#tea mugs set of 6

[momentzindia]

 Enjoy your favorite brew in style with our delightful small tea cups. Despite their petite size, these cups pack a punch with their exquisite design and impeccable craftsmanship. Perfect for adding a touch of charm to your daily tea rituals.

[venacoeurva]

I think after taxes and a chunk of comms and all that are done I'll reward myself with a new glass mug, especially if I have to retire my rainbow one due to lead paint (gotta test it)...

[vineet123]

Best Ceramic Coffee Mugs.

These 6 high-quality mugs from Merakrt will add flair to your coffee break. Ensuring a stable grip and a comfortable handle, each 300ml capacity model is designed with a conical diamond shape. The Absolute Green glaze adds a contemporary touch to this set.

[merakrt]

Merakrt Black Copper Pipe Coffee Mug Set- Handmade Ceramic Mugs for Tea and Coffee, Microwave Safe, Elegant Black Color Mugs, Perfect for Tea Coffee Lovers

[enwoso]

Could you write something where lovie is actually grumpy and moody to Leah and Alessia and has to have like time out and stuff and it ends with really cute apologies and cuddles

LITTLE MISS MOODY | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

grumpy masterlist

it started before the sun was even fully up.

alessia was used to waking up early - football and parent life doesn't exactly allow for lie ins anymore. but nothing could of quite prepare her for the sound of tiny, stomping feet heading towards her bedroom door.

the door swings open with more force than necessary and there stood you, your blonde hair a scraggy, tangled mess, your esme the elephant dangling limply from one hand and a face like thunder. the grumpiest scowl stretched across your little face.

"mummy," you huff, you voice sharp and already dripping with attitude. "i'm hungry."

alessia blinks blearily at the clock. 6:05am. as she groan softly, rubbing a hand down her face as leah stirs slightly beside her before settling back into sleep.

"lovie, it's still really early," alessia whispers, "why don't you come into mummy's bed and cuddle for a bit and we can make breakfast a little later?"

you didn't like the sound of that option, "no." you snapped back, stomping your tiny little foot for extra emphasis. "i want food now."

from beside alessia, she could hear leah muffle a sleepy chuckle into the pillow, "good luck, love." leah whispers under her breath.

alessia sighs but swings her legs over the side of the bed, quickly wrapping herself in her dressing gown before holding a hand out to her daughter. "alright, come on grumpy bear. let's get you fed."

"i'm not a grumpy bear." you fire back, yanking your hand away and stomping off down the stairs towards the kitchen like a little girl on a mission to ruin someone's day, leaving your mummy stunned as she left out a sharp breath of air.

today was gonna be a long day.

it doesn't get any better as you reach the kitchen. alessia tries to play it cool - not to draw attention to your sour mood hoping it would slowly melt away once you'd woken up properly.

as alessia worked through the usual morning routine as you sat at the table watching the tv with an almighty frown on your face as if a storm cloud was hanging over your head.

leah eventually shuffles in slowly, dragging her feet as she's wearing one of alessia's old hoodies leaning against the counter with a mug of tea.

leah catches alessia's eye an amused glint sparkling as if to say, 'have fun with this one.'

"what would you like for breakfast, lovie?" alessia asked keeping her voice light as she slips open the fridge while looking at you waiting for an answer.

"waffles," you grumble, your focus staying on the tv.

alessia's eyes scan the fridge, a wince taking over her face. "we're out of waffles lovie, how about pancakes?"

the silence that followed is heavy. then—

"no, don't want pancakes." you snap, your voice dangerously close to a full blown whine. "i want waffles!"

"lovie," alessia warns, already feeling the tension creep into her shoulder, "i know your feeling a little upset but you not going to talk to me like that."

"i'm not cranky." you grumble, slumping further into your chair, "i never get what i want." as you lay your arms on the table in further frustration.

across the kitchen, leah chokes on a laugh her smile being covered by her mug of tea. alessia shooting her a look over her shoulder that said, 'don't encourage her.'

"angel," leah says, trying to step in her voice smooth and playful. "you had waffles yesterday. at this point you're basically the princess of waffles-"

you just glared at her, "not funny, mama."

"oh ouch!" leah clutched her chest dramatically but the joke falls flat against your sour mood, you just looking at her totally uninterested.

alessia sets a plate of pancakes on the table, sliding it in front of you, "eat up or you'll be extra cranky." she says, sitting down beside you.

you huff, loudly and pointed but still you pick up your fork and stab the pancake like it had personally offended you this morning.

the attitude doesn't stop after breakfast. as alessia is trying to get you ready for the day, you tagging along to the training ground. you were on a roll.

first thing was you refusing to put on your favourite jacket cause it was 'too itchy' even though it was the exact same one you had wore yesterday when you went to the park with leah on your bike.

then the next thing, leah was fixing one of the bows on your head to make sure it was straight and not wonky on your head. you wriggling away with a dramatic stare, "your pulling to hard!" you groaned.

"i barely even touched you, angel." leah exclaims, moving back with her hands raised in surrender. alessia shooting leah a glare that told her 'not to push' as it was clearly just going to make matters worse.

"well it hurts." you shot back, clutching your esme the elephant tighter like the stuffed animal was the only one who understood your pain.

"alright, lovie, that's enough" alessia says firmly, her patience wearing thin as ice as she kneels down to lace your shoes up. "you don't get to be rude to mama, when she's trying to help you. it's not very kind."

"didn't ask for help though," you muttered kicking your foot out just as alessia had finished tying your laces, kicking hard enough to catch her wrist.  

alessia froze, her lips pressing into a thin line as she exhaled through her nose. leah's eyes widening slightly as she could already sense the shift in the air.

"okay," alessia began, her voice calm but edged with the same no-nonsense tone you knew too well. "you missus, are going to have some time-out time when we get to the lounge."

"but—"

"no 'buts' leah gently cuts in, though her voice is steady, "you're being unkind and you know that's not okay."

and for the first time today, you don't argue back. you know the battle is lost and so with a grumbled "fine" you stomped your way to the door, esme the elephant trailing along for the ride.

the entire car ride was silent, leah tried to get you to come out your little moody by pointing out some of your favourite songs as they came up on the radio.

alessia tried too, telling you about what uncle gio had been up to in australia but you couldn't have been more uninterested if you tried as you sat in your car set, staring out the window with the deepest frown ever.

as your mummy pulled into the arsenal ground and you got inside, the players' lounge usually being your favourite place as it was a sanctuary of snacks, soft couches and your honorary aunties who would spoil you rotten.

but today? today, you were sat on the little bench near the corner for your time-out time. 

alessia watched on from the couch, her arms folded across her chest as leah sipped on her second cup of tea of the day, her head shaking slightly.

"she is certinly on one today," leah whispered keeping her voice low.

"tell me about it," alessia muttered back, "i love her endlessly but she's really testing me today."

minutes tick by and your face stays scrunched up in defiance, your little legs swinging impatiently beneath the bench.

but by the time, your mummy deems you's sat there long enough to have enough time to reflect on your behaviour, your anger seems to be unraveling. your shoulders aren't as tight and your frown isn't quite as fierce.

your mummy kneels in front of you, her voice softer now. "alright, baby, whats going on?"

you sniffles, your lip trembling as the weight of the morning if finally catching up with you. "i sorry mummy," you whispered. "i didn't mean to kick you"

alessia's heart softened immediately. she opened her arms and you wasted no time crawling into them clinging tight. "i know baby," she whispered, kissing the top of your head. "but you still need to be kind even when your being a little grumpy."

you nodded, as you stayed in your mummy's arms. your face shifting to leah's, your voice small. "i sorry i was mean to you too mama"

leah's smile is warm as she reaches over, pulling you into her lap. "i forgive you little miss moody," she teases gently, dropping a kiss to your forehead. "you know i still love you - even when your being a little menace."

you gigle quietly, snuggling into leah;s chest as your bad mood finally dissolves completely. "i love you too," you mumble, your voice now sleepy.

and for the rest of the day, you stayed close. arms looped around your mummy's neck or curled up beside leah, as if making up for every frown and stomped foot, because no matter how grumpy you got there was no place safer than in their arms.

[angelicgirlmj]

an angels perfect winter morning: a guide . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

hi angels! this winter i want to perfect my morning routine. i struggle alot with sleep and energy levels, especially during the first few weeks of winter so this guide is a perfect way for me to ensure i have enough energy to get on with a busy and full day and achieve all my goals! while i cant do all of this every day what i try to do is pick a few things to prioritise daily. i hope you enjoy this and find some good routine inspo! especially if you struggle a bit with slumps during the colder months. enjoy.

school/work days - 20 step routine . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

wake up at 6:30 - 70:00.

open curtains and window (if not raining), let air circulate.

do a quick five or ten minute yoga/stretch routine while you watch the sunrise.

make bed (studies suggest its better to let your bed freshen with the sheets unmade first thing to stop the growth of certain bacteria etc).

dress.

clean teeth and floss.

drink glass of lemon water and salt (for natural electrolytes).

start packing lunch or snacks needed for the day.

make a cup of tea (my favourites are chai, green tea or matcha).

make breakfast (my go tos at the moment are turkey bacon and scrambled eggs, sautéed apple and yogurt or a porridge/oatmeal bowl).

clean teeth and mouthwash.

do am skincare.

style hair and jewellery.

make sure bag is fully packed.

journal for a few minutes and plan day.

read or listen to a podcast.

ensure all school work is up together/everything prepared for work.

fill up water bottle for the day.

set up room for when home, leave a cute lamp on, make sure your desk is tidy, lay out evening clothes etc.

put on motivational/winter playlist!

weekends - 20 steps . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

wake up at 8 - 8:30.

open curtains and window.

ten minute yoga/stretch routine.

tidy room and make bed.

get dressed in workout clothes.

do a five minute oil pull then clean teeth.

drink glass of lemon water with salt.

make breakfast and a tea (i normally put mine in a travel mug).

fill up water bottle.

clean teeth and am skincare.

if weather nice go on a little morning walk (half an hour to forty minutes).

journal and light a candle, plan day.

workout (i aim to workout for an hour to an hour and a half on weekends).

have a shower.

body lotions/moisturiser.

file nails.

start any work/projects needed, aim to get all finished by end of morning.

during breaks read or listen to podcast.

start weekend clean of room, change bedsheets, clean surfaces etc.

spend time with family or friends!

i want my winter mornings to be slow and mindful, focused on caring for my body and mind and doing what i can to make this time of the year easier and gentle on every part of me! there are lots of complexities within these routines so consider this a fairly basic, un-detailed guide. i might try to make a guide for any changes i make during the winter/as it gets colder if that would interest you angels? thank you for reading and have a great start to winter!

love, m.

[lay-z]

🌲 Day 6 ‒  A Christmas tree disaster

Synopsis: This was supposed to be a relaxing, fun getaway for the three of you, – spending Christmas leave in a cosy cottage in the Scottish Highlands, – but for some reason, your two lovers just don’t seem to be getting along.

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x fem!Reader x John Soap MacTavish

Warnings/Info: NSFW, 18+ | multiple POV’s; military!Reader; established poly!relationship; cussing; humour; domesticity; sexual roleplay; dirty talk; breeding kink; voyeurism; angst; edging; orgasm denial; miscommunication (Don't worry, though!)

Word count: 2.9k

↳ back to 🎅🏼 Masterlist ☃️

Happy St. Nicholas’ Day! Hope you’ll enjoy this. 🎅🏼❤️

Blowing softly on the steaming cup of black tea clutched between your palms, you watch from the large kitchen window front as the snowy blanket covering the scenery outside thickens with the steady flutter of big, fluffy snowflakes.  

The snowfall is creating a beautiful, tranquil atmosphere that seems like a perfect setting for a romantic getaway, it’s been snowing consistently since you’ve arrived at the cottage last night and it doesn’t look like it will let up anytime soon, judging by the grey sky. 

You let out a soft sigh, your thoughts turning to the approaching Christmas Eve tomorrow.  

You're finally on leave with Simon and Johnny, who have rented a cosy cottage in the picturesque Scottish Highlands for some much-needed R&R, after Johnny had practically begged you two to visit Scotland with him over the holidays. 

“There ye are, hen,” Johnny coos as he approaches from behind; two warm, beefy arms, clad in a deep blue chequered lumberjack shirt, wrap around your waist from behind as he pulls you into himself, your back moulding against his bulky chest. 

“Enjoyin’ the bonnie view, hm?” He asks softly, voice muffled as he buries his face into your neck. 

Your heart flutters at his unexpected embrace, the warmth of his arms enveloping you like a comforting blanket. The snowy scenery outside might be beautiful, but the feeling of his strong, solid presence behind you is what truly captures your attention and helps you relax. 

“Hmmm,” you hum in contentment, putting the hot mug down on the counter in front of you before leaning back into him. “Yeah, it's gorgeous out here. Perfect for a cosy holiday getaway. Good job renting this place for us, baby.” 

Johnny grins, his voice a soft rumble. “Knew it'd be nice. Cannae wait ta spend the week all by ourselves – with ye and the Grinch.” His fingers splay across your abdomen, his arms wrapping around you tighter. 

“We can unwind here, or even go out some. Have a proper snowball war,” he suggests, nuzzling into your neck, “– or stay inside an’ have some fun.” He teases, the smirk evident in his deep voice, his warm breath fanning over you, sending a shiver down your spine. 

You squirm in his embrace, giggling softly, when his fingers sneak underneath the hem of your beige wool sweater, tickling along your warm skin. 

“Will you stop calling Simon a Grinch? Because he will clock you if he hears it again.” 

Johnny chuckles against your neck, his fingers roaming beneath your sweater and brushing over the underside of your bra-clad breasts, “But it's fitting, innit? He is grouchy as hell, more so than usual.” He objects, his featherlight touch sending sparks of desire to your core. 

“And let tha’ big geezer try. I can take him any day.” He murmurs jokingly, pressing a soft kiss to your nape as his hands cup your breasts over your soft bra, groping them sensually while he pushes the growing bulge inside his jeans against your rear. 

You moan softly at his teasing, your breath hitching as you feel his muscular body pressing flush against yours. Your hips instinctively push back against him, your head tilting as his mouth peppers kisses along the side of your neck, the rough stubble of his chin adding to the sensation. 

“Ah, careful… Johnny,” you murmur, your fingers reaching up and behind you to thread through his dark, short Mohawk while his hands cup your breasts, pinching your stiffening nipples through the fabric.  

“We need to help Simon relax and unwind. You know that he’s still adjusting to… this relationship. Plus, you know that the holidays aren’t easy for him.” Johnny hums along as you speak; still pre-occupied with kissing your neck and groping your body, so you give his Mohawk a tug that has him growling in return. 

“Where is he anyway?” You ask eventually, concern lacing your voice as you let out another contented sigh while you try not to get too distracted by your other boyfriend and his ministrations – or shenanigans. 

Johnny mutters in between teasing nips, “Said he’s gonna take a walk… Talkin’ about ‘checkin’ the bloody perimeter’.” He snorts, his breath puffing against your shoulder, “I was thinkin’ we could ah– christen the kitchen now, hm? Give him somethin’ nice ta look at when he comes back. Whaddaya think, hen?” 

Your fingers carding through his hair loosen their grip and your arm drops to your side, resolve crumbling when one of his big hands lets go of your breast to slip beneath the waistband of your matching beige leisure pants. 

“You–You can’t keep saying that Simon is a voyeur, baby,” you almost whine, your voice already breathless as his fingers start teasing your rapidly dampening slit and swelling clit through your panties. 

“Ach, our Grinch’s a bloody voyeur and ’m a nasty mutt and ye luv us both for it,” Johnny growls against your nape, biting down playfully as he pushes your panties aside and plunges a finger past your sopping entrance while his other hand pushes your bra up to free your breasts beneath your sweater.  

“Now… be a good wifey and let me fill you up with my cum, aye? Gonna breed you fuckin’ nicely over the holidays– make sure ye’re kept all warm an’ stuffed, an’ ask Simon ta take turns with me.” 

Your knees nearly buckle as he adds a second finger into your cunt, thick digits working their magic to prepare you for his girthy cock, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You can't deny the truth in his words. Yes, Simon is a voyeur, and yes, Johnny is a naughty, eager brat. And yes, you love them both more than anything. 

The mention of being Johnny’s ‘wifey’ causes a shiver to pass through your body and you feel like your pussy reacts even harder, gushing with arousal as he keeps pumping and scissoring his fingers, muttering filth into your ear with his Scottish brogue. The idea of submitting to him, to both of them, being their ‘good wife’... it's incredibly intoxicating. 

Eventually, your sweater is pulled over your head along with your bra and dropped onto the dark kitchen tiles; your skin pebbles with goose bumps when Johnny pushes you forward, making you brace your hands on the brown marble kitchen counter while you hear him fumble with his belt and zipper behind you. 

He pushes your soft pants and panties down your hips, letting the fabric pool at your feet as he nudges them apart with his boot, “Fuckin’ hell, look at tha’ bonnie cunt. Ye’re already drippin’ f’me, wifey.” 

Simon closes the heavy, dark cedar wood door behind him with his usual finesse, making little to no sound, even as he steps inside the spacious entrance area, gently placing the freshly chopped logs for the fireplace down in a corner, before brushing the powdery snow off of his warm black bomber jacket, kicking off his wet winter boots next. 

He feels better after his walk, having swept the perimeter and gotten familiar with the surroundings of the cottage where they will be residing at for the next couple of days; it eases his anxiety and soothes his paranoia, knowing his way around here, even though both you and Johnny are more than capable enough to handle possible danger and threats, no matter where. 

After hanging up his jacket next to yours and Johnny’s, he knows that the both of you are either still settling in or lounging around somewhere. 

However, when Simon saunters down the hallway toward the open living room area, his trained ears pick up the odd sound of rapid skin on skin contact coming from the kitchen and his stomach drops and tightens into knots, synapses firing in his brain, once he makes the connection and comes to the most logical conclusion. 

Of course, you two would be doing that.  

A part of him wants to simply leave and find some other way to occupy himself, but he has to admit, his curiosity and the shameless urge to watch you get fucked by Johnny wins out – always does. So, he slowly strides toward the kitchen, his sock-footed steps silent and measured, while the sound of slapping flesh, your wanton moans and Johnny’s hoarse groans become louder as he approaches. 

When Simon comes to stand inside the open kitchen doorway, a shockwave of blasting desire shoots through his lower abdomen, makes his groin throb and his cock chuff inside his boxers at the obscene sight in front of him. 

His sharp eyes land on Johnny’s bare ass and clothed torso, jeans pooling at his boot-clad ankles; plump ass cheeks and hairy thighs flexing as he pounds into you from behind while one of his meaty hands is wrapped around the back of your neck, pushing your naked body down against the counter while the fingers of his other hand dig into the fat of your hip to keep you steady.  

Simon tries to keep his breathing steady, but his blood starts rushing and simmering, knuckles turning white as he balls his hands into tight fists at his sides to keep his composure while heat starts licking up his spine, flushing his pale cheeks which are still stinging from the biting cold outside. 

The way your smooth back arches as you take Johnny’s fat cock, makes Simon want to jump into action himself and lick his flat tongue along your spine, get a good taste of your sweat and skin. He can clearly see your legs quaking; can hear how wet you are as Johnny’s heavy sac slaps against your flesh. It’s making him dizzy, and he bites back a low groan bubbling up in his chest. 

Simon’s painfully hard now, dick straining against his underwear, and he knows – one flick of your pretty tongue over his flushed cockhead would have him buckle and come undone within seconds, erupting like a bloody volcano.  

Suddenly, his right hand cups his throbbing erection through his black cargo pants, heart thudding violently against his ribcage as he rubs himself, sucking in a sharp breath through his nostrils as his own touch ease some of the pressure. 

Slowly, his dark eyes move lower, his gaze fixated on your face and the way it contorts in pleasure, lips parted with keening moans while your eyes are squeezed shut. He tries to keep his expression neutral, despite the ache between his thighs, but his jaw ticks and the vein in his neck throbs with restraint. Watching you and Johnny... despite how much it turns him on, it always makes him feel insignificant, inadequate, redundant... 

Simon hates how he’s feeling about this relationship lately. How envious he is and how he thinks of himself as an intruder rather than your equal lover and boyfriend. An equal with Johnny, despite slipping and sliding into your relationship later than the Scot.  

And now, he’s stuck with the two people who he cares most about and loves for vastly different reasons on this godforsaken planet, unable to enjoy this R&R, because he doesn’t know and has never learned how to relax and unwind and enjoy these holidays that everyone seems to love so bloody much. He’s sure neither you nor Johnny would bat an eyelash at those sentiments of his and he can’t even blame either of you for that. 

“Can feel ye squeezin’ me, hen, – Fuck! Ye gonna cum f’me, aye?” Johnny taunts you, his voice strained and husky with desire, “Ah, F–Fuck! ‘m close, baby! Ye ready?” 

The way you whimper and moan for Johnny, blabbering gibberish in ecstasy, has Simon gritting his teeth as his chest clenches and his cock throbs, ready to burst so soon with little to no stimulation, but he can’t – can’t allow himself to use you two and finish in his pants like this. It feels wrong and pathetic, like he doesn’t deserve nor earned it yet. 

Your words come out chopped, breath hitching with each thrust of Johnny’s powerful hips, his girthy cock dragging through your slick channel, thick tip nudging against that spongy spot that has your brain go fuzzy as your pitchy whines are torn from your throat and echo through the cottage, “Fuck– ah yes, yes, yes! John-ny–!” 

Even in the throes of passion, Johnny is aware of Simon’s presence; knowing the big bloke is probably standing completely still behind them in the kitchen’s doorway, trying to keep himself from whipping out his cock to stroke it. 

But the stubborn Scotsman has made it his personal mission for the holidays to keep you extra satisfied and happy, and finally make Simon let loose in the process of it. It just hasn’t been working too well so far with the latter, though he’s making progress with the former– 

His grip on your neck tightens as the tension in his lower belly coils deliciously, his balls getting taut with his impending release as he snaps his hips forward, making sure to keep the right angle, keep you moaning his name with that saccharine voice of yours as his meaty cock pistons in and out of your wet cunt while your rippling walls clench tightly around his shaft, trying to suck him in deeper. 

Johnny eases his grip on your neck with a deep grunt and lets his warm, big palm run down the curve of your back, arched so sweetly for him, before he lifts it to smack your right ass cheeks harshly, watching the fat jiggle as you yelp. 

As soon as you cry out in pleasure and your body starts tensing, Johnny knows you’re about ready to tip over the edge, so he grabs your hips with both hands and doubles the effort, eager to follow you into the abyss. 

“You better fuckin’ stop, MacTavish, and don’t you fuckin’ dare come inside her now.” 

Johnny’s breath stutters, thrusts faltering as soon as Simon’s booming, gravelly voice resounds behind him. And just like that, his chance to climax and fill you up with his cum is popped and broken like a flimsy balloon. 

The intensity in Simon's voice is like a bucket of cold water, snapping you out of your haze of pleasure, and you tense, perking up as you grip the kitchen counter before glancing over your shoulder with widened doe-eyes, shocked gaze flickering between Johnny and Simon. In an instant, the atmosphere changes and things get tense – the sexual tension in the air transforming into something more volatile, something potentially explosive. 

“We got stuff do to, shite to prepare for tomorrow and you two are shagging,” Simon scoffs, trying to keep his voice nonchalant while ignoring the obvious, raging boner in his cargo pants, “Typical.” 

“Stuff ta prepare?” Johnny huffs a laugh, raising his brows in amused disbelief while his hips keep grinding into your pulsating heat shamelessly, “Mate, we’re on vacation,” he says matter-of-factly, holding your hips tighter as you try to pull away, “There’s not a feckin’ thing more important than peace, love, food, and ‘specially this–” He gives your ass cheek a couple more teasing pats as Simon saunters into the kitchen, squaring his broad shoulders. 

Meanwhile, there is nothing else you’d rather do than melt into a puddle and seep into the floor in shame and embarrassment. 

Your cheeks heat up even hotter, when Simon comes to stand beside you, scrutinizing you thoroughly with his icy, unwavering gaze before he reaches out with one hand to brush his rough, cold knuckles over the side of your face lovingly. 

“You did want a Christmas tree, right, lovey?” 

Your whole body shudders and your throat goes dry, completely caught off guard by the sudden display of tenderness from Simon after catching you in such a vulnerable, obscene position. Still, your brows draw together in a thankful frown as you nod slowly. 

The corners of Simon’s eyes crinkle the tiniest bit as his gaze softens for you, “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he rumbles, brushing his knuckles along your tense jawline as you whimper, “Gonna make this Christmas special f’ya.” 

“Oh... fuck–” Johnny huffs, chest heaving before he chuckles with a playful glint in his cobalt blue eyes, “Our bonnie lass loves ye an’ yer voice, Si. Her pretty cunny is grippin’–” 

“Enough, Johnny!” Simon barks, making you flinch, “Now put your fuckin’ dick away and help her get dressed. We gotta go cut down that tree before the bloody sun sets.” 

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 22

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: Angst, tension, feeling of betrayal, mentions of loss of appetite, arguments, this ones a looooooong one

The sun is beginning its slow descent by the time I finally drag myself out of bed. My body feels heavy, like I’ve been carrying the weight of the world in my chest. I need something, anything, to ground me, and right now, a cup of tea sounds like the only thing that might help.

That’s the plan. Go to the kitchen, make it, and come straight back up to my room. I’ll sit on my balcony and watch the last bits of sunlight disappear while I think about what to do next.

 But my main goal: avoid Matt.

I slip out of my room, moving as quietly as possible. The last thing I want is to draw attention to myself. The house is silent apart from the distant murmur of voices outside on the patio. I catch a glimpse through the window, figures sitting around, but I can’t make out exactly who. Not that it matters. I’m not stopping to find out.

The only sound that gives away my presence is the low whirl of the kettle. I stand there, staring at it as it heats up, feeling every second drag out like an eternity. I grab a mug and put the tea bag in it so as soon as it clicks off, I can pour the water and milk, moving quickly but carefully. Just get in, get out.

Successfully, I make my tea. 

Mission accomplished. 

Now, I just need to make it back upstairs.

But just as I start up the steps, the sound of the patio door sliding open sends a jolt of panic through me. 

Shit.

I don’t even turn to see who it is, I just pick up my pace, practically going up the steps two at a time.

I reach the top of the stairs and turn the corner, then..

BAM.

I nearly spill my tea everywhere as I slam into someone, my breath catching in my throat. I look up, and my stomach drops.

Matt.

For a split second, time slows. His eyes lock onto mine, searching, but I don’t give him the chance. Like I’m on autopilot, my feet keep moving, my mouth stays shut, and I walk right past him without a single word.

I don’t stop. I don’t hesitate. I reach my room, step inside, and lock the door behind me.

I let out a shaky breath, gripping my mug a little tighter. I try my best to shake it off. It was just a few seconds. Just an unfortunate encounter in a house that now feels way too small.

I know I’m going to have to face him sooner or later. There’s no avoiding it forever. But I’m not ready right now, not for a one on one, not for the inevitable conversation.

So, instead of dwelling on it, I step onto the balcony. The sun is slowly dropping lower, so I sit here and try an appreciate the sky, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe..

Until there's a knock at my door.

I freeze.

No. No, no, no. If this is Matt, I swear to god.

But then I hear a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

“Y/n? It’s me.”

Nick.

Relief washes over me so quickly it almost knocks me over. I exhale, setting my tea down on the small table before walking back inside. I hesitate for just a second before unlocking the door.

Nick steps into the room, his expression soft but searching mine. "How you doing?"

I shrug lightly, forcing a small smile. "I'm okay.. I just made a cup of tea. Was gonna sit out on the balcony while the sun sets."

Nick nods, his eyes flicking toward the open balcony doors. "Mind if I sit with you?"

"Of course not" I say, stepping aside so he can follow me out.

We settle into the chairs. The silence between us is comforting, a huge difference to the chaos of the past twenty four hours.

After a minute, Nick clears his throat. "I ran into Matt coming up the stairs."

My body stiffens, fingers tightening around my mug. "Oh."

“I just asked if he had spoken to you yet, and he said no."

I huff out a breath, looking back toward the view. I take a slow sip of my tea before turning back to Nick. "So, what's your plan for the night?"

He leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I'm gonna go meet that guy."

I raise an eyebrow. "That guy? You’ve been talking about him for days, and I still don’t even know his name."

Nick hesitates, his expression shifting slightly. He looks at me like he's bracing for something.

I narrow my eyes. "Nick.. what?"

He winces, rubbing the back of his neck. "His name is.. George."

For a second, we just stare at each other. Then, at the exact same moment, we both burst out laughing.

"George?!" I manage between laughs.

"I know! I know!" Nick groans, covering his face. "I was hoping you wouldn’t ask."

"I'm sorry, but that’s just- " I laugh harder, shaking my head.

Nick grins, finally giving in. "I know I never pictured myself with a George but I swear, the way he is makes up for it though!"

"I'm sure it does.." I say, still giggling. "It's just.. George."

We end our fit of laughter and I don’t bother asking what everyone else’s plans are, especially after overhearing Chris earlier. My guess is he’s going to meet Rachel. Whether Matt tags along to meet Christina too is a different story. I don’t want to know. All I know is that I’m not moving from this room.

Nick doesn’t press the conversation any further, and I appreciate that. Instead, we sit there, laughter lingering in the air between us. I'm glad Nick came into me because suddenly I feel a little bit lighter.

Eventually, he checks his phone and sighs. "I should probably start getting ready."

I nod, still staring at the sunset. "Yeah. Have fun."

Nick hesitates for a second before standing. "You sure you’re good?"

I glance at him, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I’m good." I mean it is a lie, but he doesn’t call me out on it.

He squeezes my shoulder before heading out. I exhale, setting my empty mug down on the table beside me. I know I should eat something, try to distract myself, maybe even attempt to sleep, but I don’t move. I stay curled up in my chair, staring at the fading sky, wondering how everything changed so fast.

When I finally move to my bed, I pull the covers up around me, but even laying here feels weird. The sheets feel awful against me now, tainted with memories that once brought comfort but now only make my stomach churn. My mind spirals, picturing how easily our history could be replicated in his bed, with someone else. The thought makes my chest tighten, and I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting it all to stop.

I take a deep breath, then another, but it doesn’t help. My mind keeps circling back to the same place, the same questions, the same ache in my chest that refuses to go away. How could he do this? Did any of it mean anything? Was I just another passing moment for him?

I need to make it stop.

I turn onto my side, curling into myself, exhausted from it all. Being honest, my eyes hurt that much from crying, I don’t find it hard to fall asleep.

I wake up the next morning determined to be a new woman. I have a shower to wash away all of yesterday's sorrow, before pulling out the smallest blue bikini I could find. I make my way downstairs and throw myself together a small breakfast, considering I haven't eaten in over 24 hours but not forcing myself too much as my appetite still isn't fully back yet.

I take my breakfast outside to the patio and I settle onto a lounger, my plate resting on my lap. The villa is silent. Everyone must still be asleep, sleeping off their drunken choices, their reckless mistakes.

Good. I need the peace.

I take a slow bite of my food, staring out at the water. The pool glistens under the morning light, the water undisturbed. Today is a new day. A fresh start.

I adjust my sunglasses and stretch out after putting my plate under my lounger, determined to soak in the sun and let it warm the parts of me that feel cold and bitter. If anyone sees me out here, I want them to see that I’m unbothered. That I’m fine.

A few minutes pass in silence before I hear the sliding door creak open behind me. I don't turn to look. I don't react.

I realise it’s Nate and Nick coming out, both looking more awake than I expected.

"Morning" they say in unison, and I greet them with a small smile “Morning early birds.”

I turn to Nick first. "Soooo? How was your night with George?"

Nick rubs the back of his neck, and I can tell he’s holding back his excitement for my sake. "It was good" he says simply.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Nick."

He sighs, then finally lets the grin slip through. "Okay, fine. It was great, actually. We got drinks, had a laugh. He’s funny, really easy to talk to."

I smile at him, genuinely happy. "That’s what I like to hear. You deserve a good time."

Nick gives me a look, like he’s checking if I really mean it. I do. Just because my love life is a disaster doesn’t mean I want everyone else to be miserable with me.

I turn to Nate next. "And what about you? What were you up to?"

Nate stretches his arms over his head, looking far too well rested. "Didn’t move from my bed. Best sleep I’ve had in weeks."

I laugh. "Of course you did. You look like you just got back from a spa retreat while the rest of us look like we barely survived the night."

The three of us settle into conversation, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the lightness of it. But in the back of my mind, I know this moment won’t last. The rest of the villa is still asleep, for now. And soon enough, I’ll have to face the reality I’ve been trying to avoid.

"Is Chris up?" I ask Nate, trying to sound casual.

Nate shakes his head. "Don’t think he even came back here last night."

I swallow hard, nodding slowly. "Oh right"

There's been no sign of Matt either. That tells me everything I need to know.

Guess that means he went out with Chris and stayed with Christina last night again.

I should’ve expected it, but expecting something doesn’t make it hurt any less.

For the rest of the morning, it stays just me, Nick, and Nate chilling outside. The sun climbs higher, and the villa remains quiet, no sign of Chris or Matt. I sip on my water, listening to the distant waves crashing on the shore, slipping in and out of conversation with Nick and Nate as a distraction.

By midday, that peacefulness is interrupted. I hear the sliding door open, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching.

I lift my head slightly, peering through my sunglasses. Chris and Matt step outside together. Just seeing them like this, together, appearing at the same time, only further confirms what I already knew. 

Matt was with Christina last night.

I can feel my heart break over again, but I refuse to let it show.

Without a word, I rest my head back down on the lounger, keeping my sunglasses on, blocking them out. I’m not ready for any type of conversation. Not yet.

Nate and Nick casually greet them, like nothing is out of the ordinary. Chris stretches, rubbing the back of his neck, and asks if anyone’s hungry.

My stomach twists at the thought of food. The second I saw Matt, my appetite vanished again. So I keep my mouth closed.

Nate says he is and disappears inside with them, leaving just me and Nick alone by the pool.

The quiet settles between us for a moment before Nick turns to me. “Are you coming to dinner tonight?” His tone sounds like he wants me to be there, even though he understands If I don’t want to.

I hesitate. The idea of sitting at a table with Matt, pretending everything is fine, feels impossible. I open my mouth to say no, but Nick is already cutting me off.

“You don’t have to talk to him at all” he reassures me. “I’ll be there the whole time.”

I exhale, chewing on my bottom lip. I do feel bad if I don’t go. It’s just dinner, right? I mean, the tension between Matt and I is like old times, nothing I haven’t had to deal with or experience before. The only thing is, the feeling in my chest is a hundred times worse than it ever was before.

“Okay” I finally say. “I’ll come.”

Nick grins, tapping my arm lightly. “We’ll have a good time, I promise.”

I nod, but the weight in my chest doesn’t lift.

By now, it’s nearly 3pm, and the sun has drained me but nowhere near as much as the situation with Matt has. The exhaustion clings to me, both physical and emotional, and I know if I don’t rest now, I’ll be useless later.

“I think I’m gonna go for a nap” I mumble, pushing myself up from the lounger.

Nick gives me a small smile. “Good idea. I’ll wake you if you’re not up in time.”

I nod again, grateful, and make my way inside. The second I hit my bed, the world around me fades.

When I wake up, the air in my room feels heavier, the remnants of my dreams still in my brain. I shake them off and head straight for the shower.

By the time I step out, wrapped in a towel, I feel better. Maybe, tonight won’t be as bad as I think.

I walk out and go to sit at the vanity, but I feel like I need to lift the vibe even more.

A drink and music.

That’s what I need if I have any chance of enjoying myself tonight.

Still in my towel, I make my way downstairs, moving quickly so I don’t run into anyone. I pour myself a vodka lemonade, throwing pieces of ice into the fancy glass.

Running back up to my room, I shut the door, take a sip, and set my speaker on full blast. I turn on It’s ok, i’m ok by Tate McRae, the lyrics hitting a little too close to home. I let the music drown out my thoughts as I start getting ready, determined to feel like myself again, even if it’s just for tonight.

I move through my routine on autopilot, letting the music and the slight buzz from my drink carry me through. I’m not overthinking my outfit, my makeup, or my hair, yet somehow, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I look effortlessly put together. Maybe it’s the lighting, maybe it’s the fact that I’ve just given up on caring, but either way, I feel like this is the best I’ve ever looked.

I pick up my phone and text Nick, asking him to come to my room to take pictures. It barely takes a minute before he’s knocking on my door, slipping inside with an approving grin.

“Damnnnn!” he says, dragging the word out. “You look amazing.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my lips. “You have to say that.”

“I really don’t” he laughs, already pulling his phone out. “We need evidence of this moment.”

We take a few pictures together, Nick hyping me up between shots, making me laugh just enough to keep it natural.

When we’re satisfied with the pictures, I wonder where it is we’re actually going to eat. “So, where are we even going for dinner?”

“Some Italian place Chris booked” Nick says, glancing at his phone. “He said he made the reservation earlier.

I nod, I love italian food, so I’m hoping this whole thing is just easy. I grab my purse, double checking that I have everything, phone, keys to the villa, money. I take a deep breath before heading downstairs with Nick.

The moment we step into the foyer, I see them. Chris, Nate, and Matt are all standing together, talking casually like nothing has changed, like the last few days haven’t flipped my world upside down. Matt looks up first. For the briefest second, our eyes meet, and I swear I see something flash across his face, it’s something, but I can’t make out what. But I don’t let myself dwell on it.

I adjust the strap of my purse on my shoulder, forcing my expression to remain neutral. This is the closest I’ve been to Matt since the nightclub, since everything, but I refuse to let it get to me. Not tonight.

I tilt my chin up slightly, gripping onto my confidence like it’s my lifeline, and step forward like I don’t have a care in the world.

I stay locked in conversation with Nick as we leave the villa to make our way to the restaurant, trying to distract myself from the tension in the air. Chris lingers back slightly, eventually matching my pace as we walk. His presence next to me is quiet at first, almost hesitant, before he finally speaks.

"You okay?" His voice is low, careful, like he already knows the answer but feels the need to ask anyway.

It’s a weird one. I haven't heard from Chris since everything went down. He’s been distant, not in a hostile way, but in a way that tells me he didn’t know how to approach me. And now, here he is, finally asking.

I glance at him briefly, weighing my response before settling on, "I will be."

Chris nods slowly, seeming to accept that answer. “Can we talk later? About everything?”

I exhale softly, not quite ready to dive into whatever everything entails but knowing that it’s overdue. I don’t think there was any malice from him in this situation. And I’m not mad at him at all. I would like to know what his thought process was throughout all this. And maybe, he's actually done me a favour. “Yeah,” I agree. “Later.”

That seems to be enough for now. The group keeps moving, making our way toward the restaurant. When we arrive, the guys step inside ahead of us, but I notice them mumbling amongst themselves, their voices low and almost hurried, like there’s some sort of confusion.

Something about their body language makes me pause, and I follow their line of sight before realizing exactly what has caught their attention.

Rachel and Christina.

They’re seated at a table near the back. Five empty seats are pulled out beside them, waiting.

A sharp, sinking feeling settles in my stomach.

Of course. 

Of course they’re here. It was already bad enough having to see Matt, to sit across from him and pretend I wasn’t still breaking, but now, this?

I don’t even have to look at him to know. I can feel his presence, his hesitation. I wonder if he knew they’d be here. If this was always the plan.

My fingers tighten slightly around the strap of my purse as I will myself to keep my composure.

This night just got a whole lot harder.

Nick squeezes my hand gently, a silent reassurance that he’s here, that I’m not alone in this. “What do you wanna do?” he asks quietly, his voice just for me.

I take a breath, steadying myself. “Sit at the other end” I say, keeping my voice even, refusing to let this shake me any more than it already has.

Without hesitation, Nick follows my lead, guiding me toward the farthest end of the table, away from Rachel and Christina. I slide into my seat, positioning myself as far as I can from them, while Nick sits beside me, his presence like a barrier between me and whatever mess is sitting across the table.

Matt and Chris take their seats. Chris next to Rachel and Matt next to Christina. Whether it was planned or just happened naturally, I don’t know, but it doesn’t make a difference, the damage is done. 

The tension is suffocating. You could cut it with a knife. I never thought at the start of this trip I’d be sitting diagonally across from Matt and another girl.

Nobody speaks at first. There’s an awkward shuffle of menus being picked up, the quiet clinking of silverware as waiters move around us, but no real conversation. 

I keep my gaze down, focused on the menu even though I’m not really reading it. My appetite had started to come back earlier, but now? Completely gone again.

Nick, ever my lifeline in this nightmare, leans in slightly constantly making sure I’m okay. “You good?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only I can hear.

I nod once, though I’m not sure if I mean it. “Yeah” I lie. “I’m fine.”

But we both know I’m not.

I try to keep my focus on the menu, pretending to be absorbed in the options, but it’s impossible to ignore Christina. She is relentless, shifting in her seat so she’s angled toward Matt, her body language screaming interest. The way she leans forward, the way her fingers reach out casually to graze his forearm as she talks, it’s all so intentional.

“Oh my God, Matt, you look so good tonight” she purrs, tilting her head as she studies him. “Did you do something different? Your hair? A new cologne?”

Matt barely reacts, only offering a tight lipped smile as he glances at her briefly. “Uh, no. Same as always.” he replies, going back to his menu.

But Christina isn’t deterred. She lets out a soft, exaggerated sigh. “God, I can’t believe we’re all in Hawaii together. It feels like such a movie moment, don’t you think?” She flicks her gaze up at him through her lashes. “Like, if this was a movie, we’d be the main characters.”

Matt huffs a small laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Yeah, I don’t know about that, don’t really take myself as the main character type of guy.” His tone is light, but there’s no real engagement. He’s keeping it neutral.

She’s not giving up, though. She leans in again, dropping her voice to something more sultry. “You know, I had so much fun the other night” she murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. 

My stomach twists, but I don’t react. I refuse to. Instead, I lift my glass of water to my lips, taking a slow sip as if I’m completely unbothered.

Nick shifts beside me, subtly kicking my foot under the table as if to say don’t react. I know he’s watching me closely, waiting for me to crack, but I won’t.

Chris, who’s been silent this whole time, suddenly clears his throat. “Christina, didn’t you say this was your first time in Hawaii?”

It’s so obviously a distraction tactic, and I can’t tell if he’s doing it to get her off Matt’s back or because he knows I’m sitting here, silently absorbing every word.

Christina finally tears her gaze away from Matt and glances at Chris. “Oh, yeah it is.” she says, waving a hand dismissively. 

Matt doesn’t say anything. He just flips a page of the menu, like none of this is even phasing him. Meanwhile, Rachel is watching me like a hawk, waiting for a reaction.

I meet her eyes for a split second and give her the most nonchalant look I can muster before turning to Nick. “What are you getting?” I ask, my voice steady.

Nick glances at me, eyes scanning my face for any sign of weakness before answering, “Probably the carbonara.”

I nod. “Good choice.”

Nate, ever the sweetheart, seems to pick up on everything, the way I’m keeping my head down, the way Nick keeps a protective presence beside me, the way Matt and Christina’s exchange is unfolding just within earshot. Without missing a beat, he slides into conversation with me and Nick as he’s seated opposite us, as if we’re in our own little bubble, separate from the tension on the other side of the table.

“So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Nate asks, leaning forward with a smile. “I was thinking of heading down to the beach early. Maybe rent a jet ski or something. You two in?”

Nick catches on immediately, grateful for the shift in attention. “Absolutely. I’d love to see you wipe out within the first five minutes.”

Nate pretends to be offended, placing a hand over his chest. “Excuse you, I’m actually a professional. Very experienced!”

I can’t help but smile at their antics, grateful for the distraction. “Professional, huh? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Nate smirks. “Oh, you will. And when I leave you both in my wake, don’t come crying to me.”

Nick scoffs. “Yeah, okay, Nate. Keep dreaming.”

As we laugh, it’s almost easy to forget the rest of the table exists, almost. Because out of the corner of my eye, I see Chris sitting stiffly, glancing between me and the rest of the group, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He hasn’t even touched his menu. He just sits there, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like he’s caught in the middle of something he never signed up for.

At one point, he opens his mouth like he wants to say something,to me, but then he hesitates, pressing his lips together instead. His fingers drum restlessly against the table. It’s almost like he wants to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but he can’t.

I keep my focus on Nate and Nick as everyone gives their orders, letting them carry me through the moment, keeping me occupied. And for now, that’s all I need.

The food arrives shortly after, and I focus on my meal, keeping my eyes down, keeping my composure. If I just get through dinner, I’ll be fine.

But Christina doesn’t make it easy.

She just doesn’t stop, her voice carrying just loud enough to ensure I hear every flirtatious remark, every exaggerated giggle. It’s all so obvious, the way she leans toward Matt, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger. 

“Oh my God, Matt, you’re so funny” she forces, brushing her fingers against his wrist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He hasn’t even said anything that funny.

“We should totally do something after this!” Christina continues, tilting her head. “Maybe check out that tiki bar? It would be so fun.”

Matt doesn’t commit. “Maybe.”

Maybe.

That single word twists something in my stomach, because it means he hasn’t outright said no. And I know it shouldn’t matter but that doesn’t stop the sting.

As everyone starts discussing where to go next, I stay quiet, already knowing my answer. The only place I want to be right now is home. I only ever agreed to dinner, nothing more. The idea of trailing behind while Christina continues her performance, while Matt does whatever he’s doing, is unbearable.

I lean toward Nick and quietly tell him, “I’m heading back.”

He nods in understanding, not even questioning it. “That’s fair. I’ll go for one drink, then I’ll be home after. We can debrief, I’ll try to get more info.”

I manage a small smile at that. If there’s anyone I can count on to feed me the details later, it’s Nick.

We both stand, and I feel Chris’s eyes on me, but I don’t meet them. If he wants to talk, he can find me when I’m not on the verge of either snapping or crying.

Nick walks me to the taxi rank just outside the restaurant, following behind me as we weave through the crowd. I should want to stay out, to drown out my thoughts with drinks and distractions, but all I want is to be alone.

“You sure you’re okay going back on your own?” Nick asks as we wait for a taxi to pull up.

I let out a breath. “Yeah. Just over it.”

Nick doesn’t push. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.”

A taxi pulls up, and he opens the door for me. Before I get in, he squeezes my hand briefly, just a reminder that I’m not alone in all of this.

I nod my thanks, slide into the backseat, and as the car pulls away, I finally let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

I pull up to the villa and thank the taxi man, paying him for the fare. I step out of the car and as I do one pulls up directly behind me.

I freeze for a second, my stomach tightening as I watch Matt step out of the taxi behind me. Of all people, of all times, it has to be him.

I don’t wait for him to say anything. I turn toward the villa, walking quickly up the steps, my heels clicking against the cobblestone pavement. I take my keys out of my bag, unlocking the front door.

I can hear him behind me, his footsteps unhurried, like he’s debating whether to call my name.

“Wait” Matt’s voice finally breaks the silence, and I feel his presence closer than I expected. “Can we talk?”

I let out a slow breath before turning to face him, the front door slightly open behind me. His eyes search mine, like he’s trying to figure out where my head is at.

“Talk about what, Matt?” My voice is steady, but I can feel the exhaustion creeping in.

He rubs the back of his neck, looking almost.. nervous? “About this. About everything.”

“I’m not too sure what there is to talk about” I say, my voice surprisingly steady. “I’ve seen it all. I saw Christina in your bed. I saw how she was with you tonight.”

Matt’s face falls, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but I don’t let him.

“And now, what? You think you can stand here and make some sorry excuse for your actions? Do you even realize how disrespectful that is?” My voice rises slightly, frustration taking over. “You can’t just act like nothing happened, Matt. You don’t get to do that.”

He sighs, rubbing his hand over his jaw. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, it’s a bit too late for that now.” I say, my voice sharp. 

"I’m sorry." he mutters.

I let out a short laugh. "Yeah. So am I.”

Matt stands there looking at me, almost confused.

“I'm sorry I let you play with me for so long. Sorry I let you in, that I actually believed there was something real between us. But it’s clear now, isn’t it? Whatever tension was there, it was only ever sexual for you."

Matt steps forward, opening his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.

"So what now?" I snap, my voice shaking with anger. "What’s your next move? You feel bad for how you’ve treated me, so you’ll do what? Buy me flowers? But never actually give them to me? Did you ever track down Christina’s ex to get her locket back too? Or was that just a special little stunt for me?"

I let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking my head. "And don’t you dare try to tell me you haven’t been with anyone else since that night in the house. Christina basically spelled out what happened in Vegas to me at the club.”

Then realisation hits me. “It makes sense to me now, the real reason you customised your jacket that way. You didn’t do it because you felt something for me. You did it so if the topic of her in Vegas came up, you had something to sway me from believing it, so you could keep stringing me along.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Can you please listen to me? I didn’t even know they were coming out here” he says quickly, almost desperately, like that one fact will make any of this better.

I scoff, shaking my head. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes a lot” he insists, stepping forward. “Chris was the one that brought them out here, he has a thing with Rachel and probably just-”

"-wants to smash?" I finish for him, my voice sharp. 

"Yeah, Matt, I know. Just like you said before, that Chris only gave me a job because he wants to smash?" I tilt my head, watching as realization dawns on his face. "Yeah. I heard you when you said that."

Matt shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never meant that" he mutters. "I swear, I didn’t mean it like that."

"Oh really?" I fold my arms, my patience running dangerously thin. "How exactly did you mean it then, Matt?" My voice is sharp, no bullshit. "Because it sounded a lot like you were trying to discredit any of the work I do."

Matt exhales sharply, looking away. "It wasn’t about that, okay?" His voice is tight, like he’s struggling to find the right words. "Maybe I was jealous, maybe I was pissed off at the whole situation, maybe I just-" He stops himself, his jaw locking.

"Maybe you just what?" I push, my voice rising slightly.

His silence is louder than anything he could say. And then, it hits me.

I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head. "Oh my god. It was projection, wasn’t it?" I take a step closer, my words like a slap to the face. "You said Chris only gave me a job because he wanted to smash, but really, that was just you speaking for yourself. You only ever kept me around because that’s what you wanted."

I take a breath, my heart pounding. "And congratulations, Matt. You got it."

Matt’s face falls completely.

"And then you got it from her too, only a matter of hours later." My voice is laced with disgust, and I see the tears welling in Matt's eyes, but I don’t stop. "It’s obvious to me now, you never had feelings for me. You never cared."

I take another step closer, my chest rising and falling with the force of everything I’ve kept inside. "I know you saw me leave the club that night. I know you saw me walk out. And not once did you check on me. Not once did you care enough to see if I was okay. It was like, out of sight, out of mind. I disappeared, and you moved on like I was nothing."

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "And then you brought her back here, to the same villa I’m staying in, to rub it in my fucking face? Like this is some sick joke to you?" And then to keep doing it, over and over again, like it wasn’t enough to break me once?" My voice shakes, but not from weakness, from the sheer weight of the betrayal burning inside me. "You didn’t just move on, Matt. You made sure I saw it. You made sure I felt it. Like twisting the knife wasn’t enough, you had to keep pushing it in, again and again."

I shake my head, my breathing uneven. "And for what? To prove a point? To get back at me for something you thought I’ve done? Or was it just fun for you? To watch me fall apart while you played pretend with her?"

Matt’s mouth opens like he wants to say something, to defend himself, but I cut him off before he can even try. "No. Don’t. Because there’s nothing you can say that will make this okay. Nothing you can do that will undo the fact that you chose this. You chose to hurt me. And I’m fucking done." I spit, my chest rising and falling with the force of everything I’ve held back. 

"Because all you’ve ever done is choose to hurt me. Over and over again, like it’s second nature to you." I stop for a second to catch my breath, realising how pointless this all is. "I don’t even understand why you’re standing in front of me right now, when what you want is down at the bar with everyone else. Stop bothering me, and go back down there and get it."

Matt looks at me, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, like he wants to argue. Like he wants to fight his case. But he doesn’t get to, not now. Not after everything.

"In fact" I breathe out a bitter laugh, shaking my head, "don’t ever think of speaking to me again. Because it’s clear now, Matt, we were always better off when we didn’t speak. When we just ignored each other. Maybe that’s what we should’ve stayed."

My heart is hammering in my chest, my entire body shaking from the adrenaline coursing through me. 

I turn around and storm into the villa, slamming the door so hard behind me that the walls seem to shake with the force of it. But he doesn’t follow. He doesn’t even try. Probably heading straight back down to the bar to get exactly what he wants. What he’s always wanted.

My blood is boiling as I march into my room, every step fueled by the sheer rage burning inside me. I feel like a bull, seeing red, ready to destroy everything in my path. But I don’t, because I don’t have time to waste on any of this anymore.

I grab my phone with trembling fingers, my vision blurring from unshed tears as I unlock it.

 I can’t stay here.

I refuse.

I pull up the American Airlines website, my breathing heavy, my chest rising and falling too fast. I don’t even hesitate as I search for the first available flight back home. 

The sooner, the better.

And when I find one, first thing tomorrow morning, I don’t even think twice. I press confirm before I can second guess myself, before the pain can catch up with me.

I’m leaving.

I’m done.

a/n : OOOOF. thats gotta sting.

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[clubsoft]

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⠀ ⠀ OVER THE MOON ⠀ ⠀ PROLOUGE ⠀ ⠀ REED RICHARDS A . K . A MR . FANTASTIC / F ! READER⠀⠀

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SUMMARY ⋆ reed richards has caught feelings for his student , making their casual , sexual relationship all the more difficult for himself . WARNINGS ⋆ no powers au / professor ! reed richards / he's divorced :3 / age gap ( reader is early to mid 20s ; reed is in his 40s ) / visualized size difference ; little to none character description aside from this / no smut in this one but it's implied so MDNI ty / lovesick , pining reed richards / just an introduction so more context will come l8r / 3rd person POV ; no use of Y/N WORD COUNT ⋆ 1 . 35 k NOTES ⋆ contributing to the drought of reed richards fics !! enjoy !!

In Reed Richards’ world, the sun rises twice. 

First, at 6 in the morning, when his alarm clock buzzes on the nightstand and years of routine allow the blind reach of one long arm to silence it. Weighing down his other arm is the figure of his dream come true, slumbering, a cherubic delight amongst the cushions and furs encompassing her bare shape. In that moment, he lingers, soothing his hand over the silken expanse of her back, lower, lower, and lower still, alongside her hip, curling his digits to press their tips ever so gently into the plush of her ass, fondling the flesh with care, as to not wake her. The sensation of her under his palm marks her as real, as more than a sick — amatory fantasy of an old man like himself. His fingers travel once more, inwards, dimpling her thigh, so close to heaven itself — she stirs, he retracts his hand, and sighs. A solitary ray of light sneaks in, licks at the curve of her spine just as Reed finds the hem of the blanket and slips it up to her shoulders. 

Winter months don’t mesh with floor to ceiling windows, curtains of thick velvet can only retain so much heat, and a previously excruciating battle is made all the more difficult; it’s impossible enough to withdraw his warm embrace from the object of his yearning, but to do just that, and then press the soles of his feet against ice cold marble floors felt like punishment. Yawning, he heaves himself off the mattress, searches with lazy hands for his pajama bottoms, and after pulling them up his legs, pushing his feet into his slippers, making sure the girl is tucked in — snug, he yanks his knit sweater off the foot of his bed. The lights in the modern, minimalist home click to life, brightening his journey down the stairs and into the kitchen. Everything is on a sensor, finely tuned to his every need. He doesn’t even press a button, yet the coffee begins to brew in its pot; a perfect serving, one mug full. His guest doesn’t drink coffee, but she tries a sip when he asks, adamant on finding a ratio of sugar and creamer that she’d enjoy. In turn, Reed drinks a different flavor on most mornings he shares with her. He’s given up, truth be told, but he occasionally feigns continued effort, all to have her lips grace his mug so he can kiss her with each sip he takes. 

Tea is more her taste. Hot water, a paper tea bag, a pinch of sugar, a splash of milk. Instead of adding a setting to his coffee machine, he makes it by hand, stands above the steaming water and pokes impatiently at the tea bag with a spoon. The goal is to return to his bedroom with a mug in each hand, the brush of his stubble, the tip of his nose tracing the length of her neck, causing her to awaken with soft groans, the sound of giggles once the ticklish feeling truly registers. He doesn’t make it in time to wake her up himself, yet he’s content, beholding the sun as it rises a second time. 

The rustle of blankets, a delicate set of fingers wrinkling his half of the bed, searching for him. There’s a tug at his chest, a call to make everything right, fill his side of the sheets with his frame so that little hand finds just what it seeks, but he waits, watches, and his patience is rewarded by a soft smile as sleepy eyes finally find him, twinkling, taking in his tousled visage with a tenderness that mirrors his own. 

“Tea?” He lifts her mug. It’s the first word he’s spoken, low and thick with sleep, though the smoothness of his charming old school enunciation is permanent no matter how early it is. His slippers carry him across the distance between them as she sits up against the headboard, using a gray fur to modestly cover her chest. Reed doesn’t quite understand why. He’s seen, touched, kissed, licked — tasted every divine inch of flesh, left nothing to the imagination, memorized her very being within all five senses to where seeking her out has become a sixth … and yet, she divides them still. 

“Yes, thank you,” her wobbly morning voice calls him out of his thoughts, her fingers wrap around the mug, and draw it closer to herself. Reed’s large hand shoots out, takes hold of her wrist, pausing her movements altogether. Those big, youthful eyes stare at him expectantly, then shut for a heartbeat and a half when he tilts into her space to press a kiss to her lips. 

“Good morning,” he murmurs, hovering inches away until she repeats it back to him.

“Morning, Reed.” 

He watches her over the rim of his mug through the symphony of sips and sighs, hers rushed, his anything but, slowing down time as best as he could. The first ever morning after, months ago, he’d woken up alone, left with nothing but her scent on his pillow. With each night spent together following that fateful encounter, she granted him more and more time in the mornings; his second sunrise, making him the luckiest man in the cloudy city of Manhattan. 

“Busy day today?” He inquires after his final sip of coffee. His mug is empty, and he plucks hers off the bedside table to finish what remains of her tea, getting in his kisses while she dresses herself on the opposite side of the room. Answering him with an absent nod, she trudges closer, the hem of her navy blue sweater, embroidered with the Columbia University lion, brushing her thighs. His sweater, stolen so long ago that she’s forgotten its origin. 

“Do you see my panties anywhere?” she mumbles the query with utmost bashfulness, as though he wasn’t the one dragging that small strip of cotton down her thighs at sunset. Hooking both mug handles onto his fingers, Reed uses his unoccupied hand to toss the covers around. His search is uninspired, clumsy, but fruitful. Soon enough, that little white piece of fabric dangles from his fingers, a smug grin on his lips. So cute, he thinks to himself as she snatches it away, whispering, “Thank you.” 

Her departure never feels real until she’s near the door, sliding small, socked feet into those damned, convenient, comfy shoes. Gators, or something silly, she calls them, not even allowing Reed the extra couple seconds that it takes to tie a pair of sneakers. 

“ —  you later, then, Reed,” she’s saying, squeezing all two of the large fingers she can easily fit in her hold. He frowns, just ever so slightly, returning the gesture, his hand engulfing hers. With a tug, he leans down, and she rises to her tiptoes to peck the corner of his lips. 

“Later? Are you coming by again tonight?” He asks, sounding embarrassingly hopeful, still holding her hand near his chest, gaze stuck on those soft, plump lips as they part to answer. Her words strike him like a dagger through his heart, the confusion in her voice twisting the god forsaken knife until his ribs are left hollow. A dramatic internal reaction to such a simple sentence. 

“Like, in class.” 

“Oh… of course, sorry. Looks like I’m still waking up. Anyway, are you sure I can't give you a ride? It’s like the dead of winter outside.” How pathetic he must sound, how visible the longing in his brown eyes must be, for she places her palm over his heart, and smiles in a manner that draws the air from his lungs, easing the tenseness of his broad shoulders. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll catch the bus.” Fixing the strap of her bag on her shoulder, she steps backwards past his front door, turning halfway, pausing, then saying: “I’ll call you, and we’ll see about tonight.” 

He nods, the door shuts behind her, and if the world was watching, they’d see the genius Reed Richards break out into a joyfully lovesick dance in his drawing room.

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⠀⠀ ⠀ © CLUBSOFT⠀⠀ ⠀

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TAGLIST ⋆ @days1 / @luvrsluxe if u would like 2 be added 2 my tag list 4 my fics , pls click this link && fill out the form !! u will be added immediately && get a notif for my next fic !!

[yoursselo]

Birthday boy

a/n: happy international mason tony mount day to all who celebrate. i love mason sooooo much and thank god he was born. he not only graces the world with his pretty face but also is the reason why i have made so many friends on here. so this is a present from me to you! i hope you guys like it. love you lots 🩷

word count: around 1k

warnings: none

It was a beautiful day in Manchester. Despite the cold weather the sky was blue, and sunlight was beaming into your and Mason’s bedroom. It was 6 a.m., and you had just woken up. Normally, you would have stayed in bed longer to get some extra sleep and cuddle with Mason, however you had a tight schedule. Today was Mason’s birthday and you wanted the day to be extra special and unforgettable for him - one filled with love, warmth, and little surprises.

To get everything done on time, you carefully slipped out of bed, making sure not to wake up Mason with your movement. Before leaving the room, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and slipped into the hoodie he had worn the night before, that still smelled like him. On tiptoes, you made your way to the living room, where you took the balloons and the garlands out of the cupboard, ready to get to work. You blew twenty-six balloons up and made sure they were all floating against the ceiling. The table was decorated with photos of Mason through his years, each of them capturing a special moment in his life. Once the decorations were set, you started making breakfast. The smell of chocolate chip pancakes filled the air and you poured his favourite tea in a mug that said “#1 Boyfriend”, which you had gotten him as a Valentine’s Day gift during the early days of your relationship.

While you prepared the surprise, Mason slowly began to wake up. His hand instinctively reached for your side of the bed, seeking some morning cuddles, only to find it cold. He frowned and wondered where you were. Confused, he got up and began to dress for his recovery session.

When he was ready, he headed to the living room entirely unaware of the surprise waiting for him. The moment he entered the room Mason froze. His eyes widened as he took in the decorations—the balloons, the photos, the garland—and then his gaze landed on you, standing there with a huge smile, holding a plate of pancakes. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY!” you said, your voice full of excitement. Before he could say anything, you rushed over to him and planted kisses all over his face. You popped a party hat on his head and walked him to the decorated table. “Surprise”, you said gazing at him with affection. “What…? You did all of this?” he asked softly. “Of course, babe! Only the best for the birthday boy. Come on, sit down. You have got pancakes waiting for you.” “This is... incredible. Thank you so much,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He reached out to pull you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You always know how to make me feel better.” 

As you lit a single candle on the stack of pancakes and began singing “Happy Birthday”, Mason chuckled. “Make a wish,” you said waiting for him to blow the candle out. His face lit up with a smile, one you hadn’t seen in weeks. Seeing his smile brought you so much joy that you got emotional. As he leaned forward to blow the candle out, he paused. His gaze flickered at you, as he noticed that tears were welling up in your eyes. “Hey, babe. Why are you crying?” he said gently. “I don’t know honestly. I’m just really glad you were born. I love you so much. Now blow out the candle before it burns the pancakes.” You laughed, brushing the tears away. “Oh, baby,” Mason murmured, his voice soft and full of affection. “I am the happiest when I’m with you.” 

After blowing out the candle, he started on his pancakes. You guys chatted for a bit and enjoyed your joyful morning. Once everything was finished you handed him your first present. A leather-strapped watch with an engraving of the HMS Warrior on the back, an homage to his beloved hometown of Portsmouth. Mason ran his fingers over the engraving. “I can’t believe you thought of this. You don’t know how much this means to me.” He looked up at you, his voice thick with gratitude. “I’ll treasure this forever. One day, I’ll give it to our kids.” He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss.

Shortly after your beautiful morning, Mase left for training, which meant that you had to start getting ready for the evening. You tidied everything up and transformed the living room into a cozy heaven with soft blankets and pillows. For dinner you decided to make something different – Mason’s favourite: sushi!

By the time Mason returned home, everything was set. You also had changed into a nice dress with a set of lingerie underneath as his second present. When Mase stepped inside your house his eyes lit up at the sight of the cozy setup. “Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “You really went all out, didn’t you?” “All for you,” you teased, leading him to the table.

The two of you enjoyed your meal and cuddled on the couch, watching a movie.

Later that night, after the two of you made love, you were laying l in bed wearing one of Mason’s shirts, you reached under the bed for the final present. “I have one more thing for you,” you said, handing it to him.

Mason unwrapped the gift, his brows furrowing as he pulled out what appeared to be a comic book. Instead of Spider-Man on the cover, it was a beautifully illustrated version of Mason in a superhero costume.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

“Open it,” you urged, smiling.

As Mason flipped through the pages, his expression shifted from surprise to emotional. The comic told the story of his life, starting with his childhood in Portsmouth. It captured his early days playing football, his time at Vitesse and Derby, and his rise to fame at Chelsea. Each page was filled with vibrant details—his first goal, the Champions League win, and even some of his struggles.

When he reached the pages showing his time at Manchester United, Mason looked up at you with wide eyes. The final illustration depicted Mason standing tall in his superhero costume, with the words “To Be Continued” written in bold letters.

Mason stared at the page with teary eyes. “You did this... for me?”

You nodded, tears in your eyes. “You’re my hero, Mase. I wanted to show you how much you inspire me. You’ve faced so much, and you never give up. I wanted you to see your journey the way I see it—amazing and far from over. There’s so much more ahead for you, and I’m so glad I get to be by your side.”

Mason swallowed, his eyes brimming with tears. “I... I don’t even know what to say,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. “Thank you. For everything. For seeing me this way. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so grateful you’re mine.”

He kissed you deeply, his emotions pouring into the gesture. For the rest of the night, the two of you flipped through the comic together, marveling at the illustrations and reliving the memories that were captured. Finally, you both fell asleep in each other’s arms,  feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude.

[a-1mond]

How to Romanticize Your Study Sessions for Maximum Focus 🤍

Studying doesn’t have to feel like a chore, make it a vibe. When you romanticize your study sessions, you’ll actually look forward to them. Here’s how I turn my study time into a dreamy, productive experience:

1. Set the Mood with Lighting

Soft, warm lighting creates a cozy atmosphere that’s perfect for focus. Swap your harsh overhead light for:

• A chic desk lamp with adjustable brightness.

• Fairy lights or a Himalayan salt lamp for an extra glow.

• Candles (if allowed) for a touch of sophistication.

2. Create an Aesthetic Workspace

Your study space should feel like you. Clear the clutter and bring in elements that inspire:

• A minimalist desk setup with neutral or pastel tones.

• A vase of fresh flowers or eucalyptus stems for a natural touch.

• Coordinated stationery and planners for an effortlessly chic vibe.

3. Wear Your “Study Uniform”

I hate wearing the hoodie and sweats because it puts me in a lazy and tired mindset.

• A comfy yet cute matching lounge set.

• A messy bun secured with a silk scrunchie.

• Light, natural makeup to feel put-together (yes, even for studying).

4. Have the Perfect Playlist

Music is everything when it comes to setting the tone. Some ideas:

• Lo-fi beats for a calm, focused ambiance (my fav!)

• Instrumental movie soundtracks (think Pride and Prejudice or The Secret Garden).

• Nature sounds like rain or ocean waves if music is too distracting.

5. Add a Signature Drink

My girl moment isn’t complete without the perfect beverage. Some go-to options:

• An iced matcha latte in a clear glass with a reusable straw.

• A lavender or chamomile tea in a delicate mug.

• A sparkling water with lemon slices for a refreshing vibe.

6. Romanticize Your Study Tools

Your study tools should inspire productivity and aesthetic. Here’s how:

• Invest in high-quality pens, like Muji gel pens or mildliners.

• Use a stylish leather or vegan notebook.

• Organize your notes digitally with GoodNotes or Notion.

7. Incorporate Mini Breaks

Every study session needs balance. Take short breaks that keep the vibes alive:

• A 5-minute stretch routine to soft piano music.

• A quick journal entry reflecting on your study goals.

• Lighting a new candle to reset your focus.

8. Visualize Your Future Self

Tap into your main character energy:

• Imagine yourself acing exams, landing your dream job, or feeling like that girl who has it all together.

• Use a vision board or affirmations to stay inspired: “I am intelligent, disciplined, and unstoppable.”

I was inspired by @blissfullyecho to make these types of posts 🤍 thank you

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You yawn as you wrap yourself in a towel. The shower was less refreshing than it was draining. The heat robbed you of the last of your energy. 

You listen through the door. It’s a small house. You can hear will beyond even those walls. 

You hug your clothes and flit across the hall, leaving a cloud of steam and scent behind you. You shut your bedroom door and sigh. You’re exhausted. It’s only in the that moment that you feel all the tension that’s been nipping away at you. 

It isn’t Bucky’s fault. You’re a loner. When someone else is around, you always feel like you have to be on. 

You grab your phone. The bars are low. Tomorrow you’ll figure out how you can bitch out Sam, or at least get an answer about how long you can expect your house guest to be around. 

You pull on a baggy sweatshirt and pair of flannel pants. You stretch out your neck and stand. You step into your slippers as you approach the door with a shadow of dread. It’s not that you feel unwelcome in your own home, just unsettled. 

You let yourself out and leave the door open. You try not to make too much noise as you come down the hall. The front room is dark. You hesitate before you enter the kitchen. 

Quietly, you take down a mug and a bag of chamomile. You put the kettle on and hover by the counter. You cross your arms and shiver.  

You give a start as you hear a click. You glance over as a shadow enters through the front door. You didn’t even hear him leave. Bucky peeks in as the kitchen lights glare over him and gives a small wave. He takes his time unlacing his boots as he leans a hand on the wall. 

“Hey,” he says. “Cold?” 

“Just a little. It’ll be winter soon enough,” you bring your hand up to the neck of your shirt and pinch the fabric. 

“I’ll be honest, can’t really feel it,” he shrugs. “I can get the fire stove going.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have my tea and turn up the thermostat,” you assure him, rocking on your feet. 

“Right, sounds good,” he taps the door frame and retreats. 

The kettle flicks off and you pour the water. You fill the cup and lift it gingerly, careful not to touch the side. You shuffle to the door and turn off the lights. You wade through the gloom, only the glow of the lamp in the front room offering a way forward. 

As you pass the wide doorway, your eyes drift over instinctively. Keep going. You quickly hurry back to your room and hide. Again, you caught him in a moment. The muscles of his back weave into your mind and you shake way the vision. 

You set the cup down and tuck your feet under the covers. You peer over at the black window panes. Up there, the night is unmetered by civilization. Even when there’s a full moon it’s desolate. The trees rustle and the nocturnal creatures stir. 

You nurse your tea over the last chapter of a novel. Eh, not your favourite ending but it makes sense. You shut of the glass lamp and settle down to sleep. Your ears prick in the silence of the house. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy and the shell that comes over you is more a dizzy daze. Not quite awake, not quite unconscious. You can still hear the shifting of the house and the steady wailing of the wind. Your eyes ache with fatigue and your head pulses but you just can’t sink into the depth. 

Your eyes roll open but your body remains still. Locked and lifeless. Your gaze flicks back and forth. You’re self-aware of the waking coma. Your body and mind are disconnected as you’re trapped between layers of sleep. It happens time and again. 

You can see the room clearly but the darkness is rippled. You can sense something looming over you but the dark is so dense, your mind can only summon a twisted fear of the hallucinations. You focus on trying to break the sleep paralysis.

Just a finger. Move your finger. Move. Bend. Anything. 

You gasp as you finger twitches and you wake with a jarring lurch. The bed jolts beneath you and your head spin. There’s a weight on your neck. You’re still dreaming?  

As you reach to touch the warmth around your throat, it recedes, a tickle along the fabric of your sweatshirt. You whimper and sit up, scrunching yourself up against the headboard. You search the void, squinting as you try to see anything. The floor creaks and you squeak again. 

“Hello?” You gulp. 

You blink and focus on the soft outline of the door. It’s open. You think. The fuzzy rectangle tests your sanity. 

You shimmy to the edge of the bed. That childhood fear of something reaching out from underneath to grab your ankles makes you nervous. You get up and put your arms out. You cross the room a step at a time.  

You find the wall and feel along it. You flip on the light switch and back away from the open door. You shut it, didn’t you? Or maybe you got up and don’t remember. It’s all a bit foggy in the hangover of your episode. 

The bathroom door opens across from you and you cry out in surprise. Bucky emerges in the shine of light and peeks over at you. You shake your head and cough. He stares back with a confused stitch between his brows. Don’t look at his chest. Don’t think about how he’s shirtless. Again. 

“Sorry, I... I just...” you sputter and back up.  

You shut your bedroom door and cringe. You leave the light on as you retreat to the bed and bury yourself under the blankets. You know better than to sleep on your back, although you don’t think you’ll be getting much rest after that humiliating display. 

[vineet123]

Merakrt : tea cups set of 6 latest design

Enjoy the moment of Merakrt set of 6 attractive tea cups. premium design adds comfort to every sip. Tea cup set of 6 latest design

[hyunjincanraptoo]

helloo!! i was wondering if you could do prompt 6, love your work btw！

Hi, baby! Tysm, you are adorable 🥰

This is from my prompt list (complete now). Click here to check it out 😊

Word count: 677

No warnings

Alexa, play Off My Face by Justin Bieber

Hyunjin sketching you while you nap on the couch

The apartment was bathed in the soft golden light of late afternoon. You were wrapped in Hyunjin’s hoodie, curled up on the couch, sleeping quietly — the kind of nap that felt like floating. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep, you’d just wanted to rest your eyes for a second while Hyunjin set up his sketchbook. But the warm cushions, his oversized hoodie wrapped around you feeling like a hug, and the faint sound of his pencil scratching paper had lulled you.

From across the couch, Hyunjin sat with his legs crossed and the sketchbook propped against his thigh. He tilted his head, eyes tracing the curve of your cheek, the way your fingers curled loosely over the blanket, the way your lips parted just slightly in sleep. “You really don’t know what you do to me”, he mumbled under his breath to himself, smiling as he dragged soft lines over the paper.

Every so often, he'd pause to reach for his mug of tea, glancing up at you again like he was afraid you'd vanish. Then back to sketching, detail by detail— the strands of your hair against the pillow, the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the faint shadow under your lashes.

But then, you shifted in your sleep.

A soft sigh left your lips as you rolled onto the other side, hoodie slipping off your shoulder. Hyunjin chuckled softly, biting the edge of his thumb, “Are you doing this on purpose?”

You shifted again, eyes halfway open, dazed. “You’re staring, creep” “I’m drawing”, he said, lifting the sketchbook with a proud little grin. “You’re my muse”.

You yawned and stretched, arms above your head, the hoodie lifting up just a little, “Isn’t that cheesy?” “Very”, he said, “But you look so drawable right now”. You sat up lazily, squinting at his sketch, “Let me see” “No”. He said too quickly, clutching the sketchbook to his chest.

You sat up, grinning, “Hyunjin. Let me see” “Nope, not yet. You’re not supposed to see the art until the artist has finished. That’s the rule” “Oh, really?”. He laughed, already backing away as you threw yourself toward him, climbing over the couch cushions with only one mission. “Show me!” “No!”

“Hyunjin!”, you grabbed a pillow and smacked him in the chest with it. He gasped dramatically and retaliated with another pillow. Soon, the living room erupted into a soft, giggling chaos— pillows flying, laughter echoing, sketchbook nearly sacrificed in the battle. You tried snatching it from his lap, but he caught your wrists midair and flipped you onto the couch with a playful growl. “Cheater!”, you shouted through a laugh, “You started it!.

Before you could try again he slid his sketchbook to the side table, and gently pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist, pressing his nose into your neck. You were still breathless, heart racing from laughing too hard, but just like that, everything slowed again. His fingers brushed softly against your cheek, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “You smell like naps and laundry softener” “And you smell like pencils and ego”, you sulked.

He laughed into your skin, then pulled back just enough to kiss your jaw, slow and lazy. “Fine”, he whispered, “You win”. He reached for the sketchbook, opened it carefully, and turned it to face you.

And you froze.

It was you— soft, serene, dreamy in sleep. Every curve of your face, the arch of your brow, the delicate bridge of your nose— all captured with a tenderness only someone in love could draw. His finger trailed slowly along the sketched lines, outlining your features on paper.

“Look at you”, he murmured, “You don’t even know how beautiful you are”. Your breath hitched. Not because of the drawing, but because of the way he was looking at you— like you were home.

You leaned into his touch, fingers curling into the sleeve of his shirt, “Good thing I have you, then… To remind me”. He pulled you in, forehead against yours, and whispered, “Always”.

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

Also, I made a playlist with all the songs I recommend on this blog. You can find it here if you're interested in listening 💜