#hope you enjoyed your holidays 💗💗
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Pinch hitting for the ajin secret Santa event. hope you like it never_artist 💖
#ajin#Takeshi kotobuki#my art#i love takeshi sm 😭💖#a late submission#hope you enjoyed your holidays 💗💗#ajinss22
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𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 - 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬
summary: in which you spend tow beautiful christmas morning with jack and luke warnings: not proofread, couple of swear words pairing: luke hughes x zegras!reader (lemon au) wc: 2.1k a/n: happy holidays to all of you, hope you enjoy yourselves💗
- December 25, 2023 -
"morning, j."
"hi." the boy mumbled back as he sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island, hand reaching for the cup of coffee you sat in front of him.
"i see your excited." you joked, making the boy send you a death glare. he was about to say something when Luke walked back in from the bathroom.
"morning, rowdy." he said, ruffling his brother's hair as he walked over to you and grabbed the coffee you had just finished making him. all he got in response from jack was a groan as he started adjusting his hair.
"gross." he then added once he saw the two of you engaged in a soft kiss. "don't make me ship you back to your brother, y/n/n."
"you're so funny, jack." you told him, faking a small laugh. finally, the older boy finally smiled this morning, making you roll your eyes with a smile on your face as well.
"can we just get this over with so i can go back to sleep." jack said as he stood up from the stool and made his way over to the living room, where a rather questionably decorated christmas tree sat, a handful of gifts under.
"he's in a joyful mood this morning." luke mumbled before pressing a kiss to your temple and joining his brother on the couch, you following closely behind. Instead of joining the boys on the couch, you went straight for the tree and picked up the gift you had wrapped from jack, handing it to him with a soft smile.
"start us off, big boy." you laughed before taking a place between the two boys, luke throwing one of his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close to him. Your gift was something very small, just a puck with a picture of the three brothers taken before their first game all three together, and on the other side was your favourite picture of jack falling on the ice midair.
jack's tongue poked out of his lips lightly as he struggled to open the wrapped box. f there was one thing you were gonna do, it was make the process of opening gifts as complicated as you could. ou had always done it to your brothers, and recently to your sister as well, always giggling as you watched them struggle.
"y/n/n, i swear-"
"you're almost there!" you cheered as luke chuckled next to you, somehow pulling you even closer. finally, the older boy was able to get to the box, pulling out the puck as a smile quickly took over his face instead of the frown that had been present since he had walked into the kitchen.
"y/n/n... this is surprisingly sweet of- oh my god, of course!" the boy started, but cut himself off as he flipped the puck over, seeing the other picture of him, which sent you into a fit of giggle at his reaction. luke was quick to take a peak at the puck, laughing along with you. "y/n!"
"it was just too hard to resist, j. but, hey, i could've used a way worse picture for the front." you said with a teasing smile. jack rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the smile that formed on his face. he wrapped his arms around you, bring you into a hug as he kept admiring the puck in his hand.
it still felt surreal to him that all three of them had made it this far, feeling like just yesterday their mother was teaching them how to skate on an outdoor rink in toronto. and here they all were, luke and jack in new jersey, while quinn was captain of the canucks across the continent. all of them so far away from each other and their parents, but all connected by their shared love for each other and the sport.
"thank you, really."
"your welcomed, jacky." you answered with a smile as luke pulled you out of his brother's grip, and back into his arm. jack scoffed at the move, but his smile still present as he got up and grabbed the gift he had for luke.
the three of you then engaged in a two hour long exchange of gifts between yourselves. the puck was the only real gift you had gotten jack, the other five being gags that always sent you and your boyfriend into a fit of giggle. it was hard to shop for someone who could already buy whatever they wanted.
but it was safe to say that luke had gone all out on you, buying you almost everything you had mentioned either being cute, or simply just saying you wanted it, in the last couple of months. of course, you pressed a passionate kiss to his lips, to which jack always answered with a gag. as for yourself, you had gotten luke a couple items that he had mentioned over the time of your relationship, but that he had never gotten himself because he didn't feel the need to. but there as one gift that you had opted to keep tucked away in the drawer luke had given you in his dresser, deciding that was not something jack needed to see.
later that evening, you found yourself cuddled on the couch with luke, while jack was currently in the bathroom, the movie paused. you were wearing one of trevors usa hockey sweatpants that you had claimed as your years ago, and one of luke's devils hoodie.
"i'm really happy your here, babe." luke whispered, making you lift your head from his chest and look up at him with a smile.
"'m happy to be here, lu." you mumbled, playing with the strings of his hoodie. you hadn't seen each other since thanksgiving weekend, where you had decided to come visit him in new jersey. of course, you two had face time every day, maybe missing two or three days where either of you were just too busy, tired, or your schedules just didn't lineup. either way, you had talked at least once every day since he left michigan in september.
"i've really missed you."
"i missed you, too, lemon." you smiled before leaning all the way up to met his lips. the two of you soon found yourselves in a passionate make out sessions, tongues dancing together as luke pulled you as close as he possibly could, his hands all over your body.
"you have a room for a reason, luke." jack groaned as he threw himself down on the couch, making the two of you pull apart. you smiled shyly as you hid yourself in luke's hold, no one saying anything else as jack pressed play on the remote.
a couple of hours later, you and luke were laying in his bed half asleep, your face snuggled in his naked chest as you listened to his heart beat. one of his hands was on your head, playing softly with your hair.
"you liked your gifts?"
"mm-hm. loved them." you mumbled, shifting slightly as you tried to shoved yourself closer to him, your chest pressed against his. "but, you know, i don't need all that stuff, babe."
"i know, but i promise your brothers i'd take care of you, and treat you like you deserve. and you deserve this, baby." he explained softly, his eyes slowly closing.
"and i appreciate it, luke, i really do. but i truly do not need all these things. i got you, and that's enough for me."
"you better tell that to your brothers if i ever get an angry visit from them." he joked, making the two of you chuckle before slowly falling asleep in each others arms.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
- December 25, 2024 -
"alright lovebirds, i'm not going through what i went last year again." jack said strictly has he sat down on the couch next to you, setting his cup of hot chocolate down on the coffee table. "kiss each other all you want, but keep your tongues in your own mouths. or go in your room if you really need to get all freak with each other." he continued, making luke roll his eyes at his brother's attitude.
this year was a little different though, with trevor being injured, he had decided to come back home during his small little break, and after jack begged him to come over this morning, you guys were now four on the couch.
"or maybe just don't." trevor added, siding with his best friend. trevor almost flew out of his seat as he looked over at the two of you, only to see both of you rolling your eyes.
"whatever, let's jus get started."
as you started exchanging gifts between yourselves, it only then that the two hughes brother realized how similar you and trevor were, both opting for gag gifts, laughing hysterically each time someone opened their gifts.
"two gifts only, luke?" your brother asked as jack finished opening the last gift that was under the tree, his eyes staring into luke's. your boyfriend was quick to look over at you with wide eyes, making you place a hand on trevor's shoulder.
"trev, it's fine, i asked him not to." you said softly, making trevor's eyes go wide.
"why?"
"'cause i don't need anything else, i've already got everything i want." you explained.
"that's corny." jack chuckled, making luke roll his eyes a bit.
"i mean it though, i don't need a hundred pair of pants, or twenty curling irons." you said, looking more at your brother than your boyfriend. since trevor had sign his first contract, he had made a couple of unnecessary spendings for you, which you were truly thankful for, but you would rather him keep his money than buy you all the stanley cups he could find.
"whatever. i'm gonna go to the bathroom." trevor sassed, standing up and making his way to the bathroom.
"i'm gonna go get water, you guys want anything?" jack then said, standing up as well, but waiting for your answers before leaving.
"i'm okay, thank you." you declined with a smile while luke just shook his head.
"told you he'd hate me." luke was quick to mumbled once jack was gone.
"and i told you, i don't care what he thinks. i know this is gonna sound cringy or whatever, but i have you, lu, and that's good enough for me. just being with you is better than any gifts you could ever give me."
"very corny." luke smiled, looking down at you before attaching your lips together. you let out a soft giggle as luke's hand slipped into your shirt, his fingers gently touching your waist.
"one rule! we give you guys one simple rules, and you can't even follow it?" jack exclaimed as he walked back into the living room, making the two of you pull apart from each other. at the same time, trevor walked out of the bathroom, his eyebrows raised at his best friend's words.
"jack, grow up."
"actually, that's reminding me, trev and i have one last gift for you guys." the middle hughes sibling said before he and trevor disappeared into his room. they came out about a minute later, during which you and luke had exchanged as many kisses as you could, holding a large box. you could tell trevor had wrapped it just from the looks of it.
"open it." trevor said as he placed the box on your lap. you shared a questionable look with luke before unwrapping the box and opening it, only to be met with the sight of 6 boxes of condoms looking back at you. your jaw dropped right away, sending a glare to your brother, while luke threw his head back with a groan.
"trevor!"
"i'm too young to be an uncle, y/n. and by the way you guys are acting with each other in front of us, i don't even want to begin to imagine what you do all alone." he said sternly, both his hands resting on hips like a dad giving his kid a lecture.
"we're not stupid, you know." luke said, closing the box and putting it on the ground. "but thank you for saving me some money, appreciate it." he added with a smile, making your brother gagged while jack slightly hit him on the back of the head.
the rest of the day was filled with chaos, from luke and jack arguing about who's turn it was to do the dishes, figuring out what to eat, trevor and luke getting into a play fight in the middle of one of the movies as your brother saw luke's hand slipped a little too low for his liking. as well as finishing the night with two facetime calls between your families, your parents having the longest discussion about time flying by so quickly until you all told them to just call separately and hanging up the phones.
it was by far the most action-packed christmas you had ever experienced, but you wouldn't of had traded it for the world.
#bri writes#luke hughes#luke hughes blurb#luke hughes fic#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes imagine#lemon au#trevor zegras#jack hughes
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happy december my pookies ! to start off this holiday season , i've compiled a list of romantic otp tags inspired by quotes from bianca sparacino's books that i'll be sharing with you today .
below the cut there are 50+ tags for you to choose from , all categorized under different tropes [ e.g. friends to lovers , unrequited lovers , etc . ] feel free to use them as inspiration & edit them to fit your own ships . a like & reblog would be greatly appreciated ! enjoy the list ♡
💗 GENERAL SHIP . ⇢ in a world of billions, i found you ⇢ dive into my soul ⇢ love was always meant to be soft & tender ⇢ you don't forget people who made you believe in something rare ⇢ you chose me as confidently as i chose you ⇢ my safe place & biggest adventure ⇢ you make my soul feel at home ⇢ you inspired me to complete myself ⇢ it's okay to be who you are with me ⇢ no person is sent to you by accident ⇢ attraction is flesh & connection
💗 PAST RELATIONSHIP / ENEMIES TO LOVERS . ⇢ i lost myself loving you for years ⇢ someone else is going to fall in love with your light ⇢ i hope you find the love you deserve ⇢ even beautiful things end ⇢ can i do anything to fix us ? ⇢ we walked away from something soft & hauntingly real ⇢ you hurt & turned me into someone i'm not ⇢ you left me better than when you found me ⇢ i forgave you & i forgave myself ⇢ i'll find a way back into your tenderness ⇢ i hid all the unlovable parts of myself for you ⇢ maybe the happy ending is moving on ⇢ you made me beg for your heart ⇢ you're a wound that never closed ⇢ a beauty i touched is a stranger to me now ⇢ learning how to forgive the past ⇢ maybe my journey now isn't about love ⇢ i was asking love from the wrong person
💗 UNREQUITED / FORBIDDEN LOVE . ⇢ i'd risk everything for love ⇢ i can't love you into being ready ⇢ almost happy . almost valued . almost chosen ⇢ i was lucky enough to love you ⇢ leaving is an act of love , too ⇢ sometimes , hearts don't align ⇢ the timing is not wrong ; the love is wrong ⇢ love will not save you ⇢ maybe in another lifetime ⇢ my heart is tender & worn out ⇢ grief is the most honest reflection of love ⇢ i exist in this world without you now ⇢ you only loved the idea of me
💗 FRIENDS TO LOVERS . ⇢ be soft & gentle with my heart ⇢ i opened my heart for you ⇢ it's okay to be who you are with me ⇢ i saw my entire soul in you ⇢ you make my stomach buzz with an electric kind of happiness ⇢ we got lucky enough to exist at the same time ⇢ i saw cemeteries within me yet you saw gardens ⇢ we're the lucky ones who beat the odds ⇢ you saw me & you stayed ⇢ you introduced me to a softer version of your heart
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My Home
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: After a mission Bucky and you have to stay at a hotel for the night. But when you wake up the next day you're snowed in and maybe can't make it home in time for Christmas.
Word Count: 850
Prompts: snowed in + “Home is not a place, at least not for me. You’re my home.”
From @buck-star Fluffy Winter Event
A/N: I wish all of you a Merry Christmas and happy holidays! I hope you like this 💗 🎄
Divider made by @ buck-star
Fluffy Winter Masterlist | Main Masterlist
It was late at night when you and Bucky were trying to find a hotel. You finished your mission a few hours ago and then went back to the safe house to pick up your stuff and were now walking through the streets of Budapest. As you walked through the streets, holding Bucky’s hand in one hand and your bag in the other, looking at the beautiful Christmas decorations and lights, you began to shiver. Bucky noticed and let go of your hand to take off his jacket. Then he smiled at you before he said.
“Here, take my jacket, doll. I don’t want you to get sick.”
“But then you will be cold.” You said and he shook his head.
“You’re more important.” You wanted to protest, but you knew that Bucky would give you his jacket anyway because he didn’t want you to be cold. So, you let him help you put his jacket on and then kissed your cheek softly.
“Thank you.” You whispered and he smiled at you.
“Let’s find a hotel room so we can snuggle up in bed.” Bucky said with a smile and took your hand again. You walked for a few more minutes and then finally found a hotel. When you walked into the hotel, you were greeted by a warm breeze and a friendly lady. When you went to the reception, Bucky took over the conversation and asked the lady for a room. Luckily, they had a room available for you to sleep in tonight. She gave you the key and then you went to your room with Bucky. The first thing you did after Bucky opened the door for you was to change into some different clothes. Then you jumped into the bed and got comfortable under the covers. Bucky chuckled and looked at you with a warm smile. Then he walked over to you, pulled the blanket aside and laid down next to you.
“Come here, I’ll warm you up, doll.” Bucky said, pulling you closer to him. You laid your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. You smiled softly as Bucky kissed your forehead.
“I’m so excited to go home tomorrow so we can celebrate Christmas together.” You said as you looked up at him.
“Me too.” Bucky said with a smile. You talked for a while about all the things you want to do on Christmas and how excited you are about the Avengers Christmas party that’s happening the next day. After a while, you must have fallen asleep because when you woke up, it was dark in the room and only a little light was coming through the curtains. You laid there for a few more minutes, enjoying Bucky’s loving embrace. After a while, Bucky woke up as well and kissed you.
“Good morning, doll.” Bucky whispered in a sleepy voice.
“Morning Bucky.” You said and gave him another kiss. After a few more minutes, you reached for your phone to see what time it was. Because if you want to be home for Christmas, you’d better catch a flight soon.
“I’ll check if there’s a plane going home soon.” You said and Bucky nodded. As you looked at the website, Bucky gave you a kiss on the forehead and got up from the bed.
“Oh, that’s weird.” You said and Bucky turned around.
“What doll?” Bucky asked curiously.
“It says here that there are no flights today.”
“Maybe Steve can pick us up with a Quinjet.” Bucky suggested and you nodded.
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You said as Bucky walked to the window and pulled the curtains away.
“Oh, now I know why there are no flights today.” Bucky suddenly said.
“What, why?” You asked and as you looked over at Bucky, he pulled the curtains away so you could see what was going on outside. It had snowed a lot.
“Looks like we’re snowed in.” Bucky said and your smile started to fade. Bucky immediately noticed and walked over to you.
“But we should be home tomorrow…for Christmas.” You began to sniffle. You wanted to have a perfect Christmas with Bucky.
“Hey, sweetheart, don’t cry.” Bucky whispered as he sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug.
“But we wanted to celebrate Christmas at home.” You said as a tear rolled down your cheek. Bucky gently wiped it away with his thumb and then gave you a warm smile.
“We’re already home.” Bucky suddenly said.
“What?” You asked confused.
“Home is not a place, at least not for me. You’re my home.” You began to smile, and Bucky smiled back at you.
“I love you.” You said and then placed your hand on his cheek and kissed him.
“I love you too.” Bucky told you after the kiss.
“You’re right, we don’t need to be at home. The most important thing is that we’re together.” As you said that, Bucky began to smile.
“Well said, doll.” Bucky said and made you chuckle.
“How about we order some breakfast so we can have breakfast in bed?” Bucky asked.
“That sounds perfect.”
Taglist:
@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes | @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 |
@mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts | @rogersbarber
#sydneysfluffywinter#fluff-star winter event#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky#bucky x reader#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel x you#marvel one shot#marvel fanfiction#marvel fluff#the avengers#sebastian stan
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george weasley moodboard and headcanons pretty please? :3
Sorry for taking so long, I hope you like it 🤠💗
☆ George Weasley Moodboard & Headcanons ☆
golden retriver boyfriend? golden retriver boyfriend!
oh man, he's head over heels for you
kinda feel like everyone knew he had a crush on you because of the way he stared at you and smiled like an idiot (but he's your idiot so it's okay)
he needs physical touch to function properly, always touching you in some way
holding hands while walking down the corridors, elbows brushing against each other during a lesson, fingers moving delicately to move a strand of hair out of your face... I could go on
please go watch his quiddich practice, he'd be so proud :)
sweaty hugs after a match (not that you dislike)
like I said before, gossip trio
and man, he's so ruthless too 😭
sassy queen
calls you beautiful out of the blue just to see you blush
casually pats your head
you spend every holiday at weasley's and he LOVES IT
doesn't like how close you're getting with his sister though
he put up a tent one night and watched the stars with you 🥹💗
I feel like your first time together would be on one of those occasions
kinda the playful type, but also really sweet
his family loves you (actually doesn't understand how someone like Mr. Goofiness pulled someone as good as you)
asks you to study together, tackles you onto the bed after ten minutes " 'cause he's not built for long-term concentration" 🤠
"put that bloody book down, we're making a fort"
certified "I know you can do it yourself but let me do it for you" type of boyfriend
he'd lose his mind if you cooked for him (I mean, he already knew he was gonna marry you, but now he's more whipped than before)
always makes sure you don't get too stressed during exams season
casually bumps his head on yours while sitting
if you have bangs, he would 100% run his hand through them knowing that it infuriates you :)
please watch a horror movie together and enjoy him being scared to death
plays it cool, actually dying inside
I guess that's it
Love you, B. 💖
I do not possess any of these photos, all credits go to the owners.
#cozycore#harry potter headcanon#george weasly x reader#harry potter moodboard#hermione granger#moodboard#ron weasley#harry potter#harry potter marauders#harry potter x reader#george weasley#george wealsey imagine#george weasley headcanon#george weasley moodboard#fred weasley#george weasley x reader#george weasley x you#george weasley x y/n#george weasley x fem#harry potter headcanons#harry potter and the goblet of fire#harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban#harry potter and the deathly hallows#harry potter and the order of the phoenix#harry potter and the cursed child#weasley#marauders moodboard#marauders#padfoot#moony
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Is it enough?
synopsis All these people think love’s for show, but Rafe would die for you in secret.
a/n a late lil Christmas blurb for all the pre-Euro Trip Rafe lovers out there (aka me). Hope everyone’s enjoying the holidays !! 💗
You prefer the Outer Banks over Christmas break.
It’s when the salt air quiets and the tourons dissipate, the pavements pleasantly bare with cold asphalt unblemished. You’re certain to recognise everyone you see in December; you don’t have to perform when you’re out and about, the details of your personality are already firmly embedded. You prefer this, like to smile at that member of your mother’s book club, or that convenience store owner that’s watched you gain inches over the years.
You like recognising the people you make eye contact with. This is easier to do during the winter months, when touron tarnish isn’t diluting the street strollers and beach crowds.
Or so you think.
You’re celebrating the start of Christmas break at the Shake Shack with Topper and Kelce, when this pretty girl you don’t recognise walks in with Rafe and his younger sister.
You use the split second before he spots you to take inventory of his figure. He’s without that Kildare Island cap he likes to wear—always backwards; you’re chagrined that even you remember this little detail—his dirty-blonde locks overgrown and a little damp. He’s just showered, or something. Maybe gone for a swim. A fleeting image of Rafe Cameron’s chiseled torso enters your brain.
You blink. The heat in your cheeks makes you frown on instinct.
Topper must spot him at the same time you do, because he straightens and shouts, “Oi! Cameron!”
Rafe turns toward your table, his blue eyes brightening as he takes the three of you in. Behind him, his younger sister Sarah smiles politely. You watch her lean close to the mystery girl beside her, whisper something inconspicuous that makes her eyes pull right toward you. You smile back, though it’s more grimace than anything particularly deferential.
And then you fix Topper with a pointed glare, because your poor skin has suffered enough warmth for the day. “Topper,” you hiss, “why would you do that?”
“Uh,” Topper balks, looking to Kelce for help. (He provides none. He’s far too busy staring at the girl on Sarah’s left.) “Because he’s our friend?”
“Your friend,” you mutter irritably. You’re still feeling the after effects of shirtless Rafe in your head.
“No way!” Rafe exclaims then; you refuse to look up at him as he walks over, but the amusement in his voice is recognisable as ever. “How’re you guys going?”
He says ‘you guys’, but he only means you really. He’s more pleased than he should be about a rendezvous outside of school hours.
He walks slow, allowing his gaze to fall over you in paces. He’s already forgotten why he came here in the first place, his only goal now to get close enough to spot that freckle on your lower neck. He thinks about kissing it often. Not to mention, it’s winter, so any bare skin on display is a privilege. Light-wash jeans and a singlet with a cardigan pulled over it; he discerns the sliver of waist exposed between them, smells your lavender perfume and feels a jolt in his ribcage.
Kelce straightens slightly as he nears, clearing his throat. “Not bad.” He’s adopted a deeper timbre than you’re used to, enough octaves lower to earn a look of bewilderment. “You?”
“Not bad?” Rafe echoes, sending you a meaningful glance. “You guys have gotta do better than that.”
You narrow your eyes up at him. “Worse now that you’re here.”
“Funny, my afternoon’s gotten way better since I saw you.” Rafe grins. “What’s that saying again? Opposites attract or something?”
You frown harder at that, as if that’s somehow possible. Rafe aches. He’s going to get a smile out of you even if it fucking kills him.
“Anyway,” you say then, ignoring his jibe. “You seem busy, so we’ll let you get back to—”
“We’re not busy,” Rafe interrupts. He reaches behind him and grabs a chair from the table adjacent, sliding it forward and sitting down beside you.
“Rafael.” You sigh. “You can’t just—”
But the sound of Kelce’s chair scraping linoleum causes you to falter; he’s up and out of his own seat before you can continue, grabbing two more chairs and gesturing for Sarah and the mystery girl to join you.
You turn to him, confused, but he’s only got eyes for the pretty brunette that’s taking a seat beside him.
“Oh, thanks,” she says kindly. She’s almost blushing if you squint. “You’re Rafe and Sarah’s friends?”
“Barely,” you reply just as Kelce says, “mainly Rafe’s.” He sends you a pointed look before adding, “we all go to the Academy together. How do you know the Camerons?”
“We’re cousins,” she replies with a smile. “I’m Manon.”
“Manon,” Kelce repeats, slow, in that perplexingly low timbre. “I’m Kelce. How’re you finding the Outer Banks?”
“Good,” she says, still smiling. They haven’t stopped staring at each other since the conversation started.
That’s when it hits you. Your pretty eyes widen, and the corners of your mouth pull up into a pleased expression.
He’s totally crushing on her. Having known him for the better half of his formative years, you’re pretty sure your mind has gathered every single one of his tells.
The way that he’s scooted his chair closer to Manon’s, almost imperceptible. The fact that every word she says has his gaze pulling to her pink lips. They’re still having a conversation, but their eyes aren’t quite in it. Topper’s talking too, Sarah piping up here and there, but you’re taking in Kelce’s features and coming up with a plan.
Rafe is silent too. He hasn’t spoken a word since he noticed your features brighten. His chair’s pretty close to yours too, to be fair; he’s finding it hard to concentrate with your face a kissable distance away. The frown he brought to it has long since dissipated, the smile that reigns making his hands feel rogue, a little reckless.
He has a want to touch you that’s maddening. His only goal now is to keep you smiling that sweet smile.
Besides, he clocked Kelce’s eyes on his cousin the moment he made it over to your table. He’d recognise that look anywhere. It has that same helpless quality that your mere proximity brings him.
He throws his arm around your chair, pulling it closer to his. “Gross,” he murmurs, too low for anyone else to hear. “Could they be any more obvious?”
Your shoulders are touching. You try to focus on everything but the static bare skin on skin elicits.
“Personal space, Rafael,” you grumble weakly, sending him a reproachful look.
“I know right?” Rafe teases quietly, the grin on his face audible. “Manon may as well sit on Smith’s lap, huh?”
You try for a frown. “You know what I meant.”
“It’s different with us,” he says.
You turn to him then, raising your eyebrows. “How so, Cameron?”
A pause then, the closeness of your faces becoming painfully evident. Rafe’s gaze pulls down to your lips, the arm that’s resting on your chair pressing into your back. Your surroundings blur. How does he always manage to get you into such compromising positions?
“Just is,” he murmurs back, his voice rougher now than it was a second ago. His eyes are still on your lips, this maddening pressure bubbling up through his chest. “Mrs Cameron.”
“Ha ha.”
The jibe is enough to pull you out of your reverie, and you roll your eyes, giving him a shove in his chest. He doubles back dramatically, rubbing the space your hand pressed with a pleased grin.
“So have you guys ordered yet?” Rafe asks, drawing back into your space like a magnet.
“Nah,” Topper answers. “We’d only just arrived when you got here.”
“And we aren’t doing anything after,” Kelce adds, only really looking at Manon as he says it. “So we should grab ice-cream too, if you guys are keen. We’d love to help show you around.” He turns to you then, this pointed, pleading look on his face. “Right Y/n?”
“Uh.” You balk. “Yes?”
Your gaze moves to Topper and Sarah, who have struck up a similarly cozy conversation. They’re sitting pretty close together, all eye contact and Topper’s hand on Sarah’s chair back. Your heart drops.
“As long as it’s okay with Top and Sarah,” you add quickly, forcing them to re-enter discussion. “Top—don’t you have that thing later? With your mom and dad?”
Topper doesn’t seem to pick up on your cues, his hand sliding along the chair’s top rail. Sarah leans back into it. In your stomach now, you aren’t sure your heart has any further to plummet.
It’s easier to ignore Rafe’s patchouli and spice cologne when Topper’s indifference is so obvious. You find yourself at odds with wingwoman-ing Kelce and keeping Topper and Sarah as far away from each other as possible.
And you at a distance from Rafe, obviously. No grazing touches and lingering eye contact permitted.
“Uh… oh, the dinner?” Topper replies, furrowing his brow. “Yeah, but it’s only 1.00pm Y/n. Plenty of time before I have to head off for that.”
You grimace. “Right.”
Rafe frowns slightly as he looks over your features, bemused. There’s been a shift in your demeanour, but the culprit evades him.
He watches you glimpse the sliver of space between Topper’s chair and Sarah’s. Oh. The need to pull yours closer to his intensifies ten-fold.
“If that’s settled, we should order,” he says quickly, jumping up out of his seat. He looks down at you expectantly, resisting the urge to offer up his shoulder for you to take.
He’s learned that some things are ‘too much’, whatever that’s supposed to mean. When it comes to you, too much isn’t actually part of his vocabulary.
“You coming, sweetheart?” He adds, his eyes still on your figure.
You meet his gaze. It’s softer than before. An emotion you can’t quite put your finger on passes between the two of you, a gentle something that warms your insides.
“Uh,” you balk again. “Me? Why?”
“Need your help. Don’t know anyone else’s order,” he says. Anyone else, like it’s obvious he knows yours.
Your eyes widen. That gentle something intensifies to hot molasses. “Neither do I,” you reply, almost defensive.
“I’ll get the classic,” Sarah says then, trying not to smile. She shares another look with Manon, who adds, “and I’ll grab the veggie.”
“Okay,” you say slowly, nodding as you stand. “Classic for you too, right Top? And the double for Kelce?”
“Nah, I want the veggie,” Kelce responds, sending Manon a wink. “Reckon it’s time I tried something new.”
Manon’s ears grow pink. “Good choice,” she says, her smile widening.
You can’t help but smile too, turning to face Rafe. And he’s grinning down at you in tandem, this mischievous glint in his eye, and you almost forget that you’re supposed to be vexed as opposed to enamoured.
Almost. You turn back toward the table, creating space between you and him. Rafe aches, again. There’s longing like static in your physical distance.
“Alright,” you say, sounding more amused than bewildered. “Coming right up, I guess?”
You make your way toward the front counter, Rafe falling into your step seamlessly. Once you’re safely out of earshot of your friends, he ducks his head closer to continue your conversation.
“So,” he says seriously. “How’re we going to play this?”
You frown up at him, confused. “Play what exactly?”
“Smith and Manon.”
You balk. “What? Like… set them up?” You steal a glance back at the table, where Kelce and Manon’s chairs have scooted impossibly closer. The unimpressed look on your face softens, a pleased smile transforming your features. “I don’t think they need our help Rafael,” you say, gesturing toward them. “Look.”
Rafe turns too, taking in the scene. “Shit, you’re right,” he responds, grinning. “We’re going to have to keep these good vibes going.”
“You’ll be an expert at those,” you say, raising your eyebrows. “‘Good vibes’.”
“For you, always.”
“For them, Rafe.”
“If it’s you asking,” he reiterates. “Always.”
Your traitorous heart stutters. To compensate, you roll your eyes and turn to face the counter. He moves in tandem, shoulders side by side, elbows almost touching.
“What can I get for you guys today?” The server asks absentmindedly, fiddling with the iPad in front of her.
“Uh, can we get—”
But Rafe’s quicker than you are, repeating the order with ease and adding your own at the end of it. He knows to order your burger with extra pickles and sauce, tacks on the shake you love to dip your fries in when you’re starved. And he pays for the whole meal before you can so much as grab your own card, leaving the server impressed and you perplexingly pissed off.
“You didn’t need to do that,” you say stubbornly, watching him slide his wallet back into his pocket. “We’ll Venmo you.”
“What? No way.” Rafe looks down at you then, all handsome and sincere. Your heart stutters again, a forgotten car engine reborn. “It’s on me, seriously.”
“Rafe.”
“Venmo’s gonna kill the mood, trust me,” he says. “We can’t go back to the table and talk finances. That isn’t romantic.”
“Maybe not for Kelce and Manon,” you reply, frowning up at him. “But Top and I will. You don’t need to pay for our meals.”
“Top got me some beers a few weeks ago, so I owe him.”
Bold faced lie, but Rafe doesn’t particularly care. He wonders whether you realise that you stand closer to him when you’re vexed.
“And me, Cameron?”
“You?” He echoes.
You fold your arms across your chest defiantly, furrowing your brow. Rafe tries to command his gaze, willing it not to fall with the movement.
He fails miserably.
“I—I’ll Venmo you,” you clarify. You aren’t sure why you’re faltering.
“You know I can’t let you do that, sweetheart,” he replies helplessly, his voice lower now.
You sigh, beleaguered. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re impossible,” Rafe returns. “I’d be beyond fucking disowned if anyone found out I made you Venmo me for a burger.”
“It’s polite,” you say stubbornly.
“It’s not polite when what’s mine is yours.”
You balk. “But it isn’t.”
“Course it is,” Rafe replies matter-of-factly. “Has been since freshman year.”
“When we met?” You ask, bewildered.
“Aw.” Rafe cracks a roguish grin. “You remembered.”
“You know what—”
“Y/n, I’m kidding,” he adds quickly, sounding amused. “Not just when we met. When I told my mom I was going to marry you.”
Your cheeks warm, the tips of your ears on fire. “Like I fucking said… impossible.”
“Anyway,” he continues, faux-sombre now. “Today isn’t about us. It’s about Smith and Manon.”
He turns back towards the table, gesturing for you to do the same. As you do, your wrists brush against each other, the pulses within them syncing. The skin-on-skin lingers. “What should we do after lunch? Beach?”
You nod slowly, returning to the task at hand. Trying to ignore the feeling of Rafe’s rough forearm on yours.
“Beach,” you agree. “Let ‘em walk ahead a bit, head to that monument where the lookout is.”
“Great idea,” Rafe says, that mischievous glint in his eye returning.
“And… have you guys shown her the old Church yet? We can drive up there and point out all the old boat wrecks.”
“Well, Smith can,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows at you. “We can pretend we don’t know shit.”
“Even better,” you respond delightedly, grinning up at him.
“And how d’you propose we spend the evening, sweetheart?”
You pause, furrowing your brow in thought. “I know,” you say after a beat. “Star-gazing. We can take some blankets to that park at the end of Clover, you can see Orion’s Belt from there.”
Rafe doesn’t miss the fact that you don’t tell him off for the pet-name, not in that exasperated way you normally do. He realises that playing Cupid makes you more happy than he initially thought it would.
Suddenly, it doesn’t matter that he was your very first victim. Spending time with you like this—like friends—is just as pleasing as teasing you into oblivion.
Not to mention, your proximity is far more apparent when you’re excited. Rafe wonders whether you realise how often your hips touch, your forearms, the soft knuckles of your index and thumb.
(You do. Rafe’s signet ring is as cool on your skin as it is devastating.)
“You know where else you can see Orion’s Belt?” Rafe asks.
“Hm?”
“From the very end of our boat dock.”
You turn to him then, eyes wide. “You’re kidding.”
“Not kidding,” Rafe replies slowly. You’re closer now than you were before, as if that’s somehow possible. “Used to lay out there with my mom all the time. She’d point them all out to me when I was a kid.”
“There’s more?”
Rafe nods. “Ursa Major and minor.” His freckles aren’t dissimilar to the constellations he’s describing. “The Big Dipper too, if we’re lucky and there’s no clouds.”
“Kelce won’t even know where to look for them,” you murmur, quietly bewildered.
“Doesn’t matter,” Rafe replies, his voice low too. “He just has to point at random shit and sound confident.”
You let out a bemused laugh. “S’that what you do with all the girls you take home, Cameron?”
He grins sheepishly. “Guilty. Only cause I know it doesn’t count with them.” He pauses then, ducking his head to eye level. “Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure I know every constellation there is when it’s you I bring home.”
—
Mission set Kelce and Manon up is a roaring success.
After a very enlightening lunch—where Kelce and Manon flirt shamelessly while the rest of you make hushed small talk—the six of you head down to the beach before Topper takes his leave for dinner.
And though by then the two lovebirds are well acquainted enough to be left to their own devices, they continue to insist on your company under the guise of maintaining pleasantries.
If you go, Kelce feels the obligation to go too.
If Rafe does, or Sarah for that matter, Manon’s far too polite to ask you and Kelce for a ride home.
Not that Rafe’s complaining or anything. He’s been afforded the luxury of your presence and he’s basking in it. Everyone around him seems to think his love’s for show, but quiet admiration in the name of company is just as valuable to him.
Setting up your best friend with his cousin, for example, putting his own feelings on pause so you aren’t obligated to act abashed.
So true are his efforts that they’ve led the five of you back to Tannyhill, the sun low on the horizon and amaranth dusk painting the walls in shadow.
As it isn’t yet dark enough to justify star-gazing on the dock, Kelce and Manon have situated themselves on the couch, looking far too cosy with bare shoulders pressed together.
Sarah’s retreated to her room, so you and Rafe idle at the stairwell, unsure.
“Uh…” Kelce turns to you over his shoulder, a hopeful look on his face. “Has Rafe given you a tour of the place yet?”
“Ye—” You falter, Kelce’s eyes widening pointedly. “Oh um, no. Don’t think so.”
Manon shifts sideways then, glancing back at the pair of you. “Rafe should then, no?”
Rafe’s trying his best not to look too pleased. He looks down at you to find that your gaze is already on him, that unnameable emotion back and torturous as ever. “I should, yeah. C’mon.”
He places his hands on your shoulders to guide you up the stairs, exerting this rough, sure pressure that leaves you a little dazed.
“So transparent, huh?” He murmurs, the smile on his face audible. “Sickening.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” you whisper back, equally amused.
“Touchè.” He lets go of your shoulders then, pushing open a door on his left. The heat of his touch lingers. “Here, this is my room.”
You walk in slowly, cautiously. To enter his private space feels oddly sacred.
What’s mine is yours, echoes his voice on your head. You find yourself continuing forward before you’re able to stop yourself.
Scruples of purple light spill through his window, illuminating the flannel comforter pulled over his bed. There’s two bedside tables and a chest of drawers decorated with memorabilia, a wooden desk holding his computer propped up against one corner.
His en-suite door is ajar, shadowy dusk illuminating his toothbrush holder. And all you can smell is his woody cologne, all musk and citrus and spicy patchouli.
You didn’t realise how familiar the notes were until they registered. Less sacred, more home. It’s terrifying.
You grapple for purchase on something you don’t recognise. Walking around his bed to inspect his belongings more carefully, you find yourself face to face with baby Rafe immortalised.
“Fuck off,” you exclaim, letting out a delighted laugh. “How old were you in this, Rafael?”
You’re holding the photo frame that sits on his bedside table, your pretty eyes alight with mischief.
Rafe needs a second to recalibrate. You’re in his room, in the flesh, and Rafe really really needs a second to recalibrate.
“Four,” he answers finally, flashing you a sheepish grin. “I was a chubby kid, huh?”
“A chubby cute kid,” you reply, raising your eyebrows. “What happened?”
“Gained a few inches.” He walks toward you until he’s close, until the difference in your height and his is painfully obvious. “A whole lot of inches.”
You look up at him then, the dim lighting deepening the blue of his eyes. “A whole lot of audacity too.”
“And love,” he murmurs.
“Rafe,” you warn quietly.
“You’re in my room, sweetheart,” he replies helplessly, the timbre of his voice roughening. His gaze is darker now, mirroring the amaranth hues of nightfall. “You’ve gotta cut me some slack.”
Your eyes widen. “Doesn’t mean you’re allowed to look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re going to kiss me.”
A pause. Rafe’s Adam’s apple bobs dangerously in his throat, the small distance between your figures shrinking. “Fuck, Y/n,” he says finally, stepping back from you in a daze. “Is it enough?”
You furrow your brow at him. “What do you mean?”
“Knowing that I’d kiss you… that I’d do anything for you. Is it enough?”
You swallow. The pulse on your wrist falters. “I… I don’t know.”
“That’s okay,” Rafe murmurs back. “Cause it’s enough for me.”
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe x reader#rafe cameron oneshot#rafe cameron imagine#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction
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pane-ting you a picture
An @camandemstudios winter collaboration Pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader Genre: romcom, fluff, slight angst Word count: 6.1k rating: pg tags: Artist!reader, shorter!reader, mentions of food, mentions of jobs loss, mentions of loneliness, snowed in, penpals, yearning, slice of life Summary: Snow is beautiful—when you’re not trapped in it. After days of relentless snowstorms that left your family without electricity—let alone entertainment—you found an unexpected refuge: sketching on the condensation of your windows. What began as idle doodles soon turned into shared exchanges with someone in the neighboring cabin. Though you don’t know who they are or even what they look like, the icy walls and snow couldn’t keep them out your head. author note: thank you @highvern @haologram @gyuswhore @lovetaroandtaemin with brainstorming, banner development, and finalizing this very fluffy piece of work for me. I hope that everyone that reads enjoys. Happy holidays 💗
Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys @idubiluranghae
You expected the holidays to feel lonely this year—just not in the way you imagined.
Instead of the dreaded reality of working through Christmas again, like you had the past couple of years since moving away from home, you’ve found yourself right back where you started. Living with your parents, grappling with the weight of feeling like you failed at adulthood. Paying the bills had become a distant fantasy, leaving even your dreams to taunt you with the craving for a livable wage. It all became too much—and yet somehow, not enough. Moving back home felt like the only option left.
Your parents were thrilled, to say the least—ecstatic, even—to have their eldest back under their roof, having the whole family under one roof again. But for you, it wasn’t the homecoming you had envisioned. You had hoped to return someday with something to show for your time away, some proof that you’d made it on your own.
To mark the occasion, they planned a family getaway, a trip to the mountains surrounded by endless snow. It had been years since the last time you did anything like this together, long before the separation. You had looked forward to it—briefly—until the melancholy of the weather seeped into your chest the moment you arrived. The “lots and lots of snow” your parents had promised quickly turned into an unavoidable obstacle.
Not even a day after you settled in, the whole unit was told that the power had gone out in all the nearby cabins. A widespread blackout had left you stranded in the middle of nowhere, with snow flooding the roads to the nearest businesses. It would be a while before you could even dream of grabbing a snack or anything hot that wasn’t water or those sickly sweet instant hot chocolates.
And now, you were starting to remember just how hard it could be to live with your family again—especially under such trying circumstances. The constant back-and-forth over the tiniest matters, the unsolicited lectures about concepts that were commonsensical, and now the pitying glances. Worse yet were the relentless offers from your parents to set you up with jobs through their friends. If you had to hear about mom’s friend, Barbara, needing an office assistant at her day care center again, you feared you’d lose it.
The weight of it all was becoming harder to bear. Overwhelm was no longer a passing feeling but a constant companion. Your only reprieve was retreating to your bedroom, a cramped space with a single window that came off cozier than anticipated.
You were grateful to have a space of your own again after going without it for as long as you did. If there was one thing you had loved about living alone, it was the solitude—even in the brief moments when your roommate was out. At least then, you could find ways to entertain yourself. Sadly, one of those distractions, your sketchbook, was left behind in the city, abandoned alongside your ambition, your will.
You resorted to tracing shapes in the frost on your windows, the delicate squeak of condensation yielding beneath the pad of your finger the only sound breaking the serene stillness around you. Through the fleeting transparency of your doodles, once tracing the outlines of distant mountains, you spotted another cabin buried under just as much snow as yours.
Curiosity piqued, you press your hands against the cold glass, wiping away the condensation for a clearer view. A window in the other cabin stood nearly parallel to yours, like a portal into another world just out of reach. Before you could even imagine what might lie beyond, a hand suddenly slammed flat against their glass, startling you—a moment straight out of a horror movie.
You nearly yelp but quickly clasped your hand over your mouth to stifle the sound, regaining confidence to look back at the window. Through the neighboring window, the figure with a blurry mop of dark hair began tracing something in the rapidly forming frost. A sloppy ‘hello’ took shape on their side of the glass—backward, but unmistakable.
You chuckled at the sight, assuming the person on the other end was some bored kid, just as restless and bored as you were. Deciding to play along, you traced a reply—a proper, right-sided ‘hello’—before adding a smiley face for good measure. It was a lighthearted exchange, the wholesome moment making you genuinely grin for the first on this trip.
‘Name?’ you drew on the glass, the letters quickly fading as the frost crept back.
‘Wonwoo,’ appeared in shaky but right-side-up letters this time. You couldn’t help but smile at the effort. ‘You?’ they added beneath it, their hand pausing as though waiting with bated breath.
Your finger hovered hesitantly over the fogged-up window as you traced your name, watching the letters slowly take shape. There wasn’t much time to second-guess your decision before they replied with a simple, ‘Nice,’ making it harder to regret it.
Though it was hard to decipher much of what they were trying to communicate, one thing was clear: they loved to talk. And talk they did through endless doodles and barely decipherable scribbles against the glass, turning this serendipitous encounter into a game of charades. From your side, though, most of it looked like nonsense.
Still, it didn’t matter. You were having fun—exchanging prolonged moments with an unseen stranger on the other side of a different window.
A moment stretched into minutes, hours, even days. Long enough that it no longer mattered who was on the other side—though, judging by the look of their hands, it was definitely no kid. Slowly but surely, you found yourself starting to see them as a friend, a routine while you were stuck in the depths of snow.
‘Dinner?’ You’d ask one night, depending on the dim lighting powered by solar energy, listing up the shadows that would lift the surface of Wonwoo’s window.
‘Spaghetti,’ he replied, adding a clumsy doodle of noodles on a plate. ‘You?’
‘Beef stew,’ you answered, following it up with your abstract attempt at drawing a cow.
‘LOL, COW?’
‘Yeah, why?’
‘Kinda sucks.’
You scoffed, a grin spreading across your face at the unexpected insult. ‘Rude.’
‘Honest...pretty bad.’
You couldn’t help but laugh, enjoying these exchanges far more than you expected. The two of you had learned to condense your conversations into quick, simple words, racing against the frost that always made its speedy return. But that made your efforts more of a game, adding a bit of challenge to an otherwise simple conversation.
Your parents were starting to notice how much time you spent cooped up in your room, often calling you out for quality family time—which, in your opinion, you were already doing enough of stuck inside. They seemed to see your alone time—if you could call it that—eating time away at their opportunity to bond. Even your sister, normally so self-involved, had begun making remarks, wondering if the downfall of your life in the city affected you now to have you become such a recluse.
Still, a small part of you wondered if they had a point. Maybe you were spending a bit too much time at the window. But if you were being honest, talking to Wonwoo had become addictive. It was turning into a deliberate decision—to spend every available morning, afternoon, and night tracing words and shapes on the frost, granted the time allowed it.
What began as a way to cope with the isolation, a means to burn through the endless hours, had become a light in the pit of your self-loathing and your emotional turmoil. The more you learned about your mysterious pen pal, the more you found yourself wanting to meet him, eager to put a face to the distraction that took your mind off the snow and things beyond.
“The snow’s finally letting up, sweetie. Why don’t we take a trip to the grocery store, hmm?” Your mom’s hand rested gently on your back, her warm, soothing tone wrapping around you like a blanket.
You glanced at her, your features softening at the tender smile she offered. “Why about Jan?” you suggested, nodding toward her bedroom door, knowing it awaited your sister past it. “She might want to go.”
“But I want you to go.” Her voice had that unmistakable motherly insistence. “I think it’ll do my baby some good to get some fresh air. You can take Dad’s car.”
You hesitated, your gaze drifting toward the window as curiosity tugged at your thoughts. What might he be doing now that the weather was finally clearing? You’d waited for a response, wondering if his family had roped him into another board game or if he was outside, just as your mom was trying to get you to be. Either way, you missed him—but perhaps not enough to keep waiting around.
“Sure,” you said with a small sigh. “Why not.”
The roads were still rough but manageable, and it was admittedly refreshing to see more than just the endless expanse of white that had dominated the past few days. The sun beamed down, its warmth seeping into the interior of the unheated car, a welcome change from the cold.
The grocery store sign loomed ahead, bright and almost obnoxiously loud against the snow-covered landscape as you eased into the parking lot. As expected, the place was bustling with an influx of customers eager to take advantage of the forgiving weather. Every aisle seemed occupied—parents with children, couples, or solo shoppers—shuffling between essentials and indulgences to make the most of their outing.
You clutched the list your mom had handed you, systematically rummaging through shelves and coolers, tossing the requested items into your cart aisle by aisle. You were almost finished, having gathered just about everything your family needed, when something unexpected caught your eye.
In the kid’s toys section, tucked between vibrant miniature trucks and rows of Barbie dolls, a single sketch pad stood out. It was plain but familiar, similar to the one you had lost so long ago. It would be useful in your attempts to communicate with the neighboring cabinet and perhaps revive a passion that you were quick to give up then.
You decided to inconspicuously maneuver your cart closer, as subtle as one could with its squeaky wheels, and reached for the pad as you moved away from the cart. At that same moment, another hand landed on it, fingers brushing the cover in perfect synchronicity with yours.
You met his eyes, shielded by a single pair of eye frames, but nonetheless deep and warm. His hair, a dark and familiar but common shade of black, fell slightly over his forehead as the two of you crouched face-to-face. Rising in unison, the sketchpad still clutched between you, you offered a polite smile.
“Sorry, but do you mind letting go? I found it first,” you said with as much civility as you could muster.
“Not to be rude,” he replied, his voice low and mellow, “but I’m pretty sure I saw it first. We just happened to grab it at the same time.”
“Ha. Well, I wouldn’t know that, seeing as all I saw was my hand reaching for it.”
“And that’s why spatial awareness is so important,” he pointed out casually.
You sighed, feeling an almost tangible heat simmer behind your temples. “Look, I think it’d be really kind of you to just let me have this—”
“And what if I don’t?”
“It’s a sketchpad, not water, not batteries, not a ham radio. A sketchpad. They’re a dime a dozen.”
He raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge glinting in his eyes. “Then why don’t you go find another one?”
“Because it’s here, and I happen to need one.”
“As do I.”
“Well,” you huffed, “I’m an artist.”
“As am I.”
You groaned in exasperation, tightening your grip on the pad. “This isn’t going anywhere.”
“Agreed.” His expression shifted, resolute yet calm, his features almost annoyingly defined and symmetrical. “I take the sketchpad, and you find something else.”
“You—” You stopped yourself, drawing a deep breath, trying to suppress the steam threatening to escape your ears.
He chuckled softly, the sound light but deliberate, as if enjoying the minor conflict he’d stirred. When you opened your eyes, his slight smile met you—subtle but undeniably captivating, his amusement as clear as the sky was blue, free of storm clouds.
“There has to be a way for you to give this up,” you said, attempting to negotiate. “What do you want?”
“For starters,” he said, nudging the sketchpad in your hands with insistence, “this.”
“What else?” you pressed, rolling your eyes. “Something you’d want in exchange.”
He paused, considering, his large hand still gripping the sketchpad like it was a lifeline. “How desperate are you for this notebook?”
The hairs on the back of your neck stood as you instinctively took a step back. “I’d like it very much…”
“Why do you look scared?”
“Why are you behaving creepy?”
“Creepy?” he echoed, sounding almost offended.
“Well, what else am I supposed to think when you ask questions like ‘how desperate are you’ over something as mundane as a sketchpad? I should be running away screaming right now.”
“But you’re not,” he pointed out smugly. “Because of this so-called mundane thing.”
“Well, it’s all I want,” you said firmly. “So.”
“Fine,” he said, his tone shifting. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you have it—”
“Really?” You perked up in excitement.
“—if…”
“…If?”
“If you draw me.”
You blinked at him, utterly baffled as you repeated after him. “Draw you?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed, shrugging as if it was an easy task. “Draw a picture of me, and it’s yours.”
You stared at him, skeptical. “Are you some kind of egotistical maniac who makes people sketch his portrait before killing them?”
He scoffed. “No. I’m just bored. You said you were an artist, didn’t you? Seems fair. Besides, we’ve got time to kill. Draw me.”
You eyed him cautiously, weighing whether this sketchpad was truly worth lingering in the presence of this weirdo—an undeniably good-looking weirdo, but a weirdo all the same.
“What? Worried about the ice cream melting?” he teased.
You shot him a glare before snatching the sketchpad from his grip as he finally relented. “You want a profile or full body?”
“Full body, of course.”
“Of course, you do,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.
After finishing your purchases and loading up your cars, the two of you set off in search of a private, scenic spot. The cold bit the sliver of skin that was exposed, and the snow crunched beneath your feet as you trudged through the frosted terrain. Fortunately, you stumbled upon a small clearing, tucked away and shielded from the relentless winds. The landscape, blanketed in untouched snow and dappled with soft sunlight, offered a rare moment of peace, tranquility—perfect for capturing the stranger in his essence.
"Wow," you murmured, stepping out of your car and taking in the breathtaking scene before you.
"Wow is right," the stranger echoed, towering over you in his thick winter coat, a snug layer of wool wrapped around his neck and top of his head. His presence felt larger than life against the serene backdrop, a picture-esque image. A perfect muse. "Almost feels like a waste, setting all this up for little ol’ me. But hey, not my problem."
He unraveled his scarf slightly, the crisp air brushing against his now-exposed features, sharp and striking in the natural light of the beaming sun. Casually, he settled onto a rock perfectly positioned in the clearing, leaning back as if it were a throne made just for him.
“Your call,” he urged, flashing a playful grin. “Draw me like one of your French girls, Jack.”
You let out a soft chuckle, taking a few steps back to put some distance between you and your subject. With the pencil you’d serendipitously scavenged from your car, you raised it to eye level as if you were a seasoned artist with half an idea of what they’re doing, squinting slightly as you angled it toward him, pretending to search for the best perspective to capture his features. “I have a feeling you’re gonna be hard to work with.”
“Only if you're doing it wrong.”
Finding your stance, you began visualizing his figure on the first page of your newly acquired sketchpad. You focused on the broadness of his shoulders beneath the thick fabric of his coat and the subtle shift of his boots scuffing the snow. He remained still with little effort, making him all the easier to sketch.
“You’re getting my good side, aren’t you?” he asked, his grin nonchalant, but clearly amused as he adjusted his scarf towards the direction of the wind.
“I met you today. How am I supposed to know which side is your good side?”
“Well, I figured you’ve been looking at me long enough to figure it out.” He leaned back slightly. “But that’s a trick question—all my sides are good sides.”
You shook your head, shading in a bit of shadow on the outline of your sketch. “You’re insufferable,” you commented, not looking up.
“Well, God is fair.” He sighed exaggeratedly, his breath visible in the crisp air. “If I were humble too, I’d be too perfect, don’t you think?”
“I think you’d make a better model with your mouth shut,” you replied, glancing up briefly as his grin widened.
The flow of the conversation felt familiar, inviting—weirdly amusing unmatched most conversations you’ve had the past couple years, except perhaps your exchanges with Wonwoo. That is, if you could ever manage to say more than three words at a time to him through the frosted traces on the window. Perhaps your gravitation for either of these men stemmed from the absence of a partner in your life all these years, a quiet longing projected onto them. Either way, there seemed to be no harm in indulging in the attention.
This stranger exuded a certain kindness—an audacious, unconventional amicability that defied explanation but felt undeniably real. It radiated through the harsh winter winds and the ever-deepening snow, a humanity that seemed to drip effortlessly onto your sketchpad. As you captured his form in the way your hands could manage in this damning weather, you found yourself rediscovering your passion thanks to an entitled no-name.
"How's it going?" he asked, curiosity coloring his tone.
"Almost done," you replied, focusing on penciling in a few final details.
"Let me see."
Before you could respond, he hopped off the rock and stepped closer, leaning over your shoulder—his presence towering over you. "Huh. Not bad. But you're missing the defining features on my face,” his hand swept over his face, “you know—the eyes, my cheekbones. My distinct features."
You tilted your head, fixing him with a deadpan stare. "Okay, well, your glasses are in the way, so I can only do so much."
"Fine," he said with exaggerated resignation. Without warning, he took your wrist, his fingers brushing over your surging pulse, and gently guided you to sit against the cold, weathered rock behind him. He crouched in front of you, his face now level with yours, the sharp angles of his features highlighted by the pale, wintry light. The mischievous glint in his eyes was undeniably captivating, the blood pumping through your veins in a way the cold never could. "Here. A closer look—for accuracy."
"For accuracy?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow.
"Just don’t get any funny ideas," he added, his frost-touched breath, lingering the remnant of hot chocolate, making that smile on his face sweeter than you’d like it to be.
"Wouldn’t dream of it," you retorted, shifting your grip on the pencil on the sketchpad as you tried to ignore the way his proximity set your nerves buzzing.
As your eyes moved from the stranger to the sketch, you could notice as he stared back at you just as intently, as if looking directly into your soul, taking note of you and tracing you from memory. Perhaps that was his task as a self-assigned model, to familiarize themselves with their creator—or in his case hostage.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, drawing attention to the slender curve of his neck, bare and delicate. The smooth skin there traced a path upward, leading to the sharp features of his face—his soft lips, the high bridge of his nose, and his keen, fox-like eyes. Your breath was caught, unbidden, as you took a moment to take him in. Your eyes locked with his—just for a fleeting second—before you quickly returned to your sketch, pretending as if you weren’t for a moment thinking more than an artist should.
“Okay. Done,” you concluded with the tap on the page.
The stranger looked it over, holding the sketch pad towards him, smiling. “Don’t forget to sign it.”
”Oh, yeah that’s right,” you said, adding your initials in a prominent spot. “Been so long since I’ve had to do that.”
“Haven’t drawn in a while?”
You shook your head. “Not of people no, not as seriously either.”
”Well, it’s good. Keep it up.”
As you started to tear off the sheet with the sketch—holding the first page reluctantly between your fingers—you hesitated for a moment, then decided to gather the first half of the pages from the sketchbook. You tore them off in one satisfying swift motion and handed the stack to him. “Here.”
His eyes slightly widened in surprise, and he took the papers from you cautiously. “Are you sure?”
“There’s hundreds of pages.” You shrugged, “What do I need the whole stack for?”
He snickered, dusting off the eraser shavings as he admired the sketch again, he grinned happily with his exchange, making him a satisfied customer. “I wonder how much I can sell this for.”
“Maybe your mom will buy it off you,” you playfully retorted.
He, still unnamed, tucked his drawing in his bag, closing the passer door to his car, he walked back toward you, a lingering wistful smile on his face.
“I guess this is where I leave,” he said, a raise and fall to his voice, something dramatic in his tone. “Never to be seen again.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Yep. All's well that ends well, I guess.”
Before you could retreat to your car, his voice stopped you. “That’s it?”
You turned back, meeting his expectant gaze. “What?”
“I thought we had a moment here. Shared something special.”
You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “What? You want a scout badge for it?”
“No…”
“Then say what you mean.”
He scoffed, loosening the scarf around his neck to reveal the faint pink flush coloring his skin. “You’re really just gonna leave without saying goodbye?”
You grinned, tilting your head. “We’ve known each other long enough for goodbyes?”
“Why not?” he replied with a shrug that was meant to seem casual but instead came off surprisingly endearing.
You mirrored his shrug, the flutter in your chest quickening as you met his gaze. “Then…bye, I guess,” you said softly, the words carrying a weight only got heavier.
“Bye,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, the word almost lost in the cold air between you. His smile lingered, faint but visible.
As you climbed into your car, you glanced back to find his silhouette watching, hands stuffed in his pockets. His expression was unreadable but unmistakably drawn to you, even as you moved out of view. Driving away, the sight of him standing there etched in your mind, like a ghost of regret, leaving you wishing there was more you could’ve done. You tapped against the wheel, shaking your head side to side, trying to decipher the significance of the encounter—what it meant and what it meant to you.
By the time you got home, the sun was already dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink. The day had slipped away before you even realized it, leaving you drained as you ushered your family to help with the groceries. Your sister, begrudgingly helpful, carried a single bag into the kitchen, while your parents, far more efficient, managed the rest with ease. They smiled at you as they asked about the store run.
“It was fine,” you answered casually, omitting any mention of the fleeting encounter with a strange man and his self-absorbed request. Instead, you clutched the sketchpad tucked inside your puffer jacket, its presence comforting as you moved quickly to avoid further questions.
After thanking everyone for stocking the groceries, you huddled inside, wasting no time darting to your room. Solitude awaited, and with it, the opportunity to test out your new sketchpad. And there was no better subject than Wonwoo.
You wrote something in bold block letters, loud enough to catch his attention and you pressed the pad against the window.
‘Look who found something to write on!’
You held onto the sketchpad for a few minutes, waiting for a response that never came, wondering if Wonwoo was still out for the day—or maybe even the evening. Shrugging off the silence, you decided to put it to other uses, taking it to the living room as the familiar dynamics of your family unfolded before your eyes.
By the time you got home, the power had returned. Jan had powered her phone, attached to the charging cable on the couch. The fridge, no longer relying on the backup generator, hummed with life as Mom filled it with everything cold. Meanwhile, Dad, his hankering for a beer quenched as he finally cracked one open, releasing a sigh of satisfaction.
You settled on the stairs, sketchpad in hand, and began to recreate the scene before you. Each line brought their motions to life—the way Mom gestured animatedly, how your sister rolled her eyes with a whine, and Dad chimed in with his usual lecture in support of Mom. Their interactions flowed like a motion picture, filling your pages effortlessly.
A smile crept across your face as your pencil scratched vastly against the surface, then rapidly. You envisioned the warmth of their voices, how it would play with the lines of their shapes, drawing them how your eyes saw them. The small but welcoming chaos that was your family began to feel less like an obligation and more like something precious. What you had once dreaded, you now basked in, appreciating it for what it was. And on your sketchpad, it thrived, living through your fingertips and onto the paper.
It was a fun little show and tell to share at dinner that night, bringing smiles to your family as you broke bread together. Even Jan, usually hard to impress, couldn’t help but seem genuinely happy for you.
After the meal, with the house settling into its usual rhythm, you decided to try reaching out to Wonwoo again. You used the sign you had first had to catch his attention, holding it up against the glass, grasping at straws. This time, you waited longer, your breath fogging up the window as the evening chill seeped in. When nothing happened, you knocked lightly, the sound dull against the barrier between your world and his.
Just as you were about to give up again, something caught your eye—shadows of a moving figure, then a scrawl appearing faintly on what looked like a blank surface. It wasn’t elegant—messy even, like chicken scratch, but the message was somehow comprehensible:
‘I found some paper too!’
It was hurried, uneven, written in an excited rush, and it made you break out in the biggest of smiles.
Despite the electricity restored and the household bustling again, your amusement in the simplest forms of communication never ceased to amaze you. There was a charm in it, something oddly intimate and endearing about written notes—just like Wonwoo.
‘Where have you been all day? You weren’t here this morning,’ you interrogated.
‘Errands. The power came on, and my parents kinda pushed us all out of the house,’ he replied.
That answered your question well enough, not giving you much reason to doubt it—until Wonwoo threw a question of his own your way.
‘What did you do to entertain yourself without me? Bet it was boring,’ he wrote.
You rolled your eyes, a small grin tugging at your lips, before scribbling a reply. The more lengthy phrasing really let his personality shine. Although it didn't even take half a mind to know a mind to know Wonwoo was both silly and amicable, seeing the development was something you didn’t realize you longed to see ‘Mine kinda did the same thing. Was out grocery shopping for most of the afternoon.’
‘Shopping took up the whole afternoon? The market’s only 30 minutes away. Something happen?’
You hesitated, chewing on the end of your pen. Was there any point in telling Wonwoo about your encounter? Did it even matter? After a moment of thought, you decided there was no harm in sharing.
‘Met some weirdo. An okay guy, I guess.’
‘Interesting. Weirder than me?’
‘Up for consideration.’
‘Funny we were out at the same time. Maybe we passed by each other without knowing,’ he responded.
‘Maybe,’ you agreed, looking back at all the people that have passed that could’ve possibly been him.
Your exchanges had come a long way from simple signs and one-word notes, now flowing effortlessly into full sentences. There was an ease in your back-and-forth, a connection that felt as natural as breathing. You would miss this interaction when it’s time to go. And admittedly, you’d miss Wonwoo.
After playing catch up with him until the late hours of the night, scribbling your heart’s content on paper until every inch of a page was filled, you eventually grew tired, falling asleep and waking up again unsure of the time of day. You rubbed your eyes of sleep, attempting to perk yourself up, before looking at your phone for the time, the only reason you look at your phone as of late.
5:45pm. Just about plenty of time before dinner.
When you came out of your room, it was vacant, almost eerily quiet how the living area was. “Hello,” you resonated out in the open space, legs trodding over to the kitchen.
Your gaze flickered over to a note, plucking it off the stainless steel. “Letting you sleep, some lunch in the fridge, and coming back with dinner. Love, Mom,” you recited, smiling.
It seemed your family had granted you some alone time, which you were more than happy to take advantage of. Grabbing your sketchbook from your room, you flipped through the filled pages, relieved to find a couple still untouched. The beauty of the day caught your eye, and you decided to capture it—particularly the landscape of the mountains, now finally visible beneath the layers of snow.
You flipped to any empty page, twirling a pencil between your fingers before starting out with an outline, tracing over the peak of the mountains and down its slope. You could get used to this feeling, this inspiration. Your smile widened when the picture was coming together: the shading, the rocks, the snow, even the birds that would sometimes linger on nearby trees. Your heart swelled in bliss like nothing else, any other sensation unmatched.
As you let out a frost bitten breath, presenting your picture to view as the sun was beginning to set in front of you.
“Wow,” a deep voice called out from the darkness, startling you so badly that you dropped your book and pen.
A figure stood under the overhang of the neighboring cabin, tall but obscured by a blanket of shadows. “Who goes there?” you called out, your voice firm despite your unease.
“Who goes there? Are you a troll under a bridge?” he teased, clearly not taking your alarm seriously.
“I’m being serious. Who are you?” you demanded, stepping back cautiously.
“You can’t see me?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine confusion.
“You’re standing in the dark like Slenderman. Of course, I can’t see you!”
“Oh. My bad.”
”Oh?! Why are you just standing there in the dark like a weirdo?”
“How am I being weird? I’m not being weird!” he protested, his voice rising slightly.
“Stop with this creepypasta crap—you scared the hell out of me! Are you a pervert or something?”
“Pervert?” he repeated, sounding offended. “Are you saying that just because I’m a man?”
“I’m saying that because you’re standing in the fucking shadows you have a knife behind your back!”
The shadowy figure finally started to get to the point and stepped out of the darkness, revealing himself to be more than a mere stranger. You blinked in surprise, recognizing him right away.
”You’re the guy from the grocery store.” You pointed out, your tone flat. “You stalking me or something?”
He narrowed his eyes, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “How do I know you’re not stalking me?”
”So, you’re saying I found you so alarmingly attractive that after drawing your picture that you requested I do, that left first to follow you all the way to your cabin, and then decided to draw mountains for fun in the middle of my stalking. Sure.”
”…Can I see them?”
You held out a cautionary hand. “Stay where you are, I have an orange belt.”
The man let out a long sigh, and your name rolled off his tongue so naturally it stopped you in your tracks. “Seriously, how do you not get it yet?”
Your eyes widened. “How do you know my name? Oh my god. You are a stalker.”
He slapped a hand against his chest in mock offense. “I’m Wonwoo, you clueless loser. The person you’ve been talking to for the past—what, week and a half?”
“…Huh.” You blinked, the pieces starting to fall into place. “That would make a lot of sense.” Still, a flicker of doubt lingered. “Prove it.”
He rolled his eyes. “You may be a good artist, but you can’t draw cows.”
You bristled. “I tried my best.”
“Your best sucked,” he quipped without hesitation.
You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at him but feeling the corners of your mouth tug upward despite yourself. “Hmm. Maybe you are Wonwoo.”
He crossed his arms to match yours, a grin spreading across his face at your acceptance. “I kinda had a feeling it would be you.”
You stepped closer, tilting your head. “Oh yeah? How?”
“Well…” His grin grew wider. “I was more so hoping it’d be you. You’re just as interesting in person as you are through…messages? Notes? Can we even call them that?”
You laughed, his words bringing back every ridiculous attempt you’d made to communicate—doodling, caveman vocabulary, the chicken scratch that was already hard enough to read with the condensation on the window.
“Well, it’s good to finally meet you,” you said, extending a hand. “Wonwoo.”
He glanced at your hand, amused. “A handshake?”
You shrugged, smiling. “What’s a better way to officially say hello?”
He shook his head, chuckling, and clasped your hand. The handshake started innocently enough, but then he tugged you forward, pulling you against him. Your breath caught as your bodies pressed together, the warmth between you defying the winter chill. His gaze locked onto yours, holding on to like and suddenly, the world around you seemed to fade.
You weren’t sure how to react, your heart pounding like it was trying to break free, leaving you standing there, suspended in what felt like a hallmark film annoyingly enough. And with that thought, you broke from the spell, finding the courage to speak. “What was that for?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Couldn’t help myself,” he replied, his gaze fixed on you as if time had frozen, a lingering smile playing on his lips.
The corners of your mouth twitched upward despite yourself, almost melting under his playful watch. “Funny.”
“What?”
“We just met, and you’re already hitting on me?”
He scoffed, practically beaming at you falling seamlessly into his rhythm. Thought that was a given, considering the time you’ve known each other. “Actually, we’ve met a total of three times. And, as they say, the third time’s the charm.”
You mused up at him, for a moment entertaining the idea, seeing the picture he was trying to paint. “For what exactly?”
He nonchalantly shrugged, gaze softening as they fell over your features lower, arms sliding up your sides, “Well, ever since you drew me on that rock, I’ve wanted to hug you because I didn’t know if I would ever get the chance to.”
”And now?”
His hand reached up to brush the top of your head, and fingers delicately found themselves through your hair, weaving through with a slow reverent touch. “I hadn’t gotten that far yet,” he softly admitted, “but if you’ll let me, maybe I can make you a part of my art one day.”
”You know…that doesn't make you sound any less like a serial killer.”
”You can’t let me have one serious moment, can you?”
“I think you’ve known me long enough to answer that question yourself,” You grinned.
#thediamondlifenetwork#svthub#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#jeon wonwoo fluff#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x you#seventeen x y/n#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you#wonwoo x y/n#jeon wonwoo angst#wonwoo angst#winterwithyoucollab
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AYAAAIEEEEIEIE Merry Christmas, @sofiathehooman! Me is your secret santa this year!!!! I hope you enjoyed the comic I made! (ALSO IM SORRY I CANT DRAW BACKGROUNDS FOR THE LOVE OF-) AND Huge thank you to @secretsantafrans for hosting this event! 💗💗
Merry Christmas, everyone! Enjoy your holidays! Mwah!
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Heyyy!
I wanted to request a Lando x reader fic where the reader has been falling into her winter depression again and just sort of feels nothing and Lando helps her get out of it. with angst and some fluff x
I love you Lando fics btw they’re so good💗
Winter depression
Summary: Lando helps his girlfriend navigate the numbness of her winter depression with patience, love, and small acts of care, reminding her she’s never alone even in her darkest moments.
Genre: angst, fluff
TW: winter depression
A/N: I relate sm to this honestly. The only difference is that I don’t have someone who helps me out of these winter depression:( anyways!!
English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!
Masterlist
The days grew shorter, the nights longer. The world outside your window had turned cold and gray, mirroring the numbness that had settled deep in your chest. You couldn’t pinpoint when it had started—maybe it was the chill in the air, or the way the holidays seemed to amplify the loneliness you felt.
Lando noticed before you said a word.
“Y/N,” he murmured one evening as you sat curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the television. “You’ve barely spoken today. What’s going on?”
You shrugged, not even glancing his way. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
His gentle but firm tone made your chest tighten. You didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to burden him with the heaviness you couldn’t even put into words. But Lando was persistent.
“Love, talk to me,” he said, sitting beside you and taking your hands in his. “You’ve been distant for days. Is it work? Family? Something I’ve done?”
His concern only made the ache worse. You shook your head, tears burning at the edges of your vision. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”
“It’s not nothing,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Is it... like before? Last winter?”
His question hit home, and you nodded, your voice breaking as you whispered, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Lando. I just feel... empty. Like nothing matters, and I can’t shake it.”
Lando’s arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling you close as you finally let the tears fall.
The following days were quiet. Lando didn’t push you to talk but stayed close, watching you carefully. He knew how this worked—you’d been here before, and he’d been there with you. He wasn’t going to let you fall alone.
He started small. Opening the curtains in the morning to let in the weak winter sunlight. Bringing you a cup of tea just the way you liked it. Sitting beside you in comfortable silence, his hand resting on yours.
On one particularly bleak morning, he coaxed you out of bed with the promise of pancakes. “Come on, love. They’re your favorite, with extra syrup.”
You hesitated but followed him into the kitchen, where he’d somehow managed to burn the first batch. His sheepish grin made you smile—just a little, but it was enough for him to notice.
“There it is,” he said softly, brushing a kiss against your temple. “There’s my girl.”
One afternoon, Lando insisted you go for a walk. You resisted at first, but he was unrelenting. “Just a quick one,” he said, holding your coat out for you. “Fresh air will do you good.”
The park was quiet, the trees bare and the ground dusted with frost. Lando kept his arm around your shoulders, occasionally pointing out something to make you smile—a dog bounding through the snow, a child struggling to build a snowman.
“Do you remember when we had that snowball fight last year?” he asked, grinning at the memory. “You cheated.”
“I did not,” you muttered, though your lips twitched.
“You totally did,” he teased. “You tackled me to the ground and stuffed snow down my jacket.”
The memory brought a genuine laugh to your lips, and Lando’s smile widened. “There she is,” he said again, his tone warm and affectionate.
One evening, you found yourself sitting by the window, staring out at the dark sky. Lando joined you, a blanket draped over his shoulders as he handed you a mug of hot chocolate.
“You know it’s okay to feel this way, right?” he said softly, his voice breaking the silence.
You looked at him, tears welling in your eyes. “It doesn’t feel okay.”
He reached for your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I know. But you’re not alone, Y/N. You’ve got me. Whatever it takes, however long it takes—I’ll be here.”
The sincerity in his eyes, the unwavering love in his voice, made the walls you’d built around yourself begin to crumble.
“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Always.”
Little by little, the numbness began to fade. Lando’s patience and love pulled you out of the darkness, reminding you that even in the coldest winters, warmth could be found.
By the time the first signs of spring arrived, you felt more like yourself again. And as you sat with Lando on the same park bench where he’d made you laugh on that frosty afternoon, you realized how grateful you were to have him by your side.
“You saved me,” you said softly, leaning against him.
He shook his head, his arm around your shoulders. “You saved yourself. I just reminded you how strong you are.”
With Lando, you knew you could face anything—even the darkest winters.
Thank you for reading!
#lando norris#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando x you#f1#fluff#angst#formula one#formula 1#winter#depressing shit
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CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!!
Gladiator Characters x GN! Reader
Feat: Geta, Caracalla, Commodus, Lucius, Maximus, Acacius, Lucilla, Macrinus!!
Christmas Day and Eve headcanons!
Warnings: poorly edited, just a girl who loves these characters and the holidays, a bit short
A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS!! don’t feel the same vibe as I did when a child, so I’m coping with writing. This will be a seven part series regarding Gladiator characters and Christmas and I’ll try to post them all BY THE END OF THE WEEK (?) but uhh don’t hold that against me. Enjoy!!
EDIT: the series has been canceled cause I can’t write. Wait until December 2025!! 💗
Summary: headcanons for all the gladiator characters and how they’d spend Christmas Eve and Day with their SO.
。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚。゚•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• 。゚
Geta would spend Christmas Eve with dinner specially made for his SO, (he def has better cooking skills than Caracalla) and he’d lovingly give them a bonus Eve gift. It’s a beautiful moment, where the strong and feared leader of Rome and succumb to the one he loves.
“Enjoy it darling. The beauty of the holidays does not compare to yours.”
He’d watch you enjoy his meal, and drink the wine he picked out especially for the occasion. As much as music was needed, Geta refused to let anyone interrupt your moment together.
On Christmas Day, it would depend on what happened during the night. Was it a peaceful night, was it active, or was it bland? Either way, Geta would get up and prepare presents for you, a surprise for no one other than the love of his life. He’d do it quietly, and super early in the morning. He’d rarely sleeps in peace anyways, so why use the energy elsewhere?
It would also be a morning where you wake up gently, and be surprised by the lavish decorations Geta has placed. Gold and white silk decorating his room, and most of all, your Emperor was still yours.
- - - - - - -
Caracalla is in love with the holidays. He gets giddy, childlike, and excited every time. This is a period in the year where he can remember something good about his youth. He likes to keep himself happy, and now that you’re his? You’re included in all the traditions.
During your Christmas dinner, he’d bring out a bunch of dinner games, have slaves perform for the both of you (AMND reference btw) and it would be a wholesome night.
Before Christmas Day, the eldest emperor cried during the night. He laid in your arms, and caressed you in return.
“Sweets. I cannot express how much care…”
He looks at you like a puppy worshipping its owner.
“I truly care about you. And although these times are happy and remind me of things, I hope to make new memories with you.”
The night would pass, and the morning would come. You’d wake up in Caracalla’s embrace, and to be frank, none of you got the others gifts out. So you just opened everything together, and you had never seen the man so happy.
- - - - - - -
Commodus and Christmas. What an interesting mix. Take a emotionally damaged man with immense childhood trauma and put him in a holiday where he did nothing but suffer? Where his own father ignored him and gave him nothing but one gift?
Christmas Eve with him was truly nothing but a dinner. Now that he had you, he tried to forget and make new memories. But the shame and pain was still visible in his eyes. You couldn’t take it anymore and sat next to him, caressing him and saying words of affection.
“My present from Venus, ignore my past and ignore my anger. My father ruined my mind, and all you can do it heal it. This Christmas will be my first with you, and if my last? Than I would rather be dead.”
You looked at him with such sincerity in your eyes, he became submissive to your touch and you both proceeded to sit next to the fire in his room.
Christmas morning arrived promptly, and knowing this was a very sensitive time for Commodus, you got him a gift he’d never forget. This necklace, engraved with your initials and his; with both of your favorite jewels. And, a new laurel crown for the one and only Emperor himself.
Commodus nearly fell down into tears, so grateful he was finally seen.
- - - - - - -
Lucius loved you with his entire heart. After being forcefully removed from his mother as a kid, and already losing his first wife, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing another person special to him.
To Lucius, Christmas is the mark of the end of the year, another time to celebrate the fact you’re both alive, and that you’re both still warriors. (writing from a Gladiator! perspective rather than Prince!)
“My love, I am eternally grateful to the Gods that we can be together.”
He kisses your forehead, gently as to not hurt you. You spend your Christmas Eve with a simple meal, and the next day not as lavish either.
Lucius adored you already: but he’d try to get a gift anyways, even though he already admires and thinks you’re just amazing! (Poppy and Branch dynamic)
He’d come up with something cute and homemade, providing the point that it doesn’t have to be expensive to matter. (save me Lucius save me)
- - - - - - -
Maximus wasn’t the same after the loss of his previous wife and child, and this time was bittersweet for him. His SO kept him sane, and he tried not to let his sadness show through.
You decorated the tree in your home, one Maximus was able to buy after years of being a Gladiator. He occasionally goes to the fights, but not anymore. Now he’s a Senator. (NOT CANON ITS JUST SO HES NOT DEAD AND IT WILL MAKE SENSE IN THE OTHER SEVEN PARTS)
He came up behind you and kissed your neck, watching you place the last of the ornaments.
“Excellent work my dear. Excellent. I’m going to bed now, meet you there?”
And he went away in a form far too sad for the usual Maximus. You knew him well, and simply decided to go to sleep as well. The following morning, you woke up first and decided to get your gift for Maximus.
It was a wooden carving of him, his late wife, his late child, and you all together.
Maximus woke up a few minutes later, and got your gift from the bedroom! (You were in the living room.) He got you a bracelet from his dead wife, something that really meant a lot to him.
“My dear? I’d like to give you this. It belonged to my former wife, and she liked it dearly. Made form Spanish jewels and metal, of course. I love you, but I beg for you to understand that she and my son still live in me. You understand, right?”
You nodded, happy and overwhelmed. You gave Maximus his gift, and tears were shed from the both of you. Your gift meant a lot, as you accepted his love and the love for those gone.
- - - - - - -
Acacius loved the holidays. It was a time where he could relax, sink into his own bed, be clean, and most important, be with you.
You finished preparing the meal, a mix of both his and your favorite foods with some Roman delicacies thrown in there.
“Looks great my sweet. Not as good as you though! But you know I love you.”
He caressed your hips before helping set the table. The meal was prepped and Acacius sat you down first. (WHAT A GENTLEMAN)
He sat across from you at the table, and you talked about what was going on, what you wanted to happen in Rome, etc.
Eventually, stuff happened and you both woke up in the each others arms in the morning. Acacius always laid very still in the night, out of pure instinct. However, Christmas morning he couldn’t stop moving around, and woke the both of you up together.
He eagerly said, “Hurry up and change, your gift is outside.” He smiled and left promptly.
Outside, there was a gleaming white stallion.
“For you. A horse just as grand as your soul.”
You smiled. Who wouldn’t want a horse as a gift? But inside you shattered. The only gift you got for Acacius was a painting of himself. You showed it to him, and he reassured you it was enough. Let’s just say he’d also show you it was okay.
- - - - - - -
Lucilla loved the holidays. She decorated excessively, both as a young woman and as she is now. (hc, it’s because Lucius loved the looks and lights of Christmas and the guilt of having him leave her has followed her forever)
“One more wreath I promise… it’s just an extra special one… done!”
She looked at you and smiled. It radiated calm and positivity, an effect only Lucilla had. You kissed her and assured the place looked great.
“Dinner should be set by the slaves by now. It should be good. I trust it is. They sent by fresh fruits and veggies and proper meat as well. I’d like to give you your gift now, would that be alright? I just truly cannot wait.”
You nodded yes, but you’d have to get the gift from the room. You agreed to meet again in five minutes to exchange gifts.
Soon, the two of you are reunited, and she presents a lovely sculpture of you, portrayed in such an ethereal form; as if the gods had carved it themselves. You gave her a crown made from pure gold and a ring, as you knew she loved collecting rings. The ring you gave her had your initials carved, signifying the both of you tied together.
- - - - - - -
Macrinus had a holiday anytime one of his prized gladiators won. Yet, Christmas, was an actual holiday he could look forward to.
“Uh, Dove, do you know if the servants have finished the meal? I’ve got a bunch of gladiators waiting to fight in your honor.”
(he calls you Dove bc you’re his symbol of peace!)
He planted a kiss on your forehead before leading you to the garden outside, where a meal was served and the servants were waiting patiently, deserts, fruits, wine in their hands.
Five gladiators waited in chains to be released to have a “playful” hand to hand fight, something Macrinus found plenty delight in.
“I have a gift for you. I won’t be around tomorrow, as the Emperors requested a meeting with me. So I wish to give you this. I know it’s a bit excessive, but you deserve it.”
He gave you a pearl necklace with ruby earrings to go with it, and a slip saying you owned a young gladiator.
You thanked Macrinus, and you enjoyed the meal as the gladiators fought and the moon shined upon the both of you.
“I live for you, and I love you Dove. Fly high always.”
#gladiator two#gladiator x reader#caracalla x reader#emperor caracalla#emperor geta#fred hechinger#geta x reader#gladiator ii#joseph quinn#lucius verus#lucius x reader#maximus#maximus x reader#paul mescal#russell crowe#lucilla x reader#lucilla#connie nielsen#commodus x reader#commodus#joaquin phoenix#acacius#general acacius#acacius x reader#pedro pascal#macrinus#macrinus x reader#denzel washington
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you're my tomorrow | j.ww
At first, you didn't think anything of it. Jeon Wonwoo was just a customer. However, his daily visits to your bookstore café started to become the highlight of your days. The little conversations here and there made you happy. It's because of him that you always look forward to tomorrow.
☕️ Pairing: customer!Wonwoo x cafeOwner!Reader
☕️ Rating/Genres/AUs: PG; Fluff with a sprinkle of angst, slice of life; Strangers to lovers, cafe au, non!idol au
☕️ Warnings: Reader is smaller than Wonu, ultra soft boi and supportive wonu *swoons*... can't think of anything else but ofc lmk otherwise
☕️ Word Count: 5k
☕️ Author's Note: Thank you to @justsomekpopstuff for giving me this plot idea! I def got carried away and wrote way more than I thought I would lol. I hope you enjoy it! Everyone thank JJ for the storyline ✨ Also, thank you Jess (@the-boy-meets-evil) for beta'ing and giving me amazing suggestions for some edits! 💗
Happy holidays to all (if you celebrate)! Stay safe and have a nice time 💖
seventeen masterlist | main masterlist
Monday
When the door chimes a little after eight at night, you know it’s him.
He strolls in, usual glasses perched on his nose and jacket layered with a few specks of snow. His hair isn’t styled, soft waves adorning his head. He looks like the average person who’s winding down from a long day at work. From the two and a half months you’ve known him, this is his usual state on Monday nights.
Wonwoo entered your cozy bookstore café nearly three months ago. His order rarely varies, and sometimes he orders a drink he could get anywhere else. Yet, for some reason, he always comes here.
And throughout those months, you’ve realized you always look forward to his presence.
“Busy evening?” he asks while stepping up to the counter.
You’re in the middle of packing a pastry for another customer and quickly hand off the bag to your coworker.
“More so than usual; it’s finals week,” you reply with a small smile.
Wonwoo glances around, nodding as he takes in the sight of many tables occupied by people with textbooks, laptops, and notes scattered around them.
“I don’t miss those days,” he chuckles.
“I don’t either,” you agree. “So, what can I get you today?”
Wonwoo peers up at the menu behind you. You wonder why he does so since he usually rotates between three drinks.
“A hot chocolate,” he replies.
“Oh?” You can’t hide your surprise.
He grins, tilting his head slightly. “Should I have ordered something else?”
“No!” you hastily say. “You can order whatever you want.”
He pulls out a bill that exceeds the cost of the order and slides it to your side of the counter.
“Just thought I’d try something new for the holidays,” he explains, then leaves to find a seat.
“Wait!” you call out, bill in your hand. “You paid too much!”
If Wonwoo can hear you, he pretends he doesn’t. He continues his journey and ends up in the corner next to a window by the bookshelves. He retrieves a book from his bag, opening it where his bookmark rests.
Your hand falls to the counter with a heavy sigh. You guess you’ll give him his change when you give him his order. Normally, you’d call customer’s names or numbers for pick-up. But Wonwoo is different.
Wonwoo’s one of the rare customers who gets his order hand-delivered.
After completing the transaction in the system and making his drink, you grab his change from the register and walk to his table.
“One hot chocolate,” you announce and set the cup down along with his change.
“I’ll take the drink,” he says and brings it closer, blatantly ignoring the cash next to it.
“Wonwoo,” you say.
“Yn,” he answers, eyes flickering up.
There’s a small smirk on his lips that makes your insides churn.
“You overpaid,” you simply state.
“So?”
You move his money closer. “So, take it back.”
Wonwoo slides the money back to you. “Consider it a tip.”
“You know we don’t take tips here,” you say, moving it again.
“You should. You all work hard.”
“People are already struggling as is. If they can find solace in a little place like this, that’s all that matters.”
Wonwoo rests his hands on top of yours, which is still on the money, and slides it back to you.
“Then consider it a holiday present. From me to you,” he smiles.
His hand feels warm on yours. Your eyes move down, but you wish you hadn’t.
His large hand nearly covers yours, making you feel small yet protected. You can tell from his build that he’s strong and fit. You wonder what it’d be like to get a hug from him.
“I—” you struggle to speak.
“It’d make me happy.”
You sigh, nodding hesitantly.
He slowly removes his hand. “Thank you.”
“N-No problem,” you say, gathering the change and pocketing it. “Enjoy your book and drink.”
“Thanks,” Wonwoo replies and picks up his book. He holds it up with one hand and uses the other to sip his hot chocolate.
You make your way back to the front, trying to ignore the lingering warmth on your hand and the feeling in your chest.
Tuesday
Wonwoo shows up at the same time but orders one of his usual drinks. It's a different book than yesterday and judging by the similar cover, it's probably the next one in the series.
Ever since Wonwoo “gifted” you money, you’ve been trying to think of something to get him. It’s a little tough considering you don’t actually know him. You know he works a duty-heavy job and that he lives nearby. You know he has a lot of friends despite him being so quiet. Although you’ve never seen Wonwoo and his friends in the same room, they often come with him to the café in duos or trios.
You also learned he’s an avid cat and gaming lover.
You were surprised about the latter.
“Is he also a student?” one of your new coworkers, Sebastian, asks thirty minutes after Wonwoo’s arrival.
You wipe off the cup in your hand and set it on the counter, calling the number associated with it.
“No, he graduated already,” you reply and watch him practice making a drink.
“You seem to know him. Are you two friends?” he wonders.
You lean against the counter. “I don’t think so. He’s just a regular here, so I’ve learned a few things here and there.”
“Ah,” he replies and hands you the finished drink.
You take the drink and start taking a sip to see how well he did.
“You should ask him out.”
You choke on the drink, eyes wide as you reach for a napkin to wipe your chin.
“T-That wouldn’t be appropriate,” you stammer.
He laughs and takes the drink from you. “He’s not working here, and it’s not like you’re paying for him to come by. I don’t see how it’s inappropriate.”
You sigh, knowing he has a point. It’s not that you’re not attracted to Wonwoo, but it feels almost out of line. Plus, you’re not sure if you like Wonwoo, or just like the thought of him. You haven’t been in a relationship in years and would be lying to say you don’t miss having a partner.
You miss being able to share life memories with someone.
Wonwoo’s handsome. He’s kind, funny, caring, and fit—not that that’s a big deciding factor, but it sure is a bonus. Though, do you just want someone with those attributes, or do you want him?
“Just think about it,” Sebastian suggests and greets a new customer.
Your eyes drop to your feet in thought.
Part of you worries you’d make it awkward if he says no. It’s not like you are friends, so you won’t be ruining a friendship, but you enjoy seeing his face every day. His simple presence is one of the highlights of your days.
Plus, you don’t even know if he has a partner already!
You groan, putting a hand over your forehead as you try to organize your thoughts.
“Bad night?” a familiar voice asks from over the counter.
You drop your hand to see who it is.
Wonwoo stands with his empty cup and saucer, book tucked under his arm.
“Ah, uh, not really,” you reply sheepishly. You can’t disclose the true reason for your state; you’ve never been the best liar either.
“Well, I hope whatever is troubling you passes soon,” he says and holds out his dirty dishes.
“You could’ve left them on the table,” you say, grabbing them from his grasp. Your fingers touch his, and it’s difficult not to feel like a silly teenager in the movies, especially with your current predicament.
“I know,” he smiles, “but I wanted to tell you bye, and you seem busy.”
You set the items in the sink before addressing him again. “Still… But thank you anyway.”
“The drink was great, as always.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he says, slowly stepping away from the counter.
You smile, nodding. “See you.”
His eyes linger on you before he turns and exits your café.
Wednesday
Wonwoo comes and goes as usual. It’s a busy night and you’re unable to speak to him much. It’s not the first time that has happened, so he doesn’t seem bothered by the lack of interaction. Regardless, you wish you could’ve spoken to him more.
That night was spent browsing the internet for the perfect gift for Wonwoo.
From gaming headsets to the top-rated books on Goodreads, you felt like you scoured every possible present for him. But none of them satisfied you.
It wasn’t until you came across bookmarks in your recommended section that you decided what to get him.
Maybe a bookmark was too boring, but you figured it was the safer option.
You spend over an hour searching for the right bookmark, but again, you come up short. They’re either too flowery, too plain, or too cliché.
In the end, you opt for making your own.
You find some DIY bookmark kits online and place an order. Trying not to second guess your decision, you call it a night—going to sleep as you brainstorm what to put on the item.
Thursday
“Do people actually read these books?” Wonwoo asks during your break, which you decided to spend with him.
Your gaze follows his to the wall lined with several bookshelves.
You chuckle, “Sometimes.”
“You said you got these books donated?” he asks, recalling an earlier conversation you had when he was a newcomer.
“Most of them,” you hum.
“Does your offer still stand?” he asks.
You turn to him with puzzlement.
He smiles. “You said I could take a book if I left one.”
“Oh,” you laugh out of embarrassment for forgetting. “Of course.”
Wonwoo nods and then stands up. He takes two steps to his right, then carefully plucks a book from a high shelf. He replaces the empty space with his own book.
Something about the simple act has your heartwarming. Or maybe it’s the way he’s so gentle with the books as if they’ll cry if moved too aggressively. You wonder if he’d touch you as carefully, if given the chance. Would you find comfort in his caresses the way you think the books would if they were personified?
Wonwoo sits in his seat again, perching his glasses higher after they slide down.
“Have you read this?” he asks, twisting the book so the cover faces you.
You analyze it for a moment, but the title doesn’t ring a bell.
Shaking your head, “Unfortunately not. I haven’t had the chance to read in a long while.”
“I guess running a business is time-consuming,” he teases lightly.
“How do you find the time? Didn’t you say your work is hard, too?” you ask.
He leans back in his seat, book resting in his lap.
“I make time,” he simply says. “I found it’s important to make time for things I care about.”
He’s staring at you in a way that makes you think there’s more to his words than he lets on.
“T-That’s a good habit, I suppose,” you say.
“When was the last time you did something for yourself, and not the café?” he questions.
Your brows furrow in deep thought. You thought the answer would come easily, but it doesn’t.
“I—I can’t remember,” you answer with your gaze down, a little dejected at the self-reflection.
Wonwoo sits up and leans toward you. He lowers himself until he can snag eye contact.
“Don’t be too harsh on yourself,” he reassures. “I know what it’s like to bury myself in my work.”
“You probably think I’m pathetic, huh?” you laugh awkwardly.
Wonwoo shakes his head.
“It’s good to be dedicated to something. Your efforts are clearly visible,” he gestures to your crowded café. “But at the same time, it’s also good to not burn yourself out.”
You nod in agreement. “I’ll try to be better.”
“Not for me though. For you,” he says.
You offer him a kind smile that he returns. “For me.”
Friday
Wonwoo doesn’t come at his usual time.
You finally finished his gift last night and are eager to show it to him. You try to suppress your excitement, but it’s difficult to calm your mix of emotions.
As you made it, you realized it was the first time doing something non-work related. Usually, you’d be researching new recipes, doing finances, or simply sleeping. Last night, however, you were doing something personal.
Wonwoo’s words from yesterday ring loudly in your ears.
It felt good to take a break from work.
It felt good to feel like an actual person and not some workaholic machine.
Some say people come into your life for a reason. Maybe you’d still be stuck in your cycle, if not for him.
You wish he were here.
Wonwoo’s usually a punctual man, so being this late sends uneasy nerves coursing through you. But, the idea of him not showing up at all is even more worrisome.
Perhaps he’s working overtime and will be here soon. He’s never missed a day.
Yet, as minutes turn into hours, you begin losing hope.
Excitement transitions into worry. This isn’t his typical behavior. You don’t have a way to contact him either.
Is he hurt? Does he need help? Did you say something wrong yesterday? Did he finally decide he doesn’t like your café anymore?
Perhaps you’re too caught up with giving him your gift that you’re overreacting. It could simply be a late, late night at work for him.
He’ll be here.
Even if he just grabs his drink to go, which he’s done in the past, he’ll be here.
The bell chimes as your last coworker leaves for the night.
Wonwoo’s present sat abandoned in your locker throughout your shift. There’s an odd discomfort in your chest as you stare at it now.
You’re not sure if it originates from being unable to gift it and see Wonwoo’s reaction, or if it’s because he never showed up.
Probably a combination of both, but more so the latter.
It’s uncanny to not see Wonwoo every day.
You had never thought about how you’d feel if you didn’t see him constantly. He was just always there. Always so reliable that you didn’t feel the need to consider what if.
What if he stopped showing up? What if you never saw him again? What if he no longer was a constant in your life?
You swallow the lump forming in your throat.
It’s a harsh reality to know he’s not required to visit. He can leave any time he wants. He can stop visiting your bookstore café at any moment.
There’s a strange thought about you not being good enough for him. Though, you’re not sure what that has anything to do with his absence.
Why would it matter if you weren’t good enough for him? He didn’t come to the café for you.
Did he?
If it was you he wanted, couldn’t he ask you out? Perhaps not as a romantic date, but as friends?
He never has, so he must not want to know you beyond the café. Meaning, he doesn’t come to it solely for you.
But, what changed for him not to show up tonight?
Unsettled with your thoughts, you decide to distract yourself with the final tasks you have to do before you leave.
However, the ride home is filled with more endless thoughts about Wonwoo.
Saturday
You come to work with less bounce in your step than usual.
The world outside seems dimmer. It feels as if the skies are going to be consumed with clouds and rain is going to fall. However, a storm was not in the weather’s forecast.
“Are you getting sick?” Sebastian asks.
You force a smile onto your face for the customer in front of you, handing them their order before looking at your coworker.
“No, why?” you wonder.
“You don’t seem well. Did you not sleep well last night?”
You wish you had, but you tossed and turned constantly. You didn’t think Wonwoo’s absence would affect you so much, but your mind kept wandering to every possibility for his no-show. In the end, you just gave yourself a headache.
“No,” you sigh, “but don’t worry about me.”
You try to smile again, but you’re sure Sebastian can see through it.
“Want me to close up tonight?” he offers.
“Don’t you have a big essay due tomorrow?” you question, remembering how stressed he sounded a few days ago.
“Yeah, but—”
“I’ll be fine,” you insist.
Huffing, he nods and grabs the cup from your hand. “Then go rest for a bit while I finish these orders.”
You purse your lips, contemplating arguing. In the end, you relent, moving to the backroom’s couch and plopping down.
You’ve been scrolling through your phone for ten minutes when you hear a familiar voice.
“Is Yn not here today?”
“Oh, she’s not feeling well, so she’s taking a break. Is there something wrong with our service?” Sebastian answers politely.
You shove your phone in your pocket and head to the door. There’s a small window that you peep out of.
You catch a glimpse of Wonwoo’s frown before he speaks again.
“No, everything’s fine. Will you tell her I hope she feels better?” he asks.
Sebastian nods slowly. Although you can’t see his face, you can see the cogs turn in his head.
“Oh! Ooh! You’re that guy.”
Wonwoo looks confused.
“I’m sorry?” Wonwoo replies.
“The guy that always comes in—”
Not trusting Sebastian to keep his matchmaking attempts at bay, you push through the door.
“Wonwoo,” you greet, trying not to seem too eager that he's here today even though you are.
Wonwoo’s eyes drift past Sebastian to see you. Instantly, his mouth begins to lift.
“Hey, you,” he says lightly, sweetly. “I heard you’re not feeling well.”
“Ah, I’m fine. Seb’s just overreacting.”
Sebastian narrows his eyes at you in a glare.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” he scolds.
“I’ve rested enough,” you shoo with a hand.
“Ten minutes isn’t long enou—”
“Seb, do you mind attending to the customers behind Wonwoo?” you interject.
Sebastian eyes you before grumbling under his breath—something about you being stubborn—then greets the next customer.
You move down the counter to an empty space.
“What can I get you?” you ask Wonwoo.
He shakes his head. “Actually, I just wanted to talk today, if that’s okay. I won’t be long.”
You want to say he can take as much time as he wants, but you hold back.
Concern creeps from the shadows around you.
Is he going to tell you he’s leaving forever? Does he not like your drinks anymore? Did he find somewhere better? Someone better?
“O-Oh, yeah, okay,” you mumble and maneuver around the counter.
You lead Wonwoo to his usual corner, next to the window and the bookshelves. It’s a little quieter here.
You both take a seat from across each other.
You fidget in your seat, nerves making you angsty.
“Are you sure you feel okay?” he asks.
“Just tired, nothing to be worried about,” you smile.
Something in your chest warms at knowing he cares about your well-being.
“Hm. Alright,” he replies a little skeptically.
“Is everything okay with you?” You try to change the subject. “You didn’t come in yesterday.”
Your voice trails off, not wanting to show how concerned you were about his absence. However, Wonwoo can sense it regardless.
He smiles, though the small lift at the corner of his mouth tells you he’s amused with your attempt to hide your worry.
“Did you miss me?” he wonders.
Your eyes widen a bit. “I—Well. I just noticed you didn’t come because you always come, you know?”
He nods with a subtle smirk still on his lips, yet it fades after a few seconds.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come,” he apologizes sincerely. “One of my friends was in the hospital.”
Your heart drops and guilt kicks in. It’s not that you didn’t consider the possibility, but you had been more focused on him not liking you or the café.
“Goodness, I’m sorry to hear that. Are they okay?” you ask, frowning.
“He had to get surgery, but he’s fine. Just a little grumpy and whiny,” he chuckles.
You feel better hearing his small laughter.
“That’s better than being in pain, I guess,” you reply.
“Yes,” he concurs. He waits for a beat then continues, “I wanted to ask you a question.”
You tilt your head.
A question. That sounds better than some statement about not seeing you again.
“Okay,” you say.
“When we last spoke, it was about you not having enough time for stuff outside of work,” he begins.
You nod to show you’re following but don’t cut in.
“Well, there’s this small event tomorrow. It’s nothing fancy, just some walking around. I wanted to know if you’d like to go with me?”
Your heart races as he speaks. You’re stumped for words. It’s as if you’ve subconsciously been waiting for this, but now that the time has come, you’re too nervous to answer.
“You can decline,” Wonwoo assures.
Although you’re anxious about the idea of meeting outside of the café, you don’t want to miss the opportunity.
“N-No! I mean, no, I don’t want to decline. What time? Where?” you hurriedly say before he can take back his offer.
He grins and holds out a small piece of paper.
You take it, turning it over to see scribbled numbers. You guess it’s his phone number.
“I can pick you up after work. You close early tomorrow, right?” he asks.
You nod, trying to hide your smile at him remembering your café hours. Though, since he visits frequently, you guess it shouldn’t be that surprising.
“Dress warm, okay?” he adds.
“Okay.”
Wonwoo stands from his seat, and you follow.
“Get some more rest tonight, Yn,” he says softly.
“Y-Yeah. I will,” you reply.
Although you’re no longer fretting over reasons for his no-show yesterday, you’ll be worrying about tomorrow now. Still, you’ll try to sleep—maybe even drink some tea or warm milk. You’ll try for him.
Sunday
Wonwoo comes to the café a few minutes before you close. He’s dressed in a fluffy hoodie layered with a light brown trench coat. He looks so…soft and warm.
Before you depart, you make a drink for each of you. He tries to pay but you profusely veto his offer.
The ride to the event is quiet except for the random music being played from his stereo. You’re unsure how long the ride is, but you don’t care. Even if you’re not speaking, it’s nice being with him in a new environment. It’s nice to see a different side of Wonwoo. And part of you hopes he likes seeing a different side of you too.
The event is free, but since donations are strongly encouraged, you and Wonwoo slip a few bills into the plastic reindeer before stepping onto the lit-up walkway.
People of all ages are enjoying the event. The walkway is wide enough to accommodate a couple of people at a time, but it’s still crowded. It forces you and Wonwoo to bump shoulders several times, and each time, you both apologize.
You notice a few minutes into the walk that he seems tenser than usual. You’re not sure of the reason, and he doesn’t seem inclined to disclose the answer.
You try to distract him by pointing out different features—from big blown-up Santas to mechanical reindeer moving up and down. However, it doesn’t seem too effective.
Wonwoo’s steps eventually begin to slow. He never comes to a complete stop, but with his slow speed, a lot of people pass by. Eventually, there’s a gap in the crowd and his body relaxes.
He must not be a fan of crowds.
“Can we sit for a bit?” you ask, not really needing to rest but there are picnic tables with fake candles on them nearby that are less crowded.
“Sure,” he says.
You guide him to an empty table and sit across from each other.
“Thank you for taking me here,” you smile while glancing around. “It’s so pretty.”
The area is filled with multitudes of holiday decor. There are so many lights strung that you don’t need streetlamps to see. It’s rather magical to see it all. It’s a shame you can’t see this all year round. But then again, it might lose its effect if you see it constantly.
“I’m glad you like it,” he replies.
His eyes drop to your hands clasped on the table. There’s a slight shiver in them.
Suddenly, his hands are covering yours—warmth instantly shooting up your arms from his touch. He says nothing as he rubs his thumbs along your cool skin.
You want to say something; however, it doesn’t feel like you have to, so you just stare at him, a small smile on your face while you bask in the warmth he’s providing.
“How does it feel?” he questions after a few minutes.
You open your mouth to say “good” and to thank him for taking away your coldness, but before you can, he speaks again.
“Getting out, I mean. How does it feel to get out of the café?”
“Oh.” Your face heats rapidly. Thank goodness for your slow reaction. “It’s refreshing.”
Wonwoo hums, nodding.
“Should we walk around again, or should we go? I don’t want you catching a cold,” he says.
“I’d like to see more if that’s okay,” you admit.
“It’s more than okay,” he reassures.
He starts to stand, but you grip his hands to stop him. He stares down at you bemused.
“I have something for you,” you explain.
He sits back down, hands leaving yours when you pull away to retrieve something from your bag.
It’s a small black box with a purple bow on it, albeit the decor is a little squished from being confined to your small bag.
“What’s this?” he asks and carefully brings the box nearby.
“Since you gave me a gift this week,” you say, referring to his tip on Monday, “I got you one as well.”
“You didn’t—”
“Need to? I know. But, I wanted to. And I worked hard on it, so accept it, please?” you say lightly so as to not sound too serious.
He smiles and nods, lifting the lid.
Inside is the bookmark you made him. On the bookmark’s center is a cat with a game controller. It’s simple, but that’s the best you could do with your lack of drawing skills. Attached to the bookmark is a purple tassel.
“You made this?” Wonwoo asks in amazement.
“I’ll only admit to that if you like it,” you say out of nervousness.
Wonwoo laughs and glances at you. “I like it a lot.”
“Then yes, I made it.”
His gaze shifts to the item again, examining it closely for a bit. Then, he sets it back carefully in the box and puts it in his pocket.
“Thank you,” he says earnestly.
“Of course,” you smile.
You and Wonwoo walk around for twenty more minutes before you call it a night. Throughout the entire walk, he held your hand in his free pocket. The warmth from his body combined with his sheltered pocket made your hand clammy. You felt embarrassed at the fact, but Wonwoo refused to release his hold. Truthfully, you didn’t want to let go, but you also didn’t want him to be disgusted at the feeling.
Wonwoo drove you back to your café where your car was.
You tried to demand he stay in your car since he parked next to yours, but he still climbed out.
You stare at his eyes which are framed by his glasses; his cheeks are slightly rosy from the temperature. His dark hair dances softly in the wind. He looks so handsome.
Wonwoo leans forward and connects his lips ever so softly against your cheek. You have the urge to turn your face and capture his lips with yours, but you don’t.
There’s something romantic about going slow.
Wonwoo pulls back with a kind smile.
“You look beautiful tonight, Yn,” he whispers, breath ghosting your face.
You can’t stop the smile forming on your face even if you tried.
“And you look handsome,” you reply.
Wonwoo mirrors your grin.
“Get home safely, alright?” he instructs.
You nod. “You too.”
You unlock your car and climb inside.
Wonwoo lingers outside, watching with his hands in his pockets.
After starting your car and rolling down your window, you lean out and prop your head on your arm that’s resting on the edge.
He bends slightly to see you better, a small grin on his mouth. His face isn’t too close, but it’s closer than it should be for an average person. But, Wonwoo isn’t average.
He’s quiet for a while, and you take the time to observe his features again. Your heart is thumping loudly in your ears. The desire to kiss him resurfaces.
Maybe you’re starting to like Wonwoo. Not just because he’s attractive, kind, funny, and caring, but because he’s Wonwoo.
Wonwoo, who’s been a frequent customer at your café for months.
Wonwoo, who’s always been supportive and kind.
Wonwoo, who’s slowly capturing your heart.
“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks with a smile still on his face.
“Yeah,” you say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Because of Wonwoo, you’re always looking forward to the next day.
For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^
taglist: @musingsofananxiouspotato, @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @iammisstora, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui
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©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.
#kvanity#kdiarynet#svt fluff#svt#svt fanfic#wonwoo fanfic#wonwoo fluff#wonu fluff#wonu fanfic#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo x you#svt wonwoo#seventeen fanfic#seventeen fluff#seventeen oneshots#svt oneshots#seventeen fanfic fluff#svt fanfic fluff
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PICK A CARD
“kissin’ and hope they caught us.”
what will a night out with your future partner be like?
disclaimer ✩: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates, leave what doesn't. this is my early thanksgiving gift to y’all 💗 i’m so thankful for the constant support and feedback idk how many times i can say it lol but thank you. enjoy and have a great holiday!
PILE i.
i can see you two in a club/party setting. the music is so loud it's pulsing through your veins, it's not usually your scene, but your person is right by your side holding you close. their hand is resting slightly on your back/waist guiding you through the crowd — i feel like they'll smell really good too they have a distinct fragrance on that's comforting to you. i feel like you'll be so giddy and excited to be outside with them and be seen together. lots of heads will turn for sure. i feel like y'all are a power couple…like looking at you two walking in together just makes sense but it also triggers jealousy and disbelief in other people? you and your person may come from different backgrounds or have different aesthetics but y’all pair together very well. they’re gonna be looking so smug lollll your person is the silent but confident type, like having you on their arm will shut everybody up and they’ll love it. this person could be very popular or well-known in their profession…i'm getting a serena van der woodsen type of vibe so people can definitely be infatuated with them. you might not even like dancing but you will with them! you're gonna be on cloud 9 the whole night, pile 1. some of you might not smoke or drink but you’ll feel high/drunk off them the entire night it’s so cute! u are my high by dj snake and future vibes for sure.
PILE ii.
the atmosphere is sensual af, pile 2. it's giving the vibe of a private dinner at an upscale restaurant/bar or hotel. your person planned this out very meticulously, and they managed to pull it off without you knowing too many details. you’ll be so happy to be sitting across from them and enjoying their company — i feel like you both don't always have the time to just sit and unwind because you both have very demanding jobs/schedules. i see you two flirting a lot with your eyes and smiling so big…the energy is very warm and playful. the sexual tension will be very thick between the two of you lol they might make comments throughout the night about how good you look. the lighting seems very dim and red seems to be the major theme so you could be wearing a red dress, they might give you a bouquet of red roses, their shirt might be red — idk it's something along those lines lol the color red is just significant for some reason. the food, their company, and the ambiance will be 100000/10 and the night won't stop there 😮💨 cause when they get you back home? soon as i get home by faith evans just came to mind LOL yeah they’re going to want to make up for lost time and please you in any and every way that they can. OKAYYY PILE 222.
PILE iii.
ah this is my introverted pile! i don't think you get out much, pile 3. if you do it's usually because someone begged you to come out and socialize or you pushed yourself to go. you like having your own space and privacy, and sometimes it's a bit overwhelming having to constantly socialize and be around a whole bunch of people that may not mesh with you. i think that your person will be receptive to this, and will take baby steps to get you out of your shell. they’d take you somewhere where you can relax and be comfortable like a drive-in movie theater or maybe somewhere in nature…it's somewhere you both can be alone and in your own bubble tuning out the rest of the world. i can see them holding you close and you’re leaned back against them just so content and reveling in the precious moment. it’s a night you’ll never forget because you’ll realize just how much they mean to you, and how far you’ve come in this connection. it's reminding me of that picture of ariana grande and mac miller at coachella. so so cute.
PILE IV.
y'all are that cute couple that ride for each other, okay!!! y'all will be so in loveeeeeee my GOSH the passion and desire will be so heavy and evident between you two. lana and asap rocky in the ‘national anthem’ music video vibes — it's like that bad boy meets good girl trope. i feel like this person would want to take you places you’ve never been before…they’d want to get all dressed up in fancy clothes and go out on the town with you. there'd be multiple activities in one night. omg they're so spontaneous it'd feel never-ending! you two will be so giddy around each other lol always cracking jokes and laughing about any and everything. i don’t think that it matters where they take you per se, pile 4. you will have the time of your life regardless. they just know how to light up every room that they walk in and ensure that everyone is having a good time! it's so cute and refreshing, ugh. they're going to really sweep you off your feet. they might have a really nice car and you’ll love being a ✨passenger princess✨ LMFAO they might tease you about it too. this person will be your best friend just as much as they are your true love.
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𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 - 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬
summary: in which your instagram post about your new year's kiss causes your brother to freak out slightly
warnings: not proofread
pairing: luke hughes x zegras!reader (lemon au)
a/n: happy holidays to all of you, hope you enjoy yourselves💗
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
-January 1, 2025 -
y/nzegras
liked by lhughes_06, _quinnhughes and others
y/nzegras new year same us 🩵
👥 lhughes_06
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lhughes_06 i love youuuu
y/nzegras @/lhughes_06 i love you more lemon
lhughes_06 gosh i look good
lhughes_06 we ate?
y/nzegras @/lhughes_06 WE ATEEEEE
jackhughes yuck
friendsuser so adorable omg 🥹
jackhughes wait hold on where the hell are my pic creds??
y/nzegras @/jackhughes up your booty ;)
trevorzegras EW WTF Y/N/N
trevorzegras @/jackhughes "DW BRO ILL KEEP THEM UNDER CONTROL" MY ASS
jackhughes @/trevorzegras ... but they're so cute trevorzegras @/jackhughes NOT YOU TOO OMG-
trevorzegras im taking your phone privileges away
y/nzegras @/trevorzegras get out of here you weirdo
friendsuser my parents frfr
_quinnhughes taking this as a sign that there's still hopes for me
lhughes_06 @/_quinnhughes awh quinn that's so cute _quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 shut up.
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⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹
lhughes_06
liked by y/nzegras, _alexturcotte and others
lhughes_06 my favourite kiss 🩵
👥 y/nzegras
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y/nzegras I LOVE YOU
lhughes_06 @/y/nzegras 🩵🩵
y/nzegras i look so good omg
y/nzegras and you look good
y/nzegras we look good holy
jackhughes STILL NOT PIC CREDS??? REALLY
lhughes_06 @/jackhughes stop whining like a baby y/nzegras @/jackhughes AH BABY
trevorzegras ... you guys are testing my limits rn
trevorzegras i will jump on my plane rn do not play with me luke
lhughes_06 @/trevorzegras what did i do this time 😭 y/nzegras @/trevorzegras leave him alone omg
user643 they're so cute i actually cant
user910 may a love like this find this year 🕯️
colecaufield so adorable
trevorzegras @/colecaufield TRAITOR
user543 how does one acquire this? asking for a friend 🌝
_quinnhughes so happy for you two !! 😃
lhughes_06 @/_quinnhughes im sensing some sarcasm here...?? _quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 whatttt never dude
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#bri writes#luke hughes#luke hughes blurb#luke hughes fic#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes imagine#lemon au#jack hughes#trevor zegras#quinn hughes
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Rockstar!eddie x reader. Eddie is on tour and one of the dates lands on his birthday. Reader couldn’t join them on the tour because of work. Eddie is super bummed because he can’t see reader on his birthday. Reader plans with one of the guys in CC to visit Eddie on tour and surprise him for his birthday. Maybe she promised to call him the morning of and she can’t because she’s on a flight. Eddie’s sad because he thinks she forgot his birthday and then she surprises him there. 💗
We all need some warm fluff for the holidays so I'm on it! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3
Birthday surprise
Eddie loved being a rockstar, it was his dream after all. He loved the guitar string scar on his fingertips, the sweat in his hair, the screams of the fans, and the lights on him. It was everything he wanted. But after he fell in love, it was bittersweet.
He still loved everything but now he had some things he hated. He loved the tour but hated missing her. He loved singing to his fans but missed when she sang along. He missed his home with her when he sat on the tiny tour bus. He missed her meals when he ordered takeout. He missed her.
He's been on the road for two months, and while he loved talking to her on the phone, he just wanted to see her face.
"I want to see your face." Eddie groaned over the phone, a pout on his lips. His body rested against the uncomfortable hotel bed, his cheek and shoulder smashed together to hold the phone in between.
"I'm happy I get to see yours on TV and in magazines. You'll be back home with me before you know it." She reassured him.
She could hear the sad sigh over the phone, her heart cracking as he mumbled out in agreement.
"Cheer up, baby. Tomorrow is your birthday! And I'll call you right in the morning."
~~~
Eddie stared at the small clock on his wrist, then at the phone, and back to his wrist. He had to be at the studio right in the morning, so he gave her the number. He told every employee that if someone called for him, he had to tell him right away. But he was worried that they wouldn't tell him so he requested a phone in his dressing room. But the phone never rang.
Because she never called.
~~~
Eddie slouched as he walked into the hotel lobby. It was nearly late afternoon and she never called. She talked about it just the night before so she couldn't have just forgotten, right?
"So want to come down to the bar in a bit? Celebrate the big birthday!" Gareth cheered, he knew Eddie would say no. Eddie and Gareth were the closest in the band, and Gareth knew Y/N's surprise was going to work perfectly.
"No. I think I'm going to try to call Y/N and see if she's right."
Eddie walked into his dark hotel room, he switched on the light, and raced to the phone. He dialed her number and waited, waited, and waited. She didn't pick up, he sighed and went to call her again and when someone knocked on his door. He sighed annoyed. All he wanted to do was get drunk and cry over the fact his girlfriend forgot his birthday. He wasn't big on birthdays anyway, but he hoped this year could have been different.
"No room service needed!" He said towards the door. But they knocked again.
"Gareth I said no!" He tried again, but the person knocked again.
He groaned and walked towards the door. "What do you-" but he cut himself off.
There she was.
His girlfriend was smiling on the other side of the door.
"Happy birthday, handsome." Her arms open as she waited for a hug.
" Oh my God!" Eddie cheered, a smile stretched across his lips as he wrapped his arms around her. He couldn't help but feel like what a kid on Christmas was supposed to feel. Not that he would know. But he had a feeling this was that feeling.
He took a minute to soak her in. His nose in her hair, his arms squeezing her tighter, and his lips on her forehead.
"God, I missed you so much." He mumbled against her skin.
"I missed you too." She said, her hands rubbing up and down his back. He leaned back an inch, just to secure his lips against hers. He got lost in the softness of her lips. He moved his lips against hers with more desperation than he thought he felt.
After a long minute, Eddie pulled away. He moved over so she could walk in, her heavy bags on the floor. She eyed the mess of the room, with a tiny smile.
"I didn't think I'd have company." Eddie blushed, grabbing the trash as he threw away all his cans and wrappers.
"Your ass better not have!" She said, a tone that showed she was serious but a slight silliness to give him relief.
"Never." He promised, a proud smile on his face knowing that's a promise he'd forever keep.
"I'm sorry I didn't call, I was on the plane then at the airport. Then talk with management to get here. And well, I thought maybe throwing you off completely was best." She said, she sat on the bed and he followed. His warm body was next to her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
"It's okay. I may have thrown a fit all day, but this is by far the best birthday present." He said.
"I might have something to prove that wrong." She said with a wink, he eyed her cheeky smile.
"And that's?" He asked
She stood up, slowly unbuttoning her jacket. He tried to keep his eyes on her face but he was a boy in love after all, and fuck he had needs.
He dropped to her chest the second her skin was shown. A deep red bra cupped her breasts perfectly, then down to her smooth stomach. Once the jacket hit the floor, so did he.
His knees were against the carpet as he practically bowed down to her. His hands ran up her bare legs and cupped her ass.
He was in awe of her. No matter how many times he saw her, he was amazed.
He felt his jeans tighten at the small bow at the top of her underwear.
"You are my present I get to unwrap?" He asked, a cheeky smile as he looked up.
"Yes"
Within a second he was on his feet, her body thrown to the bed behind them as he crawled on top of her.
"Happy fucking birthday to me."
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fluff x reader#eddie munson angst x reader#eddie munson fluff x female reader#eddie munson fluff#ashwhowrites#rockstar eddie munson angst#rockstar! eddie x reader#rockstar eddie munson#rockstar eddie x reader
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Cheesy pickup lines
Pairing: Yelena Belova x Avenger!Reader
Prompts: “Your flirting is so bad it's adorable." & “Are you bleeding?”
Warnings: Meantions of minor injury and blood.
Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 600
It seemed like you had a cheesy pickup line for every situation, and were not afraid to use them. Just a few weeks ago the team was headed in the direction of the kitchen when Yelena asked, “What are you all in the mood for, dinner wise?” You were the first to respond, “I'm in the mood for pizza. A pizza you, that is!” After a couple of rolling eyes, and groans, of your fellow Avengers the conversation moved on. Yelena moved your way, “Aw, don’t listen to them, baby. I thought it was a good one.” You quickly pecked her lips before following the rest.
The team was often confused how you managed to convince Yelena to go out with you, after they had witnessed your horrible flirting over and over again for months. Your go to flirting consisted of bad pickup lines, and you used a lot of them. They had hoped that once you and Yelena made your relationship official, the pickup lines would stop. Much to their dismay the cheesy pickup lines continued.
Not a day went by without you using a pickup line, the team wondering when you would finally run out. But your supply seemed endless when you threw pickup line after pickup line to the young widow. Even throwing some holiday themed ones in the mix like, “Will you send me a selfie so that I can show Santa what I want for Christmas this year?” To which Yelena simply replied that she was already yours, with a peck to your lips.
When you got back from your mission with a few cuts on your face, Yelena rushed to your aid. “Are you bleeding?” She asked, even though she could clearly see the blood on your face. Of course, in your line of work it could be anyone's blood. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just got a few scrapes from falling for you.” You say with a sly smile. Yelena shakes her head at your line with a laugh. She knows that even when you’re in pain you would joke around, trying to hide behind the humor but she knew by the slight wince you did as you smiled, that you were hurting. Without another word she leans in and hugs you tights. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” She says stepping back and taking your hand in hers.
She cleans up all of your cuts, and puts bandages on the ones that were in need of them. Once she was done she walked you to bed, where you talked about your mission in some cozy pajamas. It had almost become tradition to spend the day after either one of your missions together like this. Making sure to get some rest, and not letting the darkness get to your head without your partner being able to help you. It was one of the things you loved about your relationship with Yelena, the two of you understood each other so well.
You cuddled into Yelena more when you were done talking about your mission. Smiling when another pickup line idea forms in your brains. “You remind me of a magnet.” You whisper into her shoulder. Yelena, who by now is used to you saying the most random things, is still confused about what you’re getting at. “How come?” She asks with a furrowed brow. “Because you sure are attracting me over here.” Yelena laughs at the newest addition to the ever growing list of pickup lines. “Your flirting is so bad it’s adorable.” She says and hugs you tighter. Unlike your teammates, Yelena would never grow tired of your pickup lines, no matter how bad they were.
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#pockets celebration#yelena belova#yelena belova x reader#yelena belova x female reader#yelena belova x you#yelena x reader#yelena black widow#marvel#marvel imagine#mcu#mcu x reader#yelena belova imagine#yelena belova x gender neutral reader#marvel x reader
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@ps-cactus It is I... your ✨secret santa✨
Thanks for responding to my silly questions, it was pleasure meeting u and Alyn 💗💗 I was gonna do a quick sketch of the windowsill kiss scene (coz it's so frkn cute ugh) but then I came across this ref and I was like ??? Wait a minute??? This is totally alyn and omi?? So here it is... Hope u enjoy it as much as I enjoyed drawing it 😌💗 Santa out have wonderful holidays!!✌️🤶
(Thank you @ladyofsappho @dwightschrute11 for organizing this was a blast! 🫶)
#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy mc#ominis gaunt#ominis gaunt x mc#artists on tumblr#secret santa#amberlyn salters
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