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adragonprinceswhore · 2 months ago

Text

Make You Feel My Love

Aemond Targaryen x Ex-Girlfriend

Summary: A few months after you break things off with your boyfriend, Aemond, you start receiving strange messages and phone calls from an unknown number. Things escalate when you’re sent a video secretly filmed half a year ago, of you and Aemond having sex.

Warnings: 18+, dark themes (mind the tags!), obsession, stalking, exhibitionism, blackmail, threats of violence, emotional manipulation, DUBCON (drunk sex), degradation, dirty talk, fingering, deepthroat, breathplay, spanking, P in V, hairpulling

A/N: Based on a request by anon, I hope you like this! Another spooky fic for the spooky season, Happy All Saint's Eve! 🖤

Word Count: 5100

Your breath turns into small clouds in the cold air as you step out of the office building, the chill of late autumn biting through your wool coat.

It’s already dark outside. The tall lamp-posts lining the empty streets cast a pale light over Cobbler’s Square, the business hub of King’s Landing. As you fumble with your gloves to put them on, your phone vibrates, breaking the silence of the still night. You glance down and see a message from an unknown number:

"Working overtime again?"

Your eyes linger on the screen. The message makes you shiver, it’s uncomfortably familiar yet oddly unsettling. You scan the sidewalk, wondering if someone from work might be pulling a prank at your expense, but there's no one around, just the faint murmur of traffic in the distance.

After a second of consideration, you decide it must’ve been someone texting the wrong number, so you slip the phone back into your pocket, and head toward the underground.

The one good thing about staying late at the office is that there’s always a free seat on the train. You take a seat, put in your earbuds and close your eyes, relieved that another stressful day is behind you.

Still, the strange text you’d received leaves a knot of unease tightening within you.

Your mind drifts to recent news reports about a man harassing women across the city. He’d been lurking around office buildings, the stories said, learning his victims’ routines, showing up at the same places, always at the wrong times.

The coincidence is eerie, almost too frightening to think about. So you pull out your phone, trying to distract your wandering mind.

You scroll through recent news, and just as you feel yourself relax a bit, another reminder of your recent distress pops up on your screen,

Aemond Targaryen.

It’s hard to keep up with recent affairs and not bump into him.

A member of the Targaryen family, one of the most powerful media dynasties in the country, he was untouchable, the kind of person people said was destined to rule the world. At first, he’d seemed like the everything a woman could wish for: captivating, attentive, always ready with grand gestures.

But as time passed, his attention turned darker.

His texts became constant, then invasive.

He’d ask where you were at all hours, demanding you kept your location tracker on at all times. He would question your friends, arguing they were ‘beneath you’. He even hinted at you quitting your job as a political reporter, a position you had studied and fought for for 8 years, to come work for him. “I’ll make you my personal assistant”, he’d said, “Keep you close in case I need anything.”

His controlling tendencies, paired with his arrogant worldview was what ultimately led you to break things off with him . And when you finally did, he’d accepted it with chilling calm; no fight, no anger, just a quiet nod.

You force the thought from your mind, stepping off the tube and onto the platform.

Once you’re home, you kick off your shoes, lock the door, and sink into the quiet solace of your apartment. You’re pouring a long-awaited glass of wine when your phone vibrates again.

The screen lights up, the same unknown number.

"I hope you got home safe."

The pit in your stomach returns.

It started off with little things.

Strange texts that seemed harmless enough. Then came the letters, always printed and neatly folded, never including a return address.

At first, you brushed them off. It was easy to wave away the unease, convincing yourself that it was a prank, a mix-up, maybe just a wrong number. They were never addressed specifically to you anyway.

A little discomfort, nothing more. But as the days turned into weeks, the messages began to change.

They weren’t just random or generic anymore; they became specific, too personal, with a familiar vocabulary that made your skin crawl. Whoever was sending them seemed to know you intimately; your routines and habits.

Things you had never shared with anyone.

The messages were like an invisible set of eyes, always watching from places you couldn’t see.

You still remember the first time you felt true fear. It was a Friday night when your phone rang, and you answered to hear nothing but dead silence.

No voice, no background noise, just the suffocating, empty void on the other end of the line. Stunned into silence, you waited, but the call never broke the silence.

Eventually, you hung up, convincing yourself that it was nothing, probably a misdial. But then the calls started coming more frequently. And with each passing second you had to listen to the silence on the other end, your unease grew.

The letters were even worse.

They began appearing not only in your mailbox, but slipped under your door as well, tucked into the gaps like sinister little secrets.

You remember holding one, your fingers trembling as you read the words, each line making your apartment feel smaller, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. The messages never outright threatened, but their tone was unsettling, implying that the sender knew where you lived, what you did, even how you spent your quietest, most private moments.

Before they were impersonal, now they included your name as well.

You really shouldn’t walk alone at night.

The city is full of dangers, and someone as precious as you deserves better. I watch you sometimes, you know.

I watch the way you clutch your bag a little tighter when the shadows loom over you, how you shiver when the wind cuts through your coat. It makes me want to keep you safe.

You work so hard, staying late at the office. It must be exhausting, always pushing yourself. But don’t worry. I’m never far away. Watching. Waiting. Ready to step in if you ever need me.

Sleep well tonight.

I’ll be thinking of you.

The animalistic fear the letters brought out in you caused tears of despair to shine in your eyes. Never before had you felt so unsettled; robbed of your sanctuary and stripped bare under the unrelenting gaze of an unknown threat.

When you thought things couldn’t get worse, you notice it in the corner of your eye whenever you get off the tube. Someone has started following you home.

As with the other terrors, it began subtly.

A shadow moving just out of your line of sight, footsteps that kept the same rhythm as yours, only to fall silent when you turn to look.

Initially, you brushed it off as paranoia. The strange texts, calls and letters had made your nerves stand on high alert at all times. So you walk faster, clenching your keys in your hand, telling yourself you were imagining it.

But by now, it’s become undeniable.

On more than one occasion, you’ve glanced back and caught the outline of a figure lingering just far enough away to melt into the darkness.

Once, you thought you saw someone duck into an alley when you turned around too quickly, and the image haunted you for days.

Each night, the walk from the tube station to your building feels longer, the streetlights casting distorted shadows that play tricks on your mind. In retaliation, you cross the street randomly, change your route, but the feeling never fades.

The worst part is that the presence doesn’t make itself known.

It doesn’t shout or approach.

It simply waits.

Watches.

Now, whenever you walk home, every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes your heart beat fast and hard. You know someone is out there, tracking your every move.

Always lurking just out of reach.

The world around you has become a riddle of dark mysteries and hidden threats, and the sense of safety you once had feels like a distant memory.

You feel it every evening, that unnerving prickling sensation of being watched.

At the office, you catch glimpses of people who seem too familiar, faces that never linger but somehow stay with you.

On the train, you feel eyes on you, shadowy figures that seem to mirror your every move. Once or twice, you’ve even taken detours down different streets, slipping into shops just to lose whoever’s following you. But somehow, they’re always there, just at the edge of your vision, close enough to make your skin crawl but too far to confront.

Tonight, as you step onto the station platform, your heart hammers in your chest. It’s crowded, people weaving through the tiled halls, but even among the sea of strangers, you feel that presence nearby, watching.

You keep your head down, slipping into the crowd with hurried steps, your fingers gripping the strap of your bag like a lifeline. Your throat feels tight, and each breath becomes an effort as you board the train and move toward an empty seat.

Sitting by the window, you try to focus on the reflection in the glass. Your face looks pale and unfamiliar; a distorted version of yourself, yet it’s the background you watch carefully, searching for that familiar silhouette or lingering stare. The lights flicker across the train’s interior as it pulls away from the platform, the steady hum of the tracks doing little to calm the creeping dread in your chest.

You finally reach your destination and exit quickly, walking down the street to your house in hurried steps.

Your eyes scan the dimly lit surroundings, every shadow and alleyway filling with the possibility of someone lurking. Halfway to your building, you spot it—a figure across the road, barely illuminated by the faint glow of the surrounding lamp-posts, watching you.

They don’t approach.

They don’t call out.

Just watch.

A chill crawls up your spine, but you force yourself to keep walking.

Each step feels like a lifetime as you quicken your pace, the distance to your front door stretching endlessly before you. The familiar sound of footsteps follows behind, soft but persistent, a reminder that you’re not alone.

You fumble for your keys, fingers shaking far too much for you to be graceful, and the moment the door swings open, you slip inside, pushing it shut and twisting the lock with a desperate click.

Safe.

At least, you think so.

You move to the window, pulling the curtains tightly closed and double-checking every lock, heart still racing. The eerie silence of your apartment only serves to amplify the tension, and you try to steady your breathing, pressing your back against the wall, reassuring yourself that you’re alone. But then your eyes fall to your phone on the counter, the screen lights up, casting a cold, unsettling glow across the room.

Another message from the unknown number.

“You looked scared tonight. No need to be. I’m just looking out for you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and the room suddenly feels colder.

They were there, watching, close enough to see the fear in your eyes. You swipe through the messages, reading the last few words again and again, each one making it feel like the blood in your veins slowly turns to ice.

Every instinct tells you to delete everything, to block the number, but it won’t change the fact that they were there. They saw you. They know where you live, and they know you’re alone.

You check the locks once more, willing yourself to believe it’s just a cruel prank. But deep down, you know this is no mistake, no accident.

Tomorrow, you tell yourself, you’ll file a report. You’ll talk to the police, maybe find a friend to stay with for a few nights. But as you lay down, staring into the dark, the words echo in your mind,

"No need to be scared. I’m just looking out for you."

You close your eyes, but the sleep you need feels too far away to be attainable, and all you can feel is that presence.

Just beyond the walls.

Watching.

Waiting.

It’s late at night when your phone buzzes again, the screen lighting up the dark room.

You’ve become almost numb to the sound of notifications, each one feeling like another weight to the stones of anxiety heavy on your chest.

You almost dismiss it, too exhausted to care for more ominous messages, but then that rush of fear washes over you once more.

It’s not a text message.

It’s a video, sent from the same unknown number that’s haunted you for weeks.

You hesitate, one finger hovering over the screen as dread, dark and thick like petrol, pools in your stomach.

Slowly, you tap to open it, holding your breath in fear of moving even slightly. The video is shaky, filmed through a crevice from a distance, as though captured by someone hiding just out of sight.

Still, you recognise the setting instantaneously.

The Targaryen summer house.

The video depicts two silhouettes; one laying on the bed of one of the many guest rooms of the vast mansion, the other with their head between the first person’s thighs.

The filmer zooms in on the long, silver hair of the person kneeling next to the bed, and your heart beats so fiercely it feels like it’ll leap out of your chest as the camera moves upwards, until it lands on your face, twisted in pleasure.

You remember the day clearly.

It was Aemond’s brother Aegon’s yearly summer party, an elaborate excuse for the Targaryen’s oldest boy to get shit-faced with the elite of Westeros.

Aemond, never a fan of crowds or parties, had lured you into one of the guest bedrooms for some ‘quality time’ together, which quickly escalated into sex on the crisp, expensive cotton sheets.

You raise the volume, and can clearly hear the shameless moans leaving your mouth as your ex boyfriend makes you come on his tongue.

Your stomach turns.

The camera lingers far too long on your face, zooming in and out, capturing not only the sounds of your bliss, but each twitch and change in your face.

An overpowering sense of nausea washes over you as you realize that even then, someone was there.

Someone was watching, recording your most vulnerable moments from the shadows.

The video cuts off abruptly, and a new message appears beneath it,

“Even then, I was closer than you thought.”

Your blood runs cold, and your hands start to shake.

The message confirms your deepest fear.

This isn’t a recent obsession.

Whoever this person is, they’ve been watching you for far longer than you imagined, lurking in the background of your life, inserting themselves into your most private memories.

You try to breathe, to think clearly, but the walls of your apartment once again close in on you, trapping you inside your body, fighting to run yet with nowhere to go.

The sense of violation is suffocating, and questions flood your mind.

How long have they been there?

How much have they seen?

Desperate and out of options, you swipe your thumb over the screen of your phone, and call the only other person who might have some answers.

Aemond’s fingers tap restlessly against the rim of his coffee cup. The twitch in the corner of his mouth tells you he's annoyed, and the speed of which his eye darts around the coffee shop, refusing to look directly at you, lets you know it’s your fault.

You’re not sure if he can see the tears shining in your eyes, he’s barely looked at you since you came. He always saw crying as a sign of a weak mind, and so you do your best not to blink, scared a tear will fall and reveal just how pathetic you feel.

It’s not like you’re doing a good job hiding it anyway. The dark circles under your eyes and the paranoid pleading in your gaze betray all your recent troubles.

“I-, I’d like to thank you for coming here after how things… ended”

Your voice is steady, yet there is a thickness in your throat that makes you sound a bit strange, like you’re trying too hard to remain neutral. A performance you’re not quite pulling off, despite your best efforts.

“Mm”

He’s still not looking at you, stern face reflecting both disinterest and agitation. The relentless tapping of his finger continues, practically screaming at you to hurry up and confess why you asked your ex to meet up.

“I’ll get straight to it. Yesterday, I received a video of… us. At that party where we-”, you search his face for recognition, chase his eye so it meets yours. Your voice lowers, practically a whisper,

“-you know”

“No, I don’t”

“Aegon’s summer party… We snuck off to the guest room and-, you know”

Aemond finally lets his gaze meet yours, inspecting your features with a narrowed, suspicious eye.

Does he not believe you?

Before he can call you crazy, or dismiss your clear distress with a condescending laugh, you pull out your phone and show him the video. It’s a bit dark and gritty, but it’s clear that it’s the two of you, Aemond’s head between your legs, your own thrown back on the bed in bliss.

“Do-, do you know who could’ve done this?”

Aemond takes your phone and watches the video closely, pausing and zooming in on your half-naked body. He’s seen you bare and crazed with desire countless times when you were dating, yet your cheeks heat up and you feel unexplainably vulnerable as he carefully examines the video.

After a few moments of contemplation, he hums again and hands your phone back,

“I’ve no clue. I’ll ask Criston for the guest list, probably just one of Aegon’s insufferable friends having a laugh”

He stands to leave, and you momentarily panic at the thought of being alone again. Just as he turns towards the door, your hand desperately grabs the fabric of his coat, and those tears that had been threatening to spill from your eyes do just that,

“Aemond, please, I have more”

You sound so small. So defeated.

He looks at you with the same harsh, unimpressed look even as you silently cry.

So cold.

Maybe it’s what you deserve?

“I need you, Aemond. Please just stay for a few more minutes and let me explain”

He’s frozen for a while, contemplating whether he should indulge you or leave, surely eager to dismiss you just as you had done to him, only a month ago.

With a sigh, his features soften somewhat, and he steps back, once again taking the seat opposite you.

“Go on then”

“I-, I’ve been getting all these-”, your voice breaks into a sob as you speak about your recent nightmare.

You hadn’t dared speak to anyone about your recent terror, too afraid to acknowledge that what had occurred wasn’t simply some insane fever dream.

“-all these messages and letters from the same number that sent the video. I don’t know why but this person seems obsessed with me”

You hide your face behind one of your hands, mortified by the humiliation of openly crying at a cafe, next to your ex nonetheless.

Aemond observes you for a moment before reaching out to place his hand over yours, warming the skin of your cheek. He catches one of the tears falling from your lashes with his thumb,

“Send me screenshots of it all and I’ll have Criston’s team look through them. You know we own majority of King’s Guard Security, we’ll find whoever’s harassing you”

A sigh of relief escapes your lips, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe without a heavy stone of anxiety crushing your lungs.

You grab Aemond’s hand, warm and strong in your trembling grip, and squeeze it slightly,

“Thank you, Aemond”

Aemond convinces you to take a taxi home, lock the door, and distract your unease with something calming, like taking a bath.

You do just that, and the warm water enveloping you feels wonderfully comforting.

You sink deeper in the tub, disappearing into the calm warmth. Just as you breathe out a deep breath that had been stuck in your throat for far too long, a sharp knock to your front door disturbs your peace.

It’s as if a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped over you, and suddenly you shiver in the warm bath, feeling a chill overtaking you from within.

Another knock.

You’re frozen in place.

Immobile.

Stuck in fear.

You don’t know how long you sit in the tub, waiting for the courage to stand, dry off, and peek out of the bathroom.

There are no more knocks, and when your fingers are wrinkly and stiff, you finally get out.

Peering out of the bathroom and at your front door, everything looks the same. Your eyes dart around the room until they fall on the small, white piece of paper on the floor.

You pick it up with trembling fingers, and open it.

Before, the letters you’d received had been neatly placed in envelopes and never hand-written.

This note is different.

Let me in.

Tears of desperation well up in your eyes once more and you toss the piece of paper away as if it had burned you.

Utterly hopeless, you reach for your phone, dialing the number to the one person that had been occupying your mind all day.

Aemond sends for a car to come pick you up, going as far as instructing the driver to personally come get you from your flat since you feared the stalker was still somewhere nearby, watching you.

It was Criston Cole himself that showed up at your door, a high-ranking security specialist at King’s Guard Security, often invited to do risk analyses for the government.

Being reduced to a chauffeur was definitely far below his station, but when Aemond Targaryen hands you a task personally, you comply.

You wearily eye the pistol strapped to his waist as he walks you to his car. Your glad that precautions are taken to ensure your safety, but also devastated by the fact that it's even necessary.

Will this be your new normal?

The drive to Aemond’s place doesn’t take long, and when you arrive, he offers you a slightly awkward hug in reassurance before pouring you a double whiskey,

“To calm your nerves”

You accept the drink and take a seat on the leather sofa placed in the middle of the large room. In front of you, tall windows show an exquisite view of King’s Landing, including all famous landmarks like Maegor’s Holdfast. To your right, tall bookcases of dark wood line the wall, cutting into the modern sleekness of Aemond’s home, making it more him.

You take a large sip of the whiskey, not minding the sharp taste that overtakes your mouth. The numbness of alcohol feels inviting after being on edge for so long.

Aemond takes a seat next to you, his knee bumping into yours as he sits closer than necessary on the wide sofa,

“You can stay here as long as you want”

“Thank you, Aemond. That’s very kind of you”

A small smile forms on his lips at your compliment, and he looks down at his hands. It’s almost a bashful look, and suddenly you guilty for the way you had so cold-heartedly dumped him.

Sure, he had been controlling, but if the last couple of weeks had proven anything, it was the fact that danger really lurks around every corner.

Maybe he had only been so controlling because he knew how dangerous King’s Landing truly is for young women? He had direct access to all cases filed with King’s Guard Security, he’s surely seen a lot.

When you’ve finished your glass, Aemond wordlessly tops it up.

You finish that too, chatting a bit about work and what you’d been up to recently, prompted by Aemond asking and eagerly listening.

Your cheeks feel hot from the whiskey, and when you’ve finished your second drink, you place it on the glass-covered coffee table and lean into Aemond only a little more, surprisingly relaxed.

Your eyes feel heavy as you look up at him,

“Thank you. For everything today”

When he smiles, those dimples that you once adored appear in his cheeks. He’s so beautiful in the soft light. So inviting.

“Don’t mention it. The only thing I care about is that you’re safe”

You’re not sure if it’s a sudden wave for adoration, the long-awaited relief, or the whiskey, but when you stretch your neck to kiss him, Aemond cups your cheek and runs his tongue over your lower lip.

Your fingers feel tingly as they play with the buttons of Aemond’s crisp shirt. Your face is still comfortably warm, and when his kisses travel down to your neck, you sigh in content and throw your head back.

You watch the skyline of King’s Landing through the tall windows of Aemond’s home; white lights decorating the skyscrapers competing in height. There’s a strange, red dot decorating one of them, occasionally blinking.

Your eyes narrow to inspect it further, but quickly close as Aemond’s fingers slip into your underwear,

“I’ve missed this”, he murmurs into your neck, and sucks at the skin.

“Me too”, you sigh.

His fingers know exactly how to work you, and after a few more tender kisses to your neck and deliberate flicks to your clit, you meet his fingers with your hips, desperate for more.

Just as you’re about to fall apart, Aemond withdraws his hand.

He slowly licks your essence from his sticky fingers, amused by your pathetic frown,

“Please, Aemond. Don’t be mean”

Seeing him savour the taste of your cunt only makes it ache more.

“I’m not. You know what I want”

Maybe if you had less alcohol in your body, you’d realise how bad this is.

Fucking your ex is never a good idea.

But the heat of the whiskey warming your senses makes you reckless, and you smile as you kneel on the floor in front of him.

With eager fingers, you pull down his zipper and take his cock in hand, already hard and pulsating in arousal. Wasting no time, you lean forward to lick the tip before ungraciously taking him into your mouth, sucking as if your life depended on it.

Aemond tuts above you, a disapproving noise you know from when you were dating. You look up just as he moves his hands to cradle your face, mischief dancing in his eyes,

“You can do better than that” he says and pushes deeper, until his cock is in your throat and you can’t breathe.

He releases a prolonged sigh and stays buried in your throat, stealing air from you.

The harsh pounding between your thighs intensifies as the oxygen to your brain cuts off. You look up at Aemond, who regards you with a sinister grin, and shoves his foot between your kneeling legs, pushing at your clit.

It’s the last push you need, a playful kick to your swollen nub, and you come with his cock still deep in your throat.

With no air to inhale and an excruciatingly consuming orgasm coursing through your body, you feel too light-headed to keep your eyes open, ready to succumb and disappear into the abyss of bliss that is the orgasm Aemond forces out of you.

Before you lose consciousness, Aemond pulls out, a glistening sting of spit falling from your lips and spilling down your chin.

Your ears are pounding from the rush of finally being able to breathe again, yet you hear it, like an echo in the distance.

He’s laughing.

“Fuck, that’s a good little slut”, he praises you, “Getting off on choking on my cock”

He catches the drool on your chin with one hand, and forces you to stand with the other. Your legs still shake, and you stagger forward, almost falling into him.

He laughs again, amused or condescending, you can't tell, and manoeuvres you to kneel on the sofa facing away from the city landscape.

He brings the hand covered in your drool between your cheeks, and trails it down to your clit. You gasp at the sting of overstimulation, but Aemond’s hand doesn’t budge,

“You weren’t supposed to come from that, dirty girl”, he taunts you with a playful yet harsh smack to your ass. You whine and try to pull away, it’s all too much.

“I wanted to tease you for a bit longer”, he whispers into your ear, and you can feel the leaking tip of his cock press between your cheeks,

“I won’t be mean though. My precious girl deserves better”

He slides in easily, the mess of your slickness, spit, and Aemond’s precum easing his path.

You lean forward to brace yourself against the backrest of the sofa as he starts to fuck you, pace quick and hard, just as you remember him liking it.

"Aemond", you moan and he goes harder, the smacks of his hips hitting the meat of your ass loud and vulgar in the quiet night,

“Say it again”, he orders and pulls at your hair so your head falls back, “Just like that, baby, you look so fucking hot when I fuck you”

When you don’t comply fast enough, he pulls at your hair harder. You cry out his name, and he rewards your submission with a kiss to your cheek,

“Good girl”

After that day, things change.

Aemond sends cars to pick you up from work so you won’t have to get on the tube. He distracts you from the eerie shiver that’s settled into your bones by bringing you out to dinner, to the cinema, to a new wine bar.

He allows you to lean against him whenever you talk about the nightmare that the last few weeks have been. He even puts an arm around you, and occasionally presses his lips to the crown of your head. And he always listens carefully.

The controlling tendencies that had previously chased you away now provide comfort.

He knows where you are at all times, so no one can steal you away.

He always answers your calls, so you never have to feel alone.

He always meets your needs, whether it’s letting you talk shit about your boss for hours, or excitedly chat about a book you just read.

He's always near.

Always ready.

Always watching.

A/N: Thanks for reading! If you liked this and want more, check out my fic The Commune!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #my fics

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javierpena-inatacvest · 19 days ago

Text

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree

Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺

A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!

Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.”

“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.”

There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist.

“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.”

“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep.

After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity.

Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December.

It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls.

“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.”

“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.”

“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders.

“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.”

Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks.

“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?”

“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-”

“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face.

It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.

“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern.

“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion.

“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.”

You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind.

For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.

“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.”

“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?”

It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip.

“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.”

“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him.

“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.”

Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on.

Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for.

“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response.

“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.”

It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough.

“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.”

Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet.

“Javi, we can go upstairs and-”

“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.”

Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family.

“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.”

“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull.

“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.”

Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters.

“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin.

It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him.

Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.

Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him.

Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand.

“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs.

“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him.

You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours.

“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded.

“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame.

If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him.

“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.”

You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest.

“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way.

Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths.

“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.”

You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you.

“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!”

It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath.

“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high.

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you.

“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.”

“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest.

“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.”

“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns.

“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.”

“Oh my god, you are the worst.”

The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents.

“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw.

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.”

“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

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@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

1K notes · View notes

covenofagatha · 8 days ago

Note

hiiii <33

Could you write something about Agatha being a little insecure about being older than the reader?

Maybe they're at a party and someone the reader's age is going to talk to her and Agatha feels jealous and a little insecure, but pretend not to feel anything?

Then they go home and the reader shows Agatha that she loves her more than anything :)

If it's not too much to ask, the reader could have an obsession with Agatha's breasts and... really like eating her out? (like, a *really* big obsession) (sorry, Mrs Fletcher is on my mind a lot lately)

sorry for the details, lol, this came to me in the middle of the night

and by the way, I love your writing <33 you write very well

and I'm looking forward to the but you are my stepmother update :D

kisseess <3

I may have changed the setting a little bit (I've been watching Succession and was influenced lol) but hopefully you like! Also, Mrs. Fletcher literally changed my life so I completely understand

I combined this one with another request for being obsessed with Agatha’s breasts

Happy New Year to everyone!

Glitter on the floor

When Agatha gets jealous at the company New Year's Eve party, you remind her that she has nothing to worry about

Word count: 4300

Warnings: oral sex, oral fixation, breast fixation, marking

“Do you think anyone would notice if we just leave before the party even starts?” You ask, throwing a stress ball up in the air and catching it without even looking.

You’re laying on your back on the couch in Agatha’s office and she snorts from her seat at her desk.

Unlike you, when Agatha said she was going up to her office to quickly read over a contract before the company New Year’s Eve party, she meant it. You had just followed her up here to see if she was willing to get up to any funny business.

“You don’t think they would notice that the CEO and General Counsel of the company aren’t at the company party?” Agatha asks amusedly, sarcasm dripping from her tone.

Spellbound Network is a multi-billion dollar news conglomerate that Agatha Harkness is the Chief Executive Officer of. She’s absolutely ruthless and doesn’t hesitate before tearing anybody and everybody down. Nothing will stand in her way of world domination.

As General Counsel, you’re a little less important, but you know that Agatha is right. The last thing you need is people speculating.

The two of you have been involved in a more than professional relationship for seven months now. It all started when you offered to stay late to help her finish up with some end-of-quarterly reviews before the deadline and the two of you had ended up going out for drinks when you had finally finished. Agatha had let her hair down and told you just how stressed she was, and you had stupidly told her that you could help her relieve some of that stress.

She had raised an eyebrow and you had taken it as a challenge. The next thing you knew, she was calling a car and the two of you were making out in the backseat on the way to her penthouse.

It had grown into a relationship, a relationship that no one else in the office knew about. Things were getting pretty serious, and Agatha had even brought up you moving in with her.

But you roll your eyes anyway. “It’ll be boring,” you drag out the last word slowly, sitting up to face her. “Wouldn’t you rather go back to your place, or even just stay up here?” You give her an impish grin and a wink.

It’s a lost cause. Agatha has never let you touch her nor has she touched you in the office.

She fixes you with a glare. “If you’re not going to behave, you can go downstairs and help set up for the party.”

You hum in acquiescence and you’re about to resume your position on your back when Agatha leans forward and props herself up on her elbows, pushing her visible cleavage together.

Your mouth runs dry. She’s wearing a long black dress with a low neckline that puts her breasts — that you may or may not be obsessed with — very much on display. You wouldn’t be surprised if she did it to tease you.

“Agatha,” you whine, trying to sound pathetic so she’ll take pity on you. You can practically taste her skin with how badly you want her.

She knows what you’re thinking, as always. “Stop,” she says without even looking up from her desk. “You aren’t going to goad me into touching you. Hasn’t worked any other time, isn’t going to work now.”

You pout. “What are you talking about? I’ve never tried to.” It’s a bold-faced lie and you both know it.

“Oh yeah?” She asks, at last looking up at you. “So when you got me that vibrator for the Secret Santa at the Christmas party, ‘not realizing that it was a public gift swap’; that wasn’t an attempt to work me up? Or when you just happen to come in here almost every day and knock over my pens so you have to bend down and shake your ass in my face?”

You can’t help but chuckle at the reminders of your brazenness. To be fair, you had genuinely thought that the Secret Santa swap would be done in a group but then the gifts would be opened alone. And much to your surprise, you were wrong and when Rio Vidal, the head of Human Resources, had announced that it was time for everyone to open their gifts, you had quickly dragged Agatha upstairs, making some excuse about a phone call about a breaking news story.

She had been furious at almost having to open your gift in front of the entire staff, and instead of having a very Merry Christmas Eve, courtesy of your generous gift and a well-placed bribe to the person who had actually drawn Agatha in the swap, she hadn’t touched you at all that night.

But Christmas Day was much better, when she had put you on your knees for almost an hour and you made her cum four times with just your mouth.

“You’re not letting those go anytime soon, are you?” You mutter.

She throws a paper clip at you. “Go downstairs and stop bothering me,” she orders, fondness still in her voice.

You huff a big sigh, one that tells her that just because you’re obeying doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, and walk over to place the paper clip and stress ball back on her desk. You straighten out your own dress, a long maroon one, and lean over to press a chaste kiss to her lips.

To your surprise, she lets you do it and she even deepens it, flicking her tongue against the entrance to your mouth. When she pulls away, her eyes are dark and you’re about to ask her to reconsider, but she ushers you away with her hand and turns back to the contract.

There’s not very many people in the lobby where the party is taking place, so you stand alone at a table and accept a glass of champagne from a waitress. It’s only ten pm and you know most of the staff won’t get here until closer to midnight, which would’ve been smart.

If only Agatha hadn’t insisted that you and her come in for the entire day and get ahead of all the stuff that’s coming up in the new year. She didn’t even let you go back to your apartment once you both had finished, instead letting you shower in her private adjoining bathroom.

And she wonders why you’re already so bored; you’ve been at the office for fourteen hours.

Still at least two more to go.

You take another glass of champagne and set it down next to your already half-empty glass. You’re going to need it once more people start showing up.

It’s not that you don’t like them, it’s just that…if the building was on fire, you’d only really think or care about saving Agatha.

“Hey there, General Counsel,” Rio says, slinking up to you.

You smile. She’s an oddball, but her wry sense of humor sometimes is the only thing that gets you through business trips. Besides Agatha, of course.

And it’s not exactly a secret that she has a bit of a crush on you. On paper, it would make more sense than you and Agatha. Rio is your age, and for all intents and purposes, doesn’t have any power over you, nor you her.

But you’re in love with Agatha, and older women have always been more your type anyway. You’re perfectly happy with being friends with Rio, and it seems that Rio is content with your relationship now too.

“Hey, Rio,” you greet, lifting your glass in a silent toast to her. She lifts up the other one and smoothly downs it in one gulp.

And then the elevator dings and Agatha steps out and you forget all about Rio and everyone else. Your eyes follow her as she glides through the lobby, not even looking at you once, and she picks up a plate of caviar while the Chief Financial Officer, Jimmy, goes to talk to her.

Rio taps her fingers to the rim of the empty glass. “So, I heard Harkness is thinking about acquiring Hex Industries for better tech.”

“Water cooler gossip,” you say dismissively, not wanting to talk anymore business for the day. You’ve done enough with that with Agatha. And then you lower your voice conspiratorially. “But I did hear that Jimmy got divorced again?”

It sends Rio into a fit of giggles and the two of you swap the details you’ve heard from various people and try to piece together what really happened. It does make the party go by faster and before you know it, there’s only about an hour before midnight.

You cannot wait to go home with Agatha and forget all about work and this party and just focus on her. Ever since she changed into the dress she’s wearing tonight, you haven’t been able to focus with how delicious her breasts look in it.

Some might call it an oral fixation, some might call it mommy issues, but there’s no denying how much you love to suck on her nipples. And to eat her out.

Fuck. You can’t be thinking about that. Rio is saying something, something now about Tony, the Chief Operating Officer, and you’re shifting your weight thinking about the sounds Agatha makes when you get your mouth on her.

You look around the room and you find her, standing alone, nursing her own glass of champagne. But what startles you is that she’s already watching you with a strange look on her face. You give her a small smile, your heart filling with adoration for the older woman, but she looks away.

“Will you excuse me for a second?” You say to Rio, who nods. You walk over to Agatha and slide up next to her, your hand brushing against her lower back. “You okay?” You murmur into her ear.

Agatha clears her throat and rolls her shoulders back and you have to make a pointed effort not to stare at her boobs that get pushed forward. “Just ready for this party to be over,” she says, voice clipped.

“Oh yeah?” You whisper, cocking an eyebrow. “What do you have planned for when we get home?”

She looks at you, finally looks at you, and you can see a guarded look in her eye. “We’ve had a long day, and this party won’t be done until after midnight. I’ll probably turn in.”

“Oh, Mommy, your age is showing,” you tease mockingly in a hush, wearing a dramatic pout, another joke about how much older she is that she usually rolls her eyes at and then makes a comment about how much you like it.

But she stiffens today. “Well, you’re more than welcome to go home with Rio if you want someone your own age.” The retort hits you like a punch in the gut and you’re left dumbfounded as she walks away, heels clacking on the floor.

Is she…jealous? Surely Agatha can’t be, she knows how much you want her and love her. She knows how willing you are to show her.

And maybe, just maybe, she’ll let you remind her right now.

You check your watch. Forty-five minutes until midnight. You can feel her gaze from across the room, but when you try to make eye contact, she pretends like she isn’t looking at you, and you make the executive decision to try something that will probably backfire.

Pulling out your phone, you pretend to take a call. You can feel her air shift; she knows that if someone’s calling you this late, it must be something urgent. You nod like you’re listening and then after a minute or two, you put your phone down.

You meet her eyes and tilt your head toward the elevator, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. This could backfire. She could get so mad at you.

But you have to try.

Agatha excuses herself from the small group of people that have congregated around her table and she follows you into the elevator.

“Who was that? What’s wrong?” She demands, and you almost feel bad for making her this panicked.

You shake your head. “Just wait until we get to your office.” You think it should be a hint, but she doesn’t pick up on it. Instead, Agatha chews on her bottom lip and tosses her hair back over her shoulders.

The doors ding open on the sixtieth floor and Agatha trails behind you, hot on your heels, as you take her to her office. You tell her to get on the couch while you draw the blinds to the glass windows facing the interior of the building, just in case anyone should happen to walk by. The television is on outside in the hallway and you can faintly hear the sounds of the New York Ball Drop show. A little over thirty minutes left.

“What is going on?” Agatha asks again, clearly exasperated by you dragging this out.

You turn around and almost moan at the sight of her sitting with her knees pulled up under her and her elbow propped up on the couch. This time, you really can’t help your gaze from darting down to her breasts and she snaps her fingers to get you to focus. “Rio’s just a friend,” you say bluntly, and Agatha scoffs.

“What does this have to do with anything?”

You slowly walk over and kneel down in front of her, pulling her legs out so that her feet are on the floor and you rest your chin on her knee and look up at her through your eyelashes. “There wasn’t a call,” you confess, already wincing on the inside at how she’s going to react. Her face remains stoic. “You were bothered by Rio and I talking.” It’s a statement, not a question.

But Agatha jeers. “Is this your excellent counsel that I pay you so much for? That I’m bothered? Don’t think I don’t know about the little crush she has on you.”

“So what if she has a crush? I don’t like her like that. You know I only have eyes for you,” you say, slowly inching the hem of her dress up her legs, waiting to be rejected.

Her hand slides up your head and fastens into your hair, tilting you back so you can look straight at her. “Oh yeah?” She asks, daring, challenging you to go further.

You swallow hard. “Let me show you?” You offer timidly, praying it’s the right answer and you’re not reading this wrong.

Agatha growls, a guttural noise deep in her throat, and she yanks you up and kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. Her tongue forces its way into your mouth and you moan at the feeling, settling into her lap with your legs on either side of hers. She tugs at your hair and the sting makes you keen, only making you need her more.

You can’t even wait, you’ve been on edge for too long, and you trail your lips down her neck, scrape your teeth against her collarbone, and then she helps you take the straps of her dress off.

The second her breasts are free, you’re on them like you’re starving and they’re your salvation. You cup both of them with your hands, feeling the sturdy weight of them, and you knead softly, running your thumbs over both nipples. The dusky rose color stands out against her pale skin and you watch with fascination as her nipples harden under your gentle touch. Part of you still can’t believe she’s letting you touch her in the office.

Not that you’re complaining.

You swoop down and take one into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the little bud, and Agatha’s back arches off the couch as her fingers dig into your hair to keep you there. You’ve never felt more content in your life than like this, and you happily suck on her as the most delicious sounding noises fall out of her mouth.

Her free hand finds your hip just as your fingers tug at her nipple that isn’t being occupied by your mouth and you can make out what she wants. Without moving away from her, you shift and place a leg in-between hers, able to feel the heat radiating from her pussy through her underwear and dress.

“Fuck,” you mutter brokenly when she grinds up against your knee and you can feel just how wet she is.

Agatha huffs out a chuckle. “You love sucking on Mommy’s tits so much, don’t you?” She asks and you switch sides and hum against her skin. “Mommy loves it, too.”

You groan and take a break from directly stimulating her, instead, opting to lightly bite at the skin around her nipples, taking extra care to mark the curvature under them. She’s especially sensitive there, and her little gasps only spur you on.

After you’ve left sufficient proof that you were there, you pull back and admire your work and you sharply inhale. Her breasts are absolutely painted with red marks that will surely fade into bruises by tomorrow and her chest heaves, a ragged look in her eyes. Agatha is still undulating against your leg and you can visibly tell how turned on she is.

“Am I convincing you yet?” You ask, your voice coming out a little hoarse, and Agatha barks out a laugh.

Her wicked grin has a thrill running inside you and she shifts underneath you until you figure out what she is trying to do. It’s a bit awkward, but she manages to turn her body so that her legs are on the couch horizontally but you’re still on top of her.

She hums thoughtfully. “Think I might need a little more. If you’re willing, that is.”

Only too willing. You can’t help yourself from leaning down and giving her a hard kiss, pulling away and sucking one nipple and then the other roughly until she moans, and then you move down her body and bunch up her dress at her hips. You put your hands on her shins and guide her legs up so they’re bent, her heels on the couch.

And then you settle between her open legs and mouth at her sopping cunt through her underwear. A groan tears out of you before you can stop it at tasting the wet fabric, thick with her scent which you’ve become addicted to. You suck on her underwear, pulling the moisture out of it, and Agatha jerks underneath you.

“We don’t have all day, pet,” she says tightly and you can hear the television outside saying there’s fifteen minutes left until New Year’s Day.

You chuckle at her impatience and finally pull down her underwear. You wish your dress had pockets so you could store it for later, but you made do for just throwing it somewhere in her office.

And then you drag your tongue up her slit and absolutely lose yourself in the taste. There’s something so indistinguishable and indescribable about it, and you lazily explore her pussy, getting as much of her wetness as you can into your mouth. You vaguely realize that she’s wrapped a leg over your shoulder and her heel is digging in, the sting only turning you on more.

Small gasps are pulled out of Agatha’s mouth and her hips buck, trying to get more stimulation, but to no avail as you are completely focused on just licking her slowly. You moan into her and the vibrations make her whimper, but you almost don’t even hear it. This is your favorite place on earth, between her legs, and you don’t want to ever leave. She’s so warm and wet and responsive against your tongue and you fucking love it. Love getting her wetness all over your face, love feeling her clench around your tongue, love the taste and smell and how she reacts when you lap at her clit.

You do that now, and her thighs tighten around your head and she sighs like she’s finally getting some of the relief that she needs.

“I love your pussy,” you say, but the words are garbled. She lets out a muffled sound and you look up through hooded eyes to see her head strewn back in pleasure, dark hair fanned out beneath her, bottom lip between her teeth, and her fingers tweaking her raw nipples. The sight makes you moan against her again and her hips jump.

She looks down to meet your gaze and you feel the fire inside you only being stoked more when you realize that almost all the blue in her eyes is gone, entirely swallowed up by dark desire. “Please,” she begs, sounding more needy than she ever has since you’ve started sleeping with her. “Mommy needs this so bad.”

And the only thing you love more than tasting her with your mouth is making her cum with your mouth.

So you oblige, thrusting your tongue inside her and almost losing all composure when her walls flutter around it. She lets out a loud whine when your nose brushes against her clit and you keep doing that, curling your tongue inside her and moving your head up and down so she can get some desperately needed stimulation to her clit.

“Fuck, baby, your mouth is so good,” she practically sobs, and you can feel her throb. She never takes long, which is almost a shame because you’d stay between her legs forever if you could. Building her up, feeling her legs tremble around you, that’s half the fun right there.

But she needs it, and you can hear that it’s getting closer to midnight. Only a few minutes left.

You double the intensity, dragging your tongue over her clit again and again, feeling it pulse. You slip a hand between your own legs and groan at the wetness you find, fingers strumming at your own clit through your dress and soaked panties. Nothing gets you more turned on than Agatha’s pussy in your mouth, absolutely coating your face.

She’s pinching her nipples now and you almost lose your rhythm from wishing you were the one doing that to her, but you don’t falter. Wetness is dripping out of her cunt onto the couch below and you almost smirk at the thought of seeing the stain tomorrow.

Agatha better let you fuck her in her office more often. You clench at the thought of being under her desk, eating her out while she’s going through contracts or in a meeting or having lunch. Anytime you can.

“Fuck, fuck, baby,” she chants and you can hear the minute countdown start. You lick and suck and nip and her hips are moving furiously, grinding on your face and you can’t breathe but you don’t even care because she tastes so fucking good.

“Five…four…” You shove your tongue inside her and curl it up, stroking against the spongy spot that makes her gasp. “Three..two…” You scrape your teeth against her clit and she keens. “One…Happy New Year!”

You suck her clit into your mouth hard and that does it. She goes flying over the edge, wetness gushing out onto your face, and you blissfully lick her through her orgasm, not even realizing that she’s too sensitive until she’s tugging at your hair, pulling you away from her.

She brings you in for a kiss, a tradition when the clock strikes midnight on January First, but also something she always does when you eat her out, moaning at the taste of herself on your lips, and you don’t even care that you haven’t cum yet. You clasp her cheeks and your tongue sweeps into her mouth until you finally have to break apart to breathe.

“What a way to start the new year,” you joke and she laughs and fluffs her hair. She looks like a thoroughly-fucked mess, but also the hottest you’ve ever seen. You soften and press a gentle kiss to her lips. “You know I love you, right? I don’t care about how old you are, you know I fucking love that. You don’t have to worry about Rio, or anyone else, no matter if they’re my age or not. I want you and only you.”

Agatha smiles and kisses you again, and then kisses your nose. “I want all your midnight kisses, baby. I love you too.” It’s the most romantic thing she’s ever said.

And of course you immediately have to ruin it with a joke. “Office sex isn’t that bad, hm?” She pokes your side and you giggle.

“Let’s get back downstairs before anyone notices that we’ve been gone for so long,” she says.

You whine but reluctantly get off her when she pats your hips and she finds her underwear that was thrown to the ground. You both fix your make-up in the mirror and then you’re back in the elevator, descending the sixty floors. If anyone asks, you’ll say it was an emergency with an acquisition. But you doubt anyone will. The champagne is flowing and it’s a party.

Before the doors open, Agatha takes your hand, squeezes it three times as if to say I love you and then there’s a ding and it’s back to reality.

But she gives you a wink meant only for you when she toasts to the company and all the good things yet to come and a warm feeling fills you.

What a way to start the new year, indeed.

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along

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jenosbliss · 7 days ago

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🍇🎀ᝢ grapes under the table?

pairing. fem!reader x bsf!jeno | genre. fluff, friends to lovers | wc. 1k | warnings. none

a/n:: happy new year! btw did anyone tried the 12 grapes under the table thing?

“Why do you even want to try this?” Jeno asked, his tone caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief as he crouched under the small dorm table with you, holding a bowl of grapes like it was the most absurd task he’d ever been asked to do.

You rolled your eyes, pushing the bowl of grapes into his hands. “It’s not like I’m throwing salt over my shoulder or reading tea leaves. It’s harmless. And who knows? Maybe it’ll work!”

“You don’t even believe in this stuff,” he shot back, holding up a grape and inspecting it like it was an artifact.

“I also don’t believe in horoscopes, but I still check mine every morning,” you countered, leaning back against the table leg. “But after twenty-something years of being single, desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Jeno’s chest tightened at your words. He’d heard this complaint a million times before—your usual dramatic groaning about how unfair the dating scene was, about how no one ever liked you. But tonight, sitting under the table with you, something about it hit differently.

He remembered the evening he’d seen you at that café with some guy from your class. He’d never thought of himself as the jealous type, but watching you lean in with that laugh—the one you reserved for people you really liked—had made his stomach churn. But when the date didn’t turn into anything more, he buried the realization deep. You were his best friend, and losing you wasn’t worth the risk.

And now? The thought of this little superstition actually working, of you finding someone who wasn’t him? That made him want to throw the grapes out the window.

“You stayed back for this?” Jeno asked, his voice dipping into that teasing tone he always used to cover up his feelings. “You never skip parties, and it’s New Year’s Eve.”

“You’ve been skipping a lot of them lately, too,” you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. His heart stuttered. Yeah, because of you. “I just didn’t feel like going this time,” he lied.

You studied him for a moment before sighing, your gaze dropping to the bowl of grapes in his lap. “I don’t get why everyone makes such a big deal about New Year’s,” you said as if stating the obvious, your tone softer now. “It’s just a change of date. Not like Christmas or Thanksgiving, where there’s something to celebrate.”

Jeno watched you as you spoke, your expression pensive, your voice tinged with that familiar mix of frustration and longing. He’d heard this all before—how you hated being the only one without a date, how everyone seemed to find someone except you. He used to laugh at your complaints, teasing you until you smiled again.

But now? The thought of someone else being that person for you, the one who turned your complaints into laughter and made your eyes light up—it terrified him.

“Fine,” he said eventually, picking up a grape. “Let’s eat these grapes and see if your superstition works. But if you get a boyfriend this year, I’m blaming the table.”

You laughed, handing him a grape. “Deal. Now, eat.”

The two of you began eating, one grape for each month of the year. With every bite, Jeno’s heart beat louder, his thoughts spiralling. What if it actually worked? What if this silly little tradition actually brought someone into your life? What if someone else swept you off your feet and he had to watch from the sidelines?

As you popped the last grape into your mouth, you grinned triumphantly. “Done! If this works, I’m buying grapes by the crate every year.”

Jeno hesitated, his grip tightening on the bowl. His chest felt heavy, like the words he’d been holding in were threatening to spill over. “What if I don’t want it to work?”

You blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

He set the bowl aside, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “What if I don’t want you to find someone else? What if… I want to be your boyfriend?”

The words hung in the air, the weight of them pressing against your chest. “Jeno…” You stared at him, your lips parted in shock.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “I stayed back tonight because I didn’t want to be anywhere else. I don’t want to watch you love someone else. I want it to be me.”

Your heart raced as the truth in his voice sank in. The boy who’d always been your anchor, your constant, was now baring his heart to you. “You’ve always been my best friend,” you said softly. “I never thought you—”

“That’s the problem,” he interrupted, his tone urgent. “You never thought. But I did. I’ve been thinking about it since the day I saw you on that stupid café date, and it scared the hell out of me. I’ve loved you longer than I even realized, and I’m done pretending I don’t.”

You stared at him, the room suddenly too small, too warm, too charged with everything you hadn’t let yourself feel until this moment. “Jeno,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Ask me again.”

His brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “Ask me again,” you repeated, your voice steadier this time.He swallowed hard, his hand reaching for yours. “Can I be your boyfriend?”

A smile broke across your face as you nodded. “Yes. You can.” Relief flooded his expression, and before either of you could second-guess it, he leaned forward, his hand cradling your cheek as his lips met yours.

The kiss was soft, tentative at first, but quickly deepened as you melted into him. His touch was warm and steady, his thumb brushing against your skin as if to reassure you this was real.

When you finally pulled back, breathless and grinning, Jeno rested his forehead against yours. “Guess I owe the grapes an apology.”

You laughed, the sound light and free. “You do.”

For the first time, New Year’s felt like more than just a change of date. It felt like the beginning of something real—something that had been waiting for the right moment all along.

As Jeno held you close under that tiny dorm table, you couldn’t help but think: this was the best start to a year yet. And just like that, New Year’s Eve didn’t feel so pointless anymore.

navigation.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

#nct dream #jeno #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader #jeno x reader #jeno imagines #jeno fluff #jeno lee #nct #nct fluff #nct fics #nct imagines #nct scenarios #jeno scenarios #jeno nct #boyfriend #new year #new year's eve

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dollishmehrayan · 9 days ago

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# “IS IT NEW YEAR’S YET, I’M GETTIN’ BORED, SO CAN WE SKIP AHEAD?” ── .✦. ( a drabble of celebrating with batboys new years with batboys !! )

a/n: it’s 2025 oml, this year has been filled with ups and downs and many tears, many smiles, I wish that I live longer enough to enough plenty of years in peace, for 2025 my New Year’s resolution is to expand my interests && meet new people and friends and to be kind, understandable, happy, and positive and poetic !! Tags: (batboys x fem!reader)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick insists on going out for New Year’s Eve. He loves the energy of the city and wants to celebrate with you in style.

He takes you to a rooftop party with the best view of Gotham’s fireworks. He’s that guy pulling you onto the dance floor and spinning you around until your cheeks hurt from smiling.

When the countdown begins, he gets super excited, holding your hands and hyping up the moment like, “This is it! Best year yet, babe!”, “it’s just new years dick calm down.”

At midnight, he gives you a movie-worthy kiss, dipping you slightly for dramatic effect.

After the party, you both grab late-night street food and walk around the city, talking about your hopes for the new year.

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason prefers a quieter New Year’s Eve at home, but he doesn’t mind doing something small if it makes you happy.

He sets up a cozy evening with your favorite snacks, drinks, and a movie marathon. “This is better than overpriced parties and sweaty crowds, right?”

As the clock nears midnight, he’ll make a sarcastic comment like, “Think 2025 will be the year Gotham finally gets its act together?”

At midnight, he gives you a sweet kiss and mumbles, “Here’s to another year of putting up with me.

If you want to do something fun, he might take you to a rooftop to watch fireworks. He holds you close and pretends it’s just for warmth, but he’s smiling the whole time.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim’s ideal New Year’s involves a mix of productivity and relaxation. He plans a cute night in where you can both reflect on the past year and set goals for the new one.

He buys a journal or a vision board for the two of you to fill out together. “Okay, what’s your most unrealistic goal for this year? Let’s make it happen.”

He struggles to stay awake as midnight approaches, though. You catch him dozing off during a movie, and he grumbles when you wake him. “I’m not asleep I’m resting my eyes.”

At midnight, he kisses you softly and murmurs, “Thanks for making this year better.”

If you want to go out, he’ll humor you with a cute date to a low-key café or a small gathering with friends.

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian treats New Year’s as a time to improve himself. He’s not into big parties, but he’ll indulge your preferences to make you happy.

If you want to stay in, he sets up a fancy dinner for the two of you with candles and elegant dishes he helped Alfred prepare. “We’ll celebrate properly, without the chaos.”

He rolls his eyes at New Year’s resolutions but secretly sets a few for himself, especially involving you. “Fine. I resolve to… be more patient with you.” (You tease him for that.)

At midnight, he gives you a shy but heartfelt kiss and says, “I’m glad you’re in my life this year.”

If you convince him to watch fireworks, he’ll grumble about the noise but eventually relaxes when you lean against him.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce makes New Year’s a classy affair. He takes you to a gala or hosts an elegant party at Wayne Manor.

He’s by your side the whole night, introducing you to important guests and making sure you feel like the most important person in the room.

At midnight, he’ll find a quiet corner to steal a private moment with you, giving you a soft, lingering kiss and whispering, “Thank you for making this year so much brighter.”

If you prefer something low-key, he’ll cancel all plans and spend the evening with you at home. You’ll share champagne by the fire, reminiscing about the past year.

He’s the type to surprise you with a meaningful gift at the stroke of midnight, like a bracelet engraved with the date or a key to the Manor if you don’t already live there.

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moonlightwritingf1 · 10 days ago

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More Than a Ride Home | LN4

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐summary ━━━━━━━ Y/N and Lando share a close New Year's Eve, leading to a deeper connection and the realization of their feelings.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ⋅ᡣ𐭩 ་༘࿐ word count ━━━━━━━ 3.1k

The low hum of music played in the background as laughter echoed throughout Max and Pietra's apartment. The New Year’s Eve party was in full swing, champagne bottles popping and conversations flowing freely. Y/N stood near the edge of the room, a glass of red wine in her hand and a soft smile on her lips as she listened to Pietra animatedly retelling a story.

Lando’s eyes had been on her all night. He was sitting on the couch with Max, seemingly engaged in conversation, but his gaze drifted to Y/N every chance he got. She looked stunning tonight, her figure hugged by a sleek black dress that fell just above her knees. Her cheeks were flushed—either from the wine or the warmth of the room—and she seemed relaxed, a contrast to the guarded demeanor she often carried.

Max, noticing his friend’s distraction, chuckled and nudged Lando’s arm. “You know, if you stare any harder, you might just set her on fire.”

Lando smirked, not even bothering to deny it. “I can’t help it. She’s…different tonight. Happy. She deserves to always look that happy.”

Max rolled his eyes. “You’ve got it bad, mate.''

“Don’t I know it,” Lando muttered, taking another sip of his soda. He didn’t drink, not even on celebratory occasions like tonight, but he didn’t mind. Y/N was on her second—no, third—glass of wine, and the sight of her relaxed and giggling was worth staying sober for.

As the night wore on, guests began to trickle out, offering hugs and cheers of “Happy New Year!” before disappearing into the cold London night. By the time the clock struck three, only a handful of people remained, including Y/N, who was now leaning against the kitchen counter with Pietra, laughing uncontrollably at something Max had said.

“She’s drunk,” Max observed with a grin, leaning closer to Lando. “Might want to keep an eye on her before she starts dancing on the furniture.”

Lando chuckled. “Drunk Y/N is harmless. A little giggly, maybe, but harmless.”

“She’s also single,” Max teased. “Perfect opportunity for you to make your move.”

“Not like that,” Lando said firmly. “I’m not taking advantage of her being drunk.”

Max raised his hands in mock surrender. “Relax. I was kidding. But seriously, she’s staying here late, and she’ll need a ride home. Pietra’s already giving me that ‘we need to clean up’ look, so…”

Lando nodded. “I’ve got her. Don’t worry.”

The laughter and hum of conversation were starting to fade in the background as the party began to wind down. Lando couldn’t help but notice Y/N standing by the balcony door, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the city lights outside. She held a nearly empty glass of red wine in her hand, and her cheeks were flushed—either from the alcohol or the warmth of the crowded apartment. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Y/N,” he called softly as he approached her, his voice low enough to ensure it wouldn’t startle her.

She turned to him, her movements slightly slower than usual. Her face lit up when she saw him, her eyes sparkling under the dim lights. “Lando! Hi!” she said, her voice higher-pitched than usual, her excitement exaggerated by the alcohol coursing through her veins.

He chuckled, the corners of his mouth pulling into a soft smile. “Hi,” he replied, reaching out to gently take the glass from her hand. “I think you’ve had enough of this.”

Her lips formed a pout, exaggerated and playful. “Oh, come on, I was just starting to have fun.”

“You’re plenty fun without another glass of wine,” he teased, his tone warm and teasing but firm enough to convey that he wasn’t going to let her argue. “But it’s late, and I think you need to get home.”

She blinked at him, her brows furrowing slightly as if she were processing his words through a fog. “Oh. Yeah, I guess.” Then, almost immediately, her expression shifted, and a cheeky grin spread across her face as she stepped closer to him. “Are you my knight in shining armor? Here to rescue me from…uh…Pietra’s couch?”

Lando laughed, the sound deep and genuine. His heart skipped a beat at how unfiltered and carefree she was when tipsy, a side of her he rarely got to see. “If you want to put it that way, sure. Come on, I’ll drive you.”

“Okay!” she said, practically chirping the word as she turned to grab her purse from the counter. In her eagerness, she stumbled slightly, and Lando was quick to catch her, his hands steadying her by the waist.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

“Yup!” she replied, looking up at him with a bright smile. She didn’t seem fazed by the stumble or his hands on her, though Lando was acutely aware of the warmth of her skin under his palms.

He shook his head with a small laugh, more at himself than her. “Let’s get you home, princess.”

Getting her down to his car was an adventure in itself. She insisted on saying goodbye to everyone—twice—and even tried to convince Pietra to give her another glass of wine, which Lando quickly intercepted.

“You are absolutely done for the night,” he said, guiding her gently toward the door.

“I’m not even that drunk!” she argued, though her giggles and slightly wobbly steps betrayed her.

Lando raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. “Right. Not drunk at all.”

When they finally made it outside, the crisp London air hit her, and she let out a dramatic gasp. “It’s so cold!”

“You should’ve brought a jacket,” Lando said, slipping off his own and draping it over her shoulders before she could protest.

She looked up at him, her expression momentarily soft and almost shy. “Thank you,” she murmured, pulling the jacket tighter around her.

“Anytime,” he replied, his voice quiet but sincere.

He opened the car door for her, and she slid in with a content sigh, the warmth of his jacket and the cozy car contrasting with the chill outside.

The city lights passed by in a blur as Lando drove through the quiet streets, his focus split between the road and the woman in his passenger seat. Y/N had her head tilted back against the headrest, a dreamy smile on her lips.

“Why don’t you drink?” she asked suddenly, her voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Lando glanced at her briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “Just never liked the idea of it,” he said with a shrug. “I like being in control, especially when I’m out with people I care about.”

Her smile widened, and she turned to face him fully, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “So you’re a control freak?”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Not exactly. I just like knowing I can take care of people if something happens. Like tonight, for example.”

She tilted her head, her expression softening. “That’s…nice. You’re nice.”

“Don’t let that get around,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood despite the warmth spreading through his chest at her words.

“Why not?” she asked, her voice tinged with genuine confusion.

He grinned. “Because then everyone will want me to drive them home after parties.”

She burst out laughing, the sound uninhibited and infectious. “Fair point. But still, you’re nice.”

As they reached a red light, Y/N suddenly leaned over, her face closer to his than it had been all night. Lando froze, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice caught between amusement and panic.

“Your hair,” she said, her voice soft with fascination. She reached out to touch the curls at the nape of his neck, her fingers light as a feather. “It’s so soft.”

Lando’s breath caught, his heart racing as her fingers brushed against his skin. “Y/N,” he said, his voice strained.

“What?” she asked, her tone innocent, though there was a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“You’re going to make me crash the car,” he said, his voice half-joking but entirely serious.

She pulled back with a giggle, leaning against the window instead. “Sorry. Your hair’s just really nice.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, shaking his head with a small smile. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

When they finally pulled up in front of her apartment building, Lando parked the car and turned to her. She was staring out the window, her expression suddenly contemplative.

“Hey,” he said softly, drawing her attention back to him. “We’re here.”

“Oh,” she said, blinking as if coming out of a trance. Then she smiled, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride, knight in shining armor.”

“Anytime, princess,” he replied, his tone light but his heart heavy with the thought of leaving her.

He got out of the car and walked around to her side, opening the door for her. She stepped out, her legs a little unsteady, and he reached out instinctively to steady her.

“You really don’t have to do all this, you know,” she said, her voice quieter than it had been all night.

“Yes, I do,” he replied simply.

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for something she couldn’t quite name. After a moment, she nodded, letting him guide her to the building’s entrance.

At the door, she fumbled with her keys at the door, her fingers clumsy and uncoordinated. Lando watched with a mix of amusement and concern, eventually taking the keys from her gently.

“Here, let me,” he said, unlocking the door with ease.

“Show-off,” she muttered, though there was no malice in her tone.

He chuckled, holding the door open for her. “After you.”

She stepped inside, kicking off her heels and sighing in relief. “Finally. My feet are killing me.”

“That’s what you get for wearing shoes that are more for show than comfort,” Lando teased, following her into the apartment.

“Don’t mock my fashion choices,” she shot back, her tone playful as she dropped her purse onto the couch.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his eyes sparkling with humor.

For a moment, they just stood there, the weight of the night settling over them. Y/N looked at him, her expression soft and unguarded in a way that made his chest ache.

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“For what?” he asked, his voice just as soft.

“For taking care of me. For always taking care of me.”

He smiled, his heart swelling at her words. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I want to take care of you, Y/N.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, suddenly shy. “You’re really good at it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, his hand brushing against hers as he spoke. “And I’d do it every day if you let me.”

She looked up at him then, her eyes wide and searching. For a moment, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of them, the unspoken tension hanging thick in the air.

But then she yawned, breaking the moment.

“Alright,” Lando said with a small laugh, his voice tinged with both relief and disappointment. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Lando guided Y/N through her apartment toward the bedroom, her feet dragging slightly with each step. She swayed unsteadily, and he kept a firm hand on her lower back, steering her gently.

“I’m fine, you know,” she mumbled, her words slurring slightly. “Perfectly fine. Could’ve done this…all by myself.”

He glanced down at her with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Sure you could, but you didn’t have to. That’s what I’m here for.”

She made a soft sound of protest but didn’t pull away, leaning into him as they reached her bedroom door.

The room was cozy, with soft, warm lighting and a bed adorned with mismatched pillows and a plush duvet. Lando couldn’t help but notice little details that felt so uniquely her: a stack of books on the nightstand, an open notebook with scrawled handwriting, and a candle flickering faintly on the dresser.

She plopped down on the edge of the bed with a dramatic sigh, her head tilted up to look at him. A lazy, lopsided smile spread across her face.

“You’re nice,” she said suddenly, her voice soft and full of sincerity.

He froze mid-step, her words catching him off guard. “What?”

“You’re nice,” she repeated, her tone quieter this time but no less heartfelt. “You take care of me. You don’t have to, but you do.”

His chest tightened at the way she looked at him, her gaze unguarded and vulnerable in a way he rarely saw. “Of course I do,” he said, crouching in front of her so their eyes were level. “Because I care about you, Y/N.”

Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, she looked like she was going to say something. Her hand lifted faintly, as if to reach for him, but then she blinked, her expression growing hazy. A wide yawn escaped her, breaking the tension in the air.

Lando let out a quiet laugh, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “Alright, bedtime,” he said softly.

He gently nudged her backward until she was lying on the bed, her head sinking into the pillows. She grumbled under her breath but didn’t resist as he pulled the blanket over her, tucking it snugly around her shoulders.

“There,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “All set.”

As he straightened up, preparing to leave, her voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Stay.”

He turned back, surprised by the quiet plea. “What?”

“Stay with me,” she murmured, her voice drowsy but insistent. Her eyes, though half-closed, held a glimmer of vulnerability that he couldn’t ignore.

“Y/N, I don’t think—”

“Please,” she whispered, the word barely audible but enough to make his heart ache.

For a moment, he hesitated. Every rational part of him told him he should leave, that staying might blur lines he’d been carefully respecting. But then he looked at her, her face soft and unguarded, and he couldn’t bring himself to deny her.

He sighed, giving in. “Alright,” he said quietly, kicking off his shoes and shrugging out of his jacket.

As he climbed into the bed beside her, the mattress dipped under his weight. She immediately shifted closer, curling into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her head rested on his chest, her arm draping across his torso as if she’d done it a hundred times before.

Lando lay stiffly for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He was hyper-aware of every place they touched, the warmth of her body against his sending sparks through him. Slowly, cautiously, he wrapped an arm around her, holding her close.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of her steady breathing.

“Goodnight, Lando,” she mumbled, already half-asleep.

As the minutes passed, her breathing grew deeper and more even, signaling that she’d fallen asleep. Lando remained awake, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite contain.

He couldn’t help but marvel at the quiet intimacy of the moment. Holding her like this felt both thrilling and terrifying, as if he were standing on the edge of something he couldn’t quite define.

Her small movements as she slept—shifting closer, her fingers curling slightly against his chest—made his heart ache with a tenderness he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it was more to himself than her. “You have no idea, do you? No idea how much I care about you.”

She stirred slightly, her face burrowing into the fabric of his shirt. He froze, thinking he might have woken her, but she merely sighed contentedly before settling again.

The soft glow of early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. Y/N stirred first, her eyes fluttering open as the remnants of sleep clung to her.

She blinked a few times, her mind sluggish as she took in her surroundings. It wasn’t until she felt the steady rise and fall of Lando’s chest beneath her cheek that realization hit her like a jolt.

Her eyes widened, and she froze, her heart hammering in her chest. Memories of the night before came rushing back in fragments—the party, the wine, Lando tucking her into bed. And then…oh god.

She slowly tilted her head back, her gaze landing on Lando’s face. His eyes were still closed, his features relaxed in peaceful slumber. She took a moment to study him, her heart squeezing at how soft he looked in the morning light.

But then he stirred, his brows furrowing slightly as he woke. His eyes opened slowly, meeting hers almost instantly.

“Morning,” he said, his voice husky with sleep and a teasing smile already forming on his lips.

She scrambled back, her cheeks burning as she realized just how close they’d been. “Lando! What—why—”

He propped himself up on one elbow, looking entirely too smug for her liking. “Good to see you too.”

She groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh my god. I can’t believe I—”

“Invited me to stay?” he finished for her, his tone light and playful. “Yeah, you did. Practically begged me, actually.”

“I did not beg!” she protested, her voice muffled by her hands.

“Oh, but you did,” he teased, his grin widening. “It was adorable.”

She peeked at him through her fingers, shooting him a playful glare. “So insufferable.”

“And yet, here I am,” he said, gesturing to the bed with a wink. “Right where you want me.”

Despite her embarrassment, a small smile tugged at her lips. She dropped her hands with a sigh, shaking her head. “Thank you for…staying,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his.

“Anytime,” he replied, his voice quieter now, the teasing replaced with something more genuine.

For a moment, the air between them was thick with unspoken words, the weight of the night’s intimacy lingering. Y/N felt her heart skip a beat as Lando’s gaze softened, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her face.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice low and steady, “you mean more to me than you realize.”

Her breath caught, her chest tightening as the sincerity in his words hit her like a wave. She opened her mouth to respond, but the vulnerability in his eyes made her hesitate.

Instead, she reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against his hand. “I think I’m starting to realize,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

505 notes · View notes

sometimesanalice · 5 days ago

Text

Save Your Midnights for Me

Summary: This year has thrown you through a loop. You lost your job, you moved to San Diego, and you reunited with your summer crush from all those years ago who still is just as handsome as ever. As the clock ticks down, you can’t help but wonder what the new year might have in store for you.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 9k

Warnings: fluff and two pining idiots in love

(Author’s note: this one is for the hopeful romantics! Happy New Year, friends!)

You’ve always loved New Year’s Eve. The excitement, the fun, the champagne, the confetti. Everyone riding the high of the hope and potential of the new year ahead.

But tonight, you were on the clock instead of watching as it inched closer and closer to midnight with every tick of the second hand.

The evening has been a whirlwind of cheerful faces as you pour pint after pint of frothy, cold beers. Your arms were definitely feeling the burn of all the margaritas and whiskey sours you’ve been serving up. You were putting all your well-earned practice from the last four months of working at the Hard Deck into good use for the steady stream of Naval patrons who had come to gather and celebrate.

But you liked the steady flow. It kept you focused; it kept you busy. With your head down and your thoughts occupied with tasks and orders and drink recipes and tabs, it spared you from having to see Bradley with the girl in the silver dress who was making it more than clear whose midnight kiss she was after.

Bradley Bradshaw had been the star in all your daydreams growing up. You just never could have anticipated that you still wouldn’t be able to kick that summer crush on him, even all these years later.

This year… hadn’t been the greatest.

The meeting you’d thought was going to be the start of a new chapter in your career with that promotion you’d been hoping and working so hard for had ended with you clearing out your desk and turning in your ID badge, but not even the decent severance package they sent you out the door with could have cushioned that blow.

You’d been laid off from your tech job just in time for your industry to be hit with hiring freezes so glacial it felt like there must have been a breakthrough in global warming, as if the ice caps weren’t melting.

You spent days then weeks then months applying and interviewing on repeat like a groundhog’s day from hell, only to encounter more closed doors than open ones. Had enough ever-so-casual networking coffee chats that you were pretty sure you’d need to switch to decaf if you still wanted to have some functioning adrenal glands by the time you were fifty.

Coming close- so, so close- so many times. Having the final decision come between you and another candidate only for your fingertips to slip off the edge at the very last moment.

Still freefalling the same way you’d been since you’d first been let go.

With your savings dwindling and spirits low, you’d decided that what you needed most was to decompress and reassess. And where better than the place where some of your favorite memories had been made.

All it had taken was one call to your Aunt Penny for the little strands of silver lining to peek out from behind the gray clouds that had filled your skies lately.

By the end of the conversation not only did you have a place to land- the furnished loft above the garage with an ocean view from the tiny kitchen- but also a just-for-now job too, getting to work with her at the bar. Something to help get you back on your feet while the dust of your imploded life settled around you as you figured out your next move.

You weren’t known for staying in any place too long as it was, so it had been easy to pack up and leave the city you’d been living in for the Southern California sun, feeling lighter than you had in ages.

Your mom’s longtime best friend was quite possibly one of your favorite people on Earth. And still is.

There was nothing you looked forward to more than those summers you got to spend in San Diego, when you got to trade your textbooks for days out on the boat. Your family would rent at home near the Benjamin beach house and for almost two months it was carefree days of endless blue water and sand between your toes.

But without a doubt, the highlight of your summer was always Bradley Bradshaw.

A few years older than you, he’d been the cute boy who was the object of all your daydreams. You couldn’t remember who you first celebrity crush was, but you definitely remembered the boy with the curly brown hair who was responsible for giving you butterflies in your stomach for the very first time.

While your brother was more than fine trying to ditch you at every turn, Bradley had always made you feel like you were right where you were supposed to be. He always made you feel included. He had been the one to teach you how to wakeboard, gave you his free dole whip when he made a hole-in-one at Tiki Town, and sat next to you the first time you ever rode the Giant Dipper Roller Coaster.

Even though Penny and Mav’s relationship had been on and off for years, Bradley had remained a steady presence in your life every July and August.

Until the one summer when he didn’t show up.

You’d sat on the stairs with your arms wrapped around your knees that first night and listened on as your mom and Penny talked, piecing together the explanation for Bradley’s absence and why your aunt was dating the uninteresting man you’d met earlier that night at dinner.

The sun, the sand, and the sights were all the same. And yet everything had changed after that.

That had been your last San Diego summer.

You moved on, you went to college, you grew up. But you had never forgotten the boy who had made you feel like sunshine.

You’d always hoped he remembered you just as fondly.

When you heard that Penny and Mav were back together, you thought there might be a chance to see him again, you were always curious about how things had turned out for you. You just never expected for him to quite literally crash back into your life.

Or for all of those sun-warmed feelings came rushing back.

It was your third day of working at the Hard Deck.

You were still getting use to the lay of the land- and announcing corner whenever you made your way out of the stockroom- when you’d come out of the back with your arms full of refill napkins packs only to collide with a wall of muscles with a less than dignified oof.

“Oh, shit!” The hand that reached out to grasp your hip was probably the only reason you hadn’t landed on your ass, even as the napkins went everywhere. “Sorry, that was my- wait, Bee?”

The nickname from your younger years was exclusively reserved for close family and friends. Shortened over time from busy bee, a name your mom still wrote in your birthday and Christmas cards, because of the way you were always pursuing new activities with the kind of intense tenacity only found in the most precocious of kids.

Although, no one who’d known you squarely post-braces had ever called you that before. And definitely not anyone so solidly built with such a masculine, raspy voice.

But you knew those rich brown eyes and sun-streaked curls.

Just like you knew that under the soft looking linen blend shirt there’d be freckles dotted along his shoulder. Just like you knew that he was left-handed but preferred to throw a baseball with his right. Just like you knew he rode the Beach Blaster four times in a row that one time, not because he liked it, but because he was trying to get over his fear of heights.

“Bradley?” The right side of his mouth pulled up in a smile, seemingly pleased you recognized him. “Bradley Bradshaw?” you repeat, because even though he was standing less than three feet away from you, your brain was having a hard time processing the boy you’d known was now the man in front of you.

You hadn’t seen him since you were fifteen.

Although, you did try to look him up once in college when you and your roommates were tipsy off cheap sparkling wine and talking about first crushes. Giggling over poor choices and high-fiving over the ones who still Had It. Only when it was your turn, you’d found out pretty quick that he wasn’t on any socials- at least none that the four of you could sleuth out drunk on sheer determination and peach Andre. They’d let you have the rest of the bottle as a consolation prize when you’d all come up emptyhanded.

Bradley Bradshaw had remained a mystery to you, until that moment.

Gone was any trace of baby fat from his familiar face, replaced with a defined jaw and crinkles around the corners of his eyes. There were scars on his cheek and neck that hadn’t been there before, but the smile underneath that mustache was the same one from those summers all those years ago.

“It’s been a long time, huh?” Bradley said.

The only difference was the cute boy you’d known growing up was now quite possibly the most handsome man you’d ever seen.

“How’d you get even hotter?” you blurted. It only took a split second for your brain to catch up with your mouth, wincing at the words that hung in the air unable to take them back.

Bradley’s eyes widened in surprise just for a moment before he laughed. Loud and unguarded and amused.

Mortified and flustered you drop down to your knees to pick up the scattered brown craft paper wrapped bundles of napkins that littered the narrow hallway. His presence- and bulk- filling up the already small space.

He kneeled down next to you, helping to collect the packs. “I don’t know about ‘hotter’, but probably taller since that last time I saw you.” You couldn’t help but notice how big his hands were as he reached for the furthest one that was sent flying as victim of your two-person Big Bang.

And broader, you think.

“We’ve been doing a lot of push-ups lately,” Bradley chuckled, “I keep telling the squad to stop underestimating the old man, but they never learn. They’re still just as competitive as ever.”

“Jesus,” you muttered under your breath, needing a rock to crawl under. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that ruffled around a man before. So caught off guard that all semblance of casually cool had left the building. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, and attempted to diffuse the situation with some self-deprecating humor, “Well, I wish second puberty had been as kind to me as it was for you.”

“From what I can see, it looks like it was pretty damn kind to you too.”

You’d pressed your lips together and fought back grin as you shook your head, reaching for another bundle. The last thing you’d needed was for him to be charming too.

You felt his gaze on the side of your face, like he was trying to catch your eye, and when you couldn’t avoid it any further without making it weird you met those warmer than cinnamon brown eyes.

“It’s good to see you again.” There was an earnest smile still in place on his face as he passed you the napkins he’d collected from his side of the hall.

He looked at you- probably the same way you’d been looking at him only a couple moments ago- trying to reconcile the carefree girl with the stunned woman in front of him, seeing what changes could be picked out on a face that hadn’t been seen in over a decade. You didn’t dare call it interest that was flickering in his eyes, but you could safely say there was at least some curiosity reflected in them.

You knew he wasn’t flirting, just trying to make you feel better less awkward about your earlier slip. Playing along the same way he did when he’d sabotage your brother at the water gun war game at Belmont Park so that you could stand a chance at winning a stuffed animal prize.

“It’s good to see you again, too,” you replied, meaning it as you gave him a smile of your own for the first time and watching as his own grew a little wider.

“Bee? Did you find them? The napkins should be-” Penny came rounding the corner, taking in the scene in front of her and who you’d been delayed by. Your whole body jolted like she’d caught you playing 7 Minutes in Heaven instead of crouching on the floor. “Oh, I see you’ve found Rooster. And the napkins.”

“It was my bad, Penny, I plowed right into her,” Bradley- Rooster?- said standing back up, wrapping a hand under your elbow to help guide you up to your feet.

“Sorry, I’ll be right there,” you told her, gesturing with your napkin filled arms. He was quick to reach out and catch one of the slipping packs from the top of the pile before it could fall to the ground again, helping you to get them better situated and less like a Jenga stack waiting to collapse.

“There’s no rush. I just wanted to make sure you were finding everything alright.” Her eyes drifted back and forth between the two of you, before landing on him and flicking down to the hand still on your elbow. “Hey, since you’re here, would you mind grabbing a fresh keg of the Stone Brewing lager for me?”

He nodded, letting go of you and hooking his thumbs into his front pockets. “Sure thing, can do.”

“Thank you, Bradley. And Bee,” she continued, turning back to you, “You can just bring those up when you’re ready.” You didn’t know what to make of the smile she gave you before she’d set off back to the bar.

The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments, although it hadn’t been the uncomfortable kind.

Bradley cleared his throat, his mouth quirking to one side. “I feel like there’s some kind of ‘the birds and the bees’ joke here. One I’m not qualified to make since you were always the funnier one of the two of us.”

That time it was your turn to laugh. You were more than a little pleased when his deeper one mixed with yours.

You warred with yourself- still holding those damn napkins- whether or not to wrap things up and go take them to Penny, but you wanted to know more.

“Rooster?” you’d asked, tilting your head at him in question.

“Believe it or not, I finally got past that fear of heights,” he explained, “I’m a pilot now.” You felt your smile grow on its own, it was something he’d always talked about. You were happy to learn he’d made it happen for himself. “Rooster is my callsign.”

It was a name you’d heard a few times since moving into the loft above the garage. The way Penny said it always made it seem like you should know who she was talking about, you just hadn’t taken a moment to ask, figuring that you’d meet this mysterious ‘Rooster’ eventually. You just never would have guessed you already knew him.

You told him as much, adding on, “Maybe she thought we’d kept in touch.”

“I would have liked that.” You ignored the fluttering low in your stomach. There was something in his voice that made your mouth go a little dry. “What’re you doing later? Are you here for long? I’d like to catch up, if you have time for an old friend.”

Friend.

The word shook you out of whatever Bradley Bradshaw induced haze you’d found yourself in.

You didn’t know how long you were going to be here, but one thing was for sure, all the two of you were ever going to be was platonic. It was a necessary reminder before any coconut sunscreen scented daydreams tempted you off course.

A smile stayed plastered to your face, one that felt more forced than it had been a few heartbeats ago, “I’m behind the bar until midnight, but I’ll be your friendly neighborhood bartender for the foreseeable future.”

Bradley grinned. “Guess, I’ll be seeing you around then, Bee.”

“I guess you will, Rooster.”

And you did.

You went from not seeing Bradley Bradshaw for over a decade to seeing him multiple times a week.

He kept you company at the bartop, swiveling on his stool, on slow nights as you found little projects to keep yourself occupied, like polishing and reorganizing the Hard Deck’s glassware collection. Filling each other in on the important things and people that had helped shaped the two of you into the adults that you’d grown into.

Rooster introduced you to his friends and teammates, making you feel not only included but liked you belonged in that same way he had when you were kids. Seamlessly bringing up common interests you shared with the people closest to him, giving you something to connect with them on your own outside of him. Always taking the initiative to extend invites your way to hang out at the beach or to check out the best spot for breakfast or to experience a Padres game complete with an unofficial culinary food tour of Petco Park.

He helped you paint the kitchenette in the loft a soft blue- with your aunt’s permission, of course. Meticulously taping off the countertop edges and cabinets, yet somehow ending up wearing more paint on an old, tightfitting UVA shirt that had seen better days than he got on the wall.

And on Sunday nights he was seated across from you at the oak dining table with Amelia, Penny, and Pete for the weekly dinner the five of you all had together. They’d been back together for over a year now, and it seemed like it was for good this time based on the way they looked at each other. Your aunt was noticeably happier than she’d been even just a few years ago, that spark back that had been dimmed from an unhappy marriage.

You were happy for her and Mav.

He’d even taken you for a spin on his motorcycle. It was a one and done event, reaffirming what you already knew, that you were more of a four-wheel girl than a two-wheel one.

When you weren’t at the bar or working on the few remote side gigs you’d taken on to keep your skills feeling fresh, you were helping Amelia learn to code. It wasn’t your forte, but you were having fun spending time with her and teaching her what you did know. And in return, she’d help you to revamp your wardrobe a bit. You thought California cool looked good on you.

There had been a brief moment when you’d been packing up your old apartment when you’d worried about being lonely in San Diego not knowing anyone outside of your family, but you were the furthest thing from lonely and you had Bradley to thank for that.

It was nice to have friend.

However, you were finding that crush on him harder to get over than you anticipated.

You still get annoyed at yourself when he smiles at you a certain way making your cheeks heat up and your stomach flip. Although, you try not to be too hard on yourself because he’s genuinely kind and good looking and you’re only human. God knows you’ve seen enough people notice him too from your perch behind the bar.

But there were worse problems to have.

You had spent that morning getting the Hard Deck decorated for the big New Year’s Eve party.

As the first to arrive, you’d gotten the coffee going on the ancient coffee maker that you were trying your hardest to get Penny to replace when a big hand skimmed the side of your waist, reaching past you to steal the cup you’d just poured for yourself.

You turned to see a sleepy looking Bradley standing behind you, his curled looked more like they were fresh off his pillow than the way you usually saw them styled.

“It’s too early for this.” You watched as he took a big swig from the cup, wincing as he registered just how hot Jimmy’s machine had brewed the coffee, just a couple degrees below scalding.

You gave him an unimpressed look, “Says the man who routinely wakes up at 5am for a sunrise run.”

“It’s the weekend, Bee,” Bradley said like it explained everything.

“It’s a Wednesday.”

“Schematics.” He took another deep sip of your coffee, but not before you caught the mischievous way his mouth was curved upwards. “Everyone knows the days between Christmas and New Years Day are the Wild West of the calendar year, every day is a weekend day from the 26th to the 1st.”

You actually hadn’t seen Rooster since Christmas.

You’d decided to spend the holiday in San Diego since your parents had decided this was the year they were finally going to check out the Christmas markets in Europe like they’ve always wanted too. And you didn’t want to crash your brother’s first Christmas as a dad, instead you’d sent the most obnoxious baby toy you could find online in addition to a silky soft stuffed rabbit with your niece’s name embroidered on the ear.

When you opened the front door with the pretty stained glass sailing boat picture window, you’d been surprised to see Bradley standing there with a white faux fur trimmed Santa hat and holding a bag with unexpectedly well wrapped presents in one hand and a creamy, cranberry-colored pie in the other.

Your hand stayed glued to the doorknob as his eyes trailed over you. The house had been warm but a shiver still worked its way through your body as he took in your festive pajamas.

Before he could say anything Amelia ever-so-helpfully pointed out the mistletoe you’d conveniently forgotten about that had been hung above the wood door. Frankly, she sounded a bit too enthusiastic about it.

He mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like little punk, although his tone was so affectionate that you thought you must have misheard him. But you didn’t get to think on it for too long because then he was leaning in, in, in.

Your heart shot straight into your throat at the first prickle of his mustache and then the slightly dry lips as they brushed against your cheek for the briefest of moments.

And then he pulled away all too soon.

Friend. Friend. Friend. You tried to remind yourself, but your heart was too aflutter to get the message.

He looked you straight in the eyes as he stepped back, “Can you do me a favor, Bee?”

You must have made a sound that was close enough to an mhm, because then he passed you the bag of presents and the pie waiting only long enough to make sure you had a good hold on them both before darting around you to chase after Amelia.

Amelia squealed when Bradley caught her, ducking his head down to drop a playfully chaotic kiss on her cheek.

He ended up giving Penny and Mav the same treatment too. Although Pete shoved him away good-naturedly when he tried to plant a particularly sloppy one on him.

All while your feet stayed glued to the same spot they were when he kissed you.

But that was six days ago. Probably the longest stint without seeing him since you collided with him that afternoon a few months ago.

The smell of strong coffee and cinnamon had coaxed you back into the moment, and you’d shook your head a bit like that would help you clear your mind with Bradley standing so close to you again.

“I don’t think it’ll take us too long,” you declared, trying to get focused back on the task at hand- that being the unofficial head of the NYE decorating committee, “I even made us a schedule.”

“Of course you did. Is it color-coded?” he asked over the rim of the chipped mug.

“And if it is?” you countered, unashamed of your planning. And then there was that damn smile of his.

“Then I’m really going to need this coffee,” he winked, and poured you a cup of your own.

You’d been right though. With everyone pitching in things came together rather quickly.

The morning moving steadily as the Christmas decorations were replaced with classic the gold and white and black color scheme you’d went with for the party. The silver tinsel tree covered in beach themed shaped ornaments with a few planes hung about by the front door might have stood out at odds with everything else, but metallic was a neutral in your book so you’d opted to keep the cheerful tree up just a little bit longer and tucked a few party blowers into the branches to tie it in with the rest of the space.

It was easy for you to get in the zone, delegating and divvying up the tasks on your color-coded schedule, putting all your project tracking skills to use. There were dozens of strands of string lights that had to gone up on the ceiling and along the walls. All of the windows with the snowflake cut outs you and Amelia had made for Christmas were framed in a metallic fringe. There was a station with hats and headbands and glasses in case anyone was feeling particularly festive. The tables and booths had been stocked with noise makers and confetti poppers in addition to the mirrorball centerpieces and confetti scatter.

Everything sparkled and shined, the light bouncing off everything gave the bar a wonderfully hazy glow, it was the perfect ambiance for the most hopeful night of the year.

At one point, you’d been working on hanging up some dangling golden stars from one of the ceramic mug rounders only to find Bradley standing there at the base of the ladder behind you with a well-defined arm stretched out just in case you lost balance.

And then just like that, your focus went out the window. Because then he was everywhere. He made it impossible for you to not notice him, especially since so many of your jobs and his overlapped, something you’d come to regret more and more as the hours went by.

You’d been working on tying off balloons and lamenting the fact you didn’t order another pump with the tying tool, when you’d decided to take a break to massage your numb fingertips. You looked up to check the progress made with fresh eyes, to see Rooster on a ladder helping Mav to get the netting set up for the balloon drop.

The athletic shorts he’d been wearing were hanging low on his hips. And as he reached up to hand Pete another nail it caused his t-shirt to ride up giving you a glimpse of toned stomach and tantalizing v-lines. It was just as tempting as it was taunting.

You’d switched to ice water after that.

The image was seared into your mind for the rest of the afternoon. Not even the freezing cold shower you’d hopped into the second you made it back to your loft to freshen up before the party had helped. Neither had the rushed orgasm to take the edge off, because it wasn’t your own fingers that you wanted.

He’d found you before the party well and truly started.

You’d been double checking all the prep, making sure you had the bar stocked up as was possible without losing any valuable space, when you felt a hand on your back. Bradley was dressed up in a navy suit that fit him in all the right places, looking more handsome than you knew possible. All broad shoulders and thick thighs. The top button of his pristinely pressed white shirt undone, giving you a peek at the divot base of his throat.

You weren’t sure what made you more flustered, that hint of his neck or the skin under his bellybutton that you’d seen only a couple hours ago.

A soft smile coasted over his face as he took in your New Years’ Eve finest. “You look-”

“I know, rhinestones for New Years’ Eve, how groundbreaking,” you joked, cutting him off and giving your best Miranda Priestly impression.

You were wearing a black velvet jumpsuit for the party. You loved the way it fit the curves of your body and the way the halter top made your collarbones and shoulders look. There was just a hint of skin with the keyhole near the bust. But it was also practical- right down to your plain black no-show panties you had on- so you could move easily without worrying about giving anyone an eyeful. It wasn’t the flashiest of outfits, there’d be more than enough sequins later on, but the way Bradley was looking at you made it feel like your off the rack might as well be haute couture.

“I was going to say, you look good. Really good.” Bradley takes his time letting his eyes drag down your body, his cheek kicking up when he lands on your shoes. “I especially like the birks, they tie the whole look together.”

The clogs you were wearing were decidedly unsexy, not many people could pull of the potato shoe, but you weren’t there as a party guest, you still had work to do and your night was just getting started. “I don’t think stilettos and stouts would mix together very well,” you said by way of explanation.

Bradley chuckled and reached out taking an end of the little rhinestone bow that dangled from right beneath your neck where the straps met and twirled it between his fingers for a moment. “I think this might be my favorite part though,” he rasps lowly. There was an intensity in his eyes directed at you that you hadn’t seen before.

For a moment it looked like he was about to say more, and then a glass shattered.

The sound of it caused you to crash back into your body.

“And so it begins,” you announced, taking a half step backwards and out of his touch, that rhinestone cord falling back against your sternum with a gentle thud that you felt reverberate in your chest.

You heard him say your name, but you were already setting off for a broom.

So you’d kept your head down and your hands busy.

It felt like for every drink you made, two more were ordered. Barely noticing as the final minutes of this year flew by while you garnished drinks with bright cherries and slices of lemon with a flourish before handing them off.

Offering smiles and well wishes to those here to celebrate. True to your namesake as you swiped cards and counted bills and mixed and poured and served the drinks to the ever-rotating people in front of you.

You made eye contact with Rooster a couple times throughout the night, the same way you usually did when you were behind the bar and he was there. Eyes drawn to him like a magnet against your will.

He hadn’t come up to you at all since before the party started. You’d seen him with the Daggers when you went to refill the water tank, heard the keys of the upright piano when you grabbed more ice from the back room, saw him talking with the girl in the shiny dress and her interested eyes as you put the freshly washed glasses away.

Just like he’d been the best parts of your San Diego summers, he’d become the best part of your year.

You’d spent the last four months trying to convince yourself that it was a silly crush, that you could will it away or get over it. But now just a couple moments shy of a new year barreling towards you, it was time to face the fact that Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t someone you were ever going to get over.

Although if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t sure you wanted to get over him.

You’re giving the counter a quick wipe down, taking advantage of the brief lull when the music cuts off, startling you out of your thoughts.

Twelve!

The countdown had snuck up on you. Just like everything else had this year.

Eleven!

You’d had your fill of unexpected surprises, some for the worse and some for the better. While it felt like you’d had more downs than ups, you were ending the year feeling the most content you have since you were laid off. And that was more than good enough for you.

Ten!

At the beginning of this year, you never would have guessed that you’d end it in San Diego. This year had taken from you, but it had also given you a lot. New friends, new places to explore, new memories, new hopes.

Nine!

You were still figuring things out and that was ok. Even though you still weren’t sure what was next for you, you knew everything would work out. One way or another you’d find yourself on the other side of this and able to look back with pride for making it through all the challenges that had been thrown your way.

Eight!

And while things didn’t shape out the way you anticipated them to, with goals still yet to be achieved and a vision board of ideas that you’d carry into the new year, you had so much to be grateful for.

Seven!

You liked San Diego- and not in the just-for-now way. You liked the life you were building here. You liked the beach and the sand and the sun. You liked you Sunday dinners with Penny and Amelia and Pete. You liked the people you were surrounded by. You liked the stories you’ve collected from your side of the bar. You liked the diner down the road with their perfectly shaped coffee cups. You liked your new normal while you got your feet back under you. You liked the potential you felt was here.

Six!

And then there was Bradley.

Five!

You were avoiding looking in his direction, too worried about what you might see, not wanting to end this year with another disappointment. You’ve come to accept that he had a piece of you that you weren’t sure you were ever going to get back. But that was something for you to deal with next year.

Four!

For now, you are right where you are supposed to be.

Three!

Because what is meant for you will never pass you by. Not in life and not in love. And that was something you could count on, something you could hold onto.

Two!

You smile to yourself and close your eyes.

The crowd chants One!

You breathe out and let go.

And when the cheers of Happy New Year! ring out, you breathe in and open your heart up to all the possibilities.

Enjoying the moment for what it was- exactly as it was- as the party noise makers started going off all around you.

As New Years’ kisses were traded.

As people greeted a fresh, bright New Year with wide-open and welcoming arms.

Where anything could happen.

Where anything was possible because the year was waiting to written.

You tip your head back and open your eyes, watching as the balloons you’d spent the afternoon tying knots in started to fall, slowly at first and then more until your view was a cocoon of black and gold and white and clear blocking out the rest of the world from view.

Time seemed to slow a bit as the confetti poppers joined the mix adding to the echo of fireworks going off nearby. The glints of gold and little shiny dots of sparkles and streamers seemed to hang in the air. There was a cacophony of cheerful noises, from the poppers to the people to the familiar sound of Whitney Houston being piped over the static-y speakers.

A moment of magic for you and you alone, as you pocketed the hope and optimism you felt rippling around you.

Over the next couple of hours pass just as swiftly as before. As you got back into the groove of serving people, your brain snagged on the sound of Aud Land Syne being played on the upright piano at the other end of the bar, and the only person it could be playing it.

It wasn’t long before people steadily started to trickle out the front door.

You’d made sure to shoo Penny out to the dance floor with Pete as the lineup of people slowed down enough for her to have some New Years Eve fun.

No one had gone too crazy, but even so, you helped arranged people rides to get home safe between closing out tabs and announcing the last call for the few people who wanted to stick it out until the very end. Waving to your new friends as they all slowly but surely made their exits.

You’d lost track of Rooster along the way, it would have been nice to wish him a Happy New Year, but it was probably for the best. It was easier on your heart to not know whether he left with some of the Daggers or with the girl with the silver sequins.

You just locked the door after the last couple stragglers had left for the night. You’d sent Penny away a little over a half an hour ago- along with Mav- since there’d been only a handful of people to look after.

She’d made you promise not to stay behind after locking up, but you didn’t see the harm in tidying things up a bit more. You were collecting the empty glasses that had been scattered about and abandoned on window ledges and tables when you caught a figure out of the corner of your eye, nearly causing you to drop the bus tub you were holding on to.

“Bradley! Jesus.” You set the plastic tub down on a table with more force than necessary, the glasses rattling against each other, and press a hand to your chest where your heart is rapidly knocking about. “What are you still doing here?”

You figured he left already, so you’re more than a little surprised he’s still here. And not just because he startled you half to death.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, putting his hands up. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, I was taking out some trash and then got held up talking to Jake for a few minutes. I didn’t realize everyone else had left.”

“I just locked the front doors,” you say, waving towards the now closed front door.

Bradley takes a cautious step closer. “So, it’s just us then?” He doesn’t even have the decency to look like he’s been partying for the better part of five hours, he looks just as handsome as he did at the start of the evening, whereas you’re sure you probably look as ruffled as you felt.

“We’re the last two standing,” you confirm, putting your hands on your lower back to stretch out the tightness that had settled along your spine over the course of the night, “But just barely, on my end.”

“You’ve been busy tonight.” You hum in agreement and reach for a foam-covered glass that was left between the coaster holder and napkin dispensers. His big hand closing around it first and he pins you with a look, leaning a hip against the table, “So tell me, why are you still cleaning when you and I both know for a fact Penny hired a crew to take care of this in the morning?”

You don’t have an answer for him, at least, not one you were willing to share. That even though the ball had dropped and the confetti had fallen you weren’t ready to have the night be over yet. Knowing that the moment you locked up for good and got in your car and headed home, that the bottle of champagne you’d bought for yourself and plans with Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal wouldn’t hit quite the way you’d hope it would.

Instead, you offer him a shrug.

Bradley’s eyes search yours for a moment before he gives you a gentle smile. “C’mon, busy bee, I think you’ve more than earned yourself a glass of champagne.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, already making his way towards the bar, not that you put up much of a fight. The ‘Greatest Hits’ playlist that Penny had queued up for the night is still playing in the background, you recognize opening notes of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” as you trail after him.

You lift an eyebrow as he pulls out a stool for you, but he just mirrors you by lifting one of his own and gestures to the seat. You think you feel his thumb sweep over your hip as he helps you into the stool before stepping into the front bar. A little sigh of relief slips out of you, finally off your feet for the first time all night.

You’re tired, but it’s a happy kind of tired. You’d had a nice time all things considering. Seeing the bright faces of everyone tonight had made all the work you’d put in feel worth it, all the planning and prep and decorating made it worth it if tonight ended up being a fond memory for someone.

Bradley grins at you from over his shoulder mischievously, “You know, Penny’s never let me behind the bar before.” He says it so conspiratorially, like he’s getting away with something and you’re an eyewitness to his delinquency, as if he wasn’t a decorated golden boy of the United States Navy.

You laugh, endeared by the boyish smile on his face. “Probably because you’re never wearing the right shoes,” you tease, wiggling a clog towards him.

And he chuckles, warm and affectionate.

Rooster finds the freshly washed glasses easily- Pete had done a great job as the designated dishwasher of the evening, loading and unloading glasses as quickly as they came with speedy efficiency. You see as his hand hesitates for a moment eyeing the already open bottle of champagne on the counter warily, and you point a glossy cranberry coated fingernail to the fridge under the counter, where you knew a few uncorked ones were still stocked knowing that Penny won’t mind if you pilfer a celebratory bottle to share between yourselves.

With your help he finds the chilled bottle and shoots the cork across the room with a cheerful pop! You make a mental note to pick it up later marking the spot in your mind, which he must notice because he says, knowingly, “Don’t worry, I’ll grab it later. You’re officially off the clock.”

He pours you a glass and then one for himself with a flourish, clearly showing off as the bubbles fizz to the top of the rim without spilling over. You’ve spent all night catering to everyone else, it’s nice to have someone looking out for you now.

Rooster holds out a glass for you, “Cheers, Bee.”

You smile and clink yours against his.

The bubbles burst across your tongue, refreshing and crisp. The two of you sip on your glasses of champagne in companionable silence for a few moments, enjoying the calm after a busy day and busier night.

“Did you have a nice time tonight, Bradley?”

“It was nice enough, I guess,” he says, giving you a half smile, “I’m having a much better time now though.”

You take another little sip, attributing the fluttering in your chest to the bubbles.

“It feels weird to be sitting on this side of the bar,” you muse, changing the subject, “You know, I don’t think I made you a drink at all tonight.”

He takes the bottle and pours you a little more. “People kept hogging my favorite bartender.”

You grin into your glass.

“I would have made time for you,” you say.

He leans down and fold his arms in front of him, so that your faces are level. “You would have?”

The answer comes easily. “Of course.”

Bradley gives you a look you don’t know how to interpret, like reading your face isn’t enough that he wants to know what’s going on inside of your head. You always kind of thought your cards had been on the table the whole time, but maybe you’d been keeping them closer to your chest than you’d realized.

“It was nice of you to make sure Penny and Mav got out on the dancefloor earlier.”

“You saw that?” It hadn’t been an easy feat, but it had been worth it to see them looking at each other in a way you hoped you’d find someday.

His gaze is steady when he replies, “I did.”

Flustered now, you feel your cheeks heat up. “Amelia and I had a bet about if he was going to propose tonight, and I thought I’d do my part to try and help her win twenty dollars. I didn’t think he would, at least not here in front of a crowd of people, but I hope he’ll do it soon.”

He nods, taking a sip of his own, the tips of his ears getting red.

You lean forward on your elbows, “Tell me what you know, Bradshaw.”

“I’m a vault,” he says, shaking his head.

“Does he have a ring?” you ask, elatedly.

Bradley takes another deep sip of champagne, giving you nothing, at least not with his words. But you don’t need him to confirm, not with the way his lips are turned up, clearly happy for his uncle and your aunt.

Good, you smile to yourself, that’s good.

“I also happened to notice that you didn’t get to dance at all tonight.”

“No, I didn’t.” You could have. Penny had tried to get you to take a few minutes to enjoy yourself, but you kept finding excuses to stay planted where you were. “There’s always next year,” you add, circling your finger around the base of your champagne glass.

Bradley steps out from behind the bar and takes the half full glass from your hand, setting it on top of a coaster in a move that you find entirely too appealing. And holds out a hand out for you, “We should fix that.”

His large fingers wrap around your hand- strong and sure- as he guides you towards the old jukebox, the two of you walking over the confetti covered floor and though the sea of balloons that bobbed in your wake.

He lets go when the two of you have reached the middle of the makeshift dancefloor that had been cleared of the tables that were normally there for the night. Your feet stay put as he makes his way to the sticker covered jukebox and starts flipping through the options.

“I keep trying to get Penny to get a new one that takes a card,” you say nervously, filling the quiet, the air now charged with something new between the two of you. “Or one with an app, where people could pay and pick things from their phone.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” he teases playfully, still scanning through the CDs, clearly on a mission to find a particular song.

“She keeps a couple spare quarters on the ledge behind it- but uhm- I’m not sure if they’re still there or not, or if people have already used them. I could grab some from the register-”

You take a half step back, but Rooster stops you.

“Don’t go flying away, Bee.” He pulls out his wallet from the inside of his suit jacket and fishes out a couple coins, holding them out on his flattened palm for you to see. “You see, I’ve been saving these ones for just the right girl.”

You didn’t know your heart could beat so fast.

Bradley slips them into the machine with a metallic plink, once and then twice. The corner of his mouth pulls up as his eyes drift over you. “Yeah, you’re definitely an N24 kind of girl.”

He punches in the code and walks purposefully back to you.

The gentle sound of an acoustic guitar crackles to life over the old speaker system of the Hard Deck, the song much slower than you were anticipating. The opening notes are familiar ones to you, but different than what you were used to hearing. This rendition was delicate and atmospheric. Intimate. Almost like the music was wearing its heart on its sleeve.

Bradley wraps an arm around you and pulls you in. His eyes are heavy on yours, you feel the weight of them everywhere. He coaxes your hand onto his broad shoulder and takes the other one in his, drawing it to his chest.

He holds you close as he leads you in a dance.

No one has ever looked at you the way he is looking at you.

“Ask me about my night again,” he murmurs, invitingly.

You swallow. “Did you have a nice time earlier tonight?”

“No.” Your breath stutters in your chest and you miss a step, but he easily guides you through it. “No,” he repeats, “I didn’t because I couldn’t spend it with the only person I want to.”

Your voice has escaped you, not that you’d trust it not to completely give you away.

“This is the part where you ask me how it’s going now.” He runs his thumb over the back of your hand, encouragingly.

“This doesn’t feel very friendly,” you whisper.

Bradley presses you even closer to him. Every part of you is touching him, and you’re warm everywhere. “That’s good,” he rasps, “Because I’m not really going for just ‘friendly’ here, honey.”

You see everything there plain as day, written all over his face.

All you can say is his name.

“Bradley.”

And he says yours in return, so gently like it’s precious to him.

“I kept hoping you’d look my way during the countdown. But then you looked so thoughtful and all I wanted was to see that moment through your eyes. I couldn’t look away, you’re so beautiful.”

Feeling brave, you slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, combing your fingers through the short hair at the base of his head. He hums, pleased and content.

“You didn’t get a New Years Eve kiss.” It’s a statement. Like he knows because he was paying attention.

Your stomach swoops, and it’s like you’re fifteen and riding the Giant Dipper again.

“Neither did you, it seems.” His eyes drop down to your mouth.

“No, I didn’t,” he confirms, raising a hand up and skimming his thumb along your lower lip. “But now I’ve got a whole year to practice.

Bradley brings both hands to cup your face. His eyes traveling from your eyes to your nose to your mouth, a soft smile on his face as he leans in to kiss you.

When his lips meet yours it’s like time stops. You can’t hear the music over the rushing in your ears or the beating of your heart. In that moment, all there is only Bradley.

There’s no hesitation in the way his mouth moves against yours. Or in the way his teeth grazes your lower lip, right before he follows it with his tongue. It’s as if he has played this moment in his head so many times before.

Like there was never a question in his mind about if it was ever going to happen, but when.

There’s a surety in his touch, in the way he cradles your face in his big hands, in the way he angles your head just right.

The way Bradley kisses you makes you feel like this is the moment he’s been waiting for the whole night.

That it’s the moment he’s been waiting the last four months for.

His kiss is sweet like cinnamon and you know you’ll never be the same now that you’ve had a taste of it.

Your first one of the year. And it belongs to Bradley Bradshaw. Just as you always hoped it would be.

He pulls away just enough to skim his lips teasingly against yours. “Happy New Year, Bee.”

“Happy New Year, Bradley.”

You grin and he dips back down to kiss you again.

Time ticks on, but this time there isn’t a countdown. Only his mouth against yours and your arms wrapped around his neck.

After a while, he pulls away again, looking entirely and thoroughly kissed. It’s a good look for him.

He smiles at you. “My mom used to believe in ‘beginning as you mean to go on’. Taking time on the first of a new year and doing something that you want to make a part of your year going forward,” he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “So if you’re up for it, honey, I’d like to take you out to breakfast at that 24-hour diner. Because I mean to go on with you this year and the next one after that if I’m lucky.”

“I’d like that,” you say, taking a snapshot of this moment and the way those warm, brown eyes are gazing at you. “Just as long as we leave some time for mine. I have an idea of how I’d like to ‘begin as I mean to go on’.”

“Yeah? What did you have in mind?”

You don’t answer, instead you just lean in close until you feel his smile pressed against your.

The two of you eventually lock up for the night, for good this time. But only after Bradley finally stops kissing you long enough to grab that cork he’d shot across the bar earlier, pretending not to see the way he tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket.

He takes your hand in his warm one, his fingers slipping easily between yours like he’s done it hundreds of times before.

The sunrise is still a couple of hours away, but you can see the promise of dawn and all the possibilities it’ll bring.

Bradley turns his head back to look at you and grins, it’s wide enough that the corners of his eyes crinkle.

A new day, a new year.

And you can’t help but think that this really will be the best one yet.

Happy 2025, tgm friends! I hope this is your year! Thank you for reading!

And a big thank you to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse) for all the support and encouragement and general woogirling over Bradley Bradshaw!

If you want to know what song Bradley played for Bee 🥰

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #Bradley Bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #Bradley Bradshaw x female reader #Bradley Bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster Bradshaw x you #Bradley rooster Bradshaw x reader #Bradley rooster Bradshaw x female reader #Bradley rooster Bradshaw imagine #Bradley rooster Bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction

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mountttmase · 8 days ago

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Note - happy New Year’s Eve babies 🩷 my lasts fic of 2024 can you believe it? This was meant to be a blurb I’ve ended up with over 13k word and if that’s doesn’t sum up my 2024 then I don’t know what will. Love you guys sm and feedback would be appreciated as always 😘🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 13.3k

Warnings - fluffy

Movie nights were becoming somewhat of a monthly tradition at your best friend Libby’s house, and whilst the group had grown in size a little bit lately, it was still a highlight of your week to go and spend time with your people.

Most of the people here you went to school with, however funnily enough you didn't really become that close with them until you’d left school. It was your best friend Libby who was more friendly with them as they shared a lot of classes together but after a few nights out and mini holidays you liked to think of them as your friends too. The group only becoming closer when Libby finally got together with Aaron, a boy who’d been in her history class, who she’d always had a crush on and now you all hung out as often as you could.

The group grew even more when a few of the boys got girlfriends of their own as well as the girls inviting along their boyfriends until there was around 15 or so of you.

Unfortunately for you, you were one of the permanently single members of the gang. You didn’t mind it so much as you were quite happy waiting for Mr Right to come along at the perfect time but when Libby and Aaron were all over each other at all hours of the day it was hard not to feel a little left out.

They say opposites attract and Libby was everything you weren’t. She was fun, energetic and loved having everyone round her’s to entertain where as you just liked to show up and eat the snacks. Her and Aaron were as solid and a rock yet you could barely look at a boy and as new members were added every so often you never had anyone to bring with you.

‘You know what would be fun? Secret Santa’ Libby announced to the room as everyone was taking their seats. Her eyes sparkling with pure joy as she clapped her hands together excitedly but you were just hoping everyone else in the room wasn’t as into it as she was.

Whilst you didn’t hate the idea you also knew you didn’t know everyone here that well and the idea of having to buy for some of the boys in the group filled you with dread. There were some other single girls mixed in and a few single guys but you always made sure you were with Libby when you hung out and as much as you could make nervous small talk sometimes, the thought of picking a gift for some of these people filled you with dread.

‘We won’t be able to see each other at Christmas though, is there any point?’ You asked quietly, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible like always but you could see a few of the others who were in earshot around you nod in agreement.

‘We can just extend the deadline then, we’ll all be at Masons for new years right? We can just do it then it won’t make any difference’ she shrugged and you could see Aaron nodding along in agreement.

‘I’m in’ he told her, looking round to ask the rest of the guys who all seemed to be now nodding along and you knew there was no way you could back out of it now.

‘Okay but can we set a price limit? We don’t need everyone going big and I end up getting someone a stapler’ you mumbled, hearing a few chuckles from across the room and when you looked up some of the boys that had been listening in were smiling at you.

‘Why would you get someone a stapler?’ Libby asked, snapping your gaze away from them but you just shrugged. Your cheeks burning as everyone’s attention was on you and you didn’t know how to act now.

‘They come in handy sometimes’ you whispered, playing with your fingers in your lap in hopes someone would take over and say something else and thankfully Libby read your mind and went into presentation mode.

‘Okay so how about £20? It’s only got to be something small and silly’ she asked the group and thankfully everyone was nodding. ‘Amazing! I’ll write everyone’s name down and we can pick them out of a hat’

The only hat she could find was the one currently on Aaron’s head and as he handed it over to her you sat and looked around the group to figure out who’s name you’d want and not want to pick out but before you knew it she’d passed the hat to you and you’d picked out the first name.

You had to wait before you could read it though, her telling everyone to wait until everyone had a name so you could open them together but the tiny piece of paper was hot in your hand. You knew it was just a silly secret Santa but you didn’t want to make an idiot out of yourself in front of all these people or piss someone off by getting them something they hated.

‘Okay open!’ Libby suddenly called, everyone scrambling to open their notes and you took a big gulp before undoing yours.

Shit.

Mason was at the bottom of your list of people you wanted to pick, that was for sure. What do you buy the man that has everything?

Mason was probably the person you knew the least. He was fairly new to the group as he’d only moved up here a short while ago. The boys had spoken about him frequently as they told you they used to play against him when they were in the united academy but unfortunately none of them made it as far as he had. You’d always figured they were pulling your leg but after he’d moved up and Aaron sent a picture of all the boys in a group call playing fifa you had to concede that they were telling the truth.

You didn’t meet him until six months later, him joining everyone for a movie night at Libby's house and you still weren’t exactly sure why someone like him wanted to hang around with a bunch of nobodies like you lot but he seemed friendly enough and all the boys loved having him around. It also helped that he was easy on the eye but you kept to yourself just like always but you always made sure to say hello to each other if nothing else. From what you could see from his interactions with the boys, he was funny and easy going and had gotten you into some pretty cool parties in the last few months but you’d never had much of a proper conversation with him.

That was about to change soon though, excusing yourself into the kitchen so you could grab a drink but since so many people were here tonight Libby’s fridge had been basically cleared apart from a can or two right towards the back. Unfortunately for you they were just out of your reach and you huffed in annoyance as you cursed her for getting such a ridiculously tall fridge.

‘Would you like me to get that for you?’ You suddenly heard from behind you. Turning to the boy that had been plaguing your thoughts for the last 20 minutes for all the wrong reasons but right now you were happy to see him.

‘Please’ you smiled. Letting Mason grab the last two remaining cans before he passed you one over and you sent him an appreciative smile. ‘Thank you. Maybe you can spread the word to whoever’s got me for secret Santa that I could do with a stepladder’ you joked. Rolling your eyes a bit so you could make it obvious you were being silly but he just smiled back at you kindly.

‘Well at least you’ve got ideas, I dread to think what the person that got me is thinking’ he laughed. ‘I was gonna back out, you know cause I don’t know everyone super well, but Libby was looking at me like she’d rip my head off’

‘Oh trust me, I’ve been on the receiving end of that look many times and I know it's not fun’ you sympathised. ‘Are you happy with who you picked?’

‘Not sure happy is the right word, more confused I’d say but I think I’d feel the same with whoever I got. What about you?’

‘Pretty much the same’ you laughed. It suddenly hitting you how easy you were finding it to talk to him since you’d barely spoken before. You wanted to talk to him more but the sound of everyone laughing in the living room snapped you both out of your little bubble and he was nodding back towards there.

‘Shall we go back? If I miss too much I’ll never be able to get back into it what with my short attention span’ he chuckled and you nodded thinking the same. Following him back into the living room so you could take your place back next to Libby as he took his seat a few spaces down in between two of the other boys.

‘Something you want to tell me?’ Libby whispered. Leaning her head down so she could speak quietly in your ear but you were confused as to what she was going on about.

‘What?’

‘You and Mason? You were both gone ages’ she winked but you just frowned back at her.

‘Don’t do that’ you huffed, watching her smile smugly at you but it soon dropped when she realised you weren’t happy with her teasing. Something she tended to do often and even though she probably didn't mean any harm it still annoyed you. Any boy you so much as looked at she had something to say to you and that teasing glint in her eye was driving you insane.

‘Do what?’

‘Try and make something out of nothing. He just helped me reach a drink that’s all’ you huffed. Crossing your arms as you sunk back into the seat and you knew that Libby realised she’d annoyed you as she offered you her bag of M&M’s with a sorry smile.

You tried to ignore what she’d said, knowing she didn’t mean anything by it but now she’d said it you couldn’t concentrate on the movie as Mason was filling your thoughts. Even sneaking a little glance over at him every so often but he was fully engrossed in the movie and you felt stupid that one little comment from her was making you act like this.

That was until around half an hour later when you seemingly let your eyes wander over to where he was sitting again and you found him looking back at you already. A soft smile playing on his lips as he realised he’d been caught but you just smiled back before looking back to the tv as you felt your cheeks burn.

You didn’t get to speak to him anymore that night, having to rush home so you could get ready for work the next day but that didn’t mean he left your thoughts. Frantically thinking about what you could possibly get him that wasn’t boring or cliche but you were coming up blank. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of him and everyone else by getting him something rubbish and even though this whole thing was meant to be fun you were feeling more stressed than ever.

Soon enough it was Friday though and you managed to get out of work early. Getting off the train a stop early so you could take a wander through the park whilst it was still light outside always made you feel ten times better and you knew your favourite little secret coffee shop would still be open at this time so you headed there first. The sound of leaves crunching with every step was filling you with joy but the sudden sound of a big dog barking made you jump out of your skin moments after.

The noise went as quickly as it came, hearing whoever the dog's owner was calming them down pretty quickly but you could tell they were heading your way and you froze. You loved dogs, but big ones always frightened you at first and when you looked over to your right where the source of the noise was coming from, you saw a huge German shepherd with the fluffiest ears you’d ever seen.

‘Y/n? Is that you?’

‘Mason?’ You questioned. Watching the person come more into view and your suspicions were confirmed straight away as he greated you with his signature wide smile.

‘You alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost’ he joked so you straightening yourself up and tried to look like you hadn’t nearly peed your pants.

‘Oh no, sorry I’m fine’ you smiled as your eyes averted to the huge dog sitting obediently next to him. ‘Who’s this?’

‘This is Ace’ he grinned. ‘Sorry if he was really loud a second ago, he saw a squirrel and freaked out’

‘That’s okay’ you smiled. Reaching out to scratch his head and thankfully enough he seemed pretty placid now. ‘Mase and Ace, huh? You sound like a crime fighting duo’

‘Well if he’s gonna shit himself at the sight of a squirrel I don’t see that ending very well’ he joked and you had to cover your mouth to hold in your giggles ‘What are you doing here at this time?’

‘Oh I finished work a bit early so I was just cutting through here to get a coffee’ you explained and a look of confusion took over his face.

‘Where from? I’ve been gasping for about half an hour’

‘It’s just round the corner, there’s a little coffee shop just in the woods’ you told him and before you knew it the next sentence was tumbling from your lips. ‘You fancy coming with me?’

‘Oh um- yeah sure’ he agreed, nodding excitedly and with that he followed you down the path and in the direction you were going in before he got there.

You made small talk as you walked to the cafe. A small hidden spot in the woods that you wouldn’t know was there unless you’d been shown but it was you who’d stumbled across it one day and was a secret you’d hadn't shared with anyone until now.

‘This is cute’ he noted as you approached and you had to agree with him. The little wooden hut looked like something out of one of those hallmark Christmas movies and it was your favourite spot for a little pick me up.

‘Yeah, well this stays between us’ you winked and he held his hand over his heart as if to promise it would. ‘Why don’t you grab a bench, I can run inside and get them’ you smiled. ‘What would you like?’

‘Oh, uh latte please but let me-

‘I know what you’re about to say, and the answer is no’ you smiled. Watching him roll his eyes before pulling Ace over to a picnic bench and you ran inside to grab your coffees and a few sweet treats

You were just gathering everything together when it suddenly hit you that this could be incredibly awkward. You didn’t know Mason and you weren’t good at small talk so you were beginning to wonder why you’d offered to bring him here in the first place. In the end you figured you could use this to your advantage and see if you could learn anything about him in order to get him something for secret Santa and you rehearsed a few questions in your head as you walked back over.

‘I got us a few treats, you can have the first pick’

‘Oh thank you, you shouldn’t have’ he smiled, reaching for the brownie and you made a mental note that he was a chocolate fan. ‘So how come you got to leave work early?

‘Oh some weird early Christmas thing they do, they let you choose if you want to work the morning or the afternoon and I chose morning. Why anyone would would pick the afternoon is beyond me’

‘This is so embarrassing, but I don't actually think I know what you do for work’ he laughed awkwardly and even though you pretend like you were offended there probably was no way of him knowing as you’d never spoken to him about it before

So you went on a bit of a deep dive and explained to him the wonderful world of data analysing and that you mostly worked with spreadsheets all day. You weren’t sure if he seemed impressed or thought you were mental but he was listening intently and you thought it was nice he was taking such an interest. This wasn’t going how you’d planned though as you were meant to be finding out more about him and so far all you’d worked out was his coffee of choice was a latte and he likes brownies.

You were having a nice time though, laughing away as you chatted easily but there was something about coffee that always made you overheat. No matter if it was freezing outside like right now or if you were just at home in the warm anyway, you always felt the same and you could feel the familiar heat traveling up your neck.

Mason was still asking you questions and taking quite a keen interest in what you did so you carried on speaking as you shrugged off your coat and placed your scarf next to you. This did mean you were only left in a t shirt but the cool breeze felt like heaven against your hot skin.

You were halfway through your sentence when you realised Mason wasn’t listening to you. Looking up to see his eyes fixated on your chest as he looked there intently and you could feel your arms crossing over your body to protect yourself from his gaze.

His eyes were back on your face immediately. Cheeks burning as he realised what you must have thought he was doing and it was like he didn’t know what to say as he fought to get his words out.

‘I’m s-sorry, I was just trying to read what that said’ he stuttered. Pointing to the words on your shirt that were just above your heart. ‘I promise I’m not being weird’

‘It’s okay’ you laughed, uncrossing your arms as you both giggled awkwardly and you sat with your hands in your lap so you could nervously play with your fingers under the table.

‘What does it mean?’ He whispered after a second and you could feel yourself internally cringing at having to speak about something like this to someone when you usually kept it so private.

‘It’s just some lyrics’ you shrugged, hoping he’d move on from it but unfortunately he was intent on finding out more.

‘Oh I see, what song is it?’ He asked and you cast your eyes over the lyrics once more.

But when our fingers touch, I feel my way back home

‘Navigating, twenty one pilots’

‘Ah I’ve heard of them, can’t say I’ve ever listened to them before though’ he told you before taking a sip of his coffee. ‘You like them?

‘Yeah’

‘Sorry, stupid question’ he laughed, he cheeks turning a healthy shade of pink but you just smiled back as it was something you would have probably asked him if you were the one grilling him. ’Have you ever seen them live?’

‘No, like I’d love to but I’ve not really got anyone to go with plus crowds aren’t really my thing and i probably wouldn’t even be able to afford it’

‘Really? Why wouldn’t you take Libby?’ He asked but you just shrugged as that was a bit of a sore subject for you.

‘Not her type of thing’

‘What about your boyfriend?’ He asked quietly. His eyes avoiding yours as he looked to the table and you wondered if he was asking this sneakily to figure you out or just genuinely didn’t know.

‘One has to have a boyfriend in order to take one somewhere’ you told him but he kept his head down as he nodded.

‘I see’

You didn’t have a chance to reply, a little boy and his dad coming over looking all apologetic and asking for a picture so you offered to hold Ace’s lead whilst he spoke with them for a bit and it suddenly hit you in the face that this wasn’t just your sort of friend you were having a quick coffee with. This was Mason Mount.

‘Listen, as much as I’d love to stay, I need to head home. I’m off for an away game tomorrow and I need to pack’ he smiled and even though you didn’t know him all that well you knew he’d been out for a while after an injury and this would be his first time being back in the squad again.

‘Oh cool, who are you playing?’

‘Ipswich’

‘Ah okay, well make sure you take a hat, I’ve heard it’s supposed to be freezing tomorrow and you don’t want your ears to get cold’ you told him. Mentally face palming yourself and wondering why you’d said that but he just smiled at you warmly.

‘I will’ he chuckled. ‘Do you want me to grab you another coffee before I go?’

‘I’m fine, I promise’ you reassured him and his kind eyes made your tummy flip as he sent a smile your way.

‘Well I’ll get the next one then’ he chuckled before bidding you goodbye and leaving you to finish off your drink.

You were putting everything in the bin when you realised Mason had forgotten something. Noticing the bottle that was for ace still sat on his chair and you didn’t know what to do.

You had Masons number, not that you’d ever texted him before but he was part of the movie night group chat so it wouldn't take that much for you to grab his number and text him. You weren’t sure how he’d react though and wondered if he’d be mad at you for not asking permission first but in the end you talked yourself round and sent him a quick text letting him know you had it.

You felt a weight lifted knowing he wasn’t mad at you and the little kiss at the end made your face flush. It was only one little letter but it was in the mind for the rest of the night to the point where you wondered why. Mason was was in a whole different league to you but you couldn’t deny you that you’d had a good time sitting and talking with him that afternoon.

You thought that might be the end of your private conversations with Mason but the next morning you woke up to see a notification from him on your phone and you felt your pulse quicken. Opening it as quickly as you could in your half asleep state and the sight of his face made you smile.

You’d never seen a game of football in your life but you made sure to keep an eye on the score when he was playing but when you saw it came to draw you wondered if you should send him a teasing text about it’s because he’s not worn a hat. In the end you decided against it as you didn’t want to overstep the line or even worse get ignored.

It was him that texted you next a day later as you were coming home from work and when you saw his name flash up on screen after it buzzed in your hand it was like a wave of excitement and anticipation rolled through you.

You were almost home so you quickly nipped into Sainsburys to grab everything you needed whilst Mason texted you his address. Offering to pick you up if he was too far but it was only a few bus stops away and there was one just pulling up as you left the shop. A short walk after you’d got off led you up a private road and when you were outside his drive all you could think about was how it looked like a castle.

You saw his little head moving in the front window as you walked up the path and soon enough he was opening the front door for you when you were about halfway there. His usual bright smile dressed on his face as he stood and waited for you and as you got near he stepped to the side and motioned for you to come in.

‘Here she is’ he beamed. ‘You know you didn’t need to do this, I would have come and got them’

‘I know, but I had Ace’s bottle too so I figured I’d grab that, and you’ve been traveling’ you told him as you stepped inside and a delicious feeling of warmth hit you immediately.

‘But you’ve been at work all day’

‘Yeah, sat on my arse’ you giggled and you followed after him as he lead you into the kitchen, offering you a drink whilst he popped his washing on and you couldn’t help but notice all the random assortment of things on his kitchen counter.

‘What’s all this?’ You asked, eyes taking over the random bits of paper, tickets and photos’

‘Oh just some bits I bought back. I always like to bring something back when I’ve been to an away game’

‘What do you do with it all?

‘It’s just in a big box right now. I’ve been meaning to organise it and stuff, you know so it’s easy to look back on, but I wouldn’t know where to start’

‘You should start scrapbooking’ you told him without even thinking but the short little laugh made your head snap up to look at him opposite you.

‘You what?’

‘Scrapbooking? I started doing it a few years ago with some of my old stuff from when I was a kid. It’s just a nice way of keeping it all together you know?’ You gulped, hoping you didn’t sound too ridiculous but he was nodding like he liked the idea so you didn’t feel too silly anymore. ‘And when I’ve been looking at mind numbing spreadsheets all day it’s nice to do something a little creative’

‘Do you have any pictures of yours?’ He asked, coming round to your side of the island so he could perch next to you and when his arm touched yours you felt yourself flush.

What’s happening to me? You questioned. Wondering if it was just being inside his house that was making you feel so hot and bothered but it didn’t help that his soft smile seemed to be melting your insides.

‘Not loads’ you gulped. Flicking through a few photos you’d taken of pages you were pretty proud of and he seemed fairly impressed. Asking you loads of questions about how you did it and what you used until your conversion moved to him asking about the memories you’d put in there.

‘You got dinner plans?’ He asked as his eyes looked up to the clock on his wall and you realised how late it was getting and you hadn’t had a thing since lunch.

‘No, I hadn’t thought that far ahead’ you laughed. ‘I’ll probably just pick something up on the way home’

‘Let me make you something, for saving my bacon’

‘Oh Mase, I-‘

‘Please? It’s the least I can do’ he told you but you still didn’t know if you should accept. ‘it’s just spag Bol, don’t worry I won’t kill you’

‘Okay’ you laughed. Smiling back at him just as wide as he had when you accepted his offer and he was quick to get up to make a start. Letting you help as he told you where things were that he needed but you also used it as an excuse to have a snoop around his kitchen.

‘Why do you have a million man united pens?’ You asked after a while. Your eyes catching the huge pile at the side by the fridge and you noticed the shy awkward look take over his face.

‘I always take one so I can sign stuff for the guys who wait outside but then I bring it home and forget to take it back with me again so I pick another one up and the cycle continues’ he huffed. ‘Help yourself if you want one’

You were surprised at how much of a good cook he was, asking if you could have the recipe but he let you know it was a Mount family secret and the only way to get it was to join. You knew it was just a joke but the idea made you blush and you knew you’d have to leave soon so you didn’t make a fool out of yourself. He offered to drop you but you knew he had an early training session so you told him you’d be fine on the bus as you didn’t live far. He wasn’t happy with this though and demanded he got you an uber so to avoid an argument you accepted.

It was on your way home you had a long hard think about what to get Mason for Christmas. So far he’d been asking you more questions than the other way around but from what you’d learnt tonight you wondered if getting him his own scrapbooking stuff would be a good gift. He’d told you he wanted to sort all his memories out and seemed really interested in what you’d done but you wondered if it was something he’d start himself or if he’d need a push.

Once you were in bed you made a start to find him the perfect scrapbook. In the end picking two as you couldn’t decide between the deep blue or the red and figured he might like to have both to keep both phases of his life separate. Everything else you figured you could grab from your usual stationary shop the next time you went as you could see the perfect stickers for him in your mind.

You kept away from talking to him until his next game. You knew he hadn’t started the game but you’d seen a lot of praise for him online and you couldn’t help but send him a quick message.

From that day onwards you kept in contact everyday, even if it was just a little good luck text before a game or evenings you’d spend the whole night talking. Your little fingers furiously tapping away at your screen to the point you didn’t want to say goodbye some nights and he never made you feel annoying or like you were a bother to him.

Your aim to try and find out more about him was working wonders as you were finding out new things every day. His favourite sweets, his favourite drink, his favourite holiday he’s ever been on. All now in your brain for future use but it was a week and a half later that you thought you’d learned something you didn’t want to.

You were at Libbys for a catch up, her and Aaron having taken a small trip the week before and she’d invited you over for some pizza and a catch up but you knew before you’d even started you should have done it at your house. Aaron was clearly online with all the boys playing one of their games and his cries were louder than you’d ever heard them. In the end you took it upon yourself to try and sort out the situation.

It seemed to do the trick and you and Libby were able to have a conversation in peace for the most part. Aaron reemerged around an hour and a half later to come and get a drink but he stopped by the sofa to check in on you both.

‘How’s your game?’ You asked and he smiled at the fact you’d taken an interest.

‘Yeah good, it’s just Mase and a few of the boys’ he shrugged. ‘Speaking of Mase, I’m 95% sure he’s got a girlfriend’

You weren’t sure why, but you felt your heart sink immediately. You enjoyed spending time with him lately and knowing he’d kept it from you stung a little bit. You kept your face as blank as possible though as Libby started to grill Aaron about it excitedly.

‘Why do you think that?’

‘He was texting someone as we were playing and you should have seen the smile on his face like that’s an I’m down bad for a girl smile’

‘I’ve never known Mason to even be talking to a girl the whole time we’ve known him’ she said, turning to look at you for some sort of agreement on your part but you just shrugged wishing you’d never asked.

‘Trust me, he talks to girls. He can get pretty much whoever he wants’ he shrugged, your heart now beating in your ears as you felt your skin flush. ‘This is different though, It's not a hookup smile it’s an i worship the ground you walk on type smile’

‘Is that how you smile when you think of me’ she smiled. Her hand on his thigh as he placed a kiss to her head and you felt like you were watching in on an intimate moment.

‘Always’ he whispered sinserly.

‘Ugh, you two make me sick’ you huffed, wanting to get up and leave them to it but you could see Aaron getting up to go so you stayed where you were.

‘Sorry squirt’ Aaron smiled, ruffling your hair as he passed by the back of you and you groaned as you got it back into place.

‘Anyway I won’t believe you until I meet this girl’ Libby called and you wished the pair of them would just drop it. You tummy swirling with sadness as you thought about him flirting with someone else and it took everything in you to try and seem unbothered.

‘I promise you, my spidey senses are always correct and I definitely think he’s got the eyes for someone. Maybe he’ll bring her to the next movie night if I can convince him?’

‘Ooo yes you should try’ she smiled, clapping her hands excitedly as you knew she loved entertaining for new people but you couldn’t think of anything worse than meeting Mason's new lady friend and having to act like it didn’t bother you.

‘Hey y/n? In case I don’t see you before you go, what’s your favourite chocolate?’ Aaron suddenly asked, turning back to you both just as he was about to leave and you were confused by the sudden random question.

‘Dairy milk, why?’

‘Mason was asking. He’s been asking a lot of questions about you now I come to think of it’ he mused but you wanted to move away from the topic as quickly as possible.

‘Oh… I’m sure it’s nothing’ you laughed. ‘Maybe he’s making a list of stuff he needs for new years?’

‘Oh yeah, could be’ he shrugged but you made sure to change the subject as quickly as you could so Libby didn’t ask anymore questions and put you on the spot.

It was less than five minutes later when Mason messaged you. A smug smile on your face as you read it over what he’d said but it wasn’t until you were on the way home and you reflected over the evening that it hit you what might be happening.

Why did you care? He was just a guy in your friendship group who was way out of your league and probably wouldn’t look twice at you anyway. You weren’t even sure if you could refer to him as a friend at this point as it was only over the last few weeks you’d grown somewhat closer so why did you care if he had a girlfriend?

Because you knew he didn’t look at you like he looked at everyone else. Because you knew he was bringing out a whole new side of you where you didn’t feel like a spare part or a burden and because his smile lit up a part of you you didn’t even know existed until now.

You never expected to have a crush on anyone at this point in your life, let alone Mason, and you had no idea what to do about it. The idea of pushing it down was appealing as the thought of him finding out was not on the top of your list of fun things to do and you knew it wouldn’t be that simple. You’d be spending more time with him soon enough and you didn’t want to act weird around him and scare him off so you figured you could just act like everything was normal and hopefully he’d be none the wiser in time for your crush to inevitably wear off.

You managed to keep things up until a few days later when it was movie night again. The last one of the year and you were really hoping you could spend some time with him beforehand as you’d be sat with Libby when the movie was on. Unfortunately for you he was nowhere to be seen and you knew Libby was looking at you weirdly as you constantly looked around the room.

‘Hey you’ you suddenly heard as you had your head buried in your phone, Mason's cheerful voice filling your ears and when you turned to see him you felt your heart thump. Trying to bite back a smile as he made his way over through the sea of everyone else and his boyish grin was making your tummy flutter.

‘Hey, you alright?’ You smiled back, trying not to let on too much about how happy you were to see him but he was smiling back at you just as widely and it was contagious.

‘Yeah good, training was a bit later today and it was tough so I’m knackered’

‘Well at least you can sit down for a bit now’ you offered as you pushed a drink you’d saved for him towards him and he gave you a grateful smile.

‘Speaking of sitting, will you come sit next to me for a sec? I wanna show you something’ he asked as he nodded towards the living and you followed him into his usual spot on the sofa. It was a few seats from where you usually sat but you figured you’d have time to move before the movie started. ‘What do you think?’ He asked as he passed you his phone and it took a second to realise what you were seeing. Laughing as you tried to speak and as you leant onto him he squeezed your thigh softly.

‘What’s this?’

‘I was talking to my tattoo artist the other day and he was asking about Ace. I mentioned you said we sound like a crime fighting duo and he sent me this yesterday morning’ he laughed, enlarging the hand drawn image of Mason and Ace dressed up like superheroes and you thought it was the best thing you’d ever seen.

‘This is incredible’ you laughed. ‘You should so get this tattooed somewhere’

‘Oh yeah?’ He winked. ‘I was thinking on my ribs? Like right under the champions league one’

‘Oh yeah, the perfect spot’ you teased. The pair of you chuckling away as you sat and spoke and just like always with Mason time seemed to pass you both by quickly.

The room had slowly started to fill up but you took no notice until the lights were being dimmed and you realised you weren’t sat next to Libby like always. Looking over to see her pouting at you but you felt too awkward to move now as everyone was sat down and you’d have to shuffle everyone up from their seats to be back with her. Not to mention you’d feel rude moving away from Mason.

‘You want a blanket, Mase?’ You suddenly heard from one of the boys across the room. Watching it catapult through the air but he caught it easily and when he unfolded it and laid it over the both of your laps you felt your cheeks burn.

‘You okay to share?’ He asked quietly. A slight quiver of shyness in his voice but you figured you must have been hearing things. There was no reason he would ever need to be shy with you and you figured it must have just been him trying to keep quiet around everyone. ‘Have you um, have you got enough room?’ He questioned. Trying his best to turn himself into the corner of the sofa to make sure you had enough space but you were quite happy being pressed up against him so you just nodded and let him lay his arm across the back of the sofa behind you.

You tried your best to focus on the movie in front of you but Mason was fidgeting a bit. You wondered if it was just him and that he was always like this but when you looked up to his face you could see he was trying to fight himself from falling asleep. He’d told you earlier it was a pretty brutal training session and clearly he was paying for it now but he looks so awkward and uncomfortable you weren’t sure if you should wake him up.

You went against it in the end, just manoeuvring him a little so he could rest his head on yours as you popped your head on his shoulder and you couldn’t contain your smile as he linked his arm through yours and hugged it to his chest.

You spent the next hour with him peacefully sleeping on you. His gentle snores and warm body almost sending you off to sleep yourself but you kept yourself awake and when the movie was over and the lights back on you felt him jolt awake.

‘Shit, was i asleep?’ He mumbled. Trying to look around the room to figure out where he was and you thought he looked adorable in his half awake state.

‘I think you were only awake for the first ten minutes’ you chuckled, watching his face contort in embarrassment but he had nothing to be embarrassed of at all.

‘Sorry if I crushed you’

‘You were surprisingly comfortable’ you whispered, looking up to see him smiling shyly at you but before either of you could speak Libby had come to stand in front of both of you and you were suddenly hyper aware of the fact you were both still under the blanket with his arms wrapped around yours.

‘Hey Mase? Aaron was sure you’d be bringing your new girlfriend tonight but instead you just stole mine’ she sneered and you felt yourself stiffen with awkwardness. Wondering what Mason would say or do but thankfully he just smiled back at her and held your arm a little tighter.

‘You’ve got Aaron’ he shrugged, trying to make out she was still fine but when she put her hands on her hips you knew she was more pissed off than she appeared to be.

‘But movie nights are our nights’

‘Well unfortunately you’ll have to learn to share’ he laughed. Letting you go before wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind and pulling you back towards him like he was claiming you. You felt your cheeks burn at how he was acting with you but you couldn’t say you weren’t enjoying this side of him no matter how Libby was looking at you.

‘I didn’t even know you two spoke’

‘Well now you do’ he shrugged nonchalantly before unwrapping himself from you. ‘I wouldn’t worry, she’s only here for my spag bol recipe’ he joked but it went straight over Libby's head as she looked back at the pair of you blankly. ‘Anyway, I need to be getting off. I’ve got training early and I need to sort my washing out’

‘I need to go too, I’m on an early start tomorrow’ you told her but Mason grabbed your arm just as you were standing up.

‘I’ll drop you home, yeah?’ He offered but before you could reply there was a scoff beside you.

‘What the fuck is going on?’ she questioned but you didn’t have time to explain and right now you didn’t exactly want to.

‘I’ll text you, okay?’ You told her. Pulling her in for a quick hug before following Mason out the door and as soon as you were plugged into the seat you knew the questions were coming.

‘Libby is intense sometimes. I get the feeling she doesn’t like us talking’ Mason told you as he pulled away from the curb and you shrugged your shoulders in response. Libby has been your best friend since you were kids but she was a bit of a control freak and whilst she liked to know the ins and outs of everyone else’s business, she very rarely shared much of her own life unless you pushed hard.

‘She’ll be fine, I think she just feels out of the loop’

‘What loop would that be?’ He quizzed lightly but you didn’t have the guts to look at him right now.

‘Well we’ve never really spoken before, I can see why she might be a bit confused’

‘And you didn’t tell her we talk?’

‘No’ you gulped, fiddling with your fingers in your lap for some sort of distraction but the next thing you knew Mason had pried them apart with his own and held one to stop you fidgeting. A kind smile on his face as he continued to look ahead and drive but you were thankful he wasn’t looking at you as you now resembled a tomato and you figured you should keep talking so you didn’t spiral about what was going on right now. ‘I didn’t see the need to and I like keeping this between us. She keeps things from me all the time yet wants to know everything about me. I just liked things being a little private cause I know she likes to make a big deal out of everything, I hope that’s not weird’

‘Not at all, I like it’ he reassured you. Squeezing your hand softly before letting go and you missed his warmth immediately ‘So I guess the next time I’ll see you will be new years?’

You hadn't realised you’d pulled up outside your house already, too distracted by the way his hand felt in yours and when he turned to you in his seat you did the same to get a better look at him.

‘I guess so yeah’ you nodded sadly. ‘I hope you have a lovely Christmas, and good luck with all your games’

‘Thank you, you too’ he smiled before a look of uncertainty washed over his face. ‘Do you um… let me walk you to your door’

‘Oh don’t be silly’ you told him but he was already unplugging himself and reaching for his door handle.

‘No no, I want to’ he smiled and you didn’t want to fight him on it so you just got out and led the way. Turning to face him as you reached your front door and you were both looking at each other like you didn’t know what to say.

‘Do you want to come in or…’ you started but you knew when he popped his hands in his pockets that it was going to be a no.

‘Best not, I’ve got to be up early-‘

‘Oh sorry, of course’ you laughed but he just smiled back softly at you.

‘Don’t be silly’ he smiled, reaching for your arm and pulling you towards his body and before you knew it you were tucked against him as he wrapped his arms around you.

It was like all the noise in your brain stopped. A calmness falling over you as he held you to his chest and your whole body relaxed into his as you felt his body do the same. God he smells so good you thought as you took a deep breath and you couldn’t stop yourself from holding him a bit tighter. You hadn't had a hug like this in a while and it was like you could feel all the broken parts of you being filled up by him.

‘Thank you for letting me sleep on you earlier’ he whispered into your hair and all you wanted to do was melt into him more.

‘Anytime’ you laughed and when he started to pull back you did the same. Quickly saying goodnight to each other before he darted back to the car and you noticed he didn’t leave until he knew you were inside.

You weren’t expecting to hear from him over the next few days. It was a really important game coming up for him and all he’d done was tell you how excited he was to play but the game had barely started and you felt your heart drop.

You hadn't even seen what had happened, but the distraught look on his face as he sat on the pitch was like nothing you’d ever felt before. You wanted to run to him, to hold him like he’d held you a few nights ago and let him know it was okay and that you were there for him but you couldn’t. You just started blankly at your screen as he walked off the pitch and down the tunnel.

You didn’t know what to do, if he wanted to hear from you or anyone at all, but in the end you sent him a text. Even if he didn’t reply you still wanted him to know you were there for him no matter what and later on that night before bed his name was flashing up on your screen.

Not exactly the reply you were hoping for but you understood. He was frustrated and hurt and probably wasn't in the mood for anyone or anything but the next day at around 4pm his name was flashing up again.

So he called you that night, and the night after you called him. Each night turning into one you’d spend on the phone with him for at least an hour but it always felt like five minutes. Letting Mason offload about how upset and disappointed he was with this fresh injury yet with each passing day you noticed him perk up a bit. Taking his mind off of everything and getting him excited for the holidays and it melted your heart to hear him talk about spending time with his family and getting to see all the little ones.

You figured Christmas Day he’d be too busy to talk but he text you in the evening asking for a chat and you loved listening to him talk about his day. Letting each other know what gifts you’d gotten and what you’d done until the excitement of the day had gotten too much for him and you heard his sleepy snores on the other end of the line.

If there was ever a time you wanted to crawl through the phone and be with him it would have been now as the thought of him sleeping all alone pulled on your heart strings. You wanted to hold him and stroke his hair and fall asleep right next to him but to you it was just a dream.

By the time New Year’s Eve had rolled around you’d spoken every day in between. You knew today would be different as you were actually getting to see him and you were nervous beyond belief but also filled with excitement at maybe getting to speak to him later. You knew he might be busy as it was his party but you were holding out hope that he could make time for you even just for a bit.

The plan was to get ready at Libby's house so you could get your drink on a bit early before you left and as soon as you were ready she was calling Aaron in to take pictures of the pair of you. She looked stunning all dressed up in a short sparkly number and you felt under dressed in comparison. Opting for a little black dress that was your trusty favourite as you just wanted to be comfortable tonight but now you were wondering if you should have worn something else.

‘Do you know if Masons, okay? You know after the injury? I'd hate to turn up and he doesn’t want company’ Libby asked Aaron as you all got your coats on and you listened intently to Aaron’s answer.

‘I’ll be honest baby, no one’s really heard from him since it happened. We’ve text him but he’s not said too much’ he shrugged but you made sure to keep quiet. Trying to keep the smile off your face at the fact he was seemingly only talking to you and you couldn’t help but feel a little smug about it.

You didn’t see Mason when you arrived, Aaron just barging his way in like he’d owned the place and after you’d shrugged your coats off you made your first stop in the dining room so you could drop your gifts onto the table before following the pair of them into the main living room. It was full of people and your eyes were only looking for one person to the point where Aaron and Libby had walked off to say hello to some of your friends and you hadn’t even realised.

It didn’t take much longer to spot him, standing with a guy you didn’t know and two girls in the tightest dresses you’d ever seen. Your mood plummeting as you watched the one closest to him laugh at what he was saying as she placed a hand on his upper arm and you had to look away.

You felt a set of eyes on you a few seconds after though, looking back up to see Mason looking your way with a soft smile on his face and you couldn’t help but mirror it. You wanted nothing more than to head straight over to him but the company he was with scared you and you didn’t want to interrupt. He was two steps ahead of you though and quickly said goodbye to the people he was with before making his way over to you.

‘You’re here’ he smiled. Stopping just in front of you and you wondered if he would hug you or touch you in any way but he didn’t. His smile and eyes a little dozy from where he’d been drinking but you knew he wasn’t drunk and if anything it just made him look even more adorable as his eyes flickered all over your face.

‘I’m here’ you laughed, not really knowing what to say as you were so nervous and you knew he was looking at your hands as you were playing with your fingers like usual.

‘You look… you look really nice’

‘Thank you’ you whispered, your cheeks heating at his words and you let your eyes flicker over him. He wasn’t dressed in anything outlandish, a simple boxy white t shirt and some baggy jeans but he looked just as good as always. ‘You do too’

‘Oh this old thing?’ He laughed, fiddling with the hem of his T-shirt. ‘Do you have a drink yet?’

‘No, we only just got here’ you told him, trying to motion to Libby and Aaron who you figured were still somewhere close by but you couldn’t see them anywhere.

‘Come on, I’ll get you one. I know where all the good stuff is’ he smiled and he surprised you by taking your hand and leading you through into the kitchen. You knew there were eyes on you but you kept your eyes on the floor and followed him, letting him pick you whatever drink he fancied and in the end he made you both the same before leading you back into the main living room. ‘Can i introduce you to someone?’

‘Oh um, sure’ you gulped, following him back to the guy who you’d seen him with when you’d first gotten here, but this time he was on his own.

‘This is Ben, we played together at Chelsea’ he smiled. Popping his hand on your waist as he stopped you but to your delight he didn’t move it away. ‘Ben, this is y/n’

‘It’s nice to meet you’ he smiled, his bright blue eyes staring right into your soul but no matter how pretty they were, they were no match for Masons chestnut orbs. ‘Thanks for looking after him up here, I know he appreciates having your little group to make him feel a bit normal’

‘That’s okay, it’s not me you should be thanking anyway’ you explained as you felt Masons hand leave you. Looking to the side to see him saying hello to a few more people you didn’t know but Ben seemed keen to carry on talking to you.

‘Of course I should, he’s been telling me loads about you lately’

‘Oh yeah?’ You laughed. The back of your neck warming as you tried to brush off his comment but he seemed insistent on telling you how much you were helping his friend.

‘I’m serious, I know things took a turn for him lately but he’s told me how much talking to you everyday has helped. Even if you don’t mean to be, it’s a lot to him’

‘Well I care about him a lot’ you admitted. Words you’d never even admitted to yourself let alone spoken out loud but it didn’t feel strange to finally say it. ‘I just want him to know he’s not on his own and he’s got us’

‘Well it makes me feel a lot better too’ he smiled before you felt that familiar warm hand on your waist again and Mason's lips by your ear.

‘Sorry guys, I’m back’ he grinned, squeezing you gently as Ben changed the subject. Probably not wanting Mason to know he’d caught onto the pair of you so quickly and you’d never been more thankful to talk about football before.

Mason didn’t leave your side for the rest of the night, and if he did it was only for a minute or two. His hand permanently on you whether that be your waist or his arm slung around your shoulder and you loved the way he didn’t want to leave you as you definitely didn't want to leave him.

‘You don't have to spend all your night with me, you know’ you told him as he guided you back to the kitchen to get you both a new drink and the look of shock on his face made you giggle.

‘Is that your subtle way of telling me to piss off?’

‘No’ you laughed. ‘But it’s your party, I thought you might wanna talk to some other people’

‘I’m fine here’ he shrugged as he passed you a glass and you made sure your face looked offended by his silly comment.

‘Just fine?’

‘Maybe a bit more than fine’ he chuckled, stepping closer to you as he threw you a wink and you could feel his breath on your cheek.

‘We should get going, secret Santa starts soon and you know what she’s like’ you whispered, a smug smile on his face as he realised what you were doing but he just nodded without breaking eye contact.

‘You go, I’ll see you in there’ he whispered. Letting you leave the kitchen on your own as he went the other way and as soon as you made it into the dining room you went and stood with Libby. You hadn’t seen her in hours but she never said a word about it and just smiled before she cleared her throat for everyone.

‘Secret Santa gifts are on the table. Just go and find the one with your name on and see what you get’ she giggled whilst clapping her hands and you knew she was excited as she dove right into hers.

Yours was next to Libbys and it was the biggest of them all. A big square box that was wrapped to perfection and you knew Libby was eyeing it curiously as hers was only a little bag.

Usually you would have waited until everyone had got going so you could open your gift whilst everyone was occupied but you were intrigued as to what was inside and you lifted the lid immediately. Tearing your way through the sparkly tissue paper until you caught sight of what was hidden inside. The red and yellow catching your eye instantly and you knew exactly what it was as you picked it up and gave it a once over.

‘I swear to god I’m never suggesting this again’ you heard Libby huff from beside you. Snapping you out of your moment with your gift as you looked at what she was holding and you couldn’t deny you felt awful for her. A crappy Christmas mug with the worst pixelated image of Santa you’d ever seen and a little box of hot chocolate powder to go with it. ‘There’s no way this was £20’

‘Ah I’m sorry Libs’

‘It’s whatever’ she told you before her eyes landed on your gift. ‘What’s that?’

‘It’s a vinyl’ you smiled as your eyes flew back to what was between your hands.

‘Twenty one pilots? That’s so random’

‘Not entirely’ you smiled, having a pretty good idea as to who you thought had picked this out for you as there was a certain song on this album that you’d spoken about with someone pretty recently. You were too nervous to look up and find his eyes though so you flipped it over to look at the other side to find two signatures perfectly etched onto the cover. A small gasp falling from your lips as you saw them and a rush of gratitude took over you. This was the most thoughtful gift you’d ever received and before you knew it your eyes were frantically looking for Masons.

You didn’t have to look too far, his eyes were on you already and and from the slight blush on his cheeks you were fairly certain it was him that had gifted you this.

You wanted to run over and pull him into your arms so you could thank him but you held back. Nodding down to the gift that was in front of him in hopes he’d open it but it suddenly hit you that what you’d decided to buy him paled in comparison to the thought he’d put in for you. You’d basically bought him crafting supplies whilst he’d he’d delved into your brain and got you something you’d loved that you would never have bought for yourself.

You couldn’t look, hearing a few giggles from people in his general direction and the nervousness took over your body and you had to flee. Popping your vinyl back into the box before making a swift exit out of the nearest door which thankfully led into the main room and you were back with Ben.

You asked if you could stick with him for a bit and he thankfully agreed. Telling you stories about Mason from when he was back in Chelsea and you loved learning about this side of him. The Mason up here seeming pretty reserved to the cheeky chap Ben was used to but you’d seen glimpses of it and you couldn’t wait for Mason to show you more.

You didn’t know what you were walking into but you found his room fairly easily. The door was slightly ajar and after a quick deep breath and a couple of knocks, you could hear his voice on the other side.

‘Come in’

‘H-hey, it’s me’ you told him as you popped your head round but he was waving you in fully so you walked in and shut the door behind you.

‘Hey’ he smiled ‘I take it this is all you then?’ He asked as he motioned to all the stuff you’d bought that was scattered over his bed and you felt like disappearing into the floor.

‘Oh um, yeah listen I’m sorry I know it’s a bit shit-‘

‘Are you kidding me?’ He laughed ‘I love it’

‘What? Are you serious?’

‘Of course, I’ve started sorting some bits out already but I think I might need your help with a lot of it. Do you think you’d be up for it?’ He asked. His tone excited as he smiled at you wildly and even though you’d be more than happy to help, the gravity of what he was asking you to do suddenly hit you out of nowhere.

‘Those are your memories, Mase’ you whispered. ‘Are you sure, that’s huge?’

‘Is it?’

‘Well yeah, if I help you then everytime you look at that stuff you’ll be thinking of me’ you explained but he just shrugged as he picked the red one up to give it a proper look.

‘You bought me the books, I’ll be thinking about you no matter what’ he laughed before his face got a little more serious. ‘I’m sure, okay? I really need your help’

‘I can help’ you nodded. Taking a seat next to him on his bed but you wanted to talk about something else rather than the random assortment of things on his bed. ‘I take it mine was from you then?’

‘You got me’ he giggled, holding his hands up in fake surrender. ‘Do you like it?’

‘Well I was hoping for a step ladder I can’t lie’ you teased but saw through you right away as he laughed along. ‘I’m kidding, it's perfect. Where did you even get it?’

‘I know people’ he shrugged. ‘I’m glad you like it though, I had no idea at first like we barely knew each other’

‘I did wonder why you suddenly wanted to talk to me so much’

‘I had nothing to go on, I needed something’ he smiled before his face got a little more serious. ‘Your present, It’s actually a bit of a two parter’ he smiled, reaching into his bedside drawer and producing a white envelope that he’d written your name on.

‘What’s this?’ You asked, taking it from him carefully and you wondered if it was just a Christmas card but he seemed a bit too excited to give it to you if it was just that.

‘Open it’ he told you softly and you couldn’t wait any longer. Tearing into it as carefully as you could before pulling out two tickets.

‘Mase…’ you breathed. ‘No Mase I can’t-‘

‘Of course you can’ he grinned, shuffling closer to you until your thighs touched. ‘The only reasons you told me you couldn’t go were you couldn’t afford it, which I’ve taken care of. You didn’t like crowds and I’ve booked you into a vip section so there’s not too many other people around. The only part I can’t help you with is finding someone to go with. You need to pick’

‘Will you come with me?’ You asked immediately. You knew they weren’t his thing as he’d told you he’d never listened to them before but you figured going with Mason made more sense than anyone else.

‘You want me to come? I didn’t get them for you for you to pick me’ he told you softly and you could tell he was biting back a smile at being the person you wanted with you.

‘But what if I want to go with you’ you whispered. ‘It’s my gift right? My decision on who I get to take. I want to take you’ you told him but then it hit you he might not want to go either and you didn’t want to force him. ‘But if you don’t want to-‘

‘Okay’ he smiled, cutting you off as he bumped your arm. ‘We can go together’

‘Look at us, eh. Who would have thought’ you joked, watching the way his eyes crinkled as he let out a laugh and all you wanted was to get closer to him.

‘Not me’ he winked. Bumping his shoulder into yours again. ‘Thank you, though. I was dreading this whole secret Santa thing but I’ve actually really enjoyed getting to know you’

‘I have too’ you whispered. His serious face was making you nervous, like he was about to tell you he’d see you around and burst the perfect bubble you’d created.

‘I know it’s like all over and stuff but we can still hang out right?’ He questioned. Your face breaking out into a smile at the fact you’d read it all wrong and you knew he was laughing at your reaction.

‘Yeah? You mean you still want to?’

‘Of course’ he grinned. ‘I mean I’ve been thinking of excuses for ages to try and see you. Remember when I needed washing tablets?’

‘I remember’ you laughed, grinning as he smiled back at you.

‘I didn’t really need them, I just wanted you to come over’ he giggled. And this last week or so, it’s been shit. But getting to speak to you and offload like you let me, I didn’t realise how much I needed someone for that’

‘I just hated the thought of you being alone and stressing about’

‘Well I did for the first night’ he laughed. Placing his hand behind your back on the bed and leaning into you more but it caused the bed to dip and you felt your heart flutter at how close his face seemed to yours now. His lips merely an inch away and it wouldn’t take much for you to lean forward. ‘But you’ve really picked me back up off the floor you know?’

‘It was nothing’ you laughed. Your eyes now in your lap as you nervously played with you fingers but once again he was. Breaking them apart with his own as he laced his through your and gripped your hand softly.

‘You do that a lot you know’ he chuckled softly, rubbing his thumb along the black of you hand gently and you could feel your tummy flipping as he did.

‘I think it’s just a nervous habit’

‘You don’t need to be nervous with me’ he whispered. Eyes dropping to your lips for a second before he was looking straight back in your eyes.

It was like you could feel the magnetic force of him pulling you closer, wanting nothing more than to kiss him and you were pretty sure he wanted to kiss you back as he was leaning in just as slowly.

This is it, you thought. The last few weeks imagining what it would be like to be closer to him and kiss him was now seeming to come to fruition but oddly enough for you, you didn’t feel nervous. This felt like you were exactly where you were meant to and all you wanted was to close the gap and finally feel him properly.

You were broken out of your trance by the sound of your phone ringing, the pair of you looking down and you cursed under your breath as you fumbled to try and retrieve it. Libby’s name flashing up on your screen and you gulped hard before answering.

‘H-hello?’

‘Hey, where are you?’ She asked. Music pounding in the background and it hit you that you’d barely been around her this evening.

‘Oh I’m… I’m on the loo’

‘Well hurry up and come back, it’s almost midnight’

‘I’ll be down in a sec’ you told her. Shutting off the call and turning to Mason who was looking at you was a soft smile. ‘It’s um, it’s almost midnight’

‘You go, I’ll see you down there in a sec’

‘Mase-‘

‘Go on, before she has another fit’ he chuckled, cutting you off with a smile but his cheeks were bright red and you knew he was feeling a little embarrassed so you made a quick dash and felt downstairs.

You made it down just in time, the whole room buzzing as it was edging closer to midnight and you found Libby fairly quickly. Taking her hand as she pulled you into her side and you could tell she was having a good night with all your friends.

When the count down began you felt Libby reach for you again, pulling you in for a hug first just like always and you squeezed her back before releasing her as you got to five. Knowing she would want to spend the last of the count down with Aaron and you’d be standing there awkwardly just like always.

You hoped this year you’d have at least someone around you but all the other girls were coupled up and you didn’t know where to look. Eventually backing off so you could stand to the side and out of the way like most years but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

It was like the next few seconds happened in slow motion, turning to see who stopped you and when you looked up into those warm brown eyes it was like you were transported back to ten minutes ago. Mason looking at you with his lips slightly parted as his breathing got a bit heavier.

You couldn’t hear the countdown anymore, all your energy focused on the boy in front of you but you knew it must have been finishing shortly as Mason pulled you closer to his body. His free hand cupping your jaw gently so he could tilt your face up towards his and as the words happy new year were shouted around the room he lent down and pulled you in for a kiss.

It was only short. His lips just about touching yours before he pulled back but it was seemingly just to check you were okay before he lent back in to kiss you much deeper and you felt your knees give way as he pulled you closer to his body.

You were aware that your hands were limp by your side but you felt too in shock to do anything with them for a beat until they were trailing up his strong arms and resting on his chest. His heart thrumming under your fingertips and soon enough the reality of the situation hit you causing a smile to break out on your lips that he was soon mirroring.

‘Happy new year’ he whispered once he’d pulled away. His face still close to yours as he stroked your jaw and the little glint in his eye made you lose your breath slightly.

‘Happy new year’

‘Sorry, I just-‘

‘It’s okay’ you smiled. Cutting him off slightly as you didn’t want him to apologise for anything that has just happened. ‘I’ve never been kissed at midnight so thanks’

‘The pleasure was all mine’ he winked as he wrapped both arms around your waist and pulled you further into him but you were still in such a daze you didn’t know what to say.

‘What is going on’ you whispered with a laugh, hoping he understood what you meant and from the laugh he sent you back you realised he had.

‘I don’t know’ he laughed back. ‘But these last two months, getting to know you, you’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met’ he told you but seemingly knew how that must have sounded as you tried to bite back a smile whilst he tickled your sides. ‘And I know that sounds cheesey as fuck, but being with you it’s like I’m finally alright after feeling so lost up here for so long. That song we talked about, I’ve been listening to it non stop and all I can’t think about is the fact when I’m with you I feel at home’

‘Mase’ you pouted, tears springing in your eyes immediately as you’d never heard anything so beautiful before and as he kissed your forehead you felt your skin tingle.

‘I know we were moaning about it, but I’m so glad we agreed to the whole secret Santa thing cause it’s like you’ve been right under my nose and I had no idea I could feel like this about someone. You get me in a way no one else does and the way we just clicked so quickly… I don't know. I’m rambling now but if you don’t feel the same it’s okay but I meant what I said upstairs. I wanna keep hanging out and getting to know you but maybe…’

‘Maybe what?’ You smiled, knowing he was trying to brush his feelings off just in case you didn’t feel the same but little did he know you were just in shock as you could never have imagined him saying this to you.

‘I don’t know’ he laughed, squeezing your sides again to make you laugh. ‘I don’t know how you feel and I don’t want to make an arse of myself’

‘I want the same’ you gulped, trying to find an ounce of courage to try and let him know how you were feeling but even though you wanted to shout it from the rooftops for him, it was like you couldn’t get the words out. ‘Sorry this is all so new to me I don’t really know what to say either’

‘I think we’re both just too shy for our own good’ he told you and you nodded in agreement, loving that he knew you so well already and when he pulled you even closer you wrapped your arms around his neck so his face was closer to yours. ‘So you like me… in the same way I like you?’

‘Yeah’ you gulped. Realising he’d changed his tactics to just ask you questions to make things easier for you and you smiled up at him as he kissed your nose.

‘And you’re happy to keep hanging out… just the two of us?’ He asked, lips trailing across your jaw now as your knees became weak but his strong grip around your waist was keeping you steady.

‘Yes’

‘And I can kiss you again?’

‘Yes’ you breathed, finding it increasingly difficult to answer him as he continued to kiss all over your face and you knew you were blushing like a fool.

‘Whenever I like?’

‘Depends on when you’d like’ you replied and the chuckle he let out just below your ear made you shiver in delight before he pulled back to look at you properly.

‘Right now?’

‘Go on then’ you whispered, watching him lean in a touch before his eyes flashed back up to yours.

‘One more thing’ he asked quietly, his face serious and you had no idea what he was about to say. ‘You promise this isn’t just for my spag Bol recipe?’

‘I’ll never tell’

‘I’ll take it’ he whispered. Finally leaning down and closing the gap again to kiss you softly and claim you in front of everyone.

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harumasa-wifey · 17 days ago

Text

➹Happy New Year»———>

✖Asaba Harumasa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight spoilers of chap 5(nothing major) Not proofread

Category: fluff

Note:i was inspired by the new official art and wrote this I was supposed to post it last night but I fell asleep while writing,Sorry for the wait.i cannot picture the accurate spot of this pic but I saw one in game I'll post a pic of it later for reference!

“Meet me behind the cafe in lumina square”

This was the last text you had received from him as you left Random play after meeting with the siblings to return the movie you had rented and wishing them a happy New year in advance.

It was New year's eve and thankfully to the deputy chief you all were out and about today. No fighting hollows , No overload paperwork and some extra which asaba adds to you sneakily because he is too lazy to do them.You love him a lot but you wish sometimes he would Stop adding his paperwork on your desk. It can be a great hassle to finish them in time.

Lumina square always makes every New Year a grand one and a beautiful one to look forward to. You made your way to the metro station hurriedly taking the last train of the hour to the lumina square after talking with Nicole and the others in the cunning hares. The metro was full of people like the elderly, the people with their family, the young highschool students and the couples.

The thought of how this year went passes through your mind. The whole incident with the vision cooperation and the chase in the hollow was stressful. Although it hasn't been completely disposed of, you all can rest easy for the holidays. It was thanks to all of the background support everyone made it safely in the end.

Your thoughts came to an end as the mic on the train announced its stop , you got off the train heading out the metro station into the bustling city of New Eridu. There were lights everywhere and it was more crowded than usual, but there was still one place left to visit before you went to meet him.

Meeting the person you love on new year's eve without a gift doesn't sound right to you so here you are.Standing outside the shop while having second thoughts on what to get him. You had made up your mind to feed him some delicious sweets that are being sold around this time of year even though he likes the bitterness now and is not bothered by it.Having something sweet every once a while would definitely not harm him.

As you look around and yellowish star keychain catches your eye with a little Clover inside. There was something that attracted you to it, so without thinking further you had made the purchase and had it warped in a box.

And your next stop was The cafe.

You had made your way over to the cafe with a little pubsec bangboo to help you cross the road. You re-read his message and made your way to the back of the cafe.

There he was standing while leaning against the palisade while holding a small wrapped box in his hand, his attention over to you as he heard your footsteps coming closer.

“Well look who finally decided to grace me with their presence.Took you long enough”

He spoke with a gentle smile on his face as you rushed over to him.

“I am sorry! I was at the Sixth street when I got your message”

He chuckled at her worries about being late.

“Calm down baby, I was just teasing. No need to rush i just got in myself”

You could hear the crowd hushed as the first firework arched into the velvety night sky as he extended his hand holding the gift box his yellow eyes shining in the lights whispering in a soft tone.

“Happy new year”

Your instinct told you to go and hug him so that's what you did, wrapping your arms around his neck particularly throwing yourself over him not to worry he will always there to catch you.

“Happy new year asaba,may we be together in the next one too”

“Don't worry I'll live long” He said locking his lips with yours into a kiss.

#zzz harumasa #harumasa x reader #asaba harumasa #harumasa asaba x reader #zenless zone zero #zenless zone zero x reader #zzz x reader #zzzero

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princecharmingwinks · 5 days ago

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Sterek Fic Rec - 2024

Guess who's backkkkk??? Ok so I know that I am late but only by like 4 days? So not too bad. Anyway! Welcome to Prince's 2024 Fic Rec List! I am now aiming to do a list every year (and more if we are lucky but let's not promise that hehe). As always here are my top 10 fics I read and a special bonus mention !

Perfect Star That Hid by thebigoblin (1/1 | 1K | Teen)

He turns his hand— It’s not bare, anymore. His wrist — it has a name. His soulmate’s name. He stares. And stares and stares because what the hell. This has to be a joke, right?

Last Christmas (I gave you my heart) by jadore_hale (1/1 | 4K | Teen)

“W-what is this?” Derek couldn’t even begin to get his mind around this current situation. “My Christmas gift to you, nephew.” Peter pushed the guy towards him, and Derek hastened to catch him before he fell face first on the floor. “I’d like you to meet your soul mate.” *** Derek's uncle Peter decides to get a little more creative this Christmas by finding Derek's soulmate and stuffing him in a box with a pretty bow on top.

Stiles Stilinski, Magical PI by suzvoy (1/1 | 21K | Mature)

Stiles is a Private Investigator, only not really. He's also magical, but only close up. One thing he's really good at is lusting over people from afar, which is why it's a problem when Laura Hale hires him to help her brother.

Wanted and Wounded by RoxyRosee (3/3 | 12K | Explicit)

Derek can't seem to get off. It's been days with no luck, and he's constantly on edge. But then pack night rolls around, and when Stiles falls into him as he goes to sit down on the couch, Derek is suddenly coming, right where he sits. Turns out, Stiles is his mate. And among a whole slew of embarrassing side effects to this whole "mate" thing is the fact that Derek will never again be able to have an orgasm without Stiles by his side. So yeah, Derek's life kind of sucks right now.

Welcome to the Jingle by Jmeelee (1/1 | 1K | Mature)

Derek could admit—only to himself, of course, never out loud—that he was a little desperate to make new holiday traditions with his (officially all adults now thank god) pack. But his ideas had run more along the lines of a cozy take-out dinner at his new apartment, an ugly sweater or white elephant party, or maybe volunteering at the local soup kitchen. It had not involved spending Christmas Eve at Jungle.

Hey Dad, Derek Hale Is In My Room. Bring Your Gun. by fairytalesandfolklore (1/1 | 767 | Teen)

Being the Sheriff's kid is hard enough. Having a seemingly over-protective father who's more concerned about your bad influence than your ex-murder-suspect werewolf boyfriend is so much worse.

"The point is, I'm an adult," he amends, heaving a weary sigh as he attempts to salvage whatever is left of his dignity. "I can make my own decisions, and I choose Derek. He makes me happy. He's a good guy. He treats me well. He looks out for me, keeps me safe. He's responsible and respectful and a complete gentleman, and I really think that if you just got to know him a little better, you'd really—" The Sheriff holds up a hand, effectively cutting Stiles off mid-ramble. "I like Derek just fine," he says, and the smile that spreads across his face is warm and genuine. "You do?" Stiles falters, completely thrown. "Wait, so then why—" The Sheriff's fond smile turns to one of wry amusement. "It's you I don't trust, Stiles," he says around a hearty chuckle. "I've raised you for 18 years, I know exactly what kind of mischief you're capable of. Wouldn't want you dragging that nice, respectable boy into any trouble."

The Hoodie by PersePhonesDreams (1/1 | 1K | General)

Stiles didn’t mean to keep Derek’s hoodie—really, he didn’t. But the oversized, ridiculously soft thing quickly became his favorite comfort item, a piece of Derek he couldn’t quite let go of. It’s not like Derek would notice anyway... right? When Derek unexpectedly shows up at Stiles’ window one quiet night, Stiles’ not-so-secret attachment to the hoodie is exposed, leading to a conversation that changes everything. Cue awkward confessions, teasing smiles, and the realization that maybe Derek doesn’t mind Stiles keeping more than just his hoodie.

Over the Hedge(witch) by rororowyourboat (1/1 | 7K | Teen)

Derek moves into a new house with Laura and he is flustered by the hot gardener next door who is always just slightly dirty.

And When I Wake You're There I'm Saved by suchfun (1/1 | 14K | Teen)

"Derek," Stiles says, firm. His hand is warm on Derek's shoulder. "I'll be okay." "You didn't leave me," Derek argues. "How can you expect me to leave you?" Stiles rolls his eyes. "Oh my god, it'll be fine. Even if I am captured, I'm just a boring human. They wanted you for your Lycan blood." Derek crosses his arms. Mainly so he doesn't wrap his hands around Stiles' throat in an attempt to throttle some sense into him. "That's fine. But this isn't a time when being a boring human is an asset. This is a time when being a boring human results in a shot to the head." "Derek," Stiles says again. He steps closer, so Derek is surrounded in his scent, his chemosignals—namely unwavering, resolute determination, distinctively sharp and entirely unbreakable—clouding Derek's mind. "You'll come back for me." He sounds so sure, and he can tell the exact moment Derek gives in. Because Derek somehow always gives in to Stiles. "I'll come back for you," he confirms. "And you better not be dead." Stiles grins, eyes sparkling with far too much humour for someone who potentially just sacrificed himself for a surly Lycan and bunch of strangers. "You do say the sweetest things."

Remember What's Lost by AMatchInWater (1/1 | 7K | Explicit)

Wild Hunt AU, Stiles gets taken and Derek instantly knows something is wrong with his memory, but just doesn't know what until Lydia calls him, begging for his help to get Stiles back because she thinks they have the strongest connection. When Derek saves Stiles he stops at nothing to finally get what's his.

princecharmingwinks special mention (this fic has a heck of a lot of emotions and when Derek fell to his knees, my heart broke. you gotta read it to find out why! don't worry I will never read or rec unhappy endings)

Horizons into Battlegrounds by AClosedFicIsNeverRead (1/1 | 15K | Explicit)

Derek has always kept his distance from Stiles, refusing to act on his instinctive desire for the pale, doe-eyed human. But at what cost? When circumstances reveal the horrors that Stiles has suffered due to Derek's self-imposed distance, will the Alpha be able to make it right before it's too late? ______________________________________________________ “Who are you to the pack?” the hunter asked. “I’m nobody.” Stiles answered plainly. And a harsh chill ran through Derek’s body. His breath caught in his throat because… because Stiles’ heart… it had remained steady. Stiles… actually believed that. Believed that he was ‘nobody.’ How could Stiles believe that?

That is all for 2024 my friends! Please remember to give kudos and leave comments for all our amazing Sterek writers. I know I'd be lost without you all. Thank you!

#sterek #sterek fanfiction #fic rec #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #princecharminglists

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awordsmith · 1 month ago

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fingertips 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which you and Spencer constantly have had accidental moments over the years that always meant more to one than the other thought.

katcember

who? spencer reid x bau!reader when? s7 category: fluff content warnings: proofed! reader kidnapping, mentions of torture, constant flashbacks, yes sarcastic sarcasm is intentional, hidden feelings, tension, no smut (I'm working my way up to that one), reid with warmth word count: 9k a/n: ahhhhh, i just created a community radio (it can be found on my masterlist or pinned page) so feel free to send in song requests to be added! enjoy!

Your breath coated the window of the coffee shop, fogging it. You wiped it with your sleeve, waiting for Spencer to get back from ordering your drinks. The dim yellow light lit up the shop with a soft, mild glow; it was late, most sane people would be at home by now.

The bustling in the background caught your attention and your gaze caught on Spencer, still standing in line. He'd asked you to meet him here a few days ago, when you were working on your last case before your small–unavoidable–break. It was Christmas Eve. It was Christmas Eve and he had asked you to meet him days prior. He had every second to cancel, to change the date... Sitting here now, you knew–without a doubt–you were about to have a conversation long over due.

It made you think about how it all had gotten started, all your firsts, and when you knew you'd always love him more than a friend should. From your fist meeting to the feeling that someday it would hurt, because you could never let him go.

The first time we met, you thought, a calm smile settling over your face.

"And this, is Dr. Spencer Reid." Jason Gideon, your new boss introduced.

You nodded, a tight smile on your face, to say that you were nervous would be an understatement. Almost robotically, you shoved your hand forward, "it's nice to meet you–Doctor" you added quickly to the end.

An awkward expression came over his face as he stared at your hand, "oh, uh, he has a problem with physical contact." Dereck Morgan, your new team member, snorted.

Your eyebrows scrunched as you glanced at Morgan, your eyes swiftly turned back on Dr. Reid with a question lying just beneath the surface. He raised a single eyebrow back–though if it were on purpose you didn't know.

"You know," he said after a moment, after Gideon had walked away, up into his secluded office that you've only been in a few times. "It's actually safer to kiss."

Your eyes widened and Morgan snorted another, louder laugh, clapping his hands in the process. Dr. Reid's face had taken on a bit of mortification.

"I–of course I was just–I mean–I was saying that as–a fact–not that–"

"Just stop while you ahead, pretty boy." Morgan's contented sigh came to rest and he stood up. Dr. Reid still looked rigid, though, and you felt a little bad. Where you were nervous, he seemed just as awkward.

Morgan patted the poor doctor on the back and walked away, toward the staff room, it seemed. You both watched as he walked, a pep in his step, for a lack of better words. When Spencer turned back to you, fear written in his creases of his features, you offered a pleasant smile, "don't worry about it," he seemed to relax at that, which is why you couldn't help adding, "pretty boy."

His head jerked back toward you and you bursted into laughter, already feeling the tension and stress in the back of your head decrease a sizable amount. Thank you, Dr. Reid. You thought as you stared back at him, kind and gentle eyes, once again making him relax. He didn't know why he all of a sudden felt easier, but he did, and for the first time in his life, he didn't want to question something.

Music pulled you from your thoughts, the old jukebox in the back corner of the shop had began playing. An old man was now making his way back to a woman, whom you assumed was his wife. They looked cute, happy, and whole.

Your heart swelled, would you be able to have that kind of love one day? Would someone be able to talk about you as fondly as old men spoke of their first loves? Spencer called your name from across the shop, "you just want the coffee? Nothing else?"

You smiled warmly, though, a bit nervous, "no, no I'm fine." He nodded and typed something into his phone, which you had forced him to upgrade a few years back, you haven't been able to get him to upgrade since, but maybe, just maybe if he received a gift from Santa...

The old couple caught your attention, they were standing, and you watched as they–ever so slowly–took to the emptied space in the middle of the shop. Butterflies shot through your chest, and you felt like you might be sick–it was so cute.

It reminded you of–you turned back to Spencer, your cheeks reddening not just form the frostbite that had accompanied you when you'd first arrived.

That night...

You've been with the team a year, and tonight is the first night you've ever stayed at the office. You were tired and you wanted to go home, but you had to get this paperwork done and you did not want to be working a few feet away from your bed, where the promise of warmth and sleep–deep, deep sleep–awaited.

Thankfully, though, you weren't alone. Both Hotch and Reid had work to do too. Which wasn't odd for Hotch, but Reid, well, he normally went home, like the rest of you. Gideon sure went home right after, which still made you pause, he seemed to love his office so you wondered what his house had that his office didn't.

"You're staying late right?" Reid's voice carried through the empty bullpen as he rounded your desk and sat in Elle's desk chair.

"Yep," you nodded, pushing your hair out of your face. "Hey," you tilted your head toward him, "you wouldn't happen to have a hair tie, would you?" He grimaced and you chuckled, "thought so."

Sighing, you stood and walked the few paces to Elle's desk, leaning over the side of it, rummaging around. Spencer tensed, watching you closely. The single light that still loomed over the room traced the angle of your face. He caught his breath hitch when you pulled back and tilted your head upward, tying your hair back.

You brushed any remaining strands out of your face and tucked them behind your ears. "What?" Your face lit up in happy confusion.

"No–" he cleared his throat, "nothing."

You nodded complacently, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth, "really?" You leaned in, pushing your face as close to his as he would allow. You held onto Elle's chair and desk with your hands to keep yourself balanced.

His eyes averted from yours to the floor multiple times and he cleared his throat again. You were only messing with him, his reactions were always worth it though, Penelope and Dereck had taught their new child well.

Reid contemplated what to do for a moment, he knew you were teasing him, you did this sometimes when you two were alone, it always started the same–where he'd get flustered over something dumb and you'd take the opportunity to make fun of him for it. He knew you were doing it out of endearment, so he normally didn't mind, but–he couldn't get that image of you, your exposed neck in the almost completely dark room, out of his head, so keenly unaware of the dangers that could be lurking.

Reid sighed, latching his right hand onto your right wrist and yanking it back. You stumbled slightly, Reid had never used his strength on you before–you'd always thought it was because...well, he had none (but that's beside the point!). He certainly seemed to have it now, did he grow these overnight? You thought, taken aback, though your attention was pulled to his–avidly aware of the closeness between your bodies.

His eyes traced yours, looking for...you didn't know what, but it was something alright. You swallowed and couldn't help laughing nervously, the grip he had on your wrist was strong but careful, you had no doubt if you tried pulling back, he'd let go immediately.

You didn't, for a while. His touch was a sensation you had never felt before. You'd brushed fingertips multiple times, but this–this felt like the Darcy hand scene in Pride and Prejudice–the place where his skin met your burned all around. Not just physically in your hand, it burned in your chest, in your throat, and your head was probably steaming too.

Were it not for Hotch coming out of his office at the exact moment he did–you shook your head, no, that was a completely unprofessional thought.

"You two are still here?" Hotch asked taking–and almost falling–down the stairs.

You and Reid turned away to contain your giggles, which was only harder once Hotch said, "That was a smart move on both your parts. I'm going home early–" The three of you paused, allowing the silent end of that sentence to simmer. Early for Hotch. "In any case," Hotch cleared his throat, "don't stay too late: long day tomorrow."

"Yep," Reid's voice was clipped, but you said nothing at all, opting for a silent nod instead. Hotch left the bullpen and when you heard the elevator ding, you spun around and headed back to your seat. Spencer stayed at Elle's, which strained your focus, anytime he leaned back or stretched, your eyes would wander over to him.

It irked you for an entire thirty minutes, which is when you had enough and yanked out your headphones. Light music helped you focus–it cleared the other surrounding noise from your ears and kept your thoughts from sidetracking too often. In this case, it should've been perfect, and it was, for a time–until you were just about done with your work and they died.

You huffed a loud sigh, pulling them off your head and throwing them across your desk. Spencer raised a brow and turned to you, he'd been watching you carefully from the corner of his eyes. Every time you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, he'd thought you were glancing at him, but then you'd pulled out your headphones and he was sure he had been daydreaming.

"What's wrong?" He heard himself ask, surprised to feel a tingle throughout his body–was he... excited he had something to talk to you about?

"My headphones–" you motioned toward your useless item now laid strewn on your desk, "just died."

"Oh," was the first thing to pop into his head, and apparently he didn't have enough control over his motor mouth because he said it out loud too. You glared at him slightly before deflating against your chair.

"And I just got to the last wha–hun!" You whined, smacking your hands to your face. Spencer wouldn't admit it at that moment, but your tiny tantrum brought an equally tiny smile to his face; he found you incredibly endearing.

"You know," he spoke up softly, getting you to pull your hands away slightly to watch him, "...you could always play your music on your computer."

Your eyes lit up, "really?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, waving his hand around, "there's no one here."

"You're here." You stated.

He gave you one of his "come on now" looks. A few guys tried giving you that face, thinking it was cute, but it always made you cringe–the fact was, though, it was cute on Spencer, and you fell for it every time.

"Okay, fine, but you better not be mean. My taste in music is superior, anyway." He chuckled, sliding out of Elle's chair, and taking two long strides to your desk.

"Alright, let's hear it then." To his surprise, the notes that rang through your computer's speaker were not ones that he was prepared for. "This is Tchaikovski."

You nodded, "I prefer the André Rieu's version, honestly, but the playlist is on shuffle.

He nodded thoughtfully, "Yeah, I can see that."

"Huh?" You raised a brow, standing and stretching, "what's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, but a cheeky grin attached itself to the corner of his lips, "You just...seem like you would."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the urge to ask more, "Are you done?"

He twisted his body to glance over at the desk that was not his–but was the one closest to you. "Yeah, just finished." Actually, he had finished ten minutes ago, but he didn't want to leave you alone. Well, I can't just leave her, he'd rationalized, it wouldn't be right. So he sat there, shifting his documents until you'd thrown your headphones off.

"Okay, I just have this page left, wait for me?"

He hid his smile by looking down, stuffing his hands in his pockets, "Yeah, sure." You were done fifteen minutes later, Spencer caught you stacking your papers and shoving them in your drawer, "all done?"

"Yep," you stood and stretched, pulling your arm over your head. You yawned and turned to him as he approached you again, his steps hidden by the music that was now fading in. Your head turned and a smile tugged at your lips, "It's Rieu."

He focussed his attention on the morodo, listening, "Oh, yeah, it does have the nostalgic familiarity." You raised a brow, but he shook his head.

"Do you ever close your eyes and picture yourself dancing?" You asked, letting your eyes flutter shut as your body swayed a little.

Spencer was about to say no when a thought formed in his head, he didn't like the term "idea" or "plan" because that wasn't what it really was. It was more of an urge and it really did just...pop into his head, "Do you want to dance?"

Your eyes shot open, an enticingly daring expression flooding your face. "You dance?"

He shrugged, but a smile he couldn't control was again tugging at his mouth, "I'm a quick learner."

You nodded, though you thought it, you didn't say you weren't much of a dancer yourself–you didn't count the concerts on your bed or in the middle of your room because you mostly shook your head back and forth, no choreography detectable.

You took charge because although you didn't know much about popular dancing, you knew some ballroom...well, what you'd seen on TV and had tried copying in your living room.

"Put this on the back of my shoulder," you tapped one of his hands, mimicking the action with the arm. The crescendo was building, so you took his free hand in yours and moved back, "one," you said, "two," another step, "three."

A few seconds later it seemed he was now the one teaching you. He even attempted spinning you, which you had not attempted nor planned out before. You almost spun right into a wall, but thankfully, Reid yanked you back to him in time and you fell against his chest instead.

"Maybe," you whispered, out of breath, hearing the song fade out, "we should stick to catching criminals."

"Yeah," he dropped your arms and leaned a hand on the nearby stair railing while you bent to your knees, "maybe we should."

You huffed a laugh, "Oh you look horrid."

He snorted, "Not much more can be said for you."

"Okay, yeah, whatever, help me clean up."

"No," he whined, throwing his head back against his arm, still holding the railing of the stairs, but one warning glance sent him dashing after you.

"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer's eyebrows scrunched together as he took the seat across from you.

You shook your head, sighing softly, "No," your eyes flickered back to the old couple, then meeting Spencer's once more after a brief moment, "you order?"

"Yep," he nodded, his earlier Rudolph nose now down to a slight tint of pink.

"What do you think the other's are doing right now?" You turned toward the window next to you, desperate to draw this out. Your nerves were all too clear, it felt like you were dying–slowly–with the way your mind was floating through these memories so clearly.

"I don't know," he shrugged, "but to be perfectly honest, I'm not worried about them right now."

You nodded, gulping, how to distract him? How to steer him away from the inevitable conversation, you weren't even sure why he'd wanted to meet you tonight, it was nothing special, yeah, sure, it was Christmas Eve, but the date didn't signify anything for you two.

"Hey," you said, finding yourself coming up with another memory, "do you remember when we had that team dinner, but everyone bailed?"

"Everyone except us," he snorted.

"Yeah, what was that all about?"

His eyebrows scrunched together, "what do you mean?"

It was the first time you'd been out of the office with Spencer alone–that wasn't work-related...kind of. "Well, they never really told us why any of them bailed, don't you remember, aren't you curious?"

Her chuckled, "I mean no? It was what four–five years ago?"

"Yeah, but...

The night was almost as annoying as it was cold, the team had cancelled–everyone had something to do and not one person deemed you worthy enough to know what it was, but you had been looking forward to this dinner for the past month. You were not about to let it slip through your fingers.

You had never been to a fancy restaurant and the reservation was still made, it wasn't as if Rossi would have thought to cancel it and you planned to add everything to his tab anyway. (It wasn't stealing if he had offered to pay before.)

The hostess led you to a large round table with multiple seats you were expecting to be empty–but to your surprise, there was someone there, "Reid?" You called, confusion written across your face.

He turned, his face brighting, "oh, hey, where's everyone else?"

You tilted your head, sitting in the seat beside him, "didn't you get the text?"

"I don't have a phone," he shifted his body to face yours, "well, I do...but Penelope called it an abomination so I just don't use it."

You raised a brow, "what about email?"

He shook his head–you pressed your mouth together and patted him on the back, "It'll be okay."

"What?" His eyebrows shot up.

"I have to go to the bathroom, tell the waiter to bring out the menus, pretty please."

When you returned, you found Reid had followed your instructions and was now leaning over a small rectangular board. "Oh, you're ba–"

He paused, his eyes trailing over your body, "jeez, Reid, take a picture."

"Sorry," he cleared his throat, scooting out of the table a bit so as to follow you with his eyes as you rounded the table and sat back down, "I guess I just didn't notice before–you look beautiful tonight."

"Wow, thanks," you replied with sarcastic sarcasm, laughing when he began sputtering out an explanation.

He stopped and watched you with awe, it was as if he thought you'd never stop laughing like you were, but only if he was quiet enough. You stopped eventually–of course you did, it wasn't as if he really did think you wouldn't.

"What's that look for?" Your laughter ceases and a calm smile comes to rest on your face as you angle your head upward.

"Hmm?" His face scrunched up but he couldn't help smiling at being caught, "I don't know what you're talking about," his voice went high and he turned his head toward the lights above you, his smile ever present.

"Oh," you grinned, smacking his arm right when the waiter came and asked for your orders.

The rest of that night you spent with him, joking, laughing–ignoring the world around you. He walked you out to your car, which is when you found yourself not wanting to get in–to leave–just yet.

Instead of dragging out the conversation, however, you sighed and went silent for a moment–it was late, he must be tired–before thinking too much about it, you grabbed his wrist, and in the quiet, lamplit car park of the fancy restaurant, said, "thank you, Reid, for being you."

He chuckled and shrugged and right then and there–you had a wisp of a precarious thought that left you as soon as it appeared, "I don't know how to be anyone else."

"I know," you sighed, knowing it was probably time to get in your car and head home, but something–some unseen force–was holding you back, "that's what I like about you."

You both paused. You didn't say love. Normal friends would have said love, but you didn't, you said like; normal friends dislike each other, siblings dislike each other–lovers...lovers, don't hate each other, or do they? "Thank you." He tilted his head down to hide the shy smile that overpowered the rest of his facial features.

Okay, maybe you'd been thinking about it too hard–wait since when did you overthink things? And about Reid?

"You know," he murmured," pulling your eyes back onto his, he looked up at you through those long eyelashes Penelope always threatened to steal, head still turned down slightly, "you should call me Spencer."

"Huh?" Your cheeks burned, you could feel them heating up in real-time and you were hoping he didn't take notice of the way you shifted in your stance.

"Well, it's just–I mean I use your first name, and you're only a year younger, so–I mean it's normal for everyone else, but–I don't know–never mind."

He turned, embarrassment taking over, "Spencer." You called, eager to throw him off guard. But when he faced you again you stopped breathing, that would be the only explanation for the lack of oxygen in your body. The only logical explanation, anyway.

"I'll see you Monday."

"Yeah, uh–hu-h," you sputtered like an idiot, watching your coworker disappear between the cars.

"...but what?" He pushed his head toward yours, "You went somewhere just now, where did you go?" You couldn't very well tell him you were sifting through the memory archive of your relationship with him–not when you were trying to steer the conversation away from it–well, for as long as you could.

"I...don't," you shook your head, closed your eyes, and sighed with a smile, "sorry, I'm just a little out of it tonight."

He frowned, "anything you want to talk about?'

You pressed your lips together, "Nope."

He nodded, and slipped off his scarf, setting it on the table. He turned his head from side to side, massaging the tension between the muscles. Your brain shifted and then you weren't seeing Spencer massaging his neck, you were seeing yourself–that first night in his apartment, the very first time you'd slept over.

A shiver ran down your spine as you recalled the events leading up to the mentioned massage.

"Thanks again for letting me crash at your place," you sighed contently.

"No problem," Spencer chirped, opening his door. "How did you lose your keys again?"

"Ugh," you ran a hand over your face, "I don't know, they must have fallen somewhere." You groaned, "I'll have to get the locks changed–jeez–my landlord is gonna have a cow."

His chuckle turned into a sigh, "well, you can stay here as long as you need."

"Oh," you turned, "by chance, do you mind if I borrow a few clothes as well? It'll just be for tonight, I can buy something in the morning."

He pressed his lips together, giving you a small nod, "whatever you need."

"Thanks, Spence," you gushed, yanking him into a tight hug, "ugh, what would I do without my pretty boy?"

"Okay, okay," he pushed you away, "you–do know I'm older, right?"

"By a year," you rolled your eyes.

"Just making sure," he concluded, flipping on the light and heading into the kitchen as you stopped to look around. It was clean and a lot of the furniture looked old, especially the bookshelves, but it was definitely Spencer's. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?" He called.

"Do you have any frozen fruit?" You asked, stepping in front of one of the shelves and running a hand along a row of spines.

"Frozen fruit?–" he sounded confused at first, and then his sentence completely fell off, so you turned around, he was in the entryway to the kitchen, "see anything you like?"

You faced the shelf once more, "they're all Econ and Mathematics," you said, almost indifferently, "got anything romantic?"

He smiled, "those treasures are hidden in my room."

"Why yes, Spencer, I would gladly take your room for the night, I'm so glad you asked." Your smile widened as you spoke, placing a hand to your heart, "What," a shake of your head, "a," shake, "gentleman."

His mouth hung agape, but it looked as if he was trying to hide a smile, "you're unbelievable."

"Don't hate the player, Spencer," you spun around and headed for the kitchen, "hate the game."

He scoffed, his frown hanging on for dear life so as not to disappear, but it was losing its grip–quickly.

Spencer let you get in the shower first, but when you got in, you had to stand there, contemplating just how exactly you would tease him for having only shampoo and a bar of soap. A. Bar. Of. Soap.

"There's not even conditioner," you threw your head back, groaning.

A knock came from the other side of the closed bathroom door, "you okay in there?"

"Yep," you shouted, "just..." another sigh, "...peachy..."

Ten minutes later you were stepping out, grabbing the towel Spencer had lent you, it was his spare. You should have grabbed the clothing you wanted to wear before, but a hot shower after a day of dead girls–yeah, you needed the shower.

You heard Spencer moving around in the kitchen, making alfredo with cilantro and broccoli–oh you could already taste the pasta on your tongue, its smell wafted toward your nose and your mouth watered. You hurried to his room, deciding to lotion your body after you were dressed.

You pulled on the bra you'd been wearing before and rummaged through Spencer's drawer's for a t-shirt. Of course, he only had two, the rest were socks.

Frowning, you headed for his closet to see if you could find something better, thankfully, you found rows of white collared shirts, and in pulling one over your head, you grinned at the thought of seeing his face crumble, so maybe you were a bit of a sadist when it came to him–it was only all fun, really. If it meant that much to him, you'd just buy him another tomorrow.

You were about to walk out when you realized you were pant-less. You thought about reusing your underwear, but that would just be gross, so, you would have to go commando.

But... you still needed pants. After a while you sat on his bed in silence, frowning at the disappointment of not finding anything comfortable, then–just like a lightbulb, it occurred to you he might have sweats hidden somewhere.

You began pulling open the rest of the drawers when another knock–this time on his door–came. "Are you decent?" His question muffled by the door.

"I'm about to be," you replied, standing with your prize. You shoved your legs into them, the length dragging past your feet, you had to manually knot them with the strings to keep them up, and even then it was still falling. You sighed, pulling the linen shirt over the pants. "Alright," you brushed your hair down, "come in."

His eyes caught the shirt you wore, then they dipped toward the grey sweats; he smiled, tilting his head as he let his eyes track back up toward your face, "new style?"

"Oh shut up," you glared, feeling a similar smile come over you, as you shoulder-checked him out of the room. "Is the pasta done?"

"Almost," he nodded, "hungry?"

"No, I'm perfectly full," you rolled your eyes.

His laugh sent a tingling sensation through your body and your stomach dipped, "I'm gonna get in the shower, okay? Feel free to finish cooking."

"Aye-aye captain," you saluted him, turned, and marched toward the kitchen.

Spencer stood there for a moment, he's known you for about three years now, and yet he still couldn't figure out what this was, what you were–to him... He was considered a genius by normal standards, but around you, he felt his whole world shrink until it was only big enough to hold a young woman, and then he wasn't such a genius.

He often grumbled idioms to himself whenever he found he was losing his shit–which is how he stepped into his shower tonight, uttering idioms under his breath, all while knowing they were pointless.

Rossi had taught Spencer how to cook–not just cook, but cook. He'd only been with the team a year, but he was quickly sliding into a nice rhythm with everyone and you thought he might even be helping Spencer in the way only Gideon used to...maybe.

You loved that zio.

Spencer was right, the pasta was almost done. Which meant you could start grabbing plates, "...left cabinet near the sink..." you mumbled to yourself, trying to remember where Spencer said he kept dishes.

"Hey, all done?" Spencer walked into the kitchen wearing sweatpants and an MIT sweatshirt.

Your smile dropped, "you were hiding that weren't you?"

"How could I?" He raised his brows, leaning his back against the counter in front of you. You had just turned off the iron holding the pot boiling the noodles, and now you turned around to mix the sauce, ordering, "poor the water out please."

He moved swiftly, careful to only hold the handles. You watched him from the corner of your eyes, though you couldn't see them with the sweatshirt he was wearing, the ease in which he tilted the large pot told you those muscles you'd noticed during your first overnight at the office with him, were still there, and possibly even growing.

You turned away and cleared your throat when he set the pot back down, "alright grab the plates."

He smiled, and it was almost like you were dancing with the way you spun to let him pass. He laughed and you couldn't help but smile, this was nice–this was fun.

After dinner, Spencer began cleaning the dishes and you began cleaning the table, when you finished before him, you hip-bumped him and said, "I got this, go find a movie we can watch–preferably horror."

He sighed, shaking his head, "yes Hotch."

You your jaw dropped, but he could see your smile through it, "you did not."

He laughed and it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard. It warmed your chest and for a second you felt lightheaded; dizzy.

Upon finishing the dishes, you found Spencer strewn across his couch, head leaning forward as he rubbed the back of his neck. The paused movie on the tv screen was parallel his long couch, waiting for you.

"It hurt?" You took slow steps toward him.

He jerked as if he hadn't known you were there until you'd said something. "Not really," he turned back toward the screen, "ready?"

You don't really know what it was that made you keep on your journey toward him, probably that unseen force from before. "Let me see."

He tensed when the buds of your fingertips prodded up and down his warm neck. Logically it was probably from the coldness, but you hesitated, almost pulling back for fear of making him uncomfortable.

"Sorry–"

"No, I–" he grabbed your wrist, holding it down on his neck, "it's fine...please?" It was so small, so quiet, so overwhelming in that space between you and him, and that question–that word–...it shrunk it even smaller.

"Yeah, okay," you spoke quietly, fearing if it were any louder the moment would turn to ruins.

You pulled away, breathing on your hands so they wouldn't feel so cold, then, you moved in, working the tenses muscles first, just like your dad had taught you. For a second you recalled the child labor he put you through during your childhood, nose scrunching at how he started giving you half a dollar every foot massage after you'd brought it up.

Spencer's groan yanked you to the present instantly, you smiled, "I'm no chiropractor, but I'm not completely clueless."

Spencer's snort earned him a smack on the shoulder, leading to you both laughing. A few passable seconds and you were now at the base of his neck, where his shoulders formed the arch. You were so focused on your work–a vein must've popped out–when Spencer turned his face and suddenly you had that loss of breath sensation again. Your mouth went dry and–unwillingly–your eyes ran over his lips, but when you blinked you forced them up again.

"Thank you," a boom in your chest, and you fell backward, onto your butt, your legs sprawled, but your knees somehow still tucked beneath you, Spencer of course was worried, jumping up immediately, and asking if you were alright.

The thing was, though, you weren't. Not in the mental sense, because your mind had spent years trying to figure out just what all the moments and feelings over the years meant. And yet, you couldn't put it into words until now.

You were absolutely, positively, irrevocably in love with him. Your coworker, possibly your best friend–and–and–how could you not know until now? You've had your fair share of crushes, you've had boyfriends, even, but have you ever been in love? No–this was a first. And–and you just couldn't grapple with what that meant. If it even meant anything at all.

You offered him a kind smile, "Yeah, sorry, I must have just...lost balance."

He looked at you for a moment, nodding, "If you say so, here, let me help you up."

You sighed, realizing you were still on your knees–get up girl, you're not freaking praying–

"Thank you," you murmured.

"You don't have to thank me," he replied cooly.

Your brows furrowed, "what?"

"I said you don't have to thank me," he led you to the couch, "I have free will, I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to, so, you don't have to thank me."

He held your eyes and for only a timid instant, you thought it may have been a confession, but no–there was no way. You nodded, "All right, then–the same goes for me."

After a tic, he nodded, "Right."

You blinked and suddenly you were in the coffee shop again, but Spencer wasn't in front of you. You nearly jumped up shouting his name before you noticed he was walking over to grab your drinks. That was odd, had they called it out? Why hadn't you noticed?

Your eyes tracked his movements when he reached out to grab your cups, his forearms hidden beneath the nerdy plaid sweater, one of many–you knew–were in his closet.

You smiled at your joke, recalling the first Christmas you'd spent with him–well, okay it was with the team and it wasn't on Christmas day, and yeah, it was for Secret Santa, but it was the first time you had pulled his name since joining the BAU and becoming part of their little but many traditions.

He spun around and started walking toward you, and you couldn't help thinking his eyes had that same glint that they did when he'd opened your gift.

You had tried to make it as uncommon and unexpected as possible, but still as about him in some way. His reaction...you felt sickly sweet thinking about it; like you might throw up. And the gift he'd given you–because he'd pulled your name from the bowl for the first time that year as well–you could feel your heart grow ten sizes...

The lights around the bullpen were dimmed so as to appreciate the blue weather outside. There was only one window, but Penelope brought a few candles so as to capture the very essence of the winter spectacle.

When you had retrieved Spencer's name from the bowl a week ago, you'd being thrumming with both excitement and nervousness, you'd gotten Gideon the first year, which scared you to absolute bits, but Hotch helped you...somewhat. Then Elle left and Emily joined the team, and you'd gotten her, last year it had been Penelope. This year, well–you just had to go all out.

You had felt it a few months ago, in his apartment, you'd even admitted it to yourself, but you couldn't tell him, nor could you let anyone else know. This was your secret, yours and yours alone.

You'd spent hours searching stores, but nothing seemed to fit, there were so many people out doing their annual gift shopping and it just all seemed too crowded to brave the storm of people again.

It was last Wednesday when you stumbled across the gem of a store, well, it wasn't much to the normal person, but as they say, 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder'–and though he hadn't been there, you knew the shop would have driven him mad with happiness.

Upon entering, multiple little trinkets had caught your eye, but you'd wanted to filter around for a bit, and you did just that until you came across a teddy bear wearing a plaid vest. Now, you didn't know if it had been fate, but the teddy bear was holding a small chess piece, the queen. You recalled Gideon constantly beating Spencer at chess when you first joined the team, and how Spencer had been humbled with each loss.

You now watched with anticipation as Spencer shook the gift in his hand, it was light and cheap, and a little old, but you were sure he'd love it, after all, what was all that ancient woodwork in his apartment? He grinned, clearly just as excited to open the gift as you were. "What is it?" Emily asked, glancing at you.

"Tell him to open it," you motioned toward him with a hand.

"Open it Reid," she turned toward him, the other's murmuring similar comments.

And he did. His eyes widening when they pulled out the small, plaid-vested teddy bear. "Is–is that a stuffed animal?" Morgan questioned, jumping when Penelope smacked him on the arm.

"It's holding a chess piece," Spencer ran his fingers along the tiny queen. His eyes caught yours in a manner that had you planted to the floor, you tried swallowing, but your throat was dry, you felt as if he were trying to communicate with you through his eyes. Like he was saying, "thank you," only that was too small, it was deeper than that and yet as simple as a smile. Your heart thudded and you had to turn away because if he saw you. He'd know.

You had no doubt. Not a single sliver of it–he'd know in an instant, and well, you don't know how he'd react, and you loved how things were now, so you turned away, not from your feelings, but from the damage that might ensue, should he find out. "Mmhmm," you rocked back and forth on your feet.

"Alright, who's next?" Rossi called, "Reid, who'd you get?"

His eyes flashed to yours as he set the small bear down. "Actually," he pulled a finely wrapped square gift, it was the largest of the gifts this year and you hadn't a clue as to what it could be nor who had brought it in.

As he slid the firm gift into your hands, he said, "be gentle, it's fragile."

Now, you were undoubtedly curious. It was skinny but heavy enough, so you set it down and began clawing at the wrapping, gently, just like he had said. When it was unveiled, your words caught in your throat. You looked up to him, holding it in between you two.

His smile grew bashful and he rubbed the back of his neck, "I know you don't, but I have a record player, and you're welcome to come over and use it any time."

Your jaw hung open and it was only when Emily shared a look with the rest of the team that one of them finally said something–it was Rossi–"Are we missing something?"

Your smile hurt with the way it stretched across your face. "Thank you," you set the gift aside stepping forward to hug him, but then remembered the rest of the team around you, so you awkwardly tapped his chest, but he looked like he knew your intent and for that you were grateful.

He had gotten you an André Rieu's Swan Lake record. How could someone be so–so perfectly him? As the gift-giving went on, you leaned over and whispered, "Thank you," again.

He stepped closer toward you, leaning over subtly, "remember what we said?"

The low tone in his voice sent shivers running down your spine. "Right..." you gulped.

"But," he continued, walking around you, pulling your gaze back to the record, in prime condition, you had no idea how he did it because you were pretty sure Rieu's Swan Lake did not exist on records, and yet here it was, in the very palm of your hands.

"But?" You asked, brimming with butterflies.

You swear you felt yourself beginning to tremble with them before he said, "if you ever need a dance partner, I'm always available, and I might be open to a little 'please'."

You smacked him laughing, thinking he was about to say something serious. He covered his chuckles with a hand, placing his other on the desk to hold himself up.

You both paused when you realized the chattering around the room had stopped, and when you looked up, everyone was staring at you, even JJ had her brows raised, Hotch–he looked like a dad catching his daughter with a boy in her room for the first time.

Spencer cleared his throat and asked, "What did everyone bring for the potluck?" His voice, once again, squeaky and high.

You smiled at him, with a few years of practice you had stopped saying thank you to each other, it was in your eyes; it was like saying I love you: pointless if you both knew it already, so why waste breath on something that could be better used for anything else?

"It's hot, so be careful," he handed it to you and your fingertips burned at where you touched his hand.

"So," you said, "what did you want to talk about? Why did it have to be tonight?"

He smiled, and to your surprise, it didn't falter. Although, should you really be surprised? You knew you loved him. You have for years now. You've known he's loved you since he pulled you out of that damned basement, it was so clear, not in the way he had reached for you, not in the way he had yelled, sounding both terrified and relieved for the paramedics to "fucking do their job", not even in the way he cried out your name, face contorted in something so close to agony–no. Not in any of those ways–but in the way his eyes had pleaded with you.

The way they had been the only thing you'd remembered after waking up, the only thing you saw clearly when you'd fainted when the world had gone black for the first time, suddenly disappearing all at once–like you were dying, though you might have quite literally have been.

The light was dim, you didn't know how long you'd been here, or where here even was. It had to have been days–days without light, days without food, you'd barely sustained enough water to keep you from dehydrating.

You tried remembering how you got to this point. You were undercover–God how long ago was that? You wanted to cry but you refused to give in, to let him see you like this. It would turn him on, you remember that–at least. You couldn't–you just couldn't give him what he wanted, and for that, he kept you alive.

It was both a matter of survival and of stubbornness and until you gave it to him, he'd keep you ailing, he'd probably torture you in the days to come. Gosh–you were so incredibly weak, you didn't want to waste energy on trying to recall anything else.

But moments would come to you in bits and pieces. You had offered yourself to go undercover, you were his type–the unsub–you were the youngest on the team, but they trusted you and you trusted them to have your back. Most of all, you trusted Spencer, you knew he wouldn't let anything happen to you, and you knew he was probably looking for you right now, probably not sleeping, maybe even torturing himself for losing you.

How long had you known him? Four years? You had no doubt. None. He was looking for you, doing everything in his power to find you, to locate this son of a bastard who was keeping you prisoner for his sick, twisted needs.

"All you have to do," his voice would croak through the speaker he had set in the top corners of the room. You were pretty sure he had a monitor on you as well but tried to disregard that thought as you squinted through your hazy vision. "Is submit yourself to me."

"And then you'll let me go?" You would sometimes ask when you had enough energy, though it was always sarcastic and accompanied by a dry laugh.

The chains he'd linked you to had enough room for you to move around in your tiny prison cell, but you never did, you were normally too exhausted. He wanted to wear you down, this was his tactic, the one Hotch or someone–you couldn't really remember now–had concluded in the profile.

How long had it been? Time either moved too fast or too slow. "I've already told you I would." But it was a lie and you knew it. It was the game he played: get the unwilling participant to confess their secret, undying love for him, you had been messaging him for a few days under an alias before meeting up. That was supposed to have been it, you'd had him, but he wasn't guilty of anything until he tried something.

You were at a club, Emily was stationed on the floor, Spencer was sitting at the bar, Hotch and Morgan were acting as bodyguards at the entrances and exits, and Rossi had been somewhere on the second floor–that was all that had come back so far, everything else was still a mystery.

Regardless, you knew for a fact the unsub wouldn't let you go, he'd get you to confess and then he'd torture you depending on the way he felt that day, then eventually kill and dump you somewhere.

It was the confession, to him it was like a green light to do whatever he wanted, it was like the consent to kill you was hidden behind what he referred to as "the submission".

You stayed in the makeshift bed most days, only moving to keep bedsores from appearing. Despite the lack of physical torture–if you took out the starving and lack of vitamin D–the mental obstacles you went through just to keep yourself sane were another kind of torment.

It had only been a day later, but it felt like weeks of agonizing solitude before they found you. You were still in the clothes you wore to the club. You recalled the bright light, that was the first giveaway, you thought he might have had enough, but then you heard it, your name, your real name, falling from the lips of the only person who could say it like that.

"Spencer?" Your voice was raw, you'd eaten a slice of bread and an egg the day before, at least, you think it was that, you'd been given a single glass of water, which in your state couldn't drink without throwing up.

Spencer had been going insane–and fast. The team had never seen him so erratic before, not even his addiction had made him so lifeless, he wouldn't sleep, he was working nonstop and it got to a point where Morgan had to slip a sleeping pill into a cup of his coffee.

They hated forcing it on him, but it came from a place of love–they would never tell him and if he started showing signs again, they'd take responsibility and work with him, help him–but the kid needed rest, and he wasn't going to get it willingly.

When Garcia finally–finally–obtained an address, they wasted no time. Spencer–not giving a damn about a warrant–shouldered the door down, surprising Morgan and even Hotch, he needed to find you, he needed to. You weren't dead, he could feel it in his heart, you couldn't be. They hadn't found a body–and as long as they hadn't found a body you were safe. You had to be–you just–had to be.

Tears sprang in his eyes and fell down his cheek when he saw you. It'd been a week, they'd never–never–spent this long on a case before, you were a wreck, a pile of almost nothing. His heart broke at seeing you in such a way. He called your name, hoping you were still there, hoping you hadn't given in, that you hadn't gone through all the things he'd seen the other victims–God he couldn't even think of you in that way–you were so much more. So much more.

He'd been trying to fight the feelings, it wasn't appropriate and some part of him was sure you didn't even feel the same, but now–at a time like this–he didn't give a damn about what anybody else thought. Not of you or his feelings, if you hated him afterward then he could live with that. What he couldn't live with was seeing you fucking dead.

"Spencer?" You called and his expression broke free of the mask he'd been wearing up until now. He didn't want the other's to worry so he avoided crying in front of them, whenever he had that urge, he'd hide in the bathroom. But now–now?

He was ugly crying, a beak down if you will. His face came into your vision and his eyes, his bright, sad, glossy, warm brown eyes. It was like a hug, and then he was actually hugging you, your face buried in his chest, you could hear other voices but they were all drowned out by the silence that came over you and you could see nothing but Spencer's eyes. The way they looked as if you built the sky and added the stars just for him.

When you'd disappeared from the bar–he had been right next to you–right bloody next to you, and when he blinked you were just–gone.

You might forgive him, but he knew he would never forgive himself. You had given him everything, and he didn't know it until this very moment that he didn't care about being professional as much as he loved you, and he knew you knew, he didn't say it, but in the silence shared between you too you knew, and you didn't say thank you when he found you, because you knew he could see that in your eyes too.

It was unspoken, but in the silence–it was enough.

"Let's...walk," he stood suddenly.

"Wait, what?" Your eyebrows dipped in confusion, but you scrambled to follow him nonetheless. "Spencer, it's snowing!" You shivered right as you stepped outside.

"I know," he replied, walking down the sidewalk, stores were closed at this time of night, and the coffee shop was no doubt about to close as well, it was almost midnight, you were actually surprised they were still open, today of all days, but perhaps it was good for business.

"Then–why?"

He stopped and began heading toward the park around the corner. It didn't have a big playground, but it had a large field that normally filled with snow around this time of year. The kids were more drawn to it, naturally, though no kids were in sight upon reaching the destination he seemed to have planned.

You sat on the stairs of the small structure, snow blowing around you in the dark atmosphere, only alight by the stars and the park lamps.

The parking-lot had been desolate, not a single car in sight and you almost regretted not driving as you would now have to walk all the way back to the coffee shop, but Spencer, well, he could make anything worth the struggle.

"You know," he spun closing his eyes, coffee cup in hand as the mini blizzard coated him and his attire. He'd grabbed the scarf from his scarf from the table and wrapped it around his arm, now it was loose, the wind pulling at it slightly, "we should make a snowman."

"Now?" You questioned with a lift of your brow. "I mean, it's kind of late."

"So?" He set his cup down, raising a brow at you, "scared?"

You sighed, succumbing to his stupid challenge, "Fine, I give."

"You always do," he grinned, and something about that grin made you want to forgo everything and just kiss him, but you were the one to drag this out, so perhaps you should play along.

You'd been beating around the bush all night, the both of you; it was as if you were so comfortable with each other, so easy with your current relationship, that it was uncomfortable talking about a change.

So, you built the damn snowman. Spencer wrapped his scarf around it afterward, admiring his handy work, though it looked more like a bear with its oval mouth and no carrot nose. You rolled your eyes and snapped a photo of the snowman. "He looks just like his dad," you muttered.

A strange look came over Spencer's face just then, and you knew–you just knew: he was in love–but haven't you always known? He didn't say it because he didn't have to, it was all in his eyes. With the wind swirling around you–you heard your feet crunch in the snow as you stepped forward–and with the moon being your soul witness, you kissed him.

...

Or he kissed you, it was all a blur really: you kissed each other, adoring eyes meeting over and over again like a silent declaration, thank you and I love you.

All this time scared by a change, your fingertips had always burned with the knowing outcome.

a/n: any way to say ahhhhhhhh differently? i don't know, but thank you for reading, and be sure to check out the community radio (i'm actually so proud of it)

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #katcember #written by katherine #fluff #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #fingertips

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bucketbueckers · 15 days ago

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LAYUPS & LAYOVERS

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader wc: 2.9k content warnings: language, fluff, author is southern and doesn't understand how snow or marketing works, plot where there doesn’t need to be plot synopsis: It’s Christmas Eve and you’re in Connecticut, exhausted and just trying to get to Minnesota for a work conference. You could cry when it’s announced that all flights are being halted due to the incoming blizzard. Irritated, tired, and overworked, you pray for a miracle, although it takes an unnatural shape in the form of a six foot blonde athlete who’s just trying to make it home, too. Late night airport conversations lead to something more. notes: merry christmas eve from my delusions to yours! the last chapter of irp was super heavy so here's my apology and christmas gift (do i drop another one tmr...i really dont wanna write chapter 8 😩). i hope you all enjoy this short n sweet lil ramble i threw together and happy holidays 🫶

This can not be your life right now.

It’s actually kind of impressive how all of the stars aligned on this one particular night to fuck you over. You’re not a terrible person. You hold the doors for everyone, give up your seat on the bus for sweet old ladies, and you always allocate a portion of your paychecks to donate to Wikipedia. By all accounts, you should be overwhelmed with good karma, although it seems your luck has depleted on this night and this night alone.

It all started on the 20th when you flew out to Connecticut. You work a cushy job as a marketing consultant for the WNBA, which means you spend a lot of time in the air and across the country trying to unfuck – sorry, trying to optimize and rejuvenate – the state of the league and its teams. It’s a task easier said than done. Nobody seems to want to listen to you until they realize that your master’s degrees in marketing and business analytics actually mean something and aren’t just really expensive pieces of paper that you hang in your office. You spend a couple of days in Uncasville talking strategies to boost ticket sales and to gain more traction; they’re the only professional team the state has – it should not be hard to get people to show up if you can market it right, but here you are.

Connecticut is nearly a bust. It’s cold and you spend two full days in meetings getting talked over by men who think they understand numbers and branding. Then, on the third day, the front office suddenly realizes what you’ve been talking about (this shit was covered in your sophomore year intro to marketing class, but hey, the less people know, the more you get paid, so who’s really complaining?) and the trajectory of your trip makes a sudden turnaround. On the 23rd and early on the 24th, you help the Sun roll out the new optimizations, and what do you know? Ticket sales surge by 17%, including some season tickets, all is well in the world and it’s a goddamn Christmas miracle.

Then, all is suddenly not well and you remember that Christmas miracles are for people not surrounded by idiots. Your boss emails you just before you leave for the airport: The Lynx need your help. I’ve sent you tickets for the first flight out of Connecticut. Meet with them on the 26th. Said “flight” departs from Connecticut at 8:30pm on Christmas Eve, which means you’re not even in Minnesota until 12am if you’re lucky, which means you have to figure out hotel arrangements so you can take a nap because you’ve barely slept in five days, which means you have to figure out how to be nice to people again because the Sun front office has you pissed all the way the fuck off.

So, you’re tired, overworked, extremely irritated, and hungry, although that last problem is solved by airport Subway. You just hope that doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass, either – you firmly believed that you were better off betting all of your money on black rather than taking the chance on airport food, but you didn’t have much of a choice and your stomach was growling. You eat, settling in a chair at your gate, and patiently await for your plane to arrive.

Then, the overhead PA clicks on with some static noise, announcing, “Flight 932 to Minneapolis and all other flights exiting Hartford will be delayed due to inclement weather. I repeat–”

The blood rushes to your head. Your eye twitches. There’s a crying baby somewhere in the airport and you can’t take it anymore. Honestly, what’s stopping you? Flying a plane cannot be that difficult. You’re pretty persuasive. You can tell TSA you’re just young for a pilot and you’re not wearing a pilot’s uniform because it’s Christmas Eve and what are you, the feds? All you’re really asking for at this point is a nap but there’s no way in hell you’re making it to a hotel in these conditions and the chances of you sleeping in an airport with all of your belongings out for someone to grab are even lower.

A commotion towards the check in counter commands your attention. You turn, dreading the eventual crash out of an airport Karen, but it’s better than the crying baby who still hasn’t shut the fuck up.

“Please, there’s gotta be something else you can do,” a tall, broad-shouldered blonde is begging, her hair pulled into a loose ponytail. “It’s Christmas Eve, I have to get home.”

The lady at the check in counter sounds sympathetic when she responds. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but our hands are tied. We can’t send our planes out in this weather, but if it eases up, the next flight out should have you arriving in Minneapolis by tomorrow afternoon.”

You hear the blonde groan, her tone sounding something like, I can’t fucking believe this is my life, which is a sentiment you whole-heartedly agree with. “Can you please lemme know if there’s anything earlier?” she pleads. “Like, if by the grace of God this weather clears and we can leave sooner.”

“Of course, ma’am. All updates will be announced.”

The response is almost robotical, but you can tell the receptionist is trying her best, too, and the last place she wants to be is hanging out at the airport on Christmas Eve. The blonde sighs, thanking her, and from the corner of your eye, you watch her hike her bag up over her shoulder and she moves to sit directly in front of you. That’s when you truly get a good look at her, at the dejected blue of her eyes, the chisel of her jaw, the logo on her hoodie. Paige Bueckers is no stranger to you. You grew up watching ball, so obviously you’re familiar with her game – any self-respecting basketball fan is. But by virtue of your job, Paige Bueckers is a name that makes your marketing heart beat just a little faster. Ever since Dallas won the lottery, you’ve been all over their marketing team. Paige’s entire existence and the chance she gets drafted to Dallas is the sole reason the Wings’ tickets are flying off the shelves. She’s the most marketable college athlete there is right now, one of the top rookie prospects for the league, but one look at her face in person and you’re forgetting all about your job. Her jaw is tight with a simmering anger, and honestly, you feel terrible for her – she already spends so much time away from her family and here she is trying to get out of Bumfuck, Connecticut, so she can be home in time for Christmas.

You find a little bit of bravery when you raise your voice slightly to ask her, “No luck?”

She looks up, glancing at you and taking in your features, and laughing slightly when she realizes you’re genuinely just trying to make conversation and not trying to get a soundbite out of her. “You heard that?” she asks sheepishly, sinking a little in her seat to get comfortable. You pretend to not notice her manspread.

“Well,” you begin, glancing over at the receptionist. “The desk is like, ten feet away.” She laughs again and nods, murmuring touche under her breath. “932 Minneapolis?” you ask, referring to your flight.

Paige nods again, quirking a smile. “You stalking me or sum’?”

You shrug your shoulders, a coy smile on your face. “Just observant,” you quip.

Paige grins fully. “What about you?” she asks. “You work for the league?”

At that, you can’t help your surprise, raising a brow. “How’d you know that?”

“Just observant,” she throws your words back at you. You laugh. “Kidding. I see your ID pokin’ out of your bag. You from here, or they got you workin’ on the holidays?”

“Work,” you respond. Paige whistles lowly. “I’m a marketing consultant. Been up here for a few days working with the Sun, then I’m heading to Minnesota to fix the Lynx’s bullshit.” You blink, registering your words, blushing as Paige laughs. “You did not hear that. I’m usually nicer to my employers.”

“They got you workin’ and flyin’ out on Christmas Eve,” Paige points out. “You should be meaner.”

You incline your head in a nod, huffing. “All of this for office potlucks and dental coverage,” you joke. “Don’t quit basketball.” Paige grins again and you’re suddenly reminded of your manners. “Sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself.” You do as such, only mildly surprised when she stands to shake your hand and introduces herself, too, which is honestly kind of endearing. Then, she plops into the empty seat next to yours, smiling widely.

“So, marketing consultant,” she says, her tone nonchalant as she gets comfortable next to you, extending her long legs across her suitcase. “How often will I get to see you?”

You glance at her, raising a wry eyebrow. “Are you flirting with me?” you ask.

Paige shrugs a shoulder, smirking. “A little. Is it working?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit. You can see the pride that shines in her eyes. You roll your eyes in amusement, still in slight disbelief, but you redirect back to her question. “Honestly, probably a lot. The league is super messy from a business perspective and their actual marketing sphere isn’t that great, either. As soon as you get drafted I’ll probably have to fly down to whichever poverty team you land at and teach them how to market you.”

“Yeah?” she asks, and despite the tease in her tone, she does seem interested. “How would you market me?”

“How much time do you have?”

“Well…” Paige glances down to her watch, then out the windows where snow falls in heavy sheets. “Looks like a lot.”

You snicker. “Alright. Bear with me, okay?” Paige nods in earnest, her attention fully on you as you begin to ramble. Truthfully, you did like your job when you were able to do it. The issue is and always will be the idiots you have to work with who overlook your credentials. “So, I’m not thinking about your personal brand at all. Like, that one’s already incredible. Your PR team did their big one with you. But the issue with athletes like you, wide-eyed and fresh out of college with an insane resume of endorsements, followers, deals, whatever – the issue is that whatever team you get drafted to is gonna want to rebuild their entire image around you. Think Clark, Brink, Reese, Jackson, Cardoso. It’s textbook – you advertise the person who’s gonna get you the most clicks, the most sales. So, how can we use that to actually grow the game, the league? I’m talking about longevity. There’s so many people tuning in for you that don’t know shit about basketball, and honestly, they’re gonna be scared to ask questions.

“So we push something corny. Social media segments with a catchy name like Ball With Bueckers or some shit where you break down basketball plays, rules, the stuff you’re gonna see and hear when you watch a game. What’s a pick and roll? A screen? Why is she getting fouled for blocking that shot, isn’t that what she’s supposed to do? Education, interest, loyalty, and competition sells. Stories sell, too, which is why the league is still trying to push the Clark/Reese rivalry. That’s old news, though. A more compelling story would have been the Fever/Sun rivalry, especially after the Sun beat the Fever and the Fever hired their coach. Or Fever/Wings, for reasons I’m not gonna ruin your night with.” Paige laughs at that, and you smile, clearing your throat and trying to find your train of thought. “So, when I’m undoubtedly called in to fix your team’s mess, that’s what I’d be suggesting. People already love you. Using that connection to get them to love ball, too, is my goal.”

“You’re really passionate about this,” Paige comments, her lips quirking into a slight smile. You can’t help but preen a little, flushing. “Like, about basketball. You really care about the sport. Feels like that’s harder to find lately.”

“Well, I was too short to play it, so gotta settle for something, right?” you joke.

Paige looks you up and down. You’re wearing sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt from college, but her gaze is shameless, appreciative despite your casual airport wear. She chuckles, a disbelieving noise building in the back of her throat. “Nah. You’re what, 6’5?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Try a foot less. But I appreciate you for believing in me.”

Paige smiles, nudging you a little. “I was serious, though. You’re super passionate. I like that.”

“Still flirting?”

“S’not everyday you get snowed in at the airport with a pretty girl,” Paige says, her gaze warm, and you can’t help but blush again. “Gotta shoot my shot, you know?” She mimes throwing a ball, her wrist bent, and you shake your head fondly. Admittedly, she did have you – hook, line, and sinker. You enjoyed the conversation, her company. There were certainly worse people to be stuck with, but you’re glad it was with her.

You shrug your shoulders. “Shoot away,” you say. Her subsequent grin is wide and you find yourself drawn in just a little further.

She asks you virtually everything under the sun – where you grew up, where you went to college, the team you were rooting for, and you answer. You tell her you’re an Atlanta native, born and raised, although you moved up north to study at Columbia. You were 8 when the Dream was founded and that was your team, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. At 10, you watched them win the eastern conference finals on your birthday and that was easily the moment your life changed. Basketball was your future and that much was certain. She asks how you landed the league job (connections, a thick resume, and lots of persuading), how you adjusted to the constant traveling (lots of caffeine and really good concealer), and the hard-hitting question of, are you satisfied?

For that, you really had no answer. Sure, you’re always busy, and that’s better than the alternative of sitting in your office and watching the seconds tick by. You’re good at what you do and your job makes a positive impact on the league. Your colleagues will be who they are; your work speaks for itself and that’s what you pride yourself on. But there’s always going to be a small part of you that yearns for something more, like someone else to share your life with. Someone who sits, and listens, and engages with you; someone who loves basketball just as much as you do (even if it’s a different type of love), someone who’s steady and spontaneous and adaptable.

Then Paige is smiling at you, her gaze warm and soft despite the below freezing temperatures outside; she’s listening, and engaging, steady, spontaneous, adaptable, and probably the only person in the world whose love for basketball could rival your own. You’ve known Paige for all of three hours and it’s nearing midnight in an airport in Connecticut, but it’s Christmas Eve and she feels so right. You would really like to see where this goes, and judging by the way her fingertips brush your knuckles, you think she might like to see that, too.

The two of you talk all through the night, waiting for the weather to ease up. The conversation never slows and you’re certain you’ve never smiled or laughed this much in a long time. It takes you twelve hours of delirious conversation to realize that your luck never depleted. Paige was your overwhelming karma, sent by some sort of Christmas miracle to answer all of the wishes you’d kept to yourself for years. The stars aligned not to fuck you over, but to trap you in an airport with Paige Bueckers, and you find that she’s possibly the best Christmas gift you could have ever gotten.

When the weather finally clears and your plane arrives, you find that your seats are right next to each other – and, well, fate works in funny ways, doesn’t it? You’re both exhausted, but when she lowers the armrest and wraps her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into your side, you can’t help your relieved sigh, leaning into her chest. You and Paige sleep through the entire flight. You dream of soft blue eyes, the lingering scent of her cologne, the promise of how this could last.

You land in Minneapolis and you eventually have to go your separate ways. The two of you exchange numbers, saying your goodbyes, although Paige doesn’t let you get anymore than three feet away from her before she’s catching you by the wrist and pulling you into her. Her hands are cold against your cheeks as she kisses you gently, something deep and lingering and a confirmation that tastes like ‘you and I aren’t done here.’ The falling snow lands gently on your cheeks, melting under the heat of your blush, and you can’t help your smile, interrupting your kiss as the both of you dissolve into laughter. Paige kisses you again, something softer that leaves you feeling warm all over despite the chill, and you thank your Christmas miracle for leading you here.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #uconn wbb #uconn #ncaa wbb

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aishi-toru · 14 days ago

Text

YOU'RE MY WISHLIST! ♡

⟡ synopsis ─ gojo satoru's the man who seems to be everywhere you go, whether it be within the comfort of your own home or miles away from the place. well, guess what happens when you show up looking a little too fine at your college's annual christmas eve party?

꣑ৎ content ─ MDNI, brother'sbsf!satoru / collegesenior!satoru x afab!reader, reader is suguru's younger sister, no use of y/n, reader can't escape him, suggestive content, reader is in love w/ gojo (and vice versa), intentional use of lowercase, usage of pet names e.g baby, pretty, good girl, etc., smut in the form of fingering, and probably more idk

◖word count — 2.6k

☆ credits ─ live laugh love @anitalenia 4 the gorgeous divider <3 no specific inspiration for this fic, just felt like writing one fueled by my christmas spirit (i have never celebrated christmas in my life, so if u caught me lacking, no u didn't!)

꩜ author's note ─ first fic ever & ofc it's ft. my man !! i'm not v satisfied with this work and it was really rushed towards the end, so feedback is much appreciated :3 merry xmas to all those celebrating and happy holidays ♡ title's from "a nonsense christmas" by sabrina carpenter :3

when you left home for college, you were certain you’d outrun the real-life horrors of your past— your parents' scoldings, the shitty food served at your school's cafeteria, the fake people you were surrounded by, and most importantly, your brother's best friend, gojo satoru, who just seemed to get finer with every single passing day.

the man was, for some reason, genetically white-haired all over. yeah, he had albinism, but god, the sight of him was no less than breath-taking. his sparkling, cerulean orbs, which glowed mesmerizingly both under the moonlight and the sun, seemed more and more enchanting with each passing moment. as the years went by with him by your brother's side, you told yourself to look away, refusing to acknowledge the feelings that flickered inside whenever you saw him. you did whatever you could to let go of them— tried to distract yourself with the shittiest of boyfriends, avoided him at school, locked yourself up in your room whenever he came over to hang out with your brother, you name it.

however, it seemed that luck hated, no, despised your embrace no matter how much you yearned for it, considering how the menace was always hovering around, inserting himself into your life at the most inconvenient moments. you're rehearsing for a school play in an empty classroom? the next thing you know, he has an arm propped around your shoulder and smiling at you in the most stupidly handsome way ever with a lollipop in his mouth as he asks you to just... practice with him around. oh, you're trying to get him off of you now? he'll steal your script before you can escape him and raise his hand up as high in the air as possible so you can't reach it. "hey, give it back!" you exclaim, only to be met by a smug smirk on his face and the most annoying "nuh-uh." he completely refuses unless you promise to not kick him out until the practice session is over.

you're walking back home with your brother, suguru? oops, gojo is there too! he's ruffling your hair no matter how pissed you get and yell at him; he only finds joy and pleasure in seeing you in this enraged state. whether he was a sadist, masochist, or simply insane, you did not know.

so, starting college felt like stepping into freedom. no more conversations centered around satoru, no more being so pissed you lose your voice from screaming, and no more late-night sob sessions everytime he got a new girlfriend.

however, it seemed that you'd forgotten that the stars didn't quite align for you, and the universe had decided to remind you of that very fact by ensuring that satoru received enough distinctions to be able to transfer universities. oh, and of course, the one he'd chosen just had to be the one you'd decided to spend the next 4 years of your life in. it wasn't until after you’d moved into your dorm and started your classes that you found out.

the first time you saw him around campus, you were freaked the fuck out. nevertheless, you simply assumed he was visiting a friend or relative and dismissed the sight.

however, much to your dismay, you discovered that he was, in fact, a senior at your college—a 2nd year, to be exact. it wouldn't be an understatement to assume you nearly had a heart attack when you found out, considering how this was the same guy who used to have a 2.6 gpa back in high school. when did he even start taking his studies seriously and lock in hard enough to meet the criteria and eligibility for your university, one of the most prestigious in the entire country? instead of rooting for you, fate just had to be your biggest hater.

every single time you saw him around, gojo would come up to you to exchange greetings and obviously, tease you about the most embarrassing things from your past while his obnoxious fangirls stared you the fuck down, wondering why he's so close to you even though you're just a freshman who should have nothing to do with him.

what surprised you more, however, was that you sometimes shared the same sentiment as them because you were definitely never this close with satoru. not in all the years your brother used to hang out with him, or all the times you'd seen each other on family dinners. sure, he'd teased you plenty, but he had no real concern or curiosity towards you. you found him walking you to classes, treating you to coffee and meals, buying you all the snacks you could ever need during exam preparations and so much more that you could never even list down.

and worst of all, the feelings you'd so desperately pushed away in the past had now creeped their way back into your heart and embedded every inch of your soul even deeper.

it struck you then—satoru’s actions might not be out of pure obligation. that would’ve been far too simple, too detached for someone like satoru. maybe, just maybe, there was something more to it, something unspoken lingering beneath it all. you couldn’t say for sure if it was intentional or not, but whatever it was, it felt personal, like you mattered in a way that went beyond the promises he'd made to your elder brother and family.

but still, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was all just in your head. satoru’s actions, the way he treated you—it didn’t necessarily mean what you thought it did. it could be nothing—satoru’s actions didn’t have to mean anything. maybe you were just fooling yourself, letting your feelings cloud your judgment. so, you buried them as deep as you could, pushing them aside, telling yourself that letting go was the only way to protect yourself from the uncertainty. it was easier to convince yourself that you were just being delusional instead of facing what could be very real.

although, you do seriously question your latter supposition at your annual college christmas eve party when satoru, dressed in the sexiest 3-piece navy blue pinstripe suit with a black tie, has you pinned against the door of the nearest bathroom. if haven't had the opportunity to pay enough attention to his luminous, cerulean eyes up until now, you do at this very moment when he's staring at you like a predator would at it's prey.

"satoru," you let out a breath you weren't aware of holding, "what are you doing?" gojo, whose gaze had shifted down to your lips, let out a chuckle. "oh, so it's satoru now," he murmured, his hand pushing your hair behind your ear. "fine, 'toru..," you pronounce, going back to the nickname you'd started calling him during the while you'd spent with him. "that's more like it." his eyes meet yours again, conveying the desire and thirst that stirred within him— for how long, nobody knows.

the air around you two was thicker than usual, laced with tension as well as something… else. "you still haven't answered my question." upon your words, the white-haired man's face broke out into a cupid-induced smile, the most beautiful you'd ever seen. "well," his right thumb traced the outline of your lips so light as if you'd break from further pressure, "i thought you looked beautiful." what he says renders you speechless, your throat gone dry and your cheeks turning the prettiest shade of rose (in his eyes, at least.) "you always do, but even more so today." and if you weren't already a flustered mess, you would most certainly be now.

your reaction only draws a smirk on his face, and he decides to tease you a little more. "so, on that note, what do you think i'm doing?," his voice lowers as his hand traces its way down to your neck. "i... uh- i don't know... you tell me." satoru grins, only wanting to push you further.

"yeah? how about i show you instead?" and a mere instant later, his lips come crashing down on yours— you couldn't say you hadn't been expecting or anticipating it, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the way his warm and impossibly soft lips felt against yours. initially, you froze, and you came to realise that all the possibilities you'd once ignored were now very much real.

it wasn't a bad thing— no, nowhere near it, maybe even one of the best that could ever happen to you. however, it did feel like too much of a development to be able to process in a matter of seconds.

upon the realisation that you hadn't responded to his advances, satoru pulled back from the kiss, seeming rather puzzled. "was i wrong?" he inquires, voice lower and deeper than it normally would be.

the melodic sound of his voice is what breaks your trance and serves as your call back to reality. you wanted to say no, reach for his collar, get on your tip-toes and lean in to kiss him, but you were stuck in place. you couldn't find your voice or your words, and it felt like your heels were superglued to the tiles of the bathroom floor.

if it hadn't already been obvious, you'd been yearning for this moment for god knows how long, and now that it was handed to you on a sliver platter, you couldn't simply pass up on it. being well aware of the fact that this encounter could change your and satoru's relationship for either the better or the worse, you took a deep breath, cupped the sides of his face, and tilted your head just enough to be able to kiss the man. your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer, if that was possible.

being the way he is, satoru smiled into the kiss and lowered his hands to your hips. he could tell you were pouring each and every emotion from both the past and the present, and of course, he was doing the same.

it was inevitable, really— now that you could feel his skin against yours, it wasn't too difficult to put the pieces together and figure out that this was all bound to happen, already having been inked into the wondrous book of fate.

and so, for the first time in all the years you'd spent alongside satoru, you could say that the universe was, in fact, rooting for you. the way gojo's lips moved against yours, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world when he pulled away, the way the both of you heavily panted but still chased each other's warmth again barely seconds later, are more than enough confirmation.

"no, you weren't," you reply, feeling giddier than you ever had. "i wasn't what?" his hands caress your cheek with a carefulness that was almost unlike him, and your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest (in the best way possible.) "you weren't wrong."

"and i'm still not wrong if i do this?" his large hand reached under your clothes and wandered up to your waist, resting over the skin of the region. "or this?" his mouth had reached your neck, leaving kisses-turned-bites all over, which were sure to transform into hickeys.

"no... no, you're not," you let out breathlessly, unable to escape the fire coursing through your veins at the slightest touch. you wanted more, so much more, and satoru was the only one who could fulfil your needs— not that you would have it any other way.

"you sure, pretty?" the corner of his mouth went up, resulting in a lopsided grin— he was obviously teasing you, that was just the way he was and always had been.

"uh-huh," you nod to reaffirm your statement. "good girl," he breathes out, only contributing to the echoes in the parts of your body which ached for him so badly.

his long fingers played and toyed with the hem of your dress, as if to test the waters. when you didn't resist, his hand sneaked up your thigh, gently fondling the skin.

despite the confidence in his actions, he observed every expression on your face cautiously, ensuring that nothing he did hurt you or made you uncomfortable in any way. when you show no signs on unease but instead only desire, he goes on to satisfy and soothe your needs.

his fingers traced their way up your inner thighs and lurked over the already soaked fabric of your underwear, bringing about a chuckle from satoru. "so needy for me already, hm?" he remarks, as if his own pants weren't tightening upon the observation.

"shut up, 'toru..." you're trying to regain your composure and keep up an attitude, but to no avail. the fact that he has you exactly where he wants you isn't helping, either. you're even trying to avoid his gaze, but the way you can feel his presence everywhere makes it impossible to do so— besides, he's making you face him again using his index finger and thumb to hold your chin in between, as he whispers out a "look at me, baby."

and when you do, you have to let out a gasp at the sight of him— his disheveled hair which was perfectly tamed at the start of the night, his half-lidded eyes as he looks at you like you're his entire world and his lips that are now slightly bruised and swollen from the kisses you've shared. it was beyond enough to get you all the more hot and bothered.

oh, but that's not the only factor contributing to the sounds you're making— it's also the way he's pulled your panties to the side and is currently tracing your slit ever so slowly. "want more, princess?" nearly mocking tone.

you hardly even manage to let out a hum before his slender fingers are running over the most sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a moan from you. your eyes roll all the way back when one of his digits slides inside you just a moment later— you'd never been this sensitive, but it seems that was going to be entirely different with satoru.

he added one after the other, and now, three of his freakishly large fingers were pumping in and out of you relentlessly— he was so good with them, you could practically taste your orgasm about to wash over you.

"'m close, satoru," you whimper out almost pathetically, and his fingers are going even deeper now, hitting the spots you'd never even dreamt of reaching on your own. "yeah? is my princess gonna cum for me?" his voice is rough and he's groaning as if he's the one receiving the pleasure.

you can only nod as your arousal overwhelms you, white ropes of cum spurting out from your throbbing hole with one final thrust of his fingers. his entire hand was covered in your fluids, which he brought up to his mouth to be able to savor the sweetness of your juices on his tongue. god, he was an obsessed freak when it came to you.

"ew, satoru! why would you do that?" you hold back a giggle, expressing faux disgust at his actions. he only kisses you in response instead of using his words, making sure you get to taste what he'd drawn out of you as well.

"you think suguru's gonna be mad?" he asks, obviously amused at the idea of your brother enraged when he finds out what you and satoru have done. "oh yeah, definitely." he sweetly presses yet another kiss to your lips.

"if it's at the expense of me getting everything i wished for, i don't care, babe."

@cuntphoric :33

#ash of the brightest flame ever burnt —✶⌒(ゝ。∂)#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #cocoamide

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