#not feeling christmas this year but it's okay

[defmaybe]

last night's mascara

12 Days of Christmas: Day 11, January 4th, 2025

Dreamcatcher’s Lee Gahyun x Male Reader

3.1k words

Christmas Masterlist

What a boring ass party.

It’s the thought that has been lingering inside your head for the last two hours. The decorations? Daft. The song choice? Lame. The conversations? Rote. So, there you are, one hand on your phone, the other fiddling with your fingers restlessly. Should’ve bought Balatro when it was on sale.

You scroll your Twitter feed aimlessly, pressing likes on the fan sites’ pictures of your favorite groups—fromis_9, Red Velvet, (G)I-DLE. It’s the only way to escape this party without raising much suspicion.

Well, not until Gahyun notices you standing in the corner of your eyes.

“Not enjoying it?”

You almost drop your phone on the ground, good thing you can balance it with your hands.

“Shit, y–yeah,” you reply.

Gahyun giggles softly, covering her mouth with the glass of champagne in her hand. She’s in her red and white Christmas dress, one that shows off a lot—her shoulders, her legs, her ample cleavage. Fuck, she looks so tantalizing.

“So,” she says. She’s pulling you into a conversation. Abort. Abort. Abort!

“How was your day?” she asks, “Wait, oh my god, that was a terrible question. I’m sorry if it’s too plain for you.”

It’s over for you.

“No, no, it was–great. I’m fine,” you reply. “How are you?”

Gahyun chuckles. “A bit drunk, but still standing!” she says with a bright smile, twisting her foot coyly. God, she looks gorgeous.

You only shoot a smile back at her. You don’t know what more to say. It’s difficult for you to continue the conversation like this. You can’t do this.

“Hey,” she continues. You’re finished. “I can keep you company here if you want.”

She’s kind, but you’ll have to say no. You aren’t good enough to hold her right here. You don’t have anything to talk about!

“Ah, I–I appreciate that, but I don’t think you’d enjoy my company,” you decline, taking a sip of the champagne in your hand.

She giggles, and you fall victim to your own self-deprecation once again. You just can’t stop pushing people out, can you?

Fuck.

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, come on!” she encourages. You’re taken aback by her enthusiasm to be with you. Is she really enjoying your company? Is it a dare? Is she just toying with you for her own entertainment?

“O–Okay, Gahyun,” you stammer.

The conversation begins at the expense of your solitude. It’s seemingly unending. You’re involuntarily dragged into an exchange with the talkative Lee Gahyun. However, you’re slowly dragged into her charismatic presence. You’re somehow not stuttering anymore? Goodness gracious! She’s a good talker. She’s a good listener. She’s genuinely comforting to be around.

“So–speaking of music, have you been listening to anyone recently? Well, outside of k-pop, it’ll be too boring,” Gahyun asks.

You contemplate a bit before you answer, “Well, I’ve been listening to Gracie Abrams a lot lately. Do you know her?”

“Gracie Abrams–hmm–is she the one who opened for Taylor Swift?”

“Yeah!” you happily answer. She’s really full of knowledge. “I started listening to her a few years ago. Quality can be choppy sometimes, but I still like her a lot.”

“I’m sure she’s great,” she says with a giggle. “That’s why you’re drawn to her.”

You can only chuckle at her warm words. God, she really knows how to reel you in. 

“What about you? Who have you been listening to?” you ask her the same question back. Normally, you’d be beating yourself up for not changing the question, but with Gahyun, it feels like you don’t have to worry about anything.

Gahyun laughs, cutely covering her mouth while doing so. “Well, mostly Billie Eilish, her new album. Have you heard it yet?”

“Oh, yeah! I love Birds of a Feather a lot. Wait, let me guess yours–uh–” you pause, trying to guess her favorite from the album.

Gahyun adoringly smiles, waiting for your guess. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the light, but, fuck, are you having a crush on her?

“Chihiro?”

“Aww~ that’s close! It’s actually my second favorite,” Gahyun says, pouting cutely. You can only awkwardly giggle along to cover the embarrassment from the mistake.

“I actually love Lunch the most, to be honest,” she says. “Makes me click my heels, you know?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean–I also like Lunch, but–uh–it’s just not as sad as Birds of a Feather.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, that’s definitely interesting!” Gahyun says. “So, you like sad songs? Do you like–uh–have any to recommend to me?”

You give her a few songs. She nods in acknowledgement. The exchange continues into the night. It flows so lively that you get lost in her charm, over and over again. You find out about her dog at home—Bae. You find out that she loves pineapples on pizzas. You find out that her favorite TV show is Goblin (yes, that Goblin).

As it goes on, you can’t help but steal glances at her body, even if you know how inappropriate that is. You’ll use the opportunity when she looks away to take in the view of her ample cleavage or her meaty thighs. She looks so good, so deli–

“Hey,” she derails your train of thoughts. “Did you just–stare at my tits?”

Your eyes widen in shock. You didn’t realize that you’ve been looking at her for a little too long. Your hands tremble in fear of getting called out. You should say sorry, now!

“F–Fuck, I–I’m so s–sorry, Gah–”

“Zip it,” she cuts you off, putting her index finger on your lips. “I don’t want excuses.”

Tears start to form in your eyes. You’re being mentally cornered by Lee Gahyun, the company darling. God, you’re beyond fucked. Your whole life is being undone because of a slip. Fuck.

Then, she whispers into your ear.

“Meet me at the women’s bathroom in five minutes.”

You nod with your eyes closed slowly, before she departs from you, giving you the view of her hips swaying before disappearing into the crowd.

—

The women’s bathroom smells of air purifier, it’s taken care of well. It’s brightly lit. You find Gahyun standing in the middle of the room—arms crossed, tapping her foot. She’s waiting for you.

“Come here, lock the door,” she orders, gesturing you to her. Her voice is much, much more stern than in the ballroom, but there’s also–something else. Is she mad at you, or is it something else?

The door clicks shut, leaving the bathroom only for you two. You slowly walk towards Gahyun, who’s looking at you expectantly.

The air thickens with anticipation. The silence is heavy. You’re stuck in the bathroom with Lee Gahyun. She doesn’t seem too pleased with your presence here, but why would she be calling you here, then?

“So,” she starts. You close your eyes shut in fear. “Anything to say before we start?”

You shake your head vigorously, hoping that the admission would lessen the punishment directed at you.

You hear a wicked laugh, as she starts to circle around you. Your body trembles in fear. Fuck, what is she going to do with you. Is she going to beat you up? Is she going to berate you?

“Are you sure that you’ve locked the door?” she asks from behind you. You can feel her breath on your neck. It’s terrifying.

“Y–Yes, Gahyun,” you stammer out.

“Good. Now, take off your pants,” she orders sternly. Wait, this isn’t going where you’ve expected.

“Wait, do you want me to–”

“Take off your pants, yes,” she finishes your sentence without any hesitation. Determination shines in her eyes.

“O–Okay?” you utter, before reluctantly unbuckling your belt. It’s so hard to come off when your hands are literally shaking like this. Your breathing becomes erratic with each second that passes by.

“Faster,” she sternly commands into your ear. Her warm breath touches your skin, eliciting goosebumps everywhere. Your hands quickly take off your trousers as she orders, leaving your lower body in your boxers. The outline of your erection becomes visible under them.

“Good,” she says, the warmth of your hand emanating into your firm ass. “Now, if you’d show me what you’ve been hiding under this–garment.

You immediately comply with her order, sliding down your tight boxers in a hasty motion. Your hard cock springs free from its confinement. It twitches in the anticipation of what’s to come. Gahyun presses into your body from the back, making your ass touch her warm crotch. Her perfume pervades your nostrils, making your legs wobble like jelly.

“Hmm, excited, aren’t we?” she coos. Her right hand reaches from the back to tease you. She leaves just a little space between her hand and your cock. You wish you could just grab her hand and make her touch your hardness right now, but that’s not how you play this game. You can only wonder how Gahyun can hide this side for so long—the side that dominates the shit out of you.

“Do you want me to touch it? Say it.” Her hot breath brushes against your ear, teasing you, pushing you towards the limit.

“Y–Yes, I want you to touch it, Gahyun,” you utter, mind going all haywire from the sheer intensity of her body warmth against your back.

You hear Gahyun giggle mischievously from the back, before her hand latches onto your cock firmly, making you groan in sheer ecstasy.

Slowly, she begins her dirty display on your cock. She lazily drags her hand up along your length, eliciting a shudder from you. When she’s at the top, she makes sure to take a swipe on the tip to make you moan. Your brain is now filled with nothing but her otherworldly handjob she’s giving. She feels so good.

You moan and whimper in her tight restraint, naked from below the waist. Her hands are slowly jerking you off with an unmatched mastery. Her smell is intense—her perfume, and something that’s explicitly her.

She slowly finds her rhythm, knowing when to pump, knowing when to swipe. She goes faster, eliciting guttural groans and whimpers out of you. 

Your cock is being fondled by the company darling, and that thought alone sends you into rapture. She’s the same woman you see every day. She’s the same woman you’ve talked to. She’s the same woman who everyone loves. Now, she’s jerking you off in the women’s bathroom, making you moan and whimper.

Maybe it’s the sheer intensity of the situation, you can feel your loins tightening. Your body becomes rigid. Your breathing becomes erratic. You’re going to cum in Lee Gahyun’s hand!

“You know, I’ve been told a lot that I have nice lips,” she says. Her hands remain a little too eager to finish you off. It’s becoming too irresistible to cum right now. You can feel the tension rising within your loins. You do want more than her hand, indeed. That pair of lips are a little too tantalizing for you to not be on your cock—so plump, so pouty.

“F–Fuck, Gahyun, I–I’m gonna cum,” you utter. Time is running low, and you have to make her stop before you blow a load all over the bathroom floor and get short-circuited for the rest of the night.

Gahyun lets out another wicked giggle. “Say please, then.” She’s not going to stop so easily, not before you profusely beg her to.

“Nghhn~ p–please, Gahyun,” you plead, voice already shaking in the intense sensation.

“Again, and I’ll lift my hand off,” she teases, jerking you off even faster. Your mind is all hazy from the sheer pleasure you’re getting from her hand. Your blinking becomes rapid. Your vision becomes blurry.

“Nghh~ please, G–Gahyun.”

Gahyun suddenly removes her hand from your cock, leaving it twitching in the air. You sigh, as the tension slowly drops back to normal. You’re happy not to cum before you get to take on her mouth.

“Close one,” she says, letting go of you from her warm embrace. You feel like you can fully breathe for the first time in years. She was suffocating, but you won’t deny the pleasure she gave you, of course.

Gahyun slowly walks back to your front, putting the highlight of her next act for you to see—her lips, those dick-sucking lips. You and the guys have talked about this behind her back (well, behind everyone’s back) about how good her lips would feel on your cocks, head bobbing up and down in a hypnotic motion, bringing intense pleasure to whoever gets their dick sucked. 

Now, it’s your turn.

Gahyun kneels, not without seductively swaying her wide hips as she goes down. Your cock twitches at the sight violently, so ready to be taken into her mouth.

“Say please, just like when I jerked you off,” she commands. She seems to know when to raise her voice and when to not.

“Please, Gahyun,” you utter, your voice all dry from the moaning and the internally burning desire.

The first contact is nothing short of divine. Gahyun starts slow. She starts by taking in just the mushroom tip into her mouth. She feels so warm, so tight, so right. Gahyun gives the underside of your cock a playful lick, making your body jolt in response.

She then begins her show, pushing herself further on your cock. It’s a lewd sight, really—the direct eye contact, the sound she’s making (it’s kind of a low, satisfied hum), the way she fondles your balls with her fingers. Pleasure just shoots through your body like a bullet. Without any restraints, you could just cum into her mouth right here and now. She pushes further and further, making you groan in pure bliss, until she starts to gag.

“Y–You don’t have to take it all, G–Gahyun.”

She says nothing, instead diving deeper onto your cock, all while using her tongue to play with the underside of your length. No woman has ever given you a blowjob as good as this—the deliberate movement, the will to gag, the pouty lips. Gahyun really has it all.

She keeps the eye contact intact, a reminder of her control. The gagging sounds she’s making don’t hinder her dominance by a little bit. She lets you know who’s in control here. It’s her and only her.

She finally pushes herself up to the hilt of your cock. She gags. She chokes. She sputters. Globs of spit leaks out of her mouth. Your head falls backwards from the pleasure. Her eyes are barely opening from the sheer size of your cock. You love this. You love the sounds she’s making. You love how she dominates the shit out of you. You love that she’s willing to suck you off like this (even if she’s the one in full control).

She stays there, gagging, choking, sputtering on your cock. She’s taking in the pungent scent of you, judging by the way she takes a deep breath through her nose. Her lips look so good on your cock like this. The base of your length becomes saturated by her red lipstick and spit. Streaks of black mascara run down her cheeks. You’re revelling in it. You’re revelling in the sight.

“G–God, G–Gahyun,” you utter.

With that, she slowly pulls back from your cock, leaving a trail of her rosy lipstick on it. Her eyes are fluttering violently with the thickness and length of you. She can barely breathe, and you’re loving it.

Instinctively, your right hand goes to the back of her head, tugging her hair to pull her out of the predicament called your cock. She gets to breathe again, and she quickly dislodges herself off you.

“Ah, y–you taste good,” she says, still trying to catch her breath. The marks from the earlier act are evident.

You say nothing, letting Gahyun catch her breath again, waiting for the time she can take in your cock once more. She breathes in, she breathes out, and finally, she’s ready again.

“I’m not holding back this time, alright?” she says, determination sparks inside her eyes.

“S–Sure.”

She grabs onto your cock with her right hand, pulling you close, before she takes your cock into her mouth. This time, it’s more violent, more fervent. She catches her rhythm and doesn’t look back. She starts to bob her head back and forth on your cock, and doesn’t that make you whimper like a bitch?

“Nghhh~ s–so good,” you mewl.

Gahyun only replies with a giggle on your cock. Her grip is still firm. Her free hand fondles your balls gently, trying to coax cum out of you.

She catches her rhythm, moving her head in a hypnotic motion. She really wants you to cum under her influence like this. You hear her gag. You hear her choke. You hear her sputter.

The tension in your loins starts to rise again. You’re on the verge of cumming with the help of the earlier handjob, and she doesn’t seem to stop at all. That’s it. You’re unloading your cum inside of Lee Gahyun’s mouth, making her taste your white essence.

“G–Gonna cum,” you utter.

Gahyun responds by going as rapidly as she can on your throbbing cock. The sensation is electric. It shoots through you like a bullet. The knot tightens, and you can do nothing to stop it.

With the final stroke, you unload your pent-up lust into Lee Gahyun’s throat, making her taste your essence. Your body jerks forward in pure pleasure. You let out a low, guttural groan at your precipice, unable to make sense of the situation. She lets out a satisfied hum as she feels your white, hot cum hit the back of her throat. You’re probably salty, like the other women have said.

You slowly come down from your peak, finally catching your rhythm again. Your cock’s spurts turn into soft drizzles off the slit. Gahyun pulls off of your cock with a loud pop. What an obscene sight. Her face is a fucking mess—mascara, lipstick, it’s all wrong. You’re still too dazed to say a thing, though.

“You taste good,” she says, opening her mouth, sticking her tongue out lewdly to show the emptiness of her wet cavern. She drank it all.

“I–I wanna do this again,” you involuntarily utter from the depths of your heart. “I want you to suck my cock again.”

Maybe it’s the sheer absurdity of your words. Maybe it’s the wake of your climax. She bursts out a laugh, a genuine one. You watch her laugh awkwardly.

“Ask me–ha–properly,” she says. “Will you, Lee Gahyun–”

“Will you, Lee Gahyun–”

“Suck–”

“Suck my cock again?”

She lets out a chuckle, before answering, “Definitely, maybe.”

—

[ikkyfics]

Happy New Year

James Potter x f!reader

Summary: “Okay, your challenge is… to kiss someone before midnight.” Your heart raced. “I… what?” You looked at them. “It’s simple, you just have to pick someone. Anyone.” Anyone. You knew you should pick someone random, but there was no way. The truth was, since the moment you’d entered the hall, there was only one person you’d even consider. James.

Warnings: fluffy, new year challenge, shy!reader, first kiss

A/N: first fic of the year <333 I would like to wish everyone a happy new year, full of things as wonderful as each one of you

Masterlist

The hall where the party was taking place seemed magical in a way no elaborate spell could replicate. The students who stayed at Hogwarts over the Christmas holidays had transformed a space near the Astronomy Tower into a warm celebration, full of twinkling lights, lively music, and laughter echoing from every corner. It was impossible not to feel the joy hanging in the air, but you could hardly focus on what was happening around you.

Your gaze, as always, ended up being drawn to him.

James Potter. With his purposefully messy black hair, the easy smile that seemed to light up any room, and those vibrant blue eyes behind his round glasses, he was a gravitational force for you. There was something about him that made your heart beat a little faster every time he entered the same room. No matter how many times you promised yourself you’d stop looking, it was as if your eyes betrayed your resolve.

You’d known him for years, but he seemed like the kind of person who never stopped surprising you. Always so full of life, so confident, so... him. Even so, nervousness took over every time he spoke to you or smiled in your direction. It wasn’t something you could control; it was like every time he looked at you, the ground disappeared beneath your feet, leaving only an anxious tingling in its place.

Not that there were many interactions between you. Most of the time, James was surrounded by his friends or laughing at one of Sirius’s jokes. But on the rare occasions he spoke to you directly, your mind seemed to completely shut off. You remembered the way he smiled when he asked to borrow the book you were holding in the library weeks ago, his fingers brushing lightly against yours as he took it. Or the time he held the door open for you in Potions class, tossing a casual “Don’t mention it” that left your face burning for the rest of the day. He probably didn’t even think about those moments, but for you, they replayed in your mind like scenes from a film.

And now he was here, in the same hall as you, laughing at something Remus had just said. James’s laugh was unmistakable—loud and contagious—and you couldn’t help but smile, even without knowing why. He looked so at ease, so natural, that it felt like he was a part of everything that made Hogwarts feel like home.

“You’re staring at him again, you know?” The voice of Anne, one of your friends, interrupted your thoughts, and you quickly turned, feeling your face heat up. Miriam was sitting next to you, a mischievous smile on her lips as she watched you.

“I’m not staring,” you mumbled, trying to look away, but Anne’s laughter from across the table made it clear they didn’t believe you.

“Of course not,” Miriam teased. “It’s just that he’s the only thing you’ve looked at for the past thirty minutes.”

You tried to protest but knew it was pointless. They already knew enough about your feelings for James to not be easily convinced.

“Speaking of challenges…” Anne began, a playful glint in her eyes. “You haven’t completed any yet, and midnight’s almost here.”

Your mind was immediately filled with the absurd ideas they’d come up with throughout the night. Earlier, Anne had dared Miriam to steal a piece of pie straight from the teachers’ table. Miriam, in retaliation, made Anne approach a group of friends and hum a ridiculous song. None of you were exempt from the next challenge, and you knew your turn was coming.

“Okay,” Miriam said, leaning closer. “Your challenge is... to kiss someone before midnight.”

Your heart raced.

“I... what?” You looked at them, hoping they were joking, but their mischievous smiles made it clear they were serious.

“It’s simple,” Anne insisted, as if it really were. “You just have to pick someone. Anyone.”

Anyone. The idea made your stomach churn. You knew you should pick someone random, someone who didn’t make your heart race with nervousness, but there was no way. The truth was, since the moment you’d entered the hall, there was only one person you’d even consider. James.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it echoed throughout your body. Your feet were glued to the floor, and the idea of approaching James Potter seemed far too daunting to be real. But the challenge echoed in your mind, along with Anne and Miriam’s expectant gazes. Before you could change your mind, you took a deep breath and stepped forward.

James was alone now, a rare sight, considering he almost always had one of the Marauders by his side. He was standing by the table where some drinks and snacks had been laid out, his back to you. He seemed distracted, fiddling with something on the table, and that gave you the push you needed. Even so, every step toward him felt like a test of courage, and your legs trembled so much you feared tripping before you even reached him.

When you were just a few feet away, he turned, and the world around you seemed to stop. James smiled—that easy, unassuming smile that was somehow devastating at the same time. You felt the air leave your lungs, and for a moment, all you could do was stare. He looked beautiful, as always, with his messy black hair falling slightly over his forehead. The round glasses gave him a unique charm, and those blue eyes shone with an intensity that made your heart nearly leap out of your chest.

“Hey,” he said, his voice relaxed but with a warm tone that made you feel strangely safe, even as anxiety swirled inside you. “Want a drink?” He held up a glass of juice you hadn’t even noticed he was holding.

“Oh, no... I mean, yes... no, thanks,” you stammered, feeling your face heat as your words came out completely jumbled. He chuckled, a low, genuine sound that seemed to tickle your stomach.

“Sure? I promise I didn’t put anything weird in here. At least, not much,” he joked, his smile widening as he took a sip of his own drink.

You shook your head, trying to ignore how dry your throat felt. “No, I... I’m fine. I just... thought I’d come talk to you.”

“Oh, yeah? I’m honored,” he said, tilting his head slightly in curiosity. “What did you want to talk about?”

You swallowed hard, trying not to look like a complete idiot. “Nothing important. Just... do you like these parties? I mean, do you actually have fun, or do you just come because all your friends are here?”

The question came out completely nonsensical, and you immediately wished you could disappear. James, however, didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he smiled even more.

“I like them,” he replied, leaning slightly against the table as if to seem closer. “I mean, it’s hard not to have fun when you’ve got Sirius trying to dance and Remus trying to stop him from breaking something. What about you? Are you enjoying it, or did your friends drag you here?”

“Oh, they definitely dragged me,” you admitted, feeling the words flow more easily as he kept the tone light. “They do these things... silly challenges and stuff.”

James raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Challenges, huh? So, have you done any, or are you hiding from them?”

You felt your face grow even warmer and glanced away, focusing on anything but his eyes. “Actually... not yet.”

“So you are hiding,” he concluded with a soft laugh. “Well, at least you had the courage to come over here. That’s a start.”

His words, spoken so lightly, seemed to strike something deep inside you. Courage. That’s exactly what you lacked right now, but you knew you had to try. So, before your mind could sabotage your intentions, you blurted out:

“Would you... if I... would you mind if I kissed you?”

The question escaped so quickly and nervously that you barely registered the words before they were out. When silence followed, the urge to run overtook you—disappear before he could respond. But then James did something you didn’t expect. He blinked, briefly surprised, and then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he smiled in a way that made your heart stop.

“Please,” he said softly, his voice warm and full of meaning.

And before you could process what that meant, the countdown to midnight began. The voices around you felt distant as James took a step closer, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made your entire body tingle. It felt as though time slowed when he raised a hand, gently cradling your face, his thumb softly brushing against your heated cheek.

“Happy New Year,” he murmured, almost like a promise, before leaning in slowly and pressing his lips to yours.

The world around you seemed to disappear completely, leaving only you and James in that moment that felt infinite. The kiss was as soft as it was at first, but the way he held you revealed something deeper. His arm found its way around your waist, pulling you gently closer, as though even a sliver of distance might shatter the moment. His touch was firm yet tender, and you melted into him, warmth radiating from every point where your bodies met.

His lips moved against yours with a certainty you never imagined experiencing. It was as if he knew exactly how to make you feel safe, desired, and important. The way he tilted his head slightly, adjusting the angle of the kiss, made every second feel new and even sweeter. Without realizing it, your fingers found the edge of his jacket, holding onto it lightly because your knees threatened to give way.

His scent—something fresh, like open air with a hint of wood—filled your senses, and the texture of his lips, soft yet so assured, made it impossible to think of anything else. There was a perfect balance between tenderness and intensity, and you realized, with a flush spreading across your cheeks, that you would never forget this moment. He was there, entirely present, as though nothing outside of this existed—just you.

When he finally began to pull away, it was slow, almost as though he wanted to savor the moment for as long as possible. His thumb traced lightly along the side of your face before he opened his eyes. You barely had time to recover before you saw those bright blue eyes shining, a mixture of admiration and pure happiness.

That’s when he said your name.

You blinked, surprised, a shiver running down your spine at how intimately he spoke it, as if he were holding something precious. Hearing your name from his lips felt strange, but in a way that made your heart race even faster. You hadn’t spoken much before. How did he know?

“How do you know my name?” you asked, your voice so quiet it barely sounded like your own. Your eyes searched his, seeking answers in every small expression that crossed his face.

James smiled—not just any smile, but the one that seemed to light up the entire room. He raised a hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face gently before answering.

“I pay attention,” he said, with a natural ease that only made him more irresistible. “Did you really think I didn’t notice you? How you always look down when you’re talking to someone, or how you get nervous when you think someone’s watching? I notice. And I’ve wanted to talk to you so many times…”

You were speechless, completely captivated by his tone, by the way he seemed so genuine. He continued, as though it was impossible to stop now that he’d begun.

“I just never knew how to approach you. You always seemed so... distant. And I thought maybe you wouldn’t want someone like me to talk to you. But... you’re here now. And I won’t pretend I’m not happy about that.”

Your heart was pounding, and you didn’t know what to say. The way he was looking at you made your knees feel even weaker, but something about his words gave you unexpected courage.

“I… I’ve always wanted to talk to you too,” you admitted, your voice hesitant but sincere. “I just didn’t know how.”

James smiled again, softer this time, more intimate. “Well, I guess we’ve figured it out now, haven’t we?”

You laughed nervously, but he tightened his grip on your waist slightly, as if to reassure you that you weren’t going anywhere. Then, as though it was the most natural thing in the world, he said:

“I was thinking... maybe we could continue this conversation later. Just the two of us. What do you think?”

Your heart leapt, and you could hardly believe what you were hearing. “Are you… asking me out?”

“I am,” he replied without hesitation. “And I’m hoping you’ll say yes because I don’t want to miss the chance to really get to know you.”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your lips. “Yes,” you said, almost unable to believe your own words. “I’d love to.”

He grinned in a way that made your chest swell with a joy as light as the crisp night air. “Great. Best way to start the year, don’t you think?”

And with that, he gave your waist one last gentle squeeze, as if to confirm that this moment was real. The sound of fireworks began in the distance, but nothing seemed more important than his gaze, still locked on yours, as if he could stay there forever.

[starmocha]

i'm on the run with you, my sweet love [Sylus/Reader ★ 3737 words ★ Masterlist ★ Series Index ★ AO3] Forever your ride or die. A/N: Happy New Year! I’ve had this story written since Christmas 2024, but I had decided to save it to ring in the new year instead. Kind of based on my favorite Sylus phone call: As You Wish. This is…very………vague…….something…… I’m here for the vibes mostly. :’) Tag list: @miudle @alfredosaws @nezukoo-channn @voidsylus @rose-tinted-kalopsia @valkyyriia 【 request to be added 】

When everything came to a pause, when the whole world had shifted and all eyes were on you, a bounty had been placed on your head and your name suddenly known to the whole universe.

He had whisked you away, his hand in yours, no questions asked.

Where you go, I’ll go with you, he had said, his hold firm, his vow unyielding.

It’s not safe with me. They’ll get you, too, you had warned, giving his hand a little squeeze, almost afraid that you would lose him as well.

Sounds exciting, sweetie.

He had smirked, his lips on yours, a promise that nothing would ever sever his bond with you.

Your arms wrapped around his waist, head pressed to his back, and the sound of his motorcycle raced down the dusty road to nowhere. A trail of dust was left behind, the heat of the sun bore down on you, and the unknown future awaited both of you in the distance.

On the way to the end of the world, you said goodbye to what you had once thought was home, all of the people who had ever loved you were gone.

Except him.

Are you crying?

…No…

Let me hold you. For me.

…Okay…just for you, though…

Thank you, sweetie.

In an unassuming shabby safehouse, one of many he owned around the world, you felt a moment of peace, as false as it may be.

He paced the living room, exhaustion etched on his features. He still hadn’t adjusted to this daytime schedule, and though not a word of complaint or discomfort ever left his lips, you knew he had been pushing himself to his limits to keep you safe.

Sylus, you called, worried, come rest.

He reassured you with a smile, a near perfect façade had it been anyone else he was trying to fool. You knew when he would put on a mask, and you didn’t like it—you were upset that he was lying to you for your sake.

I’m tired, you fibbed, Can we nap together?

Strange how you didn’t feel any qualms about lying for his sake instead. You supposed you were a hypocrite.

Very well. He seemed to concede. What a fussy kitten.

There was no malice in his words. There never were.

You guided his head to your lap, his body barely fitting on the small sofa, but it would do. You stroked his hair, seeing him surrendering to his exhaustion—surrendering to you, as well.

You hummed a song, something light and soothing. His soft snoring soon joined your melody, the two sounds bringing life to this long unoccupied house.

For a moment, this unassuming, shabby safehouse almost felt like a home.

It would be nice to make this place a true home with him, you thought. Some fresh flowers, a little sunlight, and maybe a picture or two could help with the illusion.

Such wishful thinking. You knew in a few days you would both need to leave. This was only temporary.

You needed to go farther—to the place where everything was new and you were nothing more than an unknown drifter seeking something permanent.

For now, though, you both rested. You let your song soothed him, just as his presence had given you hope.

You often wondered what permanent looked like. You also wondered if you and he had the same definition for the word. There were more idle times now than before, so you both humored one another with your own thoughts and whims.

A little cottage in the woods, you thought aloud as you and he lazed about on the couch. You could have a little vegetable garden, and maybe you could also learn how to make your own bread as well.

He could hunt, or perhaps, he could also put his fishing skills to use.

You might even raise chickens. Maybe some ducks, too.

Sweetie, you have it all planned out, he teased, pinching your cheek.

You swatted his hand away, but you couldn’t deny this. You had thought about this life. Thought about it often, in fact. You couldn’t help it. It seemed you had more time to let your mind wander.

Well, you weren’t alone. He also had his own thoughts, his own vision he wished to share.

A seaside house on a cliff, he suggested, adding, We could watch dolphins from the balcony. And have a gin fizz or two.

You laughed and shook your head. What, no tequila?

Tequila can be for breakfast, he added, matching your humor with the same tone and a playful smirk.

We could also have a hot tub on the deck, he added with a lecherous smirk on his handsome face. A nice soak as we watch the sun set over the horizon.

Yeah? Your heart beat faster, his lips looming near yours.

We could also stargaze together, he continued in that same easy tone. So teasingly close, his lips just barely ghosted against yours. He must be doing this on purpose, wanting to see you fluster and squirm because of him. What a scoundrel.

You have it all planned out, you echoed his earlier words back to him, his immediate response that nearly insufferable trademark smirk of his. You caved in first, eagerly taking his lips, wanting to quell the growing heat between the two of you.

He succumbed to your whims, his back suddenly against the couch cushions, your body on top of his. He answered your desperation with his own, all lucid thoughts leaving as you both submitted to your instincts, letting your desires guide you both to Heaven and Hell and back again.

An apartment in the city.

In the city? Again, sweetie?

What better place than hidden in plain sight?

A clever kitten.

You remembered wining and dining under starry skies. The rich food filled your belly wonderfully and the aged wine tasted like the sacred nectar of the gods. Blissfully tipsy, you remembered dancing with him on a rooftop, swaying and twirling, feeling like you were on cloud nine as the stars above shined brilliantly while city lights twinkled and gleamed.

In a humid, cramped bus, you leaned against his shoulder, remembering distant memories that might as well just be silly old fairy tales.

The days blended together. Most days, you weren’t sure if it was Monday or Tuesday, or perhaps it was neither, and it was actually Thursday.

He had acquired a car. Temporary, just like everything else in your life had been these past few months. As he filled the car with gas, you wandered into the convenience store. That particular scent hit you instantly, a strange feeling of nostalgia for something you had never missed.

You wandered down the aisles, hand skimming over the different snacks on display. None of them really caught your eyes or stirred up a craving, but you still picked out a few just in case. As you were checking out, you also grabbed an ice cream bar. The heat was unbearable and a strawberry shortcake bar suddenly sounded enticing. You missed the taste of fresh fruits, something that you never thought would one day be scarce and a sudden luxury.

As you left the store, ice cream bar unwrapped and the refreshing, cooling sweet taste on your tongue, you remembered the time when you and he went to pick strawberries together.

He had already finished refilling the gas tank. As he leaned against the car waiting for you, sunglasses over his eyes, you approached him, holding the cold treat up.

Want a bite?

He smirked, and took a generous bite to your dismay.

H-hey! That was a big bite!

Sorry, sweetie. He didn’t sound apologetic at all. What a prick.

I hope you get brain freeze.

And he laughed, already getting back into the car with you following suit. When you turned to buckle your seatbelt, his hand was on your cheek, already guiding you to his lips. He kissed you sweetly, nibbling on your lips as he tasted you.

When he parted, he smirked at your confusion, your breathing still shaky.

You had ice cream on your lips, he answered matter-of-factly.

Flustered, it took your brain a few seconds too long to register his mischievous words. When it finally clicked, you leaned back over, this time surprising him as you took charge. You kissed as if it was your last, as if he was the air that you needed, and he responded with equal fervor, treating you like a gift bestowed upon him by the highest being, or perhaps more like a forbidden treasure he had greedily coveted. Before the growing lust could cloud your mind, all semblance of reality returned when you heard the incessant honking from the car behind you, and had he been in a sour mood, perhaps there would have been an altercation, one that would end horrendously for the other party, of course.

But he smirked. He leered at the car behind him before speeding off. As he drove, you noticed him licking his lips.

Strawberry, he said, pondering, We should get this ice cream bar again.

You agreed, delighting in the taste of him that still lingered on your lips.

All thoughts disappeared, all of those dirty matrasses from dingy motel rooms didn’t seem to matter. You would always welcome him into you, the late, long nights of lovemaking a sweet escape from the reality you lived. In these little moments of you and him, he was your whole world and you were his. Deep kisses branded your skin, the heated moans of you and him mingled with every movement, every pulse, the need to chase after that paradise heightened by the shared growing passion.

You had memorized his every feature, his every being. The jewel-like crimson eyes of his always reflecting his deep devotion to you, the promise to always surrender to you had long been fulfilled. With every searing hot touch, he worshiped you like a devout man knelt at the altar of a goddess, beseeching her blessings.

He satisfied all of your needs, your desires his to fulfill, willingly and devotedly. No rules to bind you, nothing more to lose, you succumbed to your desires, drifting off to a state of pure euphoria only he could bring you to, just as you were all that he longed for, the only one who he would let rule his heart and bring him to his knees.

When you returned from your high, with the threat of dawn looming, he held you close, gentle fingers threading through your hair soothingly, his warm, deep voice feeling like home.

He lulled you with words of a distant future.

Maybe…we can get a dog.

You laughed. You don’t seem like a dog person, you reminded him, your finger poking his cheek in jest.

He smiled, and grabbed your wrist. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand, the simple act had you stilling with pretty rosy cheeks, illuminated in the dark by a single ray of moonlight.

A cat then, he said, his voice teasing. He stroked your cheek, his fingers just barely skimming against your skin. Maybe two, so she wouldn’t be lonely.

Yeah? you asked, breathless, What else?

He hummed as he contemplated. White picket fences…Have coffee ready for you in the morning…red checkered blanket and a picnic under the sun…

It doesn’t sound like you… you quipped.

It could be me, he responded, his hand moving to tuck strands of hair behind your ear, his soft voice continuing, It could be us. And also—

His words stopped abruptly, sparking your curiosity. You questioned him, but he only answered with an ambiguous smile and a dismissive, amused shake of his head, as if what he was thinking was nothing of importance to dwell further.

It’s late, he whispered, kissing your forehead, Sleep, my beloved.

As you settled more comfortably into his embrace, you felt his hand resting over your lower abdomen, the touch unlike any other time he would embrace you. As your heavy eyelids closed, you realized the words he had withheld, the hopeful future even he seemed too scared to voice into existence.

In your dream, you could have sworn you heard the pitter-patters of small feet on hardwood floor, and his voice full of joy as he effortlessly swept up into his strong arms two little children, a boy and a girl, perfect blends of you and him.

Such a shame that it was only a dream, you thought the morning after in bed as you watched him shaved the five o’ clock shadow from his face in the dirty motel bathroom.

In the mirror reflection, he noticed you sitting up in bed, the cover barely covering your nude body, hair in disarray, and he smiled. You smiled back.

Such a shame indeed, you thought again, feeling a strange ache in your chest as your mind drifted back to the little boy and girl in your dream.

It was amazing how you still had an appetite.

Eggs and bacon seemed extra delicious at diners in the middle of nowhere. As if stuck in time, it looked nothing like the modern eateries you were familiar with. Black and white checkered flooring, large red booths, an old barely working jukebox in a corner—everything seemed like it was untouched by modern advancements, living peacefully in its own world of idle monotony.

As you finished your meal, he stood up, walking over to the ancient jukebox out of curiosity.

He perused the song choices, brows furrowed in contemplation before he settled on one:

In the still of the night / I held you / Held you tight.

Your head lifted at the smooth crooning, eyes meeting his just as he walked back to the booth, his hand extended to you. Silently, a little embarrassed, you took his hand, just like you always seemed to do.

Promise I’ll never / Let you go.

He twirled you around before his hand found your waist, steadying you as he moved you to the rhythm of the music. In the near empty diner, you danced with him, remembering a time long ago, you two had also waltzed just like this.

To keep your precious love.

Your head rested against his chest, his arms around you as he swayed you gently to the music as it faded to silence. Even long after the song had ended, you stayed in his arms, holding firmly onto the one constancy you still held from your past.

Things could get worse.

I’ll be there every step of the way.

An old television set, from decades ago, flashed for an instance a photo of you. Without words, he had dropped a generous amount of bills on the table, his hand already reaching for yours and taking you away before anyone could be wiser.

By the time the waitress had come to clear the table, her tired mind suddenly realizing as she looked from the television back to the empty booth, the young couple had already left town. Discreetly, she tucked away the extra bills into her bra, and resumed her monotonous day, blissfully ignorant and a few hundred dollars richer.

In an old convertible from long ago, driving down an endless, deserted road, you woke up in the passenger seat to his—peculiar—singing alongside the car radio:

No matter what you are / I will always be with you / Doesn’t matter what you do, girl.

You giggled and he turned to look at you momentarily before his eyes redirected to the long road ahead. The radio continued to play the song as you and he conversed:

You’re actually laughing at me, he quipped. You’re so cruel, sweetie.

With you, you corrected him cheekily.

Funny, I wasn’t aware that I was laughing.

You were, you insisted audaciously.

In that case, laugh with me then, sweetie.

You giggled again. I don’t know this song.

His eyes remained ahead, but his right hand reached over to rest on your thigh. He squeezed you gently in reassurance, and as the song neared the end, he sang along again, Ooh girl, you girl, want you.

The radio played the next song, but you settled in your seat, his hand still resting on your thigh and you hummed again the previous song before the gentle drive lulled you back to sleep again. As your consciousness faded away, you heard distantly his voice singing the current song:

So sleep, silent angel, go to sleep / Sometimes / All I need is the air that I breathe / And to love you.

The time that passed made the line between reality and dream blurred. The life you lived, running away with him felt more dreamlike with each passing day as you bounced from old motels to grand estates to the most discreet safehouses he owned. Nothing in either of your life felt permanent right now, except for each other, the only constancy in this reckless fleeing.

You had both discarded your names, only taking them back at night when you were both truly alone, feeling like two lost souls abandoned by the universe. In the dark, you moaned each other’s name, such lovely sounds as warm breath ghosted over slicked skin.

Your hands lightly touched his face, his eyes always locked with yours. Your shuddering gasps and his barely-restrained moans followed in suits as his hands gripped tighter your hips, guiding you up and down on his length. You kissed him, crying as he pierced you again and again, his movements rushing as he felt you nearing your release.

…I can’t…I need to…Sy…please…please…

Hngh…ye-yes…

He was panting, his eyes darkened by the heavy arousal of seeing you, his beloved, falling apart for him—because of him. You arched forward into him, his name spilling out from your lips and pleasure coursed through your entire being. With a few more rushed thrusts, his own release came, his deep groans resonated in your ears as he filled you full.

Collapsed on him, you both rested lazily together with his softened member still inside you and his seed dripping obscenely down your thighs. You hummed into his skin, boneless and satisfied, his warmth so familiar and addicting.

Just two nobody’s in the world, but in this moment, it felt like no one else existed and you were both truly the last of your kind.

How heavenly.

Away, away, you ran from town to town, the final destination only a vague dream. The further you ran, the lighter your heart felt. In his eyes, the bird that was caged was now soaring high. His only wish was to save her before her wings were clipped, and now he would follow her wherever she would take him, her song beckoning him to a paradise for two.

Don’t let go.

Sweetie, you’re stuck with me for life.

Higher and higher, you soared, the sun threatening to scorch your wings.

If you fall, you knew he would be there to catch you. So, you continued to fly, your hand outstretched. All of Heaven would be yours to command. You were going to unlock paradise, a place for two kindred spirits, the last of their kinds, forevermore tethered to one another.

Eventually, the dream came to an end, life catching up within a flash.

You had grown a little careless, believing that you were just a nobody drifting through life, forgetting that there was still a hefty bounty to your name.

Someone had seen your face. Someone had snitched. You wondered if they truly believed you were dangerous, or perhaps it was merely just human greed that drove them to expose you. You supposed it didn’t really matter in the end now. It was all over anyway.

You looked to him, and he to you. A silent exchange of words, an understanding reached.

The distant sirens grew louder and louder as they approached your final hideout.

There was banging outside the motel room, scattered voices calling for your surrender. There would be no negotiation. It wouldn’t matter if they dragged your dead body out instead. On command, a red laser dot maneuvered into the room from the open window, aligning to your head. Your heart was racing, but you stayed grounded, your eyes locked on his.

In just seconds, everything was about to change.

Five.

Four.

Do you trust me? he asked, his hand held out.

With my life, you answered automatically, your hand in his, and with a tug, you were pulled into his familiar warmth, safe and secured as a gunshot sounded and the glass window shattered. His large hand pressed your head gently to his chest, shielding you from the sounds, and just like that, you both left this world behind, disappearing into the swirls of red and black mist he had summoned before the motel door came crashing down.

One.

The end.

Somewhere, in another place, in another time, you woke up to clear blue skies, white picket fences, the smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen, and you heard his laughter mingling with the sweet giggles of two little children.

You hummed pleasantly into your pillow, the sounds of footsteps getting louder and louder until the bedroom door opened. The bed shifted, his heavy weight on you, and your children’s assaulting kisses stealing away your breath and laughter.

Joyful tears brimmed your eyes, your belly aching tremendously from helpless laughter, and your heart at peace as he gazed down at you, his love steadfast and true.

It was almost nine in the morning, but you stayed lounging in bed, surrounded by all that mattered to you. Your children snuggled close to you on either side, your one free hand reached out for his, his hold ever familiar and constant.

His smile mirrored yours, the same devotion in his eyes just like long ago when he took this same hand and whisked you away, running and running until you found your home again at the end of the world.

His thumb caressed yours, his honeyed voice a sweet lullaby. I love you.

And you smiled back. I love you more.

He laughed, surrendering once more to you, always for you.

The past seemed distant, the future too far away. Cradled in the present, in this instance, the world seemed at peace again, and life moved on.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

dino's are fancy! | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: new year eve celebrations are in full swing, however, buddy is set on wearing a dinosaur costume to the party, so leah has to compromise somwhere along the line...

double the trouble masterlist

"Ou' need this one next! B'ue one next!" You demand, less than patient as you thrust the Lego brick into Monkey's hand, "Ere', Monks'! Take it!"

You're sitting cross-legged on the floor in the living room beside Monkey, near to the twinkling Christmas tree. The two of you are deep into building the massive Lego set that your favourite person got for Christmas.

Monkey generously let you help her-- though she was actually doing most of the work, she had cheekily dubbed you as her "assistant."

"Pass it over here then, shrimp," Monkey mumbles, holding her hand out.

"Ere ou' go! 'Ave it!" You chirp, pushing the piece into her hand with determination.

"Good job," Your favourite person murmurs distractedly, focused on the instructions.

The room feels cosy, the soft hum of New Year's preparations buzzing in the background. You're aware there's a big crowd coming over later, and you're beyond excited - especially since your best friend, Rory, is also coming to the party as well with Beth and Viv.

"Monks'?" You not so politely prod the older girl in the shoulder, "When everyone comin' round?" You ask, curiosity piqued.

"Not until way, way later tonight, remember? It'll be dark and the monsters will be out to get ya!" Monkey tells you with a teasing smile.

Your eyes widen in fear, "No' Monsters!" You exclaim, scrambling to your feet and leaving Monkey behind to continue building Lego on her own, "Mummy! Mummy!" You shout aloud the house without a care in the world, absolutely frightened now.

Leah and her girlfriend, Elle, are both currently in the kitchen in the middle of sorting out all the grown-up drinks ahead of the party when you run in like a deer in the headlights.

"Whoa," Elle is the first to catch you mid-run before you crash into something and hurt yourself like you've done once or twice before, "You okay, little miss?"

"I' scared. Where's me, mum?" You ask frantically, your eyes darting around the room to catch sight of Leah, "Mummy! Where are 'ou?"

"I'm right here, bubba," Leah chuckles, carrying a couple of funny-looking bottles in her hand as she places them both down on the kitchen countertop, before crouching down to your level and seeing your frightened expression, "Hey, what's the matter?"

"Mummy! Monks' said there'll be monsters tonight at the party cos' it'll be late!" Your bottom lip trembles with worry, your eyes wide like saucers, "I don' wan see none of da' monsters!"

"What? Ignore your big sister, bubba. I think she’s just being a bit silly," Leah says, shaking her head in disagreement, reaching down to scoop you up and sit you on top of the kitchen counter, "There'll be no monsters in sight at all, alright? You're safe inside the house."

"Ou' promise?" You look sceptical, not entirely sure whether to trust Leah's word or not.

"I promise, bubba," Leah coos, gently moving a flyaway hair out of your eyes, "Monkey is just joking around like she does, alright? But there'll definitely be no monsters at the party tonight, so you have nothing to fear!" She adds, playfully poking you on the nose.

"Kay' den but ou' better mean it!" You agree, still somewhat sceptical about the answer, "I needs’ to ask you a question, please!"

"That's good manners, bubba," Leah praises with a soft smile, "And what might your question be then?"

"When Roo comin' round?" You question, impatiently, "Monks' said no till later on. Dat' true?" You ask, letting out a dramatic huff, complete with flailing arms.

Leah smiles softly, nodding in agreement, "Monks' is right there, bubba. It won't be until much later on when it's dark outside, remember?"

"Why no' earlier? It be borin' when it' dark!" You exclaim, scrunching your face up in confusion, "Me and Roo can' no play with me all toys if it' dark, Mummy!"

"There'll be time to play, bubba," Leah reminds you with a soft, genuine smile, "And remember? Roo’s sleeping over tonight. Are you excited about that?"

Your eyes lit up in excitement, "Uh huh! I 'cited for me sleepover, an' I gets to see Auntie Kei as well, right?" You question, getting straight to the point.

"You do, and Holly, too. I know she's really looking forward to seeing you!" Leah grins enthusiastically, "And you know, Auntie Beth and Auntie Vivi will be coming as well, along with some of the other girls now they're back!"

"I' more excited to see them. I' already see Holly at Nanas' other day," You retort, sassily with a small roll of your eyes, "She nothin' special anymore, Mummy. She don' even bring me choc'ote, she mean."

"Bubba," Leah starts, biting back laughter, "That's not very nice to say things like that now, is it? You know Holly loves you a lot, regardless if she brings you chocolate, or not."

"Yeah, but, I' mean Auntie Kei better than Holly cos' she bring me cookies at least!" You declare, your mind made up on the matter.

Monkey snorts as she enters the kitchen, "Ooft, don't let Holly hear you say that, shrimp." She jokes, ruffling your hair as she passes you.

"Oi, you," Leah turns herself round to look at the teenage girl, "What's this I'm hearin' about you telling Buddy that there'll monsters tonight because it's dark?" She questions.

Monkey winces in realisation, "It was a joke, I swear."

"Yeah, well, it won't be very funny when she's waking up in the middle of the night crying though, will it?" Leah retorts, arching her eyebrow.

"No... I'm only messin' I promise," Monkey protests her innocence, holding her hands up in self-surrender, "Sorry, little Buddy. I didn't mean to really scare you, honest. Do you forgive me?" She apologises to you.

"It' fine. I' forgive 'ou!" You agree, nodding your head promptly.

Monkey grins cheekily, before proceeding to walk over to the fridge, "I'm absolutely hank Marvin'!"

"Me too!" You  chime in, "I' 'ank Marvin' as well, Mummy!"

"Oh, you are, huh?" Leah teases, ticking your sides until giggles bubble out of you, "I guess the three pancakes you ate for breakfast didn't fill up, did they?"

"No. I' still hungry!" You continue to protest, holding your stomach to emphasis.

"Oh, I'm sure you are," Leah teases, playfully rolling her eyes.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a flippin' horse!" Monkey complains, rummaging through the fridge, and pulling out a bag of grated cheese and digging in before Leah swiftly intercepts.

"Aye," Leah scolds, taking the bag away and shooting her a disapproving look, "If you're going to eat that then at least make a sandwich, eh?"

Monkey grimaces, "Yeah, but sarnies are effort."

"Well, then you're not that hungry, are you?" Leah deadpans, returning the cheese to the fridge.

"Yeah, well, it's a lot of effort," Monkey mumbles in response, slumping her shoulders, "Well, what else can I eat? You've practically written everything off for later for the party, I'm starving 'ere, you know? I'm a growing girl!" She states, dramatically.

"You literally ate breakfast less than an hour ago, I'm sure you'll cope," Leah retorts, not resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"How can you both be so hungry?" Elle chuckles, shaking her head.

"I'm a growing girl, innit?" Monkey insists.

"Yeah, I' growing girl as well!" You parrot.

"Copycat," Monkey mutters.

You give her your best scowl, "Am not!"

"Are too!" Monkey quips.

"No I' not!" You fire back, stomping your foot in protest.

"Yes you are, you're such a parrot recently..." Monkey murmurs, going back to the fridge to grab a can of Diet Coke out.

"Are they always like this?" Elle jokes, amusedly watching you and Monkey bicker back and forth.

"More often than not it seems these days," Leah retorts, chuckling and shaking her head, "Girls, that's enough, you two. Can we go one day without you two squabbling, eh?"

"Sorry," Monkey mumbles, piercing the drink and taking a swig of it.

"I' sorry. I' only speakin' truth!" You feign innocence, using familiar words you've heard one too many times now.

Leah chuckles, smoothing a flyaway piece of hair out of your eyes, "Right, shall we go and find you something to wear for the party tonight?" She suggests, switching focus.

"Yeah!" You excitedly agree, eager to get down from the kitchen counter, "An Elle help as well!" You add, pointing your index finger in the direction of the woman.

"You want me to come and help you?" Elle repeats, surprised.

"Uh-huh. I' need 'elp choosing!" You insist with a firm nod of your head, "Can 'ou help me down, please?"

"Sure I can, little madam," Elle retorts, scooping you up off the kitchen worktop with practised ease like she's done it all before.

"Thank 'ou very much!" You exclaim politely before you have the advantage to run off ahead of them, "Come on, Mummy! Come on, Elle. We needs' to pick me outfit!"

"It's very important isn't it," Leah teases, catching up with you as she shakes her head fondly, "Which dress are you going to pick out?" She wonders.

You impatiently tug open the doors of your wardrobe before spinning around and scrunching your face up in disgust, "No dress, Mummy. They yucky!"

"Oh, but how about the dress that Nana brought you?" Leah suggests, moving to grab the sparkly silver dress out of the wardrobe, "Or there's the pink one as well..."

"No, Mummy. I' no wear a dress!" You state, stubbornly as you cross your arms over your chest, turning towards Elle, "Can 'ou tell her that she's being ridiculous?" You insist.

"I'm being ridiculous?" Leah fauxes her hurt, clutching her hand over her chest, "Oh, where has my little baby girl gone..." She pretends to wipe a fake tear from her eye.

"It 'kay, Mummy. I' am still here, but I' big girl now!" You tell her with a cheeky lopsided grin on your face, "I 'ove you!" You add, moving to stand in front of her.

"I love you too, bubba," Leah smiles, squishing your cheeks together and kissing you on the top of your forehead, "Right then, so if you don't want to wear a dress. What do you want to wear instead?"

"Hm, I' think... Dino'daur costume!" You exclaim, spotting it out the corner of your eye hanging on a coat hook, "Dino'daur costume protect me from the monsters!"

"Your dinosaur costume, again?" Leah repeats in a silly tone of voice, "Don't you want to wear something cool for the party? You can wear anything you like! You don't need to wear anything to protect you from the Monsters, they're non-existent, remember, bubba?"

"I' wear dino'daur costume just in case!" You insist, puffing out your chest with determination.

Leah grimaces slightly in disagreement, "Bubba, I think you might end up getting a little bit hot when you wear that when you're dancing, won't you, hmm? Maybe we could try a different option..."

"No, I' be fine. I' gon' wear dino'daur costume!" You tell her firmly, your mind made up on the decision, "I' dance in dino'daur costume!"

Elle chuckles in amusement, "Well that's certainly a different option, hey?"

Leah still doesn't look entirely convinced on the matter, "Little miss, I know you want to wear your dinosaur costume, but don't you want to wear something a bit more... fancier?"

"Ou' need to understand, 'kay, Mummy?" You tell her with a certain seriousness, "Dinos' are fancy!"

Leah bit back a laugh, "Oh are they, huh? I mean, what about pretty instead?"

"Yuck! No pretty! Dino instead!" You declare.

"But... I thought you liked this one, bubba."

"No, it' itchy and scratchy, an it' look horrible!" You ramble off different words you have heard before, shaking your head making your decision firm.

Leah blinks, "You won't look horrible, bubba--"

"Yes, I will! I' be look hideous in it! I' no wear that!" You interject, repeating the words that you hear Monkey say when she doesn't like a certain outfit she wears and looks in the mirror.

"Bubba, Nana brought you this one though, and you liked it when you saw it," Leah explains in a gentle tone of voice, "How about we give it a try?"

You shake your head in disagreement, crossing your arms over your chest, "I' don' care. I wan' be a dino'daur!"

"Excuse me, little miss sass," Leah mumbles in outrage at your newfound sassiness that she's still not entirely used to.

"Ou' need to understand Mummy 'dat dino'daur better," You wiggle your index finger in front of her face and have a somewhat serious expression plastered on your own, "'Kay?"

Leah stifles her amusement with a bite of her bottom lip, "Right, whatever you say then, my stubborn little miss," She jokes, "Are you sure you don't want to try something different instead?"

"Nooo!" You exclaim loud enough to be heard through the whole house, "I' be dino'daur, Mummy. Roaaaar!" You let out an almightly loud roar like one of your favourite t-rexes.

"What, are we pretendin' to be a dinosaur tonight?" Monkey teases as she sticks her head around your bedroom door, "T-Rex or Stegosaurus?"

You ponder the question for a brief second, tapping your small finger on your chin, "I' be a t-rex!" You insist, "Roaaaaaar! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!"

"Scary little t-rex," Monkey jokes, pretending to look somewhat terrified, "What're you shoutin' the house down 'bout anyways?"

"I' be a dino'daur for the party!" You tell her, pointing your index finger in the direction of the costume where it lay still, "Monks'! 'Ou tell Mummy to let me wear it!"

"Well, I mean, why not, eh? You can rock the dino costume!" Monkey exclaims, stepping further into the room and taking the chance to ruffle your hair, "We'll have a little dino at the party instead of a little Buddy, eh?"

"Aye, no, Monks' get off me hair!" You whine, trying to push her hands off you.

"Buddy," Leah tries again, "Maybe just for tonight, we can try something different instead, hm? What about this?" She suggests, holding up a different outfit.

"Nooo! I' not wearin' that," You tell her, scrunching your face up in disgust, "No way I' wearin' that!"

"Geesh, three-year-olds are so sassy these days," Monkey quips, plonking herself down on the carpeted floor, "You know, she's really not going to want to wear anything other than the dumb dinosaur costume now that she has it."

"Yeah, you're not kidding there," Leah mumbles, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I clearly shot myself in the foot there, haven't I?"

Monkey pulls a silly face, flailing her hands up, "I mean, really, it's sorta your own fault for buying it for Christmas. Whatcha' think would happen?"

Leah shoots your favourite person a disapproving look, "Yeah, alright, thanks for your help, Menace," She mutters, "Bubba, look, it's really not that bad. Why don't you just try it on and see what you think?"

"No! I' gon' look like a... I' look like a bin bag!" You declare promptly, standing firm on your decision, "I' no wearin' it an' 'ou can' make me!"

Elle bites her lip to stifle her amusement.

"A big bag?" Leah repeats, baffled, "No, you won't. I think you will look adorable."

You shake your head in disagreement, "No. I' won', Mummy! An it' be itchy, an' scratchy, an' I' be smelly!"

"Smelly?" Monkey snorts in amusement.

"Yeah, I' smell 'orrible, like 'da bin!" You insist.

"Personally, and I'm just saying, my own opinion and all," Monkey begins, exchanging a cheeky grin with Leah, "I think you might as well let her wear the dino costume, cos' otherwise it's gonna end in tears, innit?

"Alright, fine," Leah inwardly groans, "I give in. Bubba, you can wear your dinosaur costume to the party tonight."

"Yeah, I' be dino'daur!" You exclaim, practically vibrating with excitement, "An I' bring all my dino'daurs into 'da living room to show 'eryone!"

"Bubba, no," Leah's eyes widen at the determination in your little voice, "We're not bringing all your dinosaurs into the living room..."

You scrunch your brows together in confusion, "No, 'ou listen! I gon' ave' me t-rex, an' me steg'saurus, an' me bron'saurus! I' have to show all of 'em!" It's very important, that each one of your dinosaurs gets shown around to everyone at the party tonight.

"You can take a few downstairs to show, but not all of them, alright?" Leah overrules your own decision in a gentle tone of voice, "You have quite a lot now, and we don't want any of them to get broken now, do we?"

You huff in disagreement, "Well then they should be more careful and no' stand on 'em!"

"Wha?" Leah blinks in confusion, "Right, Bubba, that's not the point. You can maybe bring one or two downstairs, but no more than that, okay?"

"Why' no more? I' wan bring 'em all!" You cross your arms over your chest and stomp your foot in protest, "Ou' bein' mean no' lettin' me bring 'em all down! 'Ou said I' can do that!"

Leah opens and closes her mouth, baffled by your words, "Since when?"

"Since... Since ou' said so, Mummy!" You insist, stubbornly, "I' heard 'ou say it! Ou' said I' can!" You repeat.

"No, no, I didn't," Leah retorts, shaking her head, "I said you could take a few downstairs, but not all of them."

"But 'dey all 'ave to come down, or they'll be lonely on their own up there!" You exclaim, dramatically throwing your arms up in the air, "Ou' have to 'ave 'em all!"

"I'm sure there will be just fine upstairs, bubba," Leah chuckles, shaking her head.

You shake your head in disagreement, "I' don' think so, Mummy. Ou' might hurt their feelings!"

"Bubba..." Leah looks exasperated, all but ready to give in.

"Cos' ou' can' 'ave one, an' then no 'ave the others," You cut her words short, telling her your over-the-top explanation, "Ou' can' be like meany like 'dat, Mummy!"

"I'm not... I'm not being mean," Leah mumbles in disbelief.

Needless to say, the conversation ends with you bringing down a whole bucket full of different dinosaurs, and chucking them onto the rug in the living room.

"Auntie Kei!" You exclaim, spotting the woman walk through the living room with her girlfriend, Laura, beside her. " Ou're here!" You don't waste time throwing your tiny arms around her legs.

"Ooh, hello little dinosaur!" Keira coos, scooping you into her arms and squeezing you tightly, "Did you have a good Christmas this year? Did you get spoilt lots and lots?"

"Uh huh, I got lots an' lots of new toys!" You tell her excitedly, flailing your arms in the air for further dramatics, "I' got a dino' costume. See?" You say, motioning to the outfit you're wearing.

"I do, wow," Keira playfully gasps, tickling your sides, "It's very roar-some!"

Leah appears with a drink in hand, "Ah, you guys are here!" She exclaims with enthusiasm, wrapping her free arm around Keira first and then Laura, "I see you met our little dinosaur of the night." She jokes.

"Hiya, Le!" Keira greets her best friend, "We did, and she looks absolutely adorable!"

"Mummy let me choose me outfit me' self!" You declare proudly.

"Yeah... I mean, I did try and sway her mind but well Buddy is very stubborn," Leah begins to explain, "Which I now realise is a trait she has picked up from either me or Jord, apparently."

"Oh, we could have told you that before," Holly chimes in on the conversation, holding another couple of drinks in her hand for Keira and Laura, "Personally, I think she takes after you more than she does Jord, especially when it comes to her stubbornness."

"What? Rude," Leah mumbles before she takes a sip of her drink, "I'm not that stubborn..." She retorts, mocking her offence.

"Sure, you tell yourself that," Keira snickers, thinking otherwise, "Where's the other troublemaker? It's quiet around here."

"Currently chatting Elle's ear off about whether she's watched Shrek or not," Leah explains with a half-amused smile, taking a sip of her drink, "I'm sure she'll be more than happy to see you both though!"

"We're here!" Beth announces, walking through the house with an energetic five-year-old attached to her, "We're not that late are we? Little miss here wanted to choose the perfect outfit to wear."

"No, no, you're just in time," Leah grins, wrapping her free arm around Beth and Viv, before crouching down to Rory's level, "Hi, Roo! Did you have a good Christmas with your Mummy and Mamma?"

"Hi, Auntie Le! I got loads of presents, and friends for Twix as well!" Rory is beaming a great big smile on her face.

"Roo!" You shout in excitement, wriggling in Keira's arms to get down.

Rory's face lights up even more, "Buddy!"

"Let's go an' play!" You are ecstatic to see your own best friend, Rory again, "Put me down' please, Auntie Kei!”

"As you wish, little dino," Keira obliges and sets you back down on the floor.

Beth chuckles, "At least the two of them are happy enough, Roos' been ecstatic about tonight," She tells her, before taking note of your outfit as you are set back down on your feet,  "What's with the dinosaur costume? That's an acquired outfit, eh?"

"Let's just say I know which battles to pick, and this battle with my three-year-old, well it's just better to agree to the costume rather than the full-blown meltdown I could have ended up with," Leah explains with a shake of the head.

"Sounds like you've had a fun day then," Viv laughs in amusement.

"Just another day being a parent to a three-year-old," Leah retorts, shaking her head in asperation, "Don't even get me started on the swearing jar, either..."

"Mummy puts' lot of money in 'der cos' she always sayin' words she shouldn't!" You throw Leah directly under the bus, "An Mama 'ave one now as well!"

"Oh?" Keira arches her eyebrow in amusement.

"Yeah, let's not talk about that," Leah huffs in response, taking another sip of her drink in hand.

"Come on, Roo, let' go and play!" You impatiently tug on Rory's hand, attempting to drag her over to where you'd thrown all your dinosaurs out, along with the rest of the toys out of your toy box, but there’s is always still room for more, "Mummy say no gettin' all me toys out but I' think it fine!"

“Buddy, no more getting any more of your toys out,” Leah calls aloud, shaking her head with an aspirated sigh as she hears the unmistakable clatter of toys being thrown out onto the floor again, “I might as well just talk to myself right now– Buddy, no more, please or people are going to trip over them!”

“Mm, yummy pizza!” You exclaim enthusiastically, rubbing your stomach as you sit cross-legged on the floor, happily munching on a slice, “It good, isn’t it, Roo?” You ask your best friend, your grin as wide as can be.

“Yeah, it’s good!” Rory agrees with a mouthful of pizza, nodding eagerly.

From the corner of the room, Monkey strolls over, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “Hey, kiddos!” She crouches beside you, her gaze fixed on your pizza like a cat watching a mouse, “You enjoyin’ that, little dinosaur?”

“I’ eatin’ pizza, Monks’!” You beam proudly, completely oblivious to her intentions, “Ou’ can’ have any of it! It mine!”

Monkey lets out a playful gasp, clutching her chest in mock offence, “What? Not even a single bite of it? I’m starvin’ over here!”

“Nooo!” You cry, clutching your pizza slice to your chest as if it were your most prized possession, “It mine, Monks’. No’ ‘ours!”

Monkey chuckles, but her hand moves faster than you expect. Before you can react, she pinches the tip of your pizza slice and takes a playful bite.

“Hey!” You squeal, scowling at her as you pull the now-smaller slice away, “Das’ mean! Dat’ mine!”

“Mm, it tastes even better when it’s stolen,” Monkey murmurs, licking her fingers with exaggerated satisfaction.

You glare at her, your cheeks puffing out in frustration, “No steal, Monks’. Dat’ bad!”

“Aw, come on Buddy,” Monkey ruffles your hair with a cheeky grin still plastered on her face, “Sharing is caring!”

“You can’t eat her pizza!” Roo exclaims, giggling as she keeps a tight hold of her own pizza.

“Nooo!” You huff, your voice growing louder in protest, “Mummy!”

“What’s going on in here?” Leah’s voice cuts through the room as she steps in, her hands on her hips, “Why does it feel like you two are always arguing at the minute? What’s happened this time?”

“Oh, hey, Le!” Monkey says, flashing her an innocent smile, “We’re not arguing, honest. We’re bonding! Right, Buddy?”

“Mummy! Monks’ is ‘tupid!” You accuse, pointing an accusatory finger at the teenage girl.

“Whoa,” Leah frowns as she crouches down to your level, “Hey, bubba, we don’t use words like that, do we? It’s nice not.” She tells you, her tone is gentle but still holds a sense of firmness.

“But she is though! She ate m’ pizza!” You insist, your tiny fingers still directed at Monkey like a prosecutor in court.

Leah pinches the bridge of her nose, glancing up at Monkey, “What did you do that for?”

The teenage girl shrugs, still grinning sheepishly, “In my defence… Well, I guess there is none, but the pizza tasted super good!”

“There’s plenty of pizza left, Menace,” Leah sighs, shaking her head, “You’re only upsetting her when you take her things.”

“Yeah, okay, I didn’t think that one through,” Monkey admits, scratching the back of her neck, “Sorry, Buddy. I didn’t mean to eat your pizza. Am I’ forgiven?”

“No, m’ pizza gone now!” You whine, your bottom lip quivering as you clutch the remains of your slice, “I don’ like ‘ou right now, Monkey!”

“I’m really sorry for eating it, shrimp,” Monkey looks incredibley guilty about eating the pizza.

Leah strokes your hair gently, “It’s okay, bubba. We can get you another slice, yeah? It’s just pizza, there’s plenty of it.”

“But it’ mine!” You protest, sniffling, “An’ she ate it!”

Monkey’s guilty expression deepens, “Hey, Buddy. I’m really sorry for stealing your pizza,” She says, crouching to your level, “Tell you what– How about I make it up to you with some… lemonade?”

“Fizzy pop?” You ask, your tears momentarily forgotten as curiosity takes over.

“Yeah…” Monkey hesitates, instantly regretting her offer but knowing she’s already said it.

“Yeah!” You exclaim, your face lightening up with excitement.

Leah blinks at Monkey, her disbelief evident, “Are you serious right now? It’s almost 8 pm, Menace!” 

Monkey shrugs with a custious smile, “Hey, look how happy she is now! Win-win, right?”

“Unbelievable,” Leah mutters, shaking her head, “You can have one small cup of lemonade, bubba, but no more than that. Just this once, and we’re not telling your Mama about this either, got it?”

“You got it dude!” You beam a wide smile, sticking your thumb up in the air.

It’s inching closer to midnight, but you’re nowhere near tired. You’re sitting cross-legged on the carpet in the living room, surrounded by your toys, stacking blocks and chatting to Rory with endless energy.

“Stack it’ like dat’ Roo!” You insist.

“This way?” Rory replies in question, gesturing to the green block in her hand.

“Uh huh!” You nod in agreement.

“Come on bubba, time for bed," Leah says softly, holding her hand out to you.

You cross your arms stubbornly, sticking your bottom lip out in defiance, “No' bed. I' stay up tonight with all da' grown-ups!"

Leah crouches down to your level, tilting her head, "Oh no little miss. You definitely need to get some sleep, or you'll be super grumpy in the morning, won't you?"

"I' no like that. I' be fine. I' gots to stay awake!" You insist, stomping your foot for emphasis.

Leah bites back a smile, "I think it might be a bit too late for you, bubba," She says, pointing to your drooping eyelids.

"No, I' stay 'wake. I' wish 'erybody 'appy new year!" You tell her with determination.

"Buddy,” Leah sighs, rubbing her temples, “It's going to be very late, and I might get into trouble with Mama if I let you stay up, and she finds out, hmm?"

You shake your head, "Dat' don't matter. I' stay up with everyone else!"

"Bubba--" Leah begins to speak.

"We don' have to tell her. It 'kay!" You declare confidently.

Leah shakes her head, amused but exasperated, "That's not the point, little miss..."

Keira, lounging on the sofa, chuckles at the exchange, "She's really trying to blag you there," She says, grinning.

"Oh, she definitely is," Leah replies, raising an eyebrow at your mischievous grin.

"I' stay up. Deal?" You say, holding out your tiny hand like a seasoned negotiator.

Leah laughs incredulously, "... What? No deal, bubba. Little girls like you can't stay up that late, it's bedtime for a reason, New Year’s Eve or not."

You pout dramatically, "Don' be borin' Mummy. I' no like 'ou when 'ou like that!"

"Umm excuse me little miss, I'm not boring,” Leah places her hands on her lips, feigning offence, “I am just wanting to make sure you're going to sleep at a reasonable time.”

"Come on Le, what's the harm in letting her stay up late for just tonight? It is New Year’s Eve after all, eh?" Keira chimes in, smirking.

Leah exhales a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I don't know why I even bother," She mumbles, "Fine, but if Jord questions it then it's on you to tell her!"

“It’s fine, I can deal with that,” Keira grins as she gets up off the sofa and scoops you up into her arms, “Come on my little dino, let’s go and find the biscuits in the cupboard!”

“Not too many because it’s near to bedtime– Oh, that went in one ear and out the other. Never mind…”

The living room hums with the warm buzz of conversation and laughter as Keira carries you into the kitchen. Setting you down on the counter, she holds you steady with one hand while rummaging through the cupboard with the other.

“Right then, little dinosaur,” Keira says, peering into the cupboard, “What biscuits do we fancy?”

“Da’ choc’late ones!” You exclaim, clapping your hands with glee, “Choc’late da’ best!”

Keira chuckles, pulling out a pack of chocolate biscuits and handing one to you, “Chocolate it is. But just one, alright? It’ll be our little secret, yeah?”

You nod eagerly, biting into the biscuit with a big grin, “I’ no tell! It our ‘ecret!”

Keira winks, popping a biscuit into her own mouth, “Exactly. Our secret.”

By the time midnight was approaching the party was in full swing. Laughter and music filled the room, and you were more determined than ever to prove Leah wrong by staying awake and joining in the celebrations.

Rory had long since succumbed to sleep, her head resting on Viv’s shoulder, but you were still fighting valiantly to keep your eyes open.

As the countdown began, your resolve wavered and you curled up on the sofa, a party hat sat crooked on your head, and a party blower hung limply from your mouth.

“10... 9… 8…” Everyone began to count down in the room.

But you didn’t even make it to one.

The sound of fireworks outside should have been enough to keep you awake, but it was all too much for you it seems.

“I think the partying might’ve been a bit much for her after all,” Holly quips with a grin, gesturing toward your peaceful, sleeping form.

Leah chuckles softly, crossing the room to you, “Oh, bubba,” She coos, carefully tucking a blanket around you. She brushes a stray curl for your forehead, her expression warm and tender, “Happy New Year, my little dinosaur.” She added, pressing a gente kiss to the top of your head, lingering a moment for straightening up.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[arafilez]

AFTER NEW YEAR ㅤㅤㅤ☆ ㅤ — ﹙ C.SN ﹚

WHERE to on the night of 1st Jan ㅤ,ㅤ to an empty café !

ㅤㅤ ᶻzㅤ( san x reader ) 𓂃 ㅤ barista au, strangers to ??, pg13 ㅤ oneshotㅤ warnings n.a. ㅤ��� ( 1k ) ㅤ❟❟ㅤ dear @biaswreckme i'm your secret santaㅤ .ㅤ library ㅤ atz shelfㅤ navi

The doorbell rings as San looks up at a figure slowly entering the shop when he is about to close up. He considers for a moment to tell the person it is closed but thinking back about how the sells have been for the day he decides to keep it open.

You look around the quiet café spotting the guy who is currently staring at you and feel awkward knowing perfectly the cause of his weird staring. Which person on their right minds come to a café on the 1st night of January?

People are flooding clubs and bars and here you are, walking in a small café with cottage-core aesthetic painted on the walls. You stand still, knowing there is a guy wanting to take your order but something is making you be more awkward than usual.

“Uhm, your order?” you snap out of your trance when a voice interrupts you as you stare at him. The awkwardness increases as he licks his lips and then hurriedly adds, “Ma’am.”

“Sorry, right a café latte please and the Christmas tree shaped donut,” you hurriedly reply as he nods and starts typing in the register and you stand in the warm air inside. San keeps stealing glances at you fiddling on the paying app on your phone before he types out and hands you the final bill and moves to the back to make your coffee.

You quietly pay and move to the back and sit down in one of the swiveling chairs. A few moments later you see your order slide across to you making you look up at him. San stares back for a moment before slipping into the chair opposite to you much to your surprise.

“Hi, I am Choi San,” he smiles and you stay quiet for a while before your brain kicks in and you reply, “Oh, hi I am y/n.” the air goes back to being awkward as you quietly sip on your coffee while San looks around to the walls he has grown sick of seeing.

Your eyes slowly go up to his face, making out his chiseled jaw and cat-like eyes and you had to admit the guy sitting in front of you was gorgeous. You stare shamelessly for a while, blindly munching on your donut and thinking what such a handsome guy like him was working in a café on a new-year night.

“So what brings you here on a new year night?” you jump lightly hearing his voice and look up at San’s eyes which are as wide as they can be. He was not expecting to blurt it out himself as he stutters out, “No, I mean-“

“Felt better than half-binging something while lying on my bed,” you reply nodding your head and point at the donut as you continue, “This is really good.” San nods wordlessly as you continue, “Very cliché? Okay fine, I partied last night and tonight I was just too tired today.”

You stop, wondering if you have overshared, which you probably have but you don’t care anymore as you continue, “You?” San blinks for a while before replying, “Me? I just like working.”

“So much that you are even working on new-year night?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself making him chuckle. He nods lightly replying, “Just a second.”

You watch him get up, bring out a snowman shaped donut from the display and bite it before he comes back and sits down again. “Yes, I like working that much, also I don’t want to party without my friends and they all are not available.”

“Both of our stories are pretty cliché, isn’t it?” you laugh as he replies, “Hey, not everyone’s year starts with a party.”

“True,” you nod before the silence falls again but this time it takes a comfortable hue inside the warm café. Your mind half wonders on the fact if you should take his number frankly because the guy is too cute but then again you think he probably has someone. Then it bounces onto the fact that maybe he doesn’t and that is why he is working on a café on the 1st night of January.

“Why did you come to this café?” San asks feeling a bit stupid instantly as he realises probably other cafés are not even open. You answer exactly what he is thinking- “Other cafés around here are not open.”

“Makes sense,” he replies, feeling the embarrassment flow in his veins as you watch his face get redder with each passing second. “Do you always get this much red?” you giggle as his face gets into another state of shock for the nth time that night and he nods quickly.

“Usually when I am very drunk or when well, I ask stupid questions,” he blabbers before poking his donut which seems like the most interesting thing in the world.

You murmur out “cute” hoping he didn’t catch it before sipping on your almost finished latte. San gets up after a while, putting his money in the registrar and cleaning as you bite on the remaining donut crumbs before getting up. He watches you wordlessly as you clean your hands with a napkin before voluntarily asking, “Are you a regular?”

You look at the slight red face of the guy with the tiniest ray of hope in your mind. He smiles back and you find yourself biting your tongue feeling shy as you tap your feet and look down. Looking up you find him still smiling and decide to give him an answer sufficing for now anyways.

“Not yet,” you smile a little and then nod replying, “See you again, Choi San.” He nods back grinning at the ‘yet’ as he watches you go out the door with a little skip on your step. He bobs his head lightly to the background music of the café as he does the final closing of everything. Start of a new year with a little hope in find, of everything, and maybe you in there somewhere.

Maybe he did well picking on the last shift!

ARA'S NOTES ㅤ,ㅤ hi, so i don't know how much of this worst piece of writing you will like, uhm idk you a lot, but stalking your profile i came up with piece i hope you will like. actually this is my first time even writing a barista au i don't usually write those. i hope you have a very great year of 2025. i was really happy to be your secret santa !

ㅤㅤ ᶻzㅤ( TAGLIST ) ㅤ𓂃ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added.

@haneagerr @aaa-sia @yeosayang

@weird-bookworm @gong-fourz @lucid-galaxys-world

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

[your-hockey-mom]

Happy New Year!! Could you possibly do an imagine about kissing Q at midnight? Ty!!

10:43pm. 

Was it really New Year's Eve already? It was incredible how quickly the year had flow. So much had happened between Quinn and yourself; some for the better and worse. Right now, things were bad again. Not between the two of you, but with the team and with his ability to stay healthy. After healing fully from the high-sticking, you thought Quinn was going to get back to his old self, sniping wristers from the blue line and stacking up points for a back-to-back Norris run. Sadly, he was looking at another two to three weeks of off-ice rest, not counting the time off during Christmas. 

Quinn hadn't traveled to Calgary with the rest of the Canucks and you could feel the effects of Quinn not being with his boys while you sat beside him in his living room. He hadn't said a whole lot today, nor had you pressed him for conversation. If he wanted to talk, he knew you were available. Other than that, you had left him alone. However, it was nearing an hour from the new year and you were itching for something to do. 

"Wanna get dressed up and take a walk downtown?" You turned toward him on the sofa, crossing your legs up under you. You weren't sure how your proposition was going to over, but you would remain hopeful nonetheless. 

Quinn sighed deeply, "Not really. I'm not in a 'going out' mood. I'm sorry, sweetheart." He would look up from his phone and give you a sympathetic glance. It was all over his face that he had no interest in leaving his apartment that evening. Normally, you'd share that same sentiment, but New Year's was once a year, and it wasn't often that Quinn was home for the holiday. You just thought that maybe he would want something to get his mind off the raincloud over his head.

You both had watched the game together. He was tense the entire time, like he was on the bench and completely powerless to command this team. Everything was a struggle, but when they had finally tied it up there was some hope that they could still turn it around. Unfortunately, the score would end with a 3-1 Canucks loss and Quinn shaking his head. This was two games without their captain they would lose, and another two points they wouldn't be going home with. 

Leaving him alone with his thoughts and whatever business he was doing on his phone, you tried to keep yourself awake and the collective mood in the apartment from completely going to shit. Watching any kind of movie was out, because you knew his mind would be elsewhere, but what could you do where it wouldn't be back in the arena, replaying plays and fixing errors? You'd pout as you bounced from idea to idea before you felt your stomach grumble. 

"Wanna bake some cookies?"

This would cause him to put his phone down, like it had been the magic words he didn't know he needed to hear. "I'd actually love that."

You'd give him a warm, beaming smile before hopping to your feet and excitedly hurrying to the kitchen. Now, you nervously hoped that you actually had everything needed for cookies! 

"What do you need me to do?" Quinn would ask, looking at you on your tip-toes, going through the cabinet before finally getting up to help you. 

"Can you grab the eggs and butter? We should have enough eggs.... I hope so anyway!" You remarked nervously. 

"Sure," he replied flatly, taking a moment to scan the interior of the fridge. "Anything else?"

"Nope! That's it for the cold stuff, thank you."

"Mhm."

Quinn would shuffle around to the island, taking a seat while you messed about, adding more and more ingredients to the space in front of him. You knew he was trying his hardest to come off as happy, but you knew he was having a hard time. You wouldn't press him to cheer up, and if he had wanted to go back to the living room, leaving you to finish them, it wouldn't have bothered you.

"Sorry I'm not much help," he mumbled, like he had read your mind. 

"What? Oh, you're okay, baby! I'm glad you're here, that's enough!" Your smile had brought a little glimmer to his eyes while he continued to sit and watch. Quinn had been the only boyfriend you had had where just being in the same space with him brought you joy even if you were both doing different things. You could feel him watching you, making you smile more when you had your back to him. The slight squeak of him moving back his chair had been the only indication that he was on the move. 

"What can I do to help?" He would say, snuggling in tightly to your body, making it near impossible to move anywhere. 

You'd take a minute to think of what you could have him do, but you also didn't want to take him out of his comfort zone. 

"Can you just keep doing what you're doing?"

"Just...holding you?"

"Mhm!" You giggled, reaching for the sack of flour and measuring cups, struggling to reach due to Quinn's grasp. "I'm not asking for too much, am I?"

"Not at all. I just feel guilty watching you do everything." His voice was low, and sprinkled with the sound of depression and anguish. You knew that's how he had felt watching the games he couldn't participate in: hopeless and useless. 

"Well, I can't hold myself," you laughed, overlapping your hands on his at your waist. "You're doing a great job."

Quinn would playfully scoff at you giving him a verbal gold star, but deep down, he was so thankful that you didn't ridicule him when he got in these moods. He knew he could be so hard to deal with and the fact that you took every one of them at stride meant so much. Tonight was no different. 

The minutes would tick by quickly as you measured numerous ingredients into varying bowls before finally combining them into one, homogeneous mixture resembling chocolate chip cookie dough. From time-to-time, Quinn would dip a single finger into the dough, and each time you would softly tap him on the hand.

"Baby!"

"Quality control test," Quinn teased.

"You've said that three times now! Don't make yourself sick!"

He would let his arms fall from around your body, when you hinted that you needed to move away from where you had been standing. He seemed to be in a slightly lighter mood, having peppered you with delicate kisses the whole time you worked. How you loved having him home with you, just doing silly little domestic things like a normal couple did. However, having a partner like Quinn, and his profession, you never took the little things for granted. 

"Okay, fifteen to seventeen minutes," you said, putting the filled pans into the already hot and ready oven. You'd set the timer and walk back to him as he leaned against the counter. Quinn smiled at you, taking your hands in his at his sides. 

"Now we wait?" He asked, blinking slow, like he was fighting sleep despite being awake at this time rather often. 

"Mhm, come on, baby. You look exhausted," you confessed, trying to drag him back towards the direction of the living room. 

"I'm okay. I'm afraid if I sit down I'm going to fall asleep."

You acknowledged the truth in his words before another brilliant idea came to your mind. "Oh! I know! Wait right here, 'kay?"

Regrettably, you'd let go of his hands so you could cross the room and dim the kitchen lights to a low, golden glow. 

"Alexa, play Moonlight Serenade," you'd ask, returning to Quinn's arms. 

"Playing Moonlight Serenade, by Glenn Miller on Amazon Music."

Quickly, the apartment was filled with the crackling of a vintage record recording and the 1940s orchestra that was responsible. It was an easy enough waltz to sway to in the comfort of each other's company, there in the kitchen while the cookies bubbled and baked in the oven. Quinn would smile over your shoulder the whole time, having finally been able to shake off the feelings of failure. 

"Everybody loves somebody sometime~," Dean Martin would croon through the apartment's speakers. "And although my dream was overdue, your love made it well worth waiting for someone like you~

You couldn't help but giggle. It was like the song was saying what you were feeling and Quinn held the same sentiment. Silently, you two would continue to dance together to the love songs of old until the beeping of the timer pulled you apart. You'd both turn to see that the clock also read 12:00. 

"Happy New Year's, baby," Quinn would say first, tipping your chip up towards his awaiting lips. 

"Happy New Year's!" You replied, your lips just hovering next to his. The kiss was long, and sweet and everything you wanted to welcome in the new year with. Neither of you would let the other go for several minutes after, sharing multiple more affections until Quinn reminded you of the cookies.

"I'd really hate for your hard work to go to waste. We can always finish this later," he chuckled, pulling you in for one more heartfelt kiss. 

"Well, we'll have another fifteen to seventeen minutes," you winked, taking the pans out of the oven. "Does that work for you?"

"Oh, absolutely."

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Christmas.

chapter synopsis - Christmas doesn’t feel like Christmas for you this year. Bucky’s determined to change that.

pairing - dads bestfriend!bucky barnes x female reader - soulmate au

warnings - cursing.

word count - 2.5k

authors note - I know what you’re thinking… murphy, this is a christmas chapter and it’s january 2nd. and yes, I know. I admit that I had a lot less time than I initially anticipated over the festive period to write. regardless, I hope you enjoy this. it’s a flashback, set between chapters 6 and 7 <3

series masterlist. main masterlist. inbox.

“You have icing on your face.”

You chuckle as Isabel rubs at your cheek with her sleeve, trying to be gentle but failing miserably.

“What colour?”

“Green.”

“Christmas cookies,” you say as you smack her hand away, laughing when she glares at you playfully. “The kitchen is covered in red and green icing. It looks like an elf was murdered in there.”

“That sounds festive. And morbid. And… delicious?”

“You want to take some home?”

“Yes!” she gasps with excitement. “I was telling my brother about them yesterday, he’s desperate to try some.”

“Remind me later, and I’ll grab you a box.”

“Thank you. You’re the best.”

You’re rising from your chair to return to the kitchen when Isa grabs your hand, pulling you back down. You quirk a brow at her in confusion, asking a silent question.

“You’re going home for Christmas, right?”

She’s squeezing your hand rather tightly, waiting like an eager puppy for your response.

“I, uh - yeah. I think I am. Need to make sure I get back here in plenty of time for opening between the twenty fifth and new year.”

“Girl… what? That means you’ll only be home for a few days. That’s not a real Christmas.”

“It’s okay, it’s just the way things are. It’ll be a super busy few days anyway, knowing my Mom.”

She looks at you intently for a moment, and you can practically see the wheels turning in her brain.

“We’ll cover you.”

“Isa… what?”

“We’ll cover it. Me, Stella, and we can get Justin and Mikey to help too. They’re coming to give us a hand over the next few weeks anyway, so they might as well pull their weight.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you, that’s what we’re going to do.”

“Isa-”

“Please. You’re the backbone of this place - it’d quite literally fall apart without you. The least you deserve is some decent time off with your family back home. You deserve a proper Christmas.”

You’re quiet for a moment, contemplating everything. The more you think about it, the more you’re tempted - the idea of more time with your parents and Bucky is too good to pass up.

“Only if Stella agrees. And you can’t convince her - she has to agree on her own terms.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“I should be thanking you,” you laugh, shaking your head.

“Okay, now leave.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been here since 4am. Please, go home.”

“Isa.”

“I am so serious right now. Look at my face. Look at how serious I am.”

You can’t help but laugh at her, the stoic expression she wears doing nothing to hide the amusement behind those big brown eyes.

“Fine, fine. Man, you’re bossy today.”

“I’m learning from the best.”

You hit her with your dish towel, punishment for the jab she made. She’s giggling like a maniac, skipping back to her place behind the counter.

“Isa - call me if you need anything, yeah?”

“Always.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You’ve been in the same spot on the couch for an hour when there’s a knock at your door. Reluctantly, you get up to answer it, disappointed about leaving the cocoon you’ve made so comfortable.

Your hand is on the door knob when you feel a sudden rush of warmth through your chest, spreading rapidly to the tips of your fingers and the soles of your feet. Suddenly, everything is a little bit brighter, more colourful, more vibrant. The birds are chirping louder, the sun setting in a more beautiful shade of orange than before.

He’s here.

You swing the door open to reveal Bucky, standing looking hopeful with his overnight bag in his hand. He gets even more beautiful every time you see him. His hair is a little longer, his stubble growing out slightly, freckles scattered across his golden cheeks. He looks like the sun has come down to earth and given him a kiss, just because.

“You’re here.”

“I’m here.”

He’s wrapping his arms around you before you can move, creating a safety net that blankets you both. You breathe him in, the scent of the ocean and musk and wood and home.

“What are you doing here?” you mumble against the soft cotton of his t shirt.

“Came to surprise you. Thought we could have our own Christmas, the two of us.”

“Really?” you ask as you pull back to look at him.

“Really. Isabel says you’ve been working too hard, and that you need a pick me up.”

“You talk to Isa?”

“We’re friends on Facebook.”

You laugh like you can’t help it, shaking your head at the idea of the two of them messaging each other.

“She was very adamant about sending me home today. It all makes sense now.”

“Our master plan worked,” he chuckles, stepping inside and kicking the door closed behind him.

You’ve almost forgotten how easily Bucky fits into your space, like he belongs there. He throws his bag down and sits down on your couch, sinking into the cushions like they’re moulded to his shape, ready and waiting for him to return.

“How long are you here for?” you ask as you slide yourself into his side, slotting in perfectly.

“Just a couple of days. And then I’ll see you back home for Christmas with your parents, yeah?”

“You’re coming? My Mom said she wasn’t sure whether you were or not.”

“I can’t say no to one of Lori’s Christmas dinners. I’ll come over at lunch time, give you guys the morning to yourselves. Won’t overstay my welcome, promise.”

“You could never overstay your welcome, Buck. Not possible.”

He presses a kiss into your hair, pulling you closer so there isn’t an inch of space between you.

“I got you a present. Wanted to give it to you while we’re alone.”

“You did? I thought we said we weren’t gonna do gifts?”

“We did. But I know for a fact you got me something, didn’t you?”

You chuckle, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Yes, I did.”

“Knew it. And anyway, I didn’t buy it. I made it.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him in curiosity, watching as he bounds across the living room to rifle around in his bag. When he finds what he’s looking for, he jumps over the back of the sofa, returning to his original place next to you.

“Here.”

It’s wrapped very precisely, a book sized rectangle with neat corners and careful folds. There’s a red ribbon tied around the centre, and the idea of Bucky sitting and trying to get it just right makes your heart ache.

You unwrap it gently, reluctant to undo all of his hard work. He’s watching you intently, determined to see every little reaction on your face.

Sitting in your hand is a leather bound book, with a forest green coloured cover. Your name is engraved into the front of it, carved into the material forever. You open it up to find that it isn’t blank, but contains templates of some sort, the pages covered with very faint geometric lines.

“What is it, Buck?”

He grins, turning some of the pages so he can show you.

“It’s a blank cookbook. Thought you could write down the final copies of the recipes that work after you’ve developed them, have them all in one place.”

“I love it,” you whisper, running your fingers over the pages. “What’s this pattern? On the paper?”

“It’s the blueprints. For our house.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I made them as transparent as possible, so your eyes wouldn’t get distracted. But I wanted to have a piece of us in it, to remind you.”

“It’s the most thoughtful gift I’ve ever received,” you smile, willing yourself not to cry about it. “I love it so much, Buck. Thank you.”

He leans in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, all sugary sweet.

“My turn, now. Though lower your expectations, please.”

He rolls his eyes, laughing when you shove at his shoulder. You pull his gift from the drawer in the coffee table, handing him a small box.

He opens it carefully, lifting the lid to reveal a navy bracelet, all woven and intricate. He turns it over to look at the inside, gently tracing the embroidery with his fingertips.

“They’re our birth flowers.”

“I didn’t even know I had a birth flower,” he chuckles in awe. “Honey, it’s… it’s beautiful.”

“I made it.”

His head whips up, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You made this?”

“I went to a class with Stella and Isa, it was like an introduction thing. And I knew how to embroider anyway, so that bit was easy.”

“I can’t believe you. Is there anything you can’t do?”

You’re laughing as you shake your head, dismissing his attempts to massage your ego.

“Like I said, it was a workshop.”

“I love it so much, honey girl. Thank you. I’ll never take it off.”

“Never?”

“Never,” he murmurs against your lips, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you closer. “Never ever.”

He kisses you with purpose, one hand gripping the back of your neck as the other wraps around your back to plaster you to him. You tilt your head to let him slip his tongue into your mouth, tasting the coffee he must have been drinking on the drive down.

Just as you’re about to pull his shirt up and over his head, his stomach rumbles louder than you’ve ever heard it.

“What have you eaten today?” you chuckle, carding your fingers through his hair to fix it.

“I had an early lunch, but I haven’t had dinner yet. Have you?”

“Not yet. You wanna make something?”

“Cake.”

“Huh?”

“I think we should make a cake for dinner.”

“Bucky Barnes. What is wrong with you?”

He laughs all full and warm, and the timbre of it settles nicely into your chest.

“I’ve been thinking about all the stuff I’m missing out on now that you’re here and not at home. The cakes, the cookies, the macaroons, the tarts…”

His stomach rumbles again as he clutches it dramatically, throwing himself backwards onto the couch cushions.

“And so you want cake for our Christmas dinner?”

“Yes I do.”

You can’t fight the grin that’s sweeping across your face, no matter how much you want to.

“Let me make you something to keep you going while I create the best cake for dinner you’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

A huge kiss is planted onto your cheek, joy practically radiating off your soulmate next to you.

“I’ll make myself a sandwich, honey. I know it’s gonna take you a while to line your baking tins.”

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the fact that he remembers the time you were ranting about cutting greaseproof paper and bottomless cake tins and butter versus margarine for stickiness.

“I have homemade bread in the pantry. Sourdough from the bakery.”

“That’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He’s pressing a kiss into your hair as he rises from his seat, wandering towards the kitchen to get things moving.

“This is a stupid idea,” you laugh, following him. “What kind of cake do you want?”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“I’m never going to get over this.”

“So you like it?”

“Honey. My God.”

He groans into his last forkful of cake, placing the utensil down onto his plate with a definitive clang. You’re both sat at the kitchen island, the two of you having just finished your second portion each.

“Good, because we’ve got a whole cake to finish before you go home.”

His head is resting on his hand as he looks at you with bright eyes, watching every micro expression that graces your face as if it’s a rerun of his favourite movie.

“Make sure to write that recipe in your new book. We’re making this a Christmas tradition.”

“I like that idea,” you smile as you lean over to press a kiss to his sugary lips. “I like that idea a lot.”

“Good.”

You stack the plates and are about to get up to stick them in the sink when Bucky grabs your wrist, keeping you sat down on the bar stool.

“Hey, pretty girl?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

His thumb rubs circles into the back of your hand, the touch so familiar that you almost don’t notice it at first.

“Why haven’t you decorated for Christmas?”

“Hmm?”

“I thought you’d at least have a tree, or some lights hanging. Maybe an ornament or two. But you don’t have anything.”

“Oh. Um… I don’t know. Just haven’t had the time, I guess.”

He’s looking at you like he doesn’t believe a word you’re saying. You’re not sure you believe a word you’re saying.

“It doesn’t feel like Christmas,” you whisper honestly. “Even when I was in culinary school, I’d go back home for Christmas. And now I’m here, and I have like three friends and no family with me, and it doesn’t feel like Christmas.”

A tear slips down your cheek as you sniffle, pulling the sleeves of your shirt down over your hands.

“Oh, sweetheart.”

He’s up and out of his chair immediately, wrapping his arms around you where you still sit. His familiar scent and his familiar warmth comfort you instantly, heart rate calming down ever so slightly as he holds you.

“I know it’s all new and different, but that’s the exciting thing about this, right? It’s not what you’re used to, but you have the chance to create new traditions and a whole load of new memories now.”

“You’re right,” you mumble into his chest. “I think I was so stuck on thinking about how different everything was, that I forgot that different can be a good thing.”

“Exactly. I’m here for a couple of days, and then we can go home and have the Christmas Day with your parents that you’re used to. Yeah?”

“Yeah. Buck?”

“Hmm?”

“You are the only person in the world I wanted to see when I opened that door earlier.”

“The feeling is mutual, sweetheart,” he hums as he presses a kiss into your hair. “Why do you think I drove all the way here?”

“Because you’re the best.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he chuckles, pulling you with him towards the couch. “Now come on, we need to watch a Christmas movie. You pick.”

“Love Actually,” you say without missing a beat. “It’s Love Actually or nothing.”

“Done,” he’s laughing, reaching for the remote.

“Thank you,” you whisper, lacing your fingers with his. “For everything.”

“Always. Merry Christmas, honey girl.”

“Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

[writtenbysprout]

Fireworks | Aaron Hotchner x reader

word count: 2.3k+ pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!BAU!reader tags: mutual pinning, angst and lots and lots of fluff after

You sighed softly, watching JJ's hopeful expression as she practically bounced with excitement. Her enthusiasm was contagious, but you couldn’t quite muster the same excitement for New Year’s Eve.

"Come on," JJ said as you tried to keep up with her brisk pace as she rushed toward the printer. "Even Hotch is joining."

She grinned, spinning around to face you with a knowing look. "If Hotch can have a little fun, then so can you."

You gave a small chuckle, shaking your head. "I know everyone’s going to be there. It's just… not really my scene."

"But you come to all our team celebrations! Halloween, Christmas—you’re always there."

"That’s different," you argued, keeping pace beside her. "Those are easy. This? New Year’s Eve? It’s... it’s not my holiday. I’ve never really been into the grandiose celebrations and the whole countdown thing."

JJ’s face softened, and she reached out to lightly nudge your shoulder. "But this year, it’s going to be low-key. Just dinner, wine, maybe a little champagne, and fireworks from my balcony. Nothing over the top."

You hesitated for a moment, conflicted. "I don’t know…"

"Come on," JJ said again, her voice gentle. "Think about it. Please?"

You stopped in front of her office, the printer beeping softly beside you both. You sighed and looked down for a moment before meeting her gaze. "Okay, I'tt htink about it."

The private jet hummed with the quiet buzz of conversation, the steady hum of the engines providing a rhythmic backdrop to the exhaustion that hung in the air. After the intense case they’d just wrapped up, everyone was ready for the upcoming New Year’s Eve party, but the tension of travel and long hours weighed heavy.

You sat by the window, watching the landscape pass by as the others—Derek, JJ, and Emily—milled around, catching up and joking. Hotch sat a little farther away, his face calm, though his posture remained sharp as usual.

Emily leaned in, her voice low but teasing. "Have you decided what to wear yet?"

Before you could respond, JJ gave her an elbow in the ribs. "Come on, Em. Back off a little."

The smile on Emily’s face remained, but her eyes held concern. "I just asked. No need to be defensive."

You sighed softly, leaning back in your seat. "I don’t know if I’m going."

Derek perked up, his expression shifting to confusion. "What? Why?"

"It’s just… not really my scene," you said softly. "Big parties, loud noises, countdowns—it’s not really my thing."

"You’re telling me you don’t want to come out with all of us?" JJ asked, genuinely surprised.

"I didn’t say that," you replied. "It’s just not something I enjoy. Honestly, I’d rather sit this one out. You guys deserve a break, and I don’t want to be the one dragging everyone down."

Derek frowned. "You won’t drag anyone down. We’ll lift you up if anything."

Before the conversation could continue, Hotch’s voice cut through the noise with its usual steady, firm tone. "Enough. Back off," he said, his gaze steady on the group. His tone left no room for argument.

The others fell silent, though you could feel their curiosity, still lingering. The warmth from Hotch’s concern was there, but they respected his decision to step in.

You gave a small nod in acknowledgment, taking a deep breath as you mouthed a 'Thanks' at Hotch.

After Hotch’s intervention, the ride back to the office was subdued. The jet was quiet, everyone visibly exhausted from the case, but the warmth of the team’s presence lingered in the air. Derek had tried to lift your spirits, and while his words were well-meaning, there was still a heaviness you couldn’t shake. Emily offered a sympathetic smile from her seat, while JJ and Rossi sat quietly, content with simply being there without pushing.

As the jet touched down, the tension began to ease slightly, but the unease remained. The drive back to the office was equally quiet, the city lights flashing past the windows in a blur. The conversation was minimal, the team too drained to maintain the usual banter. When you finally arrived, the office stood empty, save for the hum of the overhead lights and the faint sound of your own footsteps echoing softly on the tile floor.

The office was eerily quiet as you returned, the hum of the jet and the chatter of your team now distant memories. The faint buzz of the fluorescent lights overhead was the only sound in the room. You walked toward your desk, your mind still processing the events of the case. Your fingers brushed over the surface as you absentmindedly picked up a few scattered papers, but your gaze kept drifting. It landed on the framed photo of your dad, his image calm and familiar in the corner, but still a haunting presence in moments like this.

Lost in thought, you didn’t hear the door open behind you until you caught a familiar presence. Slowly, you turned, and there he was—Aaron Hotchner. His usual composed expression softened just slightly when he saw you, the weight of his usual stern demeanor lightening, even if only slightly.

"Thanks, for having my back back there," you said quietly, breaking the silence first.

Hotch gave a small nod, his tone steady. "They never know when to stop."

"True," you agreed, offering a small smile. "But we still love them."

"Some more than others," he said with a faint smirk, his voice low enough so you couldn’t quite make out the last part.

"What was that?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.

He shifted slightly, his gaze meeting yours. "I said don’t show up just to please the others," he clarified, his voice softer now, the humor behind his words subdued.

You exhaled softly, brushing a stray hair behind your ear. "Thanks. I was kinda feeling like I have to go."

"You shouldn’t," he said gently, his tone quiet but firm. "If you don’t want to go, or if you have someone else to spend your time with, then you should do that instead."

You hesitated, your fingers lingering on the edge of your desk. "I don’t know… it’s hard."

Hotch’s gaze softened even more, his expression warm but still composed. "Holidays are especially hard."

You nodded, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat. "Yeah… you can say that again."

"But you’re not going to be all alone on New Year’s, are you?" he asked softly, his voice laced with subtle concern.

"I was kind of planning on it," you admitted quietly, looking down again, unable to meet his steady gaze.

He paused, as if carefully considering his next words. Then, he spoke softly, leaving the statement open-ended. "If you want company…"

The words hung in the air between you, a quiet offer that wasn’t forced or expected, but there nonetheless. You felt the warmth in his voice, the understanding, and it gave you a sense of relief.

"I might take you up on that," you said finally, meeting his eyes once more.

Hotch gave a small, approving nod, his gaze steady. "You don’t have to decide now."

The sight of Aaron Hotchner in your kitchen was one you never thought you’d witness. Over the years, you’d grown to know him as a man of discipline, authority, and unwavering professionalism. So the thought of him preparing a secret dinner for New Year’s Eve in nothing but his most lounge-worthy clothes, while you sipped on a glass of red wine seated on the kitchen island, laughing at his attempts at humor, seemed almost surreal.

If someone had told you, two years ago when you first joined the BAU, that your stoic boss would, one day, be cracking jokes while cooking, you would’ve laughed in disbelief. There was no way Hotch would ever let his guard down like this—not in front of anyone, let alone in such a relaxed setting.

Yet, here you were.

He had made a last-minute excuse to JJ, opting to keep you company instead.

The soft hum of The Beatles’ melodies filled the room as Aaron moved around the unfamiliar kitchen, his relaxed demeanor at odds with the precision he usually displayed in the field. He’d noticed your LP collection before and had quietly put on The Beatles album, allowing the gentle tunes to wash over the space.

You’d offered countless times to handle dinner, but tonight he insisted, claiming he wanted to try a new recipe—something he rarely had the chance to experiment with.

So you let him have the space, knowing how much he valued the moments where he could step away from the rigidity of his usual responsibilities. The dinner he prepared was unexpectedly perfect—flavors balanced, every dish meticulously crafted—and afterward, the two of you found yourselves sitting comfortably on the couch, lost in easy conversation.

As the evening wore on, the clock edged closer to midnight, and the weight of the holiday settled in your chest. You tried to push it aside, but the memory of past New Year’s celebrations with your dad crept up on you. The first year without him felt like a gaping absence, and despite Aaron’s presence, the sadness was overwhelming.

A single tear slipped down your cheek, your gaze falling back to the family portrait on the shelf—a snapshot of a moment frozen in time with your dad, the man who had always been your rock, your best friend, the one who had always watched fireworks with you.

Aaron returned from the bathroom, his eyes meeting yours. The lighthearted mood in the room shifted as he saw the tear sliding down your face.

"Hey," he said softly, concern clouding his usually composed expression. "Do you want a hug?"

You nod immediately, your breath catching in your throat as Aaron pulls you into his steady embrace. For a moment, the world seems to pause—everything fades away except for the comfort of his arms around you. The floodgates open, and the words pour out, each memory, each longing spilling into the quiet space between you.

"It’s the first year without him," you whisper, your voice shaky with emotion. "We always used to watch the fireworks together." A soft, bittersweet smile tugs at your lips as you remember the times you would sit on the roof of your childhood home, sneaking out through the window in your old bedroom to watch the sky light up with vibrant colors. "We’d sit there, just the two of us, watching the sky erupt into every color imaginable."

Aaron holds you tightly, his presence grounding. He doesn’t rush you, allowing the silence to stretch between you as you collect yourself. The weight of the moment is palpable, but his steady embrace offers a sense of peace that you hadn’t realized you needed.

"It’s not too late…"

You pull back slightly, frowning in confusion. "Too late for what?"

"To do the tradition," he says softly, his voice calm and reassuring.

You blink up at him, still trying to process his words. "What tradition?"

"Do you trust me?" he asks, his gaze steady and unyielding.

With my life, you want to say, but instead you hesitate for a second, your heart beating a little faster, but a warm smile spreads across your face. "Yeah."

Aaron gives a small nod, leading you gently towards your bedroom. Moments later, you emerge in a simple outfit, ready to follow his quiet guidance.

Together, you make your way to the rooftop of your building. The city sprawls below, lights twinkling in the distance, but up here, it’s quiet, private. There’s no one else in sight. The fireworks begin to burst in the sky, dazzling colors lighting up the night.

The city hums below, but the roof is still, just the two of you standing side by side as the world around you is illuminated in bursts of reds, blues, and golden hues.

You turn to Aaron, the warmth of the moment filling the air between you. He watches you closely, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Your breath hitches as a tear slips down your cheek, and without thinking, you press your lips softly against his shoulder in a wordless thank you.

Aaron doesn’t flinch, simply holds you a little tighter.

"Any other traditions?" he asks softly, breaking the quiet that surrounds you.

You take a deep breath, recalling a memory you hadn’t fully shared with anyone in years. "He’d always kiss me on the forehead at midnight. That was my New Year’s kiss." You let out a small, wistful laugh despite the tears that blur your vision. "Then, he’d walk over and kiss my mom. It was their thing." You pause, the sadness creeping in again. "He was heartbroken when she passed, but he kept the tradition alive for me. Even though… it meant I never had a real New Year’s kiss."

Aaron listens carefully, the weight of your words settling between you like an unspoken understanding.

"Ever?" he asks gently.

You shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. "Ever."

For a moment, you both stand there, the quiet moment wrapping around you. Then, Aaron’s voice cuts through the stillness, steady and firm.

"Would you want one?"

You look up, your eyes meeting his, the moment shifting. It isn’t just a simple question anymore—it’s more. You realize that this isn’t just about tradition or comfort; this is something deeper. He’s offering something more personal, more vulnerable, and that thought leaves you breathless.

You nod slowly. "Yes," you breathe out, the weight of the moment sinking into your heart.

Without hesitation, he leans in, his lips brushing gently against yours. The world melts away in that single moment—no fireworks, no city sounds, just the two of you sharing something tender and meaningful. When the kiss ends, you rest your head against his shoulder again, the weight of the night finally lifting.

"Thank you," you whisper once more, your voice filled with emotion.

Aaron wraps his arm around you, holding you close as the city fireworks continue their display, but for you, everything feels different. It’s not about the grand celebration—it’s about the quiet, personal connection you share, the solace found in the smallest gestures.

[alwaysonthemend]

A/N: Happy belated new years, everyone! I hope each of you had a wonderful holiday season. Apologies for this being a day later than intended – I hope you all enjoy it.

Thank you for sticking with me even though I've been MIA lately <3

(and if you saw me accidently post this last night... no you didn't)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / minors dni / typos, probably / cussing / unrequited love (but not really) / p in v sex / unprotected sex / fluffy smut / jake being amazing

Word Count: 7k

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There was really no one to blame but yourself. 

No matter how many times you had tried to logic your way out of this being your fault… well. You always came back to the same conclusion. This was entirely, irrevocably, and utterly your own fault. 

Holidays have never been the easiest for you – seasonal depression coupled with a healthy dose of loneliness has never been a mixture that makes the Christmas season particularly enjoyable for you. Not that you weren’t learning to be okay with being single; not at all. In fact, you would much rather be alone than settle for someone who doesn’t treat you right. But something about the holidays just seems to make all that hurt and loneliness more powerful than usual. 

Christmas day had been alright – you had spent the day with a few loved ones and exchanged gifts and shared a meal. Looking forward to seeing the people closest to you had been what got you through the dreary, cold days leading up to Christmas. But now that the day has come and gone, now that you’re stuck in the weird in-between of Christmas and New Years, you find yourself particularly lonely. 

So, when you had received an invite to a company New Years party, you had been less than thrilled at the thought of spending another New Year with nosy coworkers who cared more about getting to know someone for gossip than actual friendship. You were even less thrilled at the prospect of yet another New Year of being single. In fact, you’d been quite content with skipping the event entirely, but you’d made the mistake of mentioning the affair to your best friend Jake, who had been helping you with some home renovations the week before. He had promptly scolded you for being a spoilsport, insisting on an alternative way to spend your New Years Eve. 

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“I don’t want to go alone.” 

Jake grins and rolls his eyes playfully at you. “So dramatic. Just come with me to my family’s get together, then.”

“Oh Lord no.” You exclaim. “That’s even worse! I don’t know most of them, other than Josh. I can’t just invite myself to a family function.”

“You’re not.” Jake quips, plopping down beside you on your sofa. “I’m inviting you to my family function.”

“Absolutely not.” 

Jake looks at you unimpressed, narrowing his eyes the way he does when he’s thinking. “There’s only one alternative, then.” Jake continues to stare, waiting for you to ask what he means. When you don’t give him the bait he’s looking for, he continues on anyway. “I come to your office party with you, then.”

“How is that the only alternative? I do my thing, you do your family thing. That’s the alternative.” You can feel yourself growing frustrated the longer this argument goes on – Jake may mean well, but he’s like a dog with a bone sometimes and just doesn’t seem to know when to quit… and right now seems to be one of those times. You don’t want to go to someone’s else’s family function; you don’t want to go to a stupid office party – let alone by yourself; you would much rather just be alone at home. 

“I can’t let you spend New Year's Eve at a shitty office party or alone here. That would make me the worst best friend ever.” Jake leans backwards onto the sofa, dramatically tossing his head back to rest on the back of the couch. “Besides, it’s in the contract.”

“Jake, nothing is in that damn contract. You made it up.” The Best Friends Contract was something that he had announced was in existence a few years ago in order to explain away his reasoning for always paying for your food when the two of you hang out. “The Best Friend Contract states that a good best friend must never turn down being paid for when the other is more than happy to cover.” You’d called bullshit on the first utterance but it has unfortunately stuck as his go to excuse for anything he did that you tried to argue with him about. 

“Don’t you disrespect the contract like that.” He reaches up and pinches a bit of your hair at the ends with his fingers and tugs a little. “It clearly states in the contract that a best friend never lets the other spend New Years Eve alone.” He tugs again just to be a little shit and then grins widely at you. “I don’t make the rules, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you literally do.” You swat his hand away from your hair, fighting back a smile of your own. “And besides, even if you did show up at my office party, it would end up being awkward.”

“Elaborate.” He demands, reaching up to mess with your hair again and then pouting when you smack his hand away for the second time.

“You know how nosy my coworkers are. They’ll all be asking all night if we’re dating and I’ll have to explain: no, he’s not my boyfriend; no, he’s just my best friend; and yes, he’s a guy and yes, he’s still my best friend.” You huff dramatically – you’ve dealt with it all before with him at parties or events where people can’t seem to understand that a man and a woman can be best friends without it meaning more. “It’ll be awkward and annoying for everyone involved, Jake.”

“So we pretend.” He replies simply, shrugging as if it’s an obvious conclusion. “Just say we’re together and no one will be the wiser.”

“Jake… how on Earth do you think that will be less awkward?”

He just shrugs in answer, still grinning like an idiot at you. “It’ll be fun. Like a game.” He leans in closer, his grin turning a little wicked. “Unless you're scared.” 

“Of what?” You demand, trying to ignore the way your stomach feels like it’s doing back flips when he looks at you like that. 

“Dunno.” He leans back, looking completely innocent again. “You tell me.”

You sigh, knowing that he’s already won. “Fine.” 

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The thing is, you don’t know his siblings or the rest of his extended family very well, but you know how much Jake loves them. So why on Earth would he rather come with you as a fake boyfriend to a shitty office party instead of spending time with them? You’d asked him as much… demanded, even, why on Earth he wanted to skip spending the night with his family. He just smiled at you like he’d been doing for the entire stupid argument and said it was in the contract – a best friend never lets the other spend New Years Eve alone, even if it means pretending to be a significant other.  

So here you are, waiting anxiously for him to come pick you up. You had chosen a long dress for the occasion – just a little too tight in certain areas that you normally don’t like to draw attention to, but it was a little too late now to find something else. You’d styled your hair the way you normally do, though you had added a little more makeup than usual and a glossy lip to top off the look. You’ve been ready for the better part of an hour now since you always tend to start getting ready early when you’re nervous. 

I have no reason to be nervous, you keep telling yourself, it’s just Jake. But that last part is exactly why you’re nervous. You still have no idea why he’s so willing to do this for you – why he’s content with being a fake date at an office party where he doesn’t know anyone instead of spending a fun night partying with his family. Not to mention, the thought alone of Jake in a nice suit makes butterflies erupt in your tummy.

What if he’s only doing this out of pity? What if he’s miserable the whole time? What if it’s awkward pretending to be together and he regrets ever agreeing to this? What if-

The questions swirl through your mind at such a constant rate that you’re quite sure you may vomit from the nerves before he ever even arrives. You’re moments from texting him and calling off the whole thing but then comes the knock at the door – and you know that he’s the only person it could be. 

Steeling yourself and resolving to act like a big girl, you rise up from your seat on the sofa and open the front door. 

“Wow.” The word slips from your lips without your brain being able to fully process, yet you can’t think of anything else to say. Jake has always been attractive – going from being a cute young man when you first met to the handsome one standing before you right now. The all black outfit suits him; black always does. His hair is freshly washed, the ends delicately curling against his shoulders. His usual necklaces adorn his neck, with a few extra bracelets and rings added to the ones he usually wears. 

Chocolate eyes crinkle slightly as he smiles, his head tilting just barely to the left as he regards you. “I hope that was a good “wow” and not a bad one.” He glances down, a tiny hint of shyness to the action. 

“No. It-” you clear your throat, “it was a good “wow.” You look very handsome.” You’re quick to recover, mentally shaking yourself. 

“And you look wonderful.” His eyes give you a once over, making you feel both emboldened by your choice of dress and slightly embarrassed. “I’m a very lucky man to have you as my fake girlfriend.”

The joke breaks the slight awkwardness of the moment and you laugh softly. He’s always been good at that. 

“And I’m a lucky fake girlfriend.” You grab your bag from the hook on the wall and step out into the chilly night with him. He hovers beside you as you lock your door, and then the two of you walk side by side to the warmth of his waiting car. 

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Your pulse is racing as you and Jake enter your office building. It only gets faster still as the two of you get onto the elevator. 

“Nervous?” Jake asks as you press the button for the correct floor. The doors closing feels like a curtain call of doom.

“A little.” You shrug, but Jake’s concern for you is written all over his face. “Some of my coworkers can just be a lot.” You explain, hoping that will be enough explanation for him and he won’t go digging further into your other fears for tonight. 

“I’ll just use my natural boyish charm.” Jake grins and loops his arm with yours as the elevator dings. 

“Boyish? You’re almost 30.”

Jake gasps dramatically and then tugs you off the elevator and towards the party that’s already been started for a good 30 minutes. One of the TVs on the wall has been turned to a countdown for midnight. You recognize many of the guests, though there are several that you don’t – likely other people’s plus ones that you’re sure they’ve been dying to show off. Though there’s one woman that stands out… the one woman that you absolutely didn’t want to see tonight. 

“Who are you death staring at?” Jake murmurs into your ear, startling you a little. When did he move that close? 

“Her name’s Jess. And she’s a stuck up bitch.”

“Woah.” Jake's eyes widen at your harsh words and looks back towards her, his eyes giving her a once over. “She’s definitely, um..” Her dress is skin tight and short, barely covering anything. Big hair and high stilettos makes it so that she sticks out like a sore thumb. “She’s definitely got a style.” 

You giggle a little at his attempt to be nice – in all the time you’ve known him, you can’t think of a single time when he’s ever insulted a woman’s appearance or choice of dress, even when it’s totally warranted. 

“Aaand she’s walking over here.” Jake supplies, making you scowl at him. 

“Yeah, I fuckin’ noticed.” You say lowly, clenching your teeth in what you hope is a convincing smile. “Jess! Hey.”

She smiles widely at you, flashing her overly white teeth. “Y/n! I didn’t think you would show tonight.” Her perfume is so strong you’re pretty sure you’re already getting a headache by the time she makes it to you. You begin to explain that Jake wanted to come but she’s quick to interrupt you as soon as her eyes land on him. 

“Well it’s certainly lovely to meet you.” She purrs, stepping closer to him and practically turning her back to you. “I’m Jess.” She extends her hand, which Jake shakes just barely before dropping it again. 

“Jake. It’s nice to meet you as well.” His smile is tight, mostly forced, but she either doesn’t care or is too stupid to notice. 

“Now tell me how you managed to snag this handsome young man, Y/n?”

Already your heart rate is starting to pick up, anger and hurt at her apparent disbelief that you’re dating him making you want to reach up and rip her obnoxious strip lashes off her eyes. Even though it’s the truth, your brain not-so-kindly reminds you. 

“Well, I-”

“We’ve been friends for years.” Jake interrupts you, taking a side step closer to hook his arm with yours once again. “Naturally, I fell in love with her the very first time I met her.” Those chocolate eyes find yours, a comforting warmth in them that instantly makes you feel better. “But I only recently managed to work up the nerve to ask her out.” 

His tone is sickeningly love-struck, so believable that you have to stop yourself from openly staring at him in shock as he speaks. You find yourself nodding along, more than happy to play along that you’re both in love with each other. 

“Of course, I had feelings for him the whole time, too.” You squeeze his arm a little. “Just never thought he felt the same. Turns out we were both oblivious.”

“But here we are.” Jake turns to look at you again as he speaks, those warm eyes making you feel all melty and gooey inside. 

“Here we are.”

Jess, for her part, manages to seem utterly crestfallen as the two of you speak, as if she had known Jake for years and been in love with him, too. Eventually, she turns her nose up in the way she does when she feels offended and plasters a saccharine smile onto her painted lips. “Well how sweet is that?” She asks, though gives no time for either of you to speak further. “Well, there’s still plenty of people for me to see tonight so you two enjoy yourselves.”

She’s gone before either of you can reply, disappearing and leaving nothing but the smell of her sweet perfume. 

“See?” Jake asks, tugging you towards the refreshments. “Not so bad.”

“Sure.” You scowl but gratefully take the cup of punch that he offers you. 

– 

A few other coworkers come to say hello, with the two of you giving the same performance each time you get asked how the two of you met. It gets easier, and each time it happens you can almost picture the story that the two of you weave – Jake shyly admitting he’s been in love with you, you declaring you love him back, you kiss, happily ever after, blah blah blah. It’s too easy to imagine and you find yourself wishing that you were anywhere but here with anyone but him. 

Jake glances towards you, probably noticing that you’re standing there as stiff as a board, trying to look romantic and in-love while sipping punch like it’s a secret weapon against the sheer discomfort you’re feeling. 

“Hey,” he nudges your shoulder with his, “at least try to look like you’re enjoying yourself.” 

You turn to look at him, rolling your eyes at the teasing grin that awaits you. “I don’t know how you’re doing this. This is a nightmare.”

“It’s not so bad. It’s funny watching people try to act like they’re nicer than they are.” Your heart warms a little – Jake very rarely ever complains, no matter how shitty a situation, so of course tonight is no different. His suit is a little wrinkled now from almost an hour of milling about and mingling, and his tie slightly askew in a way that’s almost charming, but also makes you want to reach up and fix it. You hate that you notice things like that about him. “Besides,” he continues, taking a sip of his own punch, “you have plenty of practice with being around these people. You should be used to it.”

You snort at him. “Yeah, well, there’s a difference between working with people and pretending that we’re, you know, in love around them.”

Jake laughs a little. “I think you were doing just fine. But our little charade has become a bit lackluster.” He grins a little, the mischievous one that he does when he’s up to nothing good. “Maybe we could work on a kiss or something. You know, really sell it.”

Your eyes widen as you choke on your punch. “I– what?”

“Okay, maybe not a kiss.” Jake adds on quickly after your reaction. “But we’re barely convincing anyone right now. You look like you’re getting ready to ask me about the office coffee order, not like you want to whisk me away for a midnight kiss.”

Okay, so maybe he’s a little right on that one. You glance around, trying to think of anything other than kissing Jake, when your eyes land on the makeshift dance floor. 

“Come dance with me.” 

“Um.” Jake answers eloquently, “I don’t dance. You know that.”

“Actually,” you begin, already tugging him forward by the arm, “I’m pretty sure that it’s in the contract that you have to dance with me.” Jake opens his mouth to say something but you speak before he can. “And don’t say it’s not. You make shit up about the contract all the time. It’s my turn.”

Jake groans. “Fine.” He mutters, scowling at you as you tug him through the people who are already dancing with their significant others. It’s only 11 minutes to midnight now according to the countdown so you figure everyone is gearing up for the big New Year’s kiss. “But only for you.”

Your stomach does stupid little somersaults when he says that but you ignore them. The room had been filled with the chatter of voices but as soon as you press closer to Jake they grow silent, as if the world beyond the two of you completely disappears. Jake stands awkwardly, his hands hovering just barely above your waist, unsure of where to land. His gaze maps out every inch of your face except your eyes and a tiny blush dusts his cheeks. 

“Are you blushing?” 

Jake scoffs, his palms finally settling fully onto your hips. “No, I’m not blushing.” He stage whispers at you, though you’re pretty sure no one is paying enough attention to have heard him. “I’m nervous. I don’t dance.”

Although you feel equally as flustered – probably more so than Jake, you feel oddly at ease this close to him. You choose not to examine that feeling too deeply at the moment. “I can tell…” you tease, taking one of his hands off your waist with your own. “We hold hands with this one.”

“Oh.” He mutters softly, his gaze flickering to your shoes. He offers his hand for you to take, looking as if he was offering a fragile gift. 

Hyper-aware of every minute rise and fall of his chest with each breath and every flutter of your own heart, you take his hand. “Right.” You answer, smiling a little at him, noticing every single detail – of his warm fingers, of their roughness, of how perfect his hand feels in yours. 

The music shifts to something a little more lively as the countdown hits 7 minutes now, though you and Jake have yet to actually start dancing.

“So, um…” You begin softly, trying to fill the silence that is quickly becoming awkward. “I guess we just… move around a little?”

Jake’s eyes find yours, comedically widened and you can’t help but laugh at the fact that this is what finally has broken his cool demeanor. 

“Right. Moving. Moving is good.” Jake’s voice is a little higher than normal and it makes you feel better about your own nerves. “We can, uh, move.”

“You lead.” You remind him, starting to move slowly back and forth with him. “Right? You’re the guy.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” He answers dryly, making you giggle. 5 minutes to midnight. “I thought you were the one who knew how to do this…”

“I do!” You answer, a bit more enthusiastic than you’d meant. “I mean, I do know how to dance. But I’m not… you know, leading.”

He takes a breath, his hand sliding down a fraction to hover over your lower back. You stiffen for just a second before your body relaxes into the contact. “Okay. Leading. I got this,” Jake mutters, his voice carrying an unexpected determination.

Your movements start out a little awkward and timid, but soon the two of you find rhythm with each other, the nerves melting away bit by bit until it feels as if the rest of the world grows muffled – the two of you in your own little universe. 

“Not so bad, right?” You ask him, glancing up into those chocolate eyes of his and trying not to get lost in them. 

“Nah. Not bad.” He smiles at you, then glances at the countdown on the wall. “Three minutes.” 

You nod, your mind suddenly filling with thoughts of what this would feel like if it was real… what it would feel like to kiss him to bring in the new year. It makes your chest squeeze to think about so you say instead, “Thanks again for coming with me to this. I don’t know why you did it… but thank you.”

“Told you… the contract.” He grins but it softens after a moment. “But really, I’d rather be with you, anyway.” 

His answer gives you pause. He doesn’t mean… right? Surely he doesn’t mean anything other than that he just enjoys your company as friends. You want so desperately to believe that it could be more. “I feel the same.” You reply quietly. “I mean that- that I would much rather be with you, too. Even at a stupid New Year’s party.”

Jake smiles, a tiny huff of laughter escaping him. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your face, smell his cologne. His eyes lock with yours and you can’t do anything but stare back. “Speaking of New Years.” His eyes cut to the countdown and then back to you. 

Everyone around you begins to count down from ten, their voices blending together – becoming muffled as you once again lose yourself in his gaze. 

9…. 

He wouldn’t be here tonight unless he really wanted to be. 

8…

He chose to be here. 

7…

With you. 

6…

His hand tightens its grip on yours.

5…

Your heart is pounding – so loud it’s like a drum pounding in your ears. 

4… 

The damn contract… years of wanting him. 

3…

God damn it, you’re tired of being afraid and he doesn’t move at all when you lean in. 

2…

His eyes flicker to your lips. Fuck it. 

1..!

Your lips hit his cheek as he turns his head at the very last second. Stunned, you pull backwards, whipping your hand from his. He looks just as surprised as you do – perhaps even more so. For a moment, neither of you move. The people around you cheer, their excited movements blurring as everything around you moves in slow motion. 

“Y/n, I-” Jake cuts himself off as you shake your head, taking a step back from him. Then another. The shame and embarrassment hits all at once, stealing your breath. “Y/n, wait-”

“No!” You shake your head again, walking backwards from him even further. “I- I can’t-” The words won’t come. Nothing you say could ever fix this. Letting instinct take over, you do the only thing you can think of – you turn and run. 

People complain and shoot glares as you shove through them, though you pay no mind to anything except getting as far away as possible from him. Distantly, you can hear him call your name again but you don’t look back. The elevator doors open and you practically throw yourself into it, pressing the close button over and over again as you see Jake making his own way through the crowd. In what you can only imagine is an act of pity from the universe, the doors close before he makes it. 

–

You manage to hold the tears in until you reach the dark street outside. Fireworks boom in the distance and you can still hear the excited chatter and whoops from inside. The hot tears burn as they run down your face, no doubt ruining your makeup. You must look a mess, but you don’t care. You glance around at the deserted street. He drove. You don’t have a car. But you can’t spend another second with him. 

“Y/n!” The building doors slam open and out he comes, his eyes wild and frantically scanning around until he sees you. “Y/n, please!”

You take off running down the pavement. Well… you take off running the best you can in the heels that you had spent so much time picking out because you wanted to impress him. Like a fucking idiot, you think bitterly. 

You barely make it 15 feet before his fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you backwards and stopping you from going further. He looks so upset, so affected that you almost fall for it. Almost. “What?” You bite out, tugging uselessly at his grip. 

“Y/n… please. Give me just one fucking minute to explain.” His voice sounds just as wrecked as he looks. 

“There’s nothing to explain. It was a stupid mistake. I don’t- I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.”

“Just one minute.” He begs and you feel your resolve crumbling. Of course it does. It’s him. 

You nod. “One minute.”

“I—” His voice breaks, cracking under the weight of his own panic. He runs a hand through his hair – the way he does when he’s stressed or upset. “I don’t know how to—god, I’m just—I don’t know how to say this.”

“I’m an idiot. And I—I’m in love with you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling out in a rush, like they’ve been stuck in his throat for years and now that they’re coming out too fast to control. “I know it—god, I don’t know why I never said it before. I don’t know how to… to keep pretending I’m just your friend when every time you laugh, or make a stupid joke, or chew on your lip when you’re thinking… it kills me because you’re my best friend and I’m not supposed to love you. But I can’t stop it. I can’t. I’m just—fuck, I’m in love with you.”

What feels like millions of emotions and thoughts hit you all at once, each one slipping away before you can pull a coherent thought together. “Then why… why did you do that?” Confusion, hurt, doubt – each one digging its fingers into the little tiny seed of hope in your chest and throttling it before it can form. 

“Because I’m an idiot.” He stresses again, his fingers tightening on your wrist. Without even thinking, you step closer to him, as if your own body is betraying you. “Because I’m scared of fucking this up or of losing you and I can’t-” he rubs his palm over his face with his free hand, his expression scrunching up in frustration. “I didn’t know what it meant. I’d made that stupid joke about us kissing and… and when I realized what was happening I panicked.” The chocolate of his eyes is dimmed, glazed over now with unshed tears. “I was afraid that maybe it didn’t mean anything. And I couldn’t- I wouldn’t survive kissing you and it not meaning anything.”

“But it did!” You insist, finally breaking free from his grasp. “It meant everything.” You wrap your arms around yourself, the chilled breeze finally starting to get to you now that you’re standing still.

“I know. I knew it as soon as I saw your face after and I knew that I’d fucked it up. I knew I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life because it would have meant everything to me, too.” His hands drop defeatedly at his sides, shoulders hanging low – the perfect picture of a man heartbroken. “Let me make it right.” The words are more of a plea, his eyes so sad that you want to reach out and comfort him. “Tell me I can make it right.”

There’s a part of you that wants to keep hiding it forever, to keep burying it deep in your chest where it can’t hurt you. But the louder part of you is tired of waiting, tired of burying it, tired of being afraid. 

“I forgive you,” you take a step towards him, closing the gap that had felt like it stretched out for miles, “and I understand why. And I- I love you, too.”

Your eyes flutter closed as his lips find yours at last, his hands finding your hips and guiding you closer to him. You can feel the heat of his skin, the heavy rise and fall of his chest. You can taste the fruity punch from earlier on his tongue, coupled with the taste of him. And you want more of it – more of everything. You want to touch every inch of his skin in the way you’ve always wanted but never been allowed. 

He pulls away after what could have been minutes, hours… you can’t tell. All you can focus on is the feeling of him. “I will spend a lifetime making up for what I did to you tonight.” He murmurs, resting his forehead against yours. “I will spend a lifetime making sure that I never see that look on your face ever again – by my own actions or someone else’s.”

“A lifetime?” You ask, loving the feeling of the word on your tongue. A lifetime. A lifetime of him, said so simply – as if he cannot fathom any other ending after this. 

“Two lifetimes,” he continues, “three, even. As many as it takes.” His grin turns a little wicked. “Starting with tonight?” 

The sudden wave of desire that hits you almost makes you dizzy – you feel yourself nodding, you feel the heat rising from between your thighs and spreading throughout your body like a wildfire. Years of waiting, of wanting. And now you have him. “Take me home, Jake.” 

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉

Your heart is pounding as the two of you tumble through the front door of Jake’s home, both sets of hands exploring each other as his tongue explores your mouth. The ride here is hazy, nothing but a blur as Jake kicks the front door shut behind you. You’ve been to his house plenty of times before so you pay it no mind as Jake starts leading you further into the house and towards the stairs, knowing that his bedroom lies waiting for the two of you upstairs. 

You both stumble at the top of the landing, nearly falling over and making you giggle. Jake grins, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards his room. He kicks that door shut, too – and then he’s on you once more, gently pushing you back to the wall. His body cages you in, the feel him pressed so closely making you feel weak in the knees. 

“Is this okay?” He asks lowly, his fingers delicately tracing your skin at the tops of your thighs, just barely dipping underneath your dress. Compared to the kiss the two of you just shared, it’s an innocent action, but it feels even more overwhelming because it’s him doing it. At your nod, Jake’s hands continue to explore, his rough fingertips moving higher up and hooking in the elastic band of your panties. “And this?” You nod again and he tugs them down your legs and you step out of them. “Tell me what you want.” Chocolate eyes, almost black, lock onto yours. 

“I want you.” You answer him, finding yourself just as breathless as a teenager during her first time. 

“As much as I’ve dreamt of hearing that,” he murmurs, “more specific.”

You feel your cheeks grow hot, the words that want to spill out seeming crude in such a delicate moment. But the unbridled want in his eyes makes you say them anyway. “I want you to fuck me.” 

He growls a little, a deep rumble in his chest, at that. His hands find your waist and he guides you away from the wall, gently pushing you to the bed. The edge of the mattress presses into the backs of your knees and he guides you to sit. 

“That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” He answers, sinking down to his knees on the floor in front of you. Deft fingers wrap around your ankle as he lifts your foot slightly and begins to undo the straps of your heels. “But I won’t be doing that tonight.” He lifts your other foot and you glance down at him in confusion. “There’s a million things I want to do to you,” he continues, both shoes now off and placed neatly by the nightstand. “Kiss you, taste you,” he rises, stepping between your parted thighs, “but I won’t be fucking you. I don’t want to do that to you tonight. Ask me what I want to do to you.” He demands softly. 

“What,” you can’t help but stare at him, your heart beating so fast you fear it may burst from your chest, “do you want to do to me?”

He grins like a kid in a candy store. “I want to make love to you.” He slips his fingers beneath the straps of your dress and slides them down off your shoulders. “Is that okay?” 

Lifting your hips as he helps you out of the dress, you nod. “More than okay.” Summoning every ounce of bravery you have, you reach out and slide his jacket off his shoulders. It falls to the ground alongside your dress. You grab his tie and haul him closer, crashing your lips to his. Frantically, you help him undo the buttons of his shirt, then his slacks, leaving both of you in nothing but his boxers.

“Let me look at you a minute.” He breaks the kiss and pushes you backwards onto the bed. You do your best attempt at scooching backwards in what you hope is a graceful, sexy way, but he pays it no mind. His eyes roam your skin, lingering on your bare breasts, then down to your exposed pussy. You want to cover yourself, to hide yourself away from his piercing gaze but he stops you from moving away with his palms settling on your knees. “Don’t do that,” he whispers, spreading your thighs further, “don’t hide from me. You’re perfect. Stunning.” 

Jake lowers himself between your legs, his arms hooking under your thighs and pulling you closer to him. His eyes lift to yours. “Let me taste you? Please?” He begs, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. 

It’s the “please” that gets you, slick dripping out of you even more. You nod your head. He presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh. Then the other side. Then a little higher. Hips squirming, you mutter his name. “Don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing.” Another kiss, this one closer to where you want him, but still too far. “I’m taking my time. I want to remember every second.” 

Finally, his tongue laps against your aching clit and you cry out, one hand fisting in the sheets and the other reaching down to tangle in his hair. Jake moans against you, his eyes closing in concentration as he circles your clit, toying with you, seeing what movements make you squirm the most. His brows furrow as he dips lower, his tongue pressing just barely into your entrance before swiping back upwards to your clit. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever done before – he’s unlike anyone you’ve ever had before. He’s paying attention, finding what makes you tick and using it to coax the warmth in your lower belly to spread. 

You feel yourself arching upwards, grinding your soaked pussy against his mouth. He groans into your heat, two fingers now prodding at your entrance as his tongue never lets up. His fingers press in deeper, stretching you out as you climb higher and higher to a peak that you know you won’t return from. Cracking your eyes open, you peak down at him again, and you can barely stand the sight that awaits there. His eyes are still closed, his brows drawn together with determination. His mouth attached to your clit and his fingers hidden inside you, curling so deliciously. But what really gets you – the final nail in the coffin that sends you so deep into pleasure you fear you’ll never return, is the way his hips grind desperately into the mattress, as if the very act of bringing you pleasure has rendered him unable to wait for his own. 

“Jake, I’m gonna come.” You warn him, and he only nods his head in answer, his tongue working harder and his fingers faster at your broken warning. Your orgasm is a steady build, starting deep in your belly and working its way outwards, engulfing every nerve-ending with white hot pleasure. Distantly, you hear him moan as your thighs tighten around his face, as your walls clench around his fingers. 

Your body is trembling when he finally pulls away, his fingers then instantly being brought to his mouth. He sits up, his eyes closing again as he licks your release from them before they open again and find your dark gaze. He gives you a lazy grin, his chest and face flushed. “I knew you’d taste sweet.” He tells you, climbing his way upwards towards you to kiss you. You can taste yourself on him and you already want more of him. 

“I need you inside me.” You demand, your hands mapping out every inch of his skin that you can reach before hooking in the waistband of his boxers and tugging them down. 

Every inch of him is just as perfect as you’d imagined it to be. A perfect length and mouth-wateringly thick. His swollen head is flushed and glistening with precum. Slightly bashful, he leans down and kisses you again. 

You reach between your bodies and wrap your fingers around him. He draws back and whines, his body going tense as you work him a little, smearing his precum over his throbbing length. “Fuck, Y/n.” He mutters, placing his forearms on either side of you. After a few pumps, you guide him between your legs, lining him up with your entrance. He starts to press in slowly, his lips wrapping around your left nipple and sucking softly as he sheaths himself inside of you. Both of you cry out softly, your quiet, panting breaths mingling with the other’s. He fills you perfectly, the stretch so delicious you never want to be without him inside you again. “You feel…” He never finishes, instead moving over to suckle at your other breast. 

“Move, baby.” You beg and he instantly obeys you, drawing out from you and then pushing back in, his pace slow but pointed and powerful. Your hands grip his shoulders, sliding down to hold tightly at his biceps as he rocks into you. 

He pulls away from your tit to look down at you, his pupils so wide his eyes look black. The bed frame creaks with each powerful thrust of his hips. “I won’t last with you looking at me like that,” he murmurs, seizing his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby.” You fight to keep your eyes from fluttering shut – you want to see his face, to see the way it contorts and twists in pleasure. 

“You feel even better.” He brings his thumb up to your lips, dragging it across your bottom lip before pressing into your mouth. You suckle at it, moaning around it. He moans too, then pulls the digit from between your lips and drops his hand to rub your swollen clit in time with his thrusts. “Need you to come first, angel. Wanna feel you squeeze around my cock.” 

You can feel your second orgasm building, your body starting to tremble as he starts to move faster, his cock twitching inside of you as you both near the edge. His lips part, desperate little groans filling the air between you as he fights back his own release. “Please, baby.” He urges, and that’s all it takes. The band inside your belly finally snaps, your vision going white around the edges as your orgasm rocks through you. He thrusts into you frantically, working you through your release before pulling out of you, ropes of hot cum painting your lower belly as he finishes. 

Both of you are left panting, the meaning of what just happened and the weight of what’s been confessed tonight settling over the two of you like a weighted blanket. 

“I love you,” Jake offers, pressing his lips to yours for another kiss, “and I’ll keep kissing you as many times a day as you’ll let me to make up for the one I didn’t give you at midnight.” 

You can’t help but grin up at him, already knowing that no one could ever hold a candle to the man who’s gazing down at you with nothing but reverence in his eyes. “I love you, too.” 

✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉༝✧✧༝┉˚*❋ ❋*˚┉

Fin

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[moxanji-real]

Happy Holidays! Here’s my drawing to celebrate both Christmas and New Year’s—sorry it’s a little late!

Sanji, I just wanted to say… thank you. Thank you for being my light, my savior , the one good thing that’s kept me going through everything. Every year with you feels like a gift, and I can’t express how grateful I am for you. You’ve been my reason to keep moving forward, my motivation to hold on, and my reminder that love can make everything feel worth it.

No matter what anyone else says, you’re mine, and I’m yours. They might not understand how beautiful our bond is, but that’s okay—because I know we’re meant to be. You’re my heart, my everything, and I love you more than words could ever say.

I’m so happy to share these moments with you—kissing you under the mistletoe, feeling your warmth as we welcome the new year together. Here’s to another year of love, Sanji. I love you so, so much. Always.

Tag list:

@lances-wife @starshakez @flusteredladylover @vergils-beloved

You can be asked to be added at any time! ^^💞

[kenobiwanx]

Happy New Year!!! 🌟

First of all, I want to thank each and every one of you. Thank you for supporting me and my art. This past year was a good one for me, and that's thanks to all of you!

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I live by my art. This is my full-time job—it’s what pays my bills. And 2024 started off great: I received commissions every single month, something that hadn’t happened in previous years. That was a huge change for me, truly life-changing. I’m so grateful to everyone who decided to spend their money on my art, to trust me with your ideas, characters, and stories. It means SO much to me, and I say this from the bottom of my heart. I put everything I have into creating the best art I can for you, truly. When you message me saying how much you loved it and how much my work means to you, I cry for real. It moves me deeply. So thank you for all the kind words and support.

This is going to be a long message because I feel like I need to thank you and share a bit about myself. So, if you read all of this, you're a warrior, lol.

I don’t usually share much about myself or my personal life, but here are a few things. Well, I’m from Brazil—you probably already know that. I’m a self-taught artist, and honestly, I’m like that with everything I know how to do. I love learning on my own with the resources I have available. When I set my mind on doing something, I go all in. Drawing came into my life as a form of therapy, a way to focus on something other than my negative thoughts. I’ve always been a very anxious and depressive person and went through a lot of trauma that made things worse. Since I didn’t have the resources or support to seek professional help, I tried to find my own way—and that’s how I learned to draw!

I won’t say I’m 100% okay now because life hasn’t been easy for me. I lost my mom to breast cancer six years ago, and it had a massive impact on me and my mental health. She was my rock, my world, and losing her was devastating. She fought the disease for five years, and during that time, I was the one taking care of her, keeping the house running, and looking after my two younger siblings. I was just a teenager, but I suddenly had so many responsibilities. It messed me up a lot, but if I had to do it all over again just to have more time with my mom, I would.

I wish she were here to see how far I’ve come with my art because she was the only one who supported me back then. I know she’d be so proud of me for not giving up.

I used to do realistic traditional art before, spending a whole month on one piece. It was fun for a while, but it was just a hobby—I only sold a few pieces to family members. Then, in 2020, during the pandemic, I decided to switch to digital art. I wanted something that gave me more freedom to express myself creatively, and digital art offers that. So, I started learning. And guess who became my muse for this journey?

Yep, Pedro Pascal, lol. From my very first digital drawing, he was my go-to subject. And let me tell you, those early drawings weren’t great, poor guy, lmao. But thank God, I improved! I’m still drawing him to this day, and he’s been a huge reason I’ve gotten so many commissions since most of them are of his characters. I’m incredibly grateful to him and the roles he plays.

Anyway, I’m working on rebuilding myself, trying to move forward, achieve my goals, and take things step by step. This Christmas, I was able to buy a huge drawing tablet, which was a big milestone for me. I used to do everything on a small tablet, so this was a major upgrade—and it’s all thanks to everyone who commissioned me this year. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I hope 2025 will be just as good. I hope you’ll all stick with me and keep asking for commissions, lol. I wish you all the best in life, that you achieve everything you dream of, and that you stay healthy. Please take care of your mental health too; it’s just as important as your physical health.

I have a lot of personal projects I want to work on this year—art ideas I’ve set aside for years that I hope to finish in 2025.

This year, I plan to open commissions every month. The only exception will be if my waitlist gets full before I open them officially, like who Dm me to reserve a slot earlier, which happened in December. My DMs are always open!

I’ll also be updating my price sheet, adding new information to my terms and conditions, and increasing my prices. It’s been about two years since I last updated them, so it’s time. But don’t worry—it’ll only be an increase of about $10-$15. I still want to keep my art affordable for everyone.

I’ll sort all of that out in the coming days, so stay tuned for updates!

My January waitlist is already open, and there are a few people in line. If you want to reserve a spot, feel free! Just keep in mind the price adjustment I mentioned earlier.

I think that’s everything! I know this was a lot of text, lmao.

Thank you again, everyone! Happy New Year, and I love you all! And I love you, Pedro Pascal!

[thezombieprostitute]

Sooo, I got this thought and think I share it with you… I know Christmas is over but the thought is there, so it’s Christmas now🙂‍↕️😂

What if… Jake wants to make all pretty for Christmas and when you come home from shopping you find him underneath the Christmas tree stuck in the lights that are supposed to be in the tree.

And you make a joke about it, while he blushes and confesses that he got stuck somehow?😂🥺

Considering I have yet to put away my Christmas tree (I'll be doing it next week) I'm gonna say it's not too late for a Christmas idea.

You'd been having so much trouble getting into the holiday spirit this year. More people to buy for with less money to spend. Exhausted physically and mentally but still having to push yourself to bake, work and meet with friends and family. You just weren't feeling it this year.

Jake was incredibly worried about you. Every year at Christmas you'd never failed to at least somewhat get into the spirit, to play Christmas music while dancing and baking. But he saw your exhaustion and frustration this year.

So he decided to do a little something to help you.

Knowing how much you enjoyed the Christmas tree, especially with the Christmas lights on and the apartment lights off, he decided to start there. You always said you found it so peaceful to just sit and look at the pretty lights and you could use some peace right now.

He sets to, bringing up the tree and decorations from storage. Mentally he goes through the checklist, making sure he adds elements in the same order as you. He's pretty sure it's tinsel, then lights, then ornaments. But it might be lights, then tinsel, then ornaments.

Jake opts to start with the lights but soon has trouble making sure they're properly distributed so he plugs them in so he can see his progress. He ends up so focused on how the lights look in the tree he fails to notice the strings wrapping around his legs as he steps here and there to reach around the tree.

He goes to take another step and staggers, grabbing onto the tree to keep from falling, only to take the tree with him, pinning it against the wall.

Jake takes a breath to steady himself and assess his situation. He's definitely stuck. His feet are trapped in the cords and if he tries to push himself away from the wall, he's going to fall on his back, if he's lucky.

That's when you walk in.

"JAKE! Oh my god, are you okay? What do you need me to do?"

Jake smiles at the fact that your first instinct is to help, not to laugh. With your help he's able to right himself without breaking the tree or tripping on the lights.

It's only after he's finally sitting down and assuring you he's okay that you finally let out your laughter.

"I should've taken a photo," you shake your head. "But I was so worried about you!"

Jake gives you a big hug, "that's because your a good person who makes sure I'm okay before laughing at my stupidity."

"Can I ask why you were setting up the tree without me?"

"You've been so tired and stressed about the holiday. I wanted to do something to help you get into the spirit. I know how much the tree lights help---"

Jake is cut off by you giving him a big kiss. He eagerly returns your energy and almost whines when you pull away.

"Thank you, Jake. I really appreciate this."

His smile grows, "anything for you."

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly; @thiquefunlover63

[jennaispunk]

I’m not one to toot my own horn or bring attention to myself but I was inspired by the lovely @jolapeno (ilysm 💜💜), @wethairjoel, @sawymredfox (ily bestie!! 💜), @toomanystoriessolittletime and others, I decided to post my own favorite things.

2024 was the year I started writing fic. I posted my first story in February and the rest is history. My journey has had its ups and downs (self-doubt, writers block, etc) but I wouldn’t change a thing. I’ve made some wonderful friends in the Pedro fandom (too many to tag) and I’m grateful for each and every one of you and all your shenanigans. 🤪

Now, for the things:

Just Another Saturday Night- The first fic I ever posted and it was for none other than Javi P for Space Sisters Valentine’s Day Exchange. I love writing for Javi. This was a fun story to write about Javi and reader baby sitting for Steve and Connie on Valentine’s Day and their feelings are revealed. Javi singing to Olivia will live in my head rent-free forever.

Like the Rain- my first Frankie fic. If you don’t already know, I love Frankie, and I mean LOVE (I really should write more for him). This one was for @guiltyasdave 1.5k kisses challenge and the prompt was kisses in the rain. If you don’t know by know, I love Frankie, and I mean LOVE. I really need to write more for him. This little story was ultimately about Frankie learning to accept love and the rain provided a good metaphor for washing the slate clean and starting again.

A Symptom of Being Human- my first Joel fic. This one was a bit different for me because it was the most heavy thing I’d written up to that point. It dealt with loss and panic attacks and I cried while writing it.

It’s Only Make Believe- my first Dieter fic written for @burntheedges Roll-A-Trope Challenge. My prompt was fake dating/relationship. This one was a bear, y’all. I struggled with this one quite a bit and it’s my longest fic to date. I had a hard time finding Dieter’s voice but I think I managed okay. This one made me fall for Dieter even more (and also made me rewatch the Bubble 🤣) and I’ve written two more fics for him since then.

Amid the Falling Snow- My first Ezra fic. Ezra has always been a favorite of mine but I had shied away from writing because I was nervous I wouldn’t be able to capture his voice. After a few rewatches of Prospect (a terrible thing to have to do I know 🤣) and some reading some fantastic resource material from @morallyinept, this just flowed out of me. I think I really found my stride here in terms of being able to paint an image with my words.

Miller’s Christmas Tree Farm- I tried something new this year: co-writing. This was a piece of Joel Christmas fluff I wrote with @toomanystoriessolittletime. I had so much fun writing this with you and I hope we can team up in 2025 to do it again!!

I also made a few moodboards (not related to any of my fics) that I’m proud of.

Frankie and Mouse- for @beefrobeefcal. Frankie and Mouse will always be one of my favorites and I will ship them until the day I die. This series has it all: smut, humor and tears.

Jagged Scraps of Him- for @moonlitbirdie. This was the first Ezra fic I read and boy did it blow me away. I love the way Birdie writes Ezra. If you haven’t read it, what are you waiting for?You can find the fic on A03 if you’re a registered user. I’m posting the moodboard as I pic because I can’t link it.

I participated in quite a few writing challenges this year (some of which I mentioned above) and helped me grow as a writer. I’m looking forward to the writing challenges you all come up with in 2025!

I stepped out of my comfort zone a bit in 2024 and participated in @morallyinept’s Pike’s Pick-n-Mix, where I was paired with the amazing @beefrobeefcal who I’m blessed to say became a good friend. ily Beef!! 💜

I also participated in Pedro Scouts. @goodwithcheese-Thank you so much for all your hard work and dedication into creating such a welcoming and fun space for the fandom. Scouts Summer Camp was probably my favorite part of this year. The shenanigans and group activities were hilarious and so much fun. Because of summer camp, I met @jolapeno, who has become a good friend. I’m truly blessed. 💜

I can’t say goodbye to 2024 without thanking all of those who have supported me, laughed with me and shared thots with me. I can’t tag you all because there are just too many. Here’s just are just a few that I haven’t already tagged and/or mentioned in this post who have made my 2024 worth remembering:

@whocaresstillthelouvre @secretelephanttattoo @bitchesuntitled @artsy-girl-76 @sixhours

@mothandpidgeon @yopossum @tinytinymenace @hellfire-state-of-mind @maggiemayhemnj

@romanarose @perotovar @toxicanonymity @wordywarriorwrites @mando-abs @timelordfreya

Here’s to a great 2025 for all of us!!

Much love,

Jenn 💜

[malk1ns]

december 28 @ islanders, 6-3 loss

playing this team is so fucking BORINGGGGGGG oh my god.

i received confirmation this season that geno is still the penguins' finemaster (click here for more info on what that entails) and is just as much of a cheerful bully about it as you'd expect him to be.

Losses are always deflating. Nobody who’s made it to the National Hockey League is ever okay with losing a game, any game, even if they’ve gotten better at processing how they feel about it.

Some games are definitely easier than others, though, and a road game after Christmas break definitely qualifies, especially when Sid feels like perhaps the final score doesn’t quite reflect their quality of play. Plus, they have a chance to get their own back in less than 24 hours.

He keeps an eye on the team as he changes out of his gear, but the mood is light—seems like most of the guys feel the same as he does.

“Hey!” Geno calls, standing on the bench and banging on the side of his stall. “Hey, assholes, quiet. I’m nice all month, okay, know you all need to buy good gifts for your wives because you’re not nice—” there’s an eruption of jeers and teasing at this, which Geno allows for a second before banging on his locker again, “—I’m not make you pay your fines all December. But it’s new year soon, need to balance the books, and I have list.” He waves his phone in the air.

“Fuck,” Bunts mutters from down the row. Sid stifles a smile as he hangs up his shoulder pads, patting OC on the shoulder as he drops into his seat.

Geno’s been finemaster since Sid was out with his concussion and neck issues. He shared duties the season after they won their first Cup, but the season before the lockout he took over full-time, and he does this every year—gets lax with assigning fines as they approach the holidays, takes IOUs and deferrals without any argument at all, but the whole time he keeps a ledger, noting down who hasn’t paid and who’s still committing fineable offenses.

Kris learned about Krampus a few years ago. Geno protests when Kris calls him that, but Sid knows he likes it.

Geno’s recitation of fines owed starts on the shuttle to the airport and is still going when the plane touches down in Pittsburgh. He goes easy on the younger guys, he always does, but the vets are hit especially hard this year—even the most minor case of tape-hoarding earned a spot on Geno’s naughty list.

Once they’re ready to de-board, Geno heads off the plane first, making a show of plugging in his Square card reader amid the team’s groans. He stands at the bottom of the stairs, holding everyone up until they either fork over the cash or swipe their card to pay what they owe.

Sid takes his time getting his stuff together, smiling blandly when Kris shoots him a disgusted scowl as he makes his way to the front of the plane.

Kris knows about him and Geno. Sid doesn’t remember how exactly he found out, but he’s kept their secret for years now. Being trustworthy, though, doesn’t stop him from being nosy, and then acting like the intimate details he��s cajoled out of Sid or Geno after encouraging them to get tipsy and spill their secrets are some disgusting burden he’s stuck with.

It’s his own fault that he knows the game Sid and Geno play when the end-of-year fines are collected.

Sid ends up shivering in the sharp breeze halfway down the stairs as Karl tries to argue his way out of one of his infractions at the base. Geno holds firm, though, brandishing his phone and scrolling rapidly through his photo album with some sort of evidence, and eventually Karl relents, digging out his wallet and counting cash into Geno’s waiting palm.

Nobody else puts up a fight, and by the time Sid reaches the bottom of the staircase, the rest of the team has scattered, heading home to rest and recharge before tomorrow’s game.

“Well, Crosby? Cash or card?” Geno says, holding up his phone and waggling it in Sid’s direction. On the screen is a notes app list of all of Sid’s crimes over the last four weeks. It’s a lot longer than what Geno read out in the locker room on Long Island.

Sid looks up at Geno through his eyelashes. “I don’t have any cash on me, and my card got frozen—fraud,” he murmurs, quietly enough that Geno has to bend closer to hear him. “Isn’t there any other way I can work off my debt?”

Geno frowns at him. “Sid,” he chastises, tucking his phone into his jacket pocket. “What’s the guys say if they’re find out I’m not make you pay? Not fair, you know.”

“C’mon,” Sid wheedles, shifting closer to Geno so their body heat bleeds together. “I’ll make it worth your while.” He slides his hand into Geno’s jacket and down, groping over where his dick is half-hard in his suit pants.

Geno shudders, pretending to think about it. “Don’t know, Sid, you’re owe a lot of money,” he points out, and Sid breaks character for a minute to glare—he knows he didn’t do that much to get fined over this month. Geno smirks back at him.

Glancing around to make sure they’re alone, Sid leans up and puts his mouth to Geno’s ear. “I’ll make it worth your while,” he says huskily, smiling when Geno shivers.

—

They drop the act in the car ride home. Geno complains about the refs calling back that goal, and Sid gets out some cathartic bitching about Cizikas. They spend more time talking through what went right in the second period than anything else—the coaches will go over the bad stuff and breakdowns in video tomorrow morning.

That continues into the house, where they grimace at each other in the kitchen as they choke down the protein shakes the trainers assigned them this season, all the way up into the bedroom where they go through their nighttime routines.

When Sid emerges from the bathroom after brushing his teeth, Geno’s leaning against the wall across from their bed. He’s naked, and still mostly soft, but he’s playing with himself, and Sid zeroes in on his hand where it’s stroking slowly over his dick. “Time to pay up,” Geno says, and when Sid jerks his gaze up to meet Geno’s eyes, Geno’s smirking. Smug bastard.

Sid’s mouth waters. “I could blow you,” he rushes out, crossing the room towards Geno. “Let me…” But before he can get too close, before he can drop to his knees between Geno’s legs and get his mouth on him, Geno puts out his free hand and stops Sid in his tracks, nodding over at the mattress.

Sid looks over his shoulder, just now noticing the lube out on the nightstand, the open bottom drawer where they keep their toys.

“You owe lots this year, Sid,” Geno says, gently pushing Sid backwards. “You want to suck me? Fine, okay, maybe that’s part. But it’s not enough. For the rest, you get on the bed, touch yourself, show me what you like. Then maybe you work off enough to get my dick.”

“Fuck,” Sid mutters, palming himself where he’s getting hard. Geno’s voice is even, almost bored, like this is any other fine transaction. When Sid looks at him, he arches an eyebrow.

It’s a challenge. And Sid always rises to a challenge.

Geno wants him to prove himself, to earn it? Sid can do that.

It takes him a little bit to settle when he gets onto the mattress. This isn’t something they do, really—Sid’s never been much of an exhibitionist, and Geno’s always so eager to get his hands or mouth on Sid that he’s never really asked for this.

Sid feels exposed, leaning back against their pillows with his thighs parted as he pours lube into his palm and takes himself in hand. Geno’s staring at him, eyes half-closed as he lazily touches himself, and Sid matches his pace at first, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

It doesn’t take long to sink into it. Geno’s gaze feels good, the sharp intakes of breath Sid can hear from across the room as Sid starts to show off a little, tries to make it look hot only egging him on.

Geno likes a lot of lube, likes to make them messy, so Sid pours more onto his hand, slicking up his fingers so that every stroke sounds loud in the room.

Sid gets all the way hard pretty quick, and the way he’s spread out for Geno makes him itchy. His hand on his dick isn’t enough, not even when he starts playing with his balls too, tugging at them meanly like Geno usually does.

He shifts his hips, and Geno notices. “Put pillow,” he says hoarsely, “and get from drawer.”

Sid whines, but he does what Geno says, rolling to his side and groping through their nightstand until his hand closes around a familiar toy—nothing too big, he’s not sure he has the patience it would take to open himself up for some of the stuff they have, but one with a curve that hits him just right.

His hand shakes as he spills lube over it, and Geno makes a strangled sound when Sid tucks a pillow under his hips, spreads his legs, and pushes the tip into himself.

He’s going too fast, especially since they have a game tomorrow, but he feels desperate, and when he opens his eyes Geno’s touching himself in earnest now, hand moving over his dick steadily.

“Please,” Sid gets out, licking his lips as he works the toy further into himself, hissing when it hits his prostate too hard. “Have I—is this enough, please can I blow you now, Geno—”

“No,” Geno says, working himself over with little grunts that Sid can practically feel, all the way from across the room. “Not enough. Fuck yourself, Sid, let me see it.”

Sid moans as he sinks the toy in further, twisting it so the curved tip rubs over his prostate with every thrust. It’s too much too fast, and he’s going to be sore tomorrow, but Geno wants a show, and Sid’s going to give it to him.

He loses track of the game as warmth builds low in his stomach. The hand on his dick slows as he gets into the feeling of fucking himself, clenching his thighs as they start to shake with every pass over his prostate. He can’t always come just from penetration, but this is really doing it for him, being spread out like Geno’s personal porn, and he thinks he can get himself there.

Sid can feel it building, arches his back and clenches around the toy as he speeds up his pace. Yeah, this is gonna be a good one.

“Stop,” Geno’s voice is shaky and turned-on, but Sid jolts, hand going still almost on instinct. “Sid, stop, come suck me off, now.”

Sid moans, but this is what Geno wants, so he pulls the toy out and staggers across the room, dropping to his knees between Geno’s thighs and opening his mouth.

Geno feeds Sid his dick, and Sid lets his eyes drift closed. He’s keyed up, trembling slightly from how close he was to coming, but he knows how to do this, knows how to relax his jaw and angle his head to let Geno’s dick slip into his throat, knows how to keep his lips and tongue soft so that when Geno finally thrusts into him, he groans long and loud above Sid.

“So good,” he praises, threading his fingers into Sid’s hair and holding his head still. “Baby, so hot, fuck, take it—” He trails off into Russian, and Sid lets the sound wash over him, sucking when he can and laving his tongue around the shaft when Geno presses deep and holds Sid’s face against his groin for long moments, fighting back his gag reflex.

It doesn’t take long. Geno clearly liked what he saw, had gotten himself halfway there before he called Sid over; all Sid has to do is breathe through his nose and let Geno hold him steady, until Geno’s coming down his throat with a loud moan.

Sid swallows, pulling back and blinking his eyes open. He’s dizzy, still so hard it almost hurts, and he clenches around nothing against the feeling of emptiness. His balls hurt. He needs to come.

All he can do is stare up at Geno, mouth open as he tries to catch his breath.

Geno’s still panting when he pulls Sid to his feet and tugs him back to the bed. He gets Sid on his back, and before Sid can even think of anything to ask for, he slides three fingers into Sid’s hole and bites down on his nipple.

Sid comes so hard every muscle in his body locks up. It’s so intense it almost doesn’t even feel good. There are tears running down his cheeks into his ears as he tosses his head back and forth.

Geno shushes him, keeps his fingers inside Sid as he gentles him down, only sliding them out when Sid gets oversensitive and tries to squirm away.

“Shit,” he finally sighs, rolling his shoulders back into the mattress. He feels like a bruise, hole throbbing and dick still twitching a little. His knees hurt.

It’s awesome.

Geno hums, pressing his palm down on Sid’s stomach. His hand is sticky with Sid’s come, but Sid can’t even bring himself to care about how gross he’s going to be. “Debt paid,” he half-slurs. “Good job.”

It takes Sid a minute. He’d completely forgotten their game.

[chocochiffonnn]

Warmth

Pairing: Husband! Yang Jungwon x Wife! Reader

Word Count: 1.3k words

Content: Fluff, softie Jungwon, two people just madly in love with each tbh.

Synopsis: Due to the busy schedule of your husband, you wanted nothing more than to feel his warmth. Turns out, he too, feels the same.

Warnings: I haven't proofreader this yet! Kind of just a draft but it was too cute not to upload! Please feel free to reblog if you enjoyed hehe.

There was rarely a time you felt warmth and comfort beneath the sheets of your blankets.

Perhaps during the Christmas holidays... The new year... And that was the rest of it. Though the comfort of the heater, the blanket, and the layer of your pajamas provided the warmness you craved, through the clear glass of your high story apartment, you felt yourself shiver still. Uncontrollably so.

Perhaps it wasn't the warmth of something you needed. Someone, maybe?

Heaving a gentle sigh, you unclasped your body from the blankets, heading towards the glass walls of your shared apartment. You cross your arms as you discern the twinkling lights of the buildings above and below.

He wasn't absent. He was never absent. Just... Late. Late for most days of the years, late for weekdays and weekends due to his busy schedule at work, and late because of everything.

And truly, you trust him wholeheartedly. Your husband, Yang Jungwon, that is.

Having been pressured to take his family's business, preparations in order to become the next heir has been taking a toll on his body and schedule as of late. And truth be told, your time together as husband and wife together, too. You trust him wholeheartedly, yet it came with much longing of having every piece of him every single day and night. It was a routine by now, you sleeping as you attempt to wait for his presence, only feeling the bed shift at god knows what time.

During times like these, he immediately wraps his arms around you, kisses you ever so gently as you pretend to be asleep. It wasn't that you were upset. You understood his situation, the responsibilities in his shoulders to be the next CEO, the stress he must deal with each day. It was all the more reason for you to long for him, to have yourself wrap your arms around his shoulders to provide some sort of comfort. To have yourself cradle his head in your neck, to whisper how much you missed him and how much he was doing such a good job. To have yourself give himself into you and just have him rest himself for a minute.

You sighed once more, feigning tiredness in your face. Perhaps you were not going to get an inch of his touch tonight as well.

Yet... Seconds later, you feel something ticklish beneath your stomach, you gasped in surprise, unaware. Unbeknownst to you, a presence creeps up behind, resting a gentle head on your shoulder and the ticklish feeling came to a sudden halt.

"Jungwon?" You say, surprised.

A muffled mmh he whispers.

It is Jungwon.

Strong arms came to wrap themselves around your waist, swaying you side by side. You smell Jungwon's perfume all too well, a gift you gave him on a random day. He uses it all the time, you can't help but think that it suits him so much. Butterflies start flying around your stomach. He smells of perfume, office, and the husband you came to embrace.

Yet you don't face him, snaking your right hand around his head which came to lay around your shoulder. Gently stroking his soft hair, Jungwon relaxes at the feel of your touch. His calloused fingertips stroke the small of your back. "Why so early?" You asked.

Jungwon only buries himself deeper in your shoulder, planting a small kiss at the nape of your neck. "Wonnie? Are you okay?"

Jungwon feels as if he might go insane with the nickname that just sputtered from your mouth.

"I just... Miss you..." He whispers, raspy, desperate.

Your touch alone was electric, how much more with those sweet, comforting words and voice? He feels insane, truly mad. He cannot help but grasp you tighter in his arms, like a child that lost its toy, like a pet that clings tightly to its owner.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Baby... What about your work? Are you finished with it?" As much as you missed this, missed him, you cannot help but worry with his work, too.

"It's done baby, and I..." He sighs, turning your around to face him, gently cupping your face with his palms, "I miss you so much."

He plants a gentle peck to your cheeks, to your eyes, to your nose, to your mouth. "I miss you so much my baby."

"Wonnie?" You chuckle, "What has gotten into you tonight? Did you drink or something?"

You pull back and stare deeply into his eyes, his boba like eyes that held such deep emotions. His ever so beautiful eyes that gazed at you as if you were the most beautiful woman in his life, and in Jungwon's perspective, you are.

Looking at you right now, staring so intently at him makes him wonder: How is he ever so lucky? The very first time he fell in love with you during high school, college, work, and the moments that came in between— it was all so beautiful. You are so beautiful in each in every one of them, caring for him in such ways unimaginable, loving him in parts of himself he thought were unlovable, keeping him close to your precious, guarded heart.

Days like these, where he is simply too busy to shower his affection and love for you, it keeps him awake late at night, too. Jungwon knows he is trying his best to take care of the family business, because he knows he wants to take care of you in such a way. A comfortable life as his wife, where you no longer need to stress about the bills, what to eat, to wear, to prepare— he wants you to live a lavish life with him as your husband.

"I'm sorry." he whispers. "What ever are you sorry for?"

He clasps your hands, intertwining them with his and kissing his nose with yours; an eskimo kiss.

"I know I haven't been present in a while, especially these days, I've just—"

You shut him up with a gentle kiss, one which he returns with such love and tenderness that it makes all your worries go away.

"I'm waiting. I'm always waiting, Wonnie." You whisper breathlessly.

Jungwon smiles. How is he ever so lucky?

"I understand you, I know your goals and what you want for your- for our future. I love you so much for that."

You grasp his hands just a little tighter, focusinto his orbs a bit more. There, his eyes are so full of intimacy, so full of endearment. This was the warmth you were craving for, the heat of your bodies clashed together, his warm breath against yours, and his presence in general.

"I will never, ever, have it any other way baby."

Without another word, Jungwon tightly wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest with an urgency you couldn't quite place your finger around.

"I love you. I'm working so hard for us. I won't let it go to waste."

Jungwon lets go, pulling you into the bed. "You haven't changed—"

"It doesn't matter."

He snuggles you into his warm embrace. There was something about Jungwon you find so unique and endearing. Through years of being in love with such a man, the way he pulls you in such a way is captivating. His ability to strive for his goals, and aiming for a brighter path ahead for your family— truly, you were more than glad you have him as your husband.

He hurriedly covers both your bodies with the blanket, then one hand came to your hair, stroking it ever so slightly, the other wrapped around you in such a secure way.

"I'm taking the day off tomorrow. Can we go on a date?" Jungwon says suddenly,

"What? But—"

"Shh. Let's go on a date, I want to spoil you tomorrow, make up for al the times I had not been present. Okay, baby?"

He leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, then down to your nose, then your lips.

You returned the kiss, slow, leisure, and intimate. Kissing him had felt like a subtle spark ignited within your whole body, and you felt it heat up.

Jungwon pulls back, same thoughts and intentions glazing his mind,

"But for now, can we have this night all to ourselves?"

-END-

[giggly-squiggily]

Fireworks Beneath Our Feet (My Hero Academia)

Happy New Year!!!! 2025- holy canoli! :D Since I didn't write a Christmas fic last year, I decided to make something for the New Year! I hope you like it :3

@intheticklecloset (Girl you know I had to tag you in this- it's TodoBaku!)

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

@myreygn @thatbigbisexual29 @duckymcdoorknob @wolfyeatstacos @baby-tickles2022 @cupcake-spice13 @sarahmaystock5578 @rachi-roo @mochigiggle @chibisstuff @imjusthere07 @sevenincubistolemyheart @riisada @sp1racle @teddywriting

Summary: It's New Years Eve. Bakugou and Todoroki decide to celebrate together.

Bakugou didn’t care much for winter holidays. 

There were some good things that came out of them. Having classes off was always nice, and he’d be a liar if he thought Eri in her little Santa outfit wasn’t the cutest thing in the world. 

He also liked eating; the food was always good- especially Shoto’s sister’s cooking. He had a whole new list of recipes to bribe out of her next time he visited the Todoroki household. Besides that though- he didn’t care much for it all.

What he did look forward to however was New Years. Especially fireworks.

How he loved fireworks.

“Come on, Icy-hot! It’s not even that cold up here!” Bakugou called behind him, pushing the roof door open with a shiver. Okay-maybe it was cold up there, but whatever. “We’re gonna miss them if you don’t hurry up!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Why are you in such a rush- they always go off exactly at midnight.” Todoroki reminded him as he came into view, arms full of things. “We’ve got at least half an hour.”

“Half an hour my ass- you know time moves differently in the dorms!” There were so many people to navigate past, not to mention the stairs they had to climb. If they left too late, they’d miss the show. “Here- I’ll take some of that.”

“Did you forget your arms are already full? Go ahead- I’m fine.” Todoroki caught the door with his hip, shivering as the wind cut through his jacket. “Not that cold my butt.”

Soon they were set up- a warm blanket spread beneath them with another thrown on top of their laps. A thermos hot chocolate sat nearby, two mugs filled to the brim with marshmallows and cream steaming in their gloveless hands. Todoroki made it a point to sit on Bakugou’s right, his left side acting as an impromptu furnace to keep them toasty. They were ready to go- now was the hard part. Waiting.

“Are you warm enough?” Todoroki asked after a few minutes, seeing Bakugou shiver. He leaned in closer, pressing their shoulders together. “Let me know if you need more heat.”

“I’m fine- ugh, why do they drag it out? It’s the best part of the freaking year!” He tapped his fingers impatiently against his mug, watching the sky for any sign of light. It was only then he felt the shoulder against him shaking. “What?” Bakugou asked, narrowing his eyes at the growing smile on his boyfriend’s lips. “What is it?”

“Nothing- truly. I just think it’s cute how excited you get over things like this.” Todoroki grinned, watching Bakugou blush. “It’s sweet- you’re like a little kid.”

“Bah, what do you know?” Bakugou huffed and turned away, a clear pout forming on his lips. Todoroki chuckled around his mug, taking a sip before putting his and Bakugou’s aside. He wrapped an arm around him again when he started to shiver. “I’m not some brat..”

“I know you’re not. You’re an amazing hero who actual kids look up to and admire. When we reach Pro and you make your official debut, you’re gonna have tons of fans.” He kissed Bakugou’s chilled cheek, feeling it twitched with a restrained smile. “Of course, I’ll be your number one.”

“You’re gonna pull a Deku and collect all my merch?” He asked, laughing some when Todoroki nuzzled his neck and ears with his chilled nose.

“Sure. I’ll have a whole museum dedicated to you and your merch.” He gently poked him, feeling Bakugou twitch. “Wall to wall, floor to ceiling of your face for all to see. Historians will find it after we’re gone and wonder to themselves: “Just who is this handsome man?”, and I’ll rise from the dead and go “He’s mine- back off!””

“Ghe-ehahahahahhaa, thahaht’s so creheheheheepy!” Bakugou laughed, falling into Todoroki’s chest as he swatted at the hands tickling him. “I’ihihihll bloohohow it ahahah up behehefore I dihihie. I whahahant yoohohou to stahhahay dead wihihihth mehehehe!”

“Erasing yourself from the narrative, huh? I’ll have to invest in explosive-proof walls.” He snickered alongside the blonde’s giggle fits, his touch incredibly light as not to draw anyone’s attention to them. Call it what you want, but he liked having Bakugou all to himself in these moments. “Maybe I’ll have it built in the clouds, or on the ocean floor. You’ll be really popular among the mermaids.”

“Thohohohose fihihihsh cahahan suhuhuck it!” Bakugou cackled, feeling ticklish from both Todoroki’s touch and the insane thought. Late hours sure knew how to bring the silly out of them. “Oohohohonly yohohohou geheheht me, yohohou here? Ihiihhih’m yoohohhours!”

Todoroki sucked in a breath, pausing his tickles. “Say it again.”

“Whahaht?” Bakugou blinked, confused. “Ihi’m yours?” Then he went bright red, covering his face with his hands. “Gahha! N-No, don’t fucking lohohok at me like thahaht!”

Todoroki was just as red, his heart racing a mile a minute. Such simple words, but they meant the world to him. “Like what?” He leaned down, gently pawing at Bakugou’s hands until he could meet his eye. “Tell me, Kats. How am I looking at you?”

“Shoto..” Bakugou knew where this was going. A part of him wanted to hide away knowing how his emotions would so easily show on his face. Another part of him wanted Todoroki to just say it already.

“Look at you..like I love you? Cause I do. You’re my whole world. The night sky and the stars above.” He leaned down and kissed Bakugou’s brow, smiling against it. “I’m so forever grateful to have you in my life.”

“Ugh, you’re so fucking sappy!” Bakugou growled, earning a laugh. He looked up at the moon for a moment, finding the courage to say what he wanted- no, needed to say. “I love you too. If I’m your night sky, you’re the sun that comes over the horizon. You make my path in life bright when I need it most. You make me so damn happy, even when you’re being annoying about it.” Todoroki let out a wet laugh at that, kissing his brow again. “Now stop kissing my face and kiss my lips already, you half-and-half bastard.”

“So swoonworthy.” Todoroki did as requested, kissing him fully. His lips tasted of cocoa and marshmallows. He smelled like winter air and firewood at the same time. Bakugou nearly lost himself entirely to such a simple but soothing gesture.

The familiar whistle cut through the air when they pulled apart. Bakugou practically sprinted out of Todoroki’s lap and to the roof fence as the sky exploded. “Look! Shoto, look, it’s happening!”

The sky was a rainbow of shimmers, fireworks popping above them in a breathtaking lightshow. Bakugou leaned against the roof’s edge, standing on his toes and breathing in the smoke-tinged air. If he stretched his hand out, he swore he could touch them- grab them in his hands like falling stars.

A warm hand brushed against his, and he made short work collecting it- intertwining their fingers. Forget falling stars- he was holding the brightest one of all now.  “It really is beautiful.” Todoroki breathed beside him, just as awestruck. Bakugou let out a laugh as he leaned into his boyfriend, watching the twinkling flames dance.

“We’ve probably missed the countdown, but Happy New Year, Shoto.” He felt Todoroki lean back into him, resting his cheek against his spiked out hair. “Thanks for making this year a good one.”

“You too. Thank you for loving me.” He heard him whisper back, bringing their conjoined hands up to kiss Bakugou’s knuckles. “Happy New Year, love.”

Thanks for reading!