's been with over 5 of the guys on the volleyball team"

"She's had 15 boyfriends from what I heard."

A bunch of bullshit really.

You had never been with anyone.

At least that's what your life long friend Hajime had thought.

But now that he's thinking, the past year you've been really strange and distant.

Disappearing and reappearing at odd hours of the night, to strange locations.

Hajime only knows this because he has your location, naturally, he's your best friend, he's got to watch out for you however he can.

At least that's how he explained why he needed your location to you anyways.

You on the other hand, had found an interest in photographing run-down and nearly abandoned parts of your home town.

Sneaking around at 2:30 in the morning made it easier to get into these odd, sleazy places.

That was until a few weeks ago when a group of boys from the school caught you walking around a risqué club chatting with a few older men who you knew from your first year when they were third years.

And that's how you ended up in this situation.

4 large men towered over you, spouting off a jumble of questions.

“How come sawaka says he saw you mingling up with some shifty old guys at a strip joint?”

The tall dark haired boy, issei, asks. His arms are crossed and hes giving you a near parental eyebrow raise.

“W-what?” You stutter out. Genuine confusion on your face.

“You heard him! Now answer!” The tone of oikawas voice almost sounds like a whine from a child more than a demand.

“Gah! You guys dont control me!” You gather up your things and stand.

“And just where do you think youre going?” Makki now opens his mouth, but you know hes just antagonizing the situation, he probably couldnt care less about whatever you got up to in your own time.

“Away! Forever!” You say dramatically, leaving the classroom to enjoy your lunch elsewhere.

That night your phone rings, around 12:30 am.

Your eyes look up from your notebook that youd been doodling in for the past 4 hours.

Answering it a gruff voice speaks out

‘Can i come over? We need to talk.’

Iwaizumi seems upset.

‘Yeah of course, ill meet you down the street.’

10 minutes role by and you make it to the little park down the street from your house, just as Iwaizumi arrives.

He looks good, he’s starting to fill out and looks more manly than ever.

“Hey…??” You say in a questioning manner. You couldnt tell how he was feeling right now and then pit in your stomach was growing ever since he said those words.

“Your parents are still out of town?” He asks making his way past you to start the walk back towards your home.

“Yeah, for another 5 days i think? Who knows.. hah..”

Smooth, jackass, real smooth.

“Ah! Thats lame, i dont know how you stay home alone all the time like that.”

The mood lightens a bit with his goofy tone coming out slightly.

Hajime had always been the more serious one out of the two of you but that was never the case when it actually came down to being just the two of you.

He always was cracking jokes and acting like a fool, just to get a smile from you.

“Yeah, me either, i just stay up in my room now, i guess.”

“Seems boring.”

“Eh.” You shrug your shoulders, unlocking your front door.

You two make your way up to your room, not before raiding the kitchen for snacks and drinks first though.

This felt normal.

Like old times.

You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you two had hungout like this.

Over the past year you had drifted away from him, only because you couldnt help yourself.

Your once innocent thoughts about the boy youd grown up with had started becoming more and more…colorful.

The way his hands looked when writing, all the years of volleyball had definitely done good things for the man.

His arms were veiny as well as his hands.

His shoulders were broad and made him looks 10 xs more masculine than he already did.

Not to mention his voice had significantly dropped and his voice cracks had almost completely disappeared.

He was becoming a man and you were becoming a woman. And women have needs.

So instead of being selfish you separated yourself from him.

“So, you wanted to talk?” You ask, shoving a handful of popcorn in your mouth, sitting crisscrossed facing him on your bed.

He shifted to sit criss cross to face you now.

“Yeah, about the stuff going around school. You know, the things people are saying about you.”

“What about it? Its not true. If thats what youre wondering.”

“I mean- i didnt think so but…” you cut him off before he can say anything else.

“But you just had to figure it out for yourself?”

You knew him too well.

You saw something in him shift, a sudden energy overtook the room, one you hadn't experienced before.

He looked at you, "Yeah. You could say something like that."

"What do you mean?"

The way he looked back up at you after you had asked that sent a warm heat through your body.

"I mean, I've seen your location, why are you running around dirty parts of the city in the middle of the night? Are you really down there...doing things?" He seemed upset for second but then became stern again.

"Things? Like what? Partying?"

"I guess."

"No.," you sigh rolling your eyes as you lift yourself off the bed, reaching for your laptop. "I've been doing photography of the nightlife and shit."

He takes the laptop from you when you offer it to him, clicking through the hundreds of photos you'd accumulated over the past year.

After a bit of silence he speaks up.

"Wow, y/n, these are," he looks up at you and gives you a huge smile. "amazing! Holy shit dude! Why didnt you tell anyone about this?”

“Because i wanted it to be my own thing that i do for myself.”

He hands you back your laptop and you close it moving to set it on your desk.

A sudden change in energy yet again settles around your room.

Hajime is looking at his hands fiddling with his thumb and index finger, youre re-situating yourself on your bed when you look back up at him.

You know third year is coming to an end, which means he’s going to California soon.

You open your mouth to speak to him.

“I got into UCLA.” You say confidently.

He now looks up at you eyes wide.

“What?” He asks, wondering if maybe he misunderstood.

“I couldnt just let you go to the US without me. That wouldnt be fair y’know!”

He lifts off his side of your bed and tackles you down in a hug.

Positioning himself to hover above you now he has a giant grin on his face.

One only youve ever seen, hes goofy, and totally a sports nerd, well mannered, and sweet. This is a side of him only youve ever gotten.

“Youre not pulling my leg are you?” He give you a near-disappointed face.

“No. Im serious.”

“Ok.,” His eyebrows furrow and he turns his head for a second, a blush spreading on his face, with a huff he looks back at you. “Im…im glad youre coming. And im glad youre not out partying and getting with other guys.” He looks more serious than before.

“Other guys?” You raise a brow at him.

His face gets even redder than before.

“Well, yeah. I just figured you knew that i liked you….”

“You just ‘figured’ that i knew that you, hajime, liked me, y/n? And how exactly would i have figured that out?”

He rolls off of you now laying next you looking at your ceiling.

You’re nervous. He likes you? The guy that you’ve spent your entire life with like you…back?

“I dont know. The guys said it was obvious so there was no way you didnt know.”

You give him a blank stare into the side of his head.

“You are the biggest idiot i have ever met.”

He now looks at you, you can see him visibly shrink in on himself.

A few moments go by and you turn your head back to look at the ceiling.

“I love you.”

He sits up turning to look at you laying down.

“I love you.”

You sit up and your guys faces are so close you can see the faint scars on his face from all the roughhousing over the years.

Hes looking at you blankly, unable to comprehend that you might actually love him.

You roll your eyes at him. Knowing exactly how hes reeling in his own head.

“Im not lying, i love you.”

He gives you a raised brow.

You huff and lean in closing the distance.

He kisses you back, his hands snaking up around you, under your tshirt.

Hajime had been with a few girls before. He had told you about it, obviously.

Honestly you shouldve been more upset at the fact he was being a total hypocrite right now.

Things had heated up, he was between your legs, caging you beneath him, you had your hands in his hair, holding his lips to yours.

He was grinding up against you, you were moaning into his mouth.

Next thing you knew he was ripping your clothes off and you were pulling his off of him.

He ran himself over your wetness and let out a groan.

Pushing himself into you, you let out a loud gasp at the sudden splitting feeling.

He kissed your jaw whispering in your ear.

“You ok?”

You moaned and rolled your hips forward a bit, to signal you wanted him to move.

He began moving back and forth, slowly at first, until you begged him to go faster.

Soon he had your leg up on his shoulder and was leaning over you, leaving kisses down your jaw and neck.

“H-haji-,” he leaned up, not slowing his pace. “M’ gonna- m’gonna”

He threw his head back pulling your hips to match the pace of his thrusting, he was going deeper and harder than before, the knots were tightening in your abdomen.

“Do it.”

With that you let go, seeing fireworks fill your vision.

“F-fuck!” He pulled out cumming on your stomach.

He got up and retrieved a washcloth from your bathroom, cleaning you up.

Getting dressed again you laid back down, him in his boxers next to you.

But he was facing your wall. You felt a ping of hurt in your chest as you crawled back into your bed, where the boy you loved had just deflowered you.

“Haji-“ you spoked but stopped when you heard a soft snore leave his mouth. A sigh left your lips as you faced the other way and closed your eyes. Youd just talk to him in the morning.

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

Morning rolled around and you found yourself in the middle of your bed. Looking around you didnt see hajime or his things. You stood out of bed and looked to your clock.

5:45 am.

You grabbed your phone, opting to call him instead of search around for him.

No answer.

You thought back to the night before and felt sick to your stomach.

Maybe you messed everything up.

These thought filled your head all the way to school.

When you arrived in the classroom you saw him sitting at his desk. Right next to yours.

You made a slow approach towards your usual seat, eyeing him like he was some sort of monster that would spot you at the slightest movement.

Sitting down you finally turned towards him.

“Hey.” You said soft enough for him to hear it.

He looked at you then turned away quick. Not answering.

You looked down at your lap, where your fingers were twirling anxiously.

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

This act kept up for 3 whole weeks. Not one word said between you two.

This was becoming a problem for your mutual friends on the volleyball team.

You had stopped coming around to practices and ignoring the other boys. It was lowering the whole teams morale.

Finally oikawa had enough and cornered you against a corner with the other 2 boys.

“What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On.”

It wasnt a question. It was a demand.

“Nun ya.” You said crossing your arms and rolling your eyes.

Maki smacked the wall next to your head leaning down to make eye contact with you.

“Tell us now.” He was dead serious.

“Fine.,” you huffed looking away from them. “Hajimeandihadsex3weeksagoandheleftinthemiddleofthenightandhasbeenignoringmeeversince.”

“Woah-woah- you and haijime WHAT?!” Now mattsun spoke up shaking his head in disbelief.

“We had sex. And then he rolled over in my bed and went to sleep. And now hes ignoring me. And hasnt talked to me in 3 whole weeks.” You were looking at your shoes, tears had finally built up in your eyes.

Oikawa put his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” it was soft spoken, unusual from his normal behavior. “Hes a dick for that. You didnt deserve that.” He patted your back and motioned for the other two boys to follow him.

They made their way to Hajimes classroom telling him to come with them for an impromptu club meeting. He followed unknowingly.

They found themselves in the club room.

Hajime in a familiar position that you had been in by the same boys just a bit prior.

Oikawa, Maki, and Mattsuwaka had evil and dangerous looks on their faces. Hajime was scared.

Mattun spoke. “Whats your problem?”

Then oikawa through gritted teeth. “Youve got some explaining to do.”

And finally Maki, “How is it you bag the hottie whos our number one supporter and somehow you manage to fumble her?” Hes popping his knuckles in a threatening manner.

Iwaizumi gave a few dumbfounded blinks then spoke up.

“I uh-,” he was cut off by the three boys leaning over him more than they were before, closing out any light from the corner he was in. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “I came really quick. And uh. Im embarrassed to talk to her.”

The three boys all exchanged glances before leaning back up.

Hajime leaned all the way back up as well.

Maki reached out and landed a hard punch to the cornered boys stomach.

“You fucking idiot!”

Oikawa now spoke, “you know, y/n thinks that you hate her? She was crying over it earlier!”

Mattsun pushed hajime towards the door.

“You better go fix this. Fucking dumbass.”

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

It was 8:30 pm.

Hajime knocked on your door, hoping your parents were off somewhere for work.

You answered the door.

Hajime took you in.

You had on a too large Tshirt he knew to be oikawas, one you had stolen a year prior, during a group sleepover at mattsuns.

Hajime remembered you had been baking cookies in the kitchen with the tall setter when he caked you in flour and eggs. In exchange he offered up his sleep shirt, feeling bad afterwards about the mess he made.

Looking down a pair of his own boxers sat on your hips. Folded down a few times so theyd fit you.

They mustve gotten mixed in your laundry at some point. Who knows.

“Haji! Hi!” You gave him a wide-eyed stare. Caught off guard by his sudden presence after weeks of missing him.

He looked at you then down at his feet, kicking a small rock he shoved his hands in his pockets, looking back up to you he spoke.

“Im really fucking sorry y/n.”

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

You had only seen him like this twice in your entire life.

Once when he and oikawa broke your brand new guitar that you spent a whole summer babysitting and doing odd jobs to save money for.

Hes still doing chores for his mom to this day to pay off the debt of buying you a new one.

The second time was 2 summers ago when you and the other volleyball team members went camping for a summer bonding trip.

Oikawa and hajime were sitting next to you rough housing when the black haired boys elbow flew back and hit you square in the nose.

A quick *crack* sounded on impact.

He slowly turned his head to look at you, blood rushing down your face from your nose, your nose was already purple and crooked to one side.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, holyshit. Holyshitholyshit.” You panicked.

The other team members gathered around you, unsure what to do.

“We… we need to go to the hospital.” Hajime spoke up.

“You fucking broke my nose!” You were crying, trying not to touch your nose.

“Oh fuck!” Oikawa now said bring everyone back to earth.

With a rush you were in a coaches car with haijme holding you stroking your hair.

“Im sorry” was all he said to you for the 30 minute drive.

He never lived that down. But you werent too mad.

You got a free nose job and hes still paying off his debt for breaking your nose.

✭・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭

“Wha-“ you were cut off by him speaking again.

“I really really fucked up y/n. And im so sorry. I love you and i was embarrassed and didnt know what to do.”

“Not ignore me, maybe?” You huffed now annoyed.

“I know. Im sorry.,” he looked around then straight abck at you, now straightening his posture. “I love you too.”

You blinked a few times then began shutting the door.

He stopped you with his foot.

“Wait!”

You groaned loudly then reopened it.

“What? You really hurt my feelings and now you just want me to be like ‘oh ok, cool youre embarrassed you fucked me’ and move on?”

“No! I- i want to explain myself.”

You leaned against the door and rolled your eyes. “Fine.”

“I uh, i camereallyfastandthiughtyoudhatemeandbeembarrassediwasyourfirsttime.”

You now stood completely infront of him.

Your eyes yet again wide in surprise.

“So you ignored me because you came quick?”

He was now giving you the same dumb look you had just given him.

“Yeah.” It was quiet. Like a scolded child.

“So what? I came too, i dont know how all this sex stuff works exactly but i think were even.” You now had an eyebrow quirked up at him.

“Oh…”

“Yeah ‘oh’ you ignored me for 3 weeks because you came quick or whatever you just said.”

He now looked extremely embarrassed.

“How are you going to make it up to me?” You asked.

“Uhm,” he stood there thinking for a second. “How about a date? Tomorrow? 7pm? Wear something nice?”

You felt a smile grow on your face.

“Sounds good.”

“See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

[lostintransist]

Death is Not Always Kind | Part 3

Part 1 here.

CW: Asking for death, implied threats, men (derogatory)

AO3 | Death Masterlist

They have gone. Leaving you alone with instructions that food will be delivered to the door and to not wander. K left you an empty notebook and a series of pens. N nodded once to his bed and shut the door behind him. They shut you in this new cage but left the door unlocked.

You take your days; lining the empty pages with lines a hint of a breath between them as you fill one side diagonal and then the other horizontally. Six pages front and back filled with nothing but lines, a prison for the ink you have wasted. The pounding at the door becomes near constant. You have ignored the food. They are not here to force you.

The words begin to crawl out of you, filling the larger spaces you leave between your lines. You think yourself a dragon, breathing out poison and setting the world ablaze with the hate in your soul. You would say the fires of hell but you have found hell is cold, sterile, white and leached of color.

Exhaustion steals you into sleep more often as your weary body cries for nutrients again. On the fourth day someone opens the door. This man is large. Tall, not as tall as K, but broader by half. A dark hood with bleached weeping eyes stare at you.

“Come.”

He turns and walks from the room. Something about the command pulls you forward. This is a man that will end you. No morals, twisted even as they sat in N and K, would prevent him from granting you release.

He walks silently, massive boots landing without even a puff of air as he displaces the atoms that live between his foot and his next step. You cannot match his silence despite the slight existence of your body. The slap of your feet against the cool laminate follows you as you follow him.

Men drift to one side as they move too and fro, all with some unknown destination. They nod and murmur a quick colonel, eyes categorizing you as not a threat before they pass. Some eyes linger though, the lascivious thoughts clear. Boys, failed by society, found release only in the stolen space within bodies that could not be human. For if they were human, if they were real, men would have to grapple with the baseless violence that marked them as beasts and not as men in fact.

The doors change. Where once the spread out openings were closed tight with solid pieces now windows peaked out at you between the walls and built into the doors. At a door like all the others the man stopped, and you behind him.

A key appeared from a pocket and disappeared into the same after its job had been completed. He opens the door for you, this colonel pulls his second power move by gesturing that you enter first. Stepping through you flick your eyes across the wall of filing cabinets, all shut tight. His desk is neat to a fault. You reach out and touch a pen laid neatly at the end of his matte black desk mat.

No nameplate sits on his desk to identify who he is. The colonel stares at the askew pen before lifting his eyes to you.

“Why do they keep you?” His voice does not rumble as you expect for one of such size. You had expected the growl of a bear but found the voice of a mild-mannered shark instead.

“They won’t kill me,” you reach forward and tap the pen again. It slides but does not roll as the clip lays in the way.

“Why?”

If you knew that you would be freed of this electrified meat suit. Instead, you reach forward and tap the pen again.

His hand shoots out, holding your wrist tight, nearly to the point of pain. Looking up you stare into beautiful blue eyes that should not belong to the reaper.

“Will you kill me?”

“Can you only speak of your demise?” He muses aloud before letting your wrist go and leaning back in his chair. It squeaks against his weight. “No. Krueger and Nikto are some of my best. If I take you away who knows what they will drag home next.”

Wish that you were a witch to drown in your sorrows. Before thinking better of it you skirt the large desk, using all your might to spin the chair so you can settle on your knees between his thighs. You stare up at him, mournful, as your cheek rests so close to his groin that you can smell the sweat of the day collected in his creases.

“Please,” tears you have not shed in years start, “Please kill me.”

He stares down at you, dead eyes unwilling to bend to your request.

“What does death hold that you cannot?”

“Peace,” you sob into the seam of his pants.

Hands pull you upward until you are nestled nose into his hood and arms around his neck. That is how K and N find you hours later. The colonel had worked around you, firing off emails and answering men as they entered his office. He had shared food with you too. Bits of his meal from his own fork pressed to your lips with the expectation of bending to his will. You do. Thinking later you decide it must be the gentleness of his touch, those killing hands holding you gently, that pulls you back ever so slightly from the edge that you crept toward.

K busts through the door, ignoring the unspoken demand to knock and wait.

“König you have something of ours.”

The heat of his gaze sweeps over you, displeasure tasting the air.

N steps through before shutting the door tight.

“I grew up hunting rabbits for my Nonna,” König, as they called him, rests a hand on your back. “We did not keep them as pets, locked in cages.”

They stiffen, catching the message that is beyond you.

“Send her in the morning. Rabbits must have a purpose or they need to feed the pot.”

N surprises you by snarling at his commander.

“She will not play whore for you König.”

König’s fingers tighten on your ribs.

“I have need of a secretary, you have a rabbit in need of watching. You will share or I will grant her request.” All signs of civility disappeared from his voice. Despite your cries for death you shivered.

K and N do not need to share a look to reach a congress. N blinks and K nods.

“Up kaninchen, they will wish to ensure you are well,” he flexes his thigh beneath you.

You stand slowly, already missing the warmth of his body that had seeped into your bones.

“Bring her dressed next time,” he says to them by way of dismissal.

Looking down at your too-large shirt and tightened sweats you frown. You suppose toes should not be out if you are to work in the colonel’s office. Did you want to work in his office? Did you have a choice?

Following your keepers back to your room you let them prod at you and answer their questions. No, he did not hurt you, no he did not touch your body in a way you did not agree to, yes you ate today. When you are delivered to the showers you clean your body perfunctorily, pausing only once to notice that your breasts have started to return. When you return to the room you share with N, K at your side, you find the mattress empty. N has settled himself across the cot you used, light breathing the only indication of life.

“I don’t want it,” you snap at both of them.

“It is our failure that has brought the colonel’s attention to you, the least we can do is upgrade your resting hours,” K pushes you toward the bed. His hand is firm, but not unkind. “Morning comes early.”

You lay down, glaring across the room at N as S kills the lights and leaves you to your nightmares.

Likes are amazing! Reblogs are better (that lets your followers see what you like.)

Part 2 | Part 4

Death Masterlist | Masterlist

@meinemauschen

[tastesousweet]

⭒ blurb : fwb!hamzah forces grumpy!reader out of the house for their last night together before winter break

fwb!hamzah x grumpy reader

summary: short lil blurb ab friends w benefits hamzah & grumpy!reader before, during, & after going out!

warnings: fluffy, college/uni hamzah (♥︎-♥︎), vaping, fwb, smutty lala

a/n: hiii ppl have asked for more fwb hamzah so i thought i'd give u another taste for the holidays (& if u don’t celebrate here’s some non-holiday spoiling)!!! also im well aware hamzah has said he no longer smokes but once again this is a character so irdgaf bc this is not real life <3

the week before christmas is the final week of the semester; which also means that friday night after exams are studied for and completed, the entire campus would be out bar hopping before settling onto squished economy flights or boring, hungover car rides home for the holidays.

hamzah triple-checked with you to make sure you'd still be accompanying him out tonight rather than fucking off to hide in your tiny apartment, using some excuse like your brain being too tired and worn out to party (he'd argue with his voice cracking in humor, "party?! chillin' at the tav' with a few drinks is no party, girl").

though he's starting to find your bed rather comfy and after a heated make out session he's not quite ready to stand up straight; as you dress and redress in front of your mirror, asking him "this fits me weird, right?"

for him to reply, "mm no?" he sits up and his eyes widen a bit at the sheerness of the top, "not at all actually, it looks great. i like the way it, uhhh..." he's playing with his flimsy bottom lip awkwardly, trying hard to refrain from saying anything about your soft nipples but they're on display and he can't help his thoughts that continue to squeeze at his brain with how sexy you look.

you take his lack of substance as rejection and sigh with an irritated groan, "fuck! it looks so bad!" you slip the thin fabric over you head quickly and throw it onto the bed next to hamzah's head of hair, "i knew it wasn't just me! that top is horrid." you grumble and wander back into your closet, topless.

"i did not say any of that! you jus' wanted an excuse to take it off." he sighs, struggling as he reaches under himself for the light vape hidden in his back pocket. he inhales and exhales the juicy peach clouds above him while eyeing your familiar tapestry-covered ceiling.

"i did not," your voice is faint as you cover yourself with a tee that ends up falling just below your hips. "that pink vape still makes you look gay," you giggle to yourself as you shove a few things from your floor back into your once-organized closet.

"hey! can't say shit like that, don't you know it's the twenty-twenties, you fuckin' oldie?" he pinches his eyebrows and blows smoke sleazily out from the side of his mouth.

you crawl onto him, settling yourself on top of his abdomen, "wasn't an insult you fuckin' prude," you raise your eyebrows and take the boxy vape into your own hand, raising it to your mouth.

"ohhh...now 'm the prude but you can't wear that skimpy outfit you just had on without throwin' a fit. right, okay..." he sarcastically quips while looking up at you.

you place a finger to hamzah's puffed lips as you tilt your head up and blow plumes into the air. you look down at him again and lick over your lips, "hey," you lean down closer to him, interlocking your hands, "what if we just stay in? it's so cold out and nothing's fittin' me well. plus, we won't see each other for four weeks..." you attempt to smoothly pull him in with your soft alluring tone but as your best friend he knows your tricks well enough by now.

“hmmm what if we just stay in?” he repeats in barely a whisper, taking another hit of the juicy peach vape before locking your hands together and giving it back to you. "it’s true- that's a lot of days apart..." smoke pours from his mouth and nose as he speaks; playing into your games just as he plays with your manicured hands that lie each side of his face.

"yep." you lean closer, nudging your nose slightly against his and revealing a smile that is rare for most but fairly common when you're around hamzah.

"yeah?" he breathes, "but what about our deal? you know, the one where you promised you'd come out with me tonight?"

"hamzahhhh," you whine and lift yourself up, untangling your hands from his- but maintaining your weight on his lower tummy- which he's growing obsessed with.

he laughs at your expense and reaches to grab one of your hands, "c'mon go put somethin' on so we can get outta here," he brings your wrist up to his mouth, letting his teeth playfully bite at the skin before you're loosely tugging it away and shoving his vape back into his chest.

you mumble, "fuck promises," while heading back into your closet.

༉‧₊˚.

“hamzah! what’s up, mothafucka?!” aaron yells out, catching you two walk into the tavern, decorated in ornament-covered garland and twinkling christmas lights along with its various neon beer signs hung about.

“hey man, what’s up?!” his hand leaves his pocket to give aaron a hug.

“i’m good, im good,” aaron then acknowledges you after pulling away from hamzah, “hey, how’ve you been? that stat’ final was fuckin’ bizarre huh?” he smiles into his sip of the tall heineken bottle gripped in his hand.

“yeah, it was kinda tough,” you attempt to agree even though you’d studied for an annoying amount of time for that exam so if you found any of it difficult you would’ve been more pissed at yourself than the exam itself.

he nods, “about shit myself when i saw the first few questions…” he laughs then clears his throat, “well, uh, we’re just about to start a game of darts so you guys came at the perfect time!”

༉‧₊˚.

you and hamzah genuinely are not jealous people.

you couldn’t care less about some sort of jealous nagging when he’s got girls coming up and flirting with him as you both share a drink and fries while waiting for your turns in darts, actually you think it’s funny. you like to watch and see how hamzah handles himself in games of flirting- he’s an awkward yet charming flirt and most girls only fall more the less smooth his delivery gets.

there’s nothing to be jealous of- you guess the only thing truly in danger is your spot as his best friend. if hamzah were to get a girlfriend it would only be right that you’d come second to her (at least you’d hope so, for her sake at least). but there’s no fear of that happening anytime soon anyway, you both have severe issues with committing to the idea of holding someone else’s emotions so tightly that they become apart of you without you even realizing. it’s fucking scary. plus, you both love being teases too much to ever give that up any time soon.

after losing in darts to a few of hamzah’s friends for the second time you let him be wandered over to buy drinks for a few girls who were eyeing him up (they even asked you if they could “borrow him” which grossed you out and then it pissed you off when they decided to wink at you- you almost wanted to just scream “oh my god just take him already! please go away!”).

and while he’s been leaning against the bar with googley eyes, you were dragged out to the side of the building with aaron’s on and off again girlfriend, vanessa, and a few of her girlfriends. you made sure to swiftly sneak hamzah’s vape from his pocket before heading out, needing something to keep you occupied while attempting your interact with girls you just barely know.

“he was a fucking tramp, i’ll tell you that!” ashanti exclaims, throwing her hands about and making the small group laugh through the clouds of white smoke (some from the dryness of the cold air and some from the different flavored nicotine puffs) mixed in the air. outside of the safe, warm lighting of the tavern, there’s a brisk and calming mildness. the wind pinches at any skin that dares to peek and there’s muffled up noises and voices heard from the various bars and homes along the busy road, leaving the abundantly sweet, echoey cackles of the group tucked away into the alley next to the brick building to coat the lonely midnight sidewalk.

katrina speaks up with a shake of her head, “men can do the nastiest shit, but let it be known i’m not looking for something serious and all of a sudden i’m the slut?” she points to herself before rubbing her lips together.

you nod your head, holding the thick burrows of your maroon scarf (that purposefully matches your lip shade perfectly) while you speak, “mind you his homeboy’s were just bragging about fucking girls back to back without a care.”

they giggle around you, adding “exactly”s as you take in another puff with a smile.

“it’s gross!” vanessa enthuses.

“what is, huh?” aaron smoothly comes behind her and plants a kiss on her patchy, cold cheek.

“oh, nothin’” she giggles and shrugs at the weight he’s added to her shoulders.

you roll your eyes playfully at the couple, glancing to the side and catching the surprise of hamzah approaching you; his baseball cap still slouched on his head (leaving his lively curls to peek out for a sad breath of air) and dark puffer jacket casually covering his figure, “you stole from me?” he asks under his breath with a smile as he leans on the brick wall beside you, naturally opening his palm to invite the exchange.

“yeah,” you admit, placing the vape in his palm.

he lets his fingers run over your hand for a second longer when he retrieves it from you, looking down then back up to you. “it’s dark as hell out here, who thought the alley was a good spot for a group of hot girls to hang?” he looks around, noticing the only true lighting coming through the slim windows of the tavern.

“feel like we could beat up any scary ugly man who would even dare to start shit,” you reply and turn to face him.

“you’re right. you’d probably kill his ass with your words alone,” he giggles to himself, “but you’d still save a punch for me, right?”

“right, right. obviously.” you shrug and half smile.

“obviously…” he smiles.

you both look around for a second, listening in on other people’s conversations and looking to each other when something wild is brought up. eventually, at the same moment you both sigh and whisper so only the other could hear:

“can you walk me home?”

“can we go back to yours?”

༉‧₊˚.

hamzah thinks watching you undress is hotter than sex itself.

seeing you strip down in front of him while he lays on his bent forearms, anticipating and knowing at any moment you’ll pounce on him and give into all of his desires. it’s fucking hot.

when you’ve got nothing but your lacy panties on, you finally crawl onto him, allowing him to completely lean back and collapse as you guide his head to meet your own, mouths wet and sloppy against each other. his hands lie surrendered and lazily thrown next to his head as you move to deliver kisses and licks to the stretch of his neck, he hums in amusement as always, grateful for your touch.

he lets a whisper of “c’mere,” slip and you’re immediately back at his mouth letting him kiss you deeper, holing onto your face and biting at your plump bottom lip every so often as you allow your body to grind against the sleek belt buckle you placed your clothed cunt against.

he lets one hand drop from your face, letting his arm scoop around your hips as he aids you in humping at his belt. he forces your hips to bring harder and quicker, while refusing to end his kissing, even with your head turned due to your need to breathe, he’s managed to continue kissing at your jaw and neck. you moan softly with every clank the metal buckle makes against itself as your clit gets off on the thick gold.

you draw out a moan of “fuckkk” as you begin to move yourself harsher against him, chasing an orgasm that you can just barely taste. you’re hungry for it and he knows it, but hamzah just loves the face you make when you finally cum after multiple denials— so, he lifts you with the arm that once guided you, lying you on your back as he moves to rid of his hoodie.

you whine, “h! please come back, this is fucked up. we’re gonna be gone for weeks, just let me-” you move your hand down into your underwear to find some satisfaction.

“hey, i said i’ll give you anythin’ you want in those four weeks, promise.” he assures you, now shirtless and leaning over your figure, “let me see,” he brings your hand away from playing with yourself and up to his mouth, placing the few fingers in his mouth with a small hum.

you roll your eyes back and want nothing more than to have any part of him inside you right this second, “please.”

he smiles slightly as he removes your fingers from his mouth and kisses your inner wrist, lowering your hand to his belt which you immediately attempt to unbuckle as he kisses you with a hand wrapped gently around your neck.

you flimsy fumble around with the metal before slinking a second hand down to effectively remove the belt and begin to unbutton his pants as much as you possibly could.

eventually you break the kiss to focus on freeing his dick and giving yourself some sort of release, “let me help you,” his voice is tender and out of breath as he drops his jeans and boxers, giving you better access.

he takes your hand and dribbles spit into the palm before you take it upon yourself to wrap it around him, stroking while biting at your bottom lip, watching as he lowly groans and fondles your tits concurrently.

you work him slowly but eventually quicken the pace with the more frustrated you grow— you can’t help it, you need him inside of you now. “hamzah,” you faintly whine.

he knows how badly you want it. so he brings your hands away from his length, placing them on his warm chest and along his shoulders as he aligns himself for you, letting your cunt take him in slowly.

you immediately moan out into the air above you and he shushes you, telling you “you’re amazing” and “so fucking sexy” between his kisses to you. each ridge and muscle of your walls pulls him tighter with each thrust, your slickness dripping sparingly down your warm thighs and onto his own.

your breath hasn’t caught itself yet when he brings your legs up to your chest, holding you in place with his large arms as he continues with the deeper angle. the both of your moans are harmonic and raw together, something beautiful and heated. you claw at the sides of his arms and have your eyes pinched as you take him, soaking him in the comfort of your warmth.

once he feels his orgasm has built he harshly thumbs over your slick clit making you choke on your own, drawn out groans. he’s encouraging and nothing but satisfactory when you eventually cling to him and whine out that you’re right there while humping his hand without any care.

and once you both come down from the absolute mess of your orgasms hamzah coerce’s you to let him lie with you under the covers, with his resting against your chest. unsurprisingly he’s first to fall asleep, after requesting you put on his favorite show. but you’re too tired yourself to say anything more than “okay” or “i’m gonna go pee real quick” which works just fine for the two of you.