#u see it in the tags from time to time like

[wonustars]

Your Cat Loves You (Ft. Norbert)

𖥔. ˖ ࣪ 𓂃 pairing: kim mingyu x f. reader 𖥔. ˖ ࣪ 𓂃 genre: fluff, smut (R: 18+ mdni) 𖥔. ˖ ࣪ 𓂃 wordcount: 2.8k

𖥔. ˖ ࣪ 𓂃summary: you and mingyu finally have a moment to yourselves, or so you thought... 𖥔. ˖ ࣪  𓂃 tags/smut warnings: the way of the house husband couple, husband!mingyu, wife!reader, norbert is a silly little menace, dom!mingyu, brat-ish!reader, oral (m. receiving), creampie, dryhumping, facefucking, big dick!mingyu. 𖥔. ˖ ࣪  𓂃note: part 1 of the winter event is dedicated to @onlymingyus, ily sm marsie pie ♡! thank you to my two beta-readers! @ylangelegy and @junkissed, ily boaf what the flip!! special thanks to @cheolism and @wooahaeproductions for helping me w brainstorming ideas as well! i missed writing this couple so i hope you all enjoy hehe. lmk what you think of this one thru a reblog or a comment! see u in the next installment! - anna ♡

𖥔. ˖ ࣪  𓂃event masterpost

“I'm horny,” you pout as you place the book you’re reading down on the bedside table. 

Mingyu walks out of the connected bathroom, towel slung around his waist, eyes wide, staring at the way your figure lays sensually along the mattress. 

You’re turned onto your stomach, his large t-shirt draped over your body, the curve of your ass peeking through the bottom hem. Mingyu’s mouth runs dry, contemplating a response to your outcry of desperation. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he shrugs. 

The aforementioned towel is thrown across your bedroom with unbridled abandonment. Jumping onto the bed, he grabs your hips, turning you around as he straddles your torso. 

Calloused hands grasp onto your wrists, pinning them above your head. Mingyu dives in without much afterthought, connecting his plump lips onto yours. Raw and unashamed, there's vigour behind his actions, swallowing your lustful moans in the process. 

Unfortunately for you, there’s an abrupt pause. Mingyu pulls away from you, a frown along his swollen lips. 

“Where’s Norbert?” 

“I want your cock inside me and you’re busy thinking about the cat?” You roll your eyes, huffing out with annoyance. 

“I don’t want him seeing us,” Mingyu mumbles before standing up to check the door. 

A disgruntled groan leaves your lips. Leave it up to your husband to worry about the cat in the most compromising of situations. In other circumstances, this would’ve endeared you, but your body has been brimming with sexual tension. A tension that only Mingyu can resolve.

“Last time I checked he was sleeping in his room,” you sigh, sitting up to admire the dragon tattoo on Mingyu’s back. 

You never get tired of the black ink that adorns his skin, eyeing the way it creeps up onto his shoulders. It’s like a sweet treat every time. 

He peeks into the hallway and nods shortly after being met with the still air outside your room. No cat ready to scratch at his chest or steal his spot on your bed. As soon as he has confirmation that Norbert isn’t looming in the shadows of the long hallway, he rushes to lock the door before flopping back onto the mattress. 

Sitting against the headboard, he pulls you onto his lap, the unamused expression on your face vanishes as you feel his rock-hard length against your bare cunt. Mingyu’s groans are guttural as you hump himself along his member. Wet and ready for him to finally take you. 

“You done being paranoid?” your question comes out breathless as you continue to stimulate the nerves between your thighs. 

“Uhuh,” Mingyu mumbles. 

Large hands travel under the hem of your shirt, rubbing and squeezing your flesh before he reaches your tits. Full in his hands, he pulls the fabric till it hits your chin, perked nipples placing him in a trance. Mingyu's mind swirls as he tweaks each one between his fingers, your breath becoming ragged as his pace starts to quicken. 

The shirt you’re wearing becomes a nuisance quickly after, even though he enjoys seeing you in his clothes, Mingyu prefers when you’re wearing nothing at all. Removing the tee from your body, he drinks in your figure. 

“Fuck, this pussy is always soaking,” Mingyu mutters, eyes glued to where your bodies are connected. 

“Been trying to get to you fuck me all day,” you whimper. 

He chuckles at your desperation. Even though only two of you live in this large house, alongside your gremlin of a cat, Mingyu has found it hard to get you moaning underneath him for about a week. 

Norbert had been the number one culprit as to why you and Mingyu haven’t been able to fool around for the past few days. It started with your cat barging into your room right before anything other than a few innocent pecks were exchanged between the two of you. 

You don’t know how he’s learnt to turn door knobs, but his curiosity had been never-ending since you and Mingyu made things official. Then he started to drag Mingyu’s clothes into his litterbox. 

Neither of you knew what had caused Norbert’s spur of rebellious attitude, but you’ve slowly learned how to deal with it. Now the door to Mingyu’s closet remains locked, and you also make it a habit to lock the bedroom door each night as well. 

The sexual frustration between you and Mingyu had become so palpable that you’ve woken up to his morning wood four out of seven times this week. There have been a few blowjobs and hand stuff here and there, but you haven’t had his dick inside you for what feels like an eternity. You’re almost convinced that your cunt has forgotten what it feels like to be filled by him. 

In all honesty, you just miss the way his cum would spurt inside you every night. 

For the first time in a while, Norbert wasn’t needy for your attention, and you’d be damned to not take the opportunity while it was still in front of you. 

“God I need it so bad,” you whine. 

Nuzzling into Mingyu’s neck, your hips continue to sway back and forth, the slick between your thighs starting to coat your legs and his pelvis. 

“It’s been too fucking long,” Mingyu hums, hands tracing the curve of your ass. 

Moaning into his skin, you feel his palms squeeze the flesh with an iron grip. Forcing the fat to shake with the force of his touch. His free hand still groping your left tit. 

Mingyu almost blacks out, your hole catching his tip with each move you make. He can’t have you on top any longer. Thoughts of using you like his own personal sex doll rampage violently, his fully hard length starting to leak precum with your increasing pace. 

“Think you can take me without any prep?” he asks, and your legs visibly shake at his words. 

“I-I don’t know, probably not, you’re fucking massive.” 

A laugh bubbles up from his throat; he’s never fucked you without at least stretching you out first. But the thought is too tempting to not try at least once. 

“Willing to try for me, baby?” He whispers in your ear. 

“Mhm, I’ll do anything. Just need you inside me,” you whimper. 

“That’s my girl.” 

A hard slap comes down onto your ass, the skin stinging in a way that's both painful but so delicious at the same time. Your mouth almost waters at how good he feels against you, and he barely even touches you. 

“I’ll give it to you. But—” Mingyu starts but you cut him off. 

“But?” your pitch raises, not liking how he’s continuing to drag out the foreplay. 

“But you suck me off first.” 

“Fuck, really? That's it? Can't we do that after? I need you now,” you continue to whine, pretending like your walls aren't gushing at the idea. 

It doesn’t hurt to act spoiled once in a while. 

“You’re gonna suck me off or I’m not fucking you tonight.” Mingyu’s voice is stern. You can’t help but hide the smirk on your face. 

The pout on your lips is instantaneous. You need to see how far you can take the brat persona before Mingyu’s fed up. Hopefully, it leads to him flipping you over and fucking you into the next universe.

“But don’t you wanna fuck me now? It’s been too long,” you sigh, halting your movements to rub your hands against his muscular chest.

Your fingertips flow with appreciation for the hard muscle under your touch, his nipples erect as you swipe over them briefly. 

Mingyu’s eyebrows scrunch together, jaw slack as you continue to feel him up. Moving over to his biceps you give them a squeeze before peppering kisses along his collarbones then at the base of his neck. 

Entranced by your touch, Mingyu almost loses focus on who's really in control here. Almost. 

Throwing you off his lap, he stands at the edge of the bed. His cock bobs from how stiff he’s gotten from a bit of rubbing. Tip red and angry, the veins along his shaft almost look like they’re about to burst from all your teasing. 

“On your knees. Now.” He tells you, tone unwavering. 

With a defeated huff, you gingerly move towards the end of the bed. Your knees cause the mattress to dip, your hips in the air, giving him a little show of your ass. Mingyu’s jaw clenches, trying his best not to fold from seeing your body in such compromising angles. 

“Like this baby?” You look up at him as you prop yourself up with your elbows. 

“Good girl. Stay put for me, yeah?” 

You smile at his words of affirmation, one hand against the sheets while your other hand grips his length. There’s something about his dominating aura that radiates off of him when you’re about to blow him, it’s addicting. 

Placing his cock against your cheek, your eyes become doe-like as you stare up at him through your lashes.  

“See how big you are?” you mumble, the tip almost hitting your lashes as it’s pressed to the side of your face. 

“Fuck me…” Mingyu drawls out, unable to comprehend how sexy you look in this angle. 

Fisting your hair in his hands, he’s had enough of your attitude. Your jaw opens as if it's second nature, tongue shooting out, waiting for him to use your mouth like a fleshlight. He taps the tip against your tongue before tracing it around your pink lips. You look like an absolute dream. 

Without a second left to waste, he shoves the entirety of himself into your warm mouth, fucking it until your throat restricts and your gag reflex emerges. Groaning from above you, Mingyu continues to push your head up and down the length of his pulsating cock, relishing in the warmth that envelopes him. The heat sears into his veins, culminating before it spreads throughout his limbs. 

“Yeah, keep taking this cock,” Mingyu groans, fingers tightening around the strands of hair in his grasp. “Bet you love getting your mouth fucked, huh?” 

You moan in response to the filth spilling from his mouth. With furrowed eyebrows, you do your best to breathe through your nose in an attempt to keep yourself from gagging further. 

Mingyu’s thrusts slow down, not wanting to bust a nut until he’s inside that sopping cunt of yours. You know he’s saving the best for last as he removes himself from your mouth with an audible pop. 

“Turn around.” He grunts, but you don’t move. 

As you catch your breath, Mingyu tsks at your reluctance to do what he asks of you. Slapping your cheek, he wakes you from your cock drunk trance. 

“What did I say? You were begging for me to be inside you less than ten minutes ago,” He laments. 

“I’m tired. You do it,” your smile hidden. 

He’s right where you want him. 

You continue to lay there, waiting for him to give up and take matters into his own hands. Without missing a beat, he grapples you until your ass is up in the air. The view of your glistening folds welcoming him as if he’s carved out a special place for his cock inside you. The familiar sheen of your arousal and puffed-up clit greet his length as you wiggle your hips for him. 

The smack of skin resounds against the walls of your room, your pussy clenching around nothing as Mingyu continues to hit your cunt until the juices gush past your entrance. 

“Holy fu-uck,” you choke out, face slamming into the mattress. 

Hands clutched onto the sheets, your eyes squeeze shut as you feel Mingyu’s tip tracing around your hole. Smearing the wetness seeping from your folds before you hear him spit onto your leaking pussy. 

“Hmph, shit!” you squeak, the heat of his spit dripping down the expanse of your sex. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” Mingyu praises you before plunging his cock into your awaiting warmth. 

The stretch is nearing unbearable, and the pain of his cock filling you almost causes you to pass out. But it’s satisfying all at the same time. He’s only halfway in, but your breath labours, chest heaving as you continue to take what he gives you. 

“So tight, you’re squeezing me like crazy,” Mingyu gasps, vision turning white as he continues to force himself inside you. Your moans increase in pitch as Mingyu bottoms out. Filling your walls till the hilt of his cock is pressed up right against your ass cheeks. Warm palms grope at your skin, slapping and squishing the flesh till handprints begin to appear. 

“G-gyu, please I need you to move. Fuck, I could cum right now,” you whine, squeezing his length involuntarily from how unprepared you are to take him. 

He agrees to your request without another word. Pulling back till only the tip of his cock is left only to ram his hips back into you. The sound of skin on skin hitting one another fills the room. Mingyu’s speed is steady as he thrusts in and out of you. 

The moans you let out almost sound as if you’re in pain, but it’s the complete opposite. Pleasure courses through your veins until you feel it in your toes, you’re a-dick-ted to the feeling of having him inside you. 

“You wanna cum? Show me how much you deserve to cum on this cock, baby,” Mingyu speaks through strained groans. 

Relishing in your wetness, he knows he’s about to fill you with his seed. His balls retract with each movement he makes, he can only wish to stay inside you forever. 

Without anything stopping you, your pussy convulses around him as you orgasm. The breath is knocked out of your chest, your fingers still wound tightly around the threads of your bedsheets. 

“I fucking love you, baby,” Mingyu practically wheezes, moving his hand to push your head further into your sheets. 

The flood of semen fills your walls, so much so that it dribbles past your entrance and onto both his dick and the bed beneath you. There’s so much, and it’s like his climax is never ending, cum continuing to shoot itself into your needy cunt.

Panting, you allow yourself to flop unceremoniously onto the bed. Tired and finally ready for bed, you wait for Mingyu to dislodge himself from you. A whimper leaves your lips as he finally unsheaths his softening member from your heat. His touch is as soft as a mouse, he pushes the hair out of your eyes before kissing your temple. 

“You did so good, baby. I’m gonna clean you up okay?” 

“Okay, baby,” you whisper. 

Unsure of how many seconds have passed, Mingyu comes back with a warm cloth. He wipes you and himself clean before moving you so that you’re lying on the bed properly. 

“We needed that,” he says in hushed chuckles. 

“I agree,” you laugh along with him. 

Right as you’re about to close your eyes, the door creaks open. The small shadow of your cat catches the candle's light by the TV stand. The pitter-patter of Norbert's paws fills the once-quiet room. 

Turning to Mingyu, your expression is evident that you’re ready to scold him for not locking the door. But before you can get a word in he’s already defending his case. 

“I promise, baby, I locked the door. I'm serious, please don’t kill me.” Mingyu pleads, hiding himself in your bare chest. 

“Kim Mingyu. If you locked the door, then Norbert wouldn’t be here right now,” you explain. 

Mingyu sighs, his warm breath leaving goosebumps against your skin. And he continues to swear that he really did lock the door, and even checked thrice to make sure it was secure. 

Norbert meows out, hopping onto the bed before scratching into Mingyu’s back. 

“What the fuck! Ow!” He yelps, Norbert’s claws continuing to paw at him. 

Defeated, Mingyu moves away from you. The pout on his lips accentuates as he’s forced to sleep beside your demon cat. Norbert’s scratching ceases at his surrender, moving into his rightful spot between you and Mingyu. 

Purring with satisfaction, the pleased cat purrs against you, nose nuzzling into your side. 

“Goodnight baby,” you murmur. 

The blanket is pulled up to your chest, your body facing the small cat perched at your left side. His eyes were round yet also filled with knowing. As if he did have the capability to somehow unlock the door to your bedroom from the outside. Knowing Mingyu’s forgetfulness, you decide that it’s simply not possible. 

“Goodnight,” Mingyu replies wistfully, but you send him a pointed look. 

“I’m talking to Norbert, Gyu.” 

“Whatever.” he huffs at your unamused expression, before attempting to inch closer to you. 

Norbert hisses at Mingyu’s sudden movements before snuggling closer to you. 

“Goodnight Norbert,” Mingyu sneers but pets the feline with affection despite his attitude. 

Norbert meows in return, tapping Mingyu’s cheek with his paw before settling into a deep sleep. 

Kim Mingyu - 0 

Norbert - 1

𖥔. ˖ ࣪ 𓂃 a/n: thank you for reading! please leave a reblog or comment if u enjoyed this little bonus scene! if you'd like to be notified when i post the next one send me an ask or fill out the taglist form located in the winter event masterpost! talk to u soon! - anna ♡

[nights-nonsensical-ramblings]

Ahhh thank U hope the day is good!

right back at ya @aphantimes 💖. Got great art, makes me think about paper craft and your concept sketches do so well at conveying emotion and the feel of the scene, you got really goodbrain thoughts and I Love vibing with you. Very cool person.

@charleecat-bat you’re also getting a tag from me cuz you’re so cool. I adore your aus, their art and all the thought put into them. It’s been a lot of fun throwing things back and forth with you. You always give so much care to all the characters

@mama-qwerty you have super good character analysis takes and do really great hit with the angst then heal with the wholesome. And you’ve helped me many times this year so big thank you for that. And I’ve seen you give wonderful kind advice for your anons to.

@quazart you have a super cute and huggable art and you have such creative designs. You do such a good job at scenes with lots of characters and things going on and it’s still so clear and able to pick out so many details.

@mcfanely I’ve had so much fun talking and coming up with ideas with you. You’ve got such a great energy and i wanna thank you for helping to create the server that lead to me meeting and getting to know so many of these amazing people.

@acespeon you’re another person I’m always very happy to seen in my notes. You’ve been really great to interact with and I’ll be happy to chat whenever.

@guardian-of-da-gay yet another really cool writer/artist. (Amazing job on how much you got out during whumptober btw. Really impressive feat.)

@mushroomflood you to are an amazing artist! You make the characters look so sweet and vibrant. (And the same brain moments always give me a smile)

@sayurime I love chatting to you too! I really like so many of the concepts you come up with and chatting about them to.

@rapidhighway i must say I love the stuff you got going with licho and knuckles, super great dynamic there.

@heckinconfusedparade we may not have chatted in a bit but I still think of you with so much fondness

ands there’s plenty of people I see popping up again and again in my notes that make me go “oh hey it’s you :D” i appreciate your presences and makes me smile when I’ve seen you go through and like/reblog a bunch of my posts.

positivity train!

if you see this or are tagged in it, tag a couple of your favorite mutuals/blogs and let them know you appreciate seeing them on your dash!

@h0neysugarfree @blueberrylovv @bequiteanddriveeeeeee @cherri-bomb-bomb @eg0mechan1c @fatrexicisback

[foodiegoogie]

pahinga (rest)

remus lupin x fem!reader | 1.7k

summary: remus can’t sleep again. luckily, you come to save him, and he finds his rest in you. cw/tags: self-deprecation, slight anxiety (?), three little eepy bois and one (1) insomniac, peter pettigrew appears (he’s not corrupted here), hurt/comfort <3 note: 'pahinga' means rest in filipino. its root word, 'hinga,' means 'to breathe/breath.' the 'pa' part can make it literally mean, 'let me breathe.' also, u can never have too much “reader patches up remus after a full moon” fics 🥰🥰 p.s. the vibes are inspired from isa lang (only one) by arthur nery <3

It’s way past midnight in the Hospital Wing, and Remus knows this because his friends are knocked out around him; James is sprawled out like a starfish on a cot to his left, Sirius laid asleep at the edge of Remus’ own cot, and Peter had long since made himself comfortable in the cot on the right, curled up in a blanket. 

Usually, they’d be up late with Remus. Something about boys being boys, having an endless amount of energy surging within themselves. But they were also only human at the end of the day, despite being unregistered Animagi. 

Remus also knows that he should be asleep himself alongside his best friends, but this particular night had taken a toll on him. Sure, he’s had full moon nights happening every month, every year, ever since he was turned at four years old. But regardless of how frequent they took place, it never became easy to deal with for the lycanthrope. Especially not now while he’s unable to sleep.

Poor Madam Pomfrey—she’d given Remus countless potions to aid him in his condition, time and time again. But it seems like even the Sleeping Draught that was brewed for him earlier just couldn’t work on him either.

Thinking about failing to fall asleep is ironically keeping him from falling asleep. Remus Lupin is, quite frankly, stressing out about not being asleep yet. He knows he needs it, so why can’t he do it? He almost feels immensely envious of how easy it was for his own friends to have fallen asleep quicker than he did, and he was the one who turned into a werewolf that night. 

Remus turns his head to get a look at Sirius’ slumbering face where it lay at the edge of his cot. Sirius is a handsome being, whether asleep or not. But right now, his wide-awake friend doesn’t know whether to be glad because he gets to appreciate his friend’s company because he’s asleep, or if said friend should be frustrated for the very same reason.

Before Remus even gets to decide however, he hears footsteps scurrying towards the entrance of the Hospital Wing. He perks up at the sound, attempting to sit up in his cot but failing, wincing as he was reminded of his injuries.

He doesn’t know which comes first: the sound of the double doors being pushed open or the bags of chocolate falling to the ground, coming from your arms.

Remus’ bleary eyes flicker over to your incoming presence - how he knows you’re here for him is needless to say with the bags of chocolate you’re re-gathering in your arms presently. He sees you throw an apologetic glance, mouthing “sorry,” but Remus receives it with a lazy smile, more amused and fond than it was teasing.

“Hope I didn’t wake them,” You whisper to him as you approach his cot, looking warily at the three slumbering boys surrounding him. Remus feels compelled to follow your gaze towards them, address that you didn’t actually wake them (and he’s certain that you didn’t, the lads sleep like a log), but his eyes remain on you as well as his smile.

“What’re you doing here?” He murmurs.

You scoff quietly, giving him an incredulous look. “What, not even a ‘hello, how are you?’ You’ve changed, Lupin.” 

Remus’ smile widens at your words, the familiar banter bringing a lighthearted feeling in his chest. He doesn’t know if it’s because of his fatigue mixed with frustration that’s making him feel lightheaded, but he finds himself momentarily entranced by the sight of you as you start to near him in his cot. The moonlight which filtered through the windows finally landed on your features, and Remus was convinced at that moment that he’s met an angel in person: you.

“Anywho, I come bearing gifts,” You perch yourself on the edge of his cot, setting down the array of chocolates beside him. Remus shifts so that there’s more room for you in his bed.

He looks down at the sweets, the corners of his lips quirking up into a lazy smile, then looks back up to you. 

“Dark or milk?” Remus asks.

You furrow your eyebrows, giving him an incredulous look to which the boy grins at. “Milk, duh. I’m not dumb, Remus. You only go for dark when you’re feeling fancy.”

It’s true; Remus doesn’t like dark chocolate as much as he likes milk chocolate, which is a classic and a whole lot sweeter than the former. He tries not to think too hard about how you knew that about himself like it was just sitting casually in the place of your mind. He wonders, then, about what else you knew about him, and took care to remember and save for times like this. His heart races at the thought. 

“Did you come all the way here to butcher me for my taste in chocolate? Flattering, really,” Remus quips, reaching for one of the chocolates.

“No. I came here to do just that and more actually,” You mirror his actions, unwrapping the chocolate from its plastic shell, popping the whole treat in your mouth all in one go. 

It’s a lot more attractive than Remus would like to admit - you being so unapologetically yourself, uncaring about being seen as prim and proper. Here you are, sitting in front of him, munching on the chocolates you’ve brought him and looking like a squirrel stuffing nuts in its mouth for the winter. Adorable, he thinks.

But then your eyes narrow at him, and he’s caught in the act of shamelessly staring at you. It’s only then that he realizes that he has been staring at you.

“See something you like?” You wriggle your eyebrows suggestively, reaching for another chocolate from the dwindling bunch on the bed.

“No,” His voice comes out a little breathy, an octave a tad higher than what’s normal. Remus clears his throat. “Just- it’s amazing how you keep going.”

You pause mid-bite into another chocolate drop, putting it back inside its plastic wrap with a sheepish smile. “Right, I brought these for you. Not for me.”

“S’alright,” Remus smiles fondly at your suddenly shy expression. “I couldn’t finish them all by myself, anyway.”

A soft chuckle falls from your lips, shoulders relaxing from his reassuring words. Even in such a state, Remus still goes out of his way to make sure people are cared for in his own, heartwarming ways. But rarely does he ever take the time to inflict the same kind of treatment to himself. 

And, speaking of which—

“I thought you’d be asleep, you know,” You blurt out all of a sudden, fidgeting with the unwrapped, uneaten chocolate in your hands. “coming here. So… why aren’t you?”

“Dunno,” Remus lets out a deep sigh, his fatigue finally coming through in his expression. Your chest tightens at the sight and sound of it.

Finally, he finishes, saying, “I just… can’t.”

Almost instantly, a knot forms between your brows at the same time the corners of your lips turn downwards into a slight frown. Remus hates being pitied. He’s had enough of people apologizing on his behalf, as if he had been a mistake in the first place long before he was given this unfortunate tragedy, a weight he has to bear on his shoulders for the rest of his life. 

But with you, it’s never pity that he sees in your eyes when you look at him. It’s something warmer, something that’s coming from a deeper place of intent. Something like care—genuine care, and concern. Perhaps there’s more than that, but Remus is already dizzy enough as it is right now, and he doesn’t want to render himself unconscious just because he’s feeling a little lovesick by you. 

“Oh no, I’m keeping you up, aren’t I?” You say, and Remus is a bit startled by it. You don’t notice. “Should I leave? I– I feel like I should leave—”

“No, no. Just—” Stay.

Remus reminds himself to be very careful with his next words, lest he betrays his true feelings and ruins one of the few good things he has in his godforsaken life. 

Another thing that he hates is owing people something, or anything really. It’s no big deal for him to go out of his way and be the giver rather than the receiver out of a pair, but it bothers him to no end to think that he’d actually have people do something—anything just for him. 

For some reason, it just feels… wrong for him. Almost as if Remus believes that he doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment. 

But for the love of Merlin, he’d really like to get some sleep, and he really likes you being here with him. And if you walked right out of the Hospital Wing right now, leaving him alone, Remus is certain that he’d be getting no sleep at all. 

So, just this once, he’ll be selfish. 

“Just… just talk to me. Tell me about your night.” 

You furrow your eyebrows, a slightly amused smile coming alive on your face as you ask, “My night? Well, my night’s going pretty well right now.”

Remus rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face betrays his true emotions. “Tell me about your day, then.” 

Now, a full-blown grin takes place on your face. “Now that I can do.”

And so, you start telling him about your day in a hushed voice, careful not to be too loud as you recount something that had made you happy during the day so as not to wake the other three boys you’re surrounded by. 

Far along the way as you’re speaking to him, your hands—yours and his—drift closer and closer to each other. Remus wonders if you notice this, even as you’ve taken ahold of it now and started to play with his fingers absentmindedly.

Before he knew it, he was on the way to dreamland by the ticklish yet gentle feeling of you tracing the lines of his palm, coupled by the soft timbre of your voice, low and sweet. 

It is then that Remus realizes that he finds his absolute rest in you. 

A shame that he managed to miss the featherlight kiss you leave on his forehead as you bid him a good night, though. 

aaa thank you for reading! (づ￣ 3￣)づ as always, likes, replies, and reblogs are very much appreciated !! <3

[yeoslattes]

Courts and Stands

Genre: smut, college AU

Pairings: band geek!Hongjoong x fem volleyball player!reader

Summary: after a small interaction, you have your eyes set on Hongjoong not knowing he's been after you for a while.

Warnings: smut, no dom/sub themes necessarily but Hj is lowkey kinda subby, more experienced reader, semi experienced Hongjoong, he's in love with her literally, Seonghwa cameo (ofc), slight pervy thoughts from Hj, unprotected sex, blow job, swallowing, cunnilingus, slight overstimulation if u squint (fem receiving), he is surprisingly good at being a munch, pussy drunk Hongjoong bc yes, reader on top, accidental creampie, hongie kinda loses control

A/N: im back with a new fic, lowkey it’s a bit tame but Hj is so cute in it. Decided to drop early because why not!!! Hope you guys enjoy :))) my asks are always open for anything!!

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If you mess this chance up, you kiss bye bye to the championship finals. Your team is on a 3 point run, your teammates are exhausted as are you. Your knees have rubbed raw from the thick material of your knee pads, yet you can barely feel the pain from the adrenaline. Playing the libero position for one of the nation’s top universities was not light work. You knew you were good at it, no need to doubt yourself; you had all the medals and trophies to prove it. Yet somehow, a knot always formed in your throat during important matches like this one.

The crowd goes wild as your teammate serves the ball perfectly over the net. You’re quick on your feet, hovering over the open areas, trying to cover as much ground as you possibly can. You’re on your toes as the opposing team’s hitter floats up in the air to slam the ball down. The ball bounces hard on the floor as your response is a little delayed; immediate point for the other team. You sigh in annoyance but huddle with your teammates, patting each other's backs and yelling encouraging words.

“C’mon guys we got this!”

The process repeats itself; the world moves in slow motion around you as you read the opposing team’s play. You watch as the tall girl soars through the air, her arm bending far behind her to bring down against the poor ball. You fall to your knees, arms extended, setting a strong platform as the ball ricochets perfectly towards your team’s setter. The crowd yells loudly, the fans on the edge of their seats as your outside hitter puts the ball away against the other team. The six of you on the floor cheer loudly. Two more points and this would all be over, but there was no time to relax.

The next two points fly by and suddenly you’re huddled on the gym floor with all your teammates. You guys had done it, you were going to the finals. The cameras surrounded you, all taking different angled pictures all while the famous sports broadcasting network attempted to get an interview with the 6 players in the starting line up.

***

The gym was clearing up except for a few of the camera crew people. Hongjoong sat watching some guys roll up some thick black cables wondering why he hadn’t picked a major that allowed him to be more involved than being on the stands playing a clarinet. He checked his phone expecting a message from Yeosang. When he doesn’t see anything he decides to kill time by scrolling on instagram. The school had already posted celebrating the semi finals win, he saw you in the picture and couldn't help but smile. It was a rather intense action shot of you. Your hands are fists in the air as you celebrate. He taps on the picture and your tag pops up. He’s about to scroll through your feed when he sees someone approaching him from his peripherals. When he looks up he sees Yeosang; he’s still sporting his cheerleading uniform with a backpack slinged over his shoulder.

“Ready?” he asks,

Hongjoong nods, fumbling with his phone which Yeosang catches a glimpse of. The pretty brunette smirks in a teasing manner.

“You’re stalking now?”

Hongjoong shoves him.

“Shut up, ‘m not stalking…just admiring.”

Yeosang giggles at his roommate's words.

“You should-”

“Can we not Yeo?” Hongjoong shuts him down because he knew exactly where he was going with this; they’d had this convo once or twice before. The pretty boy lifts his hands up in defeat, a low chuckle resonating in the empty hallway that led out of the arena.

***

“Alright class. With winter break coming up, it’s important you stay on top of your work.”

Murmurs erupted within the class at the professor’s speech, everyone knew this spiel always led to some type of project. Hongjoong looked around at his peers confused, any project that was thrown his way he’d be more than happy to complete.

“I’m going to have you all write me a four page essay on a song of your choice. I want it to be a song that resonates with you. It’s also only four pages with no specific word count. I'm making this easy for you, the rest of the details will be up on Blackboard. Good luck, class dismissed, have a great winter break.”

The students erupt into motion, scurrying out of the class. Hongjoong drapes his backpack over his shoulder and makes a straight beeline for the library, determined to finish this essay today.

You on the other hand stay behind, you curiously watch the boy with glasses rush out of the lecture room. Your friend watched him and starts laughing,

“Ah Hongjoong, top of the class always. How much you wanna bet he’s headed for the library right now.” Kimmy says, walking slowly beside you as you both make it through the doors.

“Kimmy don’t be mean. He’s committed just like we are towards the team.” At your words your friend sighs,

“I’m not ready for this championship game at all, we have to win this national title to keep the school’s rep going.” An uneasy feeling rushes through you the more you process her words.

“I know,” you sigh.

“but…I can’t think about the next match right now. Imma focus on this essay, it may give me some peace of mind. I’ll catch you at practice later.” Kimmy smiles and gives you a side hug.

“Don’t stress, see you later!” She waves you off as you head towards the library.

When you step through the library oak doors, you immediately spot Hongjoong nose deep in his computer as he typed away. You frown at how easy it must come to him since his major is literally music related. You huff and walk past the table he's sitting at and plop on the table in front of him.

You sit there staring at your computer screen after spending 45 minutes scrolling through your Spotify playlists trying to pick a song. When you lift your eyes, Hongjoong is still typing away, he’s now joined by the silver haired nerd Seonghwa. Seonghwa was part of the robotics club and was also in band like Hongjoong. You often saw him in the stands next to his brunette friend.

He’s focused on the lego set he’s building. Suddenly, the top of his head becomes more interesting, as you notice the way his roots are slowly growing back. Your eyes shift to Hongjoong and you meet his eyes momentarily before he looks down. You cock a brow up at him and shift in your seat leaning forward towards your blank computer screen.

You huff loudly in annoyance and stand up, the mahogany chair scraping loudly despite the carpeted floors. The noise catches both of the nerd’s attention, their eyes now on you. You grab your computer and walk over to their table. Seonghwa’s mouth is slightly agape as he watches you. Hands frozen as he grips onto a lego piece. When you sit down you notice the way Hongjoong gulps.

“Hey!” You smile, you watch them curiously, they both let out a squeaked ‘hello’.

“Sorry if this is random, but Hongjoong we are in the same class and I was wondering if you could lend me some help with this essay.” Hongjoong’s wide eyes remain on you, he finally blinks the shock away.

“Uh yeah.” He clears his throat. “What do you need help with?”

“Well I have my song, The Night We Met by Lord Huron. But I’m struggling on applying it towards my essay.”

He nods attentively leaning back

“Well, tune into the song, and describe how it makes you feel. Explain what kind of memories come up when you listen to it. And relate certain situations that you’ve been in to the song. That's Basically the whole synopsis of the assignment.”

You nod, comprehending his explanation. Suddenly you begin typing away on your computer, the pair stares at you expectantly as you remain on their table and work on your assignment. They give each other a look and Seonghwa makes a face at his friend before focusing back on his legos. Eventually you had reached your 4 pages, barely, but you’d hit the mark. You smile proudly as you save the document.

“Thank you so much Hongjoong!” You say packing up your bag.

“When do you guys have band practice?” You ask, standing by the table.

“Uh, tomorrow actually.” Seonghwa replies, adjusting his glasses.

“Fun! If I am correct, we will be practicing then as well. I’ll see you guys! Here’s my number if you ever need anything, you’ve been a great help. Thanks again Joong.”

The nerdy boy sits slumped and confused at the whole interaction.

“bro…” Seonghwa chimes in, excitedly pulling at his friend’s shoulder.

Hongjoong shrugs just as shocked.

“She called me Joong.” is the only thing he can get out. He’s incredibly smitten by you, the thought of the nickname making him feel all fuzzy on the inside. He smiles leaning back burying his flushed face in his hands.

***

“You're sloppy!” Coach yells at you.

Your gaze is focused on the stands, you search for Hongjoong and you spot him next to a head of silver hair. He sits quietly, clearly spacing out. His friend next to him yaps excitedly about whatever to Mingi who was also part of the robotics club with Seonghwa. Are they all in band? You ask yourself but get brought back to reality by your coach calling your name.

“Focus, We are not winning a national championship with this performance!” She yells

“Yes coach!”

You do your best to center yourself back to the task at hand. You take a deep breath lowering yourself into your receiving position. As soon as the ball is over the net you go for it, but instead of a smooth pass the ball flies off your arms and into the stands. You sigh and roll your eyes in pure frustration.

“Okay no, everyone a lap right now! Grab water and get your asses back here as soon as you're done.” Coach is red in the face at the team’s poor performance, but you’re almost sure you’re the main root of the problem.

“Why are you so distracted today?” Kimmy asks, she squeezes water into her mouth.

You shrug,

“I actually have no idea Kimmy.” You say, looking back towards the stands, but you kind of did.

Kimmy follows your gaze and tongues her cheek and scoffs in a playful manner.

“No way,” she nudges you,

“The top nation team’s libero is interested in a band geek? Which one of the three?” You hush her,

“Stop it, no. Hongjoong just helped me with my essay yesterday, that's all. I wanna properly thank him.” The redhead raises her eyebrows playfully,

“I know of ways you can thank him.” At that you shove her,

“Hey hey, I'm okay with running laps because of your poor performance if it means you finally have someone.”

“Kimmy oh my god. Focus .” You shake your head

“Says you.”

***

Hongjoong watches the volleyball team practice unfold before him. His band instructor has given them directions for whatever song they’d been practicing for the last week and Seonghwa is blabbing to him about something but he can barely focus. His wandering eyes roam over your frame. He swallows thickly at the way your legs and ass look in the short spandex. The warmup shirt with the university colors hugging your frame just right.

“Close your mouth, you’re gonna catch flies.” Seonghwa leans and whispers to him. He might’ve been spacing out this entire time, but that brings him back to reality. He shakes his daze away and looks around, his cheeks tinting pink from slight embarrassment.

“Stop it.” He tells his silver haired friend.

“Yeah, but you’re the one drooling over the volleyball player. I must admit those shorts do her right.”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes,

“Don’t talk about her like that.” He whispers smacking Seonghwa upside the head.

“Gentlemen, let's focus on our instruments please, not side conversations.”

Hongjoong looks down, feeling the gaze of his band peers on him. Taking a deep breath he does his best to follow along. Though his eyes steal glances of you periodically.

***

Practice had kicked your ass. Never had you felt more distracted by anything, much less anyone. You stand under the shower, at this point you were the last one that remained in the locker rooms. The warm water relaxes your muscles and calms down the slight shivering that rattled through you.

You dress in a relaxed outfit, ready to get back to your dorm and sleep. When you walk out of the locker room you are met by Hongjoong. He’s leaning against the wall, looking down at his phone. At your footsteps his head snaps up. His eyes soften when he realizes it’s you,

“Hey hongjoong!” You greet him.

He gives you a small wave.

“Hi, practice looked good.” He compliments.

He suddenly regrets saying that in fear he sounded stupid, in reality he had no idea what was going on during your practice.

“Eh, not my best performance but thank you anyway.”

“Uh, are you waiting for someone?” You ask him, tightening your grip on the pink duffle bag on your shoulder.

“Yes actually, I’m waiting for Yeosang but his practice is running later than usual.”

“Yeosang? The one on the cheer team?” You asked rather surprised.

“Yes that’s him…” awkward silence falls between you two.

“Okay well, I was gonna go back to my dorm and sleep but I’m suddenly craving a sweet treat. Care to join?” You send him a sweet smile, your wide eyes gleaming as you waiting for his answer.

“Uhm…sure why not.” Hongjoong lets out an airy laugh, adjusting his instrument carrier on his back; you both begin the journey to the boba shop.

Hongjoong didn’t have much of an appetite for sweet things but he’d eat an entire bakery if it meant getting to spend time with you. He settles on a matcha milk, he’s about to pull out his card to pay but isn’t able to get his wallet out before you place your card against the reader. The small machine beeps in approval and he watches you grab your receipt from the cashier.

“Why did you do that?” He chuckles, you turn to look at him and he almost falls on his knees.

“Because, you helped me with my essay.”

“But…you did most of the work I just-”

“Jeez, just take the damn drink.” You chuckle,

“It’s okay, this is my way of repaying you.” You stab the thick straw through your drink and take a sip.

Hongjoong’s eyes are big behind his glasses as he focuses on the way your lips wrap around the straw. He wonders what they would look like around…

“This is so good, oh my gosh.” You moan, he swallows thickly and chuckles nervously, finally getting around to trying his drink. He hums at the way the sweetness of the matcha invades his taste buds, trying to play off the way he almost choked on a boba pearl.

Finally you begin your journey to your dorm. You both walked side by side silently, the winter night biting into your cheeks. It’s not long before you’re standing in front of the entrance to the dorm building.

You open your mouth to say something but are interrupted by the loud ping of a phone that is clearly not yours. Hongjoong shimmies his phone out of his pocket, he stares at the screen for a moment before sighing in pure exhaustion and slight annoyance.

“You okay?”

He nods,

“Yeah I’m fine, Yeosang is going over to this girl’s house but he has our dorm key and I lost my copy.” He sticks his phone back in his pocket.

“Oh…well I know it’s not allowed but do you wanna come in? You can kill time here, maybe even take a nap, you know whatever you need.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened, you? Inviting him? To your dorm? He couldn’t wrap his head around that but he thanked Yeosang in his head. He’s quiet for a minute, a strangled noise emitting from his throat. When he sees the way you cock a brow up at him he composes himself.

“Sure.”

You grab his hand and pull him inside. You look around the corner for the RA and when the coast is clear you tug him into the elevator and up to the last floor. Quickly running to your room, letting out a heavy huff when you’re in safely.

“No roommates?” He asks, setting his backpack down and taking your room in.

“Uh no, no roommates. Got lucky with that one.”

You settle comfortably on the small couch in the corner, curiously watching him as he studies all the pictures stuck to your wall.

Eventually he joins you and just like that you begin talking. The pair of you conversate for what feels like hours. You both exchange your passions for your majors, as well as where you were both from. Slowly but surely you felt closer to him, only then realizing that you truly enjoyed his company. On the inside you’re smiling at how much he had visibly relaxed.

“Why are you talking to me?” He suddenly asks.

“Why not?”

“You don’t think it's weird?” You shake your head at his question.

“Why would it be? Because I have a “popularity” status?” you ask, raising your fingers in quotations.

Hongjoong nods silently.

“No, that means nothing to me. I like you, ever since you helped me with that final essay. Not everyone is so willing. Plus I know you’re an absolute academic weapon and that’s cool.”

His cheeks flush a bright pink and suddenly he’s looking down, trying to shy away from your gaze.

You shift closer to him and he remains frozen in his spot. Hongjoong’s stare lingers on your lips before shooting back up to meet your eyes. Without thinking much of it he leans in very slowly, it was like his body was set on autopilot. With one final look into his eyes you press your lips against his. His glasses are pressed against your face as your lips work against his. He’s tense, but the more worked up you both get the more his body decompresses. Finally he brings a hand to your cheek deepening the kiss. You gain the courage to climb up on his lap, he pulls away, and you look at him with a slight worry on your face.

“I haven’t-” he shakes his head catching his breath,

“Only once or twice but I’m not that-.” You cut his rambling off.

“It's okay, just let me do the work and follow my lead.” He nods, his glassy eyes looking up at you.

You press your lips against his again, your hands encircling around his wrists to lay his hands on your hips. You grind down against him and his breath hitches and you almost smirk into the kiss. He’s hard underneath you and your panties only get stickier by the minute. He groans softly against you as you slowly continue to work your hips on him.

“Gosh please i-i want you so bad.” He says quietly gasping for air. Hongjoong is shuddering and he has to try hard to keep himself from busting underneath you.

You pull your sweater off yourself and hop off onto the floor. You tug on his pants and he raises his hips slightly. Managing to get both waistbands down, his cock springs free. It's warm and stiff in your grasp as you wrap your lips around the tip. Hongjoong leans his head back on the couch, eyes rolling to the back of his head as you continue to inch down the expanse of his dick. You shove him all the way down, his flushed cockhead hitting the back of your throat deliciously. You work what you can’t fit and continue to lather him in your saliva. His hands shyly come up almost as if he wants to rest them on your head. You pull away and look up at him,

“You can push me and do what you need to get there.” You reassure him, voice hoarse from the previous intrusion. He nods and watches in awe as you go back down and swallow him almost whole. Your mouth sucks so hard that he’s seeing stars. Suddenly not shy anymore his hands tangle in your hair and he pushes down, causing you to gag on him. The noise resonates loudly in the room and he groans softly. His eyes are now closed and his head is back once more, his hips slowly move up forcing more of his cock down your throat.

“I’m- i-m…cum.” He groans, his breathing is labored as he chases his high that’s right at his reach. His hips still and his hands keep your head stable in a single spot you can’t do anything besides take his load in your mouth. When you pull away he looks down at you. Hongjoong relishes in the way your eyes are teary and there's spit and cum running down your chin. He suddenly leans down and captures your lips in a final kiss, his remnants all over him now.

“Was that good?” You ask, he nods still trying to catch his breath.

You smile at him and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Feel free to stay or go, up to you.” You offered, he pondered for a moment.

“I’d stay but Yeosnag should be back already and will wonder where I am. Uh, thank you I- I guess.”

He gathers himself and his belongings and heads for the door. As he's about to exit you pull him into a quick hug.

“See you soon?” Hongjoong blinks, you wanted to see him again?

“of course yes.” He replies quietly.

“Good, don’t get caught by the RA.” You wink closing the door behind him.

***

You’d spent the following week texting Hongjoong, that is until the day before the final championship game. You’d ghosted him completely, Hongjoong had spent the entire day and night ruminating, he had gone over the texts a billion times wondering if he’d done something wrong. He so desperately wanted to tell Seonghwa or Yeosang, but no one knew about you and him and your escapade that one night. He didn’t want rumors to spread so he kept quiet. The final championship match day had arrived. Hongjoong was in his dorm squeezing into the white pants that were part of the new uniforms. He tried on the silly little hat that went with it and he didn’t completely hate it. He grabbed one of his expensive colognes that he only sprayed if the occasion called for it and tonight he’d be seeing you, at least that’s what he hoped. Ignoring how mildly silly he felt in his marching band uniform he headed out the door.

By the time he and the rest of the band members had made it to the packed arena you were already on the floor warming up. He smiled at you when you spotted him but frowned when you didn’t return the smile back. His stomach was in knots and he wasn’t sure how he’d make it through the possibly 3 hour long match when it mostly revolved around you. You on the other hand, the star libero of the university's volleyball team were shitting bricks. You’d completely stopped replying to Hongjoong and you felt bad but there was nothing else on your mind than this match right now. The nerdy boy sent you a smile when he walked into the arena in his pretty little uniform that fitted him nicely but you failed to return in. You couldn’t wait to win this thing and go after him to say how sorry you were.

“Are you okay? You’ve been looking pale since we got on the bus?” Seonghwa asked Hongjoong who kept his gaze straight ahead.

“Yeah I’m fine.” But his long haired friend wasn’t buying it.

He had never seen Hongjoong like this before, his face was stoic. Lips in a permanent frown, no emotion behind his eyes. Still, Seonghwa didn’t push him any further. The match was starting and Hongjoong stood up to play his part in the school’s fight song. The entire time his eyes remained on you. As the game proceeded he watched the way you’d dig the balls and the way you’d throw yourself aimlessly just to keep that ball in play. He was in awe, as always you never failed to impress him. But he felt slightly resentful and sentimental, was he just a game to you?

There was only a point difference between both teams and right now your team was behind. You gulped, hands sweaty as you prepared for the opposing team to serve. As the ball makes it over the net you pass it perfectly to your setter who sends it towards the outside hitter. You wait, feeling antsy hoping that the attack was enough to score a point but the opposing team keeps it in play.

It all happens so fast, the opposing team spikes the ball over the net which is received by one of your teammates except it was such a forceful hit the ball has gone haywire. You chase it down running towards the stands were Hongjoong sits, you ram into the people on the sideline chairs but successfully manage to send the ball back to your teammates. Hongjoong watches as you wince slightly and run back to the court. The point ended up being yours and now both teams were tied.

You grimace at the stinging pain on your rib, but there was no time to dwell on it. Somehow someway your school manages to stay afloat and now you’re 1 point away from calling that trophy yours. Your team's outside hitter swings hard sending the ball over and it slams on the floor, you’d done it; the championship was yours. You teammates run and pile up, tears flowing down everyone's faces. You hug kimmy and she squeezes you back,

“Top libero, thanks to you we are here.” She sobs, you squeeze her tightly and let go moving on to your other teammates.

***

The team had decided to go out right after the match to celebrate but with your bruised rib and how exhausted you were you decided to head back to your dorm instead for some rest. Walking out of the locker room with all your stuff, Hongjoong is standing right outside the entrance. You’re slightly puzzled at his presence,

“Hongjoong…hey.” You greet him sheepishly.

He sends you a tight smile,

“Hey, congrats on the win.”

You nod and smile at him. You can’t help but rake your eyes down his figure. He looked amazing in white and the gold accents of his uniform contrasted with his skin tone perfectly. His pants are slightly fitted and they accentuate the fullness of his legs just right.

“Thank you, I'm glad you were there to witness it.” Awkward silence fills the air.

It was clear he was waiting for some sort of explanation, so you swallow your pride and decide to apologize.

“Listen sorry I stopped replying so abruptly. It was nothing you did but this match was really weighing on me that I kind of tuned out everything to prepare for it.”

You gesticulate with your hands nervously hoping he wouldn’t think that you didn’t want him anymore.

“No worries, I get it.” Hongjoong says nothing more.

“W-would you wanna come back to my dorm with me? We can order food in?”

You cross your fingers behind your back hoping that he’d say yes. His face lights up slightly and he nods. You both walked side by side towards the campus housing. The cold winter night is unapologetic, the heavy wind making it hard for you to move forward from the force.

“How come you're not out celebrating with the rest of the team?” Hongjoong asks, shivering just like you.

“I’m tired and my body is beat. But maybe tomorrow, it’s only friday.”

He nods understandingly, silence falls between you two again, only the loud whipping of the cold December air being heard. You decide to jog the last bit of distance until you’re both safely inside the building.

“Wait.” he pulls you back,

“No RAs?” His eyes are wide in fear.

“No, just one but she's here only during the day. Almost everyone is gone for break.”

Hongjoong lets you pull him along up to your dorm.

“Feel free to do what you need to do to get comfy, imma order pizza!”

He drops his bag and searches for a loose fitted shirt to change into. He groans slightly as he wiggles out of the uncomfortable jacket, that weight a little too much with all the embellishments on it.

“Pizza should be here in 15. I’ll shower quickly. Please make yourself comfortable.”

***

One movie and almost an entire pizza later you were ready to lay down. You get up and hop on your twin bed. You watch as Hongjoong stays on the couch, awkwardly fiddling with his hands.

“Joongie…come here.” you whine motioning him over with your hand.

He gets up and shyly walks over to you, he gets on the bed and lays on his side next to you. Now you’re both face to face. Bringing a hand up you caress his face gently, admiring how smooth and impeccable his skin looked. Your hand moves up to pull his glasses off and when you do you press your lips against his. It escalates quickly, with his own frustrations going on and your need to blow some steam off after an intense match you both needed this. He maneuvers you on top of him, his hands cowardly resting against you.

“Touch me joong.” you murmur against him.

His hands roam more freely, you can feel him straining against his pants and when you pull away to begin unbuttoning the tight white pants off him he stops you. You pull your hands back in shock.

“I just want to try it on you.”

Just by his shy words you knew what he meant, but you wanted to hear him say it.

“What do you want, baby?” His face is red from embarrassment, and his hands shake slightly.

“I want to…” Hongjoong feels like the words have all clumped in his throat and somehow he cannot get them out.

You let out an airy laugh and lean down to give him a sloppy kiss.

So you nod smiling at him, you lay down on your back and he slots himself between your legs. His hands roam from your clothed breasts down to the hem of your sleeping shorts. Wasting no time he tugs them down, now you lay there exposed in front of him. Hongjoong leans down, his breath brushing against your heat. He suddenly leans in, taking your clit into his mouth sucking slightly, your back arches off the bed and he wraps his arms around your legs to keep you open for him. His tongue runs up and down your slit as he tests the waters, he eyes your reactions carefully taking note of what makes you writhe under him. He moves his mouth onto your clit focusing on the sensitive bud, his eyes are closed and he completely loses himself on you.

“F-fuck joongie.” You wiggle under him, head lifting to look down at him. And what a sight he is, his eyes are closed as he completely devours you open with his tongue. You were barreling towards you high at a fast speed. You clutched onto what you could and even then it didn't feel like enough. Your hips buck up and he tightens his grip to keep you glued against the mattress.

The feeling of his wet tongue, and his arms around you send you into your first orgasm. His tongue massages you helping you ride out your high, but he’s too far gone to even bother stopping. He presses his face harder into you, his nose bumping your clit occasionally. When he looks up at you his eyes are droopy and glazed. He flattens his tongue against you and lets you grind yourself into him.

“So good j-joong,” your breathing picks up, the sensitivity sending you into overdrive.

“Im-imma c-cum oh god.” your eyes roll to the back of your head as the pleasure waves roll up and down your lower half. Your legs quake in his hold and at your state he can’t help grin internally. With a finishing kiss to the inside of your thigh he pulls away. Hongjoong sits back on his legs and you stare at him still in a daze from your orgasms.

“I didn’t know you were that good.” you mutter still catching your breath.

He shrugs looking down shyly.

“Come here.” you instruct

He leans over you and you press your lips against his, this time it's his turn to lay on the bed. You pull your shirt off and he oggles your tits and the way they perfectly sit.

“Take this off please.” you whine pulling at his shirt, he sits up in the small cramped bed and pulls off his shirt exposing his torso. You next move to his pants,

“I'd blow you but I just need you now.”

He doesn’t say anything and instead helps you pull his bottoms off. You quickly straddle him and guide him in,

“Wait n-no condom?”

He stops you,

“Pull out.” you simply say and sink down on him.

Hongjoong swears he sees heaven. He gasps, his eyes closing tightly when you bottom out on him. You pick your hips up and sink back down on him creating a nice even pace.

“So good joongie.” your voice is high pitched, and he swears it almost sends him over the edge. Your hips pick up pace moving fast up and down, only pants and skin slapping fills the room. His hands are tight on your hips as he pulls you down against him wrapping his forearms around your waist. You slow down switching to grinding your hips into him instead. As you sit back up you lean your weight on one of his thighs and you continue to move up and down on him the best you can while your other hand rubs your clit fast.

“Joongie…” at his name he pulls you back down against him. His pelvis grinding perfectly into your clit and he takes a nipple into his mouth sucking gently. The pleasure propels you into your final high of the night and you stutter against him, your walls clamping down on him as he feels them pulsing around his cock. Your face is buried in the crook of his neck and you pant heavily against him. As you come down and your muscles relax your hips begin moving again.

“Make me cum p-please.” Hongjoong pleads, his face contorted in frustration from holding off from his release. Your hips move fast against him again, your ass bouncing up and down on him. You hear his moans get more persistent and high,

“Oh hmphf s-shit.” He moans his hands now clawing against your waist. Hongjoong completely loses himself, his grip tightening harder on you as he pulls you down hard against him, his tip kissing your cervix deliciously. You try to pick yourself up and off him so he can finish but when you look at him, his eyes are pressed shut and his arms are firmly locked around you.

“J-joong…” you try to warn him.

“I-imma cum oh fuck.” With a final stutter of his hips his grip tightens on you once more pulling you flush against him as heavy ropes of cum decorate your insides. You lay there against him panting in a haze. When you pull back his eyes are still closed as he tries to catch his breath.

Your movement on top of him makes him crack open an eye, you lift yourself off him and his eyes widen when he realizes.

“I -i didn’t mean to-”

You hush him “it’s ok, it's ok shhh.”

Your hands caress his panicked face gently. Your lips meet his in a kiss before you lay back down.

“Why did you do this with me?” He suddenly asks,

“Don’t ask me that right after we just did this but if I must answer, I already told you I liked you. I wasn’t lying…”

“Oh, I thought you weren’t being serious.” You giggle and lift your head to look at him again.

“Shut up please.” You lazily mumble, head resting on his chest as his fingers fiddle with your hair.

“I guess you’ll have your own personal cheerleader for the next volleyball season.”

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Merry Christmas, baby.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader Rating: just a little tiny bit of smut so still +18 but it’s mostly a huge pile of angst and fluff soooo Words Count: 10669 😵‍💫 Tags: POV second person, reader wears dresses, skirts, blouses and heels, she uses make up, she’s a journalist and a writer, no physical description of her is given besides having hair, angst, fluff, friends to lovers, slow burn, loss of a parent, infidelity, divorce, mention of food, alcohol consumption, both reader and Pike are bad at feelings, swearing, slurs, dirty talk, quarrels, reconciliations, funeral, sharing a bed, kissing, sad thoughts, casual encounters, mention of coffee, mention of spring break activities, geography probably a bit random (but I looked at the maps, don't jump down my throat, I did research and I've actually been to Boston many years ago, I tried my best lol), brief mention of Teresa. I hope I haven't forgotten anything, if so I'll add it immediately. A/N: Written for @pedrostories Secret Santa event, hello @letsgobarbs, I’m your Secret Santa! 🤶 Happy Christmas Eve, I hope you'll have a wonderful holiday season! 🎄 I hope you enjoy this story and I hope you find the angst, yearning and pining you wanted. Among the characters you had indicated as favorites there was Pike and I liked the idea of ​​trying to write him for the first time, he is so sweet and cute and he deserves to be happy, I hope I gave him an ending worthy of him 🥹 I apologize if you find any mistakes, English is not my first language and I don't have a beta so I did it all with just one pair of stupid and tired eyes 😵‍💫

A huge thanks goes to all the lovely people who supported me through the process while I was having a full crisis about everything in this fic 😂 @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @arcanefox207 @joelmillerisapunk I love you all, happy holidays 🥰

1990

“So what do you think?” 

“Um...you're good” You've just heard the ugliest Take on Me cover ever, but you can't tell the guy standing in front of you and looking at you with hopeful eyes. 

Marcus is your best friend, you've known him for a couple of years, since both of you were two dorky freshmen at your new school. You were looking for the literature room and wandering lost in the hallways when Marcus asked if you needed help. You bonded right away because you didn't know anyone else, you had just moved to Sacramento because of your father's job and he was from Texas, so it had seemed natural to lean on each other.

Over time you had become such good friends that he had met your parents, he would often stay for dinner, and your dad would let him use your garage to rehearse with his band. 

Marcus had put up flyers at school and enlisted two other boys, Timmy and Dave, who became the guitarist and keyboardist of Rocket Baby Doll. The name of the band was terrible, they were terrible, but you had never had the courage to tear them down in the face of Marcus's enthusiasm, he was sure that by continuing to rehearse they would make great progress. 

With his smooth talk, Marcus had managed to convince the committee to let them play at the freshmen's Christmas dance.

“You'll see that one day we'll be on the cover of Rolling Stone,” Marcus joked. Or at least you hoped he was joking because otherwise you wouldn't know how to talk him out of it. 

Marcus was a dreamer and he liked to do it big. He wanted to be a musician, or maybe an FBI agent, he told you. Two careers that had nothing to do with each other, but you knew that if anyone could afford to have ambitions it was him. Marcus was tenacious, persistent, dedicated, and never afraid to work hard to get what he wanted.  He certainly wasn't going to end up on the cover of Rolling Stone, but in your heart you were certain he was going to accomplish something important.

He was the kind of boy mothers liked, in fact yours loved him. When you needed math tutoring, he would come to your house totally for free and explain whatever you didn’t understand.

When Molly Preston wanted to exclude you from the winter dance because her ex-boyfriend, Ryder, had asked you out, he had been the one to give her a speech.

When you had a bad day Marcus would take you to get your favorite ice cream, you would talk for hours, and in the end he was the only one who could cheer you up.

Whatever problems you had, Marcus was there for you landing an helping hand. 

You knew your mother not too secretly hoped you would get together but it never happened, Marcus was your friend, just a great friend.

“Come on, my mom made cookies for everyone,” you told him as he continued to fantasize about what you might do. You would be their manager and you would both become rich and famous. He just couldn't keep his feet on the ground, even though he was a very good student and even had better grades than you.

You were 17 years old, your whole lives ahead of you, and you hoped that you will remain friends for many years to come.

_____________________________________________

1993

“What do you mean there is only one room available! We had booked two!” 

Marcus had yelled at the front desk of a motel where you stopped for the night. 

The owner, a rather creepy guy with a long scar on his right cheek, slumps in his shoulders, heedless “If you want number 12 is free, otherwise you can take your asses somewhere else for all I care.”

Marcus was fuming. 

It was spring break, any hotel was totally booked, and the possibilities were already significantly reduced given your pockets. 

You didn't even want to come; you had just broken up with Derek, your college boyfriend, and were back at your parents' house with the intention of spending your vacation there healing your wounds. Vegetating on the couch, reading books, watching movies, just relaxing. That was what you wanted to do. But Marcus had insisted, “Erik, Alice, Kate and Robert are in San Diego, let's join them!” 

You had shaken your head and declined “No way, I've seen enough wild college parties and besides, I'm not really in the mood.” 

“Oh come on, you don't want to spend Spring Break crying over that jerk,” he had said, shrugging and looking at you with his big brown puppy-dog eyes. 

“Marcus, I really don't feel like it.” 

“Come on, please do it for me! You'll see we'll have fun, they're nice!” Surrounding yourself with drunk and stoned 20-year-olds was the least of your desires. 

But on the other hand you felt you couldn't say no to him, it had been months since you had seen each other, your relationships had been reduced to long letters and phone calls telling each other about each other's schools.

You had chosen different colleges, Marcus had been accepted at Berkeley in California and you were at Boston University. You had changed coast, climate, everything. You were content but adjusting the first months had not been easy, you felt homesick and you missed your best friend. You were happy for him, you had known since your senior year that you were going to separate but that hadn't made it easy for you. 

You had only seen each other in person at Thanksgiving.

He had been forced to go to his relatives in Nevada for Christmas.

So you got dragged down to San Diego, because deep down Marcus was right, brooding all vacation about the relationship with Derek would not be good for you. You had had other guys before him but Derek had been special, until you found out he was cheating on you. You cried for hours on the phone with Marcus and he listened to you the whole time so maybe you owed him a little too.

After insisting on getting at least a room refund, Marcus had turned to you displeased “apparently we have no other choice.” 

“We'll adjust” you had smiled, but you couldn't deny that you were a little nervous. 

Once in the room he, too, seemed self-conscious. 

There was a double bed with a hideous floral bedspread in the middle of the room, brownish carpeting on the floor, dingy pictures hanging on the walls, and an old dresser on the opposite side of the bed with a rickety TV on it.

A smell of cheap deodorant with a musty undertone wafted around. It was the worst room I had ever set foot in, but at this point there was nothing you could do but make it okay. Sleeping in the car didn't seem so appealing.

You had set your bags down and looked at each other awkwardly “This room is awful,” Marcus had whispered, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand “I'm sorry, it didn't look that bad from the brochure.” 

“It's not your fault, I bet those pictures were taken at least 20 years ago” you had laughed ”it will do for one night” 

You had retrieved your pajamas from the suitcase and went to the bathroom. The light blue tiles made it look like a hospital, there was an old plastic curtain in the shower and the sink looked like it had been through a war but at least it looked clean. There was a strong smell of disinfectant that made you a little nauseous. You had changed quickly and returned to your room to Marcus who was sitting on the bed intent on calling his parents “Yes mom, everything is fine, we will be back tomorrow. Yes, sure, don't worry I'll definitely say hello to her, she's in her room now” You had noticed that he had not said anything about your misadventure, you had sat down smiling on the opposite side of the bed trying to be silent. 

Marcus had rolled his eyes closing the call “she is so old-fashioned.” 

You had laughed “I find her lovely” 

Marcus had chuckled “we'd better sleep, we have a lot of driving tomorrow. Are you okay with that side?”

“Yes, it’s fine” you had nodded ”however I'd rather get this bedspread out of the way, it gives me nightmares even when awake” 

Marcus had observed it agreeing that yes, it was rather eerie.

You had taken it off and laid it on the dresser before slipping under cold, scratchy and wrinkled sheets.

You looked at each other and burst out laughing, the situation was comical to say the least. “God, I think I won't forget this bed for a long time,” Marcus had said. 

“It feels like being in a burlap sack.” You had laughed.

“Could you not squirm like that?” 

“Sorry, I'm just looking for ways to be comfortable,” you had said, ”Mattress is lumpy.” 

You had laid on your side with your back to him and closed your eyes, trying to sleep. 

“So, did you have a good time?” you had heard Marcus whisper.

“Yes” you had replied “thank you” And it was true, his friends were really nice. You had bonded with the girls and exchanged addresses and phone numbers “you were right, I needed a vacation”

“I know, I'm always right” he had sentenced from the other end of the bed.  

You had turned to look at him "oh sure, like the other night when we ended up at that beach party and you said it was allowed and then we had to run away because the police were coming?”

“It was just a little misjudgment!” He retorted.

You had burst out laughing again “come on, sleep, Mr I know everything”

Marcus had turned off the lamp on the bedside table, next to the phone with which he had just called his mother “Hey...I need to tell you something” you had heard him say. 

“What?” the tone had suddenly changed and you felt confused, you looked over your shoulder at him in the dark. 

“I kissed Alice the other night” he seemed awkward in telling you and you didn't understand why.

“Oh. Well, good for you. She's a lovely girl” he was your friend, you were happy for him. 

If it weren't for the fact that you secretly hoped he would kiss you. You'd been thinking about it for a few days, ever since you'd seen him come out of the water while you were at the beach.

It had seemed to you that everything had started moving in slow motion, your eyes glued to his tanned skin, to his broad shoulders, to the way the water slid over his chest in little droplets that died on the waistband of his swimsuit. It was a feeling you had never experienced before in five years of knowing him. You had never seen Marcus as anything more than a friend, but in that moment, with his hair disheveled, his skin wet, a smile plastered on his face as he told you and the others that ocean was great, he had seemed like a vision, and you had felt your cheeks heat up. 

Where on earth that attraction came from you didn't know, but it had hit you hard and clear, like a bump on the head that had suddenly awakened you. You had convinced yourself that your brain was doing this to protect you from painful memories with Derek, lingering on your closest friend who had never let you down. Your trust in men was at its lowest, and Marcus had always reassured you, kept you out of trouble, and he was most reliable guy you had ever known.

He said he would do something and he always, unfailingly did it. You could not say the same about Derek or any other guy you had ever been with.

You had tried to chase that feeling away, burying it in the corner of your mind for all the following days; you didn't want to ruin the friendship between you, and you were pretty sure he didn't feel the same way about you.

Sure, you thought you kissed him on your 18s birthday while you were drunk, but the next morning you were so ashamed that you hadn't even told him about it, pretended you didn't remember anything and that it had never happened. Marcus had done the same, and everything had ended there. Two years had passed since that night, you had gone to college, you had both had more or less long relationships.

That one kiss was now so far away that you had listed it among “once-in-a-lifetime mistakes.”

"I wanted to tell you, that's it. Friends tell each other everything, right?"

“Yes, of course, you can tell me anything, I’m happy for you” you replied 

You had listened to Marcus talk about the girls he liked dozens of times and you had never cared, you would have certainly forgotten it, it was just a passing crush, you told yourself. That annoyance you felt, that bitter taste in your throat, would disappear after a night's sleep. Your friendship was more important, you wouldn't have ruined it just because your brain had thought it interesting to make it something more.

Yet when you had tried to sleep all you had seen was Marcus kissing Alice. You had not seen them, fortunately, but it was not a hard scene to imagine, and unfortunately it was now implanted in your brain. His strong arms holding her, his soft lips resting on hers, her surrounding his neck with her arms, her pelvis rubbing against his. Suddenly you couldn't stand it. You had narrowed your eyes, cursing your creative mind, grunting in frustration. 

“Hey, is everything okay?” had asked Marcus from the other side of the bed.

You had lied, of course, but you had kept brooding until you fell asleep exhausted by the workings of your brain.

In the morning you had woken up confused, not at all rested, and in his arms.

Your face was resting on his chest next to your hand. How had you ended up there like that? You didn't know. You felt like you didn't know anything anymore. 

He was blissfully asleep. He seemed unaware of anything as your throat was dry, your head ached, and your pussy throbbed. Yes, throbbing, desperately. The warmth of his body, the scent of his skin, that knowledge you felt inside that this was exactly what you wanted and you couldn't even quantify how long you had wanted it.

And the panic that had seized you immediately afterward. You were convinced it was a mistake, the most terrible mistake you could make. So why did it feel so right? Why did his body feel like it was made for you? Oh no, no you couldn't allow that. Certainly he had no idea whatsoever about the situation, there was no way he was aware and let you do it, it was all your fault. 

You were going to ruin everything, your friendship, your relationship with the one man who really seemed to understand and support you. And for what? To fuck him once? It wasn't going to work between you romantically. You were going to have to spend two more years away seeing each other only during the holidays to begin with, and then you were both stubborn, too proud...no, it was wrong, you didn't care what your body told you, you had to let your brain prevail.

You slowly slipped away, back to your side of the bed, practically holding your breath, cursing yourself and your heart that wouldn't stop hammering in the middle of your chest.

He had woken up shortly after, acted as usual, getting up, stretching in his T-shirt and basketball shorts, mumbled good morning to you and locked himself in the bathroom. 

Your eyes had slid lasciviously over his body, stealing glances of his exposed skin between his T-shirt and shorts, of his broad shoulders stretching the fabric, of his thighs...

All while you wanted to sink into a black hole and disappear forever. You sank your face into the pillow to keep yourself from screaming. 

And what was worse was that you had to carry the burden of what you felt alone because the person you would normally talk to about it was the one you were longing for. Wonderful, a wonderful situation. 

When he had come out of the bathroom, with his beautiful smile and that rough voice that he always had early in the morning you almost lost control. You were about to beg him to join you in bed. Ugh, your 20s, uncontrollable, stupid, senseless hormones.

“What are you waiting for? Come on, go get dressed, we have to leave,” he had told you, in the same friendly and vaguely mocking tone as always. 

“Oh. yes, thank you, I promise I will be quick.” You had stammered.

You got up, grabbed some random clothes from your suitcase, your beauty case and went to the bathroom to shower and change. He would be ready in 10 minutes at most so he would always let you go to the bathroom first, to give you time to do your makeup and fix your hair. Marcus knew that about you, too, and he was okay with that. 

You closed the door behind you, feeling the tears stinging your eyes. You had managed to hold them back until that moment, but in the shower, covered by his of the water, they had flowed copiously and salty down your cheeks. 

____________________________________________

2000

“Hey! How are you! My goodness, long time no see!” 

You had met him at the supermarket, as you were going around the shelves intent on shopping for your mother. 

You were back at your parents' house for Thanksgiving with your husband, John. 

The last person you thought you would see was him. 

“Marcus!” you had squeaked.

“I am fine! How are you? And Danielle?” 

Your mother had taken it upon herself to inform you that he had also married, had no children, and had become a detective. 

“Danielle is just fine, she is right there down the aisle picking potatoes according to my mother's exact instructions,” he had rolled his eyes, chuckling.

Damn, you had thought, he's breathtakingly handsome. 

You hoped that in all the years you had lost touch with each other he would have lost at least some of his hair like his father, but apparently he had not inherited that gene. His hair was thick and healthy as usual, he wore a gray T-shirt under a black leather jacket and a pair of dark blue jeans. You hated the way he could put on two random things and look so damn perfect while you felt like you had spent your whole life in front of your closet wondering what to wear. And even more you hated his smile, so friendly and sweet, that it hadn't changed at all. 

He seemed genuinely glad to see you. 

You had lost touch with each other after graduation, despite the advent of cell phones, computers, and email. Your friendship had survived handwritten letters, postcards, prepaid phone cards but still crumbled eventually. You were on the opposite coast, intent on your master's degree, dreaming of becoming a writer; he was hooked on a career in law enforcement. 

The letters had become fewer and fewer, as had the phone calls, and eventually what was there had simply slipped away as the months passed, the commitments increased, and each of you tried to become the adult you had dreamed of being.

You had thought it was much better this way, you had stifled your feelings for him for another four years before accepting that nothing would ever happen. You had dated other guys in the meantime, but Marcus had always remained in your mind as the perfect guy you could never have. It was only when you had met John that you had allowed yourself to think that maybe it could work with someone who was not your old friend. He was understanding, sweet, supportive, present and caring with you. John was a really good guy and so you had finally decided to marry him. He had asked you one spring day at the Public Garden, while you were eating a lobster sandwich under a tree in front of the pond, watching the swans. Your offices were close by, so you tried to spend your lunch break together as often as you could. You had gotten a job at the Boston Globe, were in charge of the wedding column, and wrote romance novels in your spare time, sending manuscripts left and right in the hope that some editor would notice them. John was a stockbroker, pragmatic, punctual and very thorough in his work as much as he was sweet and attentive with you. 

“How about we get married?” he simply had said to you, with his mouth full. You had laughed, thought he was joking, until you noticed his serious and hopeful look and exclaimed “oh my God, yes!” throwing your sandwich in the air and wrapping your arms around his neck. That was all you wished for. You had moved in together in a beautiful house downtown, not very big but lovely, you had fallen in love with it as soon as you saw it. It was bright and warm, the right place to start your life with John.

You had, of course, sent an invitation to Marcus as well, but he had declined, saying he was very busy with work. You had kind of tied it on your finger and so you had decided that he might as well get out of your life after all. Times change, people change, all I can do is move on and try to forget how I feel about him by devoting myself to my relationship with John, you thought.

Now that you had him in front of you again though, he looked the same as he always did, only grown. And your heart had skipped a beat the instant you recognized his voice greeting you.

“How long do you plan to stay?” you had asked out of pure courtesy. 

“About a week, we were able to take a few days to relax a bit. We're always working like crazy, you know, we both needed to get away for a while. How about you?” 

“Yes, us too, by the way if you remember Sunday is my father's birthday and my mother really wanted us to be there.” 

“I guess. By the way, I'm sorry. My mother told me when we arrived.” 

Your father had been ill for several months and unfortunately there was little left to do at that point. He was slowly fading away and it would probably be the last Thanksgiving you would spend together.

“I thank you. Oh here's John. John this is Marcus, an old friend of mine. Marcus, this is John, my husband.”

“Nice to meet you, Marcus,” John had said, shaking his hand. 

“Honey, I'm done, shall we go?” had chirped Danielle's voice as she approached you. 

“Yes love, but first let me introduce you to an old friend of mine and her husband” Marcus had told her softly. 

“Oh it's you! Marcus has told me several times about you! It's nice to finally meet you in person.”

Danielle was beautiful, dark hair, blue eyes and delicate features, a little nose that looked as if it had been drawn by an artist, full lips, high cheekbones and a well-proportioned chin. Her voice was melodious and sweet and she looked at you with an excited and surprised expression, " He didn't tell me you were so pretty!" 

“Oh, thank you, you are too,” you had said, slightly embarrassed by such kindness. At that point John had held you proudly, as if you were his greatest prize. His arm had wrapped around your waist, and his eyes looked at you lovingly "didn't she? I'm lucky that she married me." 

Danielle had laughed graciously and shook his hand introducing herself, while you and Marcus looked at each other almost studying each other, as if you were both trying to figure out how happy you actually were in your marriages.

That habit of worrying about each other had not gone away; after all, you had been close friends for quite a few years, and your friendship had faded not because of a quarrel, but because of distance and becoming busy adults. And because you had to get over the crush you had on him, of course, but you had never told him that. 

“Well, we have to go now, anyway come and see us if you can. My mother would love to see you again,” Marcus had said before offering to push the cart full of food that his wife had left beside you and start toward the checkouts. 

“We'll try, thank you,” you had nodded. You definitely should have helped your mother, tried to soothe her at least a little from the strain of caring for your father 24/7; you didn't know how much more time would be left for other things. 

You had watched them walk off together from behind, down the canned food aisle where you had retrieved the ready-made cranberry sauce you would never have time to prepare. 

They were a good-looking couple, really, attractive, well-dressed, Danielle looking impeccable in a pair of jeans that bandaged her while highlighting her curves, a red blouse that matched her complexion, and a pair of vertiginous heels on which you didn't even know how to walk. She seemed to do it without any problem. 

“We should go too, honey” John's voice had brought you back down to earth. 

_________________________________________

Once home John had announced to your mother that you had met your old friend at the supermarket, and of course she was thrilled, “Oh, he's such a nice guy, I saw him and his wife the other day walking downtown, they are such a nice couple, aren't they?” 

John had agreed, taking a beer from the fridge “really” 

“Well, like you, of course” your mother had added, looking at you softly. 

And it was true, you were fine with John, he was a good person, a hard worker, he treated you like a princess. What more could you want? 

Yet since you had seen him again, Marcus's face had made room in your mind. The intrigued way he had looked at you, as if trying to understand everything that had happened to you in the years you had not been in touch, the way his arms were reaching out to embrace you when John had arrived, a barely imperceptible movement that only you had noticed because you knew him better than the palm of your hand, the dimple that had popped up on his cheek as he smiled at you, the usual one you had grown to love so much.

You had pinched the bridge of your nose as you tried to drive it from your mind “Are you okay love?” had asked John immediately. 

“Yes, I just have a little headache, I'll get something later,” you had lied, hurrying to put away the rest of the groceries. 

What annoyed you the most was that it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in your twenties and you had woken up hugging him in the bed of that dingy motel. It was absurd. You had worked so hard to move on and now it felt like you were back where you started. 

You couldn't let that happen, you wouldn't let your marriage be disrupted by a casual 10-minute meeting with him. 

You would not have gone to his house, no matter how much you would have liked to see his mother who had always been so kind to you. 

You had other things to think about anyway; your father was stuck in a hospital bed that you had managed to get him to be more comfortable. He had been put in the guest room on the ground floor, next to the bathroom, he couldn't do the stairs, and it was also easier for your mother to accompany him. The strong and generous man he had been was wearing out before your eyes, and it was a terribly painful image. You knew he had little time left, and you didn't want to waste it chasing the ghosts of the past when you had a husband who was helping you and hugging you every night trying to lessen your pain. 

Your Thanksgiving dinner had been unique to say the least, each of you shuttling from the dining room to your father's to spend some time with him, making sure he had everything he needed, helping him eat and drink. You had marveled at how gentle and patient John was with your dad, the big man you had married, one with two shoulders like a football player, feeding your father fruit jelly almost more gracefully than you. 

You knew how fond he was of your dad, they had hit it off right away, but you didn't know how much he was willing to sacrifice for him. You were moved.

___________________________________________

Your father was gone four days later. You and John were supposed to leave for Boston the next morning instead you had to call in to work, cancel your flight, call your trusty neighbor Marge to ask her to look at your house, pick up your mail, and water your plants. 

You were crushed and at the same time overwhelmed with bureaucracy so you couldn't stop. You had forgotten to eat breakfast that morning, got dressed in a hurry to go to the funeral home to deliver the suit with which you had decided to bury your father, then went to do some paperwork with the insurance company and finally to the church to arrange with the pastor the time of the service and the proceedings. When you left the church you felt an emptiness in your stomach, your head was spinning, you had eaten barely a sandwich in the last two days. 

You knew you were about to collapse, saw a café across the street from the church, and went inside to get a croissant and cappuccino to go. 

When you came out you found yourself in front of Danielle. She was so sorry, of course your mother had informed Marcus's mother and they would be attending the funeral. Danielle hugged you as if you were her sister, telling you that she understood you because she too had lost her father a few years earlier and even though you didn't know each other well you could have called her if you needed anything. 

You had thanked her and headed for the car, locked yourself in and took a couple of minutes to chug your croissant and drink your cappuccino. At least partially regenerated from the late breakfast you had headed back home, where John and your mother were waiting for you.

In the car you had been thinking about how kind Danielle had been and how lucky Marcus was to be with her.

The next day you had put on a sober black suit that you used for the office and probably wouldn't be able to wear again after that day, put on just enough makeup, helped John put on his tie, and headed for church with him and your mom. 

All three of you were exhausted, grieving, trying to hold the pieces together as best you could with each other's help but your dad's absence was hard to bear. You wished you could have woken up and found it had been just a nightmare, you wished you could have hugged him and talked to him and he, as he had always done, would have found the words you needed most.

There was only one other person who could soothe your worries in the same way your dad could, and that person was Marcus. 

John had been able to be there for you anyway, with actions more than words, taking tasks to take away from you, relieving you of burdens you could not carry alone, and for that you were infinitely grateful. He was a good husband. 

After the service, under his arm, you left the church behind your mother. You had lost count of the number of people who had come to hug you, faces you had never seen, work colleagues of your father's whom you had never met, old childhood friends, the church was full of people who had come to remember him fondly. This pleased you, but it was strange to you at the same time. You wished you had some time to yourself, alone, to try to catch your breath and rationalize at least some of what had happened, that blender of emotions that had shaken and sucked you in. 

You had made your way to the cemetery, walking along the path that led to the family grave where your grandparents were buried you had felt like you were in a muffled bubble where everything moved in slow motion, barely sensing John's presence beside you. 

When you had arrived, you had looked up for only a moment and before you had seen Marcus's. You had not noticed his presence in the church, busy as you were with hugging and greeting, you had seen only his mother but he had remained in the background, respecting your grief. Just as you wished others had done. There was nothing more to be said, he always knew what you needed, no matter how many years had passed, he could still read you like an open book just like when at 18 he had realized that your highest aspiration was to become a writer without even the need to make it explicit in words. 

His eyes were swollen and reddened; it was obvious that he was moved. Beside him was Danielle with a pair of dark glasses covering her face, clutching his arm elegantly and dignifiedly. 

You had smiled weakly at him, thanking him with your eyes, and he had smiled back, looking at you with the sweetest, sorriest eyes I had seen that day. 

___________________________________________

You had stayed behind to watch the final burial operations, while John had driven your mother back to the car, who had burst into convulsive tears, crushed by the realization that she had lost forever the man she had loved most in the world. 

You had felt a hand barely graze your shoulder, you had turned around and saw Marcus standing there on the grass “hey” As soon as you had seen him the impulse to hug him had come to you spontaneously, he had welcomed you into his arms, stroking your head, wrapping you against his chest, trying to comfort you. 

Being close to him still felt like home, his warmth immediately made you feel calmer, less alone, and not that John couldn't do that but with Marcus it was different. He had always been different in a way that was impossible to explain but that you felt hammering hard in your heart.

“Thank you,” you had whispered, with the tears you had finally allowed yourself to shed wetting your cheeks and his shirt. 

“Don't mention it,” he had whispered, continuing to hold you close. 

You had lingered a little longer in his embrace before pulling away and asking where Danielle was. 

"She went home with my mom. I stayed in case you needed anything.” 

“It's okay, thank you, there was no need,” you stammered lyingly. Yes you needed him, now more than ever, and he knew it well. 

“Your mother and John?” 

“Aunt Maggie drove them home, they left my mom's car with me.”

“Do you want me to drive?” she had asked and all you could do was nod ”please. But then how are you going to get back?” 

“I'll call Danielle, don't worry” he had encircled your waist with an arm as he walked you to the car. He had opened the door and helped you get in, even buckled your seat belt no matter how hard you had tried to insist you could do it yourself. 

Marcus did not spare himself when it came to caring for others. 

He had climbed up on the driver's side and in a rush had hugged you back, there, inside the car, whispering, “You don't know how sorry I am, baby. Your father was a great man.” 

You had looked at him gratefully, amid tears that had begun to flow profusely again "thank you" 

He had kissed you, right after that. And the instant his lips had rested on yours, you had felt that you could not help yourself no matter how hard you had tried to bury your feelings all those years. There was something inexplicable that united you, a way of understanding each other that needed no words, as if you were made to recognize each other, to see inside each other's souls. You had read in his eyes that day in the supermarket how much he had missed you, and he had read the same in yours, and just before that you had felt the same need to have him near, in spite of John, Danielle, and anything else that told you it was wrong. Deep inside you had always known it was right, you had felt it from the moment you first met him. You had been crowing for years about people talking about soul mates, meetings of destiny, and things like that. But now you knew you had felt it. His soft lips on yours were like honey to your soul, you wished you could sink into that feeling, drown in that sea and never rise again.

You couldn't leave John though. Not after you had built a life together in Boston, not after he had supported and cared for you all those days. Not after all he had done for you. 

As much as it hurt to do so, you pulled away from his lips. “I’ve always thought about you, all these years,” he said. “I’m sorry, you know, I didn’t realize it before, that maybe we could be something more. I never told you, but I remembered that kiss we shared when we were 18 very well.” Marcus was a torrent of words and was saying everything you’d always wanted to hear. “And I remember the night in that motel, too, how you held me in your sleep. I…” You knew he was about to say something like “I love you” “I’ve always loved you,” and so you cut him off. “Marcus.” He paused, his mouth half open as he looked at you in shock. “It’s too late. We can’t. Maybe there was a chance a few years ago, but now? We’re both married, we have responsibilities, we have to be realistic. It’s not fair to Danielle and John. And I have a job and a life in Boston, I can’t just leave everything all of a sudden.”

“But I…” and you knew he was about to say those words again. “Please don’t say that. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

Marcus had fallen silent, looking down at his hands draped over his lap, and then said sadly, “I understand.”

You had just lost your father and now you were losing him too. It wasn’t fair, but it was the only thing to do. “Take me home, please.” He would have started the car without saying anything, driving to your house without looking at you again, perhaps afraid that he wouldn’t be able to let you go if he ever laid eyes on you again. 

You got out of the car just saying thank you, without hugging him because you knew it would have hurt even more.

____________________________________

2008

When John had told you that you should move to Washington DC, you had not taken it well. You did not want to leave Boston, the bright home where you had begun to build your new life, that city that had welcomed you. Starting all over again somewhere else, in a city you had never been to, seemed too much. 

In the end, however, you had accepted it; leaving John seemed even worse. And he had continued to be a good husband, so you saw no reason to part with him.

After all, he had received a good promotion, he had rented a house where you had found a familiar light again, it had big windows, high ceilings, big rooms. John made good money and had tried to accommodate you in everything. 

He had made it worth it all the way.

You had been struggling a bit to fit into the editorial staff of the new newspaper you had found work for. You were aiming for the Washington Post, but they had totally bounced you, which had been no small disappointment to digest. 

However, after all, your life had regained some meaning. 

It was now six months since you had moved, you hadn't heard from Marcus in eight years. And this time it was not because of distance, but because it had really hurt you to find out that he felt something too but it never seemed to be the right time for you. It would have been in 1993 perhaps, if you had had courage, if you had taken the risk of exploring your feelings together. He hadn't had the guts to tell you anything, you were too afraid, and when you had found common ground it had immediately collapsed. 

John had noticed that something was wrong, even he knew you well enough to know that it pained you not to hear from your friend again, and at times he had even urged you to call him. You had told him that he had said something unpleasant about Danielle while you were in the car and you had felt sorry for her, from there you had started to argue. It was a really boorish excuse and you were pretty sure John hadn't bought it but had played it off for the sake of quiet life. 

“Can you stop by the bank to deposit this check this morning?” he had told you that morning before leaving the house. You were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and enjoying your day off. 

“Sure,” you had answered him, ”I'll go there before I go to the laundry to pick up my dress for tonight.” 

“Mmm the burgundy dress with that dizzying neckline?” he had told you as he leaned over to give you a kiss 

“Just that one” you had smiled as you returned the kiss and caressed his cheek ”you like it huh?”

“I'm looking forward to tonight” he had chuckled before leaving the house with his briefcase ”I'll be home at 7 o'clock okay?”

“Perfect, I'll be ready” you had thrown him a kiss and then curled up in your chair, finishing your coffee and admiring the view of the waking city outside. 

It was your anniversary, and he was going to take you to dinner at a French restaurant you had heard about in enthusiastic tones from your discerning colleague who was a food and wine critic. 

You had dressed quietly, gone out to do your chores, had a manicure appointment, then gone to pick up your dress at the dry cleaners and finally to the bank. 

As soon as you had left the bank you had bumped into a guy. 

You had looked up and been stunned. 

Marcus.

How was that possible? 

“Oh shit,” he had exclaimed.

His hair was slightly longer, he had grown a mustache and a beard but it was him, there was no doubt about it, you would have recognized him in a thousand. 

"What are you doing here?" you had asked him, widening your eyes, without a hello or how are you or anything else, you were too shocked. 

He was the last person you expected to see on your anniversary. 

Marcus had brushed his hand behind his neck, the gesture he always made when he was embarrassed “I got a big promotion” in a tone as if to apologize for existing in the same state as you, in the same city as you, for coexisting in the same environment as you.

“Whatever...I have to go, anyway, have a nice life,” you had tried to say quickly, to disengage yourself from that surreal situation. 

You had already turned your back on him when you heard him say “no wait...please...would you like to have a cup of coffee?”

You had turned silently to look at him. He couldn't have been serious. Yet he was.

And looking into those big brown pleading eyes, for some reason you had not been able to say no.

“All right,” you had replied with a shrug, ”I'll give you half an hour, then I'll have to go home.”

You went to sit in a café around the corner and ordered a cappuccino.

"So how are you?" you asked absentmindedly. 

“Danielle and I broke up last spring.” 

“Oh. I'm sorry.” It was like a blade through the chest to hear his voice again, to hear him say that he was single again and that his marriage was over. Somehow it made you feel guilty even though after eight years it was unlikely that the main reason for their breakup was you. 

“Yeah...she wanted children and for a while we tried but...” 

“Marcus please, I don't care, it's your business because it's over,” you cut off. 

You didn't have to get involved again. When you had thought back to your father's death and how he had confessed right afterwards you had been angry with him. Why had he done it at that time when you were so particularly vulnerable? It wasn't fair. 

"Sorry I-" he had babbled.  

“Never mind, never mind,” you had interrupted him again with a hand gesture. “Look, let's talk straight once and for all” you didn't know where all that aggression was coming from but it was growing inside you inexorably, like an infection ”why the hell are we here?” 

He had lowered his gaze to his cappuccino, then brought it back to you and stared at you in a way that made you feel naked and helpless. He still had an effect on you, and it pissed you off. “I miss you,” he had admitted under his breath, ”I miss talking to you and I miss having you around. I miss everything about you. When I saw you I couldn't believe it. But I know I can't let you leave without clearing things up.” 

“There's nothing left to clear up. It's over Marcus, can't you see that? There was never a right time for us.” 

“That's not true, I-” 

“Stop it! Look, I'm trying to live my life, you do it too,” you had screeched

“But-” 

“No 'buts'... Marcus, I'm tired. I'm tired of this running into each other and don't tell me it's fate because it's just pure randomness. John was transferred for work, now we live here, end of story. I'm still with him, okay? And I'm happy, so please leave me alone.” 

You could see his clenched fist on the coffee table, his eyes glazed with tears, his Adam's apple jumping as you mentioned John. He looked devastated. It was no longer your business anyway, so you had gotten up and made to leave, leaving a bill on the coffee table. “Don't look for me anymore.” 

Marcus had jumped up, his chair had fallen back crashing onto the pavement, and he didn't even seem to notice as he tried to stop you.

“Please” he had grabbed you by the sleeve of his jacket ”please.” 

You had turned back to him and looking into his eyes you had seen the little boy who asked you if he would ever be famous, the one who helped you with your homework, the 20-year-old who had involved you in the craziest vacation of your life, and then the adult who had broken your heart. 

“No.” you had whispered, ”no fucking way.” 

Marcus' face was a grimace of pain, as if in physical pain from your rejection, his shoulders hunched and his hand not letting go of you. He was pathetic and sweet at the same time.

His eyes were fixed in yours as he told you loud and clear, “I love you.”

I love you. 

You had longed to hear it come from his lips for so long that now it was like a lash that burned against your skin. You had stopped feeling like you were glued to the sidewalk, unable to take a step forward “What the hell! Did you have to tell me that? Was it necessary after I told you that I am still with my husband? Fuck, your timing is the worst thing ever. Do you know what day it is today? My wedding anniversary.” you had thrown up words at him angrily, feeling a knot in your stomach that nauseated you. 

“I don't want anything from you,” he had replied, his voice trembling, ”I just wanted you to know.”

“And now that I know according to you what have we solved? What have we gained? I'll tell you, absolutely nothing Marcus.” 

You had turned around and left, yelling at him, “I'll tell you again, don't ever look for me.” 

You had come home and taken a long hot bath, cried your last tears for him, and then decided it was John you had to think about, your special day. Marcus wasn't going to ruin it for you. You had prepared yourself carefully, put on the dress he liked so much, your favorite perfume, and waited for John. When he had come home you had driven out to a restaurant, had had a delicious dinner, sex as soon as you got home, and fallen asleep in his arms feeling that it was right. 

___________________________________

2010

“Love don't wait up for me, I'll be back late. I am so sorry, I love you.” 

It was already the fourth time in a week that he sent you such a message, by now John spent more time in the office than anywhere else. He had been given another promotion and was now mainly in charge of foreign exchanges, so he went to the office at impossible hours, came back later and later, and you barely saw him in the morning getting out of bed to jump in the shower. You hadn't had sex for at least a month, in those days you had talked more often with the mailman than with your husband.

Finally a publishing house had noticed you and they had published your book, you had gotten a chance to continue working for the newspaper by writing your articles from home so you could work on your second novel. 

You had huffed, looking at the screen, by now you were going to your friends' dinners alone, in those two years you had bonded with some couples in your neighborhood, and with a colleague from the newspaper and her husband. Every time you had been invited in the last three months John had declined, saying he had to work. 

You were beginning to feel really alone in your marriage, but you knew you had to try something. You still cared about John; you didn't want everything you had built together to be ruined. Sure, since he was earning more money he was showering you with unexpected and expensive gifts that certainly didn't make up for his absence, though. You had never been a materialistic person, no matter how beautiful the diamond bracelets and pearl necklaces and expensive shoes were, you missed falling asleep cuddled with your husband, feeling his caresses, having breakfast with him in the morning, spending a weekend together on the couch watching TV cuddling, simply spending time with him. For the past few weeks you had failed to write a word, you had hastily completed articles for the newspaper just to meet deadlines but your novel had stalled. You were busy cleaning to take your mind off things, you had joined the gym to force yourself to leave the house but then you would go back and find yourself spending entire evenings lounging around, not knowing what else to do. 

You had decided that night that you had to take matters into your own hands, put on a pretty dress, fixed your hair and make-up thoroughly, and then went out with the intention of surprising him. You were going to bring him his favorite dishes from your favorite Chinese restaurant to the office. 

When you had arrived at his workplace, you had looked up from the car window and seen the light on in his office. 

You had come down loaded with Chinese noodles and dumplings, and as you walked toward the entrance you had noticed his car parked not far away. 

You had taken the elevator with your heart in your throat, looking forward to seeing his happy face as he enjoyed a hot meal. The elevator had opened on the floor and you had started down the hallway leading to his office. There was no one there, everything was quiet and still, but the closer you got to his office the more you heard strange noises. Bellowing, hushed voices. 

The door was pulled over, you had pushed it slightly, and the scene that unfolded before your eyes was unsettling. 

Veronica, a married colleague of him whom you had met at the firm's Christmas party a few months earlier, was bent over John's desk, her skirt up, her panties down, her long legs covered by black hold-ups, her stilettos sinking into the Persian carpet under John's desk. And your husband holding her hips and sinking into her from behind. 

His shirt was hanging off his shoulders, his hair was disheveled, his neck tense and sweaty, as he stood there with his cool wool pants down, fucking his colleague. 

He grunted some words that you had never heard him say when you were having sex “Yeah, bitch, you like that huh? You like getting pounded by my cock huh? You're such a dirty slut, do you feel how wet you are for me?" 

You couldn't believe your eyes. Your sweet husband, the one who had stood by you so devotedly…where had that man gone? 

You dropped the bag with the Chinese dinner on the floor, the boxes had opened, and the noodles had spread all over the hardwood floor. “What the fuck?!”

John had turned around shocked, still with his cock inside his coworker “Oh shit. No, wait, honey I-” he had stepped out of her and tried to pull up his pants awkwardly ”please-fuck-I can explain.” 

“There's nothing to explain, you piece of shit!” you had yelled at him as he approached trying to stammer out some stupid excuse and had slapped him open-handed across the face as soon as he got in front of you ‘don't bother coming home’ you had added contemptuously.

“But love I-” he had pranced rubbing his cheek ”please-” 

“NO!” You had yelled “No, I don't want to hear your bullshit excuses, I don't want anything more to do with you, you disgust me!”

Veronica was standing in the corner buttoning her blouse and pulling down her skirt without meeting your gaze, her face hot and guilty.

Everything that you had sacrificed for that relationship, how you had followed him and reinvented your life for him, adapting to his needs, trying to build a happy nest for the two of you in Washington, all had been swept away. He had stomped on your marriage, your trust, your heart. 

You had driven home crying, risking missing a red light, had nailed down at the last moment with your heart bouncing inside your chest like a jackhammer. You had walked into the house throwing your purse and coat on the floor, throwing your shoes in the middle of the hallway and throwing yourself on the bed, hiding your face in the pillow with your head bursting, a sense of helplessness and defeat enveloping your temples, your chest, your stomach. 

It was over.

John had never come home, you had learned through his lawyer that he had rented an apartment near his office, and a week later he sent three big guys from a moving company to pick up his things.

You couldn't stay in that house anymore. Everything reminded you of him, the lies he had been telling you for months and what was even worse, all the happy moments you had lived in there in spite of yourself. 

You were dragging yourself from room to room without strength, you hadn't written anything anymore, you had told the editor of the newspaper that you were sick to have an excuse to delay the deadlines for your articles. 

You were tired, you were angry, you lacked the will to do anything, after three days without seeing you leave the house your friend Denise, who lived across the street had called you alarmed to see if you were all right, and hearing your dejected, fading voice had decided to use the keys you had given her in case of an emergency to come and check on you in person. 

You had not been able to lie to her; you had burst into tears and told her everything as soon as she asked you where John was. 

From that day she had been by every day bringing you dinner, making sure you ate, forcing you to shower, tidying up. You didn't know what you had done to deserve Denise in your life but you were incredibly grateful that she was there. 

Gradually you had forced yourself to take charge of your life again, started going out again pushed by your friends and even moved house, encouraged by them. You couldn't turn over a new leaf without getting out of there. 

And you had especially realized that you could walk with your head held high; you were not the one who had to be ashamed. 

And looking back on it, you had really overcome a lot in the last few years. The loss of your father, Marcus, your husband. All the men who had meant something to you in your life. 

You could have been proud that you did your best to stay on your feet. 

________________________________________________________

2011 

It had been a year since you had discovered John screwing his colleague.

You had tried dating men, without success, but things were going very well professionally. You had finally managed to finish your second book, and the publisher had been extremely pleased, so much so that he had arranged a series of meetings for you at bookstores around the country.  You had just returned from Ohio when you got a call from your mother inviting you for Christmas.

You had no desire to return to Sacramento, but how could you say no to your mom? She was left alone and it had not been easy for her. Your aunt and uncle lived nearby and took care of her but she had said she missed you a lot.

And she was so proud of you, she had asked you for copies of your books to give to all her friends, she was your biggest fan. You were happy to see her and spend time with her. 

And so, there you were at the airport, with a big suitcase, ready to get on yet another plane and fly across the country. 

You had just gotten an upgrade to business class and were in the private lounge of the area airline ordering yourself a martini when you heard a familiar voice behind you calling your name. 

Marcus. Again. 

“I swear I'm not following you,” he had raised his hands in surrender. 

“I know. I haven't seen you in three years, and we live in the same town.”

You had smiled; it wasn't bad to see his face again after all. 

“Martini?” He had asked pointing to your glass 

“Yeah. Can you please make another one?” You had said turning toward the bartender. 

You had sat at a small table with your cocktails “Are you going to see your mother?”

You had nodded, “You too?” 

“Yes, my parents were very insistent. Where is John?” 

“I have no idea,” you had squeezed into your shoulders taking a sip of your martini. 

“Oh, did you break up? I'm sorry, he seemed like a good man,” he had said.

“Apparently he wasn't since he was cheating on me with one of his colleagues.” 

“You should have better judgment anyway, aren't you a detective?” you had asked, raising an eyebrow and looking at him wryly 

Marcus had burst out laughing, “You're right, I should.”

And he had told you about the time he had fallen in love with someone named Teresa, a colleague of his, and had been left like a poor idiot the previous year, without realizing that she was in love with someone else. 

“It wasn't your fault, you know,” you told him sweetly, ”I know how you get when you have a crush.” 

“How do I become?” he had asked you with a sigh.

And you had replied with a smirk “Well, if you must know...naive, head in the clouds, like you live in a world of unicorns and fairies” 

“Really? A ridiculous clown? Is that what I become?” he had chuckled and then turned serious again ”Not with you, I hope”

You had laughed, you could have laughed at that point. Or maybe it was just the martini clouding your mind. 

“Whatever,” you had rolled your eyes. 

“Well, I'm sorry,” he had muttered.

“It's okay” you had smiled ”Really.”

At that moment they had announced boarding for your flight, so you had hurried to the gate together. 

You were both in business, so eventually you had sat next to each other and continued chatting. 

And it was nice, really nice. You were both single, more aware, you had reached an age where you could be honest with yourselves and you could joke about your dramas. 

“So you had noticed that I had hugged you that night huh?” 

“Sure. You pounced on me in my sleep and woke me up. I didn't want to embarrass you so I played it cool” she had smiled ”I thought you were sleepwalking and dreaming of hugging Keanu Reeves or whatever.” 

You had burst out in the loudest laugh you had had in years and then covered your mouth embarrassed that you had disturbed the other passengers. Fortunately those in your vicinity all had headphones on and were watching a movie. 

“Oh, come on” you had tapped his shoulder and then taken by you don't know what courage-probably the second martini you were downing-you had said ”the only one I dreamed of hugging was you.” 

“I didn't realize this until later...Now is there anyone you would like to hug by any chance?” he had whispered in your ear.

“Actually...yes” 

And there, in that plane, you kissed. For the first time without hindrance, without remorse, without drama, without fear. “I love you” he had whispered on your lips, and you had responded, finally free to say it ”I love you too.”

“So we'll try this time?” he had caressed your cheek, sliding his hand down your neck. 

“Yes” You had said ”definitely yes.”

“Your mother will be delighted” he had smiled, kissing you again “it's going to be a great Christmas.”

“Well, Merry Christman then” you whispered as your mouth moved down his neck.

“Merry Christmas, baby”

[meelusinee]

SANTA’S LETTERS | R.B X READER

in which you convince regulus to make letters to santa

FICMAS MASTERLIST

pairing: regulus black x reader tags: fluff!!! word count: 2.8k

author's note: merry christmas everyone!!!! i haven't written in a really really long time, though i think i'll be taking a writing break up til new years!! i wanted to give u all a christmas special thoughhh, albeit a little late in the day <3 ONE MORE THING TO NOTE when i come back i plan on a one to two week schedule rather than an every day schedule, though no promises <3

PRESENTS

“My love,” you heard Regulus’ voice calling out to you, a curious expression on his face. 

“What is it, love?” you asked, turning to face him.

He cleared his throat before holding up a photo. “Who is this?”

It was a small photo, one from the picture book your mother had gifted you before she died. That photo was a memory you held rather dearly to you. A younger you, maybe from your Fourth or Fifth Year, sitting with the mall Santa. 

“That man?” you asked, a small smirk growing on your face.

He nodded, pointing at the mall Santa. “Yes, the guy. Is that a grandpa or someone?”

“That’s Santa.” you smiled softly, leaning forward over the back of the couch.

“What is Santa?” he asked you.

You weren’t sure how to explain it to him, shrugging simply. “Well, he’s a myth for children. Kind of. Sometimes people dress up as him for children.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Christmas.” you smiled softly. “He’s meant to give out presents and stuff.”

Regulus looked down at the photo before nodding. “Oh.”

You smiled softly. “You haven’t had a Christmas gift before, have you?” 

“No, I haven’t.” he said. “Sirius might’ve when he ran away.”

You shook your head, knowing that he probably didn’t get any presents from his friends either. As much as they cared for each other, they didn’t always show it in a generous manner. Usually, it was through threats of murdering others for each other.

“How about you write a letter for Santa, we’ll mail it out to him.” you smiled.

He raised his eyebrows incredulously, not sure why that would work. “You said he was a myth.”

“Well, maybe he is.” you said with a smirk. “Maybe he isn’t. If you write a letter, you’ll see.”

Regulus rolled his eyes, kissing your forehead. “Fine.”

“How would you open a letter without the other person knowing you’re opening it?” 

Remus looked up from his book and towards you as you asked the question, raising an eyebrow curiously. “From Regulus?”

“For Santa.” you said. “He didn’t know what Santa was, which I think is a crime.”

“So you’re going to open it and pretend you didn’t so he can experience it.” Remus finished your thought, grabbing the letter from your hands and casting a small charm on it.

“He might’ve put a charm to detect things!” you winced, watching him open the letter.

“Please,” he chuckled. “I did the same thing with Sirius, tested 20 different charms to see what would work. I know that he won’t.”

“You’re crazy.” you chuckled softly.

“So are you, apparently.” he smirked.

“Alright, how did you do it?” Regulus asked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” you repeated nonchalantly, smiling softly at the small gift he had in his hand.

It was a notebook that he had been wanting for a while, though you weren’t exactly sure why. He seemed to have an obsession with that brand, as he already had one he’d been filling these past few months.

“The present.” he deadpanned. “How did you know that I wanted one?” 

“I didn’t know, Santa did!” you smiled brightly, clapping your hands.

Regulus looked at you with an expression that said ‘really’, though he knew that you probably wouldn’t tell him. “Thank you.” he whispered.

“I’m not the one to thank, thank Santa.” you said casually, sitting down beside him as he handed you your present. “What is it?”

“Open it.” he smiled.

You opened it with a small smile, ripping the paper to see a journal. It was a journal like the one you got him, except it was full of things. A unique amount of things. Love letters, small photos, poems, and other trinkets.

“What is this?” you asked gently, voice wet as you spoke.

“A journal,” he whispered gently. “For you. I’ve found that you’re the only way I can truly make art that I’m proud of.”

“You,” you muttered, sniffling softly as you flipped through and read some of the pages. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” he whispered.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thank u all so much for readingg!!! im sorry i havent been posting as much, christmas time is extremely busy (especially since my one year anniversary is like two days before too sob sob sob) I DONT REGRET A THING THOOOO

THANK U ALL FOR SUPPORTING!!! AS ALWAYS, please like comment and reblog, and have a lovelyyyy break <3

[mattscoquette]

rylees christmas ౨ৎ ࣪ ˖

stole this idea from @chrisweetheart bc it was just so sweet :(

@55sturn MY STAR GIRL !!!!! my first tumblr friend <33 i am so so grateful for you, i am so thankful every time you’ve ever helped me with something i was writing, or even giving an opinion on something so small 😭 u are so kind and so talented and i am so so so happy we are friends !!!

@mattybsgroupie my gf. i love you so so so so much you are so sweet and funny and i’m so happy to be your friend:)) you’re truly such a talented writer and i love talking to you everydayyy

@sirenedeslily my minnie girly <33 u are the sweetest girl EVER. i love talking with u abt literally anything, i literally love ur blog sm and i giggle and kick my feet every time i remember we’re friends 🤭

@mattsdolll EMMA !!!! u are the cutest thing everrrr i love u so so much <333 srsly i will talk to you about anything and everything and i will love it, i love when u text ab stuff going on in ur life bc it’s just so fun to talk with u ab 😭😭😭 ur blog is so cute ur srsly like my coquette matt twin

@sweetangelgirl7 my queeeennn ilysm 🤭🤭 you are by far one of my best friends on this app i love uuu !!! i know i can srsly text u ab literally anything and you will always respond. i’m so happy we’re friends bc i literally love ur blog sm

@sturnioz cas !!! when i think of people who need to literally take up writing as a profession you are the first one in my head. you are so talented and so kind and i just love your blog. i know we don’t talk super often but ur genuinely one of my favorite mutuals

@chrisweetheart liaaaaa my sweet girl !!! u are so cute ur srsly like my little sister i love uuuu🤍🤍🤍 i love ur blog so much it is seriously so cute like i just love it. you’re rlly one of the sweetest people i know on here and i appreciate u sm !!

@bernardsbendystraws rosieee !! we just started talking again but i’m so glad, you’re so funny and i love how you always keep it real LOL. ur writing is srsly so talented and im obsessed w ur doll!reader au 🤭🤭

& literally all of my other friends and mutuals !! even if i don’t tag u just know i am SO appreciative and grateful :) i cannot tell u how many times ive thought ab leaving this app but decided to stay because of my friends 🤍🤍 and when i say friends i mean mutuals, people i interact with, anons, literally everyone !! i love u guys all so so much thank u for making tumblr so fun im so excited to see what 2025 brings me <3

[numberonetacostan]

I had a silly and slightly sweet idea….

Taco’s S1 “persona” was, at first, a facade, but she soon got used to it and liked it a lot. Not having to worry about things, relying on people, being liked for being silly rather than being smart…it was a relaxing time for her. That and she didn’t have to use as much brain power to get through the day.

So sometimes when she’s having a hard time, she’ll regress in a way. Similar to age-regression; a coping mechanism that is semi-controllable. Most of the time she doesn’t slip into that headspace simply because she can’t afford to. When she’s alone and “silly” it’s annoying and a bit scary.

But when she finally finds a place with everyone again, with a few people who support her, she’ll do it secretly. Just stop talking and thinking, retracting her arms, and just be a little floaty. Maybe if she makes amends with Pickle, he allows her to be silly around him just like old times.

He’d probably be the only one to truly understand.

Hello there!!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in your ask!! :]

I'd like to preface this with clarifying that my only knowledge of age-regression is from fanfictions that I did not read the tags on properly before reading. I know that those are the people being weird about it, rather than what it actually is, but I'm going to focus more on the other aspects of the ask rather than that element. I hope that's alright with you!^^

Her season 1 persona was a facade, but it was based on an actual part of her personality!!! A part that I can see her heavily suppressing otherwise, especially after season 1!!!! We even see her using humor to cope in season 2!!! It is a thing she falls back on when she's nervous, yeah? Upon rejoining the group post-canon, though, I can see her shoving an even heavier lid onto it, with being around the people who had met her while she was playing up her season 1 facade.

I like to think that her retracting her arms is a sign that she's comfortable and feels safe, and that would definitely be the time where she tests the waters on being a little silly again!!! Probably mostly with Mic or Mepad (if he was still alive. rip king i miss u), but I can see her enjoying doing semi-random things that confuse the people around her a lot!!! Secretly restocking her lemons so she can pull them out of nowhere and such!!

I can see her accidentally pulling out a lemon in front of Pickle, not having realized he was there, and apologizing profusely. Pickle might be a bit melancholy, yeah, but she doesn't have to push a part of herself down just for him!!! Pickle is a good guy, do not slander him near me ever. And I think this would lead to her opening up and being a bit more silly. Again, more around people she's comfortable with, but she'd love to see Mic smiling at something she said, yeah?

[untoldsoup]

I ONLY HAVE TEN PAGES LEFT TO DRAW.

bruh ive been so productive this vacation. Literally finishing like a page a day (8 hour drawing session days lol).

I know i know I should relax But I'm alone for the holidays rn and I can do whatever I want and that means sitting in my underwear drawing while watching yt videos on the worst xmas movies of all time lol. This is enrichment to me lol. I have issues sitting still i need to focus and do something or i will explode and rn drawing this comic has been a huge outlet for that.

I'm heading to Canada tomorrow though and I'm super excited so today is my last drawing day for the year. I'm honestly super confident now I'll have this comic update out end of January.

I cannot believe I've been able to go from so far behind to caught up. But I have just been having plenty of art time after work so I've been able to speed though things.

I am HYPED to get this update out. It's going to be INSANE. like u guys have no idea. So much going on in this chapter. Lots of crazy stuff.

So yeah Canada trip tomorrow, and then update for comic hopefully end of January.

Also, I've started to see a therapist to help with my severe anxiety over the election. I'm hoping this will help to ease my mind. I've been needing a therapist anyway. I have so many unresolved things I need to get off my chest.

I hope everyones holidays are going well, and again thanks for the support on my work! You all have no idea how much it means to me. Whenever I'm feeling down about my art, I read all the comments and tags you all have left on my story and it motivates me so much. ❤️

[onthewaytosomewhere]

thanks for the tags @cha-melodius @eusuntgratie, @kiwiana-writes, @firenati0n, @run-for-chamo-miles

(snatching the open tags from @caterpills, & @alasse9 while i'm at it)

your girl wrote so much this year ... 349 K words in 58 fics and 14 collections of ficlet friday ficlets (some of which have or are in the process of becoming actual full fics lolz) and a bunch more words in WIPs (40 or so in the folder) that are still waiting for me to just finish them (or come back to them) already! lolz - I wrote in 3 fandoms and 15 different pairings that have been posted this year and a couple others that didn't get there quite yet) - i've officially posted the last of my fics for the year so here we go

so this is a lot of fic listed here so we're gonna so put it behind a cut

JANUARY

Ring on His Finger, Putty in His Hands (RWRB, firstprince, 2.9k, E) - engaged boys that i had so planned to make a series and the rest of the ideas are still sitting in my WIP folder lolz

FEBRUARY

the second hand unwinds (RWRB, firstprince, 3.6k, G) - girldads fic for Hey Sweetheart challenge

i've got you acting like you want more (RWRB, firstprince, 3.3k, E) - brownstone era pre-engagement - the boys re-uniting after a week apart fic also for the Hey Sweetheart challenge

- like the way you work it - (RWRB, firstprince, 3.4k, E) - smut where Henry takes care of Alex

Setting The Bar High (RWRB, firstprince, 2.3k, E) - the boys celebrate their first birthdays in Texas (Becz bday fic)

MARCH

gotta sign 'em all (RWRB, firstprince, 6k, T) - fic inspired by TZP and his fascination with a lil pink book and the way he's so damn ACD-coded

APRIL

Something in your mouth (RWRB, fristprince, 3.7k, E) - fic inspired by the Nickelback song - Alex sees Henry at a party with a sucker in his mouth and needs to experience that mouth

baby just say yes (RWRB, fristprince, 20.6k, E) TSwift fairytale done for the brownstone's eras tour challenge (this was my first firstprince fairytale but i have plans for different one lolz - have a desire to do it better lolz)

MAY

Makin' memories I might remember (RWRB, firstprince, 7k, E) - the first of my not-so-much one night stands fics - this one has alive arthur and has the boys falling in luv with their one night stands

just a bit of fun (RWRB, firstprince, 2.7k, fic for Adina's bday - this all started from a silly convo and then became fic lolz

JUNE

and fight the break of dawn (RWRB, liam/pez, 6.6K, E) a southern philanthropy not-so-much one night stand fic (2nd in series)

JULY

2 is better than 1 - 3 is better than 2 (when we’re back at 2 wanna stay there with u) (RWRB, alex/henry/pip & firstprince, 19.5K, E) this is that alex/henry/pip (fristprinceS) incest-y fic i wrote for Tiff

my slutty royal (RWRB, firstprince, 1.1K, E) this was an inspired by art fic - strawberry helados by papiercranes

nights at the moonlight coffee shop (RWRB, firstprince, 15.1k, E) my werepire all-night coffee shop au for ficwip dark & cozy challenge

AUGUST

in the kitchen, at kensington, with those threadbare pajama pants (RWRB, alex/shaan, 1.2K, E) first in the shaan srivastava is too hot for his own good series - alex "beats it" to thoughts of shaan and his sexy pajama pants

bringing home silver (RWRB, fristprince, 7.7K, E) alex/henry olympics engagement fic (w/a side of southern philanthropy)

I'm gonna be a mighty king … (RWRB, firstprince, 878 words, T) just a silly fic inspired by a QOTD from a discord group

seeking the (sex) services of a witch (RWRB, firstprince, 4.5K, M) fic for ficwip 5K challenge - witch Henry helps out an Alex that may have been cursed

SEPTEMBER

a hug in clothing form (RWRB, firstprince, 3.2K, E) Oodie fic inspired by art - this lovely piece by Ash

in my dreams, at oxford, still with those damn pajama pants (RWRB, firstprince & henry/shaan, 3.6K, E) fic for the shaan srivastava is too hot for his own good series - henry tells alex about some dreams he had and that time he drunkenly hit on shaan - alex seduces it out of him

it's times like these you learn to live again (9-1-1, buddie (at the end), 4.4K, M) streetfigher!Buck buddie fic - came from combining 2 ficlet friday prompts

What if I say I love you (RWRB & 9-1-1, alex/buck, 2.8K, T) firstfire fic - meet the 'rents and "launching their relationship publicly"

on the kiss cam with you (RWRB, firstprince, 1.6k, T) another fic inspired by art - this comic piece by firstprnnce

thoroughly appreciated (RWRB, firstptince, 1K, M) a fic for the brownstone's firstprince week prompt “Did you get my note?” & secrets

help me forget for just a bit... (RWRB, firstprince, 1.2K, E) fic for the brownstone's firstprince week prompt silver & hurt/comfort - alex comforts henry with his mouth after he's had a rough day

you're still written in the scars on my heart (RWRB, firstprince, 2K, T) fic for the brownstone's firstprince week prompt “I can’t do this again” & hot or cold

OCTOBER

soulmates, star wars, and insufferable aresholes (RWRB, firstprince, 1.8k, M) soulmates fic where alex spoiled the death of han solo in his first words to henry - firstprince week fic

love & family is all we need ... (RWRB, firstprince, 953 words, G) Alex helps Henry through a memorial service for Arthur Fox - fox family feels abound - firstprince week fic

Schlorp of True Love, a Fairytale (RWRB, firstprince, 6.3K, E) a crackfic co-write with Mags and Tiff - this is what comes from when we put late night rambles into a doc lolz (soulmates but make it enormous dicks and stretchy holes)

But the words that he was whispering I couldn't stop from listening (RWRB, liam/pez, 4.7K, E) oh what is that i wrote another southern philanthropy - yes, of course! - another installment of my not-so-much one night stands series

these go in the keep pile (911, bucktommy, 1.8k, E) buck finds his old cowboy hat and puts it to good use OR my save horse ride a cowboy bucktommy fic

just a bit of full moon fun (RWRB, firstprince, 9.2K, E) werepire full moon sexin' - sequel to nights at the moonlight coffee shop fic

it takes everything i have not to melt (RWRB, firstprince, 1.4K, T) a first date college au firstprince fic for all-ships ship week

not because of some grand romantic declaration but because it feels right (RWRB, liam/pez, 1.2K, T) a southern philanthropy fic about a quiet night in and liam's feels

how meaningful the silences (RWRB, liam/pez, 1.2K, T) pez's pov of that domestic southern philanthropy

is this décor or a sex toy? (RWRB, firstprince, 2.8K, E) a silly lil fic that starts with pez sending the boys things for their new house and ends with them in bed (of course)

she has feelings about this, complicated ones (RWRB, junora, 1.8K, T) ooops! there's just one bed for all-ships ship week

not just a possibility, not just a dream (RWRB, firstprince, 5.1K, M) part 3 of werepire firstprince - this one with an adorable shifter kit that they adopt

NOVEMBER

I hope that someone gets my… (RWRB, firstprince, 12.9K, M) my AWY submission - message in a bottle fic

leaving no doubt that he owns this moment (RWRB, firstprince, 2.9K, M) alex lures henry to a victoria secret show and surprises him (inspired by a tumblr post that i rambled in tags on)

"Wanna get out of here?” (RWRB, alex/pez, 7.5K. E) a pez/alex college au bar hookup

Say that again (RWRB RPF, TZP/Clifton, 1.3K, E) so ... i ventured back into RPF as happens sometimes lolz - just pure smut

souls are not bound by simple explanations (RWRB, fristprince, 8.8K, T) A platonic soulmate fic where Philip is a good brother and Alex and Henry slow burn their way to a relationship. Told from Philip's POV

let me take care of you (RWRB, alex/pez, 6.6K, E) Pez being the great friend he is takes the very best care of an in heat Alex when Henry's out of town

gonna need you to tell me what you want to happen here (RWRB, firstprince & alex/pip, 7.8K, E) Pip reminisces, and Alex reveals something he'd neglected to tell Henry - pip had alex first

DECEMBER

born to ride (RWRB, firstprince, 3.6K, E)  trampstamp cowboy ACD (as this was called on my doc) meets and rides Henry fic that was of course inspired by a tumblr post and rambling in tags (also Leeks bday fic)

made for moments like this (RWRB, firstprince, 931 words, G) this is just Henry being sappy about his little family around the holidays

decorations and family lore (RWRB, firstprince, 905 words, G) Alex and the Fox siblings decorating a tree while they reminisce for rwrb festive fan fest

this year feels different (RWRB, firstprince, 1.3K, E) southern philanthropy soft holiday fic for the rwrb festive fan fest

Punch him with your mouth? (RWRB & 9111, firstprince, buddie, 1K, G) alex and buck are stranded at a hotel due to inclement weather and bond over missed food and feels for the boys in their lives (rwrb fff)

a lifeline through the holiday chaos (RWRB, junora, 1K,M) junora cuddling while watching a holiday movie for the rwrb fff (and Morgan's bday)

underneath the christmas tree (RWRB, firstprince & alex/pip, 7K, E) sequel to 3some fic where martha arranges a gift for pip under the xmas tree for rwrb fff (& tiff - cuz well she get all the sequels lolz)

bonding with his 'sisters'  (RWRB, firstprince, gen, 5.5K, T) Bea recruits Alex to help her and Martha find a gift for Henry and they enjoy a little bit of pampering. Alex bonds with his "fox sisters"

definitely taking a turn for the better (RWRB, alex/liam/pez with some fristprince and southern philanthropy at the end, 2.1K, E) pez brings the boys home from a party and when alex is on his way out he meets henry and well numbers might be exchanged my last fic for rwrbfff

everything he'll ever want (RWRB, liam/pez/spencer, 1.9k, M) a lil bit of holiday tranquility, softness and luv written for The Curio Cabinet rare pair exchange

Lights, Camera, Holliday Luv (RWRB, firstprince, 52K, E) pornstar alex and former boybander henry make a holiday movie and probably fall in luv (my big dec fic - my first multichapter posted chapter by chapter)

as near to peace as he ever gets (RWRB, henry/shaan, 804 words, M) in what has become a tradition when he's sloshed henry rubs off one shaan's thigh, oxford slut phase henry, written from a prompt for the Curio Cabinet that didn't make the cut for the exchange

a moment to savor (RWRB, oscar/raf, 845 words M) bb's first oscar/raf - some kissing on the couch that raf has some thoughts and feels about, also wriitten from a Curio Cabinet prompt

okay no pressure tag ur it to @adreamareads @basil-bird @bitbybitwrites @blueeyedgrlwrites @cactusdragon517

@stnichols @cricketnationrise @dragonflylady77 @dreamtigress @emmalostinwonderland

@england-would-fall @everwitch-magiks @firstprincehornyramblings @firstsprinces @forever-fixating

@hgejfmw-hgejhsf @iboatedhere @inexplicablymine @jmagnabo92 @judasofsuburbia

@mikibwrites @myheartalivewrites @ninzied @nocoastposts

@orchidscript @piratefalls @porcelainmortal @priincebutt

@seths-rogens @softboynick @sophie1973 @sparklepocalypse @stellarmeadow

@stratocumulusperlucidus @suseagull5914 @tailsbeth-writes @taste-thewaste @thedramasummer

@thinkof-england @typicalopposite @thesleepyskipper @thighzp

@tinyarmedtrex @zwiazdziarka

[gyubakeries]

hi there!! since 2024’s gonna be over soooonn, i see almost everybody asking abt their wrapped for their posts and all but what abt moots?

like new moots, old moots, moots u love the most, ppl u would wanna be moots with… or do i sound crazy hahaa…?

hi anon!! u totally dont sound crazy dw <3 thanks for asking!

(sorry for the tag guys please feel free to ignore! also if i did miss out on anyone ITS BECAUSE OF MY TRASH MEMORY. I LOVE U ALL)

since i only started writing here this september, i can only talk about my lovely moots from over these last 3 months!

kie ( @k1eev ) [thank u for spamming me with reaction pics i loved them! hope to talk to u more next year <3]

skye ( @etherealyoungk ) [we literally started talking only bcs of the halloween boop thing BUT IM SO GLAD WE DID!! love u <3]

renee ( @min-imum ) [i love talking to you about mingyu sm. love your writing too and i cant wait to read more!]

elle ( @hearts4hee ) [WE CLICKED RIGHT AWAYYYY so glad to have met you here. spam me with haechan pics whenever ur online again!!!!]

sousy ( @sousydive ) [love brainstorming with you on discord. i'd love to get closer to u in 2025!]

kyii ( @yiichan ) [that one day we were chatting on discord about that one bot.... its one of my fav memories. you're really funny and im so glad to be ur moot!]

juliana ( @horangieszhosh ) [we only spoke for the first time a few weeks ago but you're so sweet! can't wait to read more of your writing and get closer next year <3]

kae ( @ylangelegy ) [your writing will never fail to absolutely blow my mind 😵‍💫 you're amazing and i hope we get closer next year too!]

@seungkwansflower [we havent interacted a lot, but you've always supported my writing and im really thankful for it! thank you for reading <333]

maple ( @maplegyu ) [i WILL write that mingyu fic for u!! thanks for reading my writing! you're really sweet <333]

no favoritism bcs i love all my moots equally 🥰🥰. and im hoping to interact with more writers/blogs in the coming year!

also all anons who have requested, big hugs for you guys too. (ESPECIALLY the first anon who requested for scoups fluff, which led me to write opposites. ill always remember you)

thank you to ALLLL the lovely people i've interacted with! even if i havent mentioned you here im still grateful to all of you <3

[peanutbutterandbananasandwichs]

There's a certain kind of fan (u know which) that really can't admit that Jared's acting was good in any scene without first reminding you that they hate him . . .

[prime-illust]

i got more ill about him since you last saw me

[kagoutiss]

pelican town, ‘72

[fumifooms]

That. That screentone on Chilchuck’s chest in the low open collar. Is Chilchuck having chest hair canon Kui. Kui? Gripping my knee

[astrobei]

he’s very tired after his surprise party btw