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hurlingdown · 2 days ago

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DRESS . . . TO IMPRESS ?

synopsis. in celebration of the most wonderful time of the year, the one piece men have prepared extra special gifts for you. zoro, law, luffy, ace.

tags. dom! reader, implied top! reader. christmas fluff, crossdressing, big muscly men in skimpy skirts, law in a nurse outfit, lingerie, heavy petting, dirty talk, kissing, horribly written crack (i inserted my humour into this), mentions of sex, fingering, cock-warming, rimming etc, don’t read this seriously, it gets progressively worse, spending the holiday season with them <3

a/n. this is my christmas gift to the one piece fandom. enjoy lol.

“merry christmas,” zoro grunted, and you felt a little dizzy from the overwhelming endorphin rush that went straight to your head and somewhere else.

because this… this was something you would have never anticipated for a christmas gift. this was zoro you were talking about. the epitome of stoicism. had he been just… pretending all along? you would’ve expected something like an earring, maybe, to match his three. a love letter was simply out of the question… though a bouquet of poinsettias wouldn’t be over the top, if he had consulted nami in the first place. but this? this was just… breath-stealing.

you watched as your lover rolled onto his stomach in his scanty outfit to show off the crystal pink plug that he had stuffed into his puffy rim, shooting you a coy glance over his shoulder. “well?” he hummed. “do you like it, babe?”

“yeah,” you breathed out. “i love it. you look gorgeous. i think… i think i just fell in love with you all over again.”

he coughed, a blush rising to his cheeks, and yeah, this was something you were more familiar with—not the balmy heat shrouding your face, the dry crawl of your throat whenever you so simply looked at him, the hint of sweat building at your temples at the thought of doing nasty, sinful things to him.

was he even real? were you dreaming? you better not be, because this was a meal you were going to spend your good time ravishing.

“well, merry christmas to you, too,” you murmured lowly, climbing onto the bed after him, and he bit his lip with a shiver, raising his hips slightly to present you your christmas gift. you wasted no time in laying your hands on him, squeezing at the skin-tight fabric over his luscious thighs, giving his cushiony ass a small slap before smoothing over the warm ache.

“gonna eat you out until you’re wet and sore, baby,” you told him, “and then i’m going to finger you while we binge watch shitty christmas movies together on the couch.” you licked your lips, pretending to think about what you were going to say next. “actually... might as well have you cockwarm me while we’re at it. and once we’re done with that, i’m gonna put it in your slutty hole and fuck you ‘til you start crying, okay?”

“and after that too,” zoro mumbled, shifting onto his back and pulling you down for a soft, wet kiss that sent butterflies roaring in your stomach.

TRAFALGAR LAW

“traf, sweetheart, have you seen my—oh.”

“get. out.”

“what are you wearing…?”

“are you deaf? i said get out!”

“hold on, okay? it’s not like i haven’t seen you naked before! just… is that a nurse uniform?”

but this was different from being naked. this was far more embarrassing. law looked at you with narrowed eyes, tone sharp with accusation that bordered on hurt. “what? you don’t like it?” he nervously bit his lip, pulling down his skirt and squeezing his legs together as though it would hide the very obviously aroused state of his crotch.

“i do! how could i not? you haven’t even let me say anything yet!” you swallowed, feeling saliva seep into your mouth at the erotic sight before you. “you look so fucking hot, you have no idea. i love it, traf. i love it so much—”

“okay, okay, i get it.” he huffed with feigned irritation, a small breath of relief escaping him as he shyly glanced at the floor, hands still clutching at the fabric of his dress. “m-merry christmas.”

you took a few tentative steps forward until you stopped in front of him, and he frowned and turned away, heat rising to his cheeks. “don’t look at me like that. it wasn’t my idea, just so you know…” he swallowed when you put your hands on his bony hips and squeezed, subtly exploring the rest of his outfit with your eyes, and he sighed, relaxing a little. “hey, say something…”

“sorry,” you chuckled, meeting his gaze again. “you’re just… beautiful. i love you. i love the fit. it looks so good on you… thank you for the christmas gift, love.”

“and where’s mine?” he said, attempting to distract you from the deep flush on his cheeks. he slung his arms loosely around your neck, giving you an almost pouty look, to which your heart clenched at. “... don’t tell me you didn’t bring me one.”

“oh, but i did.”

. . . you swore you tried so hard. but you could feel it creeping up on you, like a silhouette, surreptitiously tugging at the corners of your lips. fuck it. you just couldn’t hold back your smirk. you thought you were just absolutely brilliant, coming up with this idea of a gift. you knew he would love it. you just knew.

“eyes on me, baby.”

maintaining sensual eye contact with him, you gently laced your fingers with his, pressing each of his knuckles to your lips in tender kisses. then, with a gentle smile, you guided his hand down, slowly, slowly, until it was fully pressed against the front of your trousers, right where the zipper was. you nudged your hips towards the cup of his palm, faking a moan.

“there’s your gift,” you murmured seductively, and watched giddily as his golden eyes widened in shock and arousal before a sharp, splitting pain on the side of your face knocked you out.

“pervert!”

you laughed victoriously as you went down. like he wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black with that cute little outfit of his.

MONKEY D. LUFFY

“merry christmas!” you heard a deafening guffaw before something crash-tackled you from behind, and you fell onto the floor in a heap of rubbery limbs.

“luffy!” you choked out a laugh as your lover wrapped himself around your ribs, still unwilling to let go. “baby, i can’t breathe.”

“oh. sorry!” he retracted his arms and legs, getting off you with a spring. you sat up, and that’s when you saw what he was wearing. a cute christmas skirt and matching leggings, and he looked so ridiculously adorable you had to do a double take. he frowned at your flabbergasted expression, leaning in to inspect your face. “huh? did i break you? i promise, i didn’t mean to hit you that hard! wait, why’re you lookin’ at me like that?”

he pat your head, as though that would fix things. you squinted at his carefree smile. hold on. what the absolute shit. was that lipstick?

“luff,” you took a deep breath, trying to steady your heartbeat. “who dressed you up?”

“nami, duh,” he sung, giving you a little twirl to show off the fit. you already knew the answer—you just had to double confirm. crap. just how much money did you owe her now? a thousand berri? two thousand? to be fair, for this quality of work, you’d pay her a fortune. “nami said you’d like it. well? d’you?”

“yeah,” you murmured, half in awe, half in devastation, because this was a really bad time to get horny if luffy wasn’t in the mood. “you look really pretty, baby. i love it a lot.” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the horny. but it was just so hard to stop being horny all of a sudden. every time you closed your eyes, all you could envision was the horny: him in that skimpy christmas skirt, a bright flush on his cheeks, sprawled out on the bed underneath you…

the soft press of lips against your cheek made your eyes shoot open. “huh?”

the red colour on his lips was now slightly smudged, and you raised your hand to gently touch your now stained cheek in realisation. “oh…”

“you looked consti- constipated sittin’ there!” luffy explained, in a much louder voice than usual, a thick blush covering his face. “i had to, y’knoow, help you out… in case you were having a hard time…”

and well, there goes your horny.

PORTGAS D. ACE

“darling! you’re home!” you watched as your lover clumsily hobbled out of the bathroom, swathed in the most colourful gift-wrapping paper you had ever seen from chest to heel. “merry christmas!”

you blinked. were you seeing things? “ace, honey,” you started, slowly, with a laugh. “know that i’d love it either way, but… are you supposed to be my gift?”

“well, yeah, sort of.” he grinned, trying to make his way over to you in awkward steps. he winked, keeping himself just out of arm’s reach when you tried to pull him into a kiss. “just watch. you might even be surprised.”

he raised a finger mischievously, and you watched as the tip of it caught on fire. he continued smiling his infamous ‘up-to-no-good’ grin, carefully bringing the small flame near his clothed chest. you raised your eyebrows, unsure, because as much as he was immune to fire, the gift-wrapping probably wasn’t... and the furniture in your house definitely wasn’t.

“watch…” ace stressed with a hush, dramatically pressing his blazing finger onto the wrapping paper, to which it burnt a hole right through, orange flames immediately clinging on to the circular edges, rapidly widening the puncture. soon, his entire so-called ‘outfit’ was on fire, and you were starting to get alarmed when an eye-catching dark red slowly emerged from the burgeoning flames, strapped right across his chest.

you choked. was that… a bra?

“ta-da!” he shouted, opening his arms in full display with what could only be described as pure mirth. “fireproof lingerie!”

what the fuck. you stood there, gaping, unwilling to believe. the rest of the flames gradually died down, revealing a gorgeous pair of red lace lingerie that hugged his crotch and chest in all the perfect areas, showing off his muscled figure, broad in the shoulders but tight in the waist, with thick hips and strong thighs. you could feel yourself salivating post-shock.

“baby, you look really, really sexy, but…” you began, swallowing down your laughter. “forget it. why am i even surprised at this point?” ace grinned, albeit a little more sheepish than usual, rubbing at the back of his neck as you checked him out unabashedly. “ah, damn it. you look like a whole feast. i’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands off you tonight…”

“ain’t that the purpose,” ace purred, shooting you a naughty glance through his lashes. “come and get me, hot stuff. and hey, guess what? we won’t have to worry about me accidentally burning my clothes off this time.”

and needless to say, the both of you had a very merry christmas that night, indeed.

masterlist!

MERRY CHRISTMAS! SORRY IF YOUR BONER DIED 💓🫶

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pomegranatesarchive · 1 day ago

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not so secret santa

max verstappen x teammate!reader

part of redbull!reader

[3.4k] secret santa has never been your favorite holiday tradition; in fact, you’ve always found it more stressful than fun. but this year, it’s somehow even worse—because out of all the people you could have drawn, you ended up with your teammate, max.

"Can't I skip it this year?" you grumbled, watching as the F1 social media admin walked up to you, a phone in one hand, and a Christmas hat in the other.

The woman frowned behind the camera, shaking the hat slightly, "You love Christmas." she pointed out.

You nodded, pocketing your phone in your back pocket, you were on your way to the garage before you were stopped by the last person you wanted to see.

You had no problem with the admin, on the contrary, you found her delightful, but she was making the round of secret santa, and that's why you were hoping to avoid her.

"Christmas and Secret Santa are not the same." you quipped, reaching your hand into the hat and swirling around the tiny slips of paper. You took a deep breath, grasping one before pulling it out, the camera following your every movement.

You leaned by, opening the slip away from prying eyes, "Shit." you cursed, quickly trying to put the paper back into the hat.

The admin laughed, leaning back, "No switching!"

You groaned, "C'mon please!"

She laughed, shaking your head, "Nope! Show the camera."

You grumbled, slowly turning the paper, Max Verstappen.

The woman laughed, delighted by the odds, "Okay. You remember the rules?"

"Don't tell anyone." you grumbled, pocketing the slip of paper, "I never know what to get!" you whined, as much as you loved Christmas the gift-giving part was something you despised, you always second-guessed yourself, and could never pick out what you deemed a 'good gift.’

"You have until two weeks from now." she beamed, before walking away, no doubt on her way to find her next victim.

Later that day you had a list of those who could help you on the hunt for the perfect gift. The first person on your list for help was, unfortunately, out of all people, Jos Verstappen.

Truly he was the last person you would ever want to talk to, but you thought that if anyone could be able to help you with picking out a gift, it would be Max's dad.

You would've gone to his mother, or even sister first. But they rarely visited the garage, much less when Jos was around, which you entirely understood.

"Get him something for racing," he spoke simply, you stood near him awkwardly, this was only your second one-on-one conversation in all the years you've been racing with his child, and moments like these reminded you why you avoided him, "Gloves."

You blinked, "You don't think I should get him something more personal? I mean I've known him for a while now."

"You've known him for a while and still don't know what to get him?" he sent you a look, and you resisted the urge to snap back, taking a deep breath.

"I'm bad a gifts."

"Then don't get him anything," the man shrugged like it was the most reasonable thing, "He hasn't been doing good enough to deserve a good Christmas." he scoffed.

"He's leading the championship." you laughed in amazement, truly not understanding how a father could say such things about his own child.

Jos' eyes snapped over to you, "Norris is catching up, he's not doing good enough."

"Not good enough?" you gaped, taking a step back, deciding to let it go and not start an argument in the middle of the garage, "Nevermind. Nevermind. Thank you for your…help.” you didn’t bother giving him a fake smile, turning on your heel quickly and walking out of the garage.

“Asshole,” you whispered to yourself, walking quickly with eyes on the ground.

“My dad?” you stopped abruptly, looking up to see Max in all his glory standing in front of you.

“Hm?” you blinked, staring up at him.

He pursed his lips, hands on his hips, “You were talking to my dad.”

You nodded slowly, debating whether to lie or not, “…I was.”

He hummed, left eye slightly twitching, “Okay. Why?”

Your mind went blank, thinking of any excuse you could use, “Um…”

Max eyes you, nodding along with you, “Um…”

"I just wanted to catch up."

In hindsight, you definitely should've come up with something more believable.

Max shot you a very telling look, letting you know that he didnt believe an ounce of what you were saying, "Catching up? With Jos?"

"Yes?" you squinted up at him, tone not as believable as you wanted it to be.

"You don't catch up with Jos. You don't like Jos."

You tried to look offended, "I can catch up with Jos."

Max let out a short laugh, eyes glancing behind you, no doubt to his father, "No. You don't like him." he repeated, "Most people don't like him."

You stared up at him with a blank look before letting out a deep breath, "You're right, I don't like him."

Max nodded once more, an amused look on his face, "So why were you talking to him?"

You balled your hands into a fist wanting nothing more but to tell him that you were on a search for the perfect gift, but you resisted, "I wanted to catch up with Jos but then he opened his mouth and reminded me why I stay away."

Max said nothing, simply staring down at you, a certain look in his eyes, you sighed, "I promise."

Finally, Max let up, giving you a smile, and patting your shoulder before walking towards his father.

With a grimace you quickly spun on your heel, catching Jos's eyes, you pressed a finger to your lips, hoping you would get the hint—it appeared like he didnt by the way he looked at you in a mixture of disgust and confusion.

You watched them anxiously for a moment, before scurrying away, choosing to not see the moment Max realized you had lied to him.

Back with the Verstappens, Max was eyeing his father oddly. He knew you had just lied to him, your anxious tone and the way you balled your hands into fists told him you were lying, he just didnt know about what.

"You two were catching up?" Max voiced his disbelief, the last thing he expected was for his father to continue you lie.

"Yes, Max." his father sighed, already annoyed by the talk you and him just had, and now he had his son asking him the same question over and over again.

"About what?" the exasperation in the racer's voice pulled a smile to Jos's face.

He turned to his son with his arms crossed, "Win this race, and I'll tell you."

Max blinked, truly that was the last thing he expected to come from his father...and it made him mad. Years of winning and winning, and the man couldn't tell him this one thing? When had he ever asked for anything from him?

Max scoffed, rolling his eyes before walking away, ignoring his father's calls behind him.

There was something so intimating about Oscar Piastri and his blank face. Maybe it was because of how calm cool and collected he was, while at the moment you were the exact opposite. Either way, you were cursing Secret Santa for putting you in this position.

It was the day after your pick when you ran into him in the hotel reception center, he was sitting on a couch, eyes and face blank.

You contemplated walking away multiple times, but you knew you needed all the imput you could get to get Max the perfect gift.

"Hey Oscar..." you sang awkwardly slowly sliding down to the spot next to him.

He blinked slowly, turning to you slowly, "Hey." he mumbled, before turning back and facing straight, no doubt creeping out some of the people walking by.

You argued with yourself mentally, trying to build up the courage to talk with the man next to you, "So uh.. who'd you get for Secret Santa?" you tried, cringing into yourself.

"I'm not supposed to tell you."

"I'm won’t tell anyone."

"You'll tell Max." you didnt bother trying to defend yourself, knowing he was right, you would've definitely blurted it out to Max.

"Yeah.." you mumbled slowly, prusing your lips.

"You got him right—Max?" he asked simply.

You snapped your head over to him before looking around the hotel reception room crazily, "Shh!" you whispered and shouted, "He could hear you."

Yesterday after Max's conversation with his father, you were sure he was going to come back and let you know that his father had spilled the beans, teasing you over not being able to keep 'secret' Santa a 'secret' for longer than 24 hours.

But he never did. Instead, he complained about Jos for almost a full hour, not once did he bring up the gift situation.

"Yes. Because I'm sure he can hear me from the track...from here."

You shrunk slightly in embarrassment, you were not aware he had left the hotel, "You never know." you scoffed, rolling your eyes, "So uh.. you're good at gift-giving, right?"

Oscar tilted his head in thought, "I mean, I don't think it's something I'm known for."

"But like, you're good at it right?" you tried leaning towards him.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Happily, you slightly bounced on your spot, "Great!" you paused, "So like, hypothetically, if you got Max for Secret Santa," you saw a small smile spread on Oscar's face, "Hypothetically, what would you get him?"

Oscar hummed, "Hypothetically..." he dragged the word out, he paused before seeming stumped, "I don't know.."

"Oscar!" you groaned, slumping in disappointment.

"I seriously don't know," he whispered to himself, seemingly distraught, "Wow...I don't know."

The room's tone shifted as Oscar kept mumbling to himself.

"It's okay Oscar," you smiled awkwardly, "I don't know, I don't know, I don't know..." he muttered to himself, avoiding eye contact.

"It's okay.." you patted his arm, noticing more and more people were glancing your way, yet he didnt stop mumbling to himself.

You laughed awkwardly, slowly getting up, "Yeah okay." you mumbled, looking around before walking away, leaving him with his mumbles.

You circled around the hotel lobby for what felt like hours (it was three minutes) continuously taking peeks at Oscar, who continued to look in horror at a revelation that he, did not know.

After a few more circles, you thankfully spotted the next person on your ‘help with gift’ list, Lando. He was exiting the elevator, a concerned look on his face as he started heading towards Oscar.

You took off in a quick jog, cutting him off mid-walk, he stumbled on his feet trying to not bump into you, “Hey!” you greeted gleefully, blocking his eyesight as they trailed back to Oscar.

"Hey." he blinked, shooting you a quick smile before his eyes inevitability trailed back to Oscar, who had a deep frown on his face.

"I need your help," you pursed your lips, Lando looked down at you in confusion before looking back to Oscar, contemplation clear on his face. You decided to clear the air, "Oscars fine. He just's...thinking, about what I'm going to ask you actually!"

It took a second before Lando nodded in acceptance, "Okay? What’s up?"

"I got Max for Secret Santa, and I want to get him something super good, but you know I'm bad at gifts right? Yeah, I got you for Secret Santa last year and it sucked," you rambled as Lando nodded with a frown, recalling when you got him a replica of his helmet, like his own helmet, it would've been thoughtful if it wasn't, his helmet, "And I asked Jos and he was no help, so then I asked Oscar but I think.. I think I broke him."

Lando looked down at you blankly, opening his mouth and closing it a couple times, before finally, he took a deep breath, "Okay.." he dragged out, "Why don't you try anything racing-related?"

"That's what Jos suggested."

Lando jumped back in disgusted, "So let's not get him anything racing-related."

You nodded in agreement, "I was going to get him a new cat but that seems like a big commitment."

Lando hummed in agreement, "Especially because he just got one, what's its name? Donatello?"

"Mhmm."

"What if you don't get him a cat, but get him something for his cats." He rose up a brow.

Your face lit up before it slowly dimmed, "But isn't that like getting his cats something and not him something."

Lando shrugged, a small frown appearing on his face, "That's all I got."

You groaned throwing your head back, "No! Lando no!"

Lando laughed, his eyes crinkling in amusement, "I'm sorry!"

You moved to his side, putting your head on his shoulder, "What'd you get Zhou?"

Lano beamed, "A pillow of his cat, Sweetcorn."

You gasped, an open-mouth smile on your face, Lando quickly cut in, "No you cannot use that idea!"

You faltered, looking up with a glare, "Have I told you how much I hate you?"

Lando looked down at you with a cheeky smile, "Many times, yes."

You grumble to yourself, slight smaking him on the shoulder before turning and walking away, onto the next and final person on your list.

You had lost Daniel Ricciardo's phone number. That was a big problem seeing as he was the last person on your 'quest to find Max the perfect gift' list.

You had gotten a phone two months prior, actually, Max got you a new phone, claiming that your old phone was 'deteriorating.'

During the process of switching phones, all of your contacts were deleted, a problem that was solved as you went around the track asking for all the phone numbers you could get, the problem was that Daniel was no longer at the track. You told yourself that you would get to it eventually, but you never did.

And now you were in this horrible situation, you had to somehow get Daniel's phone number from Max, without explaining why you needed it.

You could've gone to literally any of the other drivers, but they all seemed to be strangely avoiding you. (Little did you know Max had figured out the next part of your plan and told everyone to ‘hide’ from you so you had no choice but to go to him.)

He was sitting next to GP, pointing at something on the screen his mouth moving widely. You snuck up behind him, giving GP a look, hoping he would take the hint. Thankfully he did. He only took a couple seconds patting Max on his back and walking away.

Quickly you slid into his seat, shooting Max a smile.

His eyebrows shot up instantly, "You're done avoiding me?"

You laughed fakely, looking around the garage, "Me? Ignore you? What? Outrageous Max, just—outrageous."

The driver shot you a look, making you clear your throat awkwardly, "Do you have Daniel Riccarido's number?" Stupid question, of course, he had his number.

"I do." Max nodded simply, you winced you had hoped that he would just offer it on the spot, but of course is it really Max if he isn't difficult?

"Great!" you nodded enthusiastically, "..Can I have it?" you added quickly.

Max smiled to himself, turning his body toward you entirely, his head leaning on his palm, "Why do you want it?"

You faltered, swallowing thickly, "Why?" you stuttered, trying to think of a great excuse.

"Mhm. Why?"

You stared at him, "Because he's my friend. And—and I miss talking to him."

Max's smile got wider, "I got you a new phone two months ago, you haven't said anything about talking to Daniel?"

Shit. He was catching on. "I want to ask him out!" What?

You blinked, shocked at what had just come out of your mouth, Max on the other hand looked more amused than ever, "Oh?" he tilted his head, "Really? You and Daniel?"

You nodded painfully, "Yeah—yeah, um I've been thinking about it for a long time?...and this just seems like the right moment, ya know?"

Max was beaming ear to ear, "No, I don't know."

"Okay well, you don't need to get it. I just—I need his phone number please."

Wordless, Max handed you his phone, watching as you opened it and sent yourself Daniel's number, you hopped off the chair, giving him one last awkward smile, "See you later!"

Max watched you go with a fond smile, shaking his head. God he couldn't wait to see what you would get him for Secret Santa.

"I'm surprised to hear from you!" was one of the first things Daniel said when he picked up the phone. You were currently in the bathroom with five minutes to spare before ths race started.

"I lost your number!" you defended yourself, peeking under the stall to see if anyone had entered the bathroom, thankful nobody had, "I need your help."

"How may the wise Daniel Ricciardo help thee?"

You pulled a face, shaking your head, "What should I get Max for secret santa?"

"Easy. Get him something family-related."

You got a hear a pin drop. Easy. Something family-related, of course! Max loves his family!

"You are a fucking genius, Daniel."

"So I've been told." you could hear his smirk through the phone. Unfortunately, you didnt have time to hear him continue, "While I have you, how has your season been—“

"Sorry Daniel, can't talk, thanks for the insight! Oh and by the way, if Max or anyone asked I declared my love for you on this call and you very kindly rejected me? Okay? Okay!" before he could splutter out anything, you had already hung up.

Max stood in front of the camera crew, a smile on his face as he shook the small envelope, "So it's not a new cat?" he quipped.

The people behidn the camera laughed, the social media admin shrugged with a grin, "It still could be."

Max shook his head as he started to slowly and carefully open the envelope, "I don't think she could manage to fit a cat in here." nobody picked up on the 'she'

Max hummed as he peeked inside the envelope, "I see a note, should I read that first?" he looked at the admin, who shrugged.

"Okay.." he dragged out, pulling out the note, he cleared his throat as he started to read, "Happy Holidays Max! I hope you're reading this after you've opened the actual present..." Max paused, slowly turning up to the crew who were shaking in laughter, he shook his head deciding that it was too late to stop, "Getting you a present was very very, very difficult, but after some help, I was able to make my choice, I really do hope you enjoy the vacation with your mom and sister," he paused before continuing, "And don't worry about booking hotels or babysitters, I got it all done, Merry (early) Christmas Maxie, with love—your secret santa."

With a huge smile, Max placed the letter onto the table, before excitedly reaching into the envelopes, and pulling out three plane ticks, "Wow." he gasped, turning the tickets and showing them off to the camera, "It's three tickets to Greece for me, my mom and sister," he beamed, examining them further, "I've always wanted to go." he whispered to himself.

The camera crew smiled to themselves while the social media admin leaned in with her eyebrow raised, "Any idea who your secret santa was?"

Max nodded almost instantly, laughing slightly, "It's (yn) I recognize her writing."

The admin laughed, shaking her head, "That's cheating Max!"

Max shook his head, pointing at the woman, "It's not my fault I'm good at this!"

The admin waved him off, "Okay! Okay, you were right, it was her."

Max smirked, "I knew it," his eyes unfocused, wandering over to behind the group of people in front of them, curious they all trailed their eyes over to where he was staring, "I guessed right! You can come out now!" Max yelled out, the camera crew gasped as you peeked out of a thick pillar, hopping over to them with a smile.

"She was there the whole time?" the mic man whispered to the cameraman, who shrugged, mouth open in surprise.

"I don't know...but that's slightly scary."

You walked over to Max with a smile, letting out a small squeak as he pulled you into a tight hug unexpectedly, "You guessed so quickly" you groaned, feeling him press a kiss on your head.

"I found your list," Max whispered in your ear, laughing as he felt you tense up.

"Like the list?" you groaned, feeling embarrassment flood your system.

"The list," Max confirmed as you two pulled away.

You winced avoiding eye contact.

Max laughed, reaching over to squeeze your hand, "Thank you. Really. I love the gift."

You smiled proudly, before turning to the admin who was watching the scene with a small smile, "I'm warning you right now that I am never doing secret santa gain."

The woman giggled, a cerstain gleam in her eye, "We'll see about that."

a/n: truly impressed with the writers who write 4k words and UP fics, this one is 3.4k and it took me well over two weeks to write (which is why its being uploaded after christmas) anywhoo i hope you guys enjoyed!!!

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flemingology · 3 days ago

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mistletoe ─ alexia putellas x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: you try to drop hints to alexia through your christmas decoration

warnings: oblivious alexia deserves a warning on its own

wc: 6.5k

a/n: merry christmas eve to all of you, i loved writing this. i'm glad you all finally get to read this. i hope you enjoy this and i hope you enjoy your evening, if you're celebrating. <3

You and Alexia had met a couple years ago at the driving range which you worked at. The Spaniard, accompanied with some of her Barcelona teammates, had picked out your work place as their team bonding haven for the afternoon. You had taken a gap year between your bachelors and masters, spending 12 months in Spain with your aunt, in her apartment in the Barcelona city centre. You'd picked up a side job at the driving range which kept you busy throughout the year, but left you more than enough time to soak in the Spanish sun and to explore the rowdy streets of Barcelona.

You and her hit it off immediately, cracking jokes off of each other any time you had the chance. She liked how you didn't seem to treat her as Alexia Putellas – the footballer, but just as Alexia. Human Alexia. Not the one that everyone seemed to want a signature from, or a picture with, but just the one in her day-to-day life. The persona that she didn't get to be most of the times when she was out and about, so it was a welcome change for her.

By the end of their time at the driving range, Alexia had had to endure endless teasing and torturing from her friends about her connection with you. The midfielder hadn't had a romantic interest in a good while, forever claiming she was too busy, but she knew damn well that was a little white lie to cover up for the fact that – despite the attention she faced every single day – she was just really, really shy. So when her friends realized that Alexia was hitting it off with one of the workers from the range, they were adamant that she tried to get your number.

While you were closing up, putting the last sets of chairs on tables and making sure all lights were off and doors were locked, you were suddenly startled by a tap on your shoulder. You couldn't conceal the squeal that escaped your lips, but were quickly comforted once you turned around and saw the face that you'd been thinking about all afternoon.

Alexia's advances had definitely gotten to you throughout the afternoon. You remained professional, but you found yourself gravitating towards their lane every time you had a free moment. You spent most of your time mingling with Alexia and her friends, talking about everything and nothing. It was safe to say that a little flirting had occurred, but you knew who Alexia was and you wouldn't have put it past her for that to be something she did on a daily. You assumed that the Ballon d'Or-winning midfielder could have about anyone she wanted, so you quickly wiped the thought away of her being into you of all people.

"Oh, Alexia, it's you," you chuckled, holding your hand over your chest where your heart would be. "Lo siento, I didn't mean to scare you," Alexia said, her Spanish accent seeping through whenever she spoke English. "Don't worry. Everything okay? Was everything to your guys liking?" She gave you a curt nod, and moved her weight from one leg to the other. She seemed a little restless, but you couldn't put your finger on the emotions that were etched on her face.

Alexia opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, trying to come up with the right thing to say. You were just about to make a joke, when she reached into the crossbody bag she was carrying and pulled out a piece of paper. "Do you have a... uhm," she frowned, looking around. "How you say... una birome?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, amused at how restless the otherwise so composed footballer seemed. Despite your efforts, though, you couldn't help Alexia with her translation. You'd picked up a couple classes here and there, and your Spanish had gotten a lot better ever since you started your year out here, but your knowledge of the language still left a lot to be desired.

"Una biroma?" you replied, cocking your eyebrow at her. "No, birome. E, not a," Alexia frowned and seemed to have forgotten about what she actually needed, busying herself with explaining the pronunciation of the word. "Alexia, what do you need?" you interrupted her before she could get lost in her words, both wanting her to tell you what she wanted, but you were also running late to dinner with your aunt. You needed to lock up the range and drive home quick if you wanted to beat the evening traffic, but Alexia was giving you a hard time at doing so.

"Something to write, uh..." "A pen?" "Sí, a pen!"

A breathy laugh escaped your lips as Alexia's face lit up. You reached into your back pocket and pulled out the pen you used to write down people's drink orders during the day. "Here. This should do, why do you need it?"

Alexia snatched the pen from your hands and scribbled something down on the piece of paper she'd taken from her bag. Before you could grasp what was happening, she was done and pushed both the paper and the pen back in your hands, before rushing off towards the parking lot. You could just about clamp onto both before they fell down, calling after Alexia, but to no avail. She'd already turned the corner outside and she was out of sight. You shook your head and frowned, wondering what could've startled her all of a sudden. You opened up the crumpled piece of paper and noticed she'd written down her number, a couple scratched out numbers and it was written all wonky. She had clearly been nervous about giving you her number, but you still didn't feel like it warranted her just running out on you like that.

You couldn't help the warm feeling that nestled itself into your stomach at the fact you had seemed to make Alexia Putellas nervous. The Alexia Putellas, 3-time UWCL winner, 2-time Ballon d'Or winner, had gotten so incredibly nervous around you that she sprinted away when she gave you her number.

What you didn't know, whilst you were locking up, is that Alexia was receiving an unimaginable amount of stick at how she handled the situation, but her friends were silently proud of her nonetheless for at least attempting at putting herself out there. They know she struggled with it and for her to make this first step, despite all the pushing by her friends, it was a big leap.

Later that night, when you arrived back home from dinner with your aunt, you decided that would be a good time to message Alexia. You didn't feel like it was appropriate to text her right away, deciding to let some tension build up between the both of you before you allowed her the reprieve of knowing you liked her back.

You texted a little back and forth that same evening, and before you knew it had you a date set in your calendar. You'd agreed on going for coffee the day after, and the rest was history.

But what first seemed like happily ever after, was going to be nothing like it. Not in the slightest. Your first date with Alexia was amazing. The energy you shared at the driving range carried over to the café, the both of you sharing a couple hours talking about everything and nothing with each other. You talked about her career, her youth, her path up to where she was right now, and you talked about your studies, your home back in England and your experiences in Barcelona. You thought the two of you shared a real connection, but you couldn't shake the tinge of disappointment you felt when you didn't end the date with a kiss.

Nonetheless, a second date came, and the two of you still hit it off. You conversed like you'd known each other for years, never a moment of silence when you were together. It felt right with Alexia, you felt comfortable and you could tell she felt the same. And even if you couldn't sense it, you knew because she told you. She opened up about how she felt like she could be herself around you, a welcome change from her usual day-to-day life where she felt like she had to perform and be the version of herself 24/7, day in day out. Your heart had warmed at her words, and you couldn't help but hope that this time, your date would end with a kiss. But nothing was less true.

Weeks went on, date after date happened, you had both been to each other's apartments, but that base hadn't been covered yet. Despite your – sometimes not so subtle – hints, you started falling into a pattern of just casual friendship. It felt like, every week, the mountain was becoming higher to climb. The tension was palpable between the two of you and you knew the Spaniard could feel it too. She'd been more careful around you, a little less expressive and a little less touchy. You don't know who initiated what, but you knew something had changed in the air.

Before long, you started having doubts about the whole ordeal. You knew that, going into this, you were dating a professional footballer. You knew how their schedules got, how busy they were, especially someone like Alexia. Their time at football didn't just stop at practices and games, it was meetings, shoots, media events and so on. Alexia had weaved around her appointments to be able to see you regularly, but it had started to feel like she was slipping away a little.

Christmas was around the corner, your favorite time of year. Work had died down tremendously, understandable seen the ranges were outside. No one was interested in freezing their asses off playing some golf around this time of year. But from time to time, you had some customers that came in for a drink. You had gotten through most of your workday on Monday afternoon, when suddenly your phone chimed with a message.

From: Ale ⭐️ Hola, chica. Are you at work? I'm passing by soon. Wanna say hi. :)

You smiled at your phone, the message perfectly encapsulating what had drawn you in about Alexia. She was so sincere, she made you feel like you were genuinely important. She went out of her way to see you, even if it was just for an hour, she would move her shoot and shorten her time for the media just so she could grab a coffee with you. That's why the lack of romantic connection between the both of you confused you. There were a handful of times where you felt like you were going to take the first step, but you didn't want to push her into something that you weren't sure whether she wanted. She had opened up to you about how hard she found it to manage a relationship with her career, so the last thing you wanted to do was force one onto her. That's the reason why you decided to let her come to you, but months had passed now and nothing happened. The two of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm of seeing each other weekly, catching up over a coffee or a film in either's apartment, but the midfielder seemed content with the situation you found yourself in right now, and it had started frustrating you to no end.

On one side, you assumed that it would be better to cut contact. You had to admit it, you were falling for Alexia and if you wanted to make sure you didn't get too hurt from the fall, you had to put yourself first and make an end to it. But you couldn't. Not when her strong arms engulfed you in a hug when she hadn't seen you for a week, not when you came home to your plushies meticulously arranged on top of your made bed as a thank you for letting her stay over the night before, and especially not when her lips softly kissed your cheek every time she wished you goodbye, eye contact lingering a little longer than you should, forever wishing she was kissing your lips goodnight instead of your cheeks goodbye.

You quickly rid yourself of your thoughts and sent Alexia a reply, not wanting to keep her waiting too long.

To: Ale ⭐️ Yeah, I'm at the range.

You didn't intend to be curt, but you had gotten worked up about the situation in your head and didn't feel like being overly nice to her right now. You finished up a bit of work and managed to answer a couple emails before Alexia's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pressing a kiss against the side of your head as you turned around and got up from your chair, meeting her embrace with one of your own.

"Hola," Alexia mumbled against the side of your face, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go of your body and placing her hands back in the front pocket of her hoodie. You took a moment to take her in. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was trying it's best to keep all her hair at bay, but a couple baby hairs managed to escape anyway. They stood up proudly on top of her head, almost mocking the rest of her hair that was tightly tucked away. She was dressed in a Barca hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants, keeping her safe from the cold wind outside that mercilessly nipped at every bit of skin it could find. Her face was covered in a thin layer of sweat, remnants of the run she was on before she stopped here. She looked adorable, really, and you could just about press down the urge to surge forward once again and hide your face in her neck.

"Hey you," you smiled, locking eyes with her. "Good run?" Alexia nodded, still trying to catch her breath, the difference in temperature making it harder to regain her composure, your work place a lot warmer than the outside. "Yeah, it felt good. Had training earlier but I felt like a run, so I was happy that my legs were working with me."

You chuckled, no longer surprised at Alexia's incredible work rate. She'd worked hard to be where she was, and there was no way that she wasn't going to keep her spot cemented up there with the big names in football. So with that thought in the back of her mind, she kept working hard every single day, even though she had proved herself and others time and time again that she was the best.

You tried to match Alexia's excited energy, but there was something inside you that didn't allow you to be as expressive with the midfielder as you usually were. Whether it was the thoughts you were having about your situation before she walked in, or something else, you couldn't quite pinpoint, but there was a tension building between the two of you and it didn't feel nice.

"That's nice, Ale," you sat back down on your chair and absentmindedly started doing a bit more of your work, not thinking much of it. You and Alexia had co-existed a lot of times in her apartment, you doing some work for school and her rewatching her games, but this time the Spaniard wasn't having it. "Oi!", you exclaimed, as you felt Alexia flick your ear. "What was that for?" you questioned, cocking an eyebrow at her as you turned your chair back over to her, her face sporting a crooked grin.

"Am I not interesting enough for your attention?" she said, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but you could sense the hint of disappointment in her voice. You cursed yourself internally for making Alexia think like that of herself. "No, Ale, I just need to get through some of this work here. I have a lot of emails to catch up with and seen as the range is quiet today, I was making good work of them," you tried to reason. "If you didn't want me to stop by, you could've said," Alexia quipped back, insecurity seeping through her voice. "No, no. It's not that," you said quickly, standing back up and grabbing one of her hands from her front pocket in yours. Alexia intertwined your fingers and you had to take a deep breath to compose yourself and to not get lost in the small display of affection the midfielder was showing you.

You meticulously picked out your next words, not wanting Alexia to feel like she's too much in this space right now. "I don't want you to feel like I don't want to see you, because I always do. You know that," you squeezed Alexia's hand and looked into her eyes, searching them for any sign of discomfort. "I was just a little busy. I'm sorry. I should've said."

Alexia pulled you into another hug, wiping away all the thoughts that were running rampant through your head. Right as you were sinking into her embrace, she pulled away. "No te preocupes. I'll let you finish up with the rest of your work. If you want to watch a film together later, call me. I'm free," Alexia pressed a kiss against your crown and left you to your own devices, stepping away from behind the counter gracefully stepping towards the exit of the building, picking up a jog right before she turned the corner and made her way back to her apartment.

You stood there for a couple moments, registering what just happened. Things always went like this. Alexia would show you some signs of affection, you'd get lost in it and pick everything apart about the small interaction in your mind for the rest of the evening. You didn't know what else you could do to make it clear to her that you wanted her. You'd voiced multiple times that you felt good around her, how you felt about the two of you, but it just seemed like she wasn't able to see through what you were saying. You tried to rid yourself of the insecure thoughts that were creeping past the walls of your mind and busied yourself with more admin work for the rest of the afternoon.

That night, you didn't call Alexia. You had a free night, but you didn't spend it cuddled up with her on the couch, like you had done often the past couple weeks. You and her would pick a film and get way too close to each other throughout it, before you inevitably fell asleep with your head on her lap, always disappointed the morning after when you woke up in her bed, alone. You appreciated that she carried you to bed, but you wanted to be with her. Not alone in her room, sheets cold on the other side, door ajar with the possibility of her joining you, but it never happened.

As much as you tried to distance yourself from Alexia, you couldn't. You didn't let yourself, but it was also nearly impossible with how the midfielder clung to you. You loved it, really, but you'd loved it more if you knew why she wasn't bridging the gap that was so, so clear between the two of you.

Christmas Eve. A day you'd grown to love over the past couple years. You didn't have particularly good childhood memories about the day, but ever since you were able to make your own plans for the festivities, December 24th had quickly become one of your favorite days. For the last couple years now, you and your friends had built the little tradition of going to one of your houses and celebrating it there. Everyone that attended made a dish, whether it was starters, main or dessert, and you all enjoyed the company with good food and a couple glasses of good wine. This year, though, you'd all agreed on having it in Barcelona. Your friends didn't want to pass up on the opportunity of seeing you, but they also really wanted to experience Barcelona in all its glory during the winter months. You couldn't blame them. If there was one thing you loved about these couple weeks, it was how nice the city was decorated. Christmas lights adorning every street lantern, Christmas trees littered throughout the city and the soft chime of Christmas music waltzing through the air.

You'd gone out of the way to decorate your aunt's apartment that was yours for the week, her going back to England to celebrate all of it with your family over there. She'd promised you she would give them all many hugs from you, a small side of yours still gutted about the fact that you wouldn't see your family, your mum for Christmas this year. But you knew, surrounded by your friends, you'd have an incredible night. This year, though, you all agreed that plus ones were welcome. You thought it was only fair that if they had to come to Spain, their partners were allowed to come too. That said, though, it seemed like you were the only one without a plus one. It wasn't really something that bothered you, having been single for quite some time now, but you would be lying if you said it hadn't been on your mind the past couple days. Your friends and their partners were out exploring Barcelona before they had to come to yours, and you couldn't help but dread the fact that you couldn't join them with a partner of yourself. Your thoughts dialed back to Alexia, seemingly inevitable, and you figured the least you could do was text her and wish her a fun Christmas Eve.

To: Ale ⭐️ Enjoy your Christmas Eve tonight, Ale. 🧡

You added a little finishing touches to your dinner table, meticulously arranging all the decorations that were on it as you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.

From: Ale ⭐️ Thank you, amor. No plans tonight, though. I have training tomorrow morning and we aren't very big on Christmas Eve in our family

Despite the nickname driving you wild, your shoulders fell visibly as you read Alexia's message. You couldn't imagine not having plans on Christmas Eve. A thought crossed your mind and you acted upon it before the flurry of confidence got lost on you.

To: Ale ⭐️ Wanna join us? There's a couple friends and their partners coming over. We're just having a big dinner. Nothing too crazy. If you want, I'll drive you home for training tomorrow? :)

You quickly turned your phone back off and shoved it back into your back pocket, already nervous about Alexia's reply. You busied yourself with a couple final preparations to the snack plates you made, that being your part of the food tonight. You gave your table and food one more look, deciding you were satisfied with how everything looked before you made your way over to your bedroom and picked out the outfit you'd bought for tonight.

You were shopping in Barcelona on your day off last week when your eyes fell on a elegant-looking black jumpsuit. You realized that you didn't have an outfit yet for Christmas Eve, so the choice was made for you, and a couple minutes later you left the store with an extra bag hanging from your hands. You showed the piece of clothing to Alexia through a picture over text, and she voiced how beautiful she thought you would look in it. It was a simple compliment, but it'd warmed you inside and it had you thinking about how it could've been had you guys decided to start a relationship somewhere during the last few months. You could've spent the holidays together, buying each other presents, wearing matching pj's, watching Christmas films on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. But despite all the flirting and teasing, nothing had happened between the two of you, and you were here in your bedroom, alone. Before you could sulk any further, you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.

From: Ale ⭐️ Oh, eso suena bien. Are you sure? I don't want to intrude on your night with your friends.

You chuckled at her concern, and typed a quick reply.

To: Ale ⭐️ Yes, I'm sure. I'd love to have you with us here. Vendrán a las 7, pero puedes venir un poco antes si quieres :)

You tried your best to form a coherent Spanish sentence, knowing Alexia liked it when you made an effort to try and speak her mother tongue. She'd let it slip one time that she found your accent attractive, and ever since then you'd attempted to learn a bit more in your free time. A quick glance at the clock told you the time was nearing 6, so you waited for Alexia's reply and then quickly jumped in the shower.

From: Ale ⭐️ Perfect. I'll be there. See you soon. x

The jumpsuit fitted you perfectly, hugging and accentuating your curves in all the right ways. You put on a light touch of make-up, not wanting to go overboard but you liked to add a little extra touch to your look on days like these. You made your way back downstairs and lit some candles, trying to set a warm and homely scenery for your guests later. You put on a soft Christmas playlist and took a step back to admire your work, infatuated by how cosy your place looked right now.

You'd turned off all the big lights and replaced them with your cosy mood lightning throughout the apartment, casting your place in a golden glow. The shadows of the candles you lit were dancing all over the ceiling. Your Christmas tree, which you had spent hours on last week trying to decorate it to your liking, was tucked away in the corner of the living room, its twinkling lights shining bright. The dinner table was decorated lightly, adding a couple red and white details to the table decoration. There was a mistletoe hanging from the arched entryway from the dining area to the living room, and you couldn't help but think about the possibilities it could bring later on. The light scent of cinnamon and peppermint hung in the air, courtesy of a couple scented candles Alexia had gifted you last week. She'd recently learned just how much you liked the holidays, and wanted to give you something that you could use in your place. She wasn't big on it herself, her and her family never having made a big deal out of it, so for her to go out of her way to pick something up for you, meant so much more to you than she could imagine.

The soft hints of music waltzing through the air really finished off the perfect picture, and it's safe to say you were more than satisfied with the way your apartment looked right now. The time was nearing 6:45 and you knew Alexia would be here soon, followed suit by your friends in the following 20 minutes. Right on cue, you heard a knock on your door.

You could feel your heart skipping a beat, but you tried to ignore it. You wiped your hands on your jumpsuit and tried to regain your composure by taking in a deep breath, before making your way over to the door in a couple quick strides and taking a look through the peer hole of the door. If you were nervous before, you surely were now. You couldn't quite see all of it, but the outfit Alexia was wearing had already left a dry feeling in your mouth. You caught yourself staring and shook your thoughts, stepping back and opening your door, revealing the Spaniard in all her glory. She was wearing a pair of black suit pants, combined with a white blouse that she left opened at the top. Her hair was straightened and fell down her shoulders, a welcome change to the ponytail and headband she usually had in when you saw her. You didn't see her in something else than her sporty attire that often, so every time you did, she always managed to take her breath away. As if her outfit wasn't enough to throw you off balance, she was holding a a big bouquet of red roses in her hands. The look on her face told you that she knew this outfit would've pulled a reaction out of you, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss the goofy grin off her lips.

"Ale," you breathed, "Hey. You look incredible," you said, taking a step back and allowing her space to enter your apartment. She turned back towards you and shamelessly checked you out, letting her eyes rake over your jumpsuit-clad body before she met yours. "Hear who's speaking. You look amazing," she said, inching closer to you and pressing a lingering kiss against your cheek. You didn't fail to notice the way her hand wrapped around your waist for a second, the skin on your lower back burning where she had just touched you. "Aquí, para ti," she said, holding out the bouquet in front of her. "You didn't have to do this, Ale, you know-," "Shh, don't worry. You invite me, so I bring you something."

A blush coated your cheeks as you took the bouquet from her, placing it down on the counter while you looked for a vase. "This looks nice, you've done a good job on decorating," Alexia said, her voice ringing through the apartment as she explored your living room. You lifted your head from the cabinet in which you found a vase that would suit the flowers, and shot her a smile. "Thank you, I spent quite some time on it. I'm glad you like it," Alexia hummed and returned back to admiring your decorated apartment.

The night went on just as you'd hoped it would. Not long after Alexia arrived, your friends came up too. Long, heartfelt hugs were shared with everyone, suddenly realizing you'd missed them so much more than you thought you had. Alexia didn't need an introduction to any of them, but it's safe to say they were more than surprised when they realized she was your plus one for the evening. A lot of questions were thrown your way whenever Alexia was out of earshot, but you tried to quiet them down because the last thing you wanted, was to get upset about how everything with Alexia went down the last couple of months. You cut it down to "we're just friends," multiple times, but none of your friends could miss the tinge of disappointment that flickered through your eyes every time the subject got brought up.

Lots of good food and a little bit too much wine later, your friends started making their way back out. You'd offered for them to stay over, but they had all made a reservation for a night at hotels nearby. They were all flying back home tomorrow and they could use the rest before a long day of traveling. Alexia was lingering, and while you actually didn't want her to leave, you were also surprised. After all, she still had training tomorrow. With the clock nearing 12, you knew she was way past her usual bedtime. "Ale, you okay?" you questioned, the Spaniard busying herself with cleaning up your table. You frowned when she didn't reply, so you stepped in and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Alexia." "Hmm?" she mumbled, surprise clear in her voice. "Sorry, I didn't hear. What did you say?"

You chuckled and rubbed her shoulder affectionately before dropping your arm back to your side. "Are you okay? I know it's late, I thought you'd want to leave early because you have training in the morning," you said tentatively, not wanting to seem like you wanted her gone. "Ah, sí. Yeah, I should get going," the midfielder said, but you sensed she didn't really want to do that. "You don't have to, you know that. You can stay here too and I'll drive you to practice tomorrow. I don't have work this week and my aunt isn't here, it's not a bother to me."

Alexia's eyes lit up and you knew you had her. "If that's okay?" she asked again, wanting to make sure that she was not a bother to you. You nodded, offering her a big smile. "Yeah, of course. Don't worry. I'll get my bedroom set up for you."

Before she could muster up a reply, you'd already turned the corner and were making your way upstairs. Truth be told, Alexia had felt a little out of place all evening. She had fun, lots of fun even, but she could sense that the air between the two of you was charged with something she didn't like. In all fairness, she was jealous of your friends. They had all brought their partners and were spending their Christmas Eve all cozy and cuddled up with their lovers, while you two were still just going about things as "good friends". She was tired of dancing around the feelings she had for you, the feelings she was sure you had for her too. She wanted nothing more than to spend her days as your girlfriend, waking up together in your bed in the morning, spending your days together, you coming to her games and her coming to your work whenever you had the time. She didn't want to act like she didn't want you in a different way than she had you right now. It wasn't enough. And if it couldn't be, she'd have to cut contact with you.

Unbeknownst to her, you were thinking about her too in your bedroom. You made your bed and put out some clothes for Alexia to sleep in, and you couldn't help but think about how disappointed you had been that you didn't get to love up on Alexia like your friends were doing with their partners all night. A couple fleeting touches would've had to do, each one lingering a bit longer than the other, telling you that Alexia was clearly feeling the same way about the situation like you. Despite the obviousness of the whole ordeal, neither of you had succeeded in taking the next step. You were caught up in your mind, when suddenly an idea came up to you. The mistletoe.

You made your way back down and were surprised to see your dining table cleaned up. The kitchen was still quite the mess, but that was something you would tackle yourself tomorrow. "Thanks, Ale, you didn't have to do that. I could've helped you", you said, the Spaniard waving you off from her spot in the kitchen. "Don't worry, please. You invited me tonight and you're letting me stay here, the least I can do is help you with cleaning up."

You mumbled another quick thanks when she passed by you, making her way to the living room and plopping down on the couch. You wanted to follow her, but there was only one thing on your mind and you wouldn't let it go until you'd got what you wanted. You lingered between the dining area and the living room, very purposefully standing under your arched entryway where the mistletoe hung. You prayed to all the Gods that Alexia would understand the meaning of the Christmas ornament, but the dumbfounded look on her face when you didn't join her immediately told you otherwise.

"Come here, I want to cuddle," she stated. You wanted nothing more than to join her on the couch, to fall in her outstretched arms, but you stayed put, because what you really wanted was something so much better than a cuddle. It wasn't out of sorts for you to be cuddled up together on the couch, so she looked at you weirdly and cocked her eyebrow and head at you when you shook your head adamantly. "¿Por qué no?"

"Ale...," you breathed, vaguely gesturing towards the mistletoe hanging above your head. You didn't want to have to spell it out, missing out on the sincerity of the moment if you had to explain Alexia what you wanted. But you thanked your lucky stars when you saw Alexia moving up from the couch and making her way over to you in a quick few strides. Your luck ran out soon enough though, when Alexia halted in front of you but didn't make any further moves towards you. "¿Qué pasa? Why do you have twigs on your ceiling?"

At that moment, you wished that the ground would swallow you whole. You thought you finally were about to get what you'd been yearning for the past couple months, but much to your disdain, Alexia clearly didn't know what the mistletoe hanging above the two of you meant. You sighed and closed your eyes, taking a moment to ground yourself before speaking up. "Alexia, that's a mistletoe," you explained. "A what? Mistle... toe? What is that?" You sighed again and pinched the bridge of your nose, barely containing a laugh at the ridiculous situation you found yourself in.

"It's a Christmas decoration, Ale, and it-" "Ah, sí. It's nice," she finished her sentence and grabbed your hand, tugging you towards her and back to the couch, but you planted your feet in the ground. "Alexia," you said sternly. She looked at you with wide eyes, surprised at the tone of your voice. "Yes?" "It's a tradition that, when you're under a mistletoe with someone, that you have to... you have to kiss," you whispered the last word, almost not wanting to voice it out loud, scared that you might break the bond the two of you had been building up the last couple months. Maybe this wasn't what Alexia wanted at all, maybe she just wanted you as a friend and nothing more. Doubts started to creep in the longer the silence between the two of you stretched, neither of you making a move. "Oh...," Alexia mumbled at last.

You looked down at your feet, playing with the rings that clad your fingers. "Yeah," you breathed, before braving a look at her. "I mean, we don't have to... it's just a silly tradition, really. I didn't mean to-," before you could embarrass yourself further while trying to turn the situation around, you felt Alexia's hands cupping your cheeks. She tilted your head upwards and took a step closer towards you, resting her forehead against yours. She closed her eyes for a second and breathed in through her nose, composing herself for a moment before opening her eyes again and locking them with yours. She brushed your bottom lip with her thumb before speaking up.

"Can I kiss you?" "Please do."

#woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #barcelona femini #barca femeni #barca femini x reader #spain wnt

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starboye · 3 days ago

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starring: alexander "konig" kilgore x male reader

request: just thinking about innocent naive reader getting corrupted and not even noticing a single thing because he just want to be a good friend. . .

warnings: smut + angst, yander!konig, kinda obsessive, handjob

konig was such a good friend to you, he would never do anything to hurt such a pretty thing like you and plus you were both best friends so nothing was ever kept a secret between you two, so imagine konigs' face when you announce you have a date with some guy.

watching his face crack into a soft smile and telling you how happy he is for you but behind those eyes he was mad as hell, i mean who does this new guy think he is to try and take you from him, and it gets even worse when you come back from the date the next night and tell konig about how you loved it so much with the biggest smile on your face.

as much as he wants to feel happy for you he just cant imagine anyone else stealing him from you so he makes up a lie "i don't know about him y/n" he blankly making you question him "what do you mean" you ask him "i just have a weird feeling about him" he continues looking at you with the most beautiful eyes "well what if you just get to know him" you try to give an idea but konig pipes up with "you know my gut feeling is usually always right"

and he was kinda right i mean there was that one time you had feeling for this one guy and it turned out he was actually arrested for murder, or at least that's what konig told you (he pulled some strings at the police station and got what he wanted) "well then yeah i guess i can stop seeing him" you say and within seconds konigs arms are wrapped around you and he's thanking you for trusting him.

and queue the constant run of you finding a good guy and konig coercing you to stop seeing them because he has a 'gut feeling' and you trust him, but really he just wants you all to himself, making you depend on him more and more as time goes on by telling you if you ever need help with anything to call him and you do, calling him for even the littlest inconvenience.

whether that be helping you fix something or letting you cry on his shoulder when you get layed of from your job (after he pulled a few more strings and made it seem like you were a bad employee) and offering you a room at his place since you were short on money and couldn't pay your bills.

with you moved in now he can be so much closer to you, sneaking through your things at any chance he could and whats this it seems like you need some new clothes since all yours seem to be gone (he used all of them to jerk off and now they're ruined with his cum) so he takes you to the mall, carrying all your bags as you go to every store getting all the things you want, but hm it seems you need some help trying on those pants why doesn't he help you.

"you sure you're okay with that" you ask him "yeah it's what friends are for" he says helping you but on the jeans that hugged your ass so well, it was no surprise he got a boner, it straining so hard in his pants he just needed some release "fuck baby i need your help" he groans "what's wrong konig" you asked and he moved your hand to the aching bulge in his sweatpants "please just this once" he pleaded and after some consideration you agreed, i mean it was just a one time thing between two friends right.

pulling his pants down his thick cock flops out and you immediately work on fixing it for him, his grip tightening on the top of the dressing room door, your hand rubbing back and forth on his achingly hard boner, this was like his dream, he had thought about this exact thing so much, jerked off to the thought and feel of it but the real things is so much better than he hand.

"fucking shit y/n" he muttered before cumming on your hand, thick load messing up your hand as he let out shuddering breaths, and after that it became a regular thing, konig being all needy and asking you to come help him get off since you did it best (in reality you weren't the best at it but don't worry he'll train you soon enough).

and time after time it seemed you liked it more and more to the enjoyment of konig, maybe just a few more times and you'll tell him how you've had feeling for him to right?

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac

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cheyisagirlkisser · 2 days ago

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nsfw. ellie fingers you on patrol to help with your cramps. 1.4k words.

Never in your three years of residency in Jackson would you ever predict this–Ellie’s fingers deep inside of you, stroking the soft, sweet spot swollen by your own arousal. You would never have been able to predict actually crying out for her touch, hips bucking up to meet her palm like it was nothing. It was truly everything, because this was never supposed to happen.

You and Ellie had a strong distaste for each other from the start.

You liked to go to parties and drink, be reckless during patrols, and (at least attempt to) sleep with anyone who you thought was even slightly fuckable. Ellie was a wallflower, so maybe her distaste for you was plain jealousy. For you, your dislike for Ellie was much more than just something solvable with a little chat.You really resented her, and maybe it was because she actually made you feel things.

It was just another patrol like the rest, Ellie being quiet around you, and you refusing to make your usual conversation. Ellie was the only person you didn’t chat up a storm with when it came to these long patrol shifts, this one even lasting two days and requiring a camp set-up. If the two of you had really thought it through, you would’ve been more careful. Two people who have that obvious and yet annoyingly oblivious tension? It should’ve been predictable.

It started with the growing of blood in your underwear. The perfect time to be on your period, huh? You only let out a little huff to which Ellie ignored, setting off into the forest to put on a pad. When you returned, it was like fate that hit you, much like a lightning strike. Literally a strike of pain in your lower stomach signifying cramps to come, and on the one patrol you before to bring a bottle of Ibuprofen on.

You laid in your sleeping bag in pain, not wanting to even complain to Ellie, as much as you were the whining type. It’d be real nice to have someone to listen to you express how badly this cycle was, how your body was doing you dirty. You weren’t expecting Ellie to speak to you first.

“You okay over there?” not the usual irritated tone she liked to use with you, but not the most empathetic. Just slightly softer, but that was a mercy due to the strain in your relationship.

“Cramps.”

“Just take an ibuprofen and lay on your side.”

“Gee, thanks. I would’ve never thought to do that,” you bit, making Ellie glare. “I don’t have anything on me. I forgot I was close to my period.”

“Damn,” a not so sympathetic, and possibly indifferent curse from her.

“Yeah, damn is right. I feel like I’m being stabbed in my uterus repeatedly.”

Silence went on for a few more minutes, but it was visually obvious that you were in a lot of pain. Despite her dislike for you, she didn’t like seeing you suffer. There was a small flutter of empathy deep inside her that made her suggest something she probably shouldn’t have.

“Physical stuff can help cramps, you know.” Quiet, and yet the implication was clear.

“You mean like..sex?”

“Don’t think of it as actual sex, obviously. Just me helping you.”

“If we do this, we aren’t having sex. I’m not moaning for you or telling you how much I want you, so don’t expect that shit. You’re simply giving me an orgasm, and then it’s done.”

“Agreed. No kissing, and as soon as you..finish, we stop.”

And it started just like that, as sexual act of non-sex.

Ellie didn’t warm you up with neck kisses or sloppy love bites like your usual partners did, and partially, you were glad. This was just supposed to be an orgasm, and you didn’t need to like each other to appreciate a good orgasm, right? A simple pain reliever. Anytime your brain would bleed with thoughts of Ellie doing those things for you, however, you’d block them out as soon as they entered into your mind. The imagery was more difficult to get out of your head, though. Just simply picturing her plush lips trailing over your neck, breath ghosting over…

You snapped out of it, and just focused on trying to cum so that this would end, and you and Ellie could go back to hating each other.

One finger slipped inside of you, and you bit back a gasp. You were wet enough to take it without much at all, and you hoped Ellie just assumed that was just because of your period and not actually because you were turned on.

Ellie started out slow, just rubbing your g-spot with her finger, providing some direct stimulation. It made you realize how different the act of sex itself was from sex with all of the other stuff. The teasing, how your typical couple would build up the moment to make it the best possible experience. That wasn’t what this was, though. So, why were you biting your lip to stifle moans when Ellie slipped in another finger into your increasingly wet hole, and even padded over your clit with her thumb?

Your head was spinning, and you were starting to lose your focus on just having that orgasm, the aid to your cramping. You were already too distracted to think about the pain, too focused on trying your hardest to pretend like Ellie’s calloused fingers curling into your pussy wasn’t the hottest thing you’ve felt in a while.

Ellie didn’t complain when you instinctively bucked your hips up into her touch, and she had to try really hard not to lean down and kiss you when the occasional moan slipped past your lips. She couldn’t blame you, it was a natural reaction.

So, why was it that you were now begging for more when she curled right up into your sweet, tender spot?

“Ellie,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering open to meet hers. The scrunch of her nose that was usually present when you were around faded away, and her eyes were lidded, her lips parted slightly. A delicious, rosy tint set across her freckled face.

“Is it helping?”

“Please. Please, fuck me..just like that, I need it,” you begged, making her stomach do summersaults. It couldn’t be helped, though. Ellie took note that you shed off a little bit of your dignity when she slid her fingers slightly out and shoved them back into your hole, just to slam into your g-spot. She liked the way you sounded, the way your usual walls built around her crumbled when she fucked you good. Even though she didn’t (or at least tried not to) care to observe you enough, she noticed that you were different when at parties dancing with random people, more inauthentic. Something was ironically beautiful about the rawness to your voice that hit hard when she did something particularly mind-blowing to your pussy.

A mix of blood and your juices were dripping down her knuckles, and she really wanted to taste you. It would probably be something she would regret later, but Ellie decided to sate herself with a soft kiss to your lips instead. She felt warm and tasted like the rations from earlier, but you kissed her back fervently. The needy sounds coming from your throat were swallowed by her own mouth.

The orgasm that hit you was mind-blowing enough to aid with the cramps, but that wasn’t what you were focused on. Instead, it was the way Ellie’s tongue coaxed your lips apart, and the scent of her hair against your nose when she buried her face into your neck to taste your pulse. You felt every tremor run through you like lightning, and it was unlike anything anyone else could give you. It wasn’t forced, and the passion there was real. You actually felt something with her.

As you came down however, the moment dissolved into awkward silence and the careful removal of Ellie’s fingers from you. You swallowed, holding back your words. You wished to forget it all now, not because you wanted to deny it ever happened, but you were scared of what it meant if you got attached to someone in Jackson.

Just like that, it was over, and you and Ellie didn’t go quite back into disliking each other dynamic but rather an awkward limbo. You left that patrol and spent the next few weeks sleeping with people, pulling all-nighters trying to make yourself feel what you did on that patrol, but you never could find the same peak in every single category of feelings that Ellie gave you.

#ellie williams #tlou2 #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #the last of us part 2 #ellie smut

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zhelin-thames · 1 day ago

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A Growing Circle of Bats (wrong number)

Read the previous posts to know what happend before Masterpost

Danny was sitting cross-legged on his bed, sipping a soda while reading over one of Tim’s million texts about ghost technology. Jason had texted earlier to warn him that “Tech Boy’s enthusiasm can be dangerous,” and Danny was starting to believe it.

Then his phone buzzed with a message from yet another new number.

Unknown Number: Hey, are you Danny?

Danny groaned, setting his drink down.

Danny: ...Yes? Who’s asking now?

Unknown Number: I’m Dick. Jason and Tim wouldn’t shut up about you, so I thought I’d say hi.

Danny blinked.

Danny: Wait, let me guess. Another one of the Bat-family?

Dick: Guilty as charged. I’m the oldest, so I have to make sure Jason and Tim aren’t harassing you too much. They’re... persistent.

Danny: That’s one way to put it.

Dick: So what’s your deal? Jason said something about ghosts and a billionaire villain?

Danny: Ugh, yeah. That’s the gist of it. My life is basically one long supernatural sitcom, featuring a half-ghost me, an undead billionaire weirdo, and a lot of property damage.

Dick: Sounds wild. Do you ever get a break?

Danny: Not really. Ghosts don’t exactly take vacations.

While Danny and Dick were chatting, Tim and Jason were having their own conversation.

“Did you seriously give Dick Danny’s number?” Jason asked, staring at his phone.

“Why not?” Tim replied, not looking up from his laptop. “He’s part of the family. Besides, Danny could use more normal conversations, and Dick’s the most sociable.”

Jason snorted. “Dick’s about as ‘normal’ as a flying acrobat who fights crime in spandex can get.”

Back on Danny’s end, the conversation had taken an unexpected turn.

Dick: So, are you into acrobatics? Or martial arts?

Danny: Uh, I mean, I’ve fought a lot of ghosts. Does that count?

Dick: Definitely. Fighting’s a skill. Jason said you’ve got powers too?

Danny: Yeah, I can go intangible, invisible, and shoot ectoplasm. Oh, and I can fly.

Dick: Flying? Okay, I’m officially jealous. That’s way cooler than grappling hooks.

Danny: It’s not all great. Flying makes you a bigger target when you’re fighting people who can fly too. Or when you’re dodging ghost lasers.

Dick: Fair point. But still, flying’s gotta feel amazing. Have you ever raced anyone?

Danny grinned at the question.

Danny: Not really. But I think I’d win. I’m pretty fast.

Dick: Challenge accepted. If we ever meet, I’m racing you.

Later that evening, Jason’s phone buzzed with a group chat notification.

Group Chat Name: Danny Phantom Appreciation Club

Members: Jason, Tim, Dick, Danny

Danny: What is this?

Tim: A group chat. Easier than texting us all individually.

Jason: It was Tim’s idea. Don’t blame me.

Dick: Hi, Danny! Welcome to the club.

Danny: You guys are insane.

Jason: And you’re stuck with us now, Little Ghost.

Danny: Why do I feel like this is the start of something terrifying?

Dick: Because it probably is. But we’re fun terrifying.

Danny: ...I’m doomed, aren’t I?

Tim: Yep. Welcome to the family.

Danny couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. For all their chaos, the Bat-family was growing on him. Maybe having them around wouldn’t be so bad after all.

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helioooss · 3 days ago

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isolation caved in, i adore you; the sound of your skin

synopsis: you and minjeong get caught up in a dating scandal — all along, she realises she has been in love with you.

warnings: flufffff

w/c: 3k+

a/n: another short story…it’s 2:30am and i couldn’t really sleep.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the faint buzzing of your phone on the nightstand jolted you awake, the sound cutting through the quiet of your small apartment; the dim light from the screen cast shadows across the room as you reached for it, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

minjeong’s name lit up on display, accompanied by a string of missed calls that made your stomach twist with unease.

she never called like this, not unless something was wrong.

“hello?” your voice came out rough, still thick with sleep, as you pressed the phone to your ear.

there was silence for a moment, save for the faint sound of her breathing on the other end. you sat up straighter, the worry bubbling up in your chest.

“mindungie?” you tried again, softer this time. “what’s going on? are you okay?”

her reply was a shaky inhale, followed by a soft sniffle that made your heart drop. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “i didn’t want to bother you.”

“you’re crying,” you said, your voice laced with concern. “don’t apologise, i’m here.”

another pause, heavy and suffocating. then, in a voice so small it was almost inaudible, she said: “i’m in another dating scandal.”

your chest tightened at her words. she had faced scandals before — being in the public eye in one of the most popular girl groups in the world meant she was no stranger to baseless rumours and invasive speculation but hearing her cry over it was completely new.

“what’s sm doing about it this time?” you asked, already trying to piece together a plan in your head. “aren’t they handling it?”

“they want me to take a hiatus,” she said bitterly, her voice trembling. “alongside my recent surgery; they think it’s the best way to let things settle, but it’s not just about me this time. it’s affecting other people…people who don’t deserve this.”

your heart ached at the frustration in her voice and the way she sounded so defeated. you hated this; hated how the world wouldn’t leave her alone, wouldn’t let her live without dissecting every moment of her life.

“it’ll settle down,” you reassured gently, even though you weren’t sure if you believed it yourself. “it always does. people will move on to the next thing soon enough.”

“not this time,” she mumbled, her voice quieter now, tinged with something close to despair. “this one’s different.”

you frowned, the weight of her words sinking in. “what do you mean? who are they saying you’re with?”

there was a long pause, the kind that made your chest tighten with dread. you could hear her breathing, uneven and shallow, as if she was trying to muster the courage to answer.

finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “you.”

the word hung in the air and for a moment, you weren’t sure you’d heard her correctly.

“me?” you repeated, making sure you heard correctly.

“yeah,” she said, letting out a bitter, shaky laugh. “they’ve got all these photos…ones from when we were kids and some from the last time i visited busan. they’re saying we’ve been secretly dating for years.”

your mind raced as her words sank in. you thought of all the moments the two of you had shared, ones that were so innocent but now felt heavy under the weight of her confession.

the time she’d visited you at the restaurant, laughing as she stole bites of your food; the long walks along haeundae beach, where she’d tease you about how much slower you’d gotten since you were kids.

moments that had always felt like yours alone — twisted into something you hadn’t prepared for.

“that’s ridiculous,” you replied firmly, though your voice wavered just slightly. “they’re just making things up like they always do. anyone who knows us would know it’s not true.”

“it’s not about what’s true,” she added, her voice breaking again. “it’s about what they can make people believe. and they’ve done a good job. it looks…convincing.”

your stomach twisted at her words, the dread settling deep in your chest. “have you looked at it?”

“yeah,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “and it’s bad. really bad.”

you clenched your jaw, anger and protectiveness bubbling up inside you. “minjeong, you know none of this matters, right? the people who care about you, the people who know us, you — they won’t believe it.”

“but it’s not just about me,” her voice trembled. “it’s about you, too. they’re saying things — terrible things about you, digging into your life. our lives in busan. i didn’t want this for you.”

you’d always known the risks of being close to her, of staying a constant in her life even after she became a star but you never imagined being dragged into her world like this; exposed in a way that felt so violating.

“i don’t care what they say about me,” you insisted, though the knot in your stomach told a different story. “what matters is you. we’ll get through this. we always do.”

she let out a shaky breath, her voice softer now. “please don’t look it up,” she begged. “it’ll only hurt you, and i don’t want that. promise me, please.”

the curiosity was already gnawing at you, but the desperation in her voice was enough to make you falter.

“i’ll try,” you answered eventually, though you weren’t sure if you could keep that promise. “but you’re not alone in this, okay? you don’t have to carry it all by yourself. and you’ve done nothing wrong.”

she didn’t respond right away, but you could hear her breathing slow slightly, as if your words had brought her even the smallest bit of comfort.

“can i come over?” she asked after a moment, her voice small and tentative. “i’m back in busan for a week or two.”

“of course,” you said without hesitation. “you can stay as long as you need.”

“thank you,” she whispered and for the first time since the call started, her voice carried a faint trace of relief. “i’ll be there in a minute, see you, y/n.”

“okay,” you hummed with a smile. “be safe.”

when the call ended, you set your phone down and leaned back against the headboard, staring at the faint glow of the streetlights outside your window. your mind was a storm of thoughts — worry for her, anger at the situation…and a quiet, nagging fear about what this would mean for the fragile boundary you’d built between friendship and the feelings you harboured for years.

as much as you hated to admit it; a small selfish part of you felt the weight of her words differently. they thought she was in love with you. and no matter how false the rumour was, it struck a chord in you that you tried to bury a long time ago.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the small kitchen was quiet except for the soft clink of the spoon against the teacup as you stirred the honey into the warm chamomile tea. the warm light above the stove cast a faint glow on the countertop, highlighting the steam rising from the mug.

on the side, you’d set out a small plate of chocolates — the mint chocolate ones she always liked. it wasn’t much, but it was all you could think of in the middle of the night, your hands moving on autopilot.

your mind drifted, as it often did when it came to her. minjeong. winter. her name alone carried a weight in your chest that you’d grown used to over the years but never quite knew how to handle.

you have loved her for as long as you could remember, though you’d never dared to say it out loud — not to her, not even to yourself most days.

it was easier to keep it buried, to cherish the friendship you had without risking everything by wanting more. but now, it felt like the fragile balance you’d built was falling apart.

this scandal, these rumours — they were forcing everything to the surface and it terrified you.

what if she believed it? what if she looked at you and saw the truth you’d been hiding all this time? worse, what if it ruined everything?

the thought of losing her was unbearable.

resting your hands on the counter to steady yourself, you heaved out a sigh. the fear clawed at you; relentless and unyielding. you didn’t want her to think there was any truth to the rumours or make her feel uncomfortable around you. all you wanted was to protect her.

your gaze drifted to your phone on the counter, the curiosity too strong to ignore. she’d begged you not to look, but your fingers moved before you could stop them, typing your name and hers into the search bar.

almost instantly, the top result caught your eye — a youtube link with over a million views. the title read: aespa winter and y/n: secret love through the years.

your stomach dropped as you hesitated, then tapped on the link. the video began playing, a soft piano melody accompanying a slideshow of photos.

the first few were ones you recognised: pictures from your childhood, back when you and minjeong were just kids running around the streets of busan; they were harmless, ones you’ve shared to the public.

then came the more recent ones and your breath hitched. you didn’t even know where the fans had found these photos, but they all told the same story.

the two of you, close and comfortable, looking at each other like no one else existed. in every frame, your gaze lingered on her like she held the universe in her hands.

and then came the details — the matching necklaces, the ones you’d ordered from japan for her 21st birthday, customised with her initials and a small star charm. the video even included clips of minjeong talking about you in interviews, her voice warm and full of affection as she called you her rock, her safe place.

it was overwhelming and your chest tightened with a mix of emotions — fear, longing, guilt. you hadn’t realised how obvious your feelings were, how much they’d been captured in fleeting moments you thought were private.

you closed the video quickly, the knot in your throat threatening to choke you. you couldn’t let her see the truth, not like this.

a sudden, soft knock at the door startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. your heart jumped as you turned towards the sound. wiping your hands on your toy story pyjamas, you walked to the door and opened it slowly.

there she was.

minjeong stood in the hallway, her small frame wrapped in an oversized hoodie, the sleeves hanging past her hands. a black hat and mask covered most of her face, but her red and swollen eyes were unmistakable.

she looked utterly exhausted and before you could say a word, she stepped inside and crashed into you, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she buried her face in your shoulder.

her body trembled as she started crying again, her muffled sobs breaking whatever composure you’d managed to hold onto.

“i’m so sorry,” she choked out between breaths, her voice cracking. “i’m so, so sorry.”

you froze for a moment, overwhelmed by her sudden closeness, but then your arms moved on instinct, holding her tightly.

“hey,” you whispered, your voice soft and steady, though your heart was racing. “it’s okay. you don’t have to apologise.”

“it’s not okay,” she sobbed, her words coming out in gasps. “you don’t deserve this and i don’t know how to fix it.”

you closed your eyes, resting your chin gently on the top of her head. “we’ll figure it out,” you reassured, your voice firm despite the storm inside you. “you’re not alone in this. i’m here.”

she clung to you like a lifeline, her sobs slowly quieting as you held her and closed the door behind you. the scent of her floral shampoo filled your senses, grounding you in the moment. you didn’t know how long you stood there but you didn’t care. all that mattered was her and the promise you’d made to be there, no matter what.

when she finally pulled back, her face was flushed, her eyes red and puffy. she wiped at them with her sleeve, looking small and vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache.

“thank you,” she murmured, her voice hoarse. “for everything.”

you shook your head, offering her a small, reassuring smile. “you don’t have to thank me, mindungie. just…come sit on the couch. i made us some tea.”

her lips twitched into the faintest of smiles; trailing behind you. her presence filled the space with a warmth that was both comforting and heart-wrenching.

as you handed her the cup of tea and watched her take a small sip, you couldn’t help but wonder how long you could keep the truth hidden — how much further you could pretend you weren’t in love with her when every moment like this made it harder to breathe.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the cup, her favourite one; chipped and its colours fading, now sat on the coffee table as she curled up at the far end of your small couch; knees drawn to her chest, her oversized hoodie drowning her small frame. the moonlight streamed through the half-drawn curtains, bathing the room in a soft silver glow.

you just sat beside her, unsure how to navigate the weight of her silence.

finally, she broke it. “i don’t care what happens to me,” she said softly, her voice trembling just enough to make your chest ache. “but you…i’m worried about you.”

you blinked, taken aback. “me?” you said, your voice quiet. “you don’t have to worry about me.”

“how can i not?” she replied, her eyes locking with yours, wide and filled with worry. “they’re going to dig into your life, say horrible things about you. i can’t stand the thought of you getting hurt because of me.”

you sighed, leaning back against the couch. her concern was touching, but unnecessary. “minjeong, i’ve lived my whole life being just another face in the crowd. no one’s ever cared enough about me to say anything, let alone horrible things. i can handle it.”

“you don’t know what it’s like,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “you don’t know how cruel people can be when they think they know your story.”

“maybe i don’t, but i know this much: i can handle petty comments from strangers. what i can’t handle is seeing you like this. so don’t waste your energy worrying about me, okay?”

her lips trembled and for a moment, you thought she was going to cry again. instead, she looked away, her blonde hair falling messily into her face.

“you’re too kind, you know that?” she began softly. “sometimes i think you’re too good for me.”

you wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her words, but the vulnerability in her voice stopped you. before you could respond, she turned back to you, her gaze hesitant. “can you…can you hold me?” she asked shyly, her voice almost timid. “just for a while?”

your breath got caught in your throat, but you nodded, shifting closer to her on the couch. she leaned into you, her head resting against your shoulder as her body relaxed against yours. you wrapped your arms around her gently, feeling the warmth of her against you and the steady rise and fall of her chest.

the moonlight caught her features, highlighting the soft curve of her jaw, the delicate slope of her nose, the way her messy blonde hair framed her face.

even like this — tired, vulnerable, with tear-streaked cheeks and swollen eyes, she was breathtaking.

your fingers found their way to her hair, running through the strands gently and you felt her sigh against you, a soft, contented sound that made your heart ache.

“sometimes,” she murmured, her voice muffled against your hoodie, “i wish i wasn’t famous. i wish i’d chosen a normal life, stayed here in busan. with you.”

your heart squeezed at her words, but you forced yourself to keep your tone steady. “you were meant to be a star, minjeong,” you said softly. “you’ve always been destined for it. even when we were kids, you had this…this light about you. people were always going to notice.”

“but i didn’t want them to notice this,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness. “i didn’t want them to hurt you.”

you didn’t know what to say to that, so you stayed quiet, your fingers continuing their soothing rhythm through her hair. her words, though, lingered in your mind, intertwining with thoughts you’d been trying to suppress all night.

what would it be like, you wondered, if she truly felt the same way about you? if the rumours weren’t just rumours but a glimpse into something real?

you’d spent so long convincing yourself that she was out of reach — that her world was too far removed from yours for anything more than friendship.

what could you even possibly offer her? your simple life, a tiny apartment and a small restaurant?

there was nothing about you that could ever impress her, nothing that could compare to the glitz and glamour of her world.

and yet, here she was, leaning against you, seeking comfort in your arms. it felt too good to be true and you hated the way your heart clung to the moment, desperate to believe it meant something more.

“what are you thinking about?” her voice broke through your thoughts, soft but curious.

you froze for a moment, your hand stilling in her hair. “nothing.”

she pulled back just enough to look up at you, her face still close enough that you could see the faint shimmer of tears in her eyes. “don’t lie to me,” she muttered, her tone gentle but insistent. “you’ve got that look on your face, like you’re a million miles away.”

you hesitated, unsure how much to tell her. your mind raced for an excuse, something lighthearted to distract her, but the weight of her gaze made it impossible to lie.

“i was just…thinking about us,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “about how different our lives are. and how…how lucky i am to still have you in mine even though you’re a big star now.”

her expression softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw something flicker in her eyes; something you couldn’t quite place. before you could dwell on it, she leaned back into you, resting her head against your chest this time.

“you’re not lucky,” she smiled. “i am.”

her words settled over you like a blanket, warm and comforting, yet heavy with meaning. you didn’t know what to say, so you stayed silent, holding her with your eyes closed as the moonlight bathed the room in its quiet glow.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the soft chirping of birds filtered through the open window, mingling alongside the morning sun spilling into the room. the first thing you noticed as you stirred awake was warmth — minjeong’s warmth, her body pressed close to yours, her head nestled against your shoulder, an arm draped across your waist and her soft breaths tickled your neck.

you froze, your heart immediately racing as the situation fully sank in. it had been years since you’d been this close to her — the space you’d carefully maintained between you was gone and the intimacy of the moment made your chest tighten with equal parts longing and fear.

as your eyes fluttered open, her blonde hair was the first thing to greet you, falling into her face in strands that glowed golden in the morning light. her cheeks were slightly flushed, lips parted ever so slightly as she remained lost in sleep. she looked peaceful, so beautiful.

for a second, you let yourself admire her.

then reality hit and panic crept in. this was too close, too much. you couldn’t risk her realising your true feelings as you carefully shifted, trying not to wake her, but your movements caused her to stir.

her eyes opened slowly, blinking as they adjusted to the light. when they focused on you, a soft smile tugged at her lips.

“good morning,” she mumbled, her voice still laced with sleep.

“morning,” you replied, your voice awkward and stiff as you immediately shifted away, creating a small but noticeable gap between you. “sorry. i didn’t mean to, uh, get so close.”

her smile faltered slightly, her brows knitting together in a small frown. “why are you apologising?” she asked, her tone soft but tinged with confusion.

“i just…i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you sat up, rubbing the back of your neck; heart still racing. “i’ll make us some breakfast.”

before she could respond, you were already on your feet, making your way to the kitchen. she sat up slowly, watching you with a look you couldn’t decipher.

“let me help,” she offered, already starting to move.

“no, no,” you said, turning back to wave her off. “just sit on the couch, okay? i’ve got this.”

she hesitated but eventually relented, settling back onto the couch with a small sigh. pulling out her phone, she began to tap at the screen, though her gaze kept drifting back to you as you moved around the kitchen.

she wasn’t texting anyone, though — not really. instead, she found herself scrolling through the same photos and videos she’d seen the night before, the so-called “evidence” of your supposed relationship. each image showed the two of you at different points in your lives, some familiar, some she didn’t even know existed. but it wasn’t the photos themselves that caught her attention — it was you.

the way you looked at her in every single one of them. it was so obvious now, in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to notice before.

your gaze was always soft, filled with something she couldn’t quite name but felt deeply in her chest. she stared at one photo in particular, a candid shot of you smiling at her during one of her almost weekly visits to busan. the look in your eyes made her heart flutter.

it can’t be, she thought, her heart beating faster as she lowered her phone — but the thought lingered, refusing to leave. she glanced at you, watching as you moved around the kitchen with practised ease, cracking eggs into a bowl and chopping green onions with quick motions.

the smell of something sizzling in a pan soon filled the room and she couldn’t help but think about how natural this felt; waking up to you, watching you prepare breakfast as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.

you were so focused, so determined to make everything perfect for her and the thought made her chest tighten.

her phone buzzed in her hand, a message from jimin lighting up the screen.

‘are you sure you and y/n aren’t dating?’

she ignored it, setting the device aside as her attention drifted back to you. her thoughts were a mess, swirling with confusion and a strange kind of hope she wasn’t sure how to name.

you turned then, catching her gaze, and the world seemed to still. her heart skipped a beat as you smiled, holding up a plate.

“breakfast’s nearly ready,” you smiled, the warmth of your voice spreading all the way to her chest. “hope you’re hungry.”

she nodded, her throat feeling tight as she tried to push down the growing emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

“i am,” she managed to say, her voice softer than she intended. “also sleepy.”

and as she watched you turn back to the stove, the realisation hit her all at once, unrelenting and undeniable.

i’m in love with her.

the two of you sat at the small dining table, plates of warm, steaming food in front of you. you made made simple dishes — scrambled eggs, leftover rice and grilled mackerel with a side of kimchi.

it wasn’t extravagant, but she ate it like it was a gourmet meal, a soft hum of satisfaction escaping her as she took her first bite.

“i missed this,” she said, her voice muffled slightly as she chewed. “your cooking, i mean. it’s so much better than anything i get in seoul.”

“don’t let your manager hear you say that,” you teased, grinning as you poured her a glass of water. “they’ll think you’re living off convenience store meals.”

“i practically am,” she admitted with a laugh, her nose scrunching in that way it always did when she found something genuinely funny. “you have no idea how much i’ve missed this.”

the conversation drifted into easy territory, the kind of nostalgic reminiscing that always seemed to happen when you were together. you found yourself laughing as she recounted a time in middle school when she’d gotten detention for climbing onto the school roof to retrieve a kite you’d accidentally let go of.

you shook your head. “you were always such a shy troublemaker, how you ended up as an idol, i’ll never know.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” she shot back, mock-offended. “i’m responsible now. mostly.”

“sure you are,” you said, smirking. “remember your first boyfriend? what was his name again? jonghoon? jinhoon?”

“it was junghoon,” she corrected, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. “and we were, like, twelve. it doesn’t even count.”

“oh, it counts,” you said, leaning back in your chair with a grin. “you were so serious about him. always writing him those sappy little notes.”

“don’t remind me,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands. “i can’t believe i ever thought that was romantic.”

“hey, at least you had a boyfriend,” you said, unable to resist teasing her. “i’ve got nothing to compare to.”

she dropped her hands, her expression shifting into something more curious. “why is that, anyway? is there no one special in your life? i’ve been meaning to ask.”

the question caught you off guard, your smile faltering for just a moment before you quickly recovered.

“if there was, you’d be the first to know,” you said, nudging her foot under the table. “don’t be stupid.”

her expression softened at your words, a small smile playing on her lips, but you weren’t sure why.

trying to lighten the mood, you added with a grin, “though, if you give me jimin’s number, maybe i’ll reconsider.”

her reaction was immediate. her brows furrowed, and her smile disappeared as she stabbed at her rice with her chopsticks.

“you’re kidding, right?” she said, her tone sharper than you expected.

you blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift. “obviously,” you chuckled, but she frowned deeper. “come on, winter. it was a joke.”

“well, it’s not funny,” she muttered, her gaze fixed on her plate.

“why are you getting so worked up?” you asked, tilting your head to study her. “what’s it to you if i joke about jimin?”

she didn’t answer right away, her jaw tightening as she shoved a piece of mackerel into her mouth.

when she finally spoke, her tone was clipped. “it’s just…weird, okay? she’s not even your type.”

“oh, and you know my type now?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “you haven’t even see me with any girl.”

she looked up at you then, her eyes narrowing slightly. “yeah, i do.”

the tension between you was palpable, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. you weren’t sure what to make of her reaction — it was so unlike her to get upset over something so small. but then, as you watched her, the realisation began to dawn on you.

she’s jealous, you thought, the idea almost too absurd to entertain.

you decided to test the waters, leaning forward with a small, teasing smile. “minjeong,” you said, your voice light. “are you jealous?”

her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly masked it, looking away with a scoff. “don’t be ridiculous.”

“you’re jealous,” you said, your grin widening. “oh my god, you’re actually jealous.”

“i’m not!” she insisted, her cheeks flushing as she crossed her arms defensively. “it’s just—ugh, forget it.”

her reaction only made you laugh, the tension between you dissolving as quickly as it had appeared. she glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it, and eventually, she let out a small, begrudging laugh of her own.

“you’re impossible,” she said, shaking her head as she picked up her chopsticks again.

“and you’re adorable when you’re mad,” you said without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

she froze for a moment, her cheeks reddening further and you felt your own face heat up as you realised what you’d said.

but instead of snapping at you, she simply looked at you, her expression unreadable, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged again, heavy with something unspoken.

“just eat your breakfast,” she said finally, her voice softer now and you nodded, your heart still racing as you focused on your plate, wondering what, exactly, had just happened.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the next few days passed in a quiet rhythm that felt almost too perfect to last. mornings were slow and easy, filled with soft conversations over coffee and the occasional sound of minjeong humming to herself as she wandered around your small apartment.

afternoons were spent watching movies, cooking together, or simply lying on the couch; tangled up in blankets and each other.

it felt normal in a way that was disarming, like the two of you had slipped into a version of life where nothing else existed — no dating scandals and pressure, just the comfort of being together.

it scared you how easily you’d fallen into this routine, how much it felt like home. every small touch, laugh, every shared glance seemed to chip away at the walls you’d spent years building around your heart.

and with each passing day, it became harder to ignore the truth you’d buried for so long — you were still in love with her and being this close to her now was both a blessing and a curse.

for her part, she seemed quieter than usual, her gaze lingering on you a little too often, her smiles softer, more hesitant. she hadn’t brought up the scandal again, but you could feel the weight of it hanging over her, a tension that never quite left her shoulders.

one night, you decided to close things out with one of her favourite movies, tenet. she was practically giddy as she set it up, her excitement a stark contrast to the more subdued moments of the past few days.

“you’re going to love this,” she geeked out, her eyes lighting up as she settled onto the couch beside you. “it’s so clever. you have to pay attention, though.”

“you realise you say that about every confusing movie,” you teased, earning a playful shove from her.

two and a half hours later, the credits rolled, and you found yourself lying on your side, facing her. your arm was wrapped loosely around her waist, her head resting against your shoulder. the movie had been a blur of time loops and action sequences, none of which had made any sense to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

your attention had been more on her than anything else — the way her lips twitched into a small smile during her favourite scenes, the way she unconsciously leaned closer to you as the story unfolded.

“so,” she began, her voice soft and teasing, “what did you think?”

you groaned dramatically, tightening your arm around her waist. “i think i have no idea what just happened.”

her jaw dropped in mock offense and she pushed at your chest. “you’re kidding! how could you not get it? it’s brilliant!”

“oh, i got it,” you grinned. “something about going backwards in time, saving the world and…i don’t know, doing a little dance?”

“you’re impossible,” she muttered, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement.

“you’re adorable when you’re frustrated,” you replied without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them as you laughed.

her smile faltered, her cheeks flushing slightly as she stared at you, her expression suddenly turning serious.

the laughter that came so easily from you, the warmth of your skin pressed against hers — it all felt too much and not enough at the same time.

she didn’t know when it started. maybe it had been years ago, back when the two of you were just kids, chasing the tide and dreaming of futures that felt so far away. or maybe it was more recent, in the stolen moments when she would visit you between schedules, sitting in your tiny apartment and making her favourite dishes and feeling more at home than she ever did in her dorm.

but tonight, as the credits rolled and your soft laughter filled the quiet, it clicked.

it was you. it had always been you.

the realisation settled over her like a wave, overwhelming and undeniable. you were the missing piece, the thing she had been searching for without even realising it.

the void she’d felt for so long, the ache that no amount of fame or success could fill — it was simply you.

“y/n,” she said softly, her voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “what are we doing?”

your heart skipped a beat, her question pulling you sharply out of the playful banter. “what do you mean?”

“this,” she said, gesturing between the two of you. “us. spending all this time together, acting like…” she trailed off, her gaze dropping to where your arm was still wrapped around her. “acting like we’re more than just friends.”

you swallowed hard, your chest tightening as her words settled over you. “i don’t know,” you admitted. “but i know that i don’t want it to end.”

her eyes flicked back up to yours, wide and searching. “but what about everything else? what happens when i go back to seoul? what happens if people find out about this and they…they ruin your life?”

“minjeong,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. “my life isn’t perfect, but it’s mine. and if being with you means dealing with a little chaos, then so be it. i’ve handled worse.”

“you don’t understand,” she said, her voice faltering. “it’s not just a little chaos. it’s people prying into your life, twisting your every word, making you out to be something you’re not. you have a normal life, y/n. i don’t want to be the reason you lose that.”

you reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. “you’re not going to ruin anything and my life stopped being normal the second you walked into it. and there’s nothing in this world i’d trade you for.”

her breath hitched at your words, her gaze searching yours as if trying to find some hint of doubt. “but what if it’s not enough? what if i’m not enough?”

“you’re everything,” you said without hesitation, your words filled with a sincerity that left no room for doubt. “you always have been.”

her lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. instead, she watched you with so much adoration in her eyes and closed the small distance between you, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as hesitant as it was certain.

it was soft and gentle, like the answer to a question neither of you had dared to ask.

you responded instinctively, your hand moving to the back of her neck as you deepened the kiss, pouring years of unspoken feelings into the moment. her fingers tangled in your hair and her body melted against yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

when you finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, you could feel her breath against your lips, warm and shaky.

“i think…” she started, her voice trembling, “i think i’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

your heart swelled at her words, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “you’re not the only one,” you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. “i’ve hid how i felt for too long.”

“but we’re here now, aren’t we?”

a soft, watery laugh escaped her as she leaned in again, her lips finding yours in another kiss — this one deeper, more certain, like the beginning of something neither of you had dared to hope for.

and in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, it felt like the rest of the world could wait.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end.

#kpop x reader #kpop gg #aespa x reader #kpop imagines #winter x reader #minjeong x reader #winter #heliooosss #aespa imagines

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amourdivine · 2 days ago

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୨ ♡ ୧ THE LAST TIME THEY SAW YOU ୧ PAC

Hello my lovelies! Welcome to another pick a card. This reading is all about the last time you saw them! We will be looking into their feelings and thoughts, as well as channeling extra songs and messages from this person. Feedback, likes and reblogs help me grow my platform and are highly appreciated! If you liked this reading, please consider tipping me at @ [email protected] paypal! xo ♡

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› none of the images are mine unless stated otherwise. › personal readings are available!

HOW TO CHOOSE YOUR PILE. take a few deep breaths and look at each picture separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later!

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ༉ ‧

how were they feeling the last time they saw you? knight of swords ‧ eight of pentacles ‧ queen of wands ‧ the emperor ‧ eight of cups

Oh, this person was trying to look unbothered. Busy. They were trying to make it seem like they were completely over you and not at all tempted to take a leap towards you. They were holding back their fire, their impulsivity, holding onto logic and stoicism.

This person is proud, okay, really proud. They've got a big ego and along with it, a lot of self-denial, especially when it comes to their feelings towards you. It's almost as if they feel nothing at all, but this Emperor looks nervous, he looks fidgety, like he is trying to keep his hands busy and his eyes away from the Queen of Wands. Many of the messages felt very 18+, lol.

If they left the scene early, it's probably because of you. You made them feel off, you made them feel out of control, uneasy. This person's attraction towards you is no joke, but they're not ready to deal with those feelings yet. It's as if your presence is a hurricane, taking everything down, making them question everything they worked so hard to build. Jesus, pile one, I don't know what you've done to this person, but it has a very intense emotional and physical effect on them.

what were they thinking the last time they saw you? nine of wands ‧ five of swords ‧ four of cups ‧ page of wands ‧ seven of swords

They were focusing on keeping their feelings under wraps. Not only were their nervous, but also quite sneaky. Depending on who this person is, they may have been trying to look happy with other people, so moved on, all the while feeling miserable. If the two of you talked, they may have sneaked in a few white lies about how happy they were to meet you, how good they're doing, etc.

But mostly, their mind was all over the place. They kept trying to make themselves look cooler than how they really felt, planning how they were moving, who they were going to talk to... how they'd approach you, how they'd make you jealous or make you feel inferior. This person is extremely competitive - big ego, like I said. Whatever has happened between the two of you lingers a lot on their mind and leaves them feeling ungrounded, anxious and out of control.

If a fight happened between the two of you, that's what they were thinking of. They had all the comebacks, but held back from fighting. For most of you, they just wanted to rub their happiness, their joy in your face. Regardless of how much of a lie that actually is.

channeled songs and messages. she's so gone by lemonade mouth, liar liar pants on fire, champagne, best friends forever, necklace, silver, diamond ring, "she looks nothing like you", olivia rodrigo, beef, cindy lou who by sabrina carpenter.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ༉ ‧

how were they feeling the last time they saw you? seven of cups ‧ ten of wands ‧ death ‧ ten of pentacles ‧ four of wands

Gosh, they were overwhelmed inside, pile two. All the what ifs, the yearning and the missing you caught up to this person. They grieved the could've been... or perhaps they grieved what was, for some of you. Right then and there, they realized it may have been to late to fix things, to make them right again. Although they wanted to, they were too tired to bother. The sight of you was enough to bring back old memories, many of which they were probably trying to forget or get over.

A specific song came to my mind for this pile, called The Dress by Dijon. It tells the story of two people meeting up again after some time and they both seem to miss each other, still a little hurt from the breakup - but the feelings are not bitter, just sweet and intense.

For most, they felt a mixture of feelings. They probably didn't let you in on it, but it was there. Joy, sadness, hurt, anger. A lot of these emotions at once, which made them realize that they still hold out a candle for you. They still hope for something more, even if this connection is in limbo right now, their heart could not stop longing for more. There's a lot of fantasizing as well, which is why I'll get to the next portion of the reading!

what were they thinking the last time they saw you? the hanged man ‧ five of cups ‧ the devil ‧ the hermit ‧ ace of pentacles

They figured some time should go by until both of you heal some more before trying again. Honestly, this person may be intentionally giving you some space until the two of you can talk or have something more solid, more stable. They thought the wounds and hurt was too fresh, the regret still lingers and they still feel tied to these unhealthy patterns or behaviors that led to your demise.

If they treated you poorly, ghosted, rejected or even cheated on you, they deeply regret it. They may not have said it, but they're sorry for the way things turned out.

However, they want to heal. They're being more strategic about themselves, looking inward, trying to discover the aspects of them that probably unconsciously ruined this relationship. They seem pretty serious about leaving the past behind, to give it some time until the connection can be renewed. Maybe later down the line, when both of you are older, you'll be able to sit down and talk, once the two of you have forgiven your past mistakes and the regrets are not so heavy on their mind. Even if as friends, they wouldn't want to miss out on this opportunity.

channeled songs and messages. all too well by tswift, birthday candles, night time, silk dress, "stupid", 777, "i should have known", secret playlist, see you again, 405, train, bus, we meet by chance, pictures off the wall, country, folk, 00's pop.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ༉ ‧

how were they feeling the last time they saw you? page of swords ‧ nine of pentacles ‧ knight of cups ‧ the hanged man ‧ the moon

Feelings they tried to bury deep within have come out and made this person realize they really like you. They were curious - they wanted to know if you were single, if you were seeing someone... how you were doing. But gosh, they felt so insecure, indecisive and confused. This person has deep-seated fears when it comes to relationships that they may not let on.

They wanted to talk, to reach out, to ask you out. For most of you, this is an intense crush. They like you, they do, but they have self-sabotaging tendencies that stall them, that make them stay in one place and never move. Even if this Knight of Cups doesn't wish to, he moves away from the woman in the 9 of Pentacles, like he's a walking contradiction.

This person is not used to these feelings. They seem much like a small child discovering something quite obvious to everyone else but them. I hear Rubik's Cube by Athlete in my mind, you should definitely check out the lyrics if this reading resonates.

You make them question their sanity, almost. Not in a bad way, but you've intrigued them, haunted their heart because they have been trying to figure out why these feelings are there, just why they like and want you so much, but there's just no answer. You make them giddy, you make them excited, a little nervous and high up in the clouds. They just don't want you to know that yet.

what were they thinking the last time they saw you? the empress ‧ the moon ‧ two of pentacles ‧ ace of swords ‧ the fool

Quite literally, they could not stop thinking about your beauty. You stand out to this person even if you're not trying to. They just wanted to focus on something else, but their mind kept being drawn towards you, their eyes couldn't get enough of your beauty, your charm, how intelligent, whole and perfect you seem in their eyes.

No matter how they tried to control their thoughts, their hidden world came to the surface. They were forced to acknowledge that yes, they do like you and they might have to do something about it. To take a leap of faith even if it makes them look foolish, childish or stupid in your eyes. They knew they'll have to do it scared if they want to be with you, they'll have to face their fears and insecurities in order to be worthy of you.

They may have been weighing the pros and cons in their mind as well, but the answer was bravery, courage. The cards here suggest they want to do something bold, they definitely have thought about it long enough to realize coming towards you will be a big step, but the great start of an adventure for the two of you.

channeled songs and messages. start of something new by high school musical, late night nostalgia, november, december, aquarius, pisces, venus, libra, 2, 222, breakthrough, "out with the old, in with the new", new year's eve.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ༉ ‧

how were they feeling the last time they saw you? the world ‧ seven of swords ‧ the chariot ‧ two of wands ‧ ten of pentacles

I'm not really sure what kind of connection you may have with this person, but they were quite literally feeling on top of the world. They wanted to show off, they felt successful, accomplished - almost to an arrogant, overbearing degree - and surrounded by good things. They were likely wearing fancy clothes, being loud in the crowd, trying to catch everybody's attention, but especially yours.

It may not have seemed like they were trying to gain your approval because they seemed just so fine and comfortable in the spotlight, but secretly, they were hoping you'd look their way and feel that way about them: successful, well-known, well-read, handsome, accomplished.

Maybe they had a few too many drinks to begin with, or maybe they just partied too hard, but the feeling here is one of humble-bragging whilst simultaneously showering oneself in praise. It's quite interesting, to be honest, but the heart of the matter is that they were feeling good, looking good and they wanted to make sure you would see that. I wouldn't be surprised if this person hit on someone or several different people to try and make you jealous. The energy is not malicious, but extremely immature, f-boy almost.

what were they thinking the last time they saw you? queen of pentacles ‧ six of swords ‧ knight of cups ‧ five of pentacles ‧ five of cups

This is oddly specific, but, you probably didn't give them an ounce of attention. If you did, they didn't think it was enough. They took your actions as rejection, because you seemed so healed, so fine, so unbothered and joyful that this person could not help but think negatively afterwards.

Whatever their plan was, it didn't work with you. If they tried to play mind games, to sweep you off your feet and make you come towards them... it didn't work, so they saw themselves as some sort of failure. This person has a very fluctuating self-esteem, they seem to rely a lot on the opinions and actions of others to define their self-worth.

For whatever reason, they were hoping to gain your approval - but the fact they didn't get whatever they wanted from you made them pity themselves. They may have spent the night over-analyzing, moping to friends or to themselves about it, wondering why you didn't give them a chance, why you didn't look their way.

channeled songs and messages. "homeboy", friends with benefits, dior, crowded place, 666, rap, hip hop, freestyle, ice on my teeth by ateez, overspending, prada, diamond tears, big checks, blackpink, money by lisa, expensive perfume, menswear.

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DISCLAIMER. tarot is a divination tool, it’s not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i don’t take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings. be mindful ♡

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cowboybeepboop · 2 days ago

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Release

"Don't worry...I'll give you what you need baby.."

Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Your friendly coworker Clark takes care of your needs.

a/n: As always I hope you enjoy and send any requests you might have my way!

Clark is your annoyingly perfect coworker, you know the type: always on time, always right, never makes a single mistake, and never has a hair out of place, let alone a stained shirt.

Your irritation grows as you rub the coffee stain from your white button-down, thoughts filled with the idea that you’ll find him at his desk, right next to yours looking as *perfect* as ever.

It's been one thing after the next, first, you saw your long-time boyfriend cheating on you in YOUR apartment with your best friend, then some dumbass hit your car completely totaling it which leaves you taking the subway every morning attempting to be on time yet you always seem to arrive just five minutes late, and now your stupid shirt. Your favorite shirt.

It’s silly to think you’re fighting back tears over a $15 button-down when you didn’t even react to seeing the two most important people in your life raw dogging it on your sheets. Taking deep breaths you adjust your hair, flattening it down, and blinking away the tears that threaten to spill. At least you’re slightly on time, even if it meant leaving home 30 minutes before you'd usually even wake up.

Finally, you give up on the stain coming to terms with the fact that a slight brown tinge is better than being late *again*. You slip into your chair with a quiet huff, pinching the bridge of your nose as you gaze at the clock on the wall. Glancing to your side you see Clark, he's 15 minutes early, smelling like heaven, he looks sleek as always, without a single hair out of place.

Clark catches you looking at him as you huff and puff next to him, he tries not to chuckle at the frown on your face before he turns to you, friendly and unassuming as usual, completely oblivious to any issues you may have. He smiles his signature warm and charming smile.

"Good morning, you're here on time today, finally," he teases, his tone light and innocent, not realizing his words sound like a veiled jab when they fall from his lips.

You turn to him, eyes narrowed in an intense glare. "Mind your own business, Kent." You grumble, your usual (fake) friendliness gone like your ex-boyfriend. Focusing on the computer in front of you, you log on, scrolling through the endless emails.

Clark blinks awkwardly at your response, surprised by the harshness in your voice. He’s not quite used to you snapping at him, sure you have your moments but you’re rarely outright hostile.

He sits back, running a hand through his hair and rubbing the back of his neck, slightly perplexed about how to respond.

Clark hesitates for a moment, debating whether to address your change in tone. Clearing his throat, he tries to keep his tone lighthearted. "Um…is everything okay? You seem a bit, uh…”

He trails off, realizing that nothing he says will help his case and that you may actually bite his head off if he continues. So he shifts slightly in his chair instead, averting his eyes from yours as he pretends to focus on something on his computer.

"Look, Clark." You sigh, turning to him once again, tone much softer this time, "I don't need your pity, there's no need to pretend like you care." you slip out of your chair, heading to the break room to grab another coffee.

Clark raises an eyebrow at your words, his lips curving into a slight frown as he watches you go. He waits a few moments before silently following you, his steps almost soundless as he approaches you at the coffee machine.

He stands behind you, his presence quiet and calm, as he studies your expression before speaking.

"Who said anything about pretending?" He asks, his voice low and earnest.

You're standing on your tippy toes, attempting to reach the coffee on the top shelf of the cabinet. "Why would you care about me and my problems? We're *just* coworkers."

Clark swallows, feeling a pang of disappointment in his chest at your dismissive words. He leans against the counter beside you, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he contemplates how to respond.

"Just coworkers..." he mutters softly before sighing quietly, "Right."

He watches you struggle to reach the coffee for a moment, his hands twitching in his pockets as he resists the urge to reach out and grab it for you.

Clark can't tear his eyes away from the way your body stretches and extends with every effort to reach the coffee, the muscles in your thighs and backside taut and prominent as you stand on your tippy toes. It's an unconscious and innocent action, but it's affecting him more than he'd like to admit...

He clears his throat again, shifting his weight and trying to control the thoughts that begin to flood his mind. But as he watches you struggle once more, his restraint is slowly but surely beginning to fray.

"I'm sorry," you sigh, finally managing to grasp the coffee grounds. "I didn't mean it like that Clark." once back on flat feet, you look at him with a gentle expression.

The tension drains from Clark's shoulders as he hears your apology, his gaze softening as he looks down at you. He manages a small smile, the corners of his lips tugging upwards slightly.

"It's okay," he replies quietly. "I understand. You've clearly got a lot on your plate."

He can't help the way his eyes wander over your figure again, lingering on the way your body moves and molds with each movement. The words "I care" hang on his tongue, but he swallows them back down.

Once the machine starts brewing you lean against the counter, crossing your arms under your breasts as you let out a small strangled sigh. "I didn't mean to snap at you either. I've just got a lot going on.."

Clark's eyes track your movement, watching as you rest against the counter. His eyes seem to linger on the way your arms press against your chest before he manages to force his gaze back up to your face, his cheeks flushing from the heat that spreads through him.

"It's okay," he says again, offering a reassuring smile. "You don't have to explain yourself. I..I get it."

He hesitates for a moment, mulling over his next question before finally swallowing and asking, "Anything I can help with?"

"Not unless you're willing to beat up my ex-boyfriend for me," you chuckle dryly, eyes focused on the empty office. Being the two newest employees you're stuck with the early early morning shift.

Clark lets out a small, surprised laugh, the sound rich and warm. He leans back against the counter, mirroring your position as he grins at you.

"Tempting," he admits, his voice tinged with a hint of mischief. "But I think I'd rather help in more...legal ways."

You smile, finding his presence comforting and relaxing, finally putting your restless mind at ease. Your bare thigh brushes over his as you turn to grab a mug, the fabric of your skirt lifting up ever so slightly. "Well, I'll let you know if I can think of anything you can help me with."

The contact sends a jolt of electricity through Clark's veins, his breath catching in his throat as he feels your skin brush against his. He attempts to keep his reaction discreet, but the way his eyes widen slightly betrays his composure.

He swallows, his mind racing as his gaze drifts down to the exposed flesh of your thigh, the smooth skin on display making his thoughts whirl and pulse.

"Yes... Please, let me know," he manages to mutter, his voice thick with an undertone he hadn't intended.

"Want some?" you hold out the mug to him, noticing the way his gaze is trained on your legs, a slight flush creeping up your neck.

Clark is snapped out of his reverie as you hold the mug out to him, his eyes flicking up to yours for a moment before darting down to the mug in your hand again.

He clears his throat and reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours as he takes the mug. The contact sends another spark of electricity through his body, his cheeks flushing slightly as he quickly averts his eyes.

"Uh...yes, thank you," he stutters, trying to disguise the nerves in his voice.

You notice his strange demeanor, eyebrows furrowing as you fill your cup. "Now it's my turn to ask if everything is alright," keeping your tone playful, you gaze up at him softly.

Clark swallows again, his heart thudding against his chest. He shifts awkwardly on his feet as you question him, his mind racing to find a believable excuse, but failing miserably.

The way you look up at him with such soft, concerned eyes is making it even harder to maintain his composure.

"Uh...yeah, I'm fine," he stammers, forcing a smile. "Just...uh...just a bit tired, that's all."

"And here I thought you were always on the top of your game." you tease softly, reaching to put the coffee back up, sneakily adjusting your skirt so it reveals more of your body.

Clark watches you strain to reach the high shelf, a wave of guilt washing over him as he realizes he should have helped you get it down in the first place. He steps closer, his body now mere inches away from yours, his chest almost touching your back.

He reaches up and grabs the coffee, his arm brushing against yours in the process. The proximity is enough to send another shiver down his spine. He places the coffee back on the shelf before turning to you, his voice softer this time. "Next time, just ask for my help."

"Clark.." you breathe out his name, shocked by the electricity his touch fills you with. "I, uh, could've put it back myself you know."

Clark freezes, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of his name slipping from your lips. He could swear he was imagining the way you breathed his name, the way it sounded almost like...like a gasp.

He lets out a small huff, his lips curving into a half-smile. "I know," he says quietly, his eyes fixed on yours. "But I wanted to help."

"Mhm..." you murmur, gaze trained on his muscular body as heat rises in your cheeks. Your heart pounds in your chest, something about the way he touched you makes you heated.

Clark's chest tightens as he registers the way your eyes rake over his frame, his skin burning in the wake of your gaze as you take him in. He swallows, the sound seeming louder than normal to his heightened senses.

The subtle shift in your breathing, the hint of flustered color adorning your cheeks, the heat radiating from your body... all of it feeds into the growing tension between you two.

"Clark," you step closer to him, gathering all the confidence you can. "There is *something* you could do to help me..."

Clark's heart thuds harder, the closeness of your body almost intoxicating as he feels heat begin to pool in his gut. He inhales sharply, the scent of you clouding his senses as he struggles to focus on your words.

His voice is low and gruff when he responds, barely a whisper, "Anything."

"I want.." you take a steadying breath, "I want you." you press your fingers into his side, pulling his body closer to yours.

Clark's breath hitches as he feels your fingers press into his side, a shudder coursing through him as you pull his body against yours. He lets out a soft, involuntary moan as he feels the heat of your body against his, every nerve in his body on fire with need.

He looks down at you, his eyes wide and dilated, the last few remnants of restraint finally giving in. "Christ..." he mutters under his breath.

"There’s no one here right now," You bite on your bottom lip, knee sliding between his legs as you press against his groin.

Clark lets out a hiss, his breath hitching once more as he feels the heat and friction of your body press against his. The unexpected sensation of your knee between his legs sends a jolt of pleasure through him, his hips involuntarily bucking against you as he fights to keep control.

His voice is a low, ragged growl as he responds, "You're not playing fair.."

"I'm not.." you murmur, fingers moving to unbutton his slacks, "I never play fair,"

Clark's eyes widen in surprise as he feels your fingers on his slacks, his body frozen as he watches you undo them, freeing his erection from the confines of his clothes. The feel of your touch, the implication behind your actions, is driving him crazy.

He lets out a strangled moan, his breath ragged and irregular. "This...this isn't...we shouldn't be doing this here," he stammers, his voice lacking conviction as his eyes remain fixed on your hands.

"Exactly... That's what makes it so," you press a kiss to his jaw, "exhilarating"

The feeling of your lips against his jaw is enough to send Clark over the edge, any shred of restraint he had left evaporating into thin air.

He lets out a breathless growl, the sound thick and heavy with desire, as his hands reach out to grip your hips. His grasp is firm, the strength in his hands evident as he pulls you even closer to him, his body flush against yours.

"You...you're killing me.." he groans, the heat pooling in his stomach almost unbearable.

Clark's mind is reeling, the sensation of your smooth skin under his touch driving him crazy as he lifts you onto the counter, his movements surprisingly precise and controlled despite the whirlwind of desire coursing through him.

As he pushes your skirt up, revealing your bare thighs, he lets out a low, guttural sound, his eyes fixed on the sight of your body in front of him. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this..." he murmurs huskily, his voice strained with desperate need.

“Clark, please… I need you,” you whine, body aching with months of unfulfilled desire. Your ex never quite knew how to use those 4 inches.

Clark's breath hitches, his heart thudding in his chest as he hears the pleading tone in your voice, the sound nearly breaking him in an instant. It's doing something to him, to his ego and his emotions.

He leans in, his lips against your ear as he whispers, "Don't worry...I'll give you what you need baby.." he spreads your legs, pulling you to the edge of the counter, pressing his tip against your aching cunt.

Your face contorts in pleasure, the gentleness of his touch, the desire behind his eyes, and the idea of being caught, all of it is working to make you ache even more.

He slowly slides into you, moaning as your pussy stretches around his thickness. Clark keeps his thrusts slow, gently working his way deeper inside you, and your nails immediately dig into his shoulders.

“Fuck, fuck,” you’re intoxicated by his touch, “mm so big.” you moan needily, hole clenching around him. He groans, large hands moving across your frame as he finally bottoms out, his tip hitting the pleasure point in you.

“Is this okay?” He cups your face, pressing soft kisses to your lips as he gives you time to adjust.

Clark’s question hangs in the air as you both pant and tremble from the intensity of the moment. You nod fervently, your eyes never leaving him, the silent communication speaking volumes of your need. He takes that as his cue, his gentle touch turning to one of urgency as he begins to move within you.

His strokes are deep and deliberate, each one hitting that spot that has you clinging to him tighter, your moans growing louder with every passing second. The office around you fades away as you become lost in the sensation, your mind racing with the illicit thrill of doing something so taboo with your coworker.

His kisses become more passionate, his tongue claiming your mouth as he picks up the pace, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoing in the quiet space. The tension between you two has been building for months, a dance of wills and glances, and now it’s all culminating in this desperate, passionate embrace.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your heels digging into his firm ass, urging him deeper with every thrust. The break room becomes a cocoon of passion, the only sounds are your muffled cries of pleasure and his grunts of effort.

The friction between you builds a delicious pressure that demands release. You can feel him swell within you, his need matching yours. Your breaths become gasps, and your eyes widen as the first waves of orgasm crash through your body, tightening around him. "Clark...I'm gonna..." you manage to breathe, your voice shaking.

Clark's eyes darken with desire as he feels your orgasm approaching, his own need reaching its peak. He increases his rhythm, driving into you with a passion that surprises even him. "Cum for me," he whispers, his voice thick with need.

The sound of your impending climax is his undoing, and he lets out a guttural groan as he joins you, his hips bucking against yours as he fills you with his release.

The aftermath is a haze of heavy breathing and racing hearts, the realization of what you've just done slowly sinking in. You cling to him, your bodies still connected as the tremors of pleasure subside.

Clark's heart is still racing, his body shaking from the intensity of the moment, as he gazes at you, his fingers tracing gently across your face. He's silent, his breath ragged and labored, as he absorbs the enormity of what just happened.

The silence between you is thick and heavy, filled with the weight of what you both just did. Clark's eyes flicker between yours, a mixture of concern and wonder in his expression. Finally, he speaks, his voice rough and low. "Are you..are you okay?"

"More than okay," you murmur, dazed and utterly satisfied. "You're so good, Clark." you slide off the counter, standing on shakey legs.

Clark helps you steady yourself, his strong arms wrapped around your waist to support you as you make your way to the bathroom. He can't help but chuckle softly at your unsteady legs, a mixture of pride and amusement filling him.

Once you're both freshened up and presentable, he walks you back to your desks, his hand resting gently on the small of your back the entire way.

"Are you feeling better now?" he asks, his voice now smug, his eyes searching your face.

"Much, much better." you grin satisfied by his disheveled appearance. The perfect Clark Kent is barely able to concentrate on his work, his hair is slightly frizzy and out of place, and his shirt is wrinkled, all of it makes your stomach pool with warmth once more.

Clark can't help but chuckle at your satisfied grin, his cheeks flaring with a hint of blush as he realizes the state he's in. He reaches up to straighten his hair, only making it more tousled in the process.

He catches sight of his wrinkled shirt and wrinkled and he lets out a low sigh, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. "I look like a complete mess, don't I?" he says, a sheepish grin on his lips.

"A perfect mess," your tone is light, eyes full of admiration.

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solxamber · 2 days ago

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Hey, I love your writing! For the holiday event could I have Heartslabyul, 9 "How did you get up there?" Comedy, please? Happy Holidays!

Red-Handed || Riddle Rosehearts

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "How did you end up there?" ; Genre: Comedy

Riddle had seen a lot in his time as housewarden, but finding his significant other dangling from a rose bush like a confused koala was a new one.

“How...did you get up there?” he asked, voice cracking midway between outrage and sheer bafflement.

You, perched halfway up the bush with a paintbrush in one hand and red paint smeared across your face like a war cry, blinked innocently. "Uh. Surprise?"

“This is not a surprise," Riddle deadpanned, gesturing to your precarious position. "This is a liability. Explain."

"Okay, okay, hear me out," you started, balancing on a particularly thorny branch. "I thought it’d be romantic to paint the roses red before the unbirthday party! You know, like in the song. ‘We’re painting the roses reeed~!’"

“You do realize I have magic for this exact purpose, don’t you?”

You waved the paintbrush like it was Excalibur. "Sure, but is magic heartfelt? Is it personal? Is it—"

"Safe?!" he interrupted, pointing at the paint can teetering dangerously above your head.

"...Okay, yeah, maybe not."

Riddle took a slow, measured breath, the kind that usually preceded someone losing their temper or fainting. "How did you even get up there without magic?"

“Well,” you said, as if this were the most normal thing in the world, “I found a ladder, but then I accidentally knocked it over while reaching for the top branches. So now I’m, uh...kind of stuck?"

Riddle stared at you, his expression an even split between frustration and amazement. "Unbelievable. Just—stay still. Do not move, do not wiggle, do not breathe too hard. I will get you down."

As he summoned his wand, you called down, “Hey, you’re not mad, right?”

“I’m beyond mad,” he muttered, levitating the paint can first, just in case.

“Aw, but I was just trying to make you happy,” you said with a dramatic sigh.

He froze mid-spell, his eye twitching. "...Are you guilt-tripping me right now?"

“Is it working?”

"Absolutely not." But the faint blush rising to his cheeks betrayed him.

With a sharp flick of his wand, you floated gently to the ground, landing unceremoniously in a puddle of spilled paint.

“Okay, that wasn’t my best work,” you admitted, wiping at your face and somehow smearing more paint.

“You look like you lost a fight with an art supply store,” Riddle said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is exactly why I enforce rules.”

"Rules don’t account for love!" you declared, throwing your arms wide and accidentally flinging paint at a nearby hedge.

Riddle’s eye twitched again. "...Go wash up before I sentence you to replant the entire garden."

"Can I try again later?" you asked hopefully.

"Absolutely not," he snapped, but his lips quirked upward in the tiniest of smiles.

As you walked back to the dorm with him, still red from paint and embarrassment, you couldn’t help but think it was worth it just to see him try not to laugh.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #riddle #𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 holiday event

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paradiseprincesss · 1 day ago

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˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹 | Jonathan Crane

𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢.

𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 — Hello my angels! I haven't posted in a while & I was on a little writing hiatus due putting my mental health first, but I am slowly coming back to writing! I'm not sure when I will write another fic/have the time to, though! Also sorry in advance for any grammar errors as I barely proofread thiiiiiis!

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — Your mentor, Doctor Jonathan Crane, coerced you into making a sex tape as a means to keep you silent about what you saw, and for the night, you become a star on camera for him.

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 — 2.9k

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 -> 18+ ONLY DUBCON, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), creampie, sex tape, drugging, stockholm syndrome(?), blackmail & coercion

𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You stared at him silently from the bed, unsure what to say next. The atmosphere wasn’t tense by any means, but it was heavy. The air – the air was heavy. Jonathan silently stared you down in his suit, standing beside the blinking camera on a tripod.

This wasn’t your idea. You’d have never agreed if he hadn’t forced you to.

But somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if you’d made the decision long before he even mentioned it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Jonathan Crane was your colleague – or rather mentor. You had been offered a position to work under the renowned Doctor at Arkham Asylum at the beginning of your practicum last month, and although most people would shiver at the thought of working with the criminally insane, you jumped at the opportunity. This would most definitely advance your chances of getting a coveted job post-graduation, and you were willing to do whatever it took.

The last few weeks had been chaotic but thrilling; you’d shadow Crane around Arkham as he treated his patients and wrote down evaluations — whatever he was doing for the day. However, one evening, you went to his office to ask him a question you’d had, only to walk into a scene that caused your jaw to drop.

Lay slumped over on Jonathan’s office desk was a patient – patient #20373 to be precise – who appeared to be…not breathing. Your eyes darted from the patient to Crane himself, who was now rushing to slam and lock the door to his office behind you. You don’t quite remember everything that happened after that.

One thing you do remember though – and you doubt you’ll ever forget – is waking up in a cushiony room on a bed, groggy and half awake until Jonathan came into your line of vision. You tried to cry, or sob, or do anything, really, but your mind was going four ways and you couldn’t seem to process what was happening.

“Did you drug me?” You rasped with watery eyes, your hands reaching to your throat out of instinct.

“I did what had to be done. What you saw – what you think you saw…” He corrected himself, “I can’t risk anyone finding out about that.”

“I- Okay, I won’t tell anyone, just please–”

He shushed your panicked voice as he eyed you down the way a predator would do to its prey. “I want to trust you, I do — but I can’t.”

You watched as he stepped closer to you, and you noticed that even though you wanted to run, your body was seemingly too weak. Too heavy.

“I’m working on a clinical trial,” he informed you. “I’m observing the neurological patterns of patients exposed to their deepest, darkest fears. Unfortunately, like with all clinical trials, there are sometimes…flukes. Accidents. Some patients don’t react properly to the medication in the way we want them to. Dosage errors, genetic factors, allergies…the list goes on. What you think you saw was just that — a medical error.”

You tried to talk, but for some reason, you couldn’t – you were floored, to say the least. He seemed to take notice of this, and he cooed softly as he came to pet your head gently. “I know,” he feigned sympathy, “you must be so out of it.”

“What did you do to me?” You choked out, failing to swat his hand away from you. “How–?”

“A fast-acting sedative and a small syringe,” he interrupted, before letting out a soft chuckle. “Poor thing, you were out cold before your brain could even register what was happening.”

“You…God, you’re fucking sick.” You let out a choked sob as he smirked at you, clearly amused.

“I’d like to return to our previous topic of discussion.” His tone shifted back into his usual, clinical one. “Although I'm quite certain you won’t speak a word of what you saw earlier to anyone, I need something from you. Think of it as an eye for an eye — that sort of thing.”

Blackmail, you thought to yourself, he wants blackmail so that he can have something to hang over my head.

At that very moment, you noticed a camera propped up on a tripod in the corner of the room, causing your mouth to go dry.

“You– Doctor Crane, you don’t have to do this…” You almost whispered as a tear ran down your cheek at the realization of the type of blackmail he had in mind.

“Jonathan,” he corrected, “I’d like to believe we’re on a first-name basis by now, wouldn’t you?” He sighed, looking at you through his glasses with his steel blue eyes. You’d be lying if you said you never found him even slightly attractive, and sure…maybe you’d fantasized about him once or twice in bed all alone at night, but what you had in mind was different – innocent. It was just that; a fantasy.

“I–I don’t know what you want from me,” you stammered, feeling your stomach twist in knots.

“What do I want from you?” His voice dropped to a near-whisper. “Simple. You and I are going to make a little…project. Something personal. Something memorable.” You felt sick as you failed to form a response. “You’re awfully quiet, sweetheart. I thought you’d have more to say, perhaps even put up a fight.”

“You’re disgusting,” you spat, finding your voice again. “I’ll never—”

“You will,” Jonathan interrupted, his tone sharp and menacing. He smiled softly at you, a juxtaposition to his cruel, mocking tone from mere minutes ago, and he was eerily calm. “Because if you want to keep even a shred of your dignity, your reputation, your job, or your life—”

“Fine,” you panicked as he went on with the list and gave in as your voice dropped to a whisper, “just…just don’t hurt me.”

He smiled faintly. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He didn’t bother waiting for you to reply before moving the camera and tripod to the edge of the bed, watching you like a hawk to make sure you didn’t even dare to attempt to get up or do anything that would indicate you would try and fight back.

Once he set everything up, you looked at him with watery eyes, which caused him to feign worry and coo mockingly at you. He towered over you as he stood at the edge of the bed where you sat, and he took your face into his hands, forcing you to look up at him.

“I want to hear you talking dirty.” His words sent a chill down your spine, and even though you’d tried to break eye contact, he forced you to look at him once more. “I want to feel you put the work in.”

“Please—”

“I want to watch you entertain.”

You watched as he turned his attention back to the camera and tripod. He toyed with it momentarily before it made a small beep sound, and a flashing red light started to blink.

“Is it on?” Your voice noticeably trembled.

“Yeah, it’s on.” His voice was eerily relaxed.

Your hands were shaking – which you hadn’t even realized until now – and you nodded, unable to do much more. He didn’t say anything yet, but he looked at you with a menacing stare, causing your blood to run colder than it already was.

You weren’t even sure you had a pulse at this point.

“Strip,” he suddenly ordered, causing you to grimace. “Fucking strip.”

Scrambling on the bed with your eyes darting from the camera back to Jonathan, you do as told with trembling hands. Hastily, you attempted to rid yourself of your clothing before you choked on a gasp as you felt Jonathan yank you back by your hair with a harsh grip.

“Slowly,” he purred, knuckles going white with how hard he was gripping onto your hair, before letting go after what felt like a lifetime. “I want you to savour the moment you gave yourself up to me.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth – that, yes, you’d given yourself to him long before this moment. Not with your body, but with every line you let him blur until you could no longer tell where you ended, and he began.

You gave yourself up to him unknowingly when you caught him “treating” his patients with his fear toxin on countless other occasions and yet, you didn’t say a word because you were blindsided by how pathetically attracted you were to him.

This time, you just happened to get caught, and he acted on impulse, forcing you to surrender.

But this wasn’t really surrender. This was inevitability.

Once you were left in just your underwear, you were a shivering, doe-eyed mess. Although, it seemed Jonathan preferred you this way. “You’re such a good girl,” he cooed, hands coming to brush up against your neck gently. “God, you truly are pretty.”

His words were sickeningly sweet; as if he wasn’t keeping you here, forcing you to film a sex tape as blackmail for yourself.

But was it force when you’d handed him the reins so long ago, piece by trembling piece?

“You're so soft,” he mumbled, placing a delicate kiss on your cheek as he moved your hair out of the way, exposing your neck, to which he placed another kiss.

“...Jonathan, please.”

Your voice came out soft – quiet – and it had this tremble within it because you were free-falling. One moment he had you quivering in fear, and the next, he was the same soft-spoken, intellectual, kind mentor you had found rather endearing before all…this. Perhaps it was your mind playing tricks on you, maybe it was even a coping mechanism – but if it helped you believe that you didn’t somehow allow yourself to let him do this to you, then you welcomed that idea.

Psychology is interesting. Human behaviour is interesting.

“I know you better than you know yourself,” he whispered against your skin, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up as you shut your eyes. “Don’t lie to me — you love this. I’ve seen you snooping around my office, I know you’ve looked in my file cabinets…”

He continued speaking softly – not in a menacing way – but rather in a reassuring way, like he knew who you really were underneath this facade you put up. “I know that you know what I do within the walls of Arkham when nobody is looking — well, nobody except for you.”

“You’re so vile,” you whispered, leaning into his touch as you let his hands roam your body in front of the camera, not even attempting to deny it.

“You’re just as vile for letting me do this to you,” he nipped your neck, causing you to let out a startled moan. “You know whose blood is on my hands, yet you let those same hands touch you.”

The lines between sex, lies, and the ugly truth blurred in an instant as your hands found his shoulders. With a sharp pull, you placed your lips on his. Before he could react, you tugged him down onto the bed, the weight of him pressing against you like the inevitability of everything you’d already surrendered.

“Show me who you are,” he whispered, getting just enough distance between your lips in his to get the words out, and you didn’t need to be told twice.

You pressed your lips up against his once more, feeling him intertwine his hands into your hair this time around. Your nails dug into his suit as you desperately tried to tug him out of it, falling deeper into the unholy temptation that was Jonathan Crane. He continued to kiss you as you rid him of his clothes, and in between kisses, you straddled him as his hands found purchase on your hips.

You pulled back momentarily, glancing at him and noticing his glasses were slightly fogged up, but his eyes were still ever so blue through them. You smiled slightly before you started to unbutton his white, collared shirt that was under his suit jacket, while simultaneously trying to remove his tie fully.

Jonathan had no objections – he wanted to see how dirty you were willing to be. How filthy you would get on film…and that sparked an idea in his head.

Jonathan suddenly slammed you down onto the mattress within seconds, his shirt half undone and his tie hanging off his neck lazily before he was tugging your lace panties down your thighs. This was the moment that he decided even if he was supposedly blackmailing you, he needed to have his face buried in between your legs.

“Jonathan,” you panted, looking down at him between your legs, his brilliantly blue eyes now much darker. “Wh-what are you doing?”

He tossed your underwear to the side, offering no response before diving right in, devouring your cunt skillfully as his tongue darted through every single inch of you. You let out a sharp gasp before it turned into a moan. It was almost disgusting how good he was with his mouth.

“Fuck,” you whined, hips arching upwards so that he could taste all of you, down to the last drop.

“Delicious.”

His voice was muffled as he ate you out, savouring the taste of you against his tongue. He knew exactly what he was doing, but it was too late to try and save yourself now – not that you really made any attempt before because here you were; getting eaten out by a man who supposedly drugged you and forced you into getting fucked on camera but hey, it happens to the best of us...

He licked your folds, gently nipping on your thighs or pressing kisses to them, before diving back into you as he lapped you up. Soon enough, you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach starting to build up as he sucked your clit gently, causing you to let out a rather loud moan.

“I’m close,” you warned as your back arched off the mattress again, causing his grip on your thighs to become harsher, keeping you there. “God–”

He hummed in acknowledgement as you felt your release hit you all at once. He continued to eat you out as if you were his final meal until you were a shaking mess, begging him to give you a break as your legs shook.

Before you even had a chance to fully recover, you found yourself in yet another position he manhandled you into, this time face down ass up – and looking right at the camera. You heard his belt unbuckle from behind you before you let out a quiet gasp, feeling him line himself up with your entrance.

You were plenty wet at this point, so soaked you could certainly feel yourself dripping down your thighs. Jonathan pushed himself into you desperately, filling you up fully with one, quick stroke before his hands gripped your hips. Your eyes screwed shut as he stretched you out around his cock, slamming his hips into your ass as he fucked you into oblivion.

You babbled and moaned into the mattress as you felt yourself soak his length. He then grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to look at the camera with wide eyes and an already fucked out expression as he continued to plow you.

“Fuck,” he huffed, “you take cock like a professional. Atta’ girl.”

The way his cock was angled inside of you was perfection. It was that perfect mixture of pleasure and pain that made it feel so good when he was fucking you – ruining you – and rearranging your insides. You could physically feel every inch of him fill you and stretch you out around his thickness, pounding you until you lost your ability to think about anything other than him filling your holes twenty-four fucking seven.

“Jonathan,” you feverishly said his name before letting out a moan so pornographic, that it even caught Jonathan by surprise – a good surprise though, nonetheless. You continued to beg him to fuck you harder and harder, pleading with him for God knows what. “I need— nnghh – need you to fill me, yes—!’

“You’re a fuckin’ natural at this,” he gruffed, feeling himself edge closer to his release. “Look at you go, you’re such a slut, aren’t you, baby? Show the camera what a good girl you become when you’ve got my cock in you.”

“Mmm,” you drawled out a few more breathy moans before neither of you could go any longer.

Jonathan cursed under his breath before he filled you up with his come, stuffing you full of it as his thrusts slowed down. Simultaneously, you were clenching down on him as you drenched his cock with his hands still intertwined in your hair lazily.

You stared at the red light which was still blinking before Jonathan finally let his grip on your hair go, making you sigh with relief. He was still buried in your warm, wet cunt as you looked over your shoulder, silently admiring the way his blue eyes pierced through you. His hair was slightly dishevelled and you could’ve sworn his cheeks were a bit pink, but you were soon pulled out of your thoughts as he let out a soft, breathy laugh.

“You’re a fuckin’ star, babydoll.”

But the difference between a pornstar and you? They know what they’ve signed up for.

You on the other hand? You’re drowning in a role written for you, simply too blind to see who’s holding the pen.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x fem!reader #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane fanfic #dr jonathan crane #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane x fem!reader #jonathan crane x female reader #jonathan crane x y/n #doctor jonathan crane #batman begins #scarecrow x reader #the scarecrow

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spiderb00 · 1 day ago

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IS IT NEW YEARS YET

Megan Skiendiel X Reader

"After your ex broke up with you a month before Christmas, you lost your holiday mojo. Maybe you just needed to meet new people, a specific redheaded girl”

Genre – fluff Warnings – none fruitcake masterlist

Now playing – Is it new years yet, by Sabrina Carpenter

The feeling of impostor settled in you, as soon as you passed through the door of Lara's house you felt uncomfortable, strange with the environment. Being without the company of your ex girlfriend at parties like this made you feel awkward and out of place. You were never a very sociable person, of course, you were never rude, you just didn't like to leave the house so much. Whether you wanted to or not, your ex had helped with your shyness, always dragging you everywhere, but now, without her, you felt a little lost in the midst of people.

Lara was throwing a party, a small meeting. The commemorative dates were approaching and any excuse for a party was enough for Lara. You and the Indian girl knew each other for a long time, even before she went to Dream Academy, or bonded as Katseye's lead vocalist. Your friendship with Lara has always been strong, you have always supported the girl in everything, while she did the same with you.

When Lara found out about your breakup, she comforted and supported you, as always. She let you have your sad moment, but after a month, the girl did everything to take your mind off the girl who broke your heart before Christmas. When Lara called you to the party, you quickly tried to refuse, making up any excuse not to leave the house. But, when you saw that the red-haired girl wasn't going to give up, you agreed to go.

And now here you are, a plastic cup with energy drink in your right hand, as you sit in one of the chairs outside Lara's house. You knew most of the people at the party, all mutual friends of yours and Lara's, but after a while of talking and laughing, you decided it was time to be alone for a while, just you and your thoughts. Taking the lighter out of your back pocket, you were about to light a cigarette – one of the habits you picked up after the breakup – when someone approached you.

"Hi, do you mind if I sit down? There's a lot of noise inside." Asked a girl, she had red hair and was tall, not as tall as you.

"No, okay, go ahead." You said, putting away the cigarette and lighter before settling back into the chair.

Looking at the girl better, you could finally tell why she looked so familiar. It was Megan, Lara's bandmate. You haven't met all the Kats yet, but you surely recognize them from promotional videos, music videos, and in general. You thought the Chinese girl was beautiful, and you didn't think she could be even more beautiful in person.

"I'm Megan." The red-haired girl said, a faint smile on her face as she waited for you to introduce yourself.

"I know, I mean, I recognized you. I am Yn." You said, fumbling a little with the words.

"Oh, sure. You are Lara's best friend. She talks a lot about you." Megan says. "It's good to finally put a face to the name."

Laughing lightly, you nod. The night was quiet and although you wanted to be alone, the redhead's company was not bad.

"So why are you out here instead of enjoying the party inside?" The redhead asks, settling in the chair and looking directly at your face.

"Well, I could ask you the same question..." You say, making the girl laugh lightly. "Well, but I'm just here to clear my mind, you know."

"Oh, I get it, a lot of people also make me a little overstimulated." Megan says, nodding in understanding.

"Really?" You ask, the conversation flowing naturally. "How do you work? Why, you know... You kind of have to deal with a lot of people. Sorry if this is invasive..." You say, genuinely interested in Megan's words.

"It's not invasive." The girl says, laughing lightly at your concern. "I think I just got used to it, I love what I do, so it kind of becomes natural after a few years." She says, fiddling with the rings that were on her hand. "But I always have time for myself, and it's always nice to have someone who's always with you. The girls are my second family." Megan said. You noticed that the redhead's nose started to turn red, because of the cold.

"You seem very passionate when you talk about all this-" Interrupting your speech, a couple walks past you and Megan, both of them making out. As the guy sat in the chair next to you and the redhead, the girl he was kissing climbed onto his lap, leaving you and Megan dumbfounded.

"Is this serious?" Megan asked, as you stood up, holding out her hand to the shorter girl.

"Come on, I don't think these idiots are going to leave anyway." Standing up, Megan took your hand in hers, letting you guide her to the back door of the house.

"I think we'd better come in, Lara must be looking for us and you're shivering with cold." You said, taking off your jacket and putting it on the shoulders of the shorter girl. "Here, you can take that."

As you adjusted the jacket to Megan's shoulders, the redhead admired your face. Megan already knew who you were, in fact, she always asked Lara to introduce you to her, but that never really happened. Now, with you here in front of her, she couldn't miss the chance to make the move.

"Thank you, that's very sweet of you." Megan said, the jacket hanging loosely from her shoulders, extending to the middle of her thighs.

You and Megan finally entered the house, people talked, drank and others kissed in the corners, it felt more like a fraternity party than a Christmas Eve party.

"Megaann! I looked for you everywhere." A slightly drunk Daniela bumped into you, making you hold her by the waist.

"My God Dani, how much did you drink?" Megan said, approaching the Latina and checking if everything was okay with her.

"Yes, it's me-"

"Shiiiu, don't tell Megan I said that, but she's very into you." The Latina spoke, after interrupting you by placing her index finger on your lips.

"DANI!" Megan screamed, taking the girl from your arms and trying to walk her out of the house.

"Bye, Yn. Thank you for keeping me company, we're going." Megan said, trying to save herself from the embarrassment Daniela had caused her.

"Wait a minute, how are you going to take her like this." You said, holding the other side of Daniela as you walked with Megan.

"It's okay, I'll order an Uber or something."

"Let me take you." You said, making the girl hesitate. "Please, it's dangerous, let me help."

When Megan finally agreed, you helped her put Dani in the back seat of your car, starting and then driving to the Kats' house. When you finally got there, you both started struggling to get Daniela to bed, since the Latina hadn't made the work of the two of you any easier.

"Dani, you have to get out of the car." Megan said, pulling the blonde's arm as she held firmly in the passenger seat.

"NO, I want to stay longer and talk to Yn." Daniela said, pouting and getting a laugh from you.

Getting out of the car, you turned around and stood next to Megan, who was still clutching Daniela's right arm.

"Dani, I'm here. You can get out of the car and talk to me." You said, as the blonde looked in your direction and gave you a drunken smile.

"YN! My friend, Yn." The Latina jumped out of the car, leaning on you as she staggered towards the entrance of the house, causing Megan to roll her eyes and close the door of your car.

"Has Megan ever kissed you or what?" The Latina spoke directly to you.

"DANI! Be quiet, please." Megan spoke, fumbling with the keys to the front of the house.

When she finally managed to open the door, you helped the girl in. Daniela threw herself on the couch quickly, laughing lightly and closing her eyes soon after, not before singing a little to you and the redhead next to you.

"Yn and Megan, under a tree, kissing, la la la la la la."

Rolling her eyes, Megan watched the Latina fall asleep as fast as she had gotten drunk, and you thought that was your cue to go home, so you headed towards your car.

"Thank you for everything." Megan said, crossing her arms and hugging your jacket, which was still wrapped around her.

"It was nothing, if you need it, you know where to find me." You said, leaning against your car, and hesitating a few seconds before continuing. "So, is it true?"

"What is truth?" Megan's face became slightly confused.

"What Daniela said. You know what they say, drunks always say what they wanted to say sober." You said, getting a little closer to the redhead.

Biting her lip nervously, Megan looks down at the floor, before turning her gaze back to you again.

"What would you do if you were?" Megan asked, coming closer to you.

Laughing lightly, you pulled a strand of Megan's hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"You can return my jacket tomorrow night when I come by and take you on a date." You say, a smile painting your lips.

"yes, I think it can work." Megan said, returning your smile.

"Of course. It's not New Year's yet, we have plenty of time."

Hi guys, penultimate chapter of Fruitcake, I'm loving this series, but I really want it to end lol.

The truth is that I want to start finalizing and posting your requests, but things will work out

I haven't proofread it yet, so there may be some mistakes, I'm very tired bc my family is in my house.

xoxo, spider.

#katseye imagines #katseye x reader #kpop gg #gxg #kpop fluff #megan skiendiel x reader #katseye megan x reader #daniela avanzini x reader

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sailorrhansol · 2 days ago

Text

Santa Baby | JWW (m)

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is stuck working on Christmas Eve in hell on earth. You decide to pay him a little visit to cheer him up - and give yourself a good laugh.

Word Count: 1,400

Genre: Established Relationship

Type: Fluff, Humor

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: Cranky reader, children slander because the author (me) is a childless wench, some light suggestive talk at the end, explicit language, a single chaste kiss.

A/N: Merry Crimbus Malison Jederson. You wanted mall Santa and by god, I fucking wrote mall santa lmfaooooo please enjoy this borderline self-insert of what it’s like to experience the mall right before Christmas in that weird holiday-liminal space.

A/N 2: For @kkaetnipjeon's Haliday request

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Haliday’s Request Event

Christmas Eve at the mall should be illegal. It’s most certainly a hazard to your health as yet another family bumps into you with their handful of demons - children - nearly knocking you into the swing sign at Victoria Secret telling you to buy something so someone could unwrap you.

You would love for someone to be unwrapping you right now in the warmth of your home in the sheets that smell like laundry detergent and spicy cologne. The man who would do the unwrapping, however, is currently only available to the population of the world’s most hellish mall.

Which is why you’re in said hellish mall in the first place.

Christmas music blares over the speakers of the mall. The smell of grease and the distinct scent of cheese drifts from the food court. Your stomach rumbles, not for the burnt taste of Sbarro pizza but at the thought of going home and finally digging into a proper meal.

That will have to wait, though.

Smack in the center of the mall is a towering platform decorated like a winter wonderland. Occasionally, a snowblower from somewhere on the second floor shoots out foam, turning it into the North Pole proper. It earns a combination of screaming in delight and terror from the mostly-kid population waiting in line to walk up the metal catwalk to the top of the winter wonderland where Santa is waiting for them.

Sighing, you get in line, by-stepping a little girl covered in sticky candy cane residue as she runs from her mother, tears streaming down her face while screaming she doesn’t want a picture with tanta. Well, you’re not sure who tanta is but you can’t blame her, looking at your watch to see it’s nearly eight o'clock at night.

The line moves sluggishly slow. You shift back and forth on your feet, scrolling mindlessly through social media. The mother in front of you accidentally knocks your phone with her purse as she shifts one of her screaming children from one arm to the next.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, bouncing the baby in an attempt to soothe him. You wince. You get it - she doesn’t have it easy. “And sorry for his screaming.”

“That’s okay, I think it’s a requirement for kids to scream during the holidays. It’s like an instinct.”

She laughs. “Is this one yours?”

You look to where she’s pointing. There’s a child standing next to you with snot running down his nose and a grinch t-shirt on with several questionable stains. He looks up at you with big brown eyes, blinking and asking, “Dada?”

“No, definitely not.” You point to the father swiftly coming over to scoop the child, an apologetic look on his face. “That’s dada, buddy.”

“Dada,” the kid agrees, turning to reach his arms up as he’s scooped up and taken away from the line.

“Oh.” The woman in front of you frowns. “No kids? Just here to see Santa yourself?”

“Yes. I want to ask him to destroy all the Cybertrucks.”

“Oh.” End of conversation.

One less friend and an infinite amount of line to go, you flip through your work emails, cringing to see how many people think it’s appropriate to send you emails on Christmas Eve. Don’t they know you have a line to stand in for forty five minutes?

You think about asking Santa to send all your coworkers away like Kevin on Home Alone, but realize you’d still be expected to take on all their work. Maybe you should ask for the destruction of capitalism. That seems like a world-wide benefit.

Finally, the line moves forward significantly. The metal catwalk twangs underneath your boots. You lean on the greasy rail, listening to the musical styling of Mariah Carey as she earns yet another number on her paycheck as foam snow blows overhead.

In a weird way, it’s not terrible. You look around, drinking in the miserable families just trying to take a last second holiday photo, late shoppers scrambling to get the last of their presents before tomorrow morning, the kitschy decorations making up the mountain with Sana’s chair somewhere at the top.

You grin, feeling a sense of nostalgia as the line moves forward again. It might be an annoying way to spend your evening, but there’s no denying there’s a bit of magic in the air, even for capitalism Christmas. And Sbarro pizza.

Finally, you near the top landing. There are elf workers helping take photos and managing the line while Santa sits on a gold chair with velvet cushions. His robes are equally as red, nearly blending in with the seat save for the white beard and hair and the slightly askew glasses as the little kid in his lap knocks him in the head.

Coughing to disguise your laughter, you watch as Santa delicately removes the child from his lap and gives a hoarse ho ho ho before sighing and readjusting to accept the next family. He doesn’t see you in line, entirely focused on lifting up the little tyke in front of him into his lap to ask what he wants for Christmas.

The teenage elf working the line looks you up and down, raising her brow as she chews her gum. “How many?”

“Just me.”

“Oh. Ummm. Alright I guess. You get five minutes with Santa. Please don’t go over time. Your photos will be available at the kiosk downstairs. Take this ticket and they’ll print them.”

You take the piece of paper from her. “How much are photos?”

“Fifty bucks.”

“Jesus Christ, do I get to kiss him on the mouth too? Why is it so expensive?”

She stares at you before turning over her shoulder to see the family leaving. “I don’t make the prices. Your turn - and don’t kiss Santa on the mouth.”

Shoving the ticket in your pocket, you mutter under your breath that you can actually kiss this specific Santa all you want. The Santa in question turns to greet you, halfway through his greeting when he sputters,” Ho-ho- holy shit what are you doing here?”

“Wow, what terrible language, Santa Baby.” You grin, plopping yourself on his lap. Wonwoo nearly drops you as you do, but he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight. “You smell like cheese.”

“It’s the food court,” he mutters. “It won’t leave me, I swear.”

“Gross.” You adjust his glasses, heart fluttering. “You look cute.”

He does, in a weird way. Not because the giant suit and the beard and the hair are flattering, but because you know it’s Wonwoo underneath it all. Wonwoo who somehow got roped into covering for Mingyu as a mall Santa for the evening, Wonwoo who is a little bit overwhelmed by kids but eager to make them laugh anyway, Wonwoo whose grip tightens on you a little, eyes sparkling at your arrival.

“Do I?”

“No, but I like you anyway.”

“Alright, pose with Santa,” the photographer says.

Both of you ignore him as Wonwoo laughs. “So,” he hums. “Have you been naughty or nice?”

“Well, I drove an hour in traffic to come to this shitty mall and then fight for parking for another forty-five, got run into by a bunch of families, stood in line and got called dada or mama like four times, all to come see my boyfriend and make his night a little better.”

“Got it. Nice list.”

You brush stray white hair from his beard. “Definitely nice list.”

“Thanks for coming to see me.” He hugs you a little closer, softening. “It’s really sweet of you. I’m off in an hour.”

“Good. I’m hungry and I want to watch The Muppets Christmas Carol with my own personal Santa Baby.”

“Is that what’s on your Christmas list?”

“Yes. And for all the Cybertrucks to be destroyed.”

His laugh is jovial. You think Wonwoo’s laugh outranks Santa any day, full-bellied and cute. You feel your affection swell, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his lips despite the teenage elf telling you not too. Too bad she doesn’t decide if you get to kiss your boyfriend or not.

“Hey!” She yells behind you. “I told you not to kiss Santa!”

“I’ve gotta go,” you laugh. “I think I just made the naughty list.”

“I’ll see you at home?”

“Mhmm.” You think of the Victoria Secret sale sign. “Come unwrap me.”

TAG LIST

@ddaddunugu @ourkivee @tie-nn @cookiearmy@thesunsfullmoon @stray-bi-kids @ldysmfrst @thepoopdokyeomtouched@avochele @eoieopda @onlywon4u @hopeless-foolery@iamawkwardandshy @gyuguys @codeinebelle @ateez-atiny380

#wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo x reader #wonu x reader #wonwoo fic #wonwoo fanfic #svt fic #svt fluff #wonwoo x you #seventeen x you #svt x you #halidays

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thoughtfulfiction · 2 days ago

Text

The Game Plan

Author’s note: Merry Christmas Bolt fam🩵Still working on rewrites but I needed to write something new to get inspired. I am done with school so I’ll hopefully be able to get fics out more often!

Last time he was this nervous, he stood on shaky legs in front of a New York crowd accepting the William V. Campbell trophy. Public speaking wasn’t his favorite thing in the world and he hated talking about himself. But this was about a hundred times more important. And more nerve wracking.

When Justin suggested flying to your hometown to spend some time with your parents, you didn’t bat an eye. You’d been talking about making a trip back home after the season was over and were elated to discover that he was on the same page. Now that the time had come and you were looking at him as he drove the rental car to your family home, you couldn't help but think maybe he was regretting his decision. The man was constantly fidgeting in his seat, his grip on the steering wheel tight, eyes full of stress and semi concern.

"You okay?" You furrowed your eyebrows at him, urging your boyfriend to let you in on whatever was causing him such turmoil.

"What? Oh yeah no, I'm fine." He knew that sounded less than convincing. "It's just weird with the season being over. Almost like I have to learn how to relax again. This week will be good though."

Nodding in understanding, you place a hand on his leg hoping that the simple touch will ease his mind. Little did you know he was in the midst of a huge inner crisis. Justin rehearsed what he was going to say a few more times before pulling into your parent's driveway. Swallowing down his nerves, he grabbed your suitcase and his, walking toward the front door feeling like his legs weighed a ton each.

Your mom had already taken you away to the kitchen by the time he walked in, immediately lost in conversation about work and life while your dad grabbed one of the bags out of Justin's hands. The two men trudged up the stairs to drop off the bags, exchanging pleasantries and getting settled in before heading to the backyard to cook. Your dad loved Justin. He was the perfect partner for you, a perfect mix of fun/exciting and responsible/caring. He had seen you fall more and more in love with the quarterback over the years which made it easy to love him too. And getting to talk about football all day with someone who actually valued such intimate conversations about the sport helped.

All of the distracting small talk was out of the way, Justin had complimented your dad on his new grill and the improvements he'd made on the backyard and they had unpacked some of the nitty gritty details of the season and who your dad thought they should draft as perfect additions to the roster for the next season and the only thing that remained was the pit of nerves in his stomach that hadn't disappeared since boarding the plane.

"Something on your mind?" Your dad was observant, not really one to beat around the bush. He'd noticed a slight edge to Justin's voice since the two of you had arrived and was really trying to wait to give him some time. He'd obviously gotten too impatient. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Justin's had relationships before. Not many times, but he's felt security and love in other people, seeing a future with them and thought about what the rest of his life would look like. Being with you was not only the most serious relationship he'd ever been in but he found himself constantly planning for the future and setting his family up for long-term success, a family that he now couldn't envision without you. He swallowed thickly, suddenly overcome with emotion at the words that he needed to express to your father. "There is something on my mind actually," he clears his throat, trying really hard to maintain eye contact and not look down at the grill. "I wanted to come here first thing to ask you for your permission."

"My...permission?"

"Your permission, your blessing. Either one. Or both." Your boyfriend rambles on nervously, the words tumbling out of his mouth completely out of order and unlike anything he’d just spent time practicing.

Your dad still looks at him, confused. Justin sighs, "I love your daughter more than anything in the world. She’s the greatest thing in my life and I never thought I’d have the opportunity to be with someone so special. Now that I’ve gotten to be with her I don’t ever want to let her go and...it's really important for me to ask you before I propose."

In that moment it all begins to click and your dad nods. Here was one of the most calm and collected quarterbacks in the NFL stumbling over his words out of nerves because he wanted to ask for permission before getting engaged. A man who's build could arguably be compared to ancient Greek deities was a mere mortal when it came to you and it took every ounce of your dad's strength not to crack a smile. "You came all this way to ask me if you can marry my daughter. So you could do this in person?" The younger man nods. "Before I answer, can you promise me one thing?"

"Anything." Justin says without hesitation. He didn't care what he had to do, he just knew he was going to do it no matter what it took.

Your dad looks toward the house, watching you and your mom laughing while getting the sides set on the table. He looks back at Justin, eyes brimming with tears. "She is my greatest treasure. Promise me you will treat her like nothing less than that."

"I will sir, you have my word."

Justin holds out a hand and your dad pulls him in for a hug. "Welcome to the family son," patting him on the back. The quarterback swore he heard a crack in the other man’s voice but said nothing.

You watched the exchange from the kitchen, slightly confused because your dad didn't exactly give out free hugs like they were Halloween candy. "What is happening out there?"

Your mom catches her husband's eye at the end of the hug, seeing him point at his ring finger and trying to contain her excitement. "I'm sure it's nothing," she smiles, handing you another plate to set on the table, "Justin probably asked him if he wants to golf tomorrow. You know he's been trying to get more into it and bringing an NFL quarterback in front of all of his friends is definitely going to boost his confidence." The two of you stood in silence for a bit until you seemed satisfied with that answer and the two men were back inside, immediately distracting you from asking any further questions as conversation flowed as the food and wine were consumed. Justin helped your mom wash the dishes that night, deep in some secret conversation filled with sporadic giggles and all you could think about was how lucky you were to find someone that fit in so seamlessly. Little did you know they were planning a surprise that you'd never forget.

Step one? Find the perfect ring.

"Isabella, I need a favor," Justin takes a seat at the counter next to his sister-in-law. "You need to distract y/n for a couple hours so I can go through her phone."

Placing her own phone down, she looks at him like he's grown another head. "Why in the hell would I do that? Why would YOU do that?” The more she talks the more visibly upset she looks and Justin is severely regretting not being more specific.

“It’s—it’s not what you think. I just—”

She holds up a finger to keep him from explaining himself any more. “I just want you to know that I’m never thought you’d be one of those people and it’s really disappointing.”

He sighs, looking around to make sure that you aren’t walking in any time soon. “I heard you guys talking last week. About how you had a bunch of videos in your Tik Tok likes that helped you plan your wedding. Then she mentioned that she’s been saving some rings that she thinks would look good on her and I need to see those. So I can design the best ring.”

The tension in her body is instantly released and her features are filled with relief. She holds a hand over her mouth to hide a happy squeal before taking a moment to compose herself so she doesn’t give anything away when she sees you. “You’re proposing,” she whispers leaning in close so no one else can hear.

He leans in too, a wide grin on his face. “I’m proposing.”

“I’ll keep her busy,” she promises, giving him a fist bump.

A girls only DIY spa night in gave him the perfect outlet to grabbing your phone. As soon as the cucumber slices were on your eyelids and Isabella gave him the sign, your cellphone was in his hand and he got to work. He screenshotted 13 different ring designs, jotting down some notes in his own phone, looking at various ring styles and the cut that would best match the style that you were looking for. Then he jotted down some local jewelers to visit and design the ring in person, going as far as flying your best friend to Oregon for a few days under false pretenses that she had a work trip in the area and decided to stay at the ranch since it was nicer than a hotel.

Approximately four weeks after his initial meeting with the jeweler, Justin held the velvet box in his hands and admired everyone’s hard work. He’d had a hand in designing every crevice of the ring that looked much smaller in between his fingers as he examined the diamond. Fresh nerves were beginning to set in as the moment became more and more tangible and real. Once he found a secure spot to hide the ring, he moved forward with the next part of his master plan.

Step two? Come up with proposal ideas.

The beautiful thing about the offseason was that you still had to work remotely, so you’d be in your office in one corner of the house and after his morning workout he had all the free time in the world. The bad thing about that was that he had all this free time to sit and think about how he was going to set up an unforgettable proposal. Luckily, some of his receivers had come down for a Nike promo event and to throw so he had people to bounce ideas off of.

“What about this? I take her to Sofi and propose in the middle of the stadium with just the two of us. We have the video board showing monumental moments of our relationship and as she’s watching I just get down on a knee.”

Ladd takes a sip of water, making eye contact with Derius, who says nothing. Justin continues pacing, taking the collective silence as a sign to suggest something else.

“Don’t everyone jump up at once,” he lets out a nervous laugh, wracking his brain. “Maybe I could drive us to Napa Valley with dinner and some music?” That suggestion earned more interaction, some guys nodded, recalling their own proposals and having him take some pointers from their experiences. There was a time where he couldn’t log onto Instagram without seeing one of his teammates getting engaged and the only thing that made him more nervous than proposing was the media circus that would result from the news getting out. Yes, he wanted it to be special and intimate but the thought of the social media team getting their hands on it and invading your privacy was a little scary. Somehow he had to push that thought out of his mind and tackle one problem at a time.

“Private beach proposal in Hawaii?”

Simi stands up at the suggestion, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Sounds beautiful in theory, but aren’t you scared of having the ring so close to the water?”

“Yeah what if you’re so nervous that you drop the box and it’s washed away by the tide,” Ladd notes. “The less distracting things around you the better. Helps you focus on just her.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem, he’s obsessed,” Patrick says, walking by just to chastise his brother. Justin flips him off without uttering a word, an unwavering focus on the task at hand.

Nothing seemed right, some ideas were too flashy, too cheesy. He wanted to show you how much you meant to him, how you’d changed his perspective on life and balancing work and your relationship. That it was possible to do both because the right person brings things out of you that you didn’t even know where there. How do you encompass all of those feelings into one perfect location?

“I’m not gonna lie,” Simi says, voice full of sincerity. “You gotta let the perfect time come to you, you’ll know when the time is right. Trust me.”

Justin had no other choice at this point. He spent the next few weeks holding onto the ring, desperately looking for the right time. Spending all this time stressing and planning and plotting had really taken him away from you. There was an unspoken distance between the two of you and it had become increasingly upsetting. Even when you were in the same room it felt like he was miles away, stuck in his own head, shutting you out completely. You were starting to think that he was looking for a way out and couldn’t decide on a way to let you down easy. The thought of him tip toeing around a breakup made you nauseous.

“Why haven’t you done it yet? You can’t keep putting this off forever,” you heard Mitch say one morning after you came home earlier than expected from an in-person work meeting. Usually you wouldn’t eavesdrop, but Justin’s behavior hadn’t exactly given you a vote of confidence in the state of your relationship. You couldn’t even really remember the last time you went on a date without him looking like he was seconds away from getting sick.

Justin on the other hand had spent every dinner date thinking about whether or not this was the moment. Walking around with the ring in his pocket everywhere he went just in case, deathly afraid of you finding it on accident. That thought alone, of him walking in the house to you holding that ring box not only made him want to cry a little at the ruined surprise but also make him feel like throwing up. And he was tired of hearing everyone and their mom ask him when he was going to pull the trigger and propose.

Especially when he felt like it was happening every single day.

“I’m not putting it off! I just—this is harder than I thought. It’s not just something to check off the to-do list. I gotta do it right or I’m not doing it at all.”

He felt so bad about dumping you that he was putting it off…so he could do it the right way? What even is the right way to end a relationship? You didn’t want to stick around to find out, making your way back outside to sit in your car and think about your next move.

“Justin is planning on dumping me.” You sighed into the phone, calling your best friend.

“What? Where did you get that from?”

You spent the next 20 minutes explaining to her all the signs. His weird behavior, always on his phone but will never let you see what he’s doing or who he’s talking to. You feel like he’s hiding something but he makes sure to only give you minor details saying he’s planning a trip with the guys or talking to his agent about taking on different endorsements. It all just seems too fishy. Why is he torturing you like this by stringing you along? Should you just break up with him first?

“You have to act normal like you don’t suspect anything,” you hear at the other end of the line. Her voice is calm and reassuring which is nice because the last thing you needed to hear was that she didn’t believe you. “If he’s breaking up with you then let him explain him himself. Justin has never been someone to do things without a purpose and you know he’d never do anything knowing that it would hurt you.”

She had a point. “Fine. You’re right, I’ll hear him out and figure it out after I gather all the information. Thank you for talking me off the ledge.”

“You’re welcome.” As soon as you hung up the phone, your friend texted Justin that he should start acting a bit more casual because you were freaking out.

The next evening, he surprised you with a bonfire movie night.

“What’s all this?”

Justin pats the spot on the outdoor couch next to him, welcoming you to take a seat. “An apology? I’m sorry I’ve been off lately. There’s been a lot on my mind and I got so lost in my head that I’ve been neglecting you but that stops today. It had nothing to do with how I feel about you at all, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Care to share with the class what was bothering you for so long?”

You cuddle into his side, a sense of comfort immediately taking over the constant state of unease that previously surrounded you. Looking up at him, he places a gentle kiss on your lips, so soft it leaves you wanting more. “It doesn’t matter now, all that I care about,” he sneaks another kiss, “is being right here with you.”

“Well in that case,” you whisper, “we should make s’mores.”

Justin laughs, kissing you on the cheek and rising to his feet, helping you up before heading into the kitchen. The tray on the counter was loaded with various snack items, Reese’s cups, pretzels and strawberries along with normal s’more ingredients. As you made your way back to the bonfire and began to dig in, a thought popped into your mind while enjoying the stillness.

“We can’t do things like this in LA. You can’t beat the scenery out there and the background noise of the traffic isn’t exactly the most romantic.”

He looks up at the sky full of stars, remembering exactly why he bought land out here in the first place. “I’ve always thought about raising our future kids here. Los Angeles is where I work but this is home, they can grow up and be normal kids here. Play outside, go fishing, experience a childhood that has lasting memories. Not sitting in traffic for hours and never seeing a real tree.”

“Our kids?”

“Yeah,” he says without hesitation. “I think about Coach getting our son his first pair of khakis.”

You laugh, picturing it in your head, “and he’d probably get our daughter a custom pair of cleats to wear pregame.”

“Exactly,” he throws his head back to laugh at the image of mini versions of you and him being spoiled by his head coach. He grabs another strawberry, dipping it in the melted chocolate and feeding it to you. “How many kids do you want?”

“Let’s say it at the same time.”

He counts down from five, saying “three” at the same time you do.

Looking at each other in shock, you burst into laughter at the fact that you have identical answers despite the fact that you’d never openly spoken about it. You each knew the other wanted children but just didn’t know exactly how many. Justin felt like his heart might burst with an uncomfortable and overwhelming amount of happiness. If it wasn’t clear then, it is now.

There, in that moment, nothing seemed more perfect. He looked down at your hands, spotting the manicure you’d gotten last week before attending a wedding. Simi’s words came flooding back, you’ll know when the time is right.

And that time was right now.

“I’m gonna head inside and grab another water, do you want anything?”

“I think I’m okay. Thank you though,” you barely acknowledged the exchange, wrapped up in finding the perfect movie to watch as you scrolled through all the streaming services. Today, the most simply normal day was about to be extraordinary and his feet couldn’t carry him inside fast enough to grab the ring.

His heart was beating in his ears walking back outside. He clears his throat to get your attention and the look on his face makes you stand. “What happened?”

“I spent so long trying to create the perfect moment. But I just realized that every moment with you is perfect.”

Your voice catches in your throat and you’re forced to speak in a hushed tone. “What are you doing?”

He takes a deep breath, holding the box firmly in his hand. “I love you. You’re the one I want to build a home with, create a family with, grow old with and everything in between that this life has to offer. I’m sorry it took me so long, that I spent so much time trying to capture some picturesque scene that we’ll remember forever. You and I, right here is memorable. Being with you is all I’ve ever need, all I’ll ever need. For the rest of my life.” He opens the box and you audibly gasp, everything in your body tingling and buzzing with excitement. Everything made sense now, his nerves, the secrecy…everything. He was trying to make all of your dreams come true.

Holding your hand in one and the box in the other, he gets down on one knee. “Will you make me the happiest man in the world, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you respond immediately, sounding out of breath while wiping a tear from your eye. “A thousand times yes, of course I’ll marry you!” Sliding the ring that fits exactly like it was tailored to your finger, he stands up and wraps his arms around you, a small tear escaping him.

Justin kisses you, a passionate deep kiss, relieved that everything had gone even better than he’d imagined, pulling you in so close that you can feel his steady heartbeat. His movements were long and slow, a slight grin against your lips as you give into belonging to each other. Lost in paradise he leaned his forehead against yours, both of your eyes still closed in awe that this actually just happened.

“Here’s to a lifetime of perfect moments and sometimes the best plan is no plan. I love you Justin, this is amazing I couldn’t ask for anything more incredible.” You pulled away, opening your eyes to look at your hand. “And this ring? You’re crazy.”

“I am crazy. Crazy about you,” he kisses you on the forehead, running his hand across your fingers. “I love you so much, fiancée.”

#justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert fanfic

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