#hallmark holiday specials
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This is my absolute favorite post on [tumblr]
i realized this was also lost in the fall of the CH website so
since it’s That Time of Year again, i’m just gonna bring back my Every Christmas TV Rom-Com comic
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How I (someone with social anxiety) manage to survive large family gatherings with my fiancé’s (very nice) extended family is to pretend I am Business Man from Hallmark Movie that doesn’t have a backstory and only knows business but in a cute awkward way.
The only downside so far is that I think his family knows that I am incredibly on edge the entire time I don’t know most of their names and I have almost no connect to them but hey at least I’m getting sentences out and I’m not just hiding in the bedroom avoiding all human interaction
#I should mention I have a great relationship with my family so once again idk where hallmark businessman charicarure came from#I don’t even watch hallmark movies#none of this makes sense#like if you think about it#thankfully it’s only for thanksgiving (a holiday I don’t care about)#now if I ever have to do christmas with his family I think I’ll actually lose my mind because I love Christmas and don’t want to have to#be managing my idiosyncrasies on one of my favorite holidays#the 'followers only' special
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Everything's Ruined
Christmas Special 🎄
Hanni x Male Reader
word count: 10K
The room glows with the warm, soft buzz of Christmas lights tangled messily over the mantle and around the windows. Music hums in the background—a lazy mix of holiday classics and some throwback pop songs someone thought was ironic. You’re sunk deep into the couch, a heavy glass of whiskey and eggnog dangling loose in your hand. It’s late, the party is only half over, but everyone is already wasted, even though they're just chilling now; a handful of half-drunk bodies lounging, half-assedly debating the virtues of Die Hard as a Christmas movie.
Then there’s Hanni.
She’s curled up next to you, except "curled" isn’t right. She’s draped—like she forgot personal space was a thing about three drinks ago. Her dark hair tumbles over her face as she tips her head back in a laugh that’s way too loud for whatever dumb joke someone just made. Her cheeks are flushed, probably from the wine she’s been inhaling all night, and when she looks at you, her eyes are glassy and warm, like you’re the most hilarious person alive just for existing.
Thing is, Hanni’s your best friend—the one person you're not supposed to have these feelings for, but with the alcohol in your system and the way she’s leaning into you now, all flushed cheeks and that stupid, glassy smile, it’s getting real fucking hard to remember why.
“God, you’re so fuckin' cute,” she slurs, and you blink. She doesn’t seem to notice, just scoots closer, swinging her legs over your lap like she’s staking territory. “You’re my favorite, you know that?”
You snort. “You tell me that every time you’re wasted, Hanni. Get some new material.”
She pouts, sticking out her lip in this over-the-top cartoon way that somehow makes you grin like an idiot. Her weight settles heavier against you, and yeah, you’re feeling that whiskey warmth in your veins too. Her hand wanders—innocently enough at first—over your shoulder, across your chest, then down to rest right at the edge of dangerous territory.
“I’m serious this time, though!” She pokes your chest like she’s trying to prove a point. “You’re the only person who gets me, y’know? Like…fuck, dude, if you weren’t my best friend, I’d probably marry you.”
That pulls a laugh out of you, sharp and incredulous. “Wow, what an honor. Thanks for the consolation prize.”
Hanni leans forward, her face inches from yours now, her breath sweet with wine and whatever sugary cocktail she’s been nursing all night. “I mean it, asshole. You’re like…everything.” Her voice drops, softer now, and she smirks, but it’s the kind of smirk that’s all affection and none of the usual bite. “You’re my fucking rock.”
You feel something twist low in your gut. “Shit, Hanni, who knew wine turned you into a Hallmark card?” you say, trying to keep it light.
She bursts into giggles, doubling over, her face pressed to your chest. Her ass shifts on your lap, and you freeze for a second because—fuck—her skirt’s hiked up just enough for you to feel the heat of her through the thin fabric. Hanni doesn’t notice, or maybe she doesn’t care, because she’s too busy tracing lazy patterns over your stomach now, her touch just shy of intimate.
“Y’know what sucks?” she mumbles, tilting her head up to look at you, her hair sticking to her damp forehead. “You’re too good for me. Like, no joke, you should be with someone hot, not stuck babysitting my drunk ass.”
You raise an eyebrow, trying not to focus on the way her thighs are pressing into yours or the flash of bare skin where her sweater’s ridden up. “Who says I’m stuck? Maybe I like babysitting your drunk ass.”
Her face softens in this way that makes your chest feel too tight. She shifts again, pressing closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear when she whispers, “That’s why I love you.”
It’s teasing, almost playful, but there’s something heavier underneath, something that makes your pulse spike. You’re about to say something—maybe a joke, maybe something stupidly earnest—but then someone across the room yells out, “Alright, last call for shots!”
Hanni perks up immediately, her attention snapping away from you. “Hell yeah! Let’s fucking go!” she yells, hopping up so fast you almost spill your drink.
As she stumbles off, you exhale, leaning back into the couch, trying to will away the heat simmering low in your stomach. It’s just Hanni, you remind yourself. She gets like this when she’s drunk—touchy, emotional, saying all kinds of shit she won’t even remember tomorrow. But fuck, if she isn’t beautiful, with her tiny frame and those absurdly thick thighs that make no goddamn sense on someone her size.
You shake your head, draining the rest of your drink.
—
What began as a quiet night spirals into that perfect mess of booze and laughter, the kind of chaos that only happens when no one’s watching the clock or counting drinks. Someone’s wearing a Santa hat and nothing else but a pair of boxers. Someone else decided the fake Christmas tree would make a great dance partner, and now half the ornaments are shattered on the floor. You and Hanni are still on the couch, her body leaning heavily against yours as you both wheeze-laugh at something dumb on the TV—a claymation Rudolph looking suspiciously baked out of his red-nosed mind.
At some point, Hanni grabs the half-empty bottle of wine from the coffee table and lifts it in a mock toast. “To you, bestie,” she slurs, words spilling out like syrup. “The only motherfucker who didn’t ditch me when I got kicked outta karaoke night last month.”
You roll your eyes, reaching to take the bottle from her before she spills it. “You got kicked out because you tried to sing ‘WAP’ like it was a gospel hymn, Hanni.”
“It was art, you heathen,” she shoots back, but her pout barely lasts before her face splits into a grin. “But seriously. You’re the real MVP.”
“You’re so full of shit,” you say, laughing as you set the bottle safely aside. “But thanks, I guess.”
Time keeps sliding, blurring at the edges. Someone takes an Uber home. Someone else starts snoring under the coffee table. By the time you look around again, the room’s mostly empty. It’s just you, Hanni, and the sound of some low-budget Christmas movie droning in the background. Hanni’s slumped sideways against you, her head resting on your shoulder. Her breath is soft, wine-sweet and warm, and when you shift slightly, she groans.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” she mumbles, voice thick with the haze of too much alcohol. Her hand tightens on your arm like a sleepy cat staking its claim.
“Nah, I’m good,” you say, but the sight of her like this—soft and unguarded—makes something in your chest clench. “You, on the other hand, can’t even sit up straight. You’re not going anywhere.”
She blinks up at you, her eyes unfocused but shining, like she’s trying to process your words. “So what? I just crash here?”
“No,” you say, patting her leg. “My place is closer, and I don’t trust you not to wander into traffic if I send you home.”
She snorts, the sound loud and ungraceful. “Aw, look at you, being all responsible and shit. You’re such a dad sometimes.”
“Shut the fuck up,” you mutter, but there’s no heat behind it. “C’mon, let’s get you sorted.”
You help her to her feet, and she wobbles, gripping your arm like it’s the only thing keeping her upright. After saying goodbye to your friends, somehow, you manage to guide her the short distance to your apartment, both of you giggling like idiots the whole way. By the time you’re inside, her sweater’s sliding off one shoulder, and her hair’s a mess, but she looks at you with this sleepy grin that makes your head swim worse than the booze.
You sit her down on the couch, and she flops back like she’s about to take a nap right then and there. “God, your couch is so comfy,” she murmurs, kicking off her shoes.
“It’s a couch, Hanni, not a five-star hotel,” you say, but you’re smiling anyway as you sit down next to her.
For a while, it’s quiet. The kind of quiet that comes when the party’s over, and the city outside is muted under the weight of night. Hanni shifts closer, curling her legs under her, her knee brushing yours. She looks at you, and there’s something in her gaze now—not just the drunken haze, but something deeper. Something you’ve been trying not to notice all night.
“I meant what I said earlier,” she says, her voice soft but steady.
You frown. “What? That I’m cute?”
She nods, biting her lip like she’s bracing for impact. “Yeah. That. And the part about loving you.”
Your chest tightens, and you let out a short, breathless laugh, trying to break the tension. “Hanni, you’re drunk. You’re gonna forget this by tomorrow morning.”
“Fuck that,” she says, sitting up straighter now, her face inches from yours. “You think I don’t know how I feel? You’re my best friend, yeah, but also…you’re more. You’ve always been more.”
Her words hang there, heavy and undeniable. Your pulse thrums in your ears as she leans in, her lips brushing yours, tentative at first. Then it deepens, and all the air seems to vanish from the room. Her hands slide up your neck, her fingers tangling in your hair, and before you can think, you’re kissing her back, your hands gripping her waist like she’s the only thing keeping you anchored.
When you finally break apart, her lips are swollen, her breath hitching as she looks at you like you’ve just answered a question she’s been too afraid to ask.
“This is so fucking stupid,” you whisper, but you’re already leaning in again, your lips finding hers as the tension between you snaps like a live wire. She climbs onto your lap, her thighs pressing against you, and you don’t even care that you’re both still drunk. The couch groans under your combined weight, but neither of you notice, too caught up in the heat of the moment.
“We should—bed—” you manage to mumble between kisses, and she nods, her lips trailing down your jaw.
Somehow, you make it to the bedroom, the clothes leaving a haphazard trail in the hallway and inside your room. By the time you hit the mattress, both already naked, it’s not just excitement buzzing through you—it’s the quiet, electric realization that this is happening, and there’s no turning back.
The bed creaks beneath you both, the springs protesting as Hanni sprawls out on her back, looking up at you with a mix of hazy confidence and nervous vulnerability. Her cheeks are flushed, hair a wild mess against your pillow, and she’s biting her lip so hard you’re half afraid she’ll draw blood. You hover over her, your hands on either side of her, just taking her in for a moment. This is Hanni—your best friend, your partner in crime—and right now, she looks like a fucking dream, her legs parted slightly, the curve of her hips begging for attention.
“You’re staring,” she says, voice low but teasing, and she reaches up, cupping your jaw with one hand. Her fingers are warm, soft, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “I know I’m hot, but damn.”
You laugh, short and breathless, shaking your head. “Fuck off, Hanni. You’re not gonna ruin this by talking shit.”
“Oh, I’m totally gonna talk shit,” she replies, her grin sharp but faltering slightly when you dip your head, pressing your lips to hers again. The kiss is slower this time, deeper, and when you nip at her bottom lip, she gasps into your mouth, her hips shifting beneath you.
Your hand finds her side. Her skin’s soft and warm, and when your palm grazes the swell of her breast, she lets out this soft, needy sound that goes straight to your cock
“God, you’re so fucking impatient,” you murmur against her lips, but your tone’s more affectionate than mocking. Your hand slides down, over her tummy, then you pause, your fingers resting just above where you know she’s burning for you.
“Don’t,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. Her eyes lock on yours, and for a moment, you think she’s gonna back out, but then she smirks. “Don’t fucking tease me.”
“Well, now I have to,” you say, rubbing your fingers on her mon pubis.
“Asshole,” she breathes, but her words catch in her throat when your fingers find her slick folds. She’s soaked, and the realization sends a rush of heat through you. “Oh, fuck—”
“Shit, Hanni,” you say, your voice rough with a mix of awe and lust. “You’re fucking dripping.”
Her laugh is shaky, more like a breathy moan. “Yeah, well…you’re taking your sweet ass time about it.”
“Patience is a virtue,” you reply, but your fingers are already sliding lower, brushing over her clit. The reaction is immediate—her body jerks, her hips pressing up into your hand as a strangled moan escapes her.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” she chants, her words tumbling out as your fingers circle her clit, slow and deliberate. “Just like that—oh, god, yeah, like th—oh fuck!”
Her voice cuts off as you slide one finger into her, her walls clenching around you like a vice. You add another finger, curling them slightly, and the noise she makes is obscene—half a gasp, half a moan, her head tipping back against the pillow.
“You’re so fucking tight,” you say, your voice low and rough. “How the fuck are you this tight?”
“Shut up,” she groans, but there’s no real bite to her words. Her hands grip the sheets like they’re the only thing keeping her grounded as you start moving, your fingers pumping into her at a steady rhythm.
Her hips roll against your hand, desperate and needy, and when your thumb brushes her clit again, she practically cries out. “Oh my god—yes—just like that—fuck!”
“Yeah?” you ask, grinning as you lean down, your lips grazing her ear. “You like that, Hanni? You like the way I’m fucking you with my fingers?”
“Yes—fuck, yes—” she gasps, her voice breaking as her body arches off the bed. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking dare—”
Her words dissolve into moans as you pick up the pace, your fingers fucking her harder, faster. You can feel her tightening around you, her breath hitching, her entire body trembling as she teeters on the edge.
“Come on, Hanni,” you murmur, your lips brushing her temple. “Let go for me. I wanna feel you cum all over my fingers.”
Her response is incoherent—a garbled mix of your name and curses—but then she’s coming apart, her back arching, her thighs trembling as her pussy clenches around your fingers. Her moan is long and guttural, her hands flying to your shoulders as she rides out the waves of her orgasm.
“Fuck—fuck, oh my god—” she pants, her chest heaving as she comes down, her body still shivering under your touch. You don’t stop, not yet, your fingers slowing but staying inside her, coaxing out every last aftershock.
When you finally pull your hand away, her eyes flutter open, and she looks at you with a dazed, fucked-out expression that makes your chest tighten.
“Holy shit,” she breathes, her voice shaky. “That was…”
You smirk, leaning down to kiss her, your lips brushing hers lightly. “We��re not done yet.”
Before she can respond, you slide down the bed, positioning yourself between her legs. You press a kiss to the inside of her thigh, your hands spreading her open, and she gasps, her hands flying to your hair as your tongue flicks over her sensitive clit, licking through the mess she’s left behind—sweet, sticky, and fucking intoxicating. Hanni’s trembling beneath you, her thighs twitching every time your tongue grazes her clit. Her fingers are tangled in your hair, tugging just hard enough to sting, and you can’t tell if she’s trying to push you away or keep you there forever.
“Jesus fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” she gasps, her voice breathy and half-wrecked, like she’s been screaming at a concert all night. “I’m—oh god—s-sensitive—”
You pull back slightly, grinning against her skin. “Yeah? Sensitive, huh? You’re the one who keeps pulling me closer.”
“Shut up,” she snaps, but her words falter when you press your tongue flat against her, slow and wet, dragging it from her entrance to her clit. Her body jolts, a sharp inhale cutting her off. “Oh fuck—stop talking and just—”
“What? Just this?” you interrupt, sucking her clit into your mouth, your fingers digging into her thighs to keep her in place when she tries to squirm away. Her reaction is immediate—her back arches off the mattress, her head tossing back against the pillow.
“FUCK—yes, like that—oh my god, just like that—” she chokes out, her voice rising and falling with every flick of your tongue.
You pull back just enough to murmur, “You taste so fucking good, Hanni. I could eat you all night.”
She groans, throwing an arm over her face, her voice a mix of exasperation and raw need. “You’re such a goddamn showoff.”
“And you love it,” you reply, sliding your tongue back inside her, savoring the way she clenches around it. The cream left behind from her last orgasm coats your lips, and you lap at it like a man starving, dragging out every broken moan she gives you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she stammers, her hands gripping your hair like a lifeline. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna—”
You pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning up at her. “Gonna what? Cum again? Already?”
Her glare is half-hearted, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re dripping,” you shoot back, crawling up her body until your face is hovering over hers. You kiss her, slow and dirty, letting her taste herself on your lips. When you pull back, her eyes flicker down between your bodies, and her breath hitches.
“Holy shit,” she whispers, and you follow her gaze to where your cock is pressed against her stomach, hard and heavy. “That’s…uh…”
“What?” you ask, smirking. “Bigger than you expected?”
She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing as her eyes dart back to your face. “I mean—yeah, kinda.”
You laugh, the sound low and rough as you reach down, guiding her onto her hands and knees. “Don’t worry. You’ll take it.”
She lets out a nervous laugh, glancing over her shoulder at you as you position yourself behind her. “Confident much?”
“You’ll see,” you say, running the head of your cock along her folds, teasing her just enough to make her hips jerk back toward you. “Fuck, Hanni, you’re so wet. You’re gonna take me so good.”
Her response is a shaky moan, her hands gripping the sheets as you push inside her, slow and steady. The stretch is immediate, her body tightening around you like a vice, and you grit your teeth, fighting to keep control.
“Oh my god,” she gasps, her voice high and breathless. “Oh fuck—you’re—fuck, you’re huge—”
“Yeah?” you say, gripping her hips as you sink deeper, inch by inch. “You like it, don’t you?”
“Fuck, yes—don’t stop—” she groans, her head dropping forward as you bottom out, your hips flush against her ass. You stay still for a moment, letting her adjust, your hands smoothing over her waist, her back, the curve of her ass.
“You look so fucking good like this,” you murmur, giving her ass a firm squeeze. “All spread out for me.”
She lets out a soft laugh, glancing back at you with a dazed smirk. “You’re so full of yourself.”
You don’t bother replying, instead pulling back and snapping your hips forward, the sound of skin on skin filling the room. Her gasp turns into a cry, her body rocking forward with the force of your thrust.
“Fuck—yes, just like that—” she moans, her voice muffled as her face presses into the pillow. You pick up the pace, your grip on her hips tightening as you fuck her harder, each thrust sending shockwaves through both of you.
You raise one hand, bringing it down on her ass with a sharp slap. The sound echoes in the room, and she cries out, her walls tightening around you. “Shit—you like that?” you ask, spanking her again, harder this time.
“Fuck—yes—do it again—” she pants, her voice ragged. You oblige, your hand coming down on her ass until it’s red and warm under your palm. She’s a mess beneath you, moaning and writhing, her body arching every time you spank her.
Your grip tightens on Hanni’s hips as you feel her starting to unravel. Her moans spill out in frantic, breathy bursts, her voice trembling under the pressure of everything building inside her. She’s trying to keep her balance, her arms shaking as she holds herself up, but you’re not making it easy. Every thrust has her lurching forward, her ass bouncing back to meet you, her body completely giving in to the rhythm you’ve set.
“Shit—fuck—oh my god, I’m so close,” she stammers, her voice climbing higher, more desperate with every word. Her hands claw at the sheets, bunching the fabric into her fists as you slam into her again, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room.
“Come on, Hanni,” you growl, your breath hot against the sweat-slicked curve of her back. Your hand dips between her legs, fingers finding her clit and circling it in sync with your thrusts. “I can feel it. You’re right there, aren’t you?”
“Yes—oh god, yes,” she cries out, her voice cracking as her hips buck against your hand. “Don’t stop—don’t you fucking stop—”
You don’t. You keep your pace steady, unrelenting, the wet sounds of her slick pussy growing louder, more obscene, until finally, she snaps. Her whole body locks up, her head tossing back as a scream tears out of her throat, raw and broken.
“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck—” she chants, her thighs trembling violently as her orgasm rips through her, wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure. Her walls clench around you like a vice, trying to pull you deeper, but you hold still, grinding into her just enough to prolong her high. Her moans turn into whimpers, then gasps, her body sagging forward as she rides out the aftershocks.
When she finally collapses, her chest heaving against the mattress, you can’t help but grin. “Oh Hanni,” you murmur, sliding out of her slowly, your cock still hard and aching, slick with her arousal. “You looked so fucking good just now.”
She turns her head, her hair sticking to her flushed, sweaty face as she glares at you halfheartedly. “Shut up,” she mutters, but her voice is shaky, her body still twitching with the remnants of her orgasm.
“Nah, I mean it,” you say, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of her neck, tasting the salt of her skin. “You’re fucking perfect like this.”
Her response is a muffled groan into the pillow, and you laugh, flipping her onto her back before she can complain. Her legs fall open instinctively, and the sight of her laid out beneath you—skin flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly—makes your cock twitch.
“I’m not done with you yet,” you murmur, positioning yourself between her legs. Your hands slide up her thighs, pushing them further apart as you line yourself up with her entrance. She looks up at you, her lips parted, her eyes hazy but full of something that goes deeper than just lust.
“God, you’re so fucking cheesy,” she whispers, but there’s no bite to her words. If anything, she looks…soft. Open. Like she’s waiting for something only you can give her.
You push into her slowly, watching her face as you fill her inch by inch. Her lips fall open, a soft gasp escaping her as her body stretches to accommodate you. “Oh fuck,” she breathes, her hands coming up to clutch at your shoulders. “Oh my god, you’re—fuck, you’re so deep—”
“Yeah?” you ask, your voice rough as you bottom out, your hips flush against hers. “Feel good?”
“Fuck yes,” she moans, wrapping her legs around your waist to pull you closer. “God, you feel so fucking good—”
You start moving, your thrusts slow and deliberate, dragging your cock out almost all the way before slamming back into her. Her head tips back, her nails digging into your shoulders as she moans unabashedly, her voice filling the room. “Yes—fuck, just like that—”
You lean down, bracing yourself on your forearms so you’re hovering over her. Your lips find hers, swallowing her cries as you pick up the pace, your hips snapping against hers harder, faster. She breaks the kiss first, gasping for air, her hands sliding into your hair to tug you closer.
“I love you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies colliding. Her eyes meet yours, wide and shining, and the vulnerability in her expression makes your cock throbs. “Fuck, I love you so much.”
You freeze for a second, but the way she’s looking at you—like you’re the only thing keeping her tethered to the earth—it's enough to drive you crazy. “Hanni,” you murmur, your voice breaking as you start moving again, slower this time, each thrust deep and deliberate. “Fuck, I love you too.”
Her breath hitches, and she pulls you down into another kiss, her legs tightening around you as if she’s trying to fuse your bodies together. “Don’t stop,” she whispers against your lips. “Don’t ever stop.”
"I won't," you groan, your cock throbbing inside her tight, wet pussy as you grind deep. Her walls flutter around you with each slow, deliberate thrust, and you can feel how close she is to cumming. You press your forehead against hers, maintaining eye contact as you fuck her with long, measured strokes.
"You feel so good wrapped around my cock," you tell her, your voice rough with emotion. "So fucking perfect, Hanni. Love how wet you get for me."
She whimpers, her nails digging into your shoulders as her hips buck up to meet yours. "Only for you," she gasps. "Nobody's ever made me this wet before."
The admission makes your cock twitch, and you reward her with a particularly deep thrust that has her crying out. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby. Tell me how good I make you feel."
"So good," she moans, her pussy clenching around you. "Your cock fills me up perfectly. Feels like you were made for me."
You kiss her hard, swallowing her moans as you pick up the pace slightly. Your tongue slides against hers as you fuck her deeper, harder, but still maintaining that intimate connection. Her tits press against your chest with each thrust, her hard nipples dragging against your skin.
"Love these perfect tits," you growl, breaking the kiss to trail your lips down her neck. You suck hard enough to leave marks, wanting everyone to know she's yours. "I love how they bounce while I fuck you, how they get so hard for me."
Hanni arches her back, pressing her chest more firmly against you. "Please," she whimpers. "Touch them, suck on them, anything!"
You shift your weight to one arm so you can cup one of her tits, rolling the nipple between your fingers as you continue to thrust. "Like this, baby? Like having your tits played with while I fuck your tight little pussy?"
"Yes!" she cries out, her walls clamping down around you. "Fuck, I'm getting close!"
"That's it," you encourage her, lowering your head to take her other nipple into your mouth. You suck hard while still pinching and rolling the other one, your cock never stopping its steady rhythm inside her. "Want to feel you cum all over my cock. Want to feel how tight that pussy gets when you lose control."
Her hands slide into your hair, holding you against her breast as you continue to suck and nibble at her sensitive flesh. "Oh god, oh fuck," she pants, her thighs trembling where they're wrapped around your waist. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"
You release her nipple with a wet pop, looking up to meet her eyes again. "Never stopping, baby. Gonna keep fucking this sweet pussy until you can't take it anymore." You punctuate your words with a particularly deep thrust that has her seeing stars.
"Love watching you fall apart on my cock," you continue, your voice rough with desire. "Love feeling your pussy get wetter and tighter with each thrust. You gonna cum for me, Hanni? Gonna show me how good I make you feel?"
She nods frantically, her eyes glazed with pleasure as she stares up at you. "So close," she whimpers. "Just a little more, please!"
You shift slightly, changing the angle of your thrusts so your cock drags against her g-spot with each stroke. At the same time, you slide your hand between your bodies to find her clit, rubbing tight circles around the swollen bud.
"Fuck!" she screams, her back arching off the bed. "Right there, right fucking there!"
"Yeah? This what you need, baby?" You keep the pressure steady on her clit as you continue to pound into her g-spot. "Love how your pussy's gripping me right now. Can feel how close you are to cumming."
Her nails rake down your back as she writhes beneath you, chasing her orgasm. "Please," she begs. "Make me cum again, please make me cum!"
You lean down to whisper in her ear, your voice low and rough. "Cum for me, Hanni. Show me how good my cock makes you feel. Want to feel that tight little pussy squeeze me while you cream all over my dick."
That does it. With a sharp cry of your name, Hanni's orgasm crashes over her. Her pussy clamps down around you like a vice as she cums, her whole body shaking with the force of her release. You can feel her cream gushing around your cock, making everything even wetter and slicker as you continue to fuck her through it.
"That's it, baby," you groan, fighting against your own need to cum as her walls milk your cock. "Fuck, you look so beautiful when you cum. Love watching you lose control like this."
She's babbling incoherently now, a stream of "fuck" and "yes" and your name falling from her lips as her orgasm continues to roll through her. Her pussy is practically convulsing around your cock, making it incredibly difficult to hold back your own release.
But you manage, wanting to draw out her pleasure as long as possible. You stay buried inside her for what feels like forever, your bodies pressed together, sweat mingling, her legs still wrapped tightly around your waist. Hanni’s breathing slows gradually, her chest rising and falling against yours as her trembling subsides. You brush her hair out of her face, tucking the damp strands behind her ear, and she gives you this sleepy, satisfied grin that makes your chest ache.
“You’re gonna ruin me, baby,” she mutters, her voice soft and teasing, her fingers trailing lazily over your back.
You chuckle, nipping at her jawline. “Pretty sure I already did that.”
“Shut up,” she murmurs, but there’s no heat to it. She shifts slightly, wincing when your cock twitches inside her, still rock hard. “Jesus, are you still ready to go?”
“Can’t help it,” you reply, smirking as you grind against her, making her gasp. “You’re fucking addictive, Hanni.”
She groans, covering her face with one hand, but when she peeks up at you through her fingers, her eyes are gleaming. “Okay, fine. My turn.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Your turn for what?”
“To make you cum, dumbass.” She pushes at your chest until you roll onto your back, letting her straddle you. Her thighs press against your hips as she sits back, your cock still buried deep inside her. She bites her lip, her hands sliding over your chest. “God, you’re fucking huge. I can feel you all the way in my stomach.”
“Yeah?” you say, your voice rough, your hands finding her waist. “You’re taking me so fucking well, Hanni. You're absolutely perfect.”
“Damn right I am,” she says, smirking as she starts to move, slow and deliberate, rocking her hips in a way that makes your breath catch. “Fuck, you’re so deep…”
She sets a rhythm, her hands braced on your chest, her body rolling against yours with a lazy, drunk confidence. The sight of her above you—hair a mess, lips swollen, her tits bouncing with every move—has you gripping her hips like she’s the only thing keeping you grounded.
“Shit, Hanni,” you groan, your head tipping back against the pillow. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”
Her laugh is breathy, almost mocking. “Good,” she says, picking up the pace, her thighs slapping against yours with every bounce. “You deserve it.”
Her movements get sloppier, needier, her breath hitching every time your cock hits that spot inside her. And then, out of nowhere, she starts talking—dirty, raw, and absolutely unhinged.
“God, I can feel you so fucking deep,” she moans. “You’re gonna ruin me, you know that? You’re gonna fuck me so full I won’t even be able to walk tomorrow.”
“Fuck,” you hiss, her words going straight to your cock, making you buck up into her. “Keep talking, baby. Fucking say it.”
With your request, Hanni rides you with a desperation that feels almost animalistic, her hips slamming down onto yours like she’s trying to bury you even deeper inside her. Every bounce makes her tits jiggle, her nails scraping against your chest, leaving angry red trails that sting just enough to keep you tethered to reality. But just barely. You’re so drunk, so fucking drunk, that every sensation feels magnified, her heat, her tightness, the wet sounds of her cunt taking you over and over—it’s all you can focus on.
“Fuck—oh fuck—you’re so fucking deep,” she continues, her voice raw and slurred, her head tipping back as she grinds against you, her clit brushing against the base of your cock. “I really can feel you in my fucking stomach—god, you’re ruining me—”
You groan, your hands glued to her waist, guiding her movements as she slams down onto you again and again. “You’re so fucking tight, Hanni. I can barely move—you’re gripping me so fucking hard.”
Her moans grow louder, more frantic, and when she leans forward, her lips grazing your ear, her voice drops to a sultry whisper that shoots straight through you like lightning. “You’re gonna cum inside me, aren’t you?”
Your breath catches, your hands tightening on her hips. “What?”
“You’re gonna fucking fill me up,” she says, her teeth nipping at your earlobe. “I can feel you, baby—you’re so fucking close. I want it. God, I need it.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Hanni—” Your head falls back against the pillow, your grip on her hips almost bruising now as she speeds up, her thighs slapping against yours with every bounce. You can barely form a coherent thought, let alone a reply, because all you can hear, all you can feel, is her.
“I want you to breed me,” she breathes, her words spilling out like she doesn’t even care how insane they sound. “I want you to fill me so fucking full I can feel you leaking out of me for days.”
You choke on a groan, your hips bucking up into her so hard it makes her gasp, her nails dragging down your chest. “Fuck, Hanni—you’re out of your goddamn mind.”
“And it's all your fault,” she shoots back, her voice dripping with lust as she smirks down at you. “You know you drive me crazy and still insist on teasing me. Tell me the truth: you’ve been dying to cum inside me all night, haven’t you?”
“Shit—” Your voice cracks as she grinds her hips in slow, teasing circles, her walls fluttering around you like she knows exactly what she’s doing. “You’re fucking insane.”
She leans down, her hands braced on either side of your head, her breath hot against your face. “Maybe,” she whispers, her voice trembling but full of wicked intent. “But you’re gonna give me what I want, aren’t you?”
Her lips crash against yours before you can answer, swallowing your groan as she slams down onto you again, her movements frantic and unrelenting. The angle shifts just enough to make your cock hit that perfect spot inside her, and she breaks the kiss with a scream, her body convulsing as she clings to you.
“Fuck—fuck—fuck yes—just like that,” she babbles, her words spilling out in a breathless rush. “You’re so deep, so fucking deep—I want it, baby, I want you to cum inside me. Please—fuck—please, I need it.”
Her pleading sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel your control unraveling, your body tensing as the pressure builds, white-hot and unbearable. “Shit, Hanni—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m so close—”
"Yes, yes, fucking breed me!" she begs, voice breaking as she slams herself down harder. "Fill this tight pussy up with your hot fucking cum. I need you to knock me up so bad. Pump that thick cum deep in my womb!"
Her dirty talk drives you wild. Your hands grip her waist, helping lift and drop her onto your throbbing shaft. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, making obscene wet sounds each time she takes you to the hilt. The way her walls grip and massage your cock has your eyes rolling back.
"Gonna cum," you grunt, feeling your balls tighten. "Gonna flood that tight pussy."
"Do it! Fucking do it!" She starts grinding and circling her hips, stimulating every sensitive spot. "Give me every last drop. Want your cum dripping out of me for days!"
Your orgasm hits like a tsunami. Your cock pulses violently as you start shooting thick ropes of hot cum deep inside her. But she doesn't stop - if anything she fucks you harder, determined to milk out every single drop.
"Oh fuuuuck!" you moan as she keeps bouncing through your orgasm. The stimulation is almost too much on your sensitive cock but she won't let up. Her pussy walls contract rhythmically, literally sucking the cum out of you.
"I can feel it," she pants, eyes glazed with lust. "So much hot cum filling me up. Keep cumming for me, baby. Give me more!"
The continued stimulation has you seeing stars. Your cock is so sensitive it almost hurts but the pleasure is mind-blowing. She grinds down hard, working her hips in circles as she milks out another surge of cum.
"Such a good boy," she purrs. "Giving me all that potent cum. Gonna put a baby in me with all this hot fucking seed."
Your whole body trembles as she continues riding. More cum spurts out with each bounce, making wet squelching sounds as it mixes with her juices. She's absolutely relentless, using your cock like her personal cum extraction tool.
"Please," you gasp, overwhelmed by the intense stimulation. "Fuck, Hanni!"
"Just a little more," she moans, her movements getting erratic. "Want every last drop inside me. Need all your cum breeding my tight little pussy!"
Your eyes roll back as another orgasm crashes through you, smaller but just as intense. She cries out in triumph as she feels the fresh surge of cum, her own orgasm making her pussy convulse around your oversensitive cock.
"Fuck yes! Breed me, breed me, breed meeee!" She collapses onto your chest, still grinding slowly. "So much cum... You give me so much cum, baby… can feel it so deep..."
Your cock gives a few final weak pulses, completely drained. She finally stills but keeps you trapped inside her, her pussy occasionally squeezing as if trying to coax out any remaining drops.
"Mmm, your cum is so hot, baby," she sighs contentedly. "Filled me up so perfectly. Gonna keep all this hot cum inside me until it takes."
You can only lie there panting as she nuzzles your neck, your thoroughly milked cock still twitching inside her cum-flooded pussy.
You wrap your arms around her, holding her close, and for a long moment, neither of you says anything. The room is silent except for the faint hum of the city outside and the sound of your uneven breathing. Everything feels still, heavy, like the world just stopped to let you exist like this.
Then Hanni snorts.
It starts quiet, just a soft huff against your chest, but it builds quickly, bubbling up until she’s full-on giggling like a kid who just got caught doing something stupid. It’s contagious. You’re laughing too, your head tipping back into the pillow, your chest shaking beneath her.
“What the fuck are we even laughing at?” you wheeze, running a hand through her damp hair as her giggles turn into full-blown cackles.
“I don’t know!” she gasps, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. “I think—I think it’s just—holy shit, we actually did that.”
You grin, wiping at her face with the pad of your thumb. “Yeah, we fucking did. And now I can’t feel my legs, so thanks for that.”
“Don’t even,” she shoots back, propping her chin on your chest and glaring at you playfully. “You’re the one who fucked me so hard I saw stars.”
“Yeah? You’re welcome, then.” You wink at her, and she groans, burying her face in your chest again, her laughter muffled against your skin.
When she finally calms down, she tilts her head up to look at you, her expression softening. “Hey,” she says quietly, her fingers brushing over your jawline. “I wasn’t kidding earlier, you know. I love you.”
Her words hit you like a sucker punch, but not in a bad way. It’s more like someone just flipped a switch inside you, lighting up every dark, unspoken corner of your heart. “Fuck,” you murmur. “I love you too, Hanni.”
She beams, her smile so wide and genuine it almost makes you forget how fucking trashed you both are. “That was—shit, that was the best sex of my life,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief. “Like, no contest. Hall of Fame level.”
You snort. “Same. And that’s saying something, because I once hooked up with this girl who—”
“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence,” she interrupts, smacking your chest lightly. “Don’t ruin the moment!”
“Fine, fine,” you say, grinning as you squeeze her waist. “Moment un-ruined. But seriously, you were fucking amazing.”
She smirks, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of your neck. “Duh. I know that already.”
“God, you’re impossible,” you mutter, but your smile doesn’t falter.
She yawns suddenly, the sound soft and innocent, and you raise an eyebrow. “You good? Wanna hop in the shower or something before we crash?”
Her nose wrinkles immediately, and she shakes her head. “Fuck that. I’m not moving an inch. We can sleep like this—sweaty, sticky, whatever. I don’t give a shit.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you pull her closer, tucking her against your side. “You’re such a goddamn gremlin.”
“Aaand-youuu-loveee-it,” she mumbles, already half-asleep, her voice muffled against your chest.
“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand running up and down her back. “I fucking do.”
Then, finally, the alcohol and exhaustion hit you both like a fucking truck, pulling you under faster than you expect. You drift off together, her body warm and soft against yours, her breath slow and steady in your ear. It’s messy and stupid and probably the worst decision you’ve ever made, but for now, it feels like the best thing in the world. You fall asleep like two reckless, drunk kids who don’t know any better, and for a little while, everything feels perfect.
—
It's like the first morning in purgatory.
You stir first, the throbbing in your skull dragging you out of unconsciousness. Your mouth is dry, your limbs heavy, and every movement feels like wading through molasses. You blink against the pale light leaking through the blinds, your vision blurry, the pounding in your head relentless. Beside you, Hanni lets out a soft groan, still half-buried in the covers, her hair a wild mess against the pillow.
“Fuck…” you croak, your voice rough as sandpaper. “What the hell happened?”
Hanni stirs, her face scrunching up in discomfort. “Why does my brain feel like it’s on fire?” she mutters, her words muffled against the pillow. She shifts slightly, the sheet slipping down to reveal bare shoulders. “Wait—”
She freezes.
Your eyes snap fully open, the fog in your head clearing just enough to process what you’re seeing. Hanni’s eyes go wide, darting between your face and the sheet draped haphazardly over your waist. “Why the fuck are we naked?” she asks, her voice pitching higher, panic seeping into her tone.
You wince, the sound drilling into your already aching skull. “I—uh—” You glance down, seeing your bare chest, then feel the cool air against your equally bare ass under the sheets. “Shit.”
Her hands fly to her own chest, clutching the blanket against herself as if that’ll undo whatever the fuck happened. “Did we…? Oh my god, did we fuck?”
You sit up slowly, your head spinning. “I don’t know! I mean…” Your brow furrows as fragmented memories start piecing themselves together. Her riding you, her breathless moans, the way she begged—fuck, fuck, fuck. “Okay, maybe. Yeah, probably.”
“Probably?” she snaps, sitting up too quickly and clutching her head. “Fuck, my brain feels like it’s gonna split in half. Okay, but like—wait.” Her voice falters, her panic mounting as her eyes search your face. “Did you—did you, uh, cum inside me?”
You freeze, the question hitting you like a brick to the face. “What?” you ask, stalling for time as your headache roars back to life. “I don’t…fuck, I don’t remember. I was so wasted—”
“Oh my god,” she interrupts, her voice trembling as she throws off the covers and sits back on her heels, her hands flying between her legs. She winces, her fingers brushing something sticky, and when she pulls them back, her face goes pale. “Oh my fucking god. I can feel it. It’s—it’s dry—holy shit, you really came inside me!”
Your stomach twists violently as the memories come flooding back—the heat of her body, the way she clung to you, the way you spilled into her so deeply it felt like you’d never come back up for air. “Shit,” you mutter, dragging a hand down your face. “Okay. Fuck. Yeah, that…definitely happened.”
“On Christmas?” she nearly shrieks, clutching the sheet around herself like it’s some kind of moral shield. “You knocked me up on fucking Christmas? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Whoa, whoa, hold up!” you say, raising your hands defensively. “First of all, technically it was on Christmas Eve. Hmm, although there is a big chance it could have happened after midnight, I think we got here pretty late…” Hanni looks at you as if contemplating the idea of committing murder. “Oh, second and most importantly, nobody’s knocked up yet. It doesn’t happen that fast!”
“Yeah, but you fucking came inside me!” she shoots back, her voice a wild mix of fury and panic. “What the hell were we thinking? Why the fuck didn’t we use a condom?!”
“I don’t know, Hanni! We were drunk off our asses! I barely even remember half of last night!” You gesture vaguely at the room, at the scattered clothes and the bed completely messed up. “I mean, look at this shit. Does this look like the scene of responsible decision-making?”
She glares at you, her hands still clutching the sheet tightly. “Okay, well, what the fuck do we do now? The pharmacies are probably closed. It’s Christmas! Do you think there’s some magical 24/7 Plan B hotline we can call? Hey, Santa, got any emergency contraceptives in that bag of yours?”
Her sarcasm slices through the tension, and despite the mounting panic, you can’t help but laugh—a short, bitter sound. “Yeah, let’s just write to the fucking North Pole. ‘Dear Santa, I was very naughty last night. Please send condoms and a time machine.’”
She doesn’t laugh. She’s too busy pacing now, muttering under her breath as she tries to piece together a plan. “Okay, okay, maybe there’s a convenience store open somewhere. Or—fuck, do I know someone who could have contraceptives? No, that’s stupid—god, I’m so fucking stupid—”
Hanni moves like a whirlwind, her body tense and her face set as she grabs her scattered clothes off your bedroom and hallway floor. She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t even glance in your direction as she yanks her sweater over her head and hops into her underwear with sharp, jerky movements. You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, the sheet pooling around your waist, watching her with growing agony.
“Hanni, will you just fucking stop for a second?” you say, your voice low but urgent. “We need to talk about this.”
“Talk about what?” she snaps, still not looking at you as she grabs her jeans. “About how we were too drunk and stupid to use protection? About how I might have a goddamn Christmas baby on the way? Yeah, sounds like a super fun conversation.”
You sigh, scrubbing a hand over your face. “Come on, don’t do this. We can figure it out together—”
“There’s nothing to figure out!” she interrupts, finally turning to face you, her expression a volatile mix of anger and panic. “I’m going home. I need—I just need to think. Alone.”
“Alone?” you repeat, standing up, the sheet slipping off your waist. “You’re seriously just gonna leave? What if you—”
“I’ll find a pharmacy,” she says quickly, cutting you off again. “I’ll take care of it. I just… I can’t fucking deal with this right now, okay?”
“Hanni, please,” you say, stepping closer, reaching out to grab her arm. “Don’t shut me out. I—fuck, I care about you. We’ll get through this together.”
She pulls her arm out of your grip, her jaw tight. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one who could end up pregnant. You’re not the one who has to wonder how the fuck you got here with your best friend.”
This unsettles you for a moment, but before you can reply, she’s already slipping on her jacket, her hand on the doorknob. “Hanni,” you say again, softer this time, your voice almost pleading. “Stay. Please.”
She pauses, just for a second, her shoulders slumping. But then she shakes her head, her voice nothing but a whisper. “I can’t.”
And with that, she’s gone, leaving you standing in the doorway, naked, hungover, and completely fucking lost.
—
The next few weeks are a blur of radio silence and vague, clipped texts that feel more like placeholders than actual communication. Hanni texts you the morning after to say she found a pharmacy that was miraculously open on Christmas and took the pill, but that’s it. No follow-ups, no calls, just short, impersonal messages that feel like they’re written by a stranger.
You spend every day alternating between guilt, panic, and a weird, gnawing ache you can’t quite name. Every time your phone buzzes, your heart races, hoping it’s her. Half the time it’s not, and the other half it’s just more of the same: I’m fine. Just busy. Talk later.
When “later” finally comes, it’s weeks down the line. You’re sitting on your couch, staring blankly at some shitty Netflix movie you’re not even watching, when your phone rings. The sight of Hanni’s name on the screen jolts you upright, your heart pounding as you fumble to answer.
“Hanni,” you say, your voice cracking slightly. “Hey. What’s—what’s up?”
There’s a pause, and then her voice comes through, soft and hesitant. “I got my period.”
Relief floods through you so fast it almost knocks you over. “Oh, thank fuck,” you mutter, leaning back into the couch, your head tipping back against the cushions. “That’s—that’s fucking great news.”
“Yeah,” she says, but there’s no relief in her tone. Just exhaustion. “It is.”
You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between you like a storm cloud. Finally, you clear your throat. “Can I see you? Maybe we could grab coffee or something, just talk. I miss you, Hanni.”
She sighs, long and heavy. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“What…? Why not?”
“Because,” she says, her voice breaking slightly. “Because I’ve spent the last few weeks losing my mind, thinking about what might have happened, what did happen. I’ve been trying to figure out how the fuck we ended up here, and I still don’t have an answer.”
“We ended up here because we were drunk and stupid,” you say quickly, your words spilling out like a defense mechanism. “But that doesn’t mean—”
“That doesn’t mean it wasn’t a mistake?” she interrupts, her tone sharper now. “Because that’s what I keep asking myself. Was this a mistake? Did we ruin everything for one fucking night of drunken stupidity?”
“Hanni,” you say, your voice low and steady. “It wasn’t just one night. Don’t pretend like you don’t feel something—”
“Of course I feel something!” she snaps, cutting you off. “That’s the fucking problem! I can’t stop thinking about it—about you. About your hands, your body, your mouth, your fucking cock. And that’s why I can’t see you right now, because if I do…” She trails off, her breath hitching.
“Because if you do, what?” you press, your chest tight.
“Because if I do, it’s gonna happen again,” she says, her voice trembling. “And I don’t know if that’s a good thing or if it’s just gonna destroy everything we had.”
“We’ve already fucked up everything we had, Hanni,” you say quietly. “The question is whether we’re gonna fix it or just throw it all away.”
She lets out a shaky laugh, bitter and broken. “I don’t know if it can be fixed. I don’t even know what it is anymore.”
“So what?” you say, your voice rising slightly. “You’re just gonna ghost me? Walk away from everything we’ve built?”
“I’m not walking away,” she says softly. “I just… I need time. To figure out what I want, what we are, what we could be. I need to get over this before I see you again. Because if I don’t…”
“I thought you loved me... I mean, you said that to me that night.”
“I wasn't ready, you understand? Not really. This wasn't how I wanted it to happen… our first time, the confession of my feelings… I just…”
She doesn’t finish, but she doesn’t need to. The weight of her words hangs heavy in the silence, suffocating you.
“When will I see you?” you ask.
“I don’t know,” she replies, her voice cracking. “I really don’t.”
“Hann—”
The line cuts out, and you’re left holding the phone, staring at her name disappearing from the screen. The movie’s still playing, but it might as well not be.
You drop the phone, lean back, and close your eyes. Outside, the world moves on, but inside, it’s just silence—heavy, empty, and endless.
#Hanni#hanni smut#hanni x reader#Hanni x male reader#hanni newjeans#newjeans hanni#kpop smut#kpop angst#gg smut#kpop gg smut#kpop m!reader#kpop male oc#kpop male reader#ask me anything#m!reader#male reader#hanni pham#gg x male reader#hanni x you#m! reader#kpop x male reader#kpop gg#kpop#angst and smut
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Santa Baby
pairing: pedro pascal x f! popstar girlfriend
The stage was bathed in warm, festive light as snowflakes made of glitter descended from the rafters. The audience buzzed with excitement, eagerly awaiting the star of the night. Y/N’s highly anticipated Christmas special was live, showcasing her new holiday album. Fans worldwide tuned in to witness her performance, and among them was her proudest supporter her boyfriend-turned-fiancé, Pedro Pascal, seated in the front row.
Y/N’s voice soared through classic carols and original songs, each note wrapping the room in holiday magic. Dressed in a red velvet gown that shimmered under the lights, she was the picture of festive elegance. Her diamond necklace sparkled with every turn, but her smile was the true showstopper. Pedro leaned forward in his seat, utterly entranced, his warm brown eyes never leaving her.
Then came the moment that would be talked about for weeks. The band struck up the jazzy, slinky notes of Santa Baby, and the audience erupted into cheers. The curtains parted to reveal Y/N in a dazzling new outfit: a fitted red velvet bodice trimmed with soft white fur, paired with thigh-high boots and a sparkling Santa hat. She strutted across the stage, microphone in hand, her playful grin promising something extraordinary.
Pedro chuckled as she made eye contact with him, her flirty energy aimed directly his way. He shook his head, already knowing she was about to steal the show.
Her sultry voice filled the air:
Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me…
The crowd swayed along, their energy building with every lyric. Y/N’s performance was captivating, her charm impossible to resist. Pedro’s grin grew wider as she playfully gestured toward him during the bridge:
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
The audience roared with laughter and applause at her antics. Pedro, his face beaming with pride, clapped along, his eyes shining with admiration. But then, the atmosphere shifted as she reached the iconic line:
Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing a ring…
Y/N paused dramatically, her voice trailing off as she raised her left hand. The spotlight caught it, making the enormous diamond engagement ring glitter like the North Star. Gasps and cheers erupted from the crowd, and Pedro froze, caught completely off guard. For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his face broke into the most radiant smile, his eyes glassy with emotion.
The cameras panned to him, capturing his reaction as he stood, clapping and laughing, his expression one of pure love and pride. Y/N flashed him a cheeky grin, finishing the line with a twist:
…and I don’t mean on the phone!
The theater exploded with applause. Y/N gave a playful twirl, blowing Pedro a kiss and mouthing, I love you. He returned it with a blown kiss of his own, shaking his head as if to say, You’re unbelievable.
By the time Y/N finished her set, the news had already gone viral. Social media lit up with clips of the performance, fans gushing over her flawless vocals and Pedro’s swooning reaction. Headlines blared:
“Pop Star Y/N Drops Engagement Bombshell During Christmas Special!”
“Pedro Pascal and Y/N Are Officially Engaged And It’s the Holiday Surprise We Didn’t Know We Needed!”
The next morning, Pedro sat on the couch, scrolling through endless memes of his smitten expression. Y/N curled up beside him under a cozy blanket, her engagement ring catching the morning light.
“You really couldn’t wait to tell the world, huh?” he teased, showing her a tweet comparing him to a love-struck Hallmark movie character.
“What can I say?” she replied with a smirk. “I like making a statement.”
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Good. I want everyone to know I’m the luckiest man alive.”
Her smile softened as she laced her fingers with his. “Merry Christmas, Pedro.”
“Merry Christmas, future Mrs. Pascal.”
That evening, as the snow continued to drift softly outside, they decided to celebrate their engagement with a romantic soak in the outdoor hot tub. The steam swirled into the crisp winter air, and the glow of the nearby fire pit illuminated the space, casting flickering shadows over the snow-covered patio.
Y/N stepped out onto the deck, wrapped in a plush robe, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Pedro was already in the tub, leaning back against the edge with his arms sprawled out, the muscles of his chest glistening from the rising steam. His dark eyes fixed on her with a heat that rivaled the bubbling water.
“Come on in, future Mrs. Pascal,” he teased, his voice low and inviting.
Y/N smirked, dropping the robe to reveal her figure in a deep red bikini that matched the festive mood of the weekend. Pedro’s breath hitched, his gaze dragging over her like she was the only thing in the world.
“You’re staring,” she said playfully as she descended into the water, the warmth enveloping her instantly.
“Can you blame me?” he replied, his voice rough as he pulled her closer the moment she settled in. “Look at you. You’re stunning.”
She slid onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist, and wrapped her arms around his neck. The contrast of the hot water and the cool winter air made her shiver slightly, but Pedro’s hands on her hips quickly warmed her up.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Pascal,” she murmured, trailing her fingers along his jawline.
Pedro chuckled, but it quickly turned into a groan when her lips brushed against his. The kiss started slow, a gentle exploration, but quickly deepened as the tension between them simmered into something hotter than the water surrounding them. His hands roamed her back, sliding lower as he held her firmly against him.
“You know,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire, “you completely ruined me last night with that performance.”
“Good,” she whispered, biting her lip as she looked at him. “I wanted to drive you crazy.”
“Mission accomplished,” he said, his grip tightening as he kissed her again, his lips moving down to her neck, trailing over her collarbone.
“Pedro,” she breathed, her voice a mix of a plea and a tease.
He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his dark eyes blazing. “Say it again,” he murmured.
“Pedro,” she repeated, her hands framing his face as her lips brushed against his in the faintest of kisses.
“No,” he whispered, his smirk returning as his hands dipped into the water, pulling her closer. “The other thing. The thing I’ve been waiting to hear all day.”
She smiled, her heart thundering in her chest. “I love you, future husband.
Pedro’s laughter rumbled through the air before he captured her lips again, the kiss slow, sensual, and filled with the kind of love that made the world stand still. And as snowflakes melted on their heated skin, they knew this was the start of a holiday season they’d never forget.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal is hot#joel miller#joelmiller x reader#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal imagine#pedroispunk#pedro x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction
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vanilla coconut !
pairing: sunshine!sunoo x grumpy!reader
genre: one sided enemies to lovers, sunshine x grumpy trope, barista au, christmas au
synopsis: it's winter break and instead of exploring switzerland with your friends, you're unwillingly working in your mom's cafe. to make matters worse, the new hire is a little too clingy and hyper, always adamant on getting you excited for the holiday season, much to your dismay. as you're forced to be around him for more than half of the day, every single day, you learn a thing or two from each other. he smiles for the both of you, whatever you do is enough for him and whatever he does is too much for you. maybe just maybe you could be friends, or perhaps something more?
warnings: kissing, jealousy, flirty!sunoo, family issues, argument, reader is kinda mean, crying,
note: i finally got to write for my biggest crush—sunoo!(I'M SO IN LOVE WITH HIM) this has a slight hallmark movie vibe because i lovee them. merry christmas!
word count: 10.1k
i love reading your comments and reblogs, so please do so if you liked reading this<3
the plan had been perfect.
switzerland in winter, cozy chalets, the sparkle of snowflakes in the alps, and hot chocolate that was more melted dessert than drink. your friends had already started posting pictures: selfies by frosted windows, snow-covered towns that looked ripped out of postcards, and captions so carefree they stung.
but no. you weren’t in switzerland. you were here, in the cramped kitchen of your mom’s café, drowning in holiday specials and watching other people live out the joy you were supposed to be having.
“do you have to look so miserable?” your mom asked that morning as you trudged downstairs. “you’ll scare away the customers.”
“it’s not my fault i’m stuck here,” you muttered, your words muffled by the scarf you were wrapping around your neck.
your mom sighed but didn’t argue. she didn’t have to. the weight of responsibility—the oldest sibling’s eternal curse—hung heavily between you. when your mom had insisted you stay behind to help with the café’s holiday rush, the conversation hadn’t exactly been open for debate.
“it’s your responsibility,” your mom had said, her voice as unwavering as ever. “you’re the oldest. you understand that, don’t you?”
she’d said it like it was obvious, like it didn’t matter that you’d saved for months or that this was your last winter break before finishing university. your siblings had been conveniently absolved of all obligations, leaving you to pick up the slack.
and now here you were, staring out the café window at holiday shoppers bustling about their merry little lives.
it wasn’t just the lost trip that soured your mood. normally, you liked the holiday season—the warm lights, the scent of cinnamon in the air, the general buzz of joy. but this year, it felt impossible to muster up even a hint of cheer. maybe it was the bitterness of being left behind. or maybe it was the feeling that everyone else got to celebrate while you were stuck doing the thankless work.
whatever it was, you wanted no part of it. no twinkling lights, no jingly music, no forced smiles. if it were up to you, you’d fast-forward straight to january.
suddenly, the bell above the door jingled, snapping you out of your brooding. you straightened up, putting on your polite customer-service face as you prepared to take their order. but the sight that greeted you stopped you cold.
the man standing in the doorway looked like he’d lost a fight with a christmas clearance bin—and lost spectacularly. his coat was a patchwork of red and green, his scarf glittering with snowflake designs, and atop his head sat a ridiculous pom-pom hat that looked like it came straight from santa’s workshop, bouncing with every step.
you squinted at him, wondering how anyone could walk around looking like a walking holiday advertisement and not feel the slightest bit self-conscious. he practically radiated cheer, and you were already bracing yourself for the headache that would inevitably follow when you took his order.
his curious eyes stopped their surveillance once they stopped at you. he lit up and waved at you enthusiastically(his mittens made a soft fwip-fwip sound against the air as he did that, making him look even more adorable ridiculous in your opinion).
“sunoo!” your mom’s delighted voice rang out, cutting through your internal judgment. she emerged from the back, her face lighting up as if he were her long lost son. “you’re early! perfect timing.”
“always early for christmas,” he replied, his voice as bright as his outfit.
you raised an eyebrow, trying to piece together what was happening as your mom motioned for him to come closer.
“sunoo’s going to be helping us out during the holiday rush,” she explained, turning to you with an expectant smile. “isn’t that wonderful?”
wonderful was not the word you would have chosen.
before you could object, sunoo turned his attention to you, his smile widening like he’d just found the best present under the tree.
“hi!” he said, thrusting out a hand. “i’m sunoo. it’s so great to meet you! your mom’s told me all about you.”
“uh.. hi,” you managed, shaking his hand hesitantly.
“she also said you’re going to be showing me the ropes!” he added, his enthusiasm not faltering for even a second.
your mom patted his shoulder approvingly before disappearing back into the kitchen, leaving you alone with who could only be described as christmas incarnate himself.
“where should we start?” sunoo asked, looking around the café with sparkling eyes. “drinks? decorations? oh, wait—do i get an apron?”
you blinked at him, trying to process how someone could have this much energy so early in the day. “uh, yeah. apron’s over there,” you muttered, pointing toward the storage cabinet.
as he darted off to grab one, you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that this holiday season was about to get a lot more...complicated.
the next few days were nothing short of exhausting and it wasn’t because of the café rush.
it was him.
day one with sunoo was a test of patience.
he wasn’t just enthusiastic—he was relentless. he greeted every customer like an old friend, remembered their names and favorite drinks, and even started a suggestion box for “holiday improvements,” which was quickly overflowing with ideas.
on his second day, came the first incident. while you were preparing an espresso, sunoo decided to take matters into his own hands and “spread holiday cheer.” which apparently meant hanging garlands around the counter while you worked.
"could you not?" you finally snapped as a strand of tinsel landed on your shoulder.
"it’s festive!" he countered, grinning as he perched a tiny santa hat on the espresso machine. "doesn’t it make you feel jollier?"
you glared at him. "i’m plenty jolly."
he blinked innocently. "are you sure? because you’ve been frowning for…well, since i got here."
but it wasn’t just the decorations. sunoo had an uncanny ability to be everywhere at once. whether it was bringing you hot cocoa during your break (“it has marshmallows!”) or attempting to teach you his rendition of “jingle bells” while you prepped the next batch of cookies, he was always there.
“smile more!” he said one afternoon as you handed a cappuccino to a customer.
“i am smiling,” you replied through gritted teeth.
“that’s not a smile. that’s...a grimace,” he teased, leaning in with mock seriousness. “here, watch me.”
he turned to the next customer, flashing a grin so radiant it could have melted an iceberg. “welcome! isn’t it just a great day to treat yourself?”
the customer chuckled, clearly charmed. you, on the other hand, wanted to crawl under the counter and hide.
well yes, you begrudgingly had to admit that his presence had improved the café’s working tremendously. the customers loved him. he remembered names, guessed favorite drinks, and made people laugh. tips flowed into the jar like magic. but he was trying to ruin your plan of not appreciating the holiday season! and you were not going to let that happen.
but, by the end of the week, something shifted.
slowly—very slowly—you had started to tolerate him.
it wasn’t that he stopped being annoying. if anything, his energy seemed to double with each passing day. but somewhere between his absurd carol remixes and the way he handed out extra cookies to kids who looked like they’d been dragged to the café against their will, you found yourself less irritated.
not impressed. definitely not charmed(lies!). just...less annoyed.
but one question lingered at the back of your mind: why? why was he so happy? what made him light up like a human christmas tree every day?
you weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer. but as you caught him grinning at a regular customer who’d just handed him a homemade ornament, you couldn’t help but wonder.
the café was quiet as you flipped the sign to "closed" and started tidying up for the night. it had been a long day, and you couldn’t wait to finally go home.
just as you locked the register and reached for your coat, the bell above the door jingled. you turned, irritation already bubbling up.
“we’re closed,” you started, but your words faltered when you recognized the man standing there.
“y/n,” your ex-boyfriend said, his smirk as familiar as it was grating. he stepped inside, dressed in a tailored coat that screamed money and arrogance. god, you can’t believe you fell for someone like him as a teenager.
beside him stood a woman teetering on heels that seemed entirely impractical for the icy streets outside. her outfit was bold, to say the least, a mishmash of sequins and faux fur that seemed more suited for a nightclub than a quiet evening in a café.
“oh my gosh,” the girlfriend squealed, twirling a strand of platinum-blonde hair. “babe, is this the little place you were talking about? it’s, like, so...cute!”
your ex casually leaned against the counter you had just wiped, trying to look cool. “i told her about this café. thought we’d stop by, see if you were still here.”
still here? the condescension in his tone made your jaw clench.
“it’s nice to see you’re keeping busy,” he added, his eyes sweeping over you like he was assessing your worth.
you plastered on a polite smile, one you reserved for particularly rude customers. “we’re closed, actually. maybe come back tomorrow.”
“aw, don’t be like that,” he said smoothly, ignoring your words entirely. “i was just telling tiffany here about how we used to hang out all the time. she couldn’t believe it. right, tiff?”
tiffany nodded enthusiastically, chewing gum as she looked around the café. “totally. i mean, you’re, like, so brave for working here. i could never do customer service—ugh, people are just the worst, you know?”
you stared at her, unsure if she was trying to insult you or if she genuinely had no self-awareness.
“i’ve been doing amazing, in case you were wondering. just opened my own tech startup. big investors, huge growth potential. you know how it is—some of us were always meant to do big things.”
he gave you a pointed look, and you felt your jaw tighten.
“and of course, i’ve got tiffany now.” he draped an arm over his girlfriend’s shoulders, and she giggled, resting her manicured hand on his chest.
“uh-huh,” you said, folding your arms. “well, congrats. i need to finish closing, so if you don’t mind—”
“oh, don’t rush us,” tiffany said with a pout. “we’re just, like, so fascinated by this little place. did you decorate it yourself? it’s so quaint!”
before you could respond, the door opened again, and in walked sunoo, bundled up in his bright scarf, carrying a bag of cookies.
“there you are!” he said cheerfully, making a beeline for you. he barely glanced at your ex before sliding an arm around your shoulders, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “sorry i’m late, babe. got caught up picking these up for you.”
your ex straightened, his brows knitting together. “babe?”
sunoo turned to him, his smile wide. “oh, sorry, i didn’t realize you were talking to my girlfriend.”
the word “girlfriend” sent a jolt through you, but sunoo didn’t give you time to react. he extended a hand towards your ex. “i’m sunoo. and you are?”
“her ex-boyfriend,” he replied stiffly, clearly caught off guard.
“oh!” sunoo said, feigning surprise. “well, nice to meet you. guess you’re the one who didn’t see how amazing she is, huh?”
you blinked, your cheeks warming as sunoo turned to tiffany, giving her a polite nod before focusing back on your ex.
“you know, y/n’s been working so hard lately,” sunoo continued, his voice light but deliberate. “between helping out here and pursuing her corporate law degree, she’s just incredible. i mean, it’s not every day you meet someone with brains, ambition, and kindness all rolled into one.”
your ex’s confident smirk faltered, and tiffany’s chewing slowed as she looked at you with newfound confusion.
“she’s studying law?” tiffany asked, wide-eyed.
sunoo nodded, his smile unwavering. “yep. top of her class, too. honestly, i don’t know how she does it. i feel lucky just to be a part of her life.”
your ex opened his mouth, likely to retaliate, but sunoo wasn’t done.
“and she’s so good with people,” sunoo added, looking at you with a softness that made your heart skip a beat. “customers just adore her. i see it every day—her kindness and how much she cares about others. it’s inspiring, really.”
your ex looked like he’d swallowed a lemon, his girlfriend now staring at him with something akin to disappointment.
“and now,” sunoo said, turning back to you, “i think it’s time we head home, don’t you, sweetheart?”
before you could process what was happening, sunoo leaned in and kissed you. it wasn’t a quick peck, nor was it overly dramatic. it was soft, lingering just enough to leave your heart racing and your mind spinning.
when he pulled back, he smiled at you, completely unfazed. “let’s go.”
you nodded, your voice seemingly lost, and allowed him to guide you toward the back.
as soon as you were out of earshot, you whispered, “what the hell was that?”
“that,” he said, grinning, “was me helping you. you’re welcome.”
you wanted to argue, to scold him for his audacity, but instead, all you could do was feel the butterflies in your stomach.
sunoo, ever the cheerful enigma, simply winked at you before heading to the kitchen, leaving you wondering why you couldn’t stop smiling.
the next day at the café began like any other, the morning rush fading into a calm lull as the afternoon light filtered through the frosted windows. you stood behind the counter, idly wiping it down, the hum of soft café music mixing with the faint clinking of dishes being cleaned.
across from you, sunoo was in his usual element, drying a tray of mugs with an ease that felt almost theatrical. he hummed a festive tune under his breath, the kind of annoyingly catchy holiday song you couldn’t escape this time of year. unlike most people, though, he wasn’t out of tune—his voice was smooth, each note light and cheerful.
despite yourself, your eyes drifted toward him. it was hard not to watch the way he worked, his every movement quick yet deliberate. but what caught you the most wasn’t his efficiency—it was his smile.
sunoo had this way of smiling that was entirely his own. it wasn’t just polite or perfunctory; it was warm, genuine, and impossibly bright. whether it was an elderly regular ordering tea or the grumpiest customer throwing a tantrum over a latte, he treated everyone with the same sunny energy, as if he’d been waiting all day just to see them.
you barely noticed your cloth stalling on the counter as your gaze lingered on him. his lips curved up, eyes crinkling at the corners, his entire face lighting up in a way that could rival the café’s twinkling christmas lights.
“earth to y/n!”
his voice jolted you from your thoughts, and your head snapped up to see him standing there, a mug still in one hand, the other waving dramatically in front of your face.
“you’re staring,” he said with a knowing grin, leaning casually against the counter. his apron hung slightly askew, a splash of frothy milk smudged near the edge, but he didn’t seem to care.
“i was not staring,” you shot back, too quickly for your own good. the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed you, though, as you fumbled to sound indifferent. “i was zoning out.”
“sure you were,” he teased, his grin widening into something playful, yet somehow unbearably charming. “let me guess—you were thinking about me, huh?”
before you could even process a retort, sunoo moved. he stepped closer, his easy grin never wavering. instinctively, you leaned back, only for your spine to hit the counter behind you. the realization that you were cornered sent your heart into overdrive.
“w-what are you doing?” you stammered, your eyes darting up to meet his.
he was close now, too close. his arm came up, his hand braced against the counter next to your head, the air around you enveloping you in his mouthwatering scent of vanilla and coconut. his other hand still held the mug, but that didn’t stop your thoughts from spiraling. the way he leaned over you, his face mere inches from yours—it made your breath hitch. for one wild, utterly ridiculous moment, you thought he was about to kiss you(again?).
but then, with a smooth, almost nonchalant motion, he reached past you and grabbed a washcloth from the counter behind your shoulder.
“got it!” he announced cheerfully, pulling back and holding up the cloth like it was a prize.
you blinked, stunned into silence as your brain scrambled to catch up with reality.
sunoo tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “what? did you think i was gonna—” he paused, letting the suggestion hang in the air, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips.
“no!” you snapped, your voice cracking as you shoved past him to put space between you. “as if!”
his laugh was light, melodic, and thoroughly maddening as he turned back to the mugs, completely unbothered.
you busied yourself with refilling the napkin dispensers, determined to ignore the way your heart was still racing. yet as much as you wanted to brush the whole thing off, you couldn’t help the small, traitorous smile tugging at your lips. and you hated that somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if sunoo had caught it.
later that evening, you found yourself at the door, keys in hand, ready to lock up. the café was quiet, the streets outside eerily calm. the cold had settled in deeper now, a biting wind nipping at your fingers even through your gloves.
as you pulled the door shut and turned the key in the lock, a figure caught your eye. sunoo was leaning casually against the lamppost just outside, his breath visible in small puffs of condensation.
“what are you still doing here?” you asked, wrapping your arms around yourself to stave off the chill.
he straightened, brushing some snow off his coat. “wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
you froze for a moment, caught completely off guard. “you didn’t have to do that,” you said, though your voice was softer than usual, your usual bite missing.
“i know,” he replied with a shrug, his tone light, almost nonchalant. “but i wanted to.”
the words hung in the air between you, heavier than they should have been. his sincerity was disarming, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. the light from the streetlamp cast a faint golden glow on his face, catching the warmth in his eyes and the faint pink dusting his cheeks from the cold.
your chest tightened, the realization of how kind he was settling in. it wasn’t a grand gesture, but it felt significant. genuine.
you wondered if he could hear the pounding of your heart in the quiet night, loud and insistent as it was.
“thanks,” you mumbled after a beat, unable to meet his gaze for too long.
he smiled at you, soft and easy. “anytime.”
as you both started walking toward your respective homes, you couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. there was something about sunoo that you couldn’t quite put your finger on—a warmth that you hadn’t noticed before but suddenly seemed impossible to ignore.
the nightly walks home had become a routine you hadn’t quite agreed to but couldn’t seem to stop either. sunoo, had decided somewhere along the line that you needed a chaperone to make it home safely through the wintry streets. you’d grumbled about it at first, muttering under your breath about his unnecessary chivalry, but over time, you’d grown to expect the sight of him waiting outside the café after closing.
of course, you hadn’t told him that. no, you preferred to keep up your facade of mild annoyance, pretending not to notice how his presence made the cold nights feel a little less lonely.
sunoo, naturally, was undeterred by your grumpiness. if anything, it seemed to fuel his determination to get you into the holiday spirit. one evening, as he walked beside you, humming yet another cheerful christmas tune, he turned to you with a sudden burst of excitement.
“y/n, i just had the best idea!”
you glanced at him warily, already regretting whatever was about to come out of his mouth. “do i even want to know?”
“yes, you do!” he insisted, his grin as bright as the fairy lights strung across the street. “i’m going to teach you my famous christmas cookie recipe!”
you stopped in your tracks, giving him an incredulous look. “your famous christmas cookie recipe? who exactly considers it famous?”
“everyone who’s ever tasted them,” he replied, puffing out his chest dramatically. “they’re a holiday masterpiece.”
you couldn’t stop the amused huff that escaped you, though you quickly masked it with a roll of your eyes. “and why, exactly, do i need to learn this ‘masterpiece’ recipe?”
“because,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “you need some christmas cheer in your life, and nothing says cheer like baking cookies with me.”
you groaned, already feeling your resolve weakening under his hopeful gaze. “fine,” you muttered, trying to sound begrudging. “but only because i’m curious if they’re actually as good as you claim.”
his cheer was instantaneous. “you won’t regret it!”
the next day, sunoo dragged you to the grocery store and. you trailed behind him, half-heartedly protesting whenever he added something to the cart that wasn’t on the list.
“you’re buying way too much butter,” you pointed out as he tossed another block into the cart.
“you can never have too much butter when it comes to cookies,” he said with a sage nod.
he practically bounced beside you, a walking ball of excitement, clutching a carefully curated shopping list for his "famous" christmas cookies.
“y/n, we need to decide on the chocolate chips,” he said, holding up two bags like they were precious artifacts. “semi-sweet or dark? this is critical.”
you shrugged nonchalantly, feigning disinterest. “it’s your recipe, gordon ramsay. pick whatever.”
he pouted dramatically, clutching his chest. “gordon ramsay? that’s a little harsh. i’m more of a... what’s the name of that really cheerful baker on tv? you know, the one who smiles a lot?”
“sounds like your spirit animal,” you muttered under your breath, though a faint smirk tugged at your lips.
while he deliberated between chocolate options with the intensity of someone defusing a bomb, you wandered off to grab some sugar. as you made your way back toward the cart, a voice called your name.
“y/n? is that really you?”
you turned to find yourself face-to-face with an old high school friend. their warm smile was familiar, even if their fashion choices now had taken a complete 180.
“oh my god, it’s been forever!” they said, pulling you into a quick hug. “how have you been?”
you exchanged pleasantries, updating each other on work and uni life. it was nice, catching up after so long, until their eyes flicked past you.
“wait, who’s that?” they asked, nodding toward sunoo, who was now examining a bottle of vanilla extract like it held the secrets of the universe.
“oh, him?” you said casually, glancing over your shoulder. “that’s just sunoo.”
they raised an eyebrow, their smirk teasing. “just sunoo? he looks like he’s your boyfriend or something.”
“what? no, no,” you said quickly, a little too loudly. “sunoo’s not my boyfriend. god, no. he’s just my coworker. we work at my mom’s café. that’s all.”
your friend gave you a knowing look, the kind that made your cheeks heat. “coworker, huh? he’s got major boyfriend energy. seems sweet.”
“sweet?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “he’s more like a hyperactive puppy. always smiling, always humming, always doing something. it’s exhausting.”
your friend chuckled, clearly enjoying your exasperation.
“and don’t even get me started on his christmas obsession,” you continued, rolling your eyes for effect. “he’s like a walking hallmark movie. i swear, if he could marry a christmas tree, he’d probably do it and throw a wedding with carolers.”
your friend burst out laughing, egging you on. “does he sing christmas songs all the time too?”
“constantly,” you replied with mock suffering. “if i hear ‘jingle bells’ one more time, i’m going to lose it. it’s like he’s got a jukebox in his head that’s stuck on holiday mode.”
the two of you laughed, exchanging more exaggerated and judgmental quips about sunoo’s overly cheerful demeanor. but then, as your laughter faded, you caught sight of something—or rather, someone—out of the corner of your eye.
sunoo was standing there, a bag of flour in one arm and a bottle of vanilla extract in the other. his bright smile, the one you’d always teased him for, was gone. in its place was an expression you’d never seen on him before—hurt, raw and unguarded.
“sunoo,” you started, your voice weak and unsure.
he blinked, his eyes darting between you and your friend, as though piecing together everything he’d just overheard. then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked away, his steps brisk and unsteady.
“wait, sunoo—” you took a step toward him, but he didn’t stop, his figure disappearing around the corner.
your friend shifted awkwardly beside you. “uh... i think i’ll let you handle that. good luck.” they offered an apologetic smile before retreating, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.
the guilt hit you like a freight train. you replayed every word you’d said, each one now twisting like a knife. you hadn’t meant to be cruel, not really, but hearing it all in retrospect made you wince.
you stood there in the middle of the aisle, the festive chaos of the store blurring around you, and all you could think about was the devastated look on sunoo’s face. for someone who always wore his heart on his sleeve, you’d just managed to break it without even trying.
and now, you had no idea how to fix it.
the café felt colder than usual, and it had nothing to do with the weather. sunoo, the walking ray of sunshine who once filled every corner with warmth and holiday cheer, had dimmed entirely. it started the day after the grocery store incident. he no longer greeted you with his annoyingly bright smile or playfully nudged you when you were grumbling about the customers. instead, he was polite—frigidly so.
“good morning,” you said tentatively as you walked in for your shift.
“morning,” he replied without looking up from the espresso machine, his tone flat.
no teasing. no humming. not even a sarcastic remark about you being late again. just a curt acknowledgment, followed by silence.
you couldn’t deny it—it stung. you thought back to the way he used to coax reluctant smiles from customers, how he would hum festive tunes so loudly you’d complain, and how his energy made the café feel like a holiday movie set. now, he did his job mechanically, avoiding unnecessary conversation with you and barely engaging with anyone else.
the decorations he had painstakingly hung felt like they belonged to a different world. they no longer carried the magic they once did.
at first, you told yourself this was what you wanted—a quiet, sunoo-free workspace where you could brood in peace. but it wasn’t peace you felt. it was guilt. crushing, suffocating guilt.
even though sunoo seemed hellbent on giving you the cold shoulder, he still made sure you reached home safely. your evening walks were not the same anymore, with him trailing a few metres behind you instead of him usually sticking right to your side. you couldn’t help but feel even worse. even after you had been inconsiderate about his feelings, he still cared.
one day, during a rare lull, you approached him, the desire to fix things clawing at your chest. you were generally awkward with apologies but you had to try your best. he was wiping down the counter with that same forced nonchalance, eyes focused on the towel, not sparing you even a glance.
“sunoo,” you started, your voice small, breaking the silence between you. “i… i wanted to say sorry about what happened. i didn’t mean—”
“it’s fine,” he interrupted, finally looking up with an expression that was almost unreadable. “don’t worry about it.”
but you could tell it wasn’t fine. it wasn’t fine at all. the tension in his jaw, the lack of the usual warmth in his eyes—it was all proof that you had hurt him more than you realised.
that afternoon, a customer—a girl around your age—came in and ordered a latte. she was attractive, dressed in trendy winter clothes, her hair a perfect cascade of curls despite the weather. you barely registered her order, too preoccupied with the way sunoo’s demeanor had shifted as soon as she walked up. he leaned over the counter with a smile that was just a touch more dazzling than usual, his eyes bright with that cheerful, carefree light you hadn’t seen in days.
“oh, you’re so good at making latte art!” she said with a little laugh, eyes wide as she watched him.
sunoo chuckled, a sound that came so easily, so naturally, it made something sour twist in your stomach. “thanks. i’ve had a lot of practice. what’s your favorite design?”
“oh, anything cute! maybe a heart?”
you clenched your jaw. the way he laughed, the way he looked at her, it was like the last few days had never happened. he was back to being the sunoo who had brightened every corner of the café, the same sunoo you’d ignored and pushed away. a storm of irritation and something deeper bubbled inside you.
you couldn’t help yourself. marching over, you interrupted their conversation, “sunoo, the tables need wiping. i’ll finish this order,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.
he looked at you, his smile fading as quickly as it had come. for a moment, you thought he might argue, but instead, he stepped back and handed you the steaming cup. “sure,” he said quietly, walking away without another word.
the customer looked at you, slightly startled, but you avoided her gaze, focusing on finishing the latte art. your hand trembled slightly as you poured the milk, frustrated at yourself for the way your emotions had spiraled out of control.
this wasn’t like you. you weren’t the type to get jealous, especially not over someone like sunoo, who you’d spent weeks convincing yourself was nothing more than a coworker.
the silence that followed felt deafening, and the rest of the shift passed in a haze. every time you looked at him, he looked away. every time you spoke to him, he responded with clipped, polite words, his voice void of warmth. he was now a shadow of the sunoo you had known, and it was your fault.
and the worst part? you missed it. you missed him.
every day, the weight of your guilt grew heavier, and with it, the realization that you hadn’t just been cruel—you’d hurt someone who had only ever tried to brighten your world.
you wanted to fix things, but you didn’t know how. every attempt to reach out was met with silence, and every smile he gave someone else felt like another nail in the coffin of what you had ruined.
the festive tunes in the café continued to play, but now, they felt hollow, much like the ache in your chest.
that night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the ache of regret clawing at your chest. the guilt was like an icy chain around your ribs, squeezing tighter with every passing minute. you could still picture the smile he had given the girl, so carefree, so genuine, and the way he had walked away from you, a hint of defeat in his posture.
the next day, he was back to avoiding you, treating you like a stranger he’d once known. you watched, helpless, as he poured that same energy into talking to customers, chatting with people as if he hadn’t lost himself in the process. it hurt more than you thought it could.
the coldness extended past the café. sunoo’s laughter seemed to be reserved for everyone but you, and you watched as the cheerful light he carried dimmed even further. it made you wonder if you had lost something you didn’t even know you wanted.
the day had been relentless. the café buzzed from the early hours with orders flying in and customers bustling through, each interaction adding another layer to your growing frustration. by mid-afternoon, you were running on fumes, barely holding it together as the weight of responsibility pressed down on you.
it wasn’t just today. it had been like this for weeks. ever since your mom insisted you stay back during winter break to help with the café, it felt like you’d been drowning in expectations. and somehow, the family seemed perfectly content to let you struggle.
you caught sight of your younger siblings in the corner booth, lounging with their phones in hand, sharing quiet laughs. the image stung. while you juggled orders, cleaned counters, and played the perfect hostess, they enjoyed carefree moments, untouched by the demands that seemed to fall squarely on your shoulders.
by the time you escaped to the back room, your patience was hanging by a thread. you slammed a tray of used mugs onto the counter harder than you meant to, and the sharp clang echoed in the small space.
“do you have to make such a racket?” your mom’s voice came from behind you. she stepped into the room, her hands busy with a clipboard, completely unfazed by your obvious distress.
your control snapped. “maybe if someone else around here actually helped me, i wouldn’t have to,” you retorted, spinning around to face her.
she paused, her eyes narrowing. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“it means i’m exhausted, mom,” you shot back, the words tumbling out in a rush. “i’m doing everything—running the counter, cleaning up, dealing with customers—and for what? so everyone else can just sit back and relax?”
“don’t be dramatic,” she said, her tone clipped. “i’ve been working just as much as you.”
you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “are you serious right now? i haven’t seen you take a single order all day. and don’t even get me started on them,” you gestured toward the café, where your siblings were still parked, oblivious to the world around them. “they get to sit around doing nothing while i’m running myself into the ground.”
“they’re younger,” your mom said flatly. “you’re the oldest. you should know better by now.”
the words cut deep, sharper than you expected. “so what? that means i don’t get to have a life? i don’t get to enjoy a break like everyone else?” your voice wavered, anger and hurt intertwining. “you expect me to just give and give, and no one cares about what i need.”
“stop being so ungrateful and selfish all the time,” she snapped, her eyes hardening. “this is your family. you do what’s necessary.”
her words hit like a physical blow, and you staggered back a step, the air knocked out of you. selfish? after everything you’d done?
she didn’t wait for a response, brushing past you and leaving the room without a backward glance.
the silence that followed was suffocating. you stood frozen, your chest heaving as the tears burned behind your eyes. you tried to fight them, but the weight of her words, of everything, was too much.
your legs gave out, and you sank to the cold floor, pulling your knees to your chest as the first sob broke free. it came in waves, uncontrollable and raw, until you buried your face in your arms, muffling the sound.
you weren’t sure how long you stayed like that. time seemed to blur, your thoughts spiraling in the same vicious cycle of frustration and hurt. the ache in your chest felt unbearable, like a storm raging inside with no signs of clearing.
then, faintly, you heard footsteps. they stopped near you, hesitating, before a familiar voice called softly, “y/n?”
you didn’t look up. you couldn’t. but then you felt it—a warm, steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed.
when you finally lifted your head, your tear-filled eyes met sunoo’s. his usual brightness was dimmed, replaced with an expression so soft and concerned that it made your chest tighten all over again.
he didn’t say anything at first, just crouched down beside you. then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. the action was gentle, almost hesitant, but as soon as you felt the warmth of his embrace, you broke all over again.
your fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt, desperate for something solid as the tears came harder. “i’m so tired,” you whispered against his chest, your voice cracking.
“i know,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “i know.”
his hand moved to your back, rubbing slow circles that seemed to ease the ache just a little. he smelled his signature scent of vanilla and coconut, a scent so comforting it made you lean into him further, seeking out the solace he offered.
sunoo didn’t let go. not when your tears soaked into his shirt, not when your breath hitched as you tried to form words between sobs. he stayed there, holding you, his warmth anchoring you in a way you hadn’t realized you craved.
eventually, the tears slowed, leaving you shuddering against him. he didn’t rush you or ask questions, just kept his hand moving in those soothing circles on your back, his presence steady and unwavering. it was only when your breathing evened out that he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
“do you want to talk about it?”
for a moment, you hesitated. but then, the weight of everything—the years of bottled-up frustration, resentment, and heartache—came spilling out.
“it’s just… it’s so much,” you began, your voice hoarse from crying. “being the oldest, it’s like… it’s like my life stopped being mine the moment dad left.”
sunoo’s hand stilled for a second, then resumed its comforting rhythm, encouraging you to continue.
you sniffled, swiping at your damp cheeks. “he just—he ran off with some rich woman when i was sixteen, like we didn’t matter to him at all. mom was devastated, and suddenly, it felt like i had to grow up overnight. taking care of my siblings, helping with the café, picking up the pieces he left behind…” your voice cracked, and you bit your lip, trying to hold it together.
“and now it’s like nothing’s changed,” you went on, your words tumbling out faster. “mom still leans on me for everything. the café, the house, the family—it’s always me. i can’t even remember the last time i did something just for myself.”
sunoo didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to fill the silence with empty reassurances. he just listened, his gaze fixed on you with such unwavering focus that it made your chest ache in a different way.
“and today—today was just the last straw,” you admitted, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand. “i feel like i’m suffocating, sunoo. like no matter how much i give, it’s never enough. and it’s so… so lonely.”
you looked away, ashamed of your outburst, but his arms tightened around you. “you’re not alone,” he said softly, his voice steady. “not anymore.”
that simple promise unraveled something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “and i’m sorry. for everything. for being so mean to you, for judging you when i didn’t even know you, for acting like a total brat.”
sunoo blinked, his expression softening even further, but you didn’t let him speak yet. “i know i’ve been awful,” you continued, your words spilling over each other in a frantic rush. “and you’ve been nothing but kind, and here i am, all snotty and messy and—”
“y/n,” he interrupted gently, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
“and i probably look terrible right now,” you rambled on, ignoring his soft chuckle. “like, who wants to deal with this?” you gestured vaguely to your tear-streaked face and disheveled appearance.
“y/n,” he said again, a little firmer this time, his hand brushing against your cheek.
you froze, finally meeting his eyes. they were impossibly warm, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but that made your breath catch all the same.
“you’re perfect,” he said simply, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear.
and then, before you could process his words, he leaned in and kissed you.
it was soft at first, hesitant, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. but when you didn’t—when you found yourself leaning into him instead—it deepened, his lips moving against yours with a warmth that chased away every lingering shadow of doubt and hurt.
you melted into him, your hands clutching the front of his shirt as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had felt so unsteady. the kiss was everything you didn’t know you needed—comforting, electrifying, and completely disarming all at once.
when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his breath mingling with your own in the quiet of the room.
“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted, a shy smile tugging at his lips.
you stared at him, still dazed, your fingers brushing your lips as if trying to hold onto the feeling. “you… you kissed me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“i did,” he said, his smile growing. “and if i had known it would shut you up, i might’ve done it sooner.”
a laugh bubbled up in your chest despite yourself, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the heaviness inside you lifted.
“i don’t think i deserve you, sunoo,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to the floor.
he tilted your chin up gently, his expression earnest. “then it’s a good thing i get to decide that, isn’t it?”
and just like that, with sunoo’s arms still wrapped around you and the lingering warmth of his kiss, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place.
the next morning, you found yourself standing outside the café, shivering in the early chill. snow blanketed the ground, sparkling under the soft glow of the streetlights. the café wasn’t open yet, and you were earlier than usual, clutching a small box in your hands. the carefully wrapped gift felt heavier than it should, the weight of nerves pressing down on you.
inside the box was a collection of little things that reminded you of sunoo: a cheerful snowman mug, a candle that smelled like warm sugar cookies, and a pair of bright green fuzzy mittens. they weren’t much, but they were chosen with care—a way to apologise properly, to show him you understood now just how much he meant to you.
the quiet street stretched around you, peaceful but lonely. you rocked back and forth on your heels, trying to shake off the morning cold and the knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach. what if he didn’t accept the gift? what if he was still upset?
before you could spiral further, you heard footsteps crunching in the snow. turning, you saw him walking toward you, his breath visible in the frosty air. he wasn’t wearing his usual bright smile, but the sight of him was enough to make your chest ache.
“y/n?” he called out, stopping a few steps away. “what are you doing here so early?”
“i, uh…” you hesitated, holding the box tighter. “i wanted to see you.”
his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. “really?”
wordlessly, you held the gift out to him, your breath hitching as he stared at it. slowly, he reached out and took it, his fingers brushing yours.
“what’s this?” he asked, his tone soft.
“an apology,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. “for everything. for being mean to you, for not appreciating you sooner, for—just open it.”
sunoo glanced at you, then down at the box. he tugged the ribbon loose and carefully peeled back the paper, his movements deliberate. when he saw the contents, his expression shifted, his eyes widening as a genuine smile began to spread across his face.
“you got me mittens?” he exclaimed, holding them up like they were a treasure. “and this mug—it’s so cute! and a candle?” he brought it to his nose and sniffed, his grin widening even more. “it smells amazing!”
the brightness in his reaction melted the last of your nerves, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.
“i thought they’d suit you,” you said quietly, feeling a little silly now but also oddly proud.
“suit me?” he repeated, his tone playful. “y/n, this is the most thoughtful gift anyone’s given me in a long time.”
before you could react, he closed the distance between you in one swift motion.
“wait—sunoo!”
but he didn’t wait. he scooped you up effortlessly, spinning you around in the snow. the world blurred for a moment, the sound of your surprised laugh ringing out as he twirled you like you weighed nothing at all.
“put me down!” you cried, though your laughter betrayed any real protest.
“not until you promise you’ll stop being so hard on yourself,” he said, his voice full of warmth and mischief.
“okay, okay! i promise!”
he set you down at last, but your balance wavered, and the two of you tumbled into the snow together, a heap of giggles and cold breaths.
“you’re impossible,” you muttered, brushing snow off your coat.
“impossible to stay mad at, right?” he teased, propping himself up on one elbow beside you. his grin was as dazzling as ever, and it was contagious.
you rolled your eyes, but your heart felt lighter than it had in days. “yeah, yeah. don’t let it go to your head, sunoo.”
“too late,” he quipped, tossing a handful of snow at you.
what followed was an impromptu snowball fight that left both of you breathless, your cheeks pink from the cold and the laughter. by the time the café was ready to open, you’d built a lopsided snowman and shared stories over hot cocoa.
as you sat across from him, watching the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, you realized something else had thawed—your carefully guarded heart. sunoo had done more than bring holiday cheer into your life; he’d brought a warmth you hadn’t known you were missing.
over the next few days, things between you and sunoo took on a rhythm you hadn’t expected. there was no big moment when it all changed, no grand confessions. it just sort of happened. in the middle of the busy café, amidst the noise of espresso machines and the chatter of customers, the two of you found your own little world, filled with unspoken understanding and a quiet kind of comfort.
despite your shy nature, sunoo was anything but reserved. he was touchy, cuddly, and so unapologetically confident in his affection that it left you flustered at least twice an hour.
one morning, you were at the counter, meticulously preparing an intricate coffee order for a regular. concentrating on the froth, you didn’t even hear him approach.
suddenly, his arms slipped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. the warmth of his body against your back startled you, and you nearly dropped the milk frother.
“good morning to you, too,” he murmured softly near your ear, his voice low and teasing.
“sunoo,” you hissed, your cheeks burning as you glanced around the café. thankfully, it was mostly empty, save for the regular who seemed too engrossed in their phone to notice. “what are you doing?”
“giving my girlfriend some love,” he said matter-of-factly, resting his chin on your shoulder. his hold on you was secure but gentle, and you couldn’t ignore how solid he felt.
your brain scrambled as you became hyper-aware of every point of contact—the way his hands fit around your waist, the way his sweater couldn’t completely hide the firmness of his chest and arms.
you tried to maintain your composure, focusing on pouring the steamed milk into the cup. “you’re distracting me,” you mumbled, your voice shakier than you’d intended.
“oh?” his tone was pure mischief now, and you could practically hear the grin on his face. “didn’t know i had that kind of effect on you, y/n.”
“stop,” you groaned, half-horrified and half-flustered, trying to wriggle free from his hold.
but he just tightened his arms slightly, chuckling. “not a chance. you’re cute when you’re flustered.”
your heart pounded in your chest as you finished the order, sunoo still clinging to you like a human koala. when you finally handed the coffee to the customer, you turned to him with an exasperated glare.
“happy now?” you said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.
“very,” he replied, his bright smile disarming you completely.
moments like these became a regular occurrence. sunoo had no concept of personal space, especially when it came to you, and he seemed to revel in how easily he could fluster you. whether it was sneaking up behind you to steal a kiss on your cheek while you were stocking shelves, lacing your fingers together under the table during your lunch break, or leaning in close just to whisper something playful and teasing—he was unabashedly, wholeheartedly himself.
at first, you didn’t know how to handle it. the warmth of his attention made you feel vulnerable, exposed in a way you hadn’t expected. but it also made you feel… cherished, like you were the only person in his world.
one afternoon, you were wiping down tables when he plopped down in a chair nearby, resting his chin in his hands as he watched you.
“what are you staring at now?” you asked, glancing at him over your shoulder.
“my beautiful girlfriend,” he said with a grin so sincere it made your chest ache.
you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “you’re impossible.”
“and yet, you’re still with me.”
despite your best efforts to stay composed, sunoo always managed to draw out the softer, shyer side of you. and though it terrified you to be so open, so seen, it also filled you with a kind of warmth you’d never known before—like stepping into the sunlight after a long winter.
the warm light of sunoo’s home bathed the living room in a soft glow, creating a sense of comfort that seemed almost too perfect. the scent of cinnamon and roasted vegetables filled the air, mingling with the gentle hum of christmas carols playing in the background. laughter and the sound of clinking glasses bubbled up around you, and it was hard to believe you were even there, in this place that felt so full of warmth and life.
sunoo had invited you and your mother to an early christmas dinner at his house a few days ago. you had come alone, expecting your mom to stay home after the fight you’d had earlier that week. she’d been sharp with her words, and you’d spent the past few days wrapped in the solitude of your thoughts, wondering if things would ever be the same between you two. but now, as you glanced around at the smiling faces, the feel of this home settled into your chest in a way that was almost foreign, yet achingly familiar.
sunoo’s family, full of kindness and easygoing laughter, was everything that you’d never had. being the youngest child had given sunoo a softness that showed in everything he did—the way he laughed too loudly, the way he clapped his hands when he was excited, the way he instinctively reached for your hand when he wanted to share a joke. it was clear that love had been poured into him without question, without the burden of responsibility or guilt.
the warmth of that realisation grew inside you as dinner was served. sunoo’s father sat at the head of the table, telling stories that made everyone chuckle, while his mother bustled around, her hands full of serving spoons and platters. the room was a symphony of family, love, and shared history. it made you long for that kind of life, for that kind of belonging.
just as you were helping pass a dish of mashed potatoes, the doorbell chimed. sunoo, who had been sitting next to you, turned to look at you with a smile. “can you get that, y/n?”
you nodded, a little confused, and stood up, making your way to the front door. when you opened it, your eyes widened in surprise. there, standing in the cool night air with a basket of homemade goodies balanced in her arms, was your mom.
“mom?” you said, voice catching. she looked as surprised to see you as you were to see her, eyes wide and a little uncertain. but then she took a deep breath, stepping into the house with an air of resolve.
“hello, y/n,” she said, offering a soft smile that reached her eyes. she turned to the room beyond, where sunoo’s family was looking at her with curiosity. “merry christmas, everyone,” she said warmly, her voice more steady than you’d expected.
sunoo’s mother, surprised at the unexpected guest, beamed as she ushered her in. “merry christmas! we’re so glad you came.”
you stood there, feeling a flutter of hope. your mom walked past you, her eyes meeting yours for a brief moment as if to say, can we talk? you nodded, your heart pounding as she led you away from the bustling room.
she took you to a corner by the window, where the soft light from outside fell on both of you, mingling with the glow of the christmas tree. for a moment, neither of you spoke. you heard the sounds of laughter in the other room—the clinking of glasses, sunoo’s voice as he said something that made everyone laugh.
finally, your mom broke the silence. “y/n, i’ve been thinking a lot about us, and how i’ve let you down. when your dad left, i was lost, and i leaned on you for strength when you were just a kid yourself. i didn’t see how it affected you; i only saw my own pain. i’m so sorry for making you feel like you had to carry everything alone.”
her voice cracked, and she reached out, pulling you into a hug. you let yourself melt into her embrace, the weight of years of resentment and unspoken words finally falling away. a tear escaped, then another, as you let yourself feel everything you hadn’t allowed yourself to before—the hurt, the longing, and the relief.
“i’m sorry too, mom,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i didn’t know how to say it, but i needed you to know i was scared. i was so scared of turning out like… like everything i didn’t want.”
she pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes glistening. “you’re not like that, y/n. you’re everything i could have hoped for, and more. i love you.”
“i love you too,” you said, your voice finally steady, the words feeling right and true. the basket of treats she’d brought had slipped from her grasp, forgotten as you both shared this moment that seemed to heal everything at once.
there was a noise from behind you—a soft cough. sunoo stood at the end of the hallway, a warm smile on his face. his eyes met yours and then shifted to your mom, who was still holding you close.
“everything okay?” he asked, voice soft.
you nodded, a tiny smile breaking through your tears. “yeah, everything’s perfect.”
sunoo stepped forward, pulling you into a hug that felt like the last piece of the puzzle falling into place. it felt like everything was right, and the past had been forgiven, making way for something better.
as the sound of laughter swelled behind you, you knew that this was a new beginning. and in that moment, you felt loved, not just by sunoo but by the family you had always dreamed of, and by the one that was learning to be there for you, piece by piece.
BONUS SCENE!
it’s christmas morning, and for once, the café is closed. you wake up to a rare, quiet morning, the kind that feels like it could stretch on forever. snow blankets the world outside, muffling every sound and adding a serene glow to the sky.
just as you’re about to head downstairs, you hear the faint sound of shuffling outside your front door. curiosity piqued, you open it to find a very familiar figure standing there, bundled up in a bright scarf and holding a giant thermos. sunoo grins up at you, cheeks pink from the cold, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“merry christmas!” he chirps, holding up the thermos.
you stare at him, confused but already smiling. “sunoo, what are you doing here? shouldn’t you be with your family?”
he shrugs, his grin never faltering. “already had breakfast with them. besides, i wanted to see you.”
your heart does a little flip at his words, and before you can respond, he’s nudging past you, making his way into the living room like he’s lived here his whole life.
“wait,” you say, following him. “what’s in the thermos?”
“patience,” he says, wagging a finger at you. he sets the thermos down on the coffee table, pulling out two mugs he somehow managed to balance in his coat pocket. “sit.”
you reluctantly sink into the couch, watching as he pours steaming hot chocolate into both mugs. he even pulls out a tiny bag of marshmallows, which makes you laugh. “you’re ridiculous,” you mutter.
“and you love it,” he retorts, passing you a mug before plopping down next to you, so close that your knees bump.
the two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, sipping the hot chocolate as the snow falls outside. you catch yourself stealing glances at him—at the way his lashes frame his eyes, the way his nose scrunches up when he takes a particularly hot sip.
as you’re lost in thought, sunoo suddenly turns to you, catching you mid-stare. “what?” he asks, his tone playful but soft.
“nothing,” you say quickly, your cheeks warming.
he leans closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “were you admiring me?”
“don’t flatter yourself,” you say, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.
sunoo laughs, setting his mug down before reaching out to tug the edge of the blanket draped over your shoulders. “come here,” he says, pulling you closer until you’re tucked against his side.
“you’re so bossy,” you mumble, but you don’t resist, letting your head rest on his shoulder.
“only for you,” he replies, pressing a light kiss to your hair.
you look up at him, something warm and fluttery building in your chest. his gaze drops to your lips for just a second, and your breath catches. before you can overthink it, sunoo leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss so sweet and gentle it feels like a snowflake melting on your skin.
when he pulls back, his eyes search yours, a soft smile spreading across his face. “merry christmas, y/n,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
“merry christmas,” you reply, your voice shaky but your heart steady.
he grins and presses his forehead to yours, his fingers playing with the hem of the blanket. “so, do i get a thank you for the hot chocolate and the kiss, or…?”
you laugh, swatting his arm lightly. “don’t push your luck.”
but when he leans back and pulls you closer, you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.
𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr
˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱
perm taglist: @soobnuuy @senascoooop @moafloribunda @lunalovesstories
@firstclassjaylee @levandright @fancypeacepersona @mirouie
@gaonashi @firstclassjaylee @kkamismom12
#౨ৎ 𝓐dy writes🪄#en-diaries#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen oneshots#enhypen fics#enhypen x reader#sunoo#kim sunoo#sunoo x reader#sunoo imagines#sunoo fics#sunoo oneshots#kpop fics#enhypen christmas au#sunoo christmas au#christmas fic
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We need more Hanukkah movies/specials. Real ones, not reskinned Hallmark movies. The only ones I can think of are:
A Rugrats Chanukah - a classic for us 90s kids.
Lamb Chop's Special Chanukah- I bet your grandparents had a copy on VHS.
Full Court Miracle - actually a really enjoyable Disney Channel Original Movie and one of two "basketball+ethnic holiday" movies they made, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.
Eight Crazy Nights - no further comment
What, we couldn't even get to eight movies? We somehow control the entertainment industry and the best we could do is two specials, a TV movie, and a single theatrical release between 1995 and 2003?
I mean sure this plays nicely into my theory that the 90s were an unparalleled time of normalized (i.e. not gawking) Jewish visibility in US media that we have not seen since... but it doesn't have to be! The era of streaming and nonstop content means there has to be at least one desperate coked-out executive who'll throw money at us just to get content to push for the holidays.
You can have this one for free (just do a special thanks in the credits everyone will skip): Hanukkah, Chanukah, Chanuka! A spelling bee + Hanukkah movie.
#jumblr#judaism#jewblr#happy hanukkah#hanukkah#chanukah#how many more spelling variations can I think up?#chanukkah#hanukah#chanuka
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hankcon but it’s a hallmark holiday special where they’re forced to endure every melodramatic and contrived trope under the sun. spoilers!!!!! they kiss at the end
I took part in the Hankcon Advent Calendar event for 2024!! Thank you @connor-sent-by-cyberlife for running the event ❄️🎄⛷️
Happy holidays!!!
#Hank owns a vintage neon 80s ski jacket and doesn’t know how to ski. what about it.#hankcon#dbh#detroit become human#dbh fanart#detroit become human fanart#conhank#hank x connor#dbh connor#dbh hank#detroit become human connor#connor rk800#detroit become human hank#hank anderson#noodle art#hankcon advent calendar 2024#hankconadvent24
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A New Tradition
Summary: You wanted to start a new tradition this Christmas by opening one gift early...and you both picked the right gift.
Pairings: boyfriend!Joe Burrow x gifrlfriend!reader
Warnings: Cheesy gifts and conversation, some fluffy Christmas content
Note: Hi everyone! Sorry for the lack of content recently, work was crazy with the holidays. I'm hoping to figure out a posting schedule for the new year. Enjoy this late Christmas post requested by this lovely anon. Better late than never, hope you enjoy! Happy gamedey!
Word Count: 2.3k
Check out my Masterlist here!
Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 @hellsingalucard18 Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!
It was Christmas Eve, and the snow was gently falling outside, blanketing the world in a quiet, peaceful stillness. The winter wasn’t exactly your favorite time of year, but it was something you had grown more fond of since you and Joe had gotten together. You’d spent the afternoon in the kitchen, baking cookies together (though Joe mostly just ate the dough), and now you were getting ready to settle on the couch, mugs of hot cocoa in hand with Joe looking for a Christmas movie to play. Watching the snow slowly fall outside of your living room window brought you back to that night, the memories flooding back in of how your relationship had started.
You and Joe had started to grow closer at the beginning of the Bengal’s season a few years back, with Joe officially asking you to be his girlfriend shortly after Christmas. The 27th to be exact. He had an entire date planned out at this cute little cafe outside of the city in hopes for some type of reprieve from the usual spotlight and prying eyes. Joe wanted to keep things light and low pressure, fearing he would mess things up with you if he over-thought too much about it. The date went perfect, constant banter back and forth between you two with laughs and gentle touches. His humor and smile had you swooning.
You guys took a walk around the area after finishing up, taking in the lights that decorated the streets. The snow was lightly falling, making the whole scene in front of you feel like something out of one of those Hallmark movies. It was under the mistletoe at one of the decorated sidestreets where Joe had asked you to be his girlfriend, sealing your exclusivity with a kiss you think back on to this day. Since then, it has made one of your favorite holidays that much more special in your eyes.
After a few years together, you decided to get your own place and work towards starting your own life together. This would be your first Christmas together in your home, having spent the time meticulously decorating it to your liking with Joe’s help. It had the perfect balance of cozy and comfort, two things you strived for in your shared space at all times. With the hectic nature of Joe’s job, it was nice to have this space together where the two of you could relax and unwind after a long day.
Joe pulled you out of your thoughts and back into the moment as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you. A small smile played on your lips at how perfect this man was, knowing he would do anything to make you feel loved.
“What’s on your mind?” Joe asked and he peppered a few light kisses along your neck, pulling you closer to his chest. You felt a soft blush rise to your cheeks before you spoke.
“I was just thinking back to our first date and how far we’ve come since then” you side, turning to face him while remaining in his arms.
“I want to start a new tradition, something small that makes today a little more special” you said, reaching up on your tiptoes to place a kiss to his forehead, a smile gracing his lips as you pulled away back down to your usual height. You watched him stand up a tad straighter, signalling that he bent down to help you reach.
“And what would you like that to be, sweetheart?” Joe asked, his eyes looking into yours with such a sense of adoration.
“I think we do a present early, just one. Something that’s a bit more intimate instead of opening everything at once with everyone else watching. We can save the rest for when family is here, but I feel like it would be nice to start something new in our place together” you said, hoping Joe would agree to your request. You kissed his cheek while he thought for a moment.
He placed a kiss to your lips in return before speaking, “I think that’s a great idea and I already just the one I want to give you early” Joe said with a hint of something in his tone that made you pull away to look at him. It was one you knew all too well, bracing for whatever Joe had in store for you. You knew he had a tendency to go elaborate at times for those he loved, you would just have to wait and see.
The two of you were sitting together on the couch, the dim lighting from the Christmas tree casting a warm glow over the room. The fire crackled softly in the background, adding to the atmosphere of calm. Joe, as usual, had that laid-back smile on his face. You could see his eyes twinkling with mischief, even as he pulled out the gift he’d gotten for you from under the tree beside him.
“So, one gift,” he said, leaning back into the couch, his arm around me. “You sure you’re not going to sneak a peek at the others under the tree?”
You rolled your eyes and nudged him. “I’ll be good. I promise. But only one gift means you have to make this count, Burrow.”
Joe chuckled, looking down at me with his usual easy smile. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure I nailed it.”
You smiled back, thinking the same thing. “Same here,” you said. “This is going to be the perfect gift, you’ll see.” You went under the tree and had yours placed next to you on the coffee table, wrapped and finished with a bow, the label read:
To: My MVP
From: Your favorite cheerleader
You thought the sentiment was cute with a hint of flirting, bringing up the thoughts of past intimate exchanges between the two of you. Joe seemed to be thinking the same as he read the label himself when you placed the present in his hand. He raised his eyebrows at you with a knowing smirk, only giving back a wink in return. The two gifts seemed to be about the same size which eased your nerves slightly. Joe handed you his gift, noting the look of uncontainable excitement in his features. You were proud of his wrapping job, his skills improving over the years as each christmas and birthday had passed. His tag to you read:
To: My princess
From: Your knight in jersey armor
You laughed lightly as you read his, Joe’s humor on full display even as soft and sweet as this moment was. You looked up at him as your laughter died down, Joe gestured for you to finally open the gift. You nodded and began to tear through the red and white paper. As you pulled more off, you revealed the classic red and white logo you both know and love. Inside was a custom Lego set, and as soon as you saw it, you gasped. It was a Lego replica of the small café where you and Joe had your first date five years ago — the cozy little spot tucked on a quiet street corner. The tiny Lego pieces meticulously captured every detail: the brick exterior, the little round tables with chairs, the glowing lights in the windows. There was even a tiny version of the street sign out front accompanied by tinier versions of the two of you.
“No way,” you breathed, holding it up in awe. “Joe, this is… this is amazing. How did you even think of this?”
Joe smiled proudly, his eyes lighting up. “Well, I know you love building things, and you always talk about that cafe where we had our first date,” he teased lightly, knowing how much you always beg to go back with the food being amazing. “I thought it would be something fun we could do together.”
You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the set in your hands. That night — your first date — had felt like a dream. You’d been so awkward, but somehow, you’d clicked together like puzzle pieces that had been lost and finally found. And now, five years later, here you were, still together, looking back at that moment with a sense of nostalgia and affection. You took in the box, a few small tears welling in your eyes at how thoughtful the gift was and a smile fell across your lips while Joe wiped your tears away, stroking your cheek with the biggest grin on his face.
“I couldn't wait to give that to you so I’m so glad you said about opening something early. I felt like I was gonna give it up any second "Joe rushed out, finishing with a sigh of relief.
“You’re incredible,” you said softly, setting the Lego set down beside me and turning to him. “I can’t believe you remembered that.”
Joe shrugged casually, though there was a softness in his eyes. “I remember everything about that night. You had that nervous laugh, and I think you spilled your drink at one point, but it was perfect. Just like this.”
You leaned over to kiss him, grateful for the thoughtfulness he always put into everything, especially when it came to us. When you pulled back, you noticed his eyes flicker down to the gift you had for him — the one sitting on the coffee table.
“Oh right, your turn,” you said, giggling as you picked the box up off of the table.
You passed it over to him — looking quite similar, though wrapped in silver paper this time. Joe didn’t waste any time, tearing it open in his usual fashion. You laughed as he was the complete opposite of you when it came to unwrapping gifts, his usual high level of patience was out the window and nowhere to be found. When he saw what was inside, his eyes widened slightly.
“You didn’t,” he said, already guessing where this was going as he tore through to find the same logo plastered in the corner of the box. Joe burst out laughing, his deep chuckles filling the room. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said between laughs. “We bought each other the same thing?”
You softly chuckled while wiping your few stray tears away, “Oh, I did. Go ahead, open it.” You couldn’t help but laugh too, the absurdity of it making everything feel even more perfect. “How is that even possible?” you asked, shaking your head in disbelief. “We literally thought of the exact same gift?”
Joe tore off the wrapping with a sense of both amusement and disbelief. And sure enough, as the paper fell away, there it was. A custom Lego set — the exact same one he’d just given you. The exact same design, the exact same tiny figures of you and him in the outfits you wore (as close as they could be in Lego style).
Joe shook his head, still laughing. “I swear, I was so sure I was being original! I even went through all this trouble to make sure it was one-of-a-kind!”
“I guess we’re just *that* in sync,” you teased, holding up the Lego set like a trophy. “Maybe we’ve been together too long.”
“Definitely not long enough for me, that’s for sure” Joe grinned, his voice full of affection. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we both have great taste. Maybe we should’ve just gone shopping together,” Joe joked, voice still sincere. “But hey, we both nailed it.” he said while still processing the absurdity of it all.
It was funny how we could end up with the same exact gift, but in that moment, you realized that it wasn’t about the present itself. It was about the thought behind it — how we both valued memories and the little moments we shared. That first night was just as important to you as it was to him.
“I guess we both really wanted to remember this time,” you said, looking at him with a smile, “and now we’ll remember our first Christmas Eve here together. It’ll be known as the night we both had the best present ever”
Joe nodded, his eyes softening as he reached for my hand as he spoke, “yeah, and every Christmas after this one. Asking you to be mine was still the best decision I ever made and now we’ll have it as a physical memory…twice” he finished with a laugh, making you laugh too.
“Okay,” you said, still chuckling as you nudged him shoulder to shoulder. “We should probably build these together, right? A Lego night like old times?”
Joe raised an eyebrow, clearly up for the challenge. “I’m game. But if you mess up my mini-figure’s hair, I’m going to have to throw down.” tackling you into the cushion behind you as he maneuvered his hands to tickle you.
Joe sent you into a fit of laughter and joking screams, begging him to free you with a promise you’d be good. He finally let up, air filling back into your lungs at a normal rate. You pulled him down by the neck into a kiss, “If you do that again, Joseph, I’ll lose your minifigures hair on purpose”.
Joe acted fake appalled by your statement, “alright, a deal’s a deal. Let’s have a truce and enjoy the rest of the night. I don’t want to worry about a bald miniature of me on Christmas” he joked as the two of you snuggled up for the rest of the night. Looking at the identical gifts on the coffee table, you knew that you were building the life you always wished for with the man of your dreams, one tiny brick at a time.
#joe burrow#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow bengals#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow imagine#nfl imagine#nfl#boyfriend joe burrow#girlfriend reader#Joe burrow christmas#burrowdarling requests#asks open#send anons#burrowdarling asks#joey b#joe shiesty#joe burrow fanfiction#joe burrow fan fic#joeyb
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I saw your request for aaron hotchner valentine’s day! maybe an aaron hotchner x bau wife reader and they are all away on a case and they’re still there on valentine’s day and it’s been a rough case and y/n has been extremely stressed but Aaron makes sure she still feels special and treats her to a nice dinner and surprises her with flowers
too married
happy vday pt 2!!! cw; fem!reader, your usual cm case descriptions, mentions of food/alcohol, fluff <333
"it's disheartening, isn't it?"
aaron hummed from in front of you, fiddling with the key to grant the two of you access into your hotel room. "hm?"
"that we're here. on valentine's day." you could laugh if pushed, your voice sharp and inches away from wavering.
no matter how little the inflect, and even if you hadn't shown it at all, aaron still noticed it. he paused and turned back to you, a forlorn expression on his face. "sweetheart-"
"it's fine." you brought your hands to your face, frustratedly and tiredly rubbing your eyes for a moment. "sorry, i'm just looking for something to complain about. it's been a long day."
"a hard day." aaron added in your regard, reaching out to touch your arm soothingly.
your current unsub clearly hadn't felt the universal love within the air; he's been most brutal the bau had endured in a while. full of mutilation, a sickening signature, devolving by the minute.
truthfully it had gotten to you; you were finding it extremely difficult to compartmentalize, and spending most of the day staring at the graphic crime scene photos didn't help. at one point you couldn't bring yourself to look at the pictures, lowering your head down to the table and wanting nothing but to cry into aaron's shoulder.
but he was nowhere to be found, you've barely seen him. he had spent a good portion of the day conducting interviews, off following leads that only resulted in dead ends.
you did see him at lunch, but ignored his occasional, concerned glances. if you were to make eye contact with him, and despite how tempting that was, you would have lost it. in addition, the fact it was valentine's day, made it kind of worse.
sure, it was partly a hallmark, commercial holiday, but you couldn't help but yearn to be out to dinner with aaron - eating ridiculously priced food in a restaurant you could barely see him in, giggly and warm from the wine, serial killers being the least of your concerns.
and rather than going to bed to continue the night, you were going to bed to get a few hours of shut-eye if you were lucky - given the late hour and horrors of the day to keep your mind awake. before it was right back to where you had left off.
"besides, we're also too married to do anything too special, right?" you forced a laugh, the sound sounding foreign in the empty hallway. aaron internally winced, the strain and exhaustion in your voice tugging sadly at his heart.
you continued, "and if we were home, it'd be a quiet night-in wouldn't it? maybe we'd get take-out, watch a movie, go to sleep early."
a lie, but anything to make yourself feel better.
but, that's where aaron, without fail, always stepped in.
"well," he started, but didn't finish his thought - finally managing to get the room key to cooperate and pushing the door open, entering with you at his footsteps.
his back constructed your view, but once he sidestepped towards the bathroom to your right, he revealed a bouquet of red roses, chocolate covered strawberries, accompanied by a card waiting on the desk.
"i know it's not much." aaron explained as you froze, his hand finding the small of your back. "and it's not everything either, i do have more planned for once we're home but-"
maybe it was the near delirious exhaustion, the day you had, him, or all the above, but you only had one means of responding.
you grasped onto the lapels of his suit jacket, bringing him to you and kissing him so forcefully he nearly tripped up against the wall. aaron laughed gently in your mouth, but the kiss was long and deep, the two of you melting into each other.
not enough? it was everything, and the kiss alone silently proved that.
"thank you." you whispered once the two of you separated. your palms were resting on his chest, the fabric of his shirt soft under your fingers.
aaron smiled, the kind that caused the ends of his eyes to crinkle happily. "i love you. and although today wasn't how it should've been, and i would've loved to have spoiled you endlessly, and jack would've definitely been staying at jessica's for the night." his lips turned upwards into a light smirk, a wicked glint in his eyes before turning to their softness. "just like any day, i'm reminded how lucky i am you're my wife. whenever i'm with you, wherever we are, i'm home."
you blinked at him, in utter bafflement and awe. "how do you always know just what i need to hear?"
"because you're my beautiful wife, and like you said, we're too married." he teased, but his playful demeanor sobered, his voice lowering to a whisper. "i'm sorry you had a bad day."
"it's okay. it's better now," you answered just as softly as you looked into his eyes, stroking your thumb along his cheek before turning back to your surprise, "and when did you manage to do all this?"
"i can't reveal all my secrets, can i?" aaron quipped with a smile, pulling you in for another kiss. you reciprocated, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"happy valentine's day darling. and to many, many more."
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotchner imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x you#criminal minds drabble#aaron hotchner drabble#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fanfiction#hotch imagine#criminal minds x fem!reader
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"santa baby..."
summary: Kylian, your charming and wealthy boyfriend, makes this Christmas extra special by spoiling you with extravagant surprises each day for the twelve days leading up to the holiday.
—kylian mbappé x reader: fluff/smut
first day
The winter morning light filtered through the window, its warmth soft against the cool air, casting a gentle golden glow across the bedroom ceiling. You stirred in the warm embrace of the plush duvet, feeling the comforting warmth of Kylian's body beside you. A gentle kiss grazed your cheek as he slowly pulled away, his eyes opening to reveal a sparkling smile that never failed to brighten your day.
He climbed out of bed, his muscles rippling beneath the thin cotton of his shirt as he stretched. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air as he disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of the shower running filled the room, mingling with the faint aroma of minty toothpaste and the rustle of him getting dressed.
He steps out of the shower, droplets still clinging to his skin, with only a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. You’re stretched out on the bed, watching as he climbs in beside you, his presence commanding yet comforting. He leans over you, his lips finding yours in a lingering kiss that speaks of both passion and regret. Training calls, and another day apart looms ahead.
“Open the box I left for you,” he says softly, nodding toward the corner where a carefully wrapped package waits, filled with his thoughtfulness.
Your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss that pleads with him to stay. “Can’t you stay just a little longer?” you whisper, your eyes searching his for hope. He lets out a quiet laugh, his forehead resting against yours. “As much as I’d love to lose myself in you right now, I can’t, chéri,” he murmurs, his gaze locking onto yours, full of longing.
With a sigh, you release him and watch as he walks over to the corner of the room. He picks up the elegantly wrapped box and places it gently in your outstretched hands. The weight of it suggests something substantial, something that has been carefully chosen.
As he dresses, leaving you alone with the intriguing package, curiosity takes over. You carefully untie the ribbon, peeling back the wrapping to reveal the gift within.
Your breath catches as you lift it, a Hermès Birkin bag in stunning pink crocodile leather.
Holding it delicately with both hands, your excitement spills over. Letting out a delighted squeal, you leap from the bed and race toward him, your joy impossible to contain.
Kylian's eyes widen in surprise as he catches you around the waist, his arms instinctively supporting your weight as you wrap your legs around him. He laughs, the sound rich and warm, as he holds you. The feel of your skin, only covered by your bra, against the roughness of his shirt sends a thrill through him. His arms tighten around you, the bag still hanging between you both.
"I thought you were upset because I'll be gone for training again," he teases, his breath warm against your cheek. You roll your eyes playfully, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of his skin and the bag's luxurious leather mingling in a heady mix that makes your heart race.
"How could I be upset when you give me such amazing surprise?" you reply, your voice muffled by his shirt. He chuckles, his fingers tracing patterns on your back as you cling to him.
With a final wink, Kylian walks out the door, leaving you surrounded by the calm and lavish surroundings of his home. The room seems to echo with his absence.
His thoughtfulness and generosity have become a hallmark of your relationship.
Little did you know, he had something special planned for you over the next eleven days.
second day
The evening unfolds in a whirlwind of laughter and conversation, the chandeliers casting a warm glow over the polished mahogany tables and gleaming silverware.
He invited you to dinner with his teammates at an exclusive restaurant that's known for its celebrity clientele and exquisite cuisine.
The air in the restaurant is alive with the tantalizing aromas of gourmet dishes wafting from the kitchen, and the clink of champagne flutes fills the room.
Kylian’s gaze remains fixed on you as his teammates share stories and laughter from their training sessions. Kylian laughs and jokes with his teammates, but the light touch of his fingers on your thigh beneath the table and the gentle caress on your back leave you feeling dizzy.
After spending time with his teammates, you found yourself back in the peaceful comfort of Kylian's home that evening.
He presses a deep kiss to your lips, his hands tenderly holding your face. As you pull back with a soft laugh, you notice your lipstick has smudged onto his cheek and the edges of his mouth. Your laughter draws a warm smile from him, and he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, wanting a clearer view of your face.
His eyes remain locked on yours, unwavering and unrelenting. As your fingers intertwine, leading him toward his room, the weight of his gaze anchors you, making you feel as though the entire world has faded, leaving just the two of you in its place.
His fingertips dance across your skin, setting it alight with a trail of fire. Your breath catches as he gently removes your dress, revealing the delicate lace of your lingerie beneath.
The warmth of his touch sends shivers down your spine, and you lean into him, feeling the heat of his body against yours. His hands trace the contours of your body, exploring every curve and line, as if committing them to memory.
His touch is gentle yet firm, his lips follow the path his hands have traced, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses that make you squirm with desire. He takes his time, savoring every inch of your skin.
Kylian’s mouth reaches the juncture of your thighs. "I could live in you," he murmured, his voice trembling.
"taste you..." He kisses your inner thighs,
"breathe you," his breath warm against your sensitive skin. You feel the fabric of your lingerie dampen with your arousal, your body begging for more.
He pulls the lace aside and kisses the soft mound above your sex. Your knees threaten to buckle, but his firm hands hold you steady.
"and still, I’d ache for more." His tongue traces the outline of your folds, and you gasp as he tastes you, his movements slow and deliberate. He looks up, his eyes dark with desire, and you can see the thrill in his expression as he brings you closer to the edge.
You're lost in the sensation, as he teases your clit with feather-light touches. You moan his name, the sound echoing off the walls of his opulent bedroom. He responds by sliding a finger inside you, filling you with a sense of fullness that makes your eyes roll back in your head.
Kylian's other hand travels up to cup your breast, his thumb flicking over the sensitive peak. You arch your back, silently begging for more, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. He chuckles darkly against your skin, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.
His tongue delves into your wetness, lapping at your juices like a man who's been parched for days. His movements become more insistent, the rhythm of his strokes matching the erratic beat of your heart. You're panting now, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as he devours you.
Kylian's eyes never leave yours, watching the play of pleasure on your face as he explores the depths of your desire. The intimacy of the moment is palpable, a silent conversation passing between you as he brings you closer to climax. His hands wander up to your hips, his grip tightening as he feels your body tense in anticipation.
His tongue swirls around your clit, building a crescendo of pleasure that makes you whimper. You're on the edge now, your legs trembling, your grip on his shoulders tightening. The sound of his mouth on your wet flesh fills the room, a symphony of lust that crescendos with each pulse of your heart.
Kylian's eyes are glued to yours, his pupils dilated with desire as he watches the effect he's having on you. The sight of his powerful body on his knees before you, his face buried between your thighs, is enough to push you over the edge. You feel yourself starting to come apart, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave.
You taste like something he was never meant to have, so sweet it hurts.
Kylian gradually leans over you, his presence towering above.
The evidence of your pleasure still lingering on his lips. Your breaths still coming in pants as you kiss him deeply, tasting yourself in his mouth.
"I have something for you, mon chéri," he says, quickly grabbing the nearest soft throw blanket to drape over your body.
He steps away for a moment, then returns holding a small box containing a watch.
A smile spread across your face as you saw the box’s contents.
Patek Philippe Twenty‐4 Rose Gold Watch.
As you thank him, still floating on the waves of pleasure, the room echoed with the gentle melody of giggles and the tender symphony of your kisses.
If the world ended tomorrow, He'd be content with nothing but this. You’re a place, a feeling—a sweetness he could build a life inside of.
third day
On the third day, you stood in front of the mirror, the Van Cleef & Arpels Alhambra necklace with pink sapphires resting delicately around your neck. You glanced at him through the reflection, your fingers gently tracing the necklace.
"What's all this about?" you asked, a playful smile curling on your lips. Curiosity sparked within you, as this was the third gift he'd given you. You couldn't help but wonder what his intentions were, especially after the surprises he'd already given.
He stood behind you, arms crossed, his posture tall and confident. "You've been an angel all year. You deserve it," he said proudly.
"Who are you, Santa Claus?" you teased, still admiring the beautiful gift.
fourth day
"Can you come out for a second? Pick up a delivery," Kylian's text buzzed your phone.
Curious, you stepped outside, only to be greeted by a powder-pink Rolls-Royce Dawn convertible parked in the driveway. Your jaw dropped. A delivery man approached, holding a clipboard.
"Are you the name on this?" he asked. You nodded, still blinking at the luxury car like it was some kind of mirage. After signing the papers, the man waved and left with a cheerful, "Enjoy!"
Stunned, you stood there, hands on your hips, the car keys dangling from your fingers. Dialing Kylian, you didn’t even wait for him to finish his "Hey, baby. What's up?" before blurting out, "You know me and you can't even drive, right?"
His laugh came loud and unapologetic. "I know, but look at it! It’s cute, and it suits you."
You squinted at the phone. Was he joking or being serious? "Kylian, please. Can we just stick to brands and jewelry? A Rolls-Royce? Really?"
"Whatever you want, baby," he replied, way too casually, like he had an endless vault of money just waiting to be spent.
You sighed, heading back into his house, tossing the car keys onto the table. "You do know I'm your girlfriend, not your sugar baby, right?" you called out.
"Just think of it as a Christmas gift," he said softly, his voice warm despite the hurried tone. "I have to get back to training, I'll see you back home."
Left alone, you walked to the window, gazing at the sparkling car in your driveway. Shaking your head with a wry smile, you muttered, "Well, at least it’s pink," and shrugged.
fifth and sixth day
He kept his promise of treating you to the finest brands. On the fifth day, it was breathtaking diamond Graff earrings shaped like butterflies, and on the sixth, a classic Chanel tweed suit in the softest baby pink.
Admiring the growing collection of luxurious gifts, you couldn’t help but shift your thoughts to him. His birthday was just around the corner, on the 20th of December, and while he was busy spoiling you, your mind raced to figure out the perfect gift for him. Spoiled or not, you wanted to make it just as special.
seventh day (December 20)
December 20th finally arrives, and with it, the promise of a celebration that will be as unforgettable as the man whose birthday it is. Kylian's family and closest friends have all gathered at an upscale mountain lodge with a roaring fireplace, stunning views, and private chefs to craft holiday and birthday feasts.
Snow crunches underfoot as Kylian takes your hand, leading you through the frost-kissed grounds to the warm embrace of the lodge. Inside, the crackling fireplace and the murmur of happy voices create a cozy atmosphere that envelops you both.
His family greets you with welcoming smiles, their eyes alight with affection. His friends, a mix of teammates and childhood companions, exchange knowing glances and winks, well aware of the special bond Kylian shares with you.
The lodge is a winter wonderland, adorned with twinkling lights and festive garlands that drape from the ceiling beams. The scent of pine and cinnamon fills the air, mingling with the aroma of the decadent meals being prepared. You’re led to a beautifully set table, where a stunning bouquet of roses in your favorite shade of deep blue awaits.
Kylian’s mother, a sophisticated woman with a warm smile, pulls you into a gentle embrace. "C'est un plaisir de te revoir."
You smile back, your cheeks flushing with the warmth of her words.
"It’s lovely to see you too, madame," you replied with a polite smile before turning to his father, who approached with a kind smile. He opened his arms for a hug, one that carried respect and sincerity.
The dinner that followed was a masterpiece of culinary artistry, each dish more exquisite than the last. You found yourself seated between Kylian and his mother, each bite of food seemed to melt in your mouth, the flavors a symphony that complemented the joyful atmosphere.
After the meal, everyone gathered in the living room, where a towering Christmas tree dominated the space, its branches laden with ornaments that gleamed in the soft glow of the candles.
The room fell into a comfortable hush as Kylian settled into a chair, his niece and nephew nestled by his side. Your heart brimmed with warmth as you watched him begin to unwrap the thoughtfully chosen gifts, each movement laced with a quiet anticipation that made the moment feel even more special.
After debating over what to gift him: something he couldn’t just buy for himself.
You ended up picking something he could probably afford in every colour. Still, the thought of matching watches felt special. Since he’d gifted you a Patek Philippe Rose Gold watch, you decided to return the gesture with the same brand, choosing the Sky Moon Tourbillon. Its design, blending the warm glow of rose gold with intricate Grand Feu brown enamel, felt like the perfect complement to yours.
It wasn’t just about the watch, it was about the thought of having something shared, something uniquely "yours and his."
As the last gift was unwrapped and the room was scattered with glossy paper and ribbons, Kylian stood, his hand gently finding yours.
"Merci à tous," he said, his eyes sweeping warmly over everyone present.
He bent down to kiss his niece and nephew goodnight, promising to see them again tomorrow. His mother embraced him, planting a tender kiss on his cheek as she wished him a heartfelt happy birthday one last time.
Now, only his closest friends and you remained by the fireplace, the room dimly lit by the warm glow of the flames. Glasses of cognac in hand, you all shared quiet laughs and lighthearted jokes, the hypnotic flicker of the fire casting a cozy ambiance over the evening.
"Happy birthday, love," you whispered softly by his side, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. He closed his eyes briefly, savoring the warmth of your lips.
"Are you tired?" he asked, his hands wrapping around yours, holding them securely.
"Just a little," you admitted, resting your head on his shoulder. Nestled together under a warm blanket by the fireplace, surrounded by his closest friends, you wished you could freeze this moment, cherishing the quiet intimacy of it all.
"I want to give you something upstairs before we call it a night," he said, finishing the last sip of cognac from his glass.
"But it’s your day—you shouldn’t be giving me a gift on your birthday," you replied softly, your tone calm and sincere.
"Who said it’s a gift?" he replied with a sly smirk, his tone teasing, as if he had something planned that sent a warm flush through your body.
The night grew quiet as his friends began to bid their goodnights, retreating to their cozy rooms.
As Kylian closed the door to the suite that was yours for the night, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement. The opulence of the room was nothing compared to the promise of the time you'd spend with him.
The room was bathed in a soft glow from the bedside lamps, casting long shadows across the plush carpet. You looked around at the luxurious surroundings—the large, king-sized bed piled high with pillows and a fur throw, the floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the snow-covered mountains.
Kylian's hand squeezes yours, pulling you closer to him. His eyes searched yours, a silent question hanging in the air. You nodded, unable to find the words to express how much you wanted him, how much you needed this moment of connection after the whirlwind of the day.
He leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek as his lips found yours. The kiss was slow and tender, It was as if he were savoring every second, every touch, as if he knew that this night could change everything.
"Wait," you told him, gently pushing him away. His eyes searched yours, questioning and hopeful. You took a deep breath, your heart hammering in your chest as you reached for his hand.
"Could I...?" you began, feeling a blush creep up your neck. Kylian's gaze grew curious as you tugged him towards the bed, the plush mattress inviting you both into its embrace.
"Could you what, mon coeur?" he asked, his voice a soft rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.
"Could I... go down on you?" you whispered, your cheeks flaming with a mix of excitement and shyness. Kylian's eyes darkened, his pupils dilating with desire. He nodded slowly, a wicked smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
You took a moment to admire the perfection of his body as he sat on the edge of the bed, his shirt now open, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest. You knelt before him, your eyes meeting his as you reached for the button of his trousers. With trembling fingers, you unzipped his pants, revealing the hard length of his erection straining against his boxer briefs.
He watched you, his eyes dark and hungry, as you slid the fabric down and took him in your hands. His girth and heat filled your palms, and you felt a thrill of power knowing you could bring him so much pleasure. You leaned in, your hair brushing against his thighs as you kissed the tip of his cock. Kylian's breath hitched, his hands finding your hair as he gently guided you closer.
You took him into your mouth, the softness of his skin a stark contrast to the steel-like hardness beneath. His taste filled your senses, musky and male, and you moaned around him. Kylian’s hips bucked slightly, a silent demand for more. You eagerly obliged, taking more of him, feeling him hit the back of your throat.
His hands tightened in your hair, guiding you in a rhythm that had him panting and whispering your name. The sound of his pleasure spurred you on, and you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock, feeling him throb in response. Your eyes watered, but you didn’t care. You were lost in the power of giving him pleasure, of seeing the usually unflappable man lose control under your ministrations.
As you took him deeper, you felt the muscles in his thighs tense, his grip on your hair tightening. His breathing grew ragged, and he began to murmur, the words a mix of praise and pleas for more. You felt a rush of pride and arousal at his reaction, your own desire building as you pleasured him.
You took him out of your mouth and kissed along the shaft, feeling the pulse of his blood beneath the velvet skin. Kylian’s eyes never left yours, his gaze a blend of love and lust that made you feel cherished and desired. You took him back into your mouth, moving faster, feeling him swell with each stroke of your tongue.
His hands moved from your hair to your face, guiding it down until your nose was nestled against the base of his cock. You breathed in his scent, a heady arousal, and took his balls in your mouth, rolling them around with your tongue. He groaned, his hips bucking in response.
You sucked gently on one, then the other, feeling them tighten in your mouth. Kylian's grip on your hair grew more insistent, urging you to keep going. You took him in again, deeper this time, feeling the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. You gagged slightly, but he didn't stop, his hips pushing you further down.
The salty taste of him filled your mouth, and you felt a thrill of excitement run through you. You were doing this, making this powerful, confident man lose control. His moans grew louder, his breathing more ragged. You could feel him getting closer, his entire body tensing as you worked your magic.
With a final, desperate thrust, Kylian came, his warmth flooding your mouth. You swallowed, savoring the taste of him, feeling his entire body shudder with the force of his release. He gently pulled you up, his eyes glazed with passion, and kissed you deeply. The taste of himself on your lips only added to the eroticism of the moment.
"Can you promise me to stay quiet?" he asked, his tone firm and commanding.
You nodded silently, the mere thought of him fucking you so intensely left your mind spinning, unable to focus on anything else.
Kylian stood up from the bed, his cock still semi-hard and gleaming with your saliva. He stepped out of his trousers, now lying in a pool at his ankles, and removed his boxer briefs, leaving him naked before you. You couldn’t help but admire the perfection of his form, his muscles rippling in the soft lamplight.
He approached you, his eyes never leaving yours. You could see the hunger in them, the desire that matched your own. He gently pushed you back onto the bed, as he started to undo the buttons of your jeans your hands moved to pull up your shirt, anticipation clouding your thoughts. His hands guide you to spread your legs. You complied eagerly, the anticipation building to a fever pitch.
With a deft touch, Kylian reached between your thighs and pulled your lace panties out. They were damp with your need, a testament to the effect he had on you. He held up your panties, and a wicked smile curled his lips. Before you could protest, he bent down and kissed you deeply, the taste of his release still in your mouth. His hand moved to the side of your face, and you felt the soft fabric of your panties being pushed into your mouth. The fabric tasting faintly of your arousal.
"I can't trust just a nod," he murmured, his voice low as he gently stroked your hair. "The moment I'm inside you, you lose all sense of reason. It’s like your mind can only focus on my cock."
It became familiar, almost cherished as if the depth of his impact on you was a constant reminder of the hold he had.
You felt a thrill of excitement at his words, the bluntness of his language surprisingly erotic. You nodded again, more firmly this time, the fabric of your panties pressing against your teeth. Kylian chuckled a dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine.
He climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over yours, the weight of his desire pressing down on you. He kissed your nose, the fabric of your panties muffling any sounds you might make. His hand moved between your legs, his fingers sliding through your slick folds, teasing your clit before plunging into your heat.
You moaned around the makeshift gag, the sensation of his fingers inside you while being unable to make a sound adding to the intensity. Kylian took his time, watching the play of emotions across your face as he brought you closer to the edge. Your eyes pleaded with him, your body writhing under his touch.
Finally, unable to resist any longer, Kylian positioned himself at your entrance. You could feel his cock, thick and hard, pressing against your wetness. He paused, savouring the moment, before sliding into you with one smooth, powerful thrust.
The fabric of your panties muffled your gasp of pleasure, the sensation of being filled so completely stealing your breath. Kylian's eyes never left yours, his expression a mix of hunger and satisfaction. He began to move, his strokes long and slow, each one sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.
The bed creaked softly beneath you, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. You bit down on the fabric, your hands gripping the sheets as Kylian claimed you, his hips moving with a rhythm that had you panting and squirming. His hands roamed over your body, teasing and pinching your sensitive flesh, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
When your muffled moans grew more urgent, he reached down, his thumb circling your clit as he continued to fuck you with an intensity that stole your breath away.
But just as the orgasm began to crest, Kylian pulled away, his cock sliding out of you with an agonizing slowness that had you biting down hard on the fabric. Your eyes widened in surprise and need, a whine escaping around the gag.
"You're getting a little loud," he teased with a smirk, clearly enjoying the chance to fluster you.
"We don’t want anyone overhearing, do we?" his tone laced with playful mischief.
With a firm but gentle tug, Kylian maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, your breath hitching in anticipation. The coolness of the sheets contrasted sharply with the heat of your skin, and you felt a thrill of excitement at the vulnerability of the position.
Kylian took a moment to admire your form, your ass in the air, begging for his attention. He ran his hand over the curve of your back, his touch feather-light and yet commanding. You could feel his eyes on you, drinking in the sight of your submission.
With a gentle push, Kylian settled himself behind you, his cock nudging at your entrance once again. You moaned around the fabric in your mouth, the anticipation unbearable. He took his time, his cock sliding in inch by inch, stretching you to accommodate his size. You felt the fabric of the panties dampen even further with your saliva as you bit down hard to muffle your sounds of pleasure.
The new position allowed him to go deeper, filling you completely. Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, making you quiver and moan, the vibrations of your voice muffled by the panties. Kylian's hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he set a punishing pace. You felt the heat of his breath on the back of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he held back his own groans.
Kylian pulled back, his cock sliding almost all the way out before plunging back in, making you gasp around your gag. He held still for a moment, his hands firmly on your hips, watching the way your body responded to him. You could feel him throbbing inside you, his own need pulsing in time with your racing heart.
You took advantage of the brief respite, pushing back into him, desperate to feel him fill you up again. His grip tightened, and he chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Impatient, aren't we?" he murmured, his voice thick with arousal.
Withdrawing completely, Kylian slapped your ass, the sound echoing through the room. You yelped, the sting of his palm on your sensitive flesh sending a bolt of pleasure through you. He chuckled again, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Better?"
You nodded, your eyes watering slightly from the sudden pain. Kylian took it as his cue to start moving again, his hips snapping into yours with a ferocity that had your eyes rolling back in your head. Each thrust hit that perfect spot, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body.
You felt your orgasm building again, your moans muffled by the panties in your mouth. Kylian's pace grew erratic, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he chased his own climax. He leaned over you, his hand reaching around to pinch your nipple, sending another shock of sensation through you.
The world narrowed down to just the two of you, the slap of skin on skin, the muffled sounds of your moans. You felt your body tense, the muscles in your stomach coiling tight as the orgasm approached. Kylian's thumb on your clit was unrelenting, pushing you closer and closer.
As the first waves of pleasure crashed over you, Kylian's grip on your hips grew even firmer, his strokes becoming more erratic. He groaned, his own release building, and you felt his cock pulse inside you. The fabric of your panties grew wetter as your juices mingled with your saliva, a silent testament to your shared passion.
Kylian's hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he fucked you harder, his own need for release overwhelming. You could feel the tension coil in him, his muscles tightening.
To muffle his sounds, Kylian buried his mouth into your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. The feeling sent shivers down your spine, your moans vibrating through the fabric of your panties. He kissed and bit along your neck,
"I love you."
His lips brushed against your ear, his breath trembling like a prayer on the edge of breaking. The words raw and uneven, as if they’d clawed their way out of his soul. His voice caught, and a sound escaped, half a plea, half a groan, laced with something that felt too vulnerable, too real.
His tongue tracing patterns that had you arching back into him, begging for more.
He whispered again, "I love you." This time, it wasn’t just a confession. It was a surrender.
As he reached his peak, Kylian pulled the gag from your mouth, his palms coming to cover your parted lips instead. You could feel the pressure building in your core, the delicious friction of his cock inside you setting off fireworks in your brain.
"Come for me," he breathed, the words a hot whisper in your ear. The command was all you needed, and with a cry that was muffled by his hand, you shattered around him, your body convulsing with the force of your climax. Kylian's own release followed, his warmth filling you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth sinking into your flesh just enough to leave a mark.
The room was quiet, except for the heavy sounds of your breathing. Kylian's hand remained over your mouth, the warmth of his palm a stark contrast to the coldness of your gasping breaths.
You felt him slowly pull out of you, the loss of his warmth leaving you feeling empty and exposed. He leaned over, his mouth finding yours, kissing you deeply as if trying to consume the last vestiges of your pleasure.
"I love you, too." You needed him to feel it, to know it in every part of him.
eighth day
The crowd erupted in a deafening roar, their cheers mingling with your own as he sealed victory for his team with a masterful strike. You couldn’t hold back the exhilaration surging through you.
Clad in the Christian Louboutin So Kate glitter heels he gifted you that very morning, their iconic red soles shimmered brilliantly under the lights as you leapt with joy, your cheers ringing out above the cacophony. Beside you in the VIP section, his father and brother joined in the celebration, their applause harmonizing with your own, a symphony of pride and triumph.
After the match, he joined his family in the stands, a tired but triumphant smile lighting up his face. In his arms, he carried his nephew, Isayah, while you held little Lana, who had grown especially close to you. Lana nestled against you, her tiny fingers playing gently with your hair, a gesture that warmed your heart.
“Congrats, Ky,” you whispered softly at his side, your voice filled with pride.
He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, his smile lingering as his gaze shifted to you and Lana. Something about the way you cradled his niece sparked a deep adoration within him.
A thought flickered in his mind. Maybe one day, in the future, he could give you a gift as precious as this. But he quickly brushed it aside. Perhaps now wasn’t the right time. Soon, he thought, his heart full of quiet hope.
Shaking the thought away, he turned his attention to Isayah, laughing as he playfully lifted him into the air, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you both like a gentle embrace.
ninth day
You felt the warmth of home, surrounded by the quiet familiarity of your family. Your dad had always harbored a deep, fond admiration for Kylian. Not because he was a celebrated footballer who fought valiantly for his country and club, but because of the man he was: genuine, kind, and humble. Their "man-to-man" conversations often left you feeling a little excluded, retreating to the living room with your mom while they shared moments over coffee on the porch.
As you sat together, your mom joined you with a thoughtful smile. “You know,” she began, sipping her coffee, “I see a lot of your young, spirited dad in Kylian.”
You turned to her, curious. “When your dad was still fighting for your grandfather’s approval,” she continued, her voice laced with nostalgia. “He worked so hard, always striving to be seen. But Kylian? he captured your dad’s respect in an instant.”
“Maybe because he’s his favorite football player,” you teased, a small smile tugging at your lips.
Your mom chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Or maybe it’s because your dad sees the way he loves you. The way he truly wants the best for you.”
Her words lingered in the air, warm and comforting. You leaned your head against her shoulder, sharing a quiet moment as the two of you watched your dad and Kylian laughing together on the porch, their camaraderie easy and genuine. The sight filled your heart with a quiet joy, comfortably nestled between the love of your past and the promise of your future.
Christmas dinner with your family had been a feast of laughter, shared stories, and the tantalizing aroma of roast turkey and sweet potato pie. The candles on the table had flickered with the same warmth reflected in everyone’s eyes. The night had been filled with the kind of easy happiness that made the cold outside seem a distant memory.
As you stood on the porch, bidding farewell to your parents, the evening air wrapped around you like a gentle reminder of home. You kissed your mom's cheek, her eyes sparkled with a mix of joy and a hint of melancholy. “Merry Christmas, sweetie,” she murmured, her grip around your waist tightening briefly. You felt a pang of nostalgia as her perfume, the same one she’d worn for as long as you could remember, filled your senses. It was a scent of home, of warm embraces and whispered bedtime stories.
Turning to your dad, you kissed his stubbled cheek, feeling the warmth of his smile even as he playfully pretended to dodge you. “Merry Christmas, Dad,” you said, your voice filled with affection. His laugh echoed through the room, a sound that had always brought comfort and happiness to your childhood Christmases.
As you pulled back, Kylian approached your mother with a gentle smile, his French accent rolling off his tongue like a soft melody. “Merry Christmas, madame, monsieur,” he said, his arms meeting your mom with genuine warmth. Your dad’s face lit up as he took Kylian’s hand firmly in his own, returning the gesture with a firm pat on the back.
The journey home was quiet, the soft hum of the car filling the stillness. In the backseat, you rested against Kylian’s chest, your head rising and falling gently with the rhythm of his breathing. The air was tinged with the delicate scent of your cologne, Dior Miss Dior Millefiori, the fragrance he adored and the thoughtful gift he’d given you earlier that day.
He pressed a tender kiss to your hair, his arm tightening around you as he drew you closer to his side. The silence between you wasn’t empty; it was a comforting embrace, a shared understanding that needed no words. Outside, the cold weather painted the world in muted tones, but here, in his warmth, everything felt perfectly at ease.
tenth and eleventh day
The Tiffany & Co. diamond heart pendant swayed gently against your neck, its delicate engraving, Love Me, catching the soft light. It was a thoughtful gift he'd surprised you with on the tenth day, during an exclusive shopping spree that felt like a dream.
On the eleventh day, as you stood before the mirror in your bathrobe, the pendant glimmered against your skin, a quiet reminder of him.
You tended to your skincare ritual with the luxurious La Prairie Platinum Rare set that had arrived that morning, his generosity woven into every detail of your day. Behind you, he lounged on the bed, scrolling lazily through his phone, the image of effortless calm.
Once finished, you climbed onto the bed, settling yourself atop him, your thighs resting gently on either side of his waist. He set his phone aside without hesitation, his hands instinctively finding your waist before sliding down to your thighs, where they lingered, steady and warm.
With a playful smile, you began applying a mask to his face, your touch soft and deliberate
His features, so familiar, so beloved, were a canvas you could never tire of. As your fingers traced his face, his lips brushed against your hand in a tender kiss, his eyes closing as if to absorb the moment fully.
"All done, Monsieur," you teased, your voice light with amusement. He opened his eyes, meeting yours, and pulled you into a kiss, his lips warm against yours. When he drew back, the mask on his face mirrored the one on yours, and you couldn't help but laugh.
That laughter turned into squeals as his fingers found your waist, tickling you with mischievous intent. You playfully swatted at him, your giggles filling the room like music, the moment glowing with love and intimacy-a quiet kind of magic that needed no words to be understood.
on the twelfth day of christmas, my true love gave to me...
Christmas unfolded like a scene from a cherished dream. The warmth of shared laughter and joyful chatter filled the air as both your families celebrated together, their voices mingling in perfect harmony. You couldn’t help but wonder where Kylian had disappeared to, but the thought quickly faded as you imagined him in another room, likely entertaining Isayah and Lana with his boundless energy.
The lively atmosphere stilled for a moment as a familiar figure, clad in a Santa suit, emerged into the living room. Kylian, with a fake beard and hat, instantly drew laughter and smiles. His mother covered her face, laughing helplessly, while you sat back, amusement lighting up your face. Isayah and Lana squealed with delight, running toward him as he handed out gifts, his joy mirrored in their gleaming eyes.
Ethan and Brice couldn’t contain their laughter, teasing him mercilessly. Kylian responded with playful punches, the room erupting in good-natured fun. The sight of him, carrying the little ones with such tenderness, brought a strange ache to your heart—something far beyond fondness, perhaps adoration.
One by one, Kylian handed out gifts to everyone, his eyes shining with warmth.
Finally, he turned to you. Standing before you, he pulled off the beard and hat, revealing that mischievous, endearing grin you knew so well. You smiled back, your heart skipping a beat as he drew a small box from behind his back.
The room fell silent, breaths collectively held. Your eyes widened, disbelief flickering through you as he opened the box to reveal a stunning ring.
“My last gift, darling,” he whispered softly, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes.
Your hands flew to your mouth as tears began to pool, threatening to spill. The room seemed to blur, the world shrinking to just him.
“Will you marry Santa baby?” he joked, his tone lighthearted in a gentle attempt to soothe your overwhelmed heart. Laughter rippled through the room, even as your mothers cried quietly, mirroring your own tears.
Then, he sank to one knee, his eyes never leaving yours. “Will you marry me?” he asked, his voice tender and filled with a vulnerability that left you breathless.
For a moment, the world stood still.
The gifts from the past days, no matter how extravagant, could never have prepared you for this. This—this moment—was beyond anticipation, beyond anything you had dared to dream. Trembling, you reached out, cupping his face, grounding yourself in the reality of him.
“Yes,” you breathed, the single word bursting forth with all the love and certainty in your heart.
In that moment, time held its breath, and you were no longer just yourself—you were a part of something greater, something sacred, something that felt like forever.
The room erupted into cheers and joyous cries. His father clapped him on the shoulder, pride evident in his gaze. Kylian slipped the ring onto your finger before pulling you into a kiss, his arms wrapping around you as if he would never let go.
Your mothers embraced you both, their tears mingling with smiles. Your father pulled Kylian into a heartfelt hug, his approval shining through unspoken words. Around you, the room shimmered with euphoric celebration, a symphony of love and happiness.
As the night wore on, the phrase Merry Christmas took on a new meaning. For this wasn’t just a holiday—it was the start of forever.
And as Kylian held you close in his Santa suit, his arms a sanctuary against the world, the twinkle in his eye outshone the Christmas lights.
After twelve days of outrageous gifts, this moment was the greatest surprise of all. With a heart full of love and a smile that refused to fade, you realized he wasn’t just the man of your dreams—he was your forever, your Kylian, wrapped up in red velvet and white fur, with a ring to prove it.
kyks bday coming up!!! yayyyy ☺️🤍
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semi-live blog
They are immediately the cutest fucking people when together. So soft, so giggly.
I know it’s part of their social culture, but they drink a lot. Maybe it’s because I don’t drink, but dang.
“Jungkook is currently doing his skincare.” They add to the screen after panning away for scenery, yet leaving the sounds of *slap slap slap*😭
Jungkook cycling through multiple pairs of sunglasses, and Jimin swanning in and picking the first pair is peak! They’re so similar I yet so different, lol.
Another thing I’m sure is part of their culture, is the way they pay for stuff, but I find it interesting still that we’ve seen Jimin buy almost everything during their trips, since as far as we know they have pretty lax hierarchy rules between the two of them normally.
Jungkook is in the most romantic moment of his life, lmao! “I love it here!!!” said a million times. That man was experiencing a real life Hallmark movie in his head.
I also thought they spoke/understood way more Japanese than they apparently do.
“Come on everybody!” I understood that reference.
The way they chose to animate over everything to avoid having to blur a billion people in the station is HILARIOUS!
Jimin is too funny bro.
This train ride is so peaceful, it’s selling me on visiting Sapporo despite being broke and not speaking a lick of Japanese.
Can we also discuss how “My man, my man, my man.” Jungkook is? Yet Jimin is too, and somehow both is more than the other, lol. They are perpetually on some, “Jimin will like this.” “Where’s Jungkook?” *films food, pans to Jimin* *films the outside world, pans to Jungkook* *cuddle even while walking* type stuff. Just lovesick.
Girl!dad Jimin confirmed🥰 He’ll be such a sweet dad too, I think. He’s so patient and kind, which is heavily required to raise another human.
I loooooooooe Jimin’s jacket dude.
The way Jimin immediately pivoted to making JK laugh when he tried to downplay himself. Like I said, “My man, my man, my man.” Don’t talk bad about his man, even if you are his man.
My most delusional Jikook theory you’ll ever hear from me: “Are You Sure?” actually became the title because they were asking it if each other, because they in looooooooooove.
Also, to answer my own question from my previous list… yes, the bubble is back.
Role play Jikook strikes again!
Jungkook is it slick! He played with that sip of whiskey the entire time, but the minute Jimin left he downed it.
Them forgetting to pay would’ve been me. And JK initially sending Jimin back to do it would have also been me. You got it, extrovert! Take the embarrassment for the both of us!
They’re so cute! This snow fight makes me want to be somewhere cold for the holiday☹️
The food always looks so damn good! Lord I’m jealous.
I need someone to compile all the times JM and JK go out to eat together, and let me know if Jimin is the one with his back always to the door? It’s a thing in America at least, that the “protector” tends to sit where they can see the door, and I don’t know if that’s a thing in SK as well, but it’s cute, because it matches their dynamic either way.
“Your fingers were all over it.” SIR!? You’ve had his sweaty ear in your mouth… he’s had his mouth on your neck… you’ve also had his fingers in your mouth before and vice verse… AND y’all constantly eat and drink off each other… in fact… yesterday he bit the very sausage you were in the middle of eating and then you continued eating it… before that you gladly allowed him to put his TOES next to your face while you were BRUSHING YOUR TEETH. Stop playing with me, Jeon Jungkook!
Jimin legit being ready to beat Tae’s ass over a dumpling is too crazy, lol. And folks be acting like he some docile helpless baby. Meanwhile, JK is a mediator. They definitely made for each other.
End of the episode. It was fun. Felt like the start of a holiday special. And I didn’t mention it up top, because I decided to “live blog” thoughts like ten minutes in or whatever, but Jungkook softly and sweetly saying he wanted to come back to Japan because it reminded him of their first trip together… SOBBING! He’s such a sentimental guy, with an equally as sentimental guy on his arm.
They truly do vibe so well, and I understand with each passing episode why them enlisting together was a non-choice choice. They click. Like they said themselves, they’re one person split into two bodies, and it’s clear as day they thrive off of being around one another.
Not to get too sappy either, but it’s insane they feel that way about their bond and dynamic, on top of all the things that already just so happened to bring them together. Not just born in the same country, but same city. Auditioned for the same music group. Actually made it into the same group… they were destined to meet, and even they feel that way. All that’s missing is them being the same age, and they’d be the same person. That’s an insane thing to say, but really tells you how deeply they value their connection.
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A Holly, Jolly Holiday with Min Yun-Kay!
CHRISTMAS is just around the corner, and this year, Ginger Yoongi is here to steal the spotlight from the Gingerbread Man himself. As a heartfelt token of appreciation from Yun & K(ay), we’re gifting you two special stories to wrap you in holiday comfort.
These tales might feel familiar—like cherished ornaments rediscovered each December—but they carry the same magic as those Hallmark classics we’ve all grown up (secretly) adoring. Wherever and however you celebrate, we hope these stories bring a little sparkle to your season!
Happy holidays, from Min Yun-Kay! 🎄✨
A WORLD FAR APART
by Yun @yooglefics
⊹₊⟡⋆ There's something about that cabin you keep coming back to. But maybe it's not the cabin. It's Yoongi. ⊹₊⟡⋆
Click here if you've been nice
A CHRISTMAS ENCORE
by K @ktownshizzle
⊹₊⟡⋆ You're taking a chance to save Christmas for the kids, for the town. And Yoongi's taking a chance to make it right with you. ⊹₊⟡⋆
Click here if you've been nice
#yoongi x reader#yoongi fic#yoongi fluff#yoongi angst#bts fanfic#yoongi x oc#yoongi x you#myg x reader#myg x y/n#min yoongi x you#min yoongi x oc#min yoongi fanfic#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi x y/n#suga x y/n#suga x you#suga x reader#yoongi smut#yoongi x y/n#yoongi fanfic#suga fic#suga smut#suga bangtan#bts fanfiction#bts fic#bts x reader#bts smut#yoongi imagines#bts x you#bts x y/n
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Ducktales (2017) Holiday Headcanons:
It’s that time of the year again, time for me to dump a bunch of random headcanons! All of which relate to the holiday season cause I love this time of year!
Huey holds the record for most homemade Christmas presents given during the holidays thanks to his JWC skills. Webby is second
Louie wishes that homemade gifts were banned in the gift giving circle.
Dewey always hosts his annual Dewey Dew Night Holi-Dew Special in the Foyer in front of the Christmas tree, much to Beakley and Scrooge’s chagrin
Donald always insists on being the one to decorate despite the many accidents and holiday slapstick he gets involved in every year. They say, the amount of Holiday Slapstick Donald has been in could fill the entire ABC Holiday Special line-up
Now that Santa is no longer banned from McDuck Manor, he always stops and says hello the Duck family on his yearly delivery. Scrooge occasionally joins him and sometimes Scrooge’s Christmas ghost friends help out too
Bentina Beakley always makes the best hot chocolate with the right amount of marshmallows
The kids always go sledding with their friends on Killmotor Hill when the snow is perfect for sledding
Della still puts up a couple of traps every year “for old times sake”. The traps then immediately get taken down the very second Donald gets caught in one of them
Webby is the best gift giver
Huey, Dewey, and Louie got their “Picture with Santa” poses nailed
When given gift cards that are $15 or less from relatives, Huey, Dewey, and Louie will sometimes agree to combine their gift cards to buy something they all want
Drake, Launchpad, and Gosalyn are Jewish and all celebrate Hanukkah but one of their yearly traditions is watching The Darkwing Duck Christmas Special because Drake and Launchpad insist on watching it every year
Gandra Dee doesn’t celebrate Christmas, in fact she’s entirely anti-Christmas, but still chooses to celebrate Christmas with Fenton and his m’ma cause it beats being alone
M’ma Cabrera definitely watches a bunch of Hallmark Christmas movies. So do Huey Dewey and Louie. Also Donald. You know what, especially Donald
Donald’s favorite Christmas movie is It’s A Wonderful Life. It gets him emotional and he always breaks down when George Bailey is proclaimed “The Richest Man in Town”
Della’s favorite Christmas movie is Die Hard. It was her favorite pre-Moon, but the whole John McClane going through hell and trying to make things right with his family just hits a little too close to home these days. Also she says she could totally go through what John did
Dewey’s favorite Christmas movie is Home Alone. In fact he has even set-up a few Mccalister style traps in Donald’s boat house before. They weren’t perfect but they still worked on Donald. He was not the intended target.
Huey seems like A Charlie Brown Christmas kinda Duck
Both Donald and Della know it was Dewey who traveled back in time that one Christmas. Only problem is they don’t know what year it was he went back in time. They just assume it must’ve been on Christmas Eve cause that’s when they saw him. So now until Dewey looks a little bit older they will always be sure to greet Dewey with a mysterious “Welcome back” that sounds like it has multiple meanings whenever they see him after not seeing him for at least 5 min. on Christmas Eve. It’s a bit odd for Dewey to experience, ngl
Dewey and a few other family members will visit Launchpad and co. in St. Canard during one of the nights of Hanukkah to celebrate with them
Matilda always goes to Castle McDuck for the holidays
Donald usually sails back to Duckburg for Christmas, but on the years he can’t Della makes it her duty to FaceTime him on Christmas Eve
And now: The Worst Gift Givers of Clan McDuck
5. Louie, he’s a kid so I’ll cut him slack, but he should put more effort in his gifts. But he won’t
4. Goldie. Don’t ask her why the store security tag is still on
3. Gladstone Gander: King of the Last Minute Gifts, he’s lucky enough to get good deals that cost him next-to and sometimes nothing. Unfortunately the quality of gifts are “Acceptable.”
2. Gyro Gearloose. Just seems like someone who sees something and goes “Well that’s fine enough.”
1. Scrooge McDuck. Rich people suck at giving gifts. It’s a commonly known fact
Also this whole post was a ploy to read my holiday theme DuckTales anthology fic that shows some of these headcanons in action. Enjoy!
#ducktales headcanons#ducktales 2017#ducktales#huey duck#dewey duck#louie duck#huey dewey and louie#webby vanderquack#scrooge mcduck#bentina beakley#donald duck#della duck#drake mallard#launchpad mcquack#gosalyn waddlemeyer#fenton crackshell cabrera#gandra dee#m’ma cabrera#gyro gearloose#goldie o'gilt#gladstone gander
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Something Worth Remembering
Summary: You were hopeful that you’d be moved into your new house before Christmas, but after another renovation delay, that’s not in the cards. To your credit, you make the most of the situation, and Bradley falls in love with you even more because of it. But he’s determined to make your first Christmas together special, and sets out to plan a surprise that ensures the holiday will be one both of you will always remember.
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (no use of y/n)
(can be read as Forgetful Boy and Pumpkin from RYEWID, but not necessary to read that first)
Word Count: 3.7K
Warnings: Warm fuzzy Hallmark feelings. Language. Allusions to smut.
Notes: Some holiday action for my faves. Written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt "home for the holidays”. Also as part of The Forgotten Moments Collection, but can very much be read by itself.
—---
____
Bradley stopped short when he walked through the front door, eyes widening as he took in the scene in front of him.
“Um…Pumpkin?”
“You’re home!”
You popped up so suddenly from the other side of the counter in the kitchen that he jumped slightly in surprise. “Am I?” he asked slowly, closing the door behind him and bending down to unlace and take off his boots. You laughed brightly as you stepped around some of the shopping bags on the floor to get to him. He accepted the kiss from you eagerly, feeling the stress from another work day dissipate as he wrapped his arms around you.
“Contractors called,” you told him once you pulled back, resting a hand on his chest. Your ring sparkled in the light streaming in through the open curtains, and Bradley couldn’t help but smile before he registered the words. “There’s a delay with the electrician and the flooring.”
Bradley groaned, the familiar annoyance of hearing the word “delay” coursing through him. The home the two of you had purchased was a fixer upper, tucked into the end of a cul de sac in a neighborhood not too far from base. There was work that needed to be done to make it everything you wanted, but neither of you had anticipated all the headaches that would come along with that. It would be a long project, you knew, but the contractor you had hired had promised it would at least be livable within the first few weeks.
That had been nearly two months ago now, and the delays kept piling up. Barely anything had been done at this point, and he knew he’d have to call the administrative office tomorrow to extend the lease on the on-base apartment, again.
“Of course there is.”
You smiled gently, and Bradley couldn’t help but let some of the annoyance slip away at the soft look on your face. He took a deep breath and let himself relax, pressing a kiss to your forehead before releasing you. He gestured to the tiny apartment the Navy had provided you with, smaller than the shoebox you had called home back in DC, that definitely did not look like what it did when he left for work this morning.
“Is that why it suddenly looks like Christmas threw up in here?”
You threw your head back as you giggled. The sound caused a full blown smile to cross Bradley’s face, warming him from the inside out.
“I was holding out hope that we would be able to spend Christmas in our new house, even if it’s not finished. But since the electrician’s are delayed, the floor people can’t come until the 28th. So I decided to finally cave and decorate here instead. But I didn’t want to spend a bunch of money on nice decorations, because I want to save that for when we’re completely moved in next year.”
“So…”
“So I may or may not have bought out a good portion of the Dollar Tree Christmas aisle, and spent way too long deciding on white lights or multicolored lights for the $20 table top tree that I bought.”
Bradley laughed loudly, looking around your temporary home once again. Red and green and gold covered the minimal available surfaces, and a small lopsided tree sat on the corner table in the living room, a bag of what he assumed to be decorations sitting beside it. Your cat, Florry, was curled up on top of a pile of bright green garland on the floor.
"Who needs a fancy new house when we can have our own little tacky winter wonderland right here?"
Your eyes sparkled with delight as you spoke, clearly thrilled by the idea, or at least incredibly amused by it. Bradley knew that Christmas was your favorite holiday, and how much you loved the festive season. This would be the first one you ever spent together. When you had toured the house months ago, you had pointed out the perfect place for a tree and where certain decorations could go. You had been so excited to spend the holiday in your new home. As the delays started coming in you had adjusted just how grandiose your plans would be, but you had taken it in stride. Now you were only six days out from Christmas itself and you were once again just making the best of the situation that neither of you could control.
Not for the first time, he wondered how he had gotten so lucky.
"Alright, Pumpkin," he said, "Let me go change, and then I’ll help you make this the tackiest, most magical Christmas ever."
You grinned at him, a mischievous spark in your eyes. "Challenge accepted."
_____
The Dagger Squad had an impromptu and unofficial holiday party the next night at the Hard Deck, and it still blew Bradley away seeing you intermixed so perfectly with his friends, both old and new. You floated from conversation to conversation and when he wasn’t by your side, he watched you with a smile on his face. He knew you were perfect for him, but seeing you fitting in like this just reaffirmed it.
“How’s the house coming along?”
He looked over at Mav as he leant against the bar beside him, handing him a fresh beer. He was still getting used to being around his godfather after all this time, but they had settled into a peaceful kind of hesitancy as they relearned what it meant to be in the other’s life, and it was nice, even if Bradley had to remind himself to breathe sometimes.
“Slowly.”
His tone must have relayed how he was feeling because Mav shot him a sympathetic wince. “Another delay?”
“Yup.” Bradley let out a frustrated sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “They can’t get the electricians in until tomorrow, which is when the flooring was supposed to go in. So now that got pushed to after Christmas”
Mav clasped a hand on Bradley's shoulder, offering a supportive squeeze. "It'll all come together eventually. How’s she taking it?”
He snorted as he brought the drink to his lips, taking another sip. “She handles stress and shit like this better than anyone I know.”
Mav smiled, nodding in what looked like approval. “You got yourself a good one.”
Bradley hummed his agreement and let his eyes stray to you, chuckling softly when he saw you dancing with Nat. Sometime in the last few minutes, you had stolen the Santa hat that Coyote had arrived with, the red and white material perched on your head. You twirled around with his best friend to the Christmas song playing over the jukebox, laughing merrily. You really did love this time of year.
You had told him that you didn’t care where you spent the holiday, so long as you were together. It was your first Christmas together, after all. But Bradley still felt guilty over not being able to get you into the house sooner. You had only been married for a few months, and you had given up your whole entire life to move out to California when he got permanently assigned here. It’s a decision you would make again and again, he knew, but he still wished there was something he could do, too. You had made far more sacrifices than he had. He wanted this holiday to be special. Memorable.
You were just a little bit tipsy when you got back to the apartment that night. You had clung to Bradley’s arm with both of yours the whole way up to the third floor from the parking lot, but the moment you walk through the door, you’re releasing him to go plug in the tiny table top tree. You plug in the string lights lining the kitchen counters next, humming a christmas song he can’t quite place under your breath as you do. You turned to him once the space was illuminated, the soft golden glow highlighting your smile.
“Pretty nice, huh? These cheap decorations aren’t so bad - I may just keep them for the new house, too.”
Your ability to make the most of everything made his heart stutter. He was in front of you in only three quick strides, one hand landing on your hip while the other cupped your face. He bent to connect your lips in a kiss. He could still taste the peppermint from the candy cane you sucked on on the ride home, and the taste of the champagne Penny had broken out at the end of the night for a toast. You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him and return the kiss, both of you getting so lost in it that by the time he pulled away, he was panting.
“You must really like the cheap decor,” you breathed, and Bradley huffed out a laugh at your joke.
“I just really like you,” he quipped, and he enjoyed how a shiver went through your body at his response.
As you changed into pajamas and settled on the couch together, an idea started forming in his head. He thought he might know just what to do to make this holiday memorable for you after all.
_____
“Are you sure you don’t mind me running out for a bit?” you asked for what was probably the tenth time as you slid your sweater on over your head. Bradley groaned to himself as your body was covered from his view as he lounged in bed. He had been watching you get ready, enjoying not for the first time how getting dressed was almost always the last step in your process.
“I’m positive,” he said, also for the tenth time. You gave him a dubious look and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Pumpkin, I promise it’s okay.”
“I know, but it’s our first Christmas Eve together!”
Bradley moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his arms open. You stepped between his spread legs and let your hands rest on his shoulders as he looked up at you, squeezing your sides through your red sweater. “Technically, it’s Christmas Eve morning. And I think you getting brunch with Nat and Coyote’s wife will be nice for you. You’ve been so busy with work and the move that you haven’t really had time to make friends.”
“I was already friends with Nat.”
He rolled his eyes at you fondly. “You know what I mean.”
You sighed again, fingers playing with the hair on the back of his head in the way that always calmed him down, even when he wasn’t feeling stressed out. He thought maybe the motion soothed you, too. “I think it’ll be fun.”
“Yeah,” you admitted slowly, nodding hesitantly. “I do too.”
“Then go. Have fun. I’ll be here when you get back, and we’ll spend Christmas Eve together. The morning doesn’t count.”
You snorted, but nodded nonetheless. He accepted the kiss you gave him right as your phone started ringing from the bedside table. Nat was there to pick you up, just like he had requested her to when he asked for her help with pulling off this surprise by getting you out of the apartment for a few hours today.
He gave it ten minutes after you had left before he jumped up and started taking down all of the decorations you had strewn throughout the apartment. It was easy work considering how small the place was, only taking him a few trips to and from the Bronco. He grabbed the small tree last, carrying it delicately so that none of the ornaments fell off and wouldn’t have to be reconstructed.
It didn’t take too long to get to the house at the end of the cul de sac that was now in both of your names, traffic light despite the holiday. He let himself in with the key that was still shiny with how new it was. He let out a sigh of relief when he flipped the switch and the overhead light in the living room actually turned on - with everything that had gone on, he wouldn’t have been all that surprised if it hadn’t. He made quick work of bringing in everything from the car, including the items that he had purchased and kept in the trunk without you seeing them this week.
He knew he had limited time, as Nat could only commit to a few hours of keeping you distracted, but it would be more than enough with what he needed to do. His phone buzzed right as he was finishing up a little more than an hour later, your name flashing up at him.
Pumpkin🧡: Getting the check! Back soon❤️
He sent back a response telling you he’d see you soon, quickly finishing up. He locked the door behind him and jogged to the Bronco parked in the driveway, and he was only back at the apartment for less than 10 minutes when you walked in the door with a large smile on your face that quickly morphed into horrified confusion.
“What happened to our decorations?”
“Hey, Pumpkin. How was brunch?”
“Were we robbed?”
Bradley barked out a laugh, shaking his head at your wide eyes. “Of our dollar tree Christmas decorations?”
You just gestured wildly around the space, devoid of any hint of the holiday cheer that had existed in its space earlier in the day. He laughed again, closing the distance to where you stood at the still open front door. He reached around you to push it closed before pulling you into him. He kissed your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips, pursued in an adorable pout. “We weren’t robbed,” he assured you. “But I do have a present for you. Go get changed.”
“What?”
He squeezed your hips, smiling warmly. “Trust me?”
You eyed him closely for a moment before your pout eventually settled into a soft grin, and you let out a long sigh before you nodded. “Always.”
He kissed you again, a little deeper this time, but pulled away before he could get totally lost in it. “Pajamas are on the bed.”
“Pajamas? It’s 2pm!”
He only chuckled in response, playfully smacking your butt when you started walking back toward the bedroom. “Trust me.”
You got even more suspicious when you emerged from the bedroom and saw that he had Florry in her carrier at the door and had changed into his own pajamas. He twirled his keys around his fingers and then held open the door for you. Once you were in the Bronco, cat meowing at your feet, he held out a red silk piece of cloth that made your eyebrows shoot up.
“Seriously? A blindfold?”
“Think of it like a Christmas adventure. Now let me put it on.”
You huffed a breath but he knew you weren't actually mad - you loved surprises, and there was a smile tugging at your lips as you turned to allow him to tie the silk at the back of your head. He kissed your hair when he was done and turned to start the vehicle.
“You know,” you said casually, just as Bradley was pulling out of the parking lot, “this blindfold might come in handy later. We should make sure the headboard we pick out has appropriate accommodations.”
He groaned at the implication, a flush creeping up his neck on instinct. You giggled happily, knowing the effect you had on him. He rested a hand on your thigh as he drove, yours covering his in a familiar move. The feeling of your ring on his skin was one he had grown to love in the last few months since you’ve gotten married.
You threw out guesses the entire drive over, each one more extravagant and ludicrous than the one before. By the time he pulled into the driveway that one day will be an everyday occurrence, he was grinning so hard that his cheeks were starting to hurt.
“Don’t move,” he said when he saw you reach for the door handle. He jogged around the Bronco to the passenger side, opening your door. He helped you down before reaching back in for Florry’s carrier, pressing it into your hands so you could carry her, while he focused on you.
"Alright, Pumpkin," he whispered, his voice laced with eagerness. "Keep your blindfold on, and I'll guide you." His hand tightened around yours as he led you out of the car and towards the front door of your new home. Excitement coursed through him as he thought about your reaction, and he loved that he knew instinctively that it would be positive.
He loved that he knew you so well.
“Stay here just a second,” he instructed once he got you through the door. He moved away from you to quickly plug everything in, coming back to you once the room was cast both in the sunlight streaming through the windows and the artificial LED lights.
He stood in front of you, a grin playing on his lips as he watched you fidget with anticipation. Your blindfold was still securely in place, blocking your vision from the surprise he had prepared. You were so damn beautiful, and he would never understand how he got lucky enough to call himself yours.
"Okay, baby," he said softly. He gently took the carrier out of your hands, setting it on the floor and letting the cat out to wander the new space that he had cleared of anything that might hurt her, before moving to stand behind you. Your back flush against his front, he moved his hands up your arms in a smooth caress, settling on your shoulders and squeezing in affection. "You can take off the blindfold now."
With trembling hands, you reached up and slipped the silk cloth from your eyes, revealing the scene before you. Gasping in awe, your eyes widened as you took in the sight that unfolded in the living room.
“Oh my God. Bradley.”
The room was still very much a construction zone, but he had moved all of the decorations from the apartment, plus a few more that he had gotten, to decorate the barren space. The tree you had bought sat on the floor in the corner. Blankets lined the unfinished floors, as well as humongous cotton puffs to replicate snow. An air mattress covered with bright red sheets and a green blanket was in the middle of the room. Everything looked straight out of a tacky high school Christmas play, but it was so bad that it was almost good - whimsical and unique.
He watched as you took it all in, feeling his heart beating double time in his chest. When you turned to face him, there was a wide smile on your face, and tears shining in your pretty eyes. You didn’t have to ask for him to know what you were thinking.
“I wanted our first Christmas together to be in our home, even if it’s not finished yet. I figured we could camp out for the day. You-” The words were knocked out of him as you launched yourself into his arms. He held you for a long moment, pressing a kiss into your hair as your laughter settled. “You deserve something special, Pumpkin,” he finally finished, voice softer than it had been.
You pulled back just far enough to meet his eyes, your hands cupping his face. “All I need is you, baby. You know that?”
He turned his head just slightly to press a kiss into your palm, nodding once. “I do.” A smirk twitched at his lips, his mustache twitching with the expression. “Does that mean you want me to pack all this up and return your gifts, too?”
The gasp you let out was damn near scandalized. "Oh, no you don't!" you playfully swatted at his chest. You motioned toward the tacky decorations with a mischievous grin. "We can't let these go to waste. It's our first Christmas, after all."
Bradley chuckled, arms secure around you. "It sure is," he whispered, his voice filled with affection. He leaned down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, the taste of anticipation lingering.
“Besides,” you murmured quietly, your eyes sparkling with a familiar look that had him warming from the inside out. “This gives us a jump start on christening the place. That air mattress looks mighty comfortable.”
Desire flared through him, and he wasted no time in scooping you up in his arms, carrying you bridal-style towards the makeshift bed. Your laughter echoed in the space as he laid you down.
“You know I’m gonna make you pack all of this back up and put it back up in the apartment until at least New Years, right?” you asked him, slightly breathless as he moved his kisses from your lips down to your neck, nipping at the skin.
Bradley chuckled, his hands pushing your shirt up, revealing soft skin that he loved to touch. “Oh, of that I have no doubt.”
Later, you lay nestled together underneath the green blanket, the crackling sound of a virtual fireplace playing from his laptop on the floor beside you while Christmas music played lightly from your phone. You were basking in the glow of the makeshift display as your breathing calmed. You pressed a kiss to his chest, right over his beating heart. He was sure that it skipped a beat at the gesture, but if you noticed, you didn’t comment on it.
“I can’t wait until we’re in here for good,” you whispered instead.
He hummed in response, tracing lazy patterns on your bare back. “Me too.”
You snorted after another moment, propping your head up to meet his eyes. “Hell of a first memory to make here, don’t you think?”
Bradley laughed lightly, a contented smile spreading across his face. It certainly was, in all of the best ways. “I’ll remember this forever,” he said, voice filled with warmth and conviction, because he couldn’t fathom ever forgetting any moment with you, especially something as perfect as this.
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Main Masterlist :: The Forgotten Moments Masterlist
Notes: It's been far too long since I wrote anything for these two. I hope you enjoyed it! Likes/comments/reblogs are always appreciated if you did🧡
Thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all their help!
Tag List: @roosterforme @mak-32 @wildxwidow @gretagerwigsmuse @lilyevanswhore @too-fangirl-to-fuction @fav-fanficssss @notroosterbradshaw @teacupsandtopgun @sometimesanalice @sunflowersteves @littlezee80 @je-suis-prest-rachel @khaylin27 @infamous-reindeer @yanna-banana @avengersfan25 @wkndwlff @sylviebell @lt-spork @indynerdgirl
@mssleepy876b @kassieesworld @mizzzpink @a-serene-place-to-be @sexualparkour @sadpetalsstuff @almostgenerallyalways @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ccbb2222 @taytaylala12 @shelbycillian @mavrellover91 @vici111 @lunamooncole @blackwidownat2814 @pisupsala @bellaireland1981 @jynxmirage
@greatszu @na-ta-sh-aa @callsign-magnolia @chaoticassidy @thedroneranger @cherrycola27
#alli writes#bradley bradshaw: forgetful boy#the forgotten moments#winterromcomchallenge#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw x oc#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw#rooster imagine#rooster x reader#rooster bradshaw#tgm fanfiction#tgm#rooster x you#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster x reader#bradley rooster x y/n#bradley bradshaw x y/n#bradley bradshaw x female reader#bradley bradshaw x you
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Santa Baby
pairing: Tyler owen’s x f! popstar girlfriend
The stage was bathed in warm, festive light as snowflakes made of glitter descended from the rafters. The audience buzzed with excitement, eagerly awaiting the star of the night. Y/N’s highly anticipated Christmas special was live, showcasing her new holiday album. Fans worldwide tuned in to witness her performance, and among them was her proudest supporter her boyfriend turned fiancé, Tyler Owens, seated in the front row.
Y/N’s voice soared through classic carols and original songs, each note wrapping the room in holiday magic. Dressed in a red velvet gown that shimmered under the lights, she was the picture of festive elegance. Her diamond necklace sparkled with every turn, but her smile was the true showstopper. Tyler leaned forward in his seat, utterly entranced, his blue eyes never leaving her.
Then came the moment that would be talked about for weeks. The band struck up the jazzy, slinky notes of Santa Baby, and the audience erupted into cheers. The curtains parted to reveal Y/N in a dazzling new outfit: a fitted red velvet bodice trimmed with soft white fur, paired with thigh-high boots and a sparkling Santa hat. She strutted across the stage, microphone in hand, her playful grin promising something extraordinary.
Tyler chuckled as she made eye contact with him, her flirty energy aimed directly his way. He shook his head, already knowing she was about to steal the show.
Her sultry voice filled the air:
Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me…
The crowd swayed along, their energy building with every lyric. Y/N’s performance was captivating, her charm impossible to resist. Tyler’s grin grew wider as she playfully gestured toward him during the bridge:
Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight.
The audience roared with laughter and applause at her antics. Tyler, his face beaming with pride, clapped along, his eyes shining with admiration. But then, the atmosphere shifted as she reached the iconic line:
Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing a ring…
Y/N paused dramatically, her voice trailing off as she raised her left hand. The spotlight caught it, making the enormous diamond engagement ring glitter like the North Star. Gasps and cheers erupted from the crowd, and Tyler froze, caught completely off guard. For a moment, he looked stunned, but then his face broke into the most radiant smile, his eyes glassy with emotion.
The cameras panned to him, capturing his reaction as he stood, clapping and laughing, his expression one of pure love and pride. Y/N flashed him a cheeky grin, finishing the line with a twist:
…and I don’t mean on the phone!
The theater exploded with applause. Y/N gave a playful twirl, blowing Tyler a kiss and mouthing, I love you. He returned it with a blown kiss of his own, shaking his head as if to say, You’re unbelievable.
By the time Y/N finished her set, the news had already gone viral. Social media lit up with clips of the performance, fans gushing over her flawless vocals and Tyler’s swooning reaction. Headlines blared:
“Pop Star Y/N Drops Engagement Bombshell During Christmas Special!”
“Tyler Owens and Y/N Are Officially Engaged And It’s the Holiday Surprise We Didn’t Know We Needed!”
The next morning, Tyler sat on the couch, scrolling through endless memes of his smitten expression. Y/N curled up beside him under a cozy blanket, her engagement ring catching the morning light.
“You really couldn’t wait to tell the world, huh?” he teased, showing her a tweet comparing him to a love-struck Hallmark movie character.
“What can I say?” she replied with a smirk. “I like making a statement.”
He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Good. I want everyone to know I’m the luckiest man alive.”
Her smile softened as she laced her fingers with his. “Merry Christmas, Tyler.”
“Merry Christmas, future Mrs. Owens.”
That evening, as the snow continued to drift softly outside, they decided to celebrate their engagement with a romantic soak in the outdoor hot tub. The steam swirled into the crisp winter air, and the glow of the nearby fire pit illuminated the space, casting flickering shadows over the snow-covered patio.
Y/N stepped out onto the deck, wrapped in a plush robe, her cheeks rosy from the cold. Tyler was already in the tub, leaning back against the edge with his arms sprawled out, the muscles of his chest glistening from the rising steam. His blue eyes fixed on her with a heat that rivaled the bubbling water.
“Come on in, future Mrs. Owens,” he teased, his voice low and inviting.
Y/N smirked, dropping the robe to reveal her figure in a deep red bikini that matched the festive mood of the weekend. Tyler’s breath hitched, his gaze dragging over her like she was the only thing in the world.
“You’re staring,” she said playfully as she descended into the water, the warmth enveloping her instantly.
“Can you blame me?” he replied, his voice rough as he pulled her closer the moment she settled in. “Look at you. You’re stunning.”
She slid onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist, and wrapped her arms around his neck. The contrast of the hot water and the cool winter air made her shiver slightly, but Tyler’s hands on her hips quickly warmed her up.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Owens,” she murmured, trailing her fingers along his jawline.
Tyler chuckled, but it quickly turned into a groan when her lips brushed against his. The kiss started slow, a gentle exploration, but quickly deepened as the tension between them simmered into something hotter than the water surrounding them. His hands roamed her back, sliding lower as he held her firmly against him.
“You know,” he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire, “you completely ruined me last night with that performance.”
“Good,” she whispered, biting her lip as she looked at him. “I wanted to drive you crazy.”
“Mission accomplished,” he said, his grip tightening as he kissed her again, his lips moving down to her neck, trailing over her collarbone.
“Tyler,” she breathed, her voice a mix of a plea and a tease.
He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his blue eyes blazing. “Say it again,” he murmured.
“Tyler,” she repeated, her hands framing his face as her lips brushed against his in the faintest of kisses.
“No,” he whispered, his smirk returning as his hands dipped into the water, pulling her closer. “The other thing. The thing I’ve been waiting to hear all day.”
She smiled, her heart thundering in her chest. “I love you, Mr. Owen
Tyler’s laughter rumbled through the air before he captured her lips again, the kiss slow, sensual, and filled with the kind of love that made the world stand still. And as snowflakes melted on their heated skin, they knew this was the start of a holiday season they’d never forget.
#tyler owen x f! reader#tyler owen’s x you#tyler owen x reader#tyler owen x fem reader#tyler owens x y/n#tyler owen’s#tyler owen#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens#glen powell fluff#glen powell fanfic#glenn powell#glen powell x reader#glen powell
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My Avatrice Fic Masterpost
Only happy endings here.
Multi-chapter
the bane of my existence (complete, 9/9) - Bridgerton season 2 AU, Avatrice as Kanthony mostly, Regency romance, slow burn, angst with a happy ending, eventual smut (E)
I'm Coming Out of My Cage and I've Been Doing Just Fine -(ongoing, 8/?) - werewolf Bea modern AU, fast burn Avatrice, ambulatory wheelchair user Ava, horror, graphic descriptions of violence (M)
Mrs. & Mrs. Silva (complete, 5/5) - Mr. & Mrs. Smith AU for the 2023-2024 Avatrice Big Bang, Avatrice as wives who don't know they're each other's greatest rival assassin, action, comedy, angst, marital strife (M)
A Practical Guide to Getting Out of the Friend Zone, by Beatrice Adeline Silva (complete, 8/8) - college memoir AU, Beatrice writes the story of how they got together, Ava is her editor, pure comedy, no angst (M)
Friends with my Ex (complete, 12/12) - post-canon post-Holy War mature romance, Ava returns after Beatrice has fallen for someone else, Avatrice friendship to start, then Avatrice endgame, some angst, emotional hurt/comfort, SUPER happy ending (M)
Eating a Pomegranate for the First Time (in progress, 2/2) - stream of consciousness of Ava and Beatrice having sex for the first time, with various internal and external moments of awkwardness, technically smut, romantic, funny, fluff, shorter than my one-shots, inspired by Joyce's Ulysses and a conversation about "why aren't there more fics where the sex is awkward or bad?" (M)
One-shots
I mean it different than you do - Renee Rapp interview AU, singer!Bea gives an interview where she admits she wrong a love song about Ava, Ava confronts her, humor, fluff, description of past angst (M)
See You In Our Dreams - childhood friends AU, Avatrice meet in first grade and become best friends, nostalgia, fluff, and some angst (T)
Seven Minutes In Hell - Halloween special, childhood enemies to lovers, mostly humor, some fluff, very brief angst, the evil twin fic of See You In Our Dreams (T)
A Formal Invitation to Come Inside and Drink My Blood - vamp!Bea, Ava wants to seduce her hot vampire neighbor, humor, crack fic (M)
No Drinking Another Girl's Blood or I Shoot Her With My Crossbow - vamp!Bea Halloween special, Avatrice do Halloween and handle jealousy poorly, still pure humor, hornier than the first one (M)
Untitled Vampire Bea Holiday Special Extravaganza - vamp!Bea Christmas special, still mostly ridiculous humor, but some fluff in this one (M)
A Very Merry Wednesday - Christmas special, anti-Hallmark fic, humor and fluff and comfort and no one finds the spirit of Christmas
Art Others Have Done Of My Fics
The last two images are the wonderful @princington's drawings of scenes from A Practical Guide to Getting Out of the Friend Zone and See You In Our Dreams, respectively (posted with permission).
Sketch of Viscount Bridgerton by frost22 on Bluesky
#warrior nun#avatrice#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#fic list#alms fics#fan art#avatrice fanart#art of my fics
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