#December fluff | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zarameraki · 4 months

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♡₊˚🔪・₊✧ 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗶𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝘁. 𝟭₊˚🔪・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 obsessed at the first glance 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 masturbation (toji time) 𖥔 "she's mine even if she doesn't know it yet" 𖥔 age gap 𖥔 he's downright depraved for you

: ̗̀➛ word count: 3.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: happy new year, mamas! and happy belated birthday to my baby daddy. y'all have no idea how fun it is to write toji fics. i've got a hundred already lined up. i'm going to make this a full series but for now here is part one of what's about to come (haha get it? oh god. i need help)

The first time Toji laid his eyes on you was the morning after he’d finished yet another one of his assassination cases.

There you were, seated on a picnic mat, a serene oasis in the bustling sea of activity. The wind danced through your hair, and you were engrossed in a book, your legs tucked comfortably beneath you. The music in your headphones created a private sanctuary, shielding you from the cacophony of playful children, picnicking families, and the vibrant hum of the city's summer.

Toji found himself rooted to the spot.

Oblivious to the annoyed cyclists and the world rushing past him, he stood there, captivated. It was as though he had stumbled upon a deity crafted solely for him.

You briefly raised your gaze, taking a momentary break from the confines of the small text.

Toji couldn't believe his luck as he found himself mesmerized by the tantalizing sight before him. Despite his best efforts to maintain composure, a telltale bulge in his sweatpants betrayed the mark you had on him. There you were, blissfully unaware, sipping from a water bottle that seemed almost rehearsed.

His fixation deepened as he observed every nuance of your movements—the curve of your mouth, the delicate way your throat accommodated the liquid, and the small hands that gripped the oversized bottle. He imagined his cock instead and flinched from the way his dick twitched. The simple act of you licking your lower lip and unbuttoning the top buttons of your dress shirt to fan yourself from the heat sent shivers down his spine.

You just had to start tying your hair up.

Taking a deep breath, Toji briskly walked towards a nearby public restroom and locked himself in one of the vacant stalls.

His back pressed against the wall as he lowered his sweatpants and pulled his thick, trembling cock out, pre-cum trickling from the tip. He lowered his eyes and visualized you on your knees, grabbing his cock and circling your small, pink tongue around his tip. His head cruised back as you swallowed his length to the back of your warm throat, gagging, gasping, choking, bobbing your head back and forth. His fingers tightly held onto your tender scalp, fucking himself into your pretty, little mouth until your nose was crushed against his pelvis. He heard you begging, pleading, scratching at his hips to give you a breather, but Toji relentlessly fed you his cock, over and over and over—

Spurts of release erupted and splattered onto the stall's wall, with droplets dripping onto the floor. Toji opened his eyes only to find the space where your apparition was supposed to linger now empty. His hand was sticky and hot, smudged in the mess he’d made envisioning you. You. It was you who had provoked this intense response, causing him to reach a climax faster than ever before.

As Toji cleaned himself up, he couldn't ignore the unabashed stares from the onlookers, men who had clearly overheard him masturbating. Ignoring the judgmental gazes, he focused on formulating a plan to claim you, even if you fought or opposed it; he was convinced that, in time, you would surrender.

In his mind, you were already his.

Toji lingered for the next few hours on that park bench, focused on you. His eyes traced every move you made, absorbed in that stupid book of yours, oblivious to the frisbees and kites dancing above you. His gaze burned into the teenage boys engaged in soccer behind you, fuming as they carelessly neared you with the ball. Especially the one you beamed at after he half-heartedly apologized to you.

Fuck, that smile of yours was irreplaceable.

As you packed your mat into the duffle bag and rose, turning to dust your ass off from any debris sticking to it, Toji's thoughts took a blunt turn. Sleep was an impossibility now.

Following discreetly as you strolled down the path, immersed in the rhythm of your ear-throbbing music, Toji couldn't help but dissect every inch of you. Your clothes, undoubtedly high-end and branded, spoke volumes. The price tag on your headphones alone easily flirted with seven hundred dollars, if not more. It was clear—you came from a life of comfort, perhaps a spoiled heir or held a proud position in some grand corporation. You were proving to be a challenging prize, a fish that refused to be easily caught.

You decided to take a pit stop at a vegan café where they charged an arm and a leg for a tiny cup of espresso.

Patiently, Toji lingered outside, cigarette dangling from his lips, the ember casting shadows on his sharp features. Peering through the glass, he caught glimpses of your animated conversation with a male barista. Though, the bastard's eyes were shamelessly speaking to your cleavage.

Toji hadn’t killed anyone for fun in a while; maybe the lanky fucker was going to start a new streak.

As you emerged, holding your iced coffee and muffin like some divine offering, he noticed the scribbles on the napkin. Ah, the barista's number, huh? The son-of-a-bitch just signed his own death warrant.

With a flick of your wrist, you crumpled the napkin and tossed it into the trash, conveniently placed right next to him.

Your eyes locked.

The cigarette in Toji's mouth hung suspended in a moment that seemed to stretch forever. Your gaze shot up as you took in the powerful physique of the man, the scar tracing its path on his left lip, and the black, sleek strands of hair framing those perilous, obsidian-green eyes. He was more than just attractive; he was a magnetic force, and you could feel the tingling of anxiety dancing on your skin. Too bad your family had always drummed into you the importance of polished over rugged.

Despite the internal turmoil, you turned on your heel and continued walking, nonchalantly sipping on your cold coffee to ease the tension building within you. There was an undeniable urge to steal one last glance at him, an itch in your brain pushing you to do so. With feigned composure, you added an extra sway to your hips, aware that his eyes were still on you.

Toji’s eyes were glued to your ass. Was he breathing? Nope. He was sure he’d busted his cover just then. You had checked him out for thirty whole seconds, the opportunity to speak suspended in the air, only to be pulled apart and crumble at his feet.

But he didn’t care.

He shadowed your every move, navigating through busy intersections, seamlessly blending into the teeming masses, keeping up with only the sway of your swinging ponytail and your ass. Fuck, he loved your ass. He wanted to spank it red, bruise the flesh for teasing you.

Finally, you stepped into the most luxurious hotel in the city.

Toji wondered if you were a local or a visitor from abroad. If he had to purchase a plane ticket to tail you back to your residence, he'd gladly do it. It was insane how unknowingly you had him trapped, wrapped around your perfectly manicured finger.

The lobby was nothing short of fucking fancy.

The place was decked out with marble floors that shone so much he could almost see his reflection. A huge chandelier hung from the ceiling, sparkling with a zillion crystals.

The furniture was all plush and comfortable, like sinking into a cloud. Big, ornate couches and chairs scattered around, all in rich, deep colors.

In the middle was a fancy concierge desk with people in sharp suits and friendly smiles ready to help out. He caught a whiff of some subtle, expensive scent in the air—not too overpowering, just enough to make him feel like he was out of place.

There was a low hum of activity—people chatting, the clinking of glasses from the bar nearby, maybe some soft piano music in the background. He couldn't help but feel a bit important just standing there like he'd stepped into a world where everything was a little more polished and refined.

He was in hell.

"Dad!" you exclaimed, striding towards your father amidst a crowd of his guards and members of the family hotel enterprise board.

"Darling!" Your father embraced you briefly, then caught a whiff of something unusual around you. "Were you smoking?"

Shit.

That attractive stranger from before had been smoking and the scent must’ve stuck to your clothes.

"I bumped into a friend who was," you lied, acknowledging your father's associates with a nod. Your current appearance didn't exactly match the polished image your mother presented to the press, but it was a facet appreciated by some online fans. As the heiress to the family hotel, however, you understood the importance of maintaining grace.

Even on your days-off.

"How was your meeting?" you asked.

"Same old, same old. Nothing for you to worry about," he replied dismissively.

"I mean, shouldn't I be involved? I'm almost twenty-one. It might be time for me to learn the ropes of managing—"

"I'm still around, aren't I?" Your father pushed your arm, causing you to stagger slightly. "Why don't you go freshen up now? We have a family dinner tonight." Family dinners, in this case, were elaborate affairs with your father and mother's vast social circles, almost a societal event. Unfortunately, everything was hosted at the hotel, making you feel like you were in a gilded cage.

"Sure, Dad."

He planted a quick kiss on your cheek and walked past you.

You stared at his retreating figure and the group of men you would eventually be working with, all of them vanishing through the hotel's automatic doors until the lights surrounding you became a blur. Your fingers touched your wet eyes, the back of your shaky hand wiping at your cheeks.

Despite the hurt, your training to act classy in public kicked in. You rolled back your shoulders, attempted a smile, and walked toward the elevators leading to your personal suite.

Observing the unfolding scenario from a discreet vantage point nearby, Toji, with arms and ankles casually crossed, wore a devilish smirk at how effortlessly the situation had played into his hands.

His room was on the twelfth floor.

It served as a temporary base for the two nights he had planned to stay. Plenty of time, in his calculation, to claim you as his own. He walked the fine line between confidence and cockiness, especially when dealing with a woman of your caliber. If he were to leave empty-handed, Toji carried a darkness within that would annihilate those you loved, a merciless flood of destruction until you had no choice but to turn to him. His sights were set on you, beginning with your pretentious father.

Yes, Toji had researched each and every single human associated with you.

Your father was a titan in the hospitality game and built an empire that stretched across the map. His hotels sprouted like mushrooms, and his wealth skyrocketed faster than you could say "check-in." He portrayed himself as the picture-perfect family man, but lurking in the shadows were dealings that'd make you think twice about tagging him with the 'daddy dear' label. During one of his many interviews, he let slip a desire for a son. When the inevitable talk of you inheriting the hotels surfaced, he'd chuckle, saying, "We'll see about that."

Toji absentmindedly toyed with his pocket knife, thinking of ways he’d cut your father’s tongue and shove it down his throat.

Then there's your mom, the classic trophy wife. No accomplishments to her name, just born into a world of idle gossip and social climbing. Since you were in diapers, she's been molding you into the picture-perfect daughter for the public eye. Nannies raised you, and she only paid attention when it came to playing matchmaker, setting you up with aristocratic jerks.

Toji might spare your mother only because she was an airhead being puppeteered by your father’s gimmicks.

You, on the contrary, were as perfect as one could get. Top of your class all through elementary to high school, currently enrolled in a business Ivy program at a prestigious university, president of the student union, and an active team player in clubs as absurd as juggling.

Your carefully crafted social media presence had Toji rolling his eyes. An avid reader who probably devoured Shakespeare in between saving the world and a lover of sunsets because nothing said depth like a passion for the fading light. Your commitment to wildlife, starting a charity for animals in captivity that was funded strictly by your family's friends. He bet the lions and tigers sent you thank-you cards.

Toji forcefully closed his laptop, took a deep breath, and sank into his mattress, gripping the roots of his hair.

He knew he wanted you. He wanted to touch you, to be inside of you, to break you and put you together again. The image of you being pushed by your father played in his mind, making his heart threaten to burst from his chest.

Despite the depraved thoughts, Toji was genuinely curious about you. The real you. The person seeking love in the same way you offered it to others. He wanted to fuck you but also take great care of you. He wanted to make you cry, but only when you were underneath him, begging for more. He’d kill himself if he hurt you otherwise. He questioned if a dormant monster within you waiting to be awakened by his own.

There had to be.

And he would be the one to root it out.

Toji pulled himself together, took a quick shower, and threw on the best outfit he had found in his cramped closet within his even more cramped apartment while packing. Living in close quarters didn't bother him; after all, his income came from a rather unconventional source—he was a professional assassin, taking out targets for clients that ranged from politicians to drug dealers. Penthouses and sports cars weren't his style, even if he could afford them; he preferred the simple life, spending most of his earnings on one thing he enjoyed the most: gambling on horse racing.

Knowing that you'd be at the bar, Toji decided to do a bit of reconnaissance. He hacked into the private security servers of the hotel, observing your movements from the corridor to the public areas. He saw you leaving your room in a stunning maroon gown, hair elegantly pinned up, and lips painted a vibrant red. His dick jerked in his trousers.

He spotted you alone at the bar, enjoying a cyan-colored drink. The smooth expanse of your back in that revealing dress nearly made him come in his pants right there and then.

Cracking his neck muscles, Toji walked up to the bartender, positioning himself about two meters away from where you sat. He pulled out a cigarette and flicked the silver lighter, flaming the end of the dart. Drawing in the first drag, he exhaled a plume of smoke. “I’ll take a whiskey.”

Giving you a casual once-over, Toji noticed you tracing circles on the table, lips in a pout, and eyes blinking languidly.

“Rough day?” he asked, settling into the seat beside you.

“You have no idea—” You looked sideways and met the dark green eyes of the attractive stranger. Your nails were now idle on the table, and you sat up straight. A breath caught in your chest, and you greeted him with a simple "Hi."

“Hi.” He pulled out the cigarette to take a sip, lips pulling in to savor the sharp taste of his whiskey. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, sweetheart.”

Your chest skipped a beat at the unexpected nickname. "I-I— Are you stalking me or something?"

“Stalking is a strong word, doll. I prefer 'casual observation.'”

“So you’re stalking me?”

The stranger chuckled, and your knees quivered from the husky, rough sound. “You're a vision, sure,” he said, his voice a slight victim to the smoking, “but I’m too much of a gentleman to do such a thing.”

You observed his clothes closely. He was dressed in a sleek black formal ensemble with impeccably shiny Oxfords. However, his hair was neatly combed down instead of styled up, and you caught the silver hoop adorning his left ear. The idea of him being sent by your mother or being the son of one of your father's friends quickly crossed your mind, but you ruled out the possibility. Maybe him being outside that café and being here was a complete coincidence.

“The name’s Toji.” He extended his hand for a shake. You glanced at the faded scars on the back of his hands. And when you hesitantly slipped your hand through his, the roughness of his palm rubbed against your softer one. “Ever washed a dish in your life, sweetheart?”

A shake of your head was all the admission he needed.

"Yeah, figured as much." Toji turned your hand, his thumb tracing a journey along its unblemished terrain.

You quickly took back your hand and placed it on your lap. “I’m sure you know my name.”

Toji tilted his head. “Am I supposed to?”

You blinked. In a world where your family name echoed through the corridors of the hotel, his genuine ignorance was a rarity. "I'm Y/N.”

"Y/N," he echoed, your name a lazy caress on your skin. Above the rim of his nearly empty glass, he regarded you with a watchful gaze. “The fuck is that, anyway? Windex?”

You raised your drink. “It’s a mocktail. I have a family dinner in an hour so I can’t drink. My father says it’ll impede my ability to talk. I can’t mess anything up.”

He half-rolled his eyes. “You like Coke?”

“Like, the soda?”

"What else, sweetheart?" He swiped a finger under his nose, throwing in a wink. "Unless that's your thing."

“No.” Your cheeks heated. “I like diet Coke, I suppose.”

Toji locked eyes with you and signaled the bartender. "Vodka diet coke for the lady."

"What?" You started to object, but Toji's hand clasped around your forearm, freezing you. “Remove your hand right now.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin playing on his lips. If he weren't so irritatingly charming, you might have considered introducing your mocktail to his face with a quick call to security as a chaser. “Just don’t want you to die knowing you never tried vodka.” His cheeks hollowed as he inhaled, exhaling wisps of smoke that danced in captivating swirls. “Ever smoked?”

You shook your head, a coy resistance to his vices obvious on your face. "It's detrimental to your health, you know. Consistent smoking can fast-track your journey to an early death. If you're aiming for more than thirty candles on your birthday cake, I'd advise a little moderation."

A sardonic chuckle escaped him. “Well, fuck.” He inspected the dart in his hand as if it held the secrets of the universe. “Guess I missed the invitation for my funeral five years ago.”

He’s old.

“Too old for you, sweetheart?” He dipped his head conspiratorially, locking eyes with you. "Hope you're not collecting a set of daddy issues like souvenirs."

You shot him sidelong glances, a subtle shake of your head. "I happen to like my dad, thank you very much."

“You’re welcome.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small puff of a laugh at his response.

He shot you a grin, his scar stealing a moment of your attention before the vodka diet Coke presented itself. “You still in school?”

You nodded. “University.”

“Yeah? You like it?”

“Keeps me distracted.”

“From?”

Your hand swept through the ambience of the hotel's bar, and Toji followed your motion, absorbing the surroundings. “I don’t know if my name rang a bell at all, but I’m to inherit this place.”

“Didn’t.” Toji raised his glass, gesturing his chin at the vodka diet coke in front of you. “Let’s drink to it.”

“I told you I can’t. I’m also lightweight. Besides, I don’t want it on my tab. My father keeps a check—”

“My father this, my father that.” Toji sighed, taking your drink and snagging a straw from a nearby container. He placed it near your lips. “Your father might have set the stage, but he can't dictate the play. Take a sip. If you hate it, fuck it. That work for you, sweetheart?"

You frowned at the subtle pressure venting from him. A fleeting swipe of your tongue traced your lower lip, drawing Toji's gaze to the subtle curve. His intense scrutiny left you feeling strangely singled out, a rare occurrence in a world where every tidbit of your life laid at the fingertips of anyone with an internet connection. Your secrets were a vault locked tight, shared with no one but yourself. Indulging in personal interests took a back seat to your responsibilities, and you strictly stuck to a scripted persona to protect your family's reputation. Even something as mundane as sipping on a vodka diet Coke.

Toji set the drink on the table, slipping a generous tip to the bartender. His financial status seemed modest, likely someone comfortably positioned enough to book a room in your hotel. “Listen, sweetheart, I don’t often give out advice ‘cuz frankly, I'm not exactly an expert on your generation.” He took a final drag of his cigarette, extinguished it under his foot, and nonchalantly dropped the remains into your drink. “But, you might want to dust off that brilliant little brain of yours sooner rather than later. Mind passing me a pen, buddy?”

The tender handed him a sharpie instead, and Toji scribbled out something on a napkin.

“Are you leaving?” you asked, feeling somewhat disappointed in yourself. You wanted him to ask you more questions. You wanted to know more about him.

“Afraid so, doll.” He folded the napkin, both of you surreptitiously scanning the surroundings before he handed it over. A smirk played on his lips, causing you to rethink the urgency with which you accepted it. “Your old man taught you lots of lessons, but seems like 'Stranger Danger' wasn't part of his curriculum, huh?”

“He doesn’t completely control me.”

Toji smirked, tapping the folded napkin. “Well, we're about to test that theory."

He left you perched on the barstool, and the moment he vanished, you unfolded the napkin, heart pounding.

ROOM 1231.

Sooner or later.

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a-reverii · 4 months

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▸ REVERII'S DECEMBER FIC RECS

━━ ✰ THE WIZARDING WORLD.

sirius black

aren't promises meant to be broken? ⇢ @perpetuallydaydreaming

style. ⇢ @bealovesmarauders

his favorite neighbour. ⇢ @kquil

attention. ⇢ @/kquil

right where i want to be. ⇢ @appocalipse

the dark night. ⇢ @bruisedboys

oblivious. ⇢ @bitesizedgremlin

regulus black

hidden messages in foreign languages. ⇢ @applebutter-and-cinnamon

vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche. ⇢ @/deactivated

his last letter. ⇢ @hamlets-ak

tricks and charms. ⇢ @curseofaphrodite

across the sea. ⇢ @/curseofaphrodite

the night we met. ⇢ @/curseofaphrodite

frosted practices. ⇢ @henqtic

remus lupin

by tired hands. ⇢ @luveline

skirts. @flwrbo

not so secret admirer. @/kquil

you're losing me. @astonishment

never his. @weasleykisses

wherever you stray i follow. @mediocre-daydreams

━━ ( navigation ) ( masterlist ) ( request )

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dindjarindiaries · 2 months

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I Still See You

summary: In the aftermath of the Morak mission, Din’s faced with a crisis you only hope you can help to resolve somehow.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x reader

tags: angst, trauma, religious guilt, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff

rating: T

word count: 3.582k

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

You could only take your first deep breath when Din was finally back in your sight. He trudged down the boarding ramp of Boba Fett’s vessel, a stark contrast to the confidence with which he carried himself on Karthon upon facing Mayfeld. The Imperial armor he wore was no doubt responsible for that.

These thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind as you closed the gap between you with hurried steps. Your greeting was breathless in your hardly concealed desperation. “Hey.” You set your hand on his shoulder that was down a pauldron, a substitution for the embrace you so badly wished to give him. You knew better with the eyes of others watching you. “How’d it go?”

Din took a gentle grasp on your wrist and subverted your expectations in a way that made your eyes go wide. He dropped your hand from his shoulder and, despite the watching eyes, wrapped his arms around you, his gloved palms splayed upon your back. He was tense with a breath you could feel in the heaviness of his shoulders as you held him back, but he released the tension with a sigh of relief as his fists gently closed around the material of your tunic.

He was grounding himself back to you, and as sweet as that feeling was, it was also harrowing. Something had gone wrong. Your heart sunk into the depths of your stomach. Have we lost all hope of getting Grogu back?

“We got the coordinates.” Din spoke as if he had just read your mind. His voice was quiet, but not enough to give anything away.

You exhaled in your own relief, your eyes closing as you held him tighter. “Thank the stars.” You paused to see if he would reveal what was behind the invisible weight on his shoulders, and when he didn’t, you spoke once again. “What else?”

Din’s chest inflated with a breath. “That’s it. The mission’s done.” He pulled away from you but kept you close, gesturing with his helmeted head back to the ship behind him. “I’m letting Mayfeld change before I do the same.” His rasp slightly gave out as he said the words, a tell only you could identify.

You gave him another once-over and moved closer to him. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” Din looked away from you, one of his gloved hands holding his fist as he let out a gentle exhale. “Just… had a run-in with some pirates.” He rolled his shoulders and tapped the armorless one you had been holding earlier. “This armor isn’t as strong as beskar.”

You weren’t fully convinced, but his logic tracked. There was no doubt a fight without his beskar would leave him sore, especially if he had forgotten about the fact he wasn’t wearing it. “How many pirates?”

Din huffed, his hands falling back to his sides. “Let’s just say it was more than one.”

You managed to chuckle with him as you nudged his bare shoulder with your own. “That explains all those explosions.”

The visor of Din’s Imperial helmet gave you an evident once-over. “You weren’t near them, were you?”

“No, not at all.” You couldn’t help smiling at his concern for you. “The three of us were just surprised by them at the lookout.”

Din nodded. “Good.”

Something still wasn’t right, and it hung between you like a dense storm cloud. Even as Din’s visor looked beyond you, his gloved hand found yours, and he held your fingers in his grasp. The move was subconscious, another act of grounding that he had to do.

Yet, he still wouldn’t tell you why.

You wanted to believe, and could truly believe, that it was just the longing for Grogu, and the guilt that had been eating away at him ever since Tython. That was what had kept him up at night whenever you attempted rest before this mission. In his eyes, it was his own failure, and it always would be until he could make things right.

Now, he had the coordinates. You all did. You had the chance to help him make things right, but that darkness didn’t disappear from him. In fact, it was more intense than before.

“How was Mayfeld?” You hoped the question would ease the tension somehow, or at least help you get to the root of whatever Din was hiding from you. “I almost thought he wouldn’t make it back with the way he was talking before you left.”

Din tensed. So, it had something to do with Mayfeld. That didn’t surprise you; it only made you kick yourself for not thinking of it earlier. “It was… better than expected.” Din nodded and looked at you again. “He wasn’t as bad as I thought he’d be.” He gave his head a quick tilt to the side. “Most of the time, at least.”

“Yeah?” You offered him a small smile, hoping it would either dispel or reveal the invisible weight he held upon his shoulders. “I bet that bonding time spent inside the juggernaut wasn’t awkward at all.”

That at least got a chuckle out of Din. “Yeah. It was…” He trailed off, his visor looking into the distance again. His grasp on your hand pulsated, as if he couldn’t decide whether to hold on or let go.

You gave him time, but soon, your concern got the best of you. Your voice was a whisper as you called for him. “Din?”

Din’s visor found your gaze, though he couldn’t speak before someone else did. “Good work back there,” Cara’s voice announced from behind you. You closed your eyes and took a breath, forcing yourself to mask your worry for now as you turned to face her. She nodded at Din. “Destroying the facility was a good call.”

“It wasn’t mine.” Din gestured to the ship behind him. “It was Mayfeld’s.”

Cara raised an eyebrow. “Huh.” Her tone revealed her genuine surprise. “Well, he really has some sharpshooter in him, I’ll give him that. It was a nice shot.”

“It was.”

“You made it easy for us.” It was Fennec who now joined the group, and she rested the end of her rifle against the ground to lean on it as she offered Din a nod of her own. “The three of us didn’t have to do much.”

“I saw your shots when we made our exit.” Din’s hand had dropped yours when Cara approached, but it remained busy at his side, pulling tight into a fist before relaxing again. “We couldn’t have made it without them.”

Your jaw tightened at that. The same thought had run through your mind whilst you were helping Cara and Fennec shoot down the Imperials. It’s what made your shots even more lethal.

“Mando!” Mayfeld’s voice was the one that grabbed everyone’s attention that time. Din practically whipped over his shoulder to face Mayfeld, who had changed back into the clothes he had been given at the beginning of the mission. “You’re good to go.”

Din tilted his helmet. “That was fast.”

Mayfeld huffed. “Yeah, that’s ‘cause I don’t have a thousand layers of armor to exchange.” He patted Din’s shoulder as he passed him by, and you were shocked to see that Din wasn’t bothered by it. “Good luck getting that off. It’s harder than it was to put on, and I didn’t think that was possible.”

Din snorted, and after a moment’s hesitation in which you were certain he shuffled towards you, he walked back towards the ship. You watched him the whole way, your jaw circling as you read him the best you could. Based on his interaction with Mayfeld, that wasn’t the key, after all. There was something far, far worse he was hiding, but you couldn’t think of what it would be.

There was a gentle hand on your shoulder, and as you turned to face it, you met Cara’s comforting glance. “So,” she began, clearly trying to get your mind off Din for the time being, “I heard the mission was a success.”

You cracked a genuine smile at that. “Yes. We have the coordinates.” Your gaze found Mayfeld’s and you nodded at him. “Thank you for your help.”

Mayfeld held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, it wasn’t really my choice.” Cara rolled her eyes as you lifted an eyebrow in warning. “But, really, it was mostly Mando. I just…” he paused, stalling as his gaze looked off to the side, “supported him.”

Your brow furrowed. Before you could interrogate him, Cara continued the conversation, remaining curt with him so as to not give him any true authority—despite how well the mission went. You were too lost inside your own mind to pay any attention to what they were saying. Mayfeld’s behavior was almost as odd as Din’s.

There was something you weren’t being told, and Din wasn’t the only one keeping it a secret.

Only the chiming of the comm link on your belt could pull you from your worried reverie. You stepped out of the circle the group had made and held the comm close to your lips. “Din?” Your gaze pierced through the open hatch of Boba’s ship. “Is everything okay?”

There was a pause before Din spoke. “Can you come help me?” Your heart shattered at the way his voice shook even through the comm link. “I… need help re-suiting.”

That was fair. You had been a part of the routine in helping Din remove and re-suit his beskar for so long that it was no surprise he needed your help to do it now—but something about it still felt different. That wasn’t a request. It was a plea. “Of course. I’m on my way.” You hung the comm link back on your belt and turned your head towards the group. “I’ll be back.”

As you started to walk towards the ship, Cara shot a lighthearted joke towards you. “You two better not take long! We’ve got an Imp to hunt!”

You lifted your middle finger without looking back at her, even if the joke managed to temporarily dispel the darkness from your racing thoughts. You smiled and shook your head as you lowered your hand, but as soon as you stepped into Boba’s ship and caught sight of Din within its depths, every sensation of warmth within you died.

For the first time since you met him many years ago, you were looking upon a pair of brown eyes instead of a dark visor.

You wanted to cover your eyes, turn your back on him, do anything to keep yourself from breaking Din’s Creed, but there was no point. The damage had been done. All you could do was stare, your gaze no doubt leaving a fiery trail across the skin of his face as you observed every inch of it.

One thousand emotions hit you all at once; the grief of knowing what Din had lost in doing this, the elation of finally getting to put a face to your heart, the concern of looking into an empty gaze, the blazing warmth of realizing he was even more handsome than you had imagined. It was dizzying.

The only thing that could cut through the noise of your own mind and heart was Din’s shattered statement. “I can’t do it.”

You frowned, then looked at what he was holding. His helmet sat between his gloved hands, the empty visor facing you. Din’s own gaze was studying it, watching as the metal rocked between his trembling hands. Your furrowed brow loosened.

Din thought he had already broken his Creed before you even stepped inside the ship.

You took a cautious step towards him. “Din…”

“The Creed says I can’t put this back on again.” You watched the corner of Din’s mouth pull tight before it relaxed again. There was a place under his eye that began to twitch, and you wished more than anything that you knew the tells of his face just as you knew them on the rest of his body. “I’ve made my sacrifice.”

You continued to close the gap between you with careful steps. “All you did was exchange one helmet for another, Din. And not for long, either. You did what you had to for the foundling in your charge.”

Din shook his head, his jaw pulled tight as his gaze rose to meet yours again. You froze, the electricity of it shocking you whole, despite the devastation you found there in the depths of his brown eyes. “No.” He paused, swallowing hard as he focused on his helmet again. “They saw me.”

You kept your voice soft as you pressed on. “Who saw you?”

Din slowly fell back onto the chair that was behind him. His gaze never once left the helmet, as if looking anywhere else would sever his sole tether to the galaxy. “Everyone in that room saw me.”

You were finally close enough to touch him, but you knew better than to reach for his face, as badly as you wanted to. Instead, your hand covered one of his on his helmet, and you knelt down to get closer to his level. Your quiet comfort allowed Din to explain himself.

“There was a terminal that held the coordinates to Gideon’s cruiser. It required a facial scan.” Din lifted his thumb to caress one of your fingers the best he could. “I had no other choice. It was either that or…” He couldn’t even bring the thought to life.

“You made the right one.” You nodded at Din, pleased to at least earn his gaze once again.

“I know.” Din’s voice lowered to an empty whisper as that place beneath his eye twitched again. “But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

You took a deep breath to keep yourself composed for his sake. “I understand.” Your free hand ran over the top of his helmet that continued to sit in his lap. “Removing your helmet to save a foundling, though… is that not the highest honor of your people?”

Din hesitated, and he blinked a few times before nodding. You smiled in encouragement.

“This wasn’t you removing your helmet for a simple pleasure or for an escape from who you are, Din.” You took his hand from his helmet and held it between both of yours. “This was you doing everything you could to save someone in your care.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “Someone you love.”

Din’s eyes closed at that, and he squeezed them shut more and more as he tucked his head towards the shoulder that bore his mudhorn pauldron. His voice shook again as he spoke. “I hope he’s okay.”

“It won’t be long now until we have him back.” You ran your thumbs over his hand. “Thanks to you.”

Din reopened his eyes and found your gaze again. For a moment, his lips curled up in a small smile, one that was notable enough to make your stomach fill with butterflies as you witnessed it for the first time. It was short-lived, however, as he soon began to frown and lose himself in the depths of your own gaze. His voice was a pained whisper. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head at that. “For what? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Din took a hold of one of your wrists and guided your hand to the side of his face. As soon as you touched the warmth of his skin, he leaned into your palm, his eyes closing for a moment before he faced you with what felt like tangible despair. “I wanted it to be you.”

He didn’t have to explain it. He had told you enough times over the years for you to know. He had always wanted you to be the first to see him again, and he was intent on making that happen after this quest was over.

You pieced your own shattered heart together and smiled at him. “And here I am.” Your thumb ran over the skin under his eye that had twitched before, and based on the way his eyes welled with tears he no doubt refused to shed, you were able to determine what that tell of his meant. “I’m still seeing you.”

Din’s gaze gave you a nervous once-over. The warmth returned to your body upon getting to see it, rather than having to rely on the movement of his helmet. “What do you think?”

You smiled more and gently set aside his helmet with your free hand. “Can I show you?”

His gaze flickered to your lips before he nodded with another small smile of his own. You rose and took your place upon him, one that was as familiar as his lips were—only this time, it would finally be different. There would be no dent across his nose from the lip of his helmet, and no wrinkles in the skin around your eyes from a cloth pulled tight across them. Instead, it would be you and him, as pure and as perfect as you were meant to be.

You held onto him with all the same desperation he had just shown you, one of your hands cupping the side of his jaw and neck as the other wound itself tight in the hair that flowed freely from his head. Your mouth slotted over his time and time again and with each breath you shared, you intended to pull the darkness from within him, as if you could make a sacrifice as great as his own by taking away all his pain. You tilted his head back further to deepen it, intensifying every feeling until it could overwhelm whatever lies and harsh truths tore at his mind.

You only pulled away from each other when your lungs demanded it, your lips lingering as you relished in the last bit of sweet intoxication you could get. You opened your eyes to see Din’s still closed, as if he too was savoring the moment. His eyes began to flutter open when you ran your nails over the skin of his neck, guiding your hand to his cuirass.

“What did that tell you?” Your voice was breathy from both your lack of air and your sweet desire.

The corner of Din’s mouth rose before he answered in the same tone. “That I made a mistake making you wait this long for me.”

You returned his smile. “You haven’t made a single mistake.” You leaned down to pick his helmet up and tucked it under your arm. “Especially not today.”

Din’s gaze clouded with a brief spell of darkness that faded the moment you lifted your free hand to brush his hair away from his face.

“You’re everything I dreamed of and more, Din.” You kissed his forehead, smiling against his skin when he physically relaxed underneath your touch. When you pulled away, you faced him with sweet severity. “You will always be worth the wait.”

Din smiled, a sight so breathtakingly beautiful you never wanted to let it go—but Din was eager to share in your love again as his hand cupped the back of your neck and pulled you back to him. This time, he was the one who devoured you, his lips remaining on yours while his hands explored places that left you flustered.

You only broke apart when you heard a familiar voice yell from outside the ship. “Hey, kids! I said don’t take long!” Cara’s words made the two of you pull away instantly, and once you were sure she wasn’t looking inside the ship, you laughed with one another. “We’ve got other things to do!”

“We’ll be right out!” You managed to compose your laughter enough to get the words out, and with a deep breath, you fell back into severity. You took the helmet from under your arm and held it between your hands. “You may not be able to do this, but…” you paused and lowered the helmet over Din’s head, “I can do it for you.”

Din rested his helmet against your forehead, his hands holding your wrists to bring your hands to his chest. After a long pause, he spoke with a voice that was strained with meaning. “Thank you.” He gave your wrists a gentle squeeze. “I love you.”

You beamed at him. “I love you, too.” You added a kiss to his visor and sat up more. “I’ll always be here for you, Din. You know that.”

“I do.” Din eased his hands upon your waist and lifted the two of you from the chair. “That’s why I commed you.”

You only smiled wider at his words, your gaze searching the depths of his visor for the brown warmth hidden beneath it as he ran his hand over your back. Not everything was resolved; it was never that easy. Din would be wrestling with this day for a long time. But that wasn’t the point.

The point was that his sacrifice was given even more meaning, and he understood that you saw him in a way that went beyond mere sight. For now, that would be enough, just as he would always be enough for you.

main masterlist • din djarin masterlist

#i've been wanting to write this one since december 11 2020 #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #din djarin angst #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #dindjarindiaries

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dorotheataylor · 2 months

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Back to December

Pairing- Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

Summary- You broke up with him because you thought he deserved someone better than you. But here you stand, outside his door, apologising for that night, after realising you loved him too much to let him go. Based on Back to December (Taylor’s Version) by Taylor Swift.

Warnings- angstttt but fluff at the end, hurt/comfort, no curses!au, swearing (maybe), slight ooc suguru (hes called clumsy hehe), probably my english lol.

Word count- 2.3k (excluding lyrics)

A/N- atp yall just know how much big of a swiftie I am lol. So here’s a new fic based on another taylor song haha. And from now on I will write for JJK fandom too coz i’m obsessed lmao. Let me know if you find any mistakes coz this isn’t proofread and hope y’all enjoy.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You knocked three times on the door of the house you knew all too well as you picked your nails.

Will he want to see you? Will he shout at you? Will he tell you to get lost? Whatever he does, you knew you deserved it.

You stood outside his door impatiently, nerves getting the best of you while you waited for him to open the door. You could hear things falling down from behind it.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. He was always the clumsy one. One of his things which you missed too much. Your eyes fell on thought of this. Oh how much you wished for a change in your mind back then.

You heard the lock of the door being undone and you started to freak out from inside. Was it a good idea to come here? Maybe. You were about to find out.

“Sorry for the delay. I was caught up-” You heard his voice quiet down when he saw you. God how much you missed his voice. You could listen to his voice every second of the day if possible.

You’ve been good, busier than ever

"Y/N," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper as he took in your presence on his doorstep, as if he was making sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

The way he said your name, ached your heart. Because it wasn’t filled with love or warmth as before, instead it was more like recognising a stranger.

You took a deep breath before speaking, “long time no see, Suguru.” You smiled slightly.

He couldn’t believe it. He never thought he’d ever see you again after that unfaithful night. The wishes he made to see you every night before he went to bed actually came true. He could actually hear your voice after whole six months. He felt like he was about to cry.

Your guard is up and I know why

All he wanted to do at this moment was to take you in his arms and never let you go again. But he knew he couldn’t. What if you were here to make things even more awful than they already were? He couldn’t handle another heartbreak. So he stood his ground and decided to talk to you in a civil way.

“Come inside. It’ll start s-snowing soon.” He said, mentally cursing himself for stammering as he stepped aside to let you in.

“Thank you.” You muttered before entering his house. The familiar feeling came back to you. The aura and memories of his house, where you had spent countless nights together crashed into your mind like ocean waves. It was overwhelming and you did your best not to burst into tears.

“I’ll bring you something to drink. You can make yourself comfortable till then.” You heard him speak as he quickly walked into the kitchen.

Because the last time you saw me

Is still burned in the back of your mind

You knew he was doing his best to avoid a more than casual conversation with you. Because the last time you had talked, things turned bitter.

You gave me roses and I left them there to die

You still remembered that day like the back of your hand. He had showed up at your house with roses to surprise you and take you out on a surprise date. And you, being a stupid person, ruined it all.

“Here. I didn’t have anything else except for hot chocolate plus I know how much you love it.” He said handing you the cup filled with hot chocolate, his voice becoming a soft mutter at the last part.

‘He still remembers my likes and dislikes.’ You thought as you smiled softly at him and took the cup, your hands brushing a little. Your cheeks immediately turn red as you tried to hide them, while Suguru thanked the gods that his red cheeks won’t be obvious because it’s winter.

I’d go back to December, turn around and make it all right

But you knew him. You were slightly relieved you still had some effects on him like before. How much you regretted leaving him like that. If only you could go back time and make things right.

You took a sip of your hot chocolate before speaking, “thanks for the hot chocolate, Suguru.”

Geto thought he’d just die right now. The way you said his name, it made him want to forget everything that happened and just hold you into his arms, never letting you go again. But he knew he couldn’t do that.

After some long moments of silence, you decided to break it and said, “how have you been, Suguru?”

“I’ve been- good.” He said with a pause in between. He was lying, but he didn’t want you to know his mental state ever since you had left. “What about you?”

You couldn’t repeat his answer for this question, because you knew it was far from the truth. You couldn’t quite recall the last time you slept peacefully. Maybe it was when you were in Suguru’s arms, safe and loved.

Staying up playing back myself leaving

Your mind replayed memories of that unfaithful night, as if trying to torture you for what you had done. It had started to hurt physically. How much you just wanted apologise and hold him into your arms. But you knew you had lost that right. Why? Because of your stupid insecurities.

You had been in a few relationships in the past apart from Geto. And you were always called out for every little thing you did. Whether it was from the way you ate, or the way you talked, they’d make sure to remind you that you weren’t enough and weird, until they all left you alone. This lead you to believe the same, that you were the problem.

That was until you met Suguru. He was everything you could ask in a man. He was charming, a true gentleman, kind and caring boyfriend who never failed to remind you how much you mean to him.

And I think about Summer, all the beautiful times

You often daydreamed about all your memories from your relationship, from sneaking out at night to late night car drives, from celebrating each other’s birthdays to forgetting plans you’d made with your other friends. Your relationship with him was something you read in books about.

You still remembered the day when you realised that he was the guy you were going to marry someday. You had overheard him talking to Gojo about you. You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop but when he mentioned your name, your ears had perked up. And the way be kept on talking about how amazing you were and how much he loved you, you knew he was the one for you.

Then the cold came, the dark days when fear crept right into my mind

But of course you had to ruin it all. The ‘what if’ thoughts came back to you. The thought of losing him because you weren’t good enough for him, scared you. You had told him about your past relationships, and he always reminded you that you are more than enough for him and he loves you with all of his heart.

Fuck your stupid negativity. You tried to believe him, you really did. But your mind wouldn’t let you. So it lead you to the one thing which you knew you were going to regret for the rest of your life. You let him go. And you hated yourself for it.

You gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye

You still remembered the way his face had immediately fallen the moment you spoke those words. He had tried to reason with you, but you wouldn’t listen. And you had slammed the door shut on his face.

Geto didn’t stop bombarding your phone with countless texts and missed calls for days. But you didn’t reply to any of them. Until one day he stopped. Maybe he realised that he was just wasting time being after you. Maybe he realised that you were the problem after all.

It turns out freedom ain’t nothing but missing you

Wishing I’d realised what I had when you were mine

You thought you had did the right thing but turns out, you didn’t. You had only made things worse for both of you. Because you know what they say, you only realise the value of something when its gone. And it turns out that you had loved him too much. You couldn’t let him go. Because you had realised that he was too precious for you to let go and you couldn’t survive without him.

So here you were, six months later, on his couch, drinking hot chocolate. You slowly came out of your thoughts and said the only thing which came into your mind, “I’m sorry.”

To say Geto was surprised was an understanding. He expected anything but an apology from you tonight. Blame him for being conscious and hurt. He didn’t say anything, giving the cue to continue.

“I’m so sorry, Suguru.” You started, trying your best not to sob, “I know this is probably the last thing you expect from me and won’t believe me but I mean it. I’m really sorry. I’m such a fucked up person, who always makes things worse, ruins perfectly going on lives of people, who always lives in self-doubts.”

“Y/N, I-”, Geto started to say something but you cut him off before he could say it.

“Please let me finish.” Geto nodded in response.

I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile, so good to me so right

And how you held me in your arms that September night, the first time you ever saw me cry

“I miss everything about you, about us. I miss how every morning you didn’t fail to wish me ‘good morning’, I miss how you never forgot to check up on me, I miss how you always found a way to make me feel special. I miss how you always held me close to you whenever I didn’t feel like myself. And most of all, I miss the way you used to love me.” You said, tears now falling uncontrollably from your eyes but you don’t care, determined to make things right.

I’d go back in time and change it but I can’t

So you continued, “thing is that I love you, Suguru Geto. And I love you too much to let you go. I made a stupid move by letting you go when all I wanted to do was hold you into my arms. And I hate myself for it. These past six months, I’ve been terrible. There’s not been a single day where I have not wished for myself to be somehow able to go back in time and make things right, stop myself from leaving. But I know I can’t.” You took a deep breath.

So if the chain is on your door I understand

“I know my actions are not something to be easily forgiven, but I promise to do anything to win your trust and love back. I’m willing to change. I’m willing to make things up with you. I swear that if you take me back again, I will love you right and never let you go. Because I have realised my life is nothing if you’re not in it. Please take me back, Suguru. I promise to prove myself worthy of your love.” You couldn’t speak anything after this, sobs continuously escaping your mouth.

Geto stood there, tears in his eyes as well, contemplating what to say. Your apology had caught him off guard, but he knew you had meant every word. He knew that his life was incomplete without you too.

But this is me swallowing my pride

You didn’t hear him speak for a good few minutes, so you take his silence as rejection. Of course he would reject you. You had hurt him, why would he want to get back with someone like you. You let out a shaky breath as a sigh, disappointment for you escaping through it as you stood up.

Standing in front of you saying I’m sorry for that night

You attempted to smile through your tears. If this was going to be the last time you see him, might as well say goodbye with a smile.

“I got your answer, Suguru. Thank you for giving me best moments of my life. Maybe I didn’t get to have you back, but at least I can live on with your memories. Maybe I-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence as you felt a pair of all too familiar lips on yours, shutting you up.

It turns our freedom ain’t nothing but missing you

You widened your eyes from surprise but immediately shut them as you kissed back, your hands reaching to hug his neck, bringing him closer to you. Suguru wrapped his one arm around your waist and other made its way in your nape, holding you just like he always used to.

Both of you could taste salty tears as you kissed, but weren’t sure who’s they were. All that mattered in that moment was the two of you. You poured all of your love, apprehensions, bottled up feelings for him, regrets into this kiss. He kissed you with same passion. As if your lips were the only thing he needed to survive.

Few moments later, Geto pulled away, foreheads still attached to yours, as he looked into your eyes. “Y/N, in these six months, you made me realise that the only thing which can complete me whole is you. Not getting to tell you these was tearing me apart. I thought I had lost you for good, but then you showed up at my door and all those feelings I had for you doubled. I love all of you, Y/N and I always will. And I’m willing to give us another chance, just promise me that you will talk to me next time you have those negative thoughts.”

Your heart melted hearing his words as you nodded, “I promise.”

Suguru ran his hand through your hair as he spoke again, “and I-I’ll need some time to completely forgive you. I hope you understand that. I’m just scared that you’ll leave me again.”

You quickly shook your head, “I mean it this time, Suguru. I’d never even dream of leaving you. I just got you back. And it’s okay. Take your time. I’m willing to wait for you, even if it is for an eternity.”

Suguru smiled at your words and pulled you into his chest as he swayed you slowly, holding you tightly close to him, and you finally felt complete again. You kissed his neck as you returned his gesture, silently promising him and yourself to never give up on him and let him go ever again.

I’d go back to December all the time

________________________________________

Ahhh I loved writing angst sm but it always breaks my heart if it doesn’t end with fluff. Anyways hope y’all liked this and if you want, you can send in request for JJK characters too!

(I might’ve gotten a little carried away at the end but i think it was worth it lmao)

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #jujutsu sorcerer #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto fluff #geto angst #geto x you #gojo satoru #jjk suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #gojo x reader #taylor swift #speak now taylor’s version #back to december #jjk angst

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fastcardotmp3 · 5 months

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fluke

for @steddiemicrofic December 2023 prompt: PINE | words: 508 | rated: G | established relationship; no CW (I wrote fluff, are you proud of me?)

They come into the land by a total and complete fluke.

An empty Tennessee plot that hasn't seen use in decades, it's got a shed of a cabin built by Eddie's great grandfather, likely no modern plumbing, and it's perfect.

A perfect fucking fluke that the Munson family is fractured in enough ways that Eddie and Wayne are the only direct decedents around to inherit the land and all of its endless potential.

Or so Steve calls it.

“I mean, look! A balcony,” he jogs out a handful of yards across the snow-dusted plot of land, spreads his arms wide like he can see it, “right here-- a table and chairs-- a spot to look out at the view.”

The view is also a fluke. A gorgeous overlook of the Blue Ridge Mountains sort of fluke.

“It could even be two-story with stairs,” he gestures upward, such a skip in his step and a flush to his cheeks that Eddie can't help but think that he's a perfect sort of fluke too, Steve Harrington, “that lead right up to a second balcony right outside the bedroom. Yeah?”

He's beaming, positively glowing, and Eddie is mostly just stunned when he nods in agreement. Arms crossed tight to hold in the warmth of his coat and the hair not tucked into his knit cap whipping across his face in the wind, he nods.

Next month, Eddie will turn thirty years old even though he was supposed to die at nineteen, and Steve Harrington's face is going soft with something like understanding as he plans out the blueprints for the house they'll grow old in.

High up in the mountains. So far from the holes in the ground that once tried to drag them to hell.

“C'mere,” Steve strides back over to him, some of the broad exuberance leaving his step but none of the joy as he grapples for Eddie's hand and drags him to the other side of the plot, “okay, so from about here--” he gestures to where they stand, “to over by those trees, there's space for a guest house, don't you think?”

“A guest house?” Eddie looks at Steve questioningly.

“For Wayne. Now that he's finally retiring.”

Eddie may be the creative force when it comes to words and sound between them, but it's in moments like this that Steve proves the kind of vision he has. He can stand here on a nearly empty plot of land, a cabin so neglected the windows are boarded up and the porch rotted through, and still he sees a life.

A future. A family. Not just a fantasy but their prize, if they choose to take it.

“Hardwood floors. Pine,” Steve says, grin only growing as Eddie gapes at him in awe, takes his face between gloved palms, “oak furniture-- I'll build it myself.”

Eddie exhales, fog of breath dancing across Steve's crooked nose. “You really would, wouldn't you?”

Steve grins and kisses him soundly in the place that will become their home.

What a remarkable little fluke.

#dot fic #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicrofic december #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fluff I say! a fun challenge while i try to figure out how to be excited about my own writing again i say!#i wanted to write like a bunch more of this actually so paring it down was tricky

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comp-lady · 6 months

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DOMESTIC DECEMBER 2023

(I add the year as if I have plans to continue this every year)

I've never done this before, but I wanted a month of domestic fic prompts. So I decided to make one myself! While I put this list together with the Ghost fandom in mind, it is fully open to all fandoms!

Participate as much or as little as you wish! There are two prompts for each day, and 2 free spaces in the month.

Posting it early to give people time to prep if they so desire.

Accessible list of prompts under the cut:

cooking together | blanket forts

Helping each other with chores | going to a concert/play together

cuddling | Stuck waiting in line together

borrowing clothes | adopting a pet

caring for them when sick | admiring them all dressed up

sharing the bed | staring in adoration

good morning/night kisses | helping them pick an outfit

lazy mornings | comfort during a storm

staycation | a day at the fair

unexpected gifts | kids

playing with their hair | cute habits

grocery shopping | someone set off the smoke alarm

laundry day | someone can't sleep

morning routine | handiwork around the home

FREE DAY | Combine any of the others

spontaneous dancing | cute aggression

Hobbies together | Conversations at 3am

Saying I love you without saying it | Birthdays

Picnics | fun with magic

Forgetting things | movie nights

Nighttime routine | massages

Rainy days | stopping the other from overworking themselves

I got you flowers | finishing each other's sentences

Singing together | couples/family language

Can't stop laughing | pregnancy

Playful teasing | Holidays

Game night | sharing food

Comforting them | outsider perspective of them

Power outage | making up after a fight

Sock skating on the floor | building furniture

Free Day | Combine any of the others

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #Domestic December #Prompts #story prompts #writing prompts #domestic #fluff #domestic prompts #fanfiction #writing #creative writing #inspiration

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helpinghanikan · 4 months

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Domestic December: COD

Day 15: Konig, Sleeping

DD Masterlist

Much like a bear Konig takes up a lot of space and attention when he sleeps. Thick legs and arms that spread out of the bed and grab at you unintentionally. There’s no fighting the hold, not because of his strength, but just from the want from being held.

You’re usually asleep by the time he crawls into bed. The shifting of the bed and large weight getting in wakes you up.

“Sorry,” He whispers, a kiss to your cheek.

It’s hard to stay awake long enough to respond. Sleep is calling you back into it’s arms when Konig settles in. A large chest against your back, arms snaking around your center, and a whole-body squeeze that you both moan at.

In winter Konig is great to have close by. Not warm enough to be a heater but encompassing enough to be a quilt you’d snuggle into. His lips, hidden by a hood in the field, is free to cover your face and neck in little kisses. A makes a pattern while he brings himself to sleep, wanting to remember what this feeling was.

In the summer Konig kinda sucks. Both of you were sweaty as hell, but he still pulls you close and hugs tightly. Even when it’s so warm it’s hard to sleep without a blanket or something over your shoulders. Add in Konig and there’s no chance you were waking up without the pillow stuck to your face.

Once in a blue moon you can stay awake longer than if. And, if you’re really careful, than you and roll over to face him.

Despite the rank of Colonel Konig has a young face. His mouth slightly open as he breathes in and out in his sleep. His lips, which pout without intention, are soft and demand your attention. Something that you gladly give with a kiss.

Like a cursed princess he stirs slightly when you give him that kiss. Although not waking all the way he pulls you closer.

#reader insert #domestic december #x reader #konig cod #konig fluff #konig x reader #Domestic December

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alatushours · 5 months

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☆ TENDER MOMENTS, genshin men — little things they do that never fail to make your heart flutter.

contents. features xiao, albedo, scaramouche & kazuha. established relationships. gender neutral reader. modern au. lots of fluff ! ! kinda crack in scara’s part lol tw. implied insomnia in xiao’s part ♡ word count. 594

notes. hi there, welcome back! thank you for all of the likes on my previous ‘enchanted’ piece, i appreciate it <3 here’s a little drabble with some of my favorite genshin short kings ! ! all of them are 5’3” except xiao WHO IS AN INCH SHORTER :sobs: how could hoyoverse do that to my baby >_< it’s okay xiao will always be taller in my heart 😍

xiao always answers your calls. no matter what time of day it is or what he’s in the middle of doing, he will always pick up the phone.

whenever you facetime him at two in the morning because you can’t sleep, the first thing he says when he accepts the call is, “do you want me to come over?”

before long you’re huddled up in bed with your head against your boyfriend's chest, his tattooed arms snug around your waist. “is this better?” xiao jokes, pulling the blankets tighter around your bare shoulders.

“much better,” you say, burying yourself deeper in the crook of his neck. “i love you.” the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the feeling of his fingers stroking your hair is enough to make your fall fast asleep soon after.

xiao smiles and plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “sweet dreams, my love.”

albedo always takes the time to make you lunch to bring to work in the mornings. your health is his number one priority, and he wants to make sure you always having something healthy and filling to eat.

he’s always been an early riser, so it fits perfectly within his morning routine to pack you lunch. it’ll be something different every day; some days it’s a signature mondstadt salad, and other days it might be an inazuma-style bento box, like the one you said you wanted to try when you saw it at the grocery store with him.

sometimes you’ll wake up and go down to the kitchen to find him in the middle of preparing your lunch; he’ll kiss you good morning as he cuts up apple slices.

when you wake up on your afternoon shift days, you’ll notice the neatly packed container of food sitting on the kitchen counter, along with a bottle of water and a handwritten sticky note on the box’s lid with be sure to eat. i love you. -albedo

scaramouche supports you on all of your social media platforms. as a former internet influencer, he shows his love by helping you grow more popular.

one day, all of scara’s instagram followers were shocked when they saw the “0 following” turn into “1 following.” that one person, was you. not long after that, he posted a new story full of silly pictures of you and him, captioned “i wanna punch them (with my lips).”

scaramouche’s contact name for you is “my idiot 🖤” and though he’ll never admit it, he’s always stealing a glance at his phone to check if you texted him or not.

the moment you type “hi” he’ll respond with “what do you want” 0.000012875 seconds after you sent it. you’re always shocked, “how do you reply so fast ??” and then he leaves you on read 💀

kazuha leaves little notes for you everywhere. in between the pages of your notebook, stuck to the bathroom mirror, on top of your laptop.

the notes are short, but always so sweet; things like “i left a little surprise for you :)” with a handmade gift or a cheesy joke such as “are you the sun? because my whole world revolves around you. ;D”

he’ll always draw adorable little doodles of cats and leaves on the notes, and maybe even write a love poem for you if there’s enough space.

every note always manages to bring a smile to your face; you keep all of his notes in a mini album to carry around with you, so whenever you’re away or feeling sad you can take it out and read his sweet, loving words.

ending notes. and there you have it! this was so much less stressful than enchanted but it still took me a few days to finish it :/ sorry for the late night post but this was very cute and much easier to write, so i hope you enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing ! ! ♡

#໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა mari writes !#happy first day of december ! !#genshin impact #xiao x reader #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #scara x reader #xiao fluff #albedo fluff #kazuha fluff #scara fluff

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reysdriver · 5 months

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James In December

headcanons of post-Hogwarts James in December and around the holidays

warnings: none :)

words: 0.3k

a/n: I literally JUST made one of these for sirius but as i was making that one, I kept thinking of james hcs so here we are

- Just to start with the obvious, he's super into Christmas and the whole month/season tbh

- A rich boy just like Sirius, so he gets into the gift giving aspect of the season

- But he does a lot of more personal gifts and acts of service, even tho he definitely has the money to buy everyone in his life a diamond necklace every day

- Is also the type to get crazy gifts like a whole dog or something

- Gets a new tree every year and absolutely loves the smell of the pine

- Loves how much baked goods he gets to eat around this season, but says that white people thing when he eats christmas cookies/treats like "oh those are dangerous, get those away from me haha"

- Makes a snowman posse in his yard of everyone in his life (him, his friends, his family, even throws in random people. think like a kid making Miis on their nintendo DS)

- He eats snow and icicles all the time, even though everyone tells him it's nasty

- Even tho he's a whole adult, he'll take christmas catalogues and circle everything he wants in them

- Will watch that yule log fireplace channel like it's a whole tv show and then snap out of his trance eventually and realize that he's been watching for an hour straight

- Cannot wrap gifts, he tries and fails every single year

- He'll either use magic to wrap gifts, or just stick things in bags/boxes and hand them out

- Loves christmas carols and all christmas music (even tho he's like the only one)

- Puts up mistletoe, but also one-ups that by carrying one on his person so he can whip it out whenever

- He consumes hot chocolate like it's nobody's business, especially when it's got all the toppings and extras

- James owns multiple ugly christmas sweaters

- And he wants to do matching pyjamas with everyone lol

- He hosts a christmas party for all his friends and family every year

- Is so excited to have a whole family that he can celebrate with

- Once December ends, he starts thinking about how it's gonna go next year

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter headcanon #james potter thoughts #christmas #december #marauders era #marauders fluff #marauders fanfiction #marauders headcanon

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piichuu · 5 months

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♡ WARM BEVERAGES - YUKI SOHMA

WARNINGS: not proofread, fluff, gn!reader

WORD COUNT: 312

DECEMBER DRABBLES

the evening is cold as you’re watching tv in the living room. there is snow falling onto the hard ground outside your shared apartment with yuki sohma and the streets are almost empty as most are staying inside during such cold weather.

“i got you your hot chocolate,” your boyfriend speaks as he enters the living room, placing the cup of beverage on the table in front of you. “you should grab a blanket too, it’s really cold and i don’t want you to get sick,” he kisses the top of your head and flashes you a sweet smile.

you nod in agreement and grab a warm blanket, putting it over both you and yuki who now sits down on the couch, wrapping arm arm around your waist. “what are they showing now?” he asks while resting his head against yours, watching as you grab the cup of hot chocolate and taking a sip of it.

“it’s a cooking show, it was the most interesting thing i could find,” you sigh while holding the warm cup in your hands. “do you want to taste the hot chocolate? why didn’t you make any for yourself?”

yuki shrugs his shoulder and places a kiss to your cheek. “i didn’t really want any, but i can have a sip,” he says, taking the cup out of your hands to put it against his lips, drinking the warm drink.

”it tastes really good. i did a good job,” he chuckles while pulling you closer, handing the cup back to you. “are you feeling warm? i could get even more blankets if you would want,”

you shake your head and lean it on his shoulder, putting the hot chocolate away for a few minutes. “i’m feeling warm, don’t worry,” you smile softly. “okay, that’s good. i just want to make sure you’re okay at all times.”

TAG LIST: @becsmarvel @thisbicc @awkwardaardvarkforever @chilichopsticks @anqelically @gunslxtz @Fictionalthirsting @reiners-milkbiddies

if you want to join the tag list, fill out this form <333

#fruits basket x you #fruits basket x reader #fruits basket fluff #fruits basket #fruits basket x y/n #fruits basket yuki #yuki sohma #yuki sohma x reader #yuki sohma fluff #yuki sohma x you #yuki sohma x y/n #furuba fluff #furuba x reader #furuba #furuba yuki #x reader #december drabbles

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 1 year

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I'll Be Home For Christmas

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, f!reader

Summary: When Jake's plans to come home for Christmas fall through, he promises you he will be there for you next year. But will he be able to keep that promise?

Word Count: 2354

TW: Angst, Fluff, Separated for Christmas, Reunited for Christmas, Happy Ending, Pregnant Reader

Note: Thank you to @heart-0n-fire for looking this over for me!

Written for @notroosterbradshaw's #hello december playlist challenge and based on "I'll Be Home for Christmas" by Andrea Bocelli

Jake continued staring at the phone hanging on the wall before him. He had been standing in the same spot for five minutes now, just trying to gather the strength to make the call. It had been almost a month since they had been given phone privileges and as much as Jake longed to hear your voice, he didn’t know what he was supposed to say to you.

“She’ll understand.”

The voice shook Jake from his thoughts. Turning around, he noticed Rooster standing behind him, a small smile on his face. Normally, Jake would have snapped a witty comeback at him, but he just didn’t have it in him at the moment. Instead, he sighed and rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know she will. And that almost makes it worse.”

Rooster chuckled softly. “Yeah, it kinda does, doesn’t it? But it won’t be forever, Jake. I’ll make sure of it.” He clasped Jake on the shoulder. “I got your back.”

Jake smiled, thinking about how far their relationship had come since the Dagger Mission a few months ago and how the thought of flying with Rooster as his wingman would have irritated him before then. “Thanks, man. And you know I’d have yours…. If you could ever catch up.”

The two men laughed as Rooster shook his head. “Yeah, whatever, Hangman. Go call your girl.” Then he walked away, leaving Jake to stare once more at the phone.

Taking a deep breath, he grabbed it and quickly dialed before he lost his nerve. You picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

“Hey, baby. It’s me.”

“Jake! Oh my god, hi! It feels like forever since I actually got to speak to you. How are you?” Jake could practically see you vibrating with joy on the other end of the line.

“I’m– I’m good. Hangin’ in there. Missing you like crazy though. How are you?”

“I’m okay. I just miss you so much. But I have everything all planned for you to get here in a few days! I just bought stuff to make those cookies you love, and I thought we could roast a turkey for Christmas dinner, and it looks like we’ll have snow on Christmas Day this year! An actual white Christmas, can you believe it? We haven’t had one of those in–”

Jake groaned as he leaned his head heavily against the wall. You were so happy and excited about all the plans you had made. How was he supposed to destroy that? What was he even supposed to say?

It turned out, he didn’t have to say anything. You knew him too well and you figured it out on your own. “You’re… you’re not coming home, are you?” you asked softly.

“No, baby, I’m not. I just found out about an hour ago. They need the squad to ship out for the next mission immediately.”

“Well… that’s okay. I can just leave the tree up and we can make it a joint Christmas/New Year’s celebration!” Though you were trying to sound upbeat, Jake could hear the disappointment in your voice and that just made what he needed to say next all the more difficult.

“That’s the thing. They don’t know how long we’ll be gone but it’ll probably be a few weeks at least, if not longer. I’m so sorry. I know I told you I’d be home for Christmas but–”

“It’s okay, Jake. It’s not your fault and I know you’d be here if you could. Besides, you spelled out exactly what this life would look like when we started dating and I agreed to it. We’re never guaranteed Christmas, your leave just happened to fall near it this year. So, it is what it is. If you can’t come home, you can’t come home.”

Jake squeezed his eyes shut tightly. “God, I want to be there, you don’t even know how badly. It sounded like you had such an amazing time planned for us, and now… I hate the thought of you being alone for Christmas. It’s not right.”

“I’ll be fine. I mean, I’m just a little disappointed, but not at all with you. This was going to be our first Christmas together since you proposed and it sort of felt like the first one for the new family we’re building. I was hoping we could maybe start some traditions that we could do every year, but maybe we just need to accept that this– us being apart for the holidays – might have to be our tradition.”

Jake’s head shot up and he gripped the phone tighter. In a firm, clear voice, he said, “No, I refuse to accept that. This will not be a tradition. I swear, baby, next year I’ll be home for Christmas. No matter what I have to do, I will not miss the first Christmas with my wife.”

“You need to make it back here and marry me first. So over everything else, please be careful. That’s all I need from you this Christmas. Don’t make me a widow before you make me a wife, Jake. Okay? Just come home. I don’t care how long it takes. Your presents will still be by the tree when you get back. And so will I.” Despite how strong you were trying to be about this situation, Jake could hear the tears in your voice.

Choking back his own tears, Jake murmured, “Thanks for understanding. I’ll make it up to you when I get home. Anything you want, just say the word.”

“I want you. That’s all I ever want,” you said. “But you tell them they better not do this again in May. Weddings aren’t cheap and that shit’s non-refundable.”

Jake chuckled. “I’ll tell Mav you said that. Word for word.”

“Good. And add that if he makes you late, I’m retracting his invitation.”

“I’ll make sure he knows.” Jake was just about to say something else when Hondo walked in and caught Jake’s eye. The Chief Warrant Officer sadly tapped on his wrist and motioned for Jake to hurry up. Taking a deep breath, Jake said into the phone, “Baby, they’re telling me I have to go. But I’ll call or email you as soon as I can. Hopefully I can at least manage that on Christmas day.”

“Okay. Just whenever you can, I’ll be here. I love you, Jake. So, so much.”

“I love you too, baby. And I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. Just…dream of me,” you whispered.

“I always do,” Jake whispered back just before the line was disconnected.

Jake’s Uber pulled up in front of his house at 11:53 pm on Christmas Eve. He had cut it a lot closer than he had hoped, but he had made it. Despite all the odds, he had kept the promise he made to you the Christmas before and he was home for Christmas.

He smiled at the inflatable Santa and his reindeer placed in the front yard along with a handful of lights. It was a cute if somewhat quaint display especially compared to the neighbors, but Jake loved that you put in the effort. Especially considering you were alone and were having a harder time moving around lately. Jake took one more look at it before unlocking the front door.

But as it swung open, Jake gasped and his jaw dropped. You had promised you were going to make up for him missing Christmas last year, but based on the display outside, he never expected the sight that greeted him. Strings of lights and garland stretched along both walls of the hallway and paper snowflakes hung down from the ceiling. Ornaments were scattered here and there, and Jake noticed many of them were photo ornaments with pictures of the two of you, including some from your wedding.

If the hallway took his breath away, it was nothing compared to what he found as he stumbled into the living room. While the normal lights were off, the room was aglow with tiny colorful lights draped across the mantle of the fireplace and encircling the massive Christmas tree with the huge pile of presents in the corner of the room. The live Christmas tree. The kind that would turn brown and die if he didn’t make it home in time. But he had sworn he would make it home, and you had believed him.

However, none of it mattered once his eyes settled on the figure slumped on the couch. You were fast asleep on the far end, 'Twas the Night Before Christmas hanging limply from one hand while your other hand rested on your protruding stomach. Jake hadn’t seen you in person for the last three months and it appeared that there was a bigger difference between four months pregnant and seven months pregnant than he had expected. He knew he had missed out on a lot– doctor’s appointments, ultrasounds, morning sickness –but seeing tangible evidence of it all almost brought him to his knees. He should have been here for all of it, but it was yet another time you had to carry on alone while he was gone. But not anymore.

Walking over to the couch, he carefully slipped the book from your hand and placed it on the nearby end table. It was only then that he noticed the plate of his favorite cookies and a glass of milk that had been left out along with a note. Glancing at it, he read: Dear Santa, All I want for Christmas is for my daddy to come home safely. Thank you, The Seresin girls. It looked like Santa had worked his magic after all.

Kneeling down next to the couch, Jake gently placed his hand on your stomach. Leaning over, he pressed his lips to your bump before whispering, “Hey there, jelly bean. I made it. Have you been behavin’ and keepin’ your mama company while I was gone?” Jake felt a small flutter of movement beneath his hand and he grinned. “That’s my girl.”

Giving your stomach one last rub, he stood up and leaned over you as you continued to sleep. Tipping your chin back, he pressed his lips to yours. For a moment, you moaned and started to pull away. But then, you must have recognized him even in your dreams because you leaned into his kiss and returned it.

When Jake pulled away, your eyes slowly opened and it took you a moment to grasp what you were seeing in front of you. But when you did, your lip began to quiver as you reached out your hand to cup his face. “J-Jake? Are you really here?”

Jake chuckled deep in his throat as he leaned into your hand. “What kind of question is that?”

“I mean, I’m not still dreaming, am I?”

“No, baby. I’m really here.”

Tears streaming down your face, you threw your arms around his neck as you choked out, “Oh God! I didn’t think you were going to make it.”

Jake buried his face into your hair, breathing in deeply. “I promised you last year I wouldn’t miss this.” He ran his hand over your stomach. “Especially now. Our first Christmas with our new family.”

You sobbed into his neck. “I know, but I still… I wasn’t sure. I hoped though.”

The two of you held each other for a long time. Then in a soft, fearful whisper, you asked, “How long can you stay?”

Jake sat back and wiped the tears from your face. “We’ll talk about that later. Right now, let me just look at you.”

“Ugh, no. I’m a whale.” You tried to cover your stomach with a nearby blanket, but Jake stopped you.

Taking your hand and placing it over your stomach, he said, “You’ve never looked more beautiful.”

You bit your lip and glanced away. But then your smile slipped as you asked again, “How long, Jake? I have to know.”

Glancing at his watch, Jake sighed. “Well, it is now 12:08 Christmas morning, so I guess I can give you your gift now.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a letter and handed it to you. Warily, you took it from him and opened it. Squinting in the dim light from the decorations, you read what it said, your lips silently mouthing the words as you went along. Jake grinned as your eyes grew wide and you stared up at him in disbelief. “Is this– is this real?”

“Yep. Maverick got them to transfer me off the Dagger Squad for one year. Instead, I’ll be working in recruitment here at the base in town. So I’ll be here for all of it. The rest of your pregnancy, her birth, all those first milestones. I know it doesn’t make up for the time we lost but I thought—”

He was cut off as you once again threw your arms around his neck, sobbing harder than before. “J-ake, you didn’t have to– but what about the Squad? You love flying with them.”

“I do, and I’ll miss it. But I love you, both of you, more. And Mav said I can come back after a year if I want. He already cleared it with Cyclone.” Jake squeezed you tighter against his chest. “I’ve already missed so much. I don’t want to miss a second of our daughter’s life or being here to help you raise her.”

“Wow…” you hiccupped through your tears. “You really made up for last year.”

“I’m glad you think so.” Jake laughed. Then he took your face and kissed you, deeply and lovingly. It was the kindt of kiss that said all the things you could never put into words. The kind of kiss that only happened between two people who loved each other fully and completely. The kind of kiss he hoped to give you every day from now on.

And when you broke apart, Jake gazed into your puffy, tear-stained eyes and promised, “This is our new tradition. From now on, I’ll be home for Christmas. You can count on me.”

Taglist: @valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter , @sugarcoated-lame, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996, @kkrenae

#hello december playlist challenge #fic #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman x reader #glen powell #f!reader #fluff #angst #christmas #happy ending #pregnant reader

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jkkyks · 4 months

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Will always thank tchaga for feeding us new Kylian pics😪🤌🏼.

Kylian’s national day♥️🤴🏽20/12/23

#birthday boy #kylian #jkkyks #kylian mbappe #tchaga #mbappé #kyky #kyks #mbappe icons #psg #france #kylian mbappe lottin #mbappe #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe imagines #mbappe updates #December

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anamelessfool · 4 months

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Ribbons & Ties (AO3 Link)

GEN, M/M

Terzo x Omega, Terzo & Family, Cardinal Marian is in there for like ten minutes

Tags: Domestic Fluff, Commitment, Rom Com Energy, There's a Wedding, Secondo is Papa Emeritus, Gift Giving, I can't have Fluff without some Angst sorry

For reasons beyond Terzo's understanding, he wants to give Omega a present for the ghoul's "birthday". It proves to be a lot more complicated than Terzo realizes.

Art by @kabukiaku used with permission

Chapter 1 Below the Cut! (We like Reblogs, Comments and Kudos omnomnom)

2006

I was an impossible case. No-one ever could reach me... But I think I can see in your face there's a lot you can teach me...So I wanna know what's the name of the game?

Papa Elect Terzo tried to look busy. He attempted a regal sigh, a pace. Killed time with what he hoped was a thoughtful, intelligent stare out his office window. He did everything possible to bide time while he collected his thoughts in a way that would hide his true intentions.

This was all about Omega.

He had called Cardinal Marian, Sister Imperator’s Personal Assistant not due to any sort of friendship or confidence. His brother Papa Emeritus Secondo barely considered him as human these days and with his wedding a week away he had bigger things to fuss about.

Terzo’s other two ghouls Earth and Alpha could not be trusted to answer honestly. And Brother Copia was, well…Copia.

So then that left Marian.

She was obligated by her job description to interact with him as he needed. For business purposes, of course.

And buying the right birthday present for Omega Ghoul was definitely a high stakes business venture as far as Papa Elect Terzo was concerned.

“Thank you for your time,” Terzo said, pressing his hands together and slightly bowing.

“Hey, anything to give me a break from planning my ex-partners’ wedding,” she replied with an indifferent shrug, although her eyes looked bleary. “How yinz doing on musical entertainment for that, by the way?”

“I have a few choir selections, and I have been working with Papa’s ghouls and my own on some light entertainment during the dinner. Copia has been fussing with finding the right wedding march on the organ for about six weeks now.” And Terzo had been locking his office doors to keep Copia from talking his ear off about it for about six weeks as well. “So…all coming together.”

“Great. Want to be perfect. For them.” She didn't sound too enthused. "But don't worry, I'm completely fine about it." Marian froze, then patted her sides. “Mind if I smoke?”

“Please don't, it gets into the curtains,” said Terzo.

Marian slumped in her chair slightly. “Ok, now you have to tell me the real reason I’m here.”

Terzo closed his eyes and collected himself. “I need some help picking out a gift. For a friend. I'm having trouble,” he said.

“Don’t you give people shit all the time? Flowers, erotic notes, pornographic photography, whatever…” Marian raised an eyebrow. “People talk. In the Dining Hall. A lot.”

Terzo winced and then gave her a defeated shrug. “This is em…different.”

At that Marian’s face immediately switched into a wicked grin. She leaned forward on his desk, hand on her chin with such force her biretta hat went crooked. “Why? Why is it different, huh?”

“Because…” And then Terzo threw her a haughty scowl. “I don’t need to tell you. You work for me, sorella. This is a business meeting. A consulation.”

“Fine, suit yourself.” She glanced at the clock. “But If I’m your employee you’ve got like ten minutes to spit it out before I leave for the day. So…what is it?”

“Omega…is an important friend to me. I want a gift that is…worthy of him.” Terzo started to pace again. “Something that is special, but ghouls are difficult to shop for! They don’t need to eat, or drink. Omega doesn’t seem to want to visit anywhere or do anything beyond whatever I want to do…”

“Well, isn’t he…basically you?”

“Yes but also, no.”

“And you’re psychically linked, right?” Marian thoughtlessly played with her pen, clicking it idly. “So, even if you wanted it to be a surprise, he’d already sort of know about it.”

“Cazzo, you see now why this would be so difficult?!”

Marian shrugged. “It’s the thought that counts, at the end of the day.”

“I know that,” Terzo snapped. It was definitely the thought that counted.

Except, he had never truly sincerely thought about someone else when giving a gift before. And that is what made his hands clammy and his mind race.

Terzo decided he needed to gift something really important. Something that reflected how much his heart pounded when Omega held him. Something that was big, essential, eternal. Just like his ghoul.

“A…a diamond! Yes.”

Marian smirked. “A diamond? For your very best friend?”

“Yes…” Terzo began weakly, but then remembered Marian's status as his minion. He frowned into her. “Yes, a diamond.”

“Whatever,” she replied, then opened her steno pad. “Although you know purchases over a certain amount I got to run through Treasury Director Brother Copia.”

“Then forget the diamond,” Terzo backpedaled.

Marian checked the clock on the wall again and snapped her notepad shut. “Ok, fine I've dated quite a few guitarists over the years and they like practical stuff. Like, for their instrument. How about um…a guitar strap, huh?”

“How about a guitar strap?” suggested Terzo.

Marian frowned. “What's his favorite color?”

“Erm—black.”

“Second favorite color?” Marian sighed.

“Violet, he likes violet!”

“Violet and black guitar strap, coming right up,” Marian intoned. “And look, you got ninety more seconds until I go home, is there anything else you need, your Eminence?”

“No, that would be all.” Terzo returned to staring out the window with an extra dramatic flourish of his black cardinal cassock. He took a breath, feeling his nerves start to settle as he heard the squeak of Cardinal Marian's chair as she exited. All of a sudden he had a thought. "Oh, and Marian?"

"Twenty seconds left, your Eminence." Marian's hand was already on the doorknob.

"You're certain he'll like that?"

Marian's brow furrowed, but then it seemed like a thought passed through her, and her expression softened. "Of course," she said, "Who wouldn't like a gift?"

My AO3 | Tumblr Fic List | My Terzo/Omega Fics

Chapter 2 here

#ghost fandom #the band ghost #ghost scenes from the void #terzomega #domestic december #fluff fic #papa emeritus iii #omega ghoul #ghost band fic #terzo x omega

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aparticularbandit · 4 months

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Making Cookies

Summary: Peeta tells Katniss he needs to talk, but they end up baking instead.

Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mallark

Rating: T.

AO3

“We should talk.”

Peeta’s stern, more stern than normal, but it’s better than the stilted formality that’s grown between us ever since the games.

But I don’t want to talk to Peeta. I don’t know how to talk to Peeta anymore, if I ever did to begin with. It doesn’t seem fair to keep up the ruse he’d created, and there’s no way to return to what we’d been before. We hadn’t been anything before. Just the boy with the bread and the girl he’d saved, a tentative past connection that meant everything and nothing.

But it isn’t just Peeta. It’s impossible to return to anything the way it was before the games. Other than Haymitch, he’s the only one who understands that.

Maybe that’s what makes this so hard.

I give him a silent nod. It isn’t as though much else fills my days, and it isn’t though I have any excuse not to meet with him, other than simply not wanting to do so. My eyes shift about me, taking in the empty houses around us, my own barely used with my mother and Prim, and Haymitch’s. Sometimes, I envy his loneliness. I do not envy his nightmares; I have my own.

“When?”

Peeta’s house smells strongly of bread. It’s the same way he smells, but stronger; in the Capitol, during the games, that smell was gone, replaced with their fancy oils and powders then with dirt and blood. By the end, he smelled like one of the rabbits Gale traps in the woods. They have more time to be afraid.

Even now, away from the bakery, Peeta’s house smells like bread. He bakes the way I hunt, to keep his mind off of everything else. But no matter how much we try to go back, we can’t. There will always be a difference between us and everyone else. A different kind of surviving. The scent is even stronger inside the house, overwhelming flour mixed with the sweeter scent of sugar and the sharp alcoholic tang of yeast.

I find him waiting for me in the kitchen, apron tied about his waist, flour decorating his hair like snow that doesn’t melt. “You wanted to talk?”

“Mm. Hold on. I’m almost done.” Peeta pushes his hair back with one hand, leaving a trail of flour behind. Then he sets his newest loaf on a tray, sticks it into the oven where it will be seared with fire, and leaves it be. He offers me a smile. “Needed a break.”

“I know.” I sit on the stool across from him. “You’ve got flour—”

“Everywhere. I know.” Peeta chuckles. It’s a real laugh, even though it isn’t much, and the smile he wears when he makes it feels normal. Like the way he’s supposed to be. He lifts his apron and rubs his face with it. “Better?”

Now there’s just as much flour on his face as there is on the counter. “No,” I say. “Worse.”

“Huh.” Peeta looks confused. He stares at his apron. “That was supposed to help.” He sighs and looks up at me. “Well, I guess we’re just going to have to make you match.”

I barely get my mouth open before Peeta throws a spray of flour at me. It coats my face, thick like the powder they force me to wear in the Capitol, and my mouth drops open as a little cloud puffs around me. I reach over and push him. “Hey!”

Peeta stands back, out of the way, and he smiles like he does when he’s happy, not the fake sort of thing he wears when we need to pretend for our safety. “Now you don’t have an excuse.”

“An excuse?”

“Everything’s been so tense lately,” Peeta says, placing his hands flat on the flour-covered counter. His smile fades as he looks down at them. “You can’t teach me how to hunt, but I thought….” He glances up and searches my eyes. “I thought I could teach you to bake. Something simple.” He pulls a few shaped cutters from a nearby tray. “Like cookies?”

I don’t want to stay here. I don’t want to learn how to bake from Peeta, almost as much as I don’t want to teach him how to hunt. Our lives are already so hopelessly entangled that this only makes everything more confusing. It would be easier to not, easier to go back to my house and wash everything off.

But Prim will ask. I can ignore my mother, but I can’t ignore Prim.

So I scowl and nod. “Fine.” I nod at the shapes. “But only if we make one that looks like Haymitch.”

Peeta pulls out another cutter, one that looks like a wine bottle. I don’t ask why he has one that shape or who would ever want a bottle-shaped cookie. He offers me a smile. “Drinks and all.”

I don’t smile. “Drinks and all.”

Peeta convinces me to make another batch while we wait for the first one to cook, and while we wait for the first batch to cool enough to decorate – I tell him I won’t be good at it, but he won’t let me leave the decorations up to him – he slices the freshly cooled loaf of bread, slathers it with butter, and hands it to me. I try to tell him I’m not hungry, but he won’t listen. Despite this, I take the slice and take a bite.

The bread melts in my mouth. It’s sweet from the butter, a luxury that we have more than enough of now but that still feels like a luxury. I scarf the rest of the slice down but don’t ask for another. He smiles, assuring me that he’ll send the rest home with me. Peeta gives us fresh bread and cookies every day, but it’s still – it’s another luxury. One we don’t deserve.

It’s while decorating the body-shaped cookies that it happens.

My attempts at recreating Effie with her bright pink hair look nothing like her, just a puff of pink covering the whole of what should be her head. I scowl at her and grab for another one of Peeta’s intricate decorating tools. I want to scrape away all of the icing I’ve already laid, but that would be a waste. Even something as simple as this, I can’t waste food.

I glance over at the cookie Peeta is decorating and stop.

The cookie, burnt a little from something beyond our control, has a much darker color than the other golden cookies we’ve been decorating. This one, Peeta’s decorated to be a girl instead of a boy, and she looks the spitting image of Rue.

My breath catches in my throat. “Peeta?”

Peeta doesn’t look up. He stares at the cookie, continuing to decorate it – continuing to recreate her – as though it’s the only thing in the world. “I won’t eat her,” he says.

I hadn’t even thought about that. Eating Rue – biting off her legs, her arms, her head – the idea of it makes me sick to my stomach in a way that eating a fake Haymitch didn’t. I remember her in those last moments, after she was dead, after I’d surrounded her with flowers, after I sang for her, for an audience I didn’t see and didn’t care about – and still don’t care about, although their investment saved the both of us together – and I stumble backwards. “What are you doing?”

When Peeta finishes, he holds the cookie gentle in his hands. “This is the only way I can save them.”

It’s a horrible explanation, and it doesn’t make any sense. “You aren’t saving anyone—“

But Peeta lifts the carefully decorated Rue cookie. He takes her to the freezer and sets her inside, where other cookies decorated like each of the other tributes – even Cato, who’d attacked him, who’d been left with us at the last; even Marvel, who’d killed Rue and who I’d—

“You made all of them,” I say, trying not to feel sick. “All of them.”

“This is the only way I can save them,” Peeta repeats. He sets Rue inside with the rest of them and then shuts the freezer door. “I know it’s a waste, but—”

I wrap my arms around him the way I need someone to hold me during my nightmares. “It’s not a waste.” I stare at the closed freezer. “It’s an honor.”

I don’t tell him that I saw myself in the freezer, too, or that I’d noticed how there wasn’t a cookie of him.

While Peeta is visiting with his family later, I sneak into his house. It isn’t hard. He doesn’t lock his door. I don’t think I would either, if my mother and Prim didn’t live in my house. Whatever I have can be stolen; it’ll just be replaced later, and I don’t need any of it, don’t want any of it.

Streaks of flour coat my face like claw marks.

I open the freezer and gently place another tribute inside. The Peeta I’ve made isn’t beautiful, like the cookies he’s decorated. It’s misshapen, and one of its legs has a lump in it. I’m not good at baking. Prim won’t even eat the other cookies I’ve made.

But this one wasn’t about baking. It was about this, setting a Peeta to be protected, to be saved, with all of the others he’s made.

A few days later, Peeta meets my eyes and gives me a nod. That’s how I’ve known he’s seen it.

For once, in all of this, I feel warm.

#bandit fic #december banditnanza 2023 fic #the hunger games #thg #katniss everdeen #peeta mallark #everlark #katniss x peeta #katniss everdeen x peeta mallark #peeta mallark x katniss #peeta x katniss #one of you prompted this and here you go #i'm sorry i was going to write fluff and then this happened #because i was using catching fire as my base for trying to get voices right #and like #here you go sorry not sorry

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fckinwild-kiwi · 5 months

Text

Dec. 11th: You're Not My Girlfriend

Day 11: Playing with their hair/Cute habits

We’ve made it to day eleven of @comp-lady’s Domestic December writing challenge!

Warnings: Maybe Swearing (This is an 18+ blog, minors dni) Word Counts: 1.1k+ Words Pairings: Eddie Munson x Reader

Eddie was very protective of his hair. It was one of the first things you noticed when you became friends. While Steve spent time styling his luscious locks, Eddie spent his time finding ways to keep his hair naturally healthy and that meant that nobody was allowed to put their oily fingers in his hair. “It will fuck with my natural pH,” He once said after smacking Gareth, who tried to give him noogie. Ever since then, everyone stayed away from the hair, fearing Eddie’s wrath.

During movie nights with the group, even before you two started dating, Eddie would run his fingers through your hair, slightly massaging your scalp as he did so. It was comforting and made your heart just sizzle and burn with affection. You quickly noticed that Eddie would do this whenever he wanted to express affection and be close when actual closeness was inappropriate. For instance, during a group dinner with Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, and Steve. Eddie, with his arm around your chair, would bring his hand up to run his fingers through your hair, running his fingers through the strands before dragging his fingertips across your scalp. You leaned in to this behavior. Eddie’s love language was physical touch and it was his way of reminding you, ‘Hey, I’m here and I love you.’

The fact that your love language was words of affirmation sometimes threw him off and the conversation about it was frequent. “Do you still love me?” He randomly questioned as you both played on your parents couch, Macy asleep on the floor. You were so confused, how could this boy possibly think your feelings for him have dwindled even slightly?

“Of course I still love you, probably more today than I did yesterday,” You said, reassuring the poor boy as you grabbed his hand. From that moment on, you made it your mission to express your love with physical affection so he would never question the love you had for him.

The first time you purposefully used affection to reassure your boyfriend, you were eating dinner with your Mom, Macy, and your grandparents. Though they knew who Eddie was, they weren’t the most thrilled by your relationship upgrade. “What do you plan to do after you graduate this year then, Eddie?” Your grandpa probed.

Eddie tensed up beside you but before he could respond, Macy interrupted. “Eddie is a rockstar, Papa!”

“How do you expected to do anything with that kind of career, will you be able to financially support a family?” Your grandpa continued asking.

“Grandpa!” You scolded, shooting glares across the table.

“No, it’s okay, babe,” Eddie reassured you before continuing. “I love to think I’m the rockstar that Macy thinks I am but while I wait for those dreams to take off, I got a job working at the record store on Main Street.”

“And we are so proud of you,” Your mom said, smiling at Eddie from across the table. Noticing Eddie’s tight smile, you reached up, placing your hand on the back of his neck before giving him a slight squeeze. Keeping your hand there, you began lightly running your fingers along his nape. Eddie quickly relaxed, looking at you with a soft expression.

“The crazy thing, Grandpa,” You started, continuing the soft touch to Eddie’s neck. “Is that I will support Eddie in any endeavor he wants to do as long as he’s happy and passionate about it. If he becomes the next Ozzy, I’ll be at his show, side-stage, cheering him on. If he decides that he doesn’t want to be a rocker and instead he wants teach music, I’ll be at every recital or performance cheering on the best teacher there is. That’s what it means to support your partner.” You sighed, before looking at Eddie who, in returning his love language with yours, mumbled out a soft, “I love you.”

The next time, Eddie noticed your increased physical touch was during his graduation ceremony. Though it was Eddie’s third time as a senior, it was perfect as you two graduated together. As you sat next to each other on the chairs in the stuffy gymnasium, Jason approached the two of you. “Third time really is a charm, huh, Munson.”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Jason,” Eddie grumbled out. Noticing his normally bubbly personality begin to shrivel into the person that only Jason seemed to change him into, you grabbed his hand before wrapping your other hand around his arm. Finding comfort in your touch, Eddie took a deep breath before responding again, “Enjoy your day, Jason.”

“That was impressive,” You mumbled out, pressing a quick kiss to Eddie’s neck.

With a shudder, his hand found yours on his arm before he squeezed it. Eddie said, ”You made me feel stronger.”

“I’m always here to help you when you need it, Eds,” You whispered. “Let’s go find our families.”

And today, the rest of the party noticed too. Everyone was hanging out at Steve’s house for their weekly movie night. The couches and recliner full of bodies, you and Eddie opted to lay on the floor with you sitting up right, leaning against the side of couch, and Eddie with his head in your lap.

“I’m just saying that I think ‘Halloween’ is probably the best slasher movie ever,” Dustin said, shrugging.

“No way, ‘The Hills Have Eyes’ scared me for months,” Lucas argued. “It’s definitely better.”

“You’re missing Dustin’s point, Sinclair,” Eddie laughed out. “‘The Hills Have Eyes’ is scary but what makes ‘Halloween’ better is how diabolical Michael Myers is with his slow speed.”

“Exactly!” Dustin shouted. You laughed at their childish argument before running your fingers through Eddie’s hair, your fingers massaging his scalp with a practiced touch.

“What are you doing,” Gareth gaped.

“Hm?” You questioned, your fingers continuing their movements. “What do you mean?”

“You’re touching Eddie’s hair,” Gareth said, loudly with fear in his eyes. Eddie, who had fallen under the trance of your fingers popped up at the mention of his name.

“I did not know that was against the rules,” I said, glancing down at Eddie before looking at the rest of the group, who all decided to stop their discussion and look at you two.

“It’s not against the rules for you, baby,” Eddie said, grabbing your hand and putting it back into his hair. “It’s against the rules for those assholes who liked to fuck with me.”

“Hey!” Gareth argued. “You quite literally punched me in the shoulder last time I even came new your hair.”

“Yeah, and you’re not my girlfriend,” Eddie retorted. “Besides, when she does it, it feels like love and comfort. I’m not worried about what she might be doing or a punchline she might be making.”

Eddie loved physical touch and the innocent touches that you could provide, whether that was rubbing his back or massaging his scalp, provided him with the sense of safety and comfort. And you were more than willing and happy to provide that.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson Fluff #Eddie Munson x Reader fluff #Stranger Things #Stranger Things AU #Stranger Things FLuff #fckinwild kiwi #fckinwild kiwi writing #comp lady domestic december #domestic december

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