#the tooth-rotting kind preferably

[sincerelyyuu]

hidden affections • itadori yuji

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: after moving to a new school, you quickly gain the affections of a mystery admirer. ➼ pairing: itadori yuji x gn!reader ➼ content/tw: sfw, secretadmirer!yuji, tooth rotting fluff, no curses au, yuji is basically a lovesick puppy and is whipped for reader ➼ wc: 2K words ➼ a/n: desperately in need of some cute yuji content! likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡

Growing up, there weren't many people that Yuji found interesting enough to date. People seemed to gravitate towards his friendly and outgoing personality so making friends came easy to him. Even then, there wasn’t anyone that really caught his eye. Of course, he had his preferences (Jennifer Lawrence being one of them), but no one that he considered passing the threshold of friendship with.

That is until he met you.

Nobara had mentioned a new student was transferring into their class. It was a little unexpected considering it was the middle of the school year, so he was curious as to who this person was. When you first stepped into the classroom, Yuji felt the breath knock out of his lungs.

He always thought the idea of falling in love at first sight was so cheesy and something that only happened in movies. Yet suddenly all of those love songs on the radio made sense. You were the most attractive person he’s ever seen. He hadn’t realized he was staring until Nobara shoved an elbow into his side, snickering at the way his jaw snapped shut from the way it hung open. Meanwhile, you stood at the front of the class, doing your best to smile despite your nerves at all the attention on you.

“This is (y/n). They’ll be joining us for the remainder of the school year. They just moved here, so please do your best to make them feel welcome,” the sensei introduced before turning to you. “You may take a seat.”

Bowing in respect to the teacher and then once more to your new classmates, you briefly scanned the room. You decided to take a seat next to a pink haired male who waved hello enthusiastically to you, already feeling your nerves dissipate from his cheery demeanor.

“(y/n), right? I’m Itadori Yuji,” he greeted with a grin.

“It’s nice to meet you, Itadori,” you returned his smile, pulling the supplies out of your bag to get ready for the lesson. “I like your hair. It kind of reminds me of strawberry milk.”

The words leaving your lips before you could stop them, you looked at him sheepishly, “Sorry, was that weird to say?”

Yuji laughed lightly, a little embarrassed at your thoughts on his hair. “No, it’s fine. I haven’t heard that one before but thanks, I guess.”

“If you want, my friends Fushiguro, Kugisaki and I can show you around. I wouldn’t mind-, I mean, we wouldn’t mind,” he offers, quickly correcting himself and silently cursing himself for lamely stumbling over his words.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to catch it and nodded your head eagerly, “I’d like that a lot.”

Just like that, you found yourself hanging out everyday with this trio of friends who accepted you into their group with open arms. There was rarely a day where you weren’t with them, be it group study sessions in the library or outside of school going on convenience store runs. Among this group, you naturally became closest with Yuji who always made you feel welcomed.

Meanwhile for Yuji, what started as innocent interest quickly evolved into a full blown crush on you. He was drawn to your bubbly and sweet nature and like a moth to a flame, his heart followed you. He found himself thinking of you all the time, wondering about what you liked or what you were up to. Wondering if you thought about him as much as he thought about you.

It was the little things that sent his heart racing. One random day, his number two pencil had rolled off his desk. Leaning down to grab it, his hand brushed against yours feeling the soft skin of your hand against his fingers. You were a step quicker than him and grabbed the pencil first, placing it back on his desk.

“Thanks,” he expressed, doing his best to fight back the rush of heat to his face.

You merely waved him off nonchalantly in an effort to tell him not to worry about it. After that, Yuji would purposely drop his pencils often in class, timing it so that his hands would brush against yours every time. You joked with him about how clumsy he was when in reality, his hand would tremble as it yearned to hold yours.

Yuji never had a problem with expressing himself to others. However, when it came to you, it was like his brain immediately turned to mush. All of his thoughts fly out of his head the minute you're on his mind. 

“Why don’t you just tell them how you feel?” Megumi asks him a different day. 

“What if they don’t feel the same way?” Yuji whines, plopping his head onto his folded arms on his desk. “It would be so embarrassing if they rejected me.”

“You don’t know unless you try,” his friend replies, mildly amused by the distress on Yuji’s face. “Besides, I’m surprised they haven’t figured it out yet.”

Raising his head, Yuji looks at him in surprise. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Megumi rolls his eyes. “You literally have hearts in your eyes whenever you look at them.”

Did he really? He couldn’t help it. Every time you walked into the room, it was like all he could see was you. The way your eyes light up whenever you wave hello to him. The crinkle of your nose whenever you laugh at something funny he said. Your voice dripping with honey every time you spoke to him. You were absolutely captivating to him.

“Look, I’m just saying that there are other ways to let them know your feelings,” the spiky haired teen suggested cryptically with the gears turning in Yuji’s head as he thought over his best friend’s advice.

The next day, you and Nobara were aimlessly chatting about plans for the weekend. When you walked into class, you were surprised to see a red and brown box sitting on top of your desk. Upon further inspection, you saw it was a pack of chocolate Meiji Hello Panda cookies, your favorite childhood snack.

“Whatcha’ got there, (y/n)?” Nobara asks as she throws her bag to the floor and slips into her desk beside yours.

“Cookies,” you answered and held up the box to her. “Did you see who left these here?”

The ginger shrugged, “Wasn’t from me. Is there a name?”

Taking a closer look at the box, you couldn’t find a sender name. Instead you found a tiny strawberry sticker pasted on the front. Why would someone leave you this on your desk? As if answering your thoughts, Nobara leaned in with a cheeky grin.

“Looks like someone has a secret admirer~,” she teases.

You shook your head at her in disbelief. “I doubt it. Maybe someone is just being nice?” you tried to reason with her.

“Oh, definitely. That’s exactly why I have a box of treats sitting on my desk, too,” Nobara sarcastically retorts and gestures to her empty desk. 

You shoved her shoulder playfully with a laugh, opening the box and shaking a couple of the shortbread pandas into her awaiting hand. Hearing a chair screech on your opposite side, you turned to see Yuji looking at you with expecting eyes.

“Hi, Itadori!” you greeted, holding out the box to him. “Want some? Someone really sweet left these for me on my desk today.”

“O-Oh, really? That was nice of them,” he stammered in response.

He stretched out his hand and let you drop a couple of the pieces onto his palm, crumpling the convenience store receipt with the name of the snack inside of his hoodie pocket.

Satisfied with how the first time went, Yuji started leaving anonymous tokens of affection at your desk every day. A single stem of your favorite flower (which he found out through Nobara who had a field day when he told her of his crush on you). A bag of candies as sweet as you. A cute bunny keychain that he won at the local arcade (and spent way too much money to get) that reminded him of you. Each time he would wake up extra early to make sure he was the first one to get to class to leave his little gift. 

Feeling a bit braver, Yuji also began writing love notes to you to slip into your locker. Just little one liners onto torn notebook paper of things he wished he could say to you but didn’t have the courage to say to your face.

“Seeing your smile is enough to brighten my whole day.”

“You are my sunshine on my darkest days.”

“Do you understand how amazing you are?”

With every passing day, you wanted so badly to find out who your secret admirer was. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t start to develop a crush on them back. How could you not when they were clearly trying hard to convey their feelings for you in the most endearing way?

The only clue you had was that same strawberry sticker that accompanied each gift and note. You did feel guilty that this mystery person was spending all this time and money on you without getting anything in return. The curiosity was starting to become unbearable.

So, you made up your mind. You were going to find out who this person was whether they were ready or not.

Waking up just as the sun was rising, you hurriedly got ready and made your way to school. Walking through the empty hallways, you stopped just as you were a step away from the door of your homeroom, careful to avoid being seen through the class windows. Your heart accelerated once you heard footsteps inside the classroom. They were already here. Inhaling deeply to steady your rapid heartbeat, you slid open the door.

“...Itadori?” you gasped.

The tall teen looked at you with wide eyes, unceremoniously dropping the adorable shiba dog plushie on your desk. He felt a panic rise in his chest. You weren’t supposed to be here yet. What were you doing here? 

Wracking his brain on what to say, he ultimately sighed. Turning to face you, he rubbed the back of his head bashfully, “You finally caught me. It was me.”

You felt your heart grow warm at finally matching a face to all the gifts and the love notes. To think it was your friend Yuji this entire time. As you studied the male, your eyes gravitated up to his strawberry pink locks. 

Strawberry. The strawberry sticker. You finally connected the dots. It was his way of telling you it was him and you didn’t even realize it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you questioned softly. Walking up to the tense male, you saw him gulp as you stopped in front of him, looking so nervous and utterly adorable.

Yuji gave a half hearted laugh before replying, “Would you think I’m lame if I told you I was afraid to?"

"You just make me so nervous. I really like you. I’ve liked you for a while now but I didn’t know how to say it without ruining our friendship. I wanted to give you an out in case you didn’t feel the same.”

Picking up the plushie, he tentatively held it out to you. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the way you accepted it and held it to your chest affectionately.

“Yuji,” you gently beamed up at him. “Can I call you that?”

Yuji swore he died and went to heaven upon hearing you say his first name. Cheeks flushing, he nodded fervently. He felt his breath hitch when you leaned up to press a kiss to his reddening cheek.

“Thank you for everything,” your voice full of gratitude as you stared into his fawn colored eyes. “For the record, I really like you, too.”

Feeling a sudden wave of confidence, he placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him. “Does this mean I can finally take you on a date?” he asks, his cheeks aching from how widely he was smiling. 

Hiding your face behind the plushie in your hands, you peered up through your lashes at him with twinkling eyes. Too cute, Yuji thought.

“Just say the word and I’ll be there,” you promised.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen x gn reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x gn reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #yuji itadori #itadori yuji #yuuji itadori #itadori yuuji #yuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk yuji #jujutsu kaisen yuji #yuji itadori fluff #yuuji itadori fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #itadori yuji fluff #yuji fluff #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Giggly Sleepyhead (Fallout Preference)

Fandom: Fallout 4 Request: x Pairings: Cooper x Reader, Danse x Reader, Hancock x Reader, Valentine x Reader Trigger Warning: Tooth rotting sweetness.

Cooper Howard

His reaction depends on a couple of different details, honestly.

Pre-War!Coop would just find you adorable and smile as he totes or leads you to bed.

He'd make you giggle some more, both accidentally and on purpose. And of course he'd tease you a little about it.

If you're together after he becomes a Ghoul, he's not as amused by it. He'd seem annoyed and huffy though the longer you're in your relationship the more his annoyed demeanor becomes an obvious act.

He'd roll his eyes and pull you closer to him with a groan but the corners of his mouth would subtly quirk up.

Danse

This man would definitely raise an eyebrow. Sure Danse is familiar with some people being giggly when sleepy but he doesn't really get it.

He's not really grumpy when sleepy but he is more no-nonsense.

Although he can't deny that you are kind of adorable giggling and grinning for little reason. And your giggly nature has taught him how to tell when you definitely need some sleep.

The second you start giggling more than normal, he'd make sure to get you to bed and no funny business.

And he's learned to choose his words very carefully when you're sleepy. Otherwise you'll be cackling for several minutes at any incidental double entendres.

Hancock

Oh he would definitely enjoy you being giggly when you're sleepy.

In fact he enjoys it almost too much. Absolutely revels in the knowledge and you're going to regret him finding out. In the best way of course.

He'd egg you on until you're clutching your sides and red in the face from laughing so much. You'd definitely end up out of breath.

Only then would he show you any sort of mercy and pull you onto his lap or closer to him if you're already in bed.

Then he'd start rubbing your back or playing with your hair and occasionally, usually right as your eyes close, he'd say something else that gets you giggling again.

Valentine

He's aware that some people get giggly when sleepy but nothing prepped him for you giggling at everything while struggling to keep your eyes open.

He'll set aside his work and usher you off to bed once he realizes what's going on.

He'll be shaking his head and suppressing a grin but he makes sure you're tucked in with a bottle of water nearby.

"If you don't stop giggling, I'll just have to read you all these reports and paperwork that I'm working on." It's a threat he ends up having to carry out every time.

And it works...almost every time. The more boring the reports, the quicker you nod off.

#fallout #fallout 4 #fallout show #fallout headcanons #fallout preferences #request #requests open #cooper howard x reader #paladin danse x reader #john hancock x reader #nick valentine x reader #cute and fluffy

[emeritusemeritus]

Ughhh i cant stop thinking about soft soft sex with Fred after a long, tiring day. Just turning your brain to mush and then pampering you and holding you close... ♡

Hi Anon! My dear, this is on my mind near constantly too so here we go! My own personal HC that after the war Fred would grow his hair longer again, kind of like James in real life so I snook that in 🖤

Warnings: smut, graphic smut, soft sex, piv, fingering. Tooth rotting smut- is that a thing? Fluff, use of petnames, kind of a smutty comfort fic?

Word count: 891

You hadn't had a bad day necessarily, just a long day. You felt you were going through the motions, entirely on auto pilot, counting down the minutes until you'd be back home. Both you and Fred had the day off together tomorrow and there was no better feeling. All day you'd held on to the hope of a nice dinner, preferably one that you didn't have to cook, putting your comfiest clothes on and mindlessly watching muggle Tv whilst you cuddle up to Fred or even better, completely naked and cuddled up to Fred in a very different way.

When he first slips inside of you, a blissful sigh of relief escapes your lips. Your hands stroke down his naked. muscular back, legs locked tightly around his waist as his hips lazily drive into you, stroking deeper and deeper with each thrust.

“Fuck, you feel like home baby,” Fred whispers into your ear as he thrusts into you, burying his cock deep and staying there for a few moments, letting you adjust to his size.

“Always so tight,” he whispers, as if he’s talking to himself. You reach up and pull back the few strands of hair that have fallen into his face, making him look at you as he lifts his head. You share a sweet, meaningful smile as you look at each other before he leans down on bulging arms to kiss you. It’s passionate and loving but lazy with no rush to it, as if he’s savouring the moment just as you are. When he draws back his hips and thrusts into you again you can’t hold back the moan that escapes you. It’s quiet and subdued, muffled into his shoulder but so powerful, like a secret shared between you.

His pace is slow and steady with perfectly angled thrusts, taking his time to make it blissful for both of you. Your hips meet his, rolling in time with his thrusting and each time he seems to get deeper with every stroke.

“Roll on your side sweetheart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he pulls out of you and moves to spoon you on your big, soft bed. He kisses your neck and shoulder as he settles behind you, free hand wandering across your breasts as he rests his weight on his other arm. His hand trails down your skin, purposely dancing around that spot on your waist that tickles the most and he chuckles as he watches you squirm. His big hands part your legs and begin toying with your clit, spreading around your wetness and reigniting that fire in your lower belly. He pulls away and grabs hold of his cock as you lift up your leg, allowing him to slip back inside of you. It isn’t your favourite position, usually reserved for lazy mornings when you’re both still half asleep but still need each other, but right now you’re enjoying the intimacy of it.

“Fred,” you sigh out in bliss as his pace quickens, your hand rising up to grab your breasts as his fingers slip back to your clit and circle the little nub perfectly. You turn your head to the side and he captured your lips with his almost instantly, each of you sensing the increasing intensity as his hips thrust harder and quicker.

“Want you to cum sweetheart, want to feel that perfect little pussy squeezing me,” he says in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your body as his fingers speed up just slightly on your sensitive nub.

“Fred, Fred,” you breathily chant, chasing your building orgasm as you move your hips to Fuck yourself back on his cock.

“Will you let me cum inside you baby?” He says, beginning to pound into your harder just like he knows you need.

“Fred, cum inside me!” You cry out, reaching your peak under his skilled fingers and perfect cock. Your pleading is enough to hurl him right over the edge with you and he grabs your hips with astronomical force as he pulls you down onto him one last time, sinking deep inside as he spills his load inside.

You’re both breathless and sporting with matching smiles on your face as you come down from your highs. He pulls you in for another kiss as he slips out of you, smirking against your lips as he hears you gasp. His hand comes up to rest on your breast as he pulls you into his body, his flaccid cock resting against the curve of your bum as he holds you in his arms.

“I love you, so much,” he says quietly and you smile, reaching up to entwine your fingers with his where you can reach.

“Love you more Fred Weasley,” you say slightly dreamily, still amazed that you get to say those words even after being together for so long.

After a few minutes of bathing in the post-sex glow, you hear Fred’s breathing steadying and know that he’s undoubtedly fallen asleep. It’s too late for a nap and too early for bed but you don’t care, cuddling down into the muscular plains of his chest where your head fits perfectly under his chin. Dinner can wait, chances are you’ll just order in anyway and so you let yourself drift off in Fred’s arms, the day forgotten.

#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #Fred Weasley smut #requests

[a-5-m-0-d-3-u-5]

omg happy birthday🎈!! we're birthday neighbors, mines tomorrow :3

could you do an imagine or headcanons for how Ghost might celebrate m!reader's birthday? (I've never done a request before I hope I did this right jdksjfjsjs)

Aww, of course, dude! I don't meet too many February birthdays! Here comes some tooth rotting fluff! The setting is written with you being a civilian in mind. (Also don't worry you did great!)

🎉 Birthdays with Ghost and his boyfriend! 🎉

Birthdays with Ghost are very informal. He doesn't like big events with lots of shit going on, so if he's in charge, that's not what's happening.

He decides to throw a small "party" with just the two of you. He'll make a cake himself, delicious and moist, but a little sloppily frosted. A warm dinner you'd decided on the night before prepared for you perfectly to your taste.

Should his schedule allow for it, he'll allocate all of his time on your day to a little day out. Again, nothing too extravagant. Maybe it's an aquarium date with lunch after, maybe a movie, something small but thoughtful that he'd know you enjoy.

He comes across to me as the kind of guy that prefers experiences as gifts over things, but when he does get you a present or two, it's incredibly thoughtful. It's usually something useful. You'd complained about needing new slippers? Happy birthday, you've got some. Maybe you're running low on art supplies or you commented on a book you'd been looking for. He takes note of small things so he can surprise you a little extra.

If you'd befriended any of his squad, they would likely insist on dropping a gift off at your place or calling to wish you happy birthday.

He likes to end the night by spooning with you so he can mumble sweet things in your ear, things he appreciates about you with one arm under his head and the other draped over your waist. He'll kiss the back of your neck before he falls asleep.

#sfw #fluff #ghost x reader #ghost x male reader #simon riley x male reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 x male reader #cod x male reader #cod x reader

[bigfatbimbo]

Pls pls pls pls pls molly (angel dust’s sister)

i saw that your allowing reauests for characters that aren’t necessarily on your list 🤭 and 🤭 i might be a tiny tiny bit obsessed with Molly!!::!/&/&@:

warning — fluff and smut, vague but self indulgent guesses on her character’s personality, gn reader.

a/n — all of the pictures I could find of her from the show were low quality so I had to turn to pinterest!

summary — headcanons for molly x reader

SFW HCS —

So I feel like Molly is very affectionate by nature. I mean, have you seen her? She just oozes the overall vibe of kindness.

Needless to say, she’s very big on PDA in the most disgusting, tooth rotting, embarrassing way. She will not falter in calling you things like ‘Shmookums’ ‘Sweetiepie’ ‘Babycakes’ ‘boo-boo’ ‘honey-buns’ in front of all of your friends.

Yes, her pet names are that fowl. And she insists on using them. She’s also all over you all the time. Clinging on your arm, Playing with your necklace while you talk, twirling your hair.

She’s also comedically casual about her life in a mafia family. Like you’re talking and she just brings up the most jaw dropping, conversation stopping, movie plot of a piece of lore about her life. And you literally have to stop, slow turn to her with your mouth mode open, and be like “Girl… ARE YOU GOOD?” And she’s like “Yeah! why wouldn’t I be?” and the thing is it’s not even a lie. From the forties and expects very stereotypical loveydovey treatment from you. Buying her flowers, opening car doors for her, lots of jewelry, overall princess treatment. Now don’t get me wrong, she’s not a brat. She treats you the exact same way. Big romantic gestures are very popular with her. Giving and receiving. For anniversary’s she probably wants you to hire a band to surprise her, set off fireworks that spell her name out, and end the day with rose petals leading to your bed. I think she’s also a very good listener, like she hangs on your every word when you talk. However, I see her as quite the yapper herself, so she ends up interrupting your sentences a lot. Also, she is very big on gossip. But she doesn’t call it gossip she calls it ‘making observations because gossiping is mean!’ It is gossip though. “Oh my gawd, have you seen her shoes? I mean normally, don’t get me wrong, i’d appreciate the confidence. But pared with that yellow skirt? Oh my gawd, I could never!” Loves playing with your hair too, doing fun hairstyles, braiding it, probably temporarily dyeing it. But she’s not could with hair dye so you would end up having a clusterfuck of a hair do. Probably loves painting your nails too, no matter if you’re masculine or feminine, she would just love love love taking care of your nails for you. Also if you’re sick or just not feeling well, Molly is the caretaker of all time. She makes you hot chocolate or tea or whatever you prefer, snuggles with you relentlessly, doesn’t let you do any work in general actually. And by the way, her chest floof isn’t for nothing.

NSFW HCS —

Bottom leaning switch. But even when she’s topping she’s very vocal. I saw bottom leaning but I mean like 90% of the time she’s the bottom. She gives such pillow princess energy, I guess just from looks alone though. But like… she has the essence of a pillow princess. Very vanilla, sorry gang. At most like maybe a slight praise kink. But degrading makes her upset in a not hot way and anything else she just simply isn’t into. Kinda low sex drive but she doesn’t cum fast. Like when I say low sex drive I mean like after one round, she’s pretty checked out for the night. If we’re talking afab reader here, scissoring is her absolute favorite. She is so vocal about it and she has the absolute cutest moans. She kinda also give mommy vibes when she’s topping though.

a/n — this actually isn’t proofread so beware. also credit for the artist! salty_angel cake for the first one and if anyone knows who did the second one, dm me and i’ll update.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fluff #inbox open #molly hazbin hotel #molly x reader #hazbin molly x reader #hazbin molly

[nolita-fairytale]

don’t want to walk alone | carmen ‘carmy' berzatto | chapter three: september

summary: the moment we've all be waiting for: you and carmy get married.

warnings: swearing, eventual smut, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 7.1k

listen to: the official don't want to walk alone playlist. there is SO much music in this chapter, so per the playlist, it starts with 'it takes two' and ends with 'love story.'

a/n: ok so this chapter was a behemoth to write and i am in fact in love with it. it's taken me days, really weeks, to get what i wanted out of it and i still feel like i could've gone deeper. however, i'm also kind of just happy to have this out in the world and give these two the wedding they wanted me to give them. each moment was curated and thought out, down to the music selection so this chapter is really just a product of me stewing on this idea for quite a bit of time. this is a part of my make my heart surrender universe so check out the masterlist if you haven't read the series! next up? their long weekend at the langham where we really get carmy x reader and moments for just them. please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part two | masterlist | part four

“It takes two to make a thing go riiiiight.”

You never pictured the night before your wedding like this, you think to yourself, as you listen to Fak sing, to the best of his ability in a somewhat-decent falsetto, along to the 90s hip hop classic. 

Hell, you’re not sure you really ever pictured your wedding, but as you sit, surrounded by the people you love, you can’t see it going any other way than this. You watch as Richie rallies up as many people as he can for shots of Mallort, recounting that infamous morning at Ceres – a story he’s told over and over again, yet still manages to tell as animated and boisterously as the first time you heard it. 

You groan as you watch Richie successfully convince Gary to take a shot with him, Gary’s face twisting into a look of disgust in response to the foul taste of the Chicago liquor, as Sugar reminds him that he should know better by now. 

Carmy gives your knee a squeeze while simultaneously brushing off Richie’s attempt at shoving a shot in his direction. You laugh, a warm feeling filling you to the brim (could be the beer, could be being surrounded by your people), while Sydney jumps right into her best Rob Base impression. 

It just so happens that your continuously put-off ‘let’s shoot for next month’ karaoke plans with a few staff members from The Bear coincided with plans to go out with friends before the wedding, which is how you’ve found yourself here. 

After a lovely dinner at The Bear, your parents went back to the hotel for the night, insisting that you two go and have your fun. And as much as you would’ve loved to have brought your mother-who-has-a-doctorate-in-music-theory to karaoke night, she much preferred a good night’s sleep. 

The crowded bar claps enthusiastically as Fak and Sydney wrap up their song, finishing their truly-made-up-only-for-comedy dance moves. You giggle, exchanging another glance with Carmy, as your friends take their bows, before shuffling off of the stage. 

You hear the loud boom of the emcee’s voice through the microphone as he says:

“And up next we got… Tina!”

“Let’s go, T!” you shout through hands crowded around your mouth, in an effort to increase your volume of sound. 

Carmy cheers, clapping his hands together as Richie enthusiastically chants Tina’s name while Tina makes her way to the stage. 

“This is gonna be good,” Sugar nudges you, from where you are, seated in between the Berzatto siblings. 

You nod your head in agreement before settling in a little closer to Carmy. 

“The queen, herself,” Sydney remarks, gesturing towards the stage as she and Fak both return to your table. Sydney pulls up a chair next to where you and Carmy sit while Fak joins Richie on the other side of it. “And the ONLY act that could follow our exceptional performance.” 

“Well, exactly,” you agree, playfully. 

You exchange a laugh with Syd, while Carmy playfully rolls his eyes at the two of you. 

The crowded bar room goes quiet as soon as Tina reaches the stage, smiling nervously as she grabs the mic. 

“This one goes out to our favorite Jeffrey. And his lady Jeff,” she begins, earning a round of cheers and hollers from the group you’re with. Tina blows a kiss you and Carmy’s way, before nodding at the emcee to begin. 

“I love you guys.”

You hear the beginning notes of the iconic Etta James tune, gasping in anticipation of her song:

“at last my love has come along my lonely days are over and life is like a song.”

You sigh in admiration, a hand over your heart as Tina continues to sing. Her voice is powerful, soulful – perfect for the song, really – as she continues into the second verse. 

“at last the skies above are blue my heart was wrapped up in clover the night I looked at you.”

This time, it’s Carmy who steals a glance your way, his mind taken back to that fateful night at a bar in Hell’s Kitchen, when he spilled his drink on you so many years ago. You’re entranced, enchanted, with Tina’s performance, and he thinks to himself, that maybe this is the best it’s ever going to get: being here with you, getting to love you, on the cusp of promising you ‘forever’ tomorrow. 

Never had he expected that you’d make it this far. You’d always been so much cooler than him – well-liked, talented, funny – in and out of the kitchen, that he had no idea how the hell he was supposed to talk to you without vomiting all over your shoes out of nerves. 

He can remember that night so vividly: standing there in the restroom of the bar he can barely remember the name of, while you stood across from him with the kind of glare on your face he swore could kill him. But you didn’t, and after many attempts to push you away, you asked him to be your friend, deeming it the day that started it all – a friendship that would teeter the line of friendship and something more, one that would bloom into the greatest love he’s ever known. As much as he hates to give Nate fucking Walker any kind of credit, he’ll the be first in line to say he’s glad the jagoff pushed him into you, setting it all in motion. 

You can see that Carmy’s become distracted, lost in thought as the song finishes, something behind your favorite pair of blue eyes as the entire bar ignites into a huge round of celebratory claps for Tina’s performance. 

You look up over at him, setting your beer bottle down on the table before leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“I can hear you thinkin’ over there, Berzatto,” you tease him quietly, pulling him from his trip down memory lane. “It’s only the night before the biggest day of your life. Relax.”

Carmy rolls his eyes playfully in response, but before he can properly respond to your jab, the emcee has begun introducing the next karaoke singers to the stage. 

“Alright. Looks like I’ve got uh… three singers here this time,” the emcee says, his voice cutting sharply through the crowd of remaining cheers. “Let’s welcome Sydney back to the stage with… Sugar and… the bride to be!” 

“What!?” you exclaim, your eyes wide with surprise as Sydney jumps to her feet.  

“But I didn’t-,” you begin to protest, as Sugar pulls you to your feet, tugging on your arm. 

“Oh there’s no way in hell we’re letting you sit this one out,” Sugar orders you, as Sydney rushes to your side, ushering you towards the stage. 

“Yeah this was your idea!” Sydney simultaneously reminds you. 

“Babe! Help!” you call out to Carmy, only to be met with a shrug and a look that says ‘don’t think I could if I tried.’ 

“Oh, he’s in on this,” Sydney adds, which does explain why he didn’t even attempt to help you when your friends began dragging you out of your chair. “So don’t even think about asking him for help.”

“Wh-? But I don’t even know what we’re singing!” you continue to protest, looking from Sugar to Sydney as they push you onto the stage with them. 

“Trust,” Sydney reassures you, her face serious, while Nat slides a sash over you (one you’ve refused to wear all night) that has the word, ‘BRIDE’ printed over it in huge gold lettering. You groan, sending a glare in Nat’s direction, even though you know it’s all in good fun. 

You hear Richie shout, while Fak and Marcus clap loudly, and Carmy laughs, shouting words of encouragement your way. 

You know there’s no use in putting up a fight, especially since this was your idea anyways, as you begrudgingly take one of the three wireless mics. Before you can ask once more, what the hell Syd and Nat signed the three of you up to sing, a distinct slide of piano keys comes in, lighting up the karaoke screen in front of you. 

You grin immediately, in recognition, and to your two best friend’s delight, as they smile too, raising the mics to your lips to sing:

“friday night and the lights are low looking out for a place to go where they play the right music getting in the swing you come to look for a king.”

You laugh as your friends point towards Carmy on the last line. The three of you continue to sing the next part with reckless abandon, and all is forgiven. 

You could care less about how the three of them conspired against you to get you up here. All that matters now is that you’re here, singing one of your favorite songs with your best friends, grooving and dancing to the ABBA classic, as you prepare to marry your best friend. 

“you can dance you can jive having the time of your life ooh, see that girl watch that scene digging the dancing queen.”

"what good is love without any strings?" dayglow, 'close to me'

“Baby.”

Carmy groans in response, as soon as he hears the low hum of your voice. 

“Good morning,” you say, a soft smile on your face as you watch him begin to blink his eyes open. 

Carmy turns his head towards you, and he can’t believe he gets to wake up to this – to you – every single day. 

“Hey,” he says back, a soft smile spreading across his lips. “Good Morning, sweetheart.” 

“Guess what?” you ask him with the kind of glee and anticipation as a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Hmm?” he hums, as you smooth a hand over his chest, your body pressed against his side as you look at your soon-to-be husband. 

“We’re getting married today,” you grin, a giddiness that bubbles inside of you. 

“‘S that so?” he mumbles, playfully. 

“Uh huh,” you nod with a chuckle, this time playing along. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”

Instead of replying with words, Carmy swiftly wraps an arm around you, before flipping you so that you’re the one on your back this time. You let out of a shriek and a laugh as he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before adding:

“How could I ever?”

You shrug casually, “Weeeelll…. you just have so much going on up there.” You reach up to where Carmy hovers above you, brushing a golden curl out of his eyes as you continue your little dance. 

“You know, between the restaurant and all that time spent being a genius,” you joke, bantering with Carmy. “Don’t know how you have the time to remember silly little things like wedding dates and what not.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Carmy laughs, shaking his head incredulously, before pressing another kiss, this one much deeper to your lips again. 

And this time, as he pulls away, he gives you one of those languid looks that pierces right through your soul replying much more seriously this time with:

“I could never forget you.”

The way he says it with such conviction takes your breath away, and you know that Carmy means it. The double meaning isn’t lost on him either. 

It’s one of the reasons he called you all those years ago to come teach Marcus; it’s why you ended up in Chicago:

Because as much as he tried, as damn good at compartmentalizing as he’d always been, he really could never forget you. Carmy shakes his head once more, a playful smile on his face as he leans down to kiss you again, wondering when the hell he got this fuckin’ sentimental. As he places his mouth over yours, you’re more than happy to switch gears into doing this dance for a little longer. 

 Carmy traces light shapes against your skin, his mouth pouring love into yours with every kiss, with every drag of his tongue. You gasp as he grinds his hips into yours, making it clear where he’d like this all to go. You pull away, only for a moment, giggling cheekily. 

“Babe, I-,” you begin to protest, as Carmy chuckles, continuing to kiss you with zero intention of stopping “We… we’re going to be late.” This time, you feel his hands snake underneath the t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in, sending chills down your spine. 

“And-, Carm-, I-, I have to do my hair for-, … and what about-, my parents, they’ll-,” you stammer through, your thoughts becoming all kinds of disorganized with the way Carmy’s lips move against your neck this time. 

“I’ll be quick,” he answers with an aplomb you didn’t know he had in him. 

“I don’t know if that’s the flex you think it is,” you tease him as his hands begin to cup your breasts, your body responding with an involuntary arch of your back. 

“How fast I can make you come? I think it might be?” he murmurs against your lips, cockily.  

“Carmy,” you moan, as he begins to pull your t-shirt up higher, making it incredibly difficult to think of your to-do list for much longer. 

“Oh fuck it,” you sigh, deciding that, perhaps there’s no harm in getting the honeymoon started a little early anyways. 

“That’s my girl,” Carmy whispers against you, grinning like a Cheshire cat as you surrender to him. 

And he’s right about this too. 

How fast he can make you cum deserves all kinds of bragging rights, awards – a Nobel Peace prize, even – and you’re not sure why you thought getting a head start on doing your hair would’ve been the better idea in the first place. You spend the morning in the arms of the man you plan to spend forever with as he writes love letters, promises to give you the world, declarations of adoration with the pleasure he brings you. And besides, you’re not running all that behind on time anyways – something you realize, as the two of you get out of the shower (a round two, really). 

It takes a little longer than expected – mostly due to the fact that you and Carmy can’t seem to keep your hands off of each other – but against all odds, the two of you pull up to the courthouse right on time. 

It’s a sight for sore eyes: you, running hand in hand with your husband-to-be in a white, halter-cut wedding dress while Carmy follows along, in a classic black suit – no tie around the neck – as the two of you hurry into the courthouse. 

Sure, you could’ve tried to get here early – saved a little time and stress – but where’s the fun in that?

The two of you approach your families, hand in hand, to the sounds of your heels clicking against the marble floors of City Hall. The actual ceremony at City Hall, you’d both decided, would be family only. 

Since you weren’t making a huge deal of it, you viewed this part as necessary paperwork, while the party itself could function as the ceremony and reception. But as soon as you see the look on your parents’ faces, you know this is more than just a few signed papers. You watch as their faces change, from impatient, waiting, eager, to in awe and emotional as you walk towards them. 

You hear Ava shout your name, immediately dropping her dad’s hand as she runs towards you. 

“Ava!!” you exclaim, bending down in your heels and white dress to scoop her up into a hug. You spin her around, just for a moment, before setting her back down on the floor. 

“You look like a princess,” she says, completely in awe, her eyes wide as she looks up at you. 

“You look like a princess, sweetie,” you reply, before giving her another hug. “And you know I can’t wait to hear your song, right?” 

“I picked the best one,” she grins, proudly. 

“I’m sure you did,” you reply confidently, with a playful wink. 

“Oh-ho! Pay up, Rick,” Sugar mutters smugly, to Richie, as Carmy busies himself with greeting both of your parents.

Richie groans, muttering something profane as he not-so-discreetly hands Nat a $20 bill, earning a quizzical look from both of your parents that travels from Carmy and then to you. 

“Sorry,” Richie apologizes, this time directing this one towards your parents as he holds up both hands, respectfully bowing his head. 

You send a playful glare Richie’s way, earning a sardonic laugh from Natalie, as you push right past him and over to your parents. 

“Oh sweetie,” your mom gasps, pulling you in for a tight squeeze. 

“Hi, Mom,” you grin, as you hug her. “Dad!”

“My God, honey, you look beautiful,” your dad says, as it’s his turn next. You hug your dad, exchanging a few words about the morning, asking how they slept, how the hotel is, as your mom and Carmy hug it out. 

This time, he turns his attention towards Carmy, so you release him, letting the two of them have their moment. 

Taking your chance, while your parents are otherwise distracted, you make your way over to where Sugar and Richie stand. 

“What? You guys were betting on whether or not we’d be late?” you ask Sugar, an eyebrow quirked in Richie’s direction. 

“Listen,” Sugar sighs, cupping your face in her hands, endearingly. “You and Carm are nothing if not consistent.” You exchange a laugh with your almost-sister-in-law because you know she’s right. “And for the record, I bet that you’d be-.”

“Just in time!” the judge says, as he approaches the six of you, slipping his judge robe over his shoulders, black leather fold pressed against his chest. “You guys ready to get started?”

Carmy looks over at you, as if he’s waiting for you to take the lead here, and you nod, before the both of you turn back to the judge. 

“Yes.” 

“Great,” he smiles, clapping his hands together once. “Then let’s get you two married!”

"sooner or later, you'll find yourself right where you were, on the corner went looking for her, she had somethin' to tell you, she can't quite remember, but wait for a second, it always comes back to her, you always come back to her." -- the japanese house, 'morning pages'

And after dotting all appropriate i’s and crossing all necessary t’s, with one signed marriage license later, you, Carmy, your parents, Richie and Ava, Sugar, and Judge Thompson find yourself on the green roof of City Hall. 

Carmy stands across you, his hands in yours, offering you a lifetime with one look from the most expressive blue orbs you’ve ever found yourself in. 

“If you’d like to say something, if you prepared any vows… now would be the time,” Judge Thompson says, offering you and Carmy both the space to do so. 

“Oh I think we-,” you begin, ready to decline the opportunity since you figured you’d save it for the reception. 

“Actually uh, yeah. Can we?” Carmen interjects, sending you a look of reassurance. 

“Of course,” Judge Thompson nods, giving you and Carmy the floor. 

“Carm, I didn’t prepare anything for-,” you begin, but he’s quick to put your mind and heart at ease and he interjects with:

“It’s okay. I did.”

“Oh.”

You hadn’t expected this, since you both agreed you’d save any kind of speeches that may or may not happen today during the reception. But as Carmy’s palms grow clammier, a nervous look in his eyes as he searches for the words he’s practiced over the last few days, it becomes clear that he’s been planning this. 

“As you know… I’m not always great with words,” he begins, almost apologetically, letting out a small laugh as he looks to Richie for reassurance. In turn, Richie gives Carmy a sympathetic nod, and you’re practically melting over the fact that he probably asked Richie for help with this. 

Let it rip.

 “I just uh-,” Carmy stammers, because he really, really wants to get this right. “Well, I’ll keep it brief.” He takes a breath, letting all of his nerves out on the exhale before beginning again. 

Let it rip, buddy.

“I have loved you for so long – I think maybe since the day you brought me soup after I uh… you know, spilled my drink on you,” he states, earning the sweetest laugh from you, your friends, and family that came to witness. 

“-- so I promise to love you for even longer, for forever. You changed my life.”

You exhale, trying your best not to cry right here and now, thankful for the mysterious powers of waterproof mascara. 

“Jeez, no pressure,” you joke, dryly, before taking another breath, this time approaching your words with much more seriousness.

“Carmen. I’m so happy… that I changed your life,” you begin, cheekily, earning a laugh from your witnesses once more. “Because you changed mine. And I promise to love you forever.” 

‘I love you,’ Carmy mouths to you, before nodding towards the judge to signal that you’re both done with your vows. 

“Alright then,” Judge Thompson smiles, looking from you and then to Carmen, before uttering the question that will change the course of your life forever. 

“I do,” Carmy replies, his voice even, sure, ready. 

Natalie steps up this time, handing Carmy your ring, and you watch, teary eyed and full hearted as he slides it onto your left ring finger. 

“And do you take Carmen Anthony Berzatto to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Judge Thompson repeats the question, this time for you to answer. 

“Yeah, why the hell not?” you reply, earning a groan from your mother and a playful chuckle from your father. 

“Yes. I do.” 

At Richie’s encouragement, it’s Ava this time who steps up, handing you Carmy’s ring, with the sweetest most excited smile on her face as she looks from you to Carmy. You thank her, before returning your attention to Carmy once more. His eyes search your face, and there’s something so soft, so genuine in them that you think you’re going to cry as you help him put on his new piece of jewelry as well. 

“Then by the power vested in me by the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you, husband and wife,” Judge Thompson concludes, contently.

“Should we-, do we kiss?” Carmy asks, looking from you to Judge Thompson. 

“I’m just a civil servant but you may, yes,” he answers lightheartedly. 

“Let’s go for it,” you shrug, taking a step towards Carmy. 

Instead of answering, he smiles, stepping towards you before planting one on you in front of your friends and family that were invited to this brief ceremony. 

While Sugar claps gleefully, Richie claps along muttering a ‘get a room,’ while you remind Carmy to keep it PG enough for your parents. You giggle, slowly pulling away from the kiss that begins the rest of your life with the man that you love. 

“We did it, baby. We’re married,” you chuckle, in disbelief. 

“Finally,” Carmy sighs, and you can see his smile from his lips to the crinkles in the corners of his eyes. 

It doesn’t take long for your mom to usher both you and Carmy over to a spot in the garden she thinks will be best for pictures, just as the photographer arrives. She wasn’t wrong when she insisted you hire one, that you’d want to remember this day for the rest of your life. The photographer, who is incredibly talented, gets the shots needed up here in the garden, then downstairs, and outside, before you’re all off to Sugar’s place for the reception. 

As you and Carmy sit in the car, having taken a separate one than your parents, you’re giddy with anticipation. 

It’s all so surreal. 

Never in his life did Carmy picture it ever getting this good, but as he looks over at you, your head resting on his shoulder, he presses a kiss to the top of your head, smiling to himself. 

“We did it, sweet girl. We’re married,” he says, repeating your words from earlier. 

“Yeah,” you grin, lifting your head off of his shoulder. 

“We are, Bear.”

"give your heart and soul to me, and life will always be la vie en rose."

“No, Sugar! That’s not supposed to go out yet. Everything’s goin’ out family style. Let’s just take out the apps for-,” Carmy exclaims, stressed over the execution of your wedding reception-slash-brunch, because he just can’t help himself. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, Bear!” she snaps at her brother. “Will you calm down and let us handle this?” 

“I just want everything to-,” Carmy begins, his face blushing a shade darker. 

“To go right. We know. And we know we’re just taking out apps, alright? Everyone else is outside, and everyone’s having a good time so just… relax,” she suggests, her tone serious because she’s just about to kick Carmy out of the kitchen. 

Carmy shifts nervously, hyper-fixating on the happenings of the kitchen, his eyes tracking the movements of one of his caterer, Derek’s, sous chefs. It’s almost as if he needs to give himself a distraction as he asks, blankly:

“Do you uh… you think Mom is actually gonna show?”

Sugar pauses, the question throwing her. 

“I… I don’t know. I called her yesterday. She never picked up. What do you think?” she replies, her voice quiet. 

With your encouragement, you and Carmy had sent his mother an invitation to the brunch, only it’s been Sugar who’s followed up with her. 

“We did what we needed to and if she doesn’t come, then she doesn’t come. I’m not pushin’ it,” Carmy had explained, justifying his actions, or rather, lack there of, to you. 

She’s doubtful, but Nat can’t help the tiny glimmer of hope she has in her heart that Donna might show, even if she knows it’s unrealistic. In fact, her mom had barely been interested in stopping by as of late, ever since she’d told the Berzatto matriarch that she was pregnant. She keeps telling herself that it doesn’t matter – that it’s probably better if Donna doesn’t show – but it doesn’t help ease the disappointment she feels about the situation as a whole. 

“Doubt it, honestly. Never even got an RSVP so,” Carmy shrugs, his eyes following one of the caterers as the woman plates a few Hors d'oeuvres on a large serving platter. 

Before Sugar can say anything else about their mom, Carmy’s impulse takes over as he opens his mouth to give feedback to one of Derek’s assistants. 

“Carmy!” she snaps, blocking his pathway with her body, before repeating one more time:

“Let. Us. Handle this.”

“I mean, are any of us actually surprised, Nat?” Sydney adds, as soon as she enters the kitchen from where she’s been outside in the backyard, in search of another plate to bring out. “He’s a control freak! We know this!”

“I-,” Carmy starts, knowing it’s no use protesting, as both Sugar and Syd begin guiding him out of the kitchen and into the living room. 

“C’mon, Carm. Why don’t you go see what your wife is up to?” Sydney suggests, emphasizing your new title, earning a snicker from Natalie. 

“Who’s wife? This wife?” you ask, as soon as your feet hit the bottom of the staircase. 

“Woah,” is all Carmy says. He can’t help but stare, gawking at you in your new dress. 

You’ve changed out of your near-floor length wedding dress into a sleeveless white blazer dress that’s much more friendly to hanging out with your friends and family outside, kept your hair the same, and put on one of those super stay red lipsticks that you’re eager to put through its paces. 

It’s as if time stops when he sees you, and Sugar and Syd both notice, using this time to retreat back to their duties. The only thing that can break his focus right now is the way that you let a carefree laugh fly from your lips, as soon as you see that Natalie’s using the future baby’s baby gate that Nat must’ve purchased early, to officially block Carmy from coming back to the kitchen. 

“What?” Carmy asks, only to be met with a gesture towards what Natalie is doing. 

He frowns, immediately seeing the baby gate his sister has put up. 

“You know, I’m not a baby,” he pouts at his sister. 

“Then stop acting like one!” she parries right back, before disappearing into the kitchen to help out your caterer. 

Quick to console your husband, you wrap your arms around your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“They’re only trying to make sure we have a good time, Bear,” you offer, sympathetically, only to be met with a heavy sigh because you know it feels near-impossible for him not to be in the kitchen. 

“You trust Derek right?” you ask this time, referring to the caterer that Carmy hand-picked for your wedding. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

“Okay. Then let’s go out there. Make our grand entrance,” you suggest, a playful smile on your lips. 

“Yeah,” Carmy nods again, this time a little more sure about taking a step away from what’s happening inside the kitchen. You take his hand, leading him towards the back door that opens up to the backyard. 

You’re truly amazed at what everyone involved has been able to do this morning, while you and Carmy were off at the courthouse getting married. Long tables pushed together and covered with tablecloths function as the main attraction of the you-and-Carmy-wedding-reception-brunch, filled with ceramic plates, printed menus, apps on serving platters, taper candles and flowers in all kinds of little to big vases. 

The minute the two of you enter the backyard area that’s been transformed into a wedding venue, you’re met with cheers, ooo’s and aaaaah’s, claps, and congratulations by your friends and family. 

“Sugar really knocked this out of the park,” Carmy says, in awe as he takes in the scene. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to trust, I guess.”

You nod, happy to hear the confidence in his voice as you agree, “That’s my guy!”

There’s a banner that hangs across a much smaller table, the one that holds the stunning wedding cake Marcus has made for you that reads, Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Berzatto.

“See? I told you I couldn’t wait to be Mrs. Berzatto,” you joke with Carmy, as the two of you walk hand in hand towards the table. 

“I think I like the sound of that more than I should,” Carmy smirks, a glimmer in his eyes that says ‘I can’t wait to get you alone.’

“Can’t wait for you to show me later,” you wink, referring to the long weekend you plan on spending with Carmy as a pre-honeymoon. “C’mon. We should probably go say hello.” 

“So… you two married now or what?” Marcus asks, as soon as the two of you approach the table. 

You hold up your left hand, showing off your new ring, earning grins and more cheers from your friends and family. 

“That’s what I’m talking about!” he celebrates, while Tina simultaneously and enthusiastically cries out: “Congratulations, babies!”

The plan is to divine and conquer. While you chat with Gary, Carmy lets himself become enveloped in Tina’s arms and praise, as the two of you make your way down the table saying hello to your guests: your parents, Marcus, Tina, Ebra, Fak, Gary, a few others from the restaurant, while. 

Carmy’s glad you decided to keep this wedding small: close friends and family only, because he’s not sure he could’ve done any more of this. It’s just close friends from the restaurant and your parents. You’d even decided earlier that this weekend would be chill enough that you’d celebrate with Maya and Liz a few months later when you and Carmy stop in New York before the official honeymoon, planning another celebration with your New York people for later. 

Besides, you don’t mind celebrating you and Carmy a few more times, after all. 

Finally, you’re both able to settle into the empty chairs seated right next to your parents in the middle of the table labeled ‘bride’ and ‘groom.’ It’s a Saturday well spent, being celebrated by some of your favorite people in the world on a day you made a promise to your favorite person in the world. It doesn’t take long for everyone in the kitchen to join you at the table: Sugar, Richie, Sydney, and Pete, and once the meal is served, family style, you’re pulling up chairs and insisting that Derek and his team join you as well. 

The menu is perfect, and you can see why Carmy’s been trying to get this guy to come work for him for so long. Next to Carmy’s, this carbonara might be your second favorite carbonara on the planet. After all the eating, drinking, and merry-making, it’s Richie who steps up to start the speeches, gently tapping a butter knife against a champagne glass as he stands at the table. 

“Can I get everyone’s attention?” he asks, his voice loud. Richie raises his champagne glass as he begins his speech with:

“Now as the best man and this Bobby Flay-motherfucker's cousin, I think I earn the right to kick this thing off, eh?” earning a laugh from everyone around the table. 

“To Carmy and his much, much better half,” he continues, earning a laugh from everyone around the table. Your mom squeezes your hand under the table, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Sydney nudging Carmy softly as Richie addresses you. 

“You once made me $150 richer.” You laugh, exchanging a look with your now-husband, as you fondly remember the day you returned to Chicago, only to learn that the entire restaurant staff of The Bear had been betting, not on if, but on when you’d return.

“You see, we all took bets – all of us – that you were comin’ back after that first week you spent here in Chicago, and you know why? I think it was obvious to any jagoff with a pair of eyes that what you and Cousin had was something special – something not to be missed, or overlooked, or skipped over. And thank God you two idiots woke up and figured it out yourselves. You did good, cousin. And I know your brother would’ve wanted to be here for this. I love you, man. I love you both.”

“To this very special day, and to the rest of your lives. Cheers.”

“Cheers!” everyone repeats, raising their glasses, clinking in celebration. 

The upside to having a small wedding party is having a small wedding party, and the downside is that everyone who feels the need to get in a word does so. While Ebraheim waxes on about love as a metaphor, Marcus keeps his toast short, leading to the cutting of your wedding cake:

Vanilla bean cake, with a clementine curd, a swiss meringue buttercream, decorated with delicate flowers, citrus, and dollops of curd to finish. 

Richie slips out with Pete momentarily, earning a few quizzical looks from both Carmy and Nat as she gets up from the table to make sure they’re not trading punches in the driveway. It’s not till Richie returns with Pete, carrying a rented little karaoke machine for Ava. Hand in hand, you watch as Natalie guides Ava up and out of her chair, and over to the head of the table, handing her the microphone. 

“You ready, sweetheart?” she asks, earning a confident nod from Ava. 

The beginning of the famous Taylor Swift begins to play, and you and Carmy exchange a knowing look as she begins to sing along. 

“we were both young when i first saw you i close my eyes and the flashback starts i'm standin' there on a balcony in summer air.”

As Natalie and Pete watch on, Pete hugs his wife close to her, tears in his eyes as he whispers: 

“This is going to be us very, very soon.” 

“Yeah,” Nat nods, holding back her own tears as she notices how proud Richie looks, and how happy Ava seems to be. 

It’s not that she wants Donna here. Realistically, she knows that it would be a nightmare, most likely descending into drama and chaos from the minute she walked in, but she can’t believe that her own mother didn’t come to her son’s wedding. She shouldn’t be surprised, but it hurts more than she imagined, doing this, watching Carmy get married, having this baby with Pete, all without her. 

Ava finishes her Taylor Swing song to a resounding and enthusiastic round of applause. Marcus cheers her on while you and Carmy share a soft, chaste kiss, welcoming Ava with open arms as she runs towards you. 

“That was so good, baby,” Richie exclaims, when it’s his turn to scoop Ava up into his arms as you get out of your seat. Allowing Richie to sit next to Carmy while the two gush over her performance, you get up, eager to help put the karaoke machine away. 

As she watches, Nat reminds herself that this is what family looks like – this is the family she wants for her baby – even if it means something, someones, are missing.

And it’s as if she can’t hold back her tears anymore, excusing herself as she jerks her body away from Pete’s grasp, hurrying back inside so as not to cause a scene. 

“What just-?” Pete begins. 

“I’ll go,” you assure him, having witnessed the whole interaction. “I-, it’s not you, Pete. I’ll go.”

It doesn’t take you long to find Nat, though she’s not where you expected her to be, having run all the way upstairs when you find her sitting on the floor of the baby’s nursery – one you helped paint and get ready over a month ago. 

“Hey, everything alright?” you ask, as you gently push the door open. 

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” she sniffles, wiping tears out of her eyes as she realizes she’s no longer alone. 

“Nat, what… what’s going on?” you ask her, joining her on the floor. 

But it seems as if your question only makes it worse as her face crumbles once more, beginning to cry. 

“Oh no! I-, Nat, sweetie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it even worse.”

“No, no, you didn’t. It’s just these… stupid pregnancy hormones!” she exclaims, frustratedly, earning a small laugh from the both of you. 

She takes a beat, and then a breath, and then finally, she feels ready to tell you. 

“It’s Mom,” she admits, even though she really doesn’t want it to be. “I just can’t believe she didn’t show. It’s stupid, I know.” 

You nod in understanding, before scooting a little closer to her, “It’s not stupid! And I’m sorry. For the both of you, really. Carmy doesn’t want to talk about it but, I know he’s some combination of relieved and disappointed too.” 

Sugar sighs, “Yeah that uh, that sums it up pretty well. About anything involving Mom these days.” 

Nat takes another breath, and another beat, because she knows she’s safe to share this with you. 

“I just… I’ve just been thinking a lot… with the baby and everything. About family. About motherhood. I mean, your parents are so great and I-. I’m just sad for us, you know?”

“I’m sad for you too,” you empathize, rubbing soothing circles on her back, before leaning back on both of your hands instead. 

“God, I’m so sorry. It’s your wedding day and I’m causing all the drama,” Nat begins to apologize. 

“Oh, you have nothing to be sorry for!” you interrupt her, quick to dismiss any notion of that. “You lent us your house and put together all of this in your backyard on top of accompanying us to the courthouse! You have nothing to apologize for.”

Sugar nods slowly, processing what you’ve just said, realizing that you and Pete have been such big role models of unconditional love for her. 

“Wanna know what I think?” you ask, your voice a little more optimistic this time. 

“What’s up?” she asks back, stealing a glance your way. 

“I think… that now that I’m a Berzatto… and with your little Bear on the way,” you begin, painting her the picture. “We’ve got a whole new chance to write a new chapter for the Berzattos.” 

She looks your way once more, because these are the words she didn’t know she needed to hear. 

“And with that… we can make this… make our families anything we want them to be filled with love, and joy, and-, well, only a little drama because you know, you guys are… you. But… Sug. This can all start with us, you know?”

“You really think so?” she asks you, a hopeful look in her eyes. 

“Yeah,” you answer, confidently. 

She nods slowly once more, almost as if she’s letting herself believe them. 

“Thank you. For checking in on me. For… this,” she says softly, sniffling again. 

“That’s what sisters are for,” you repeat her words back to her, one’s that she’s said to you time and time again. 

“We should probably get back out there,” Sugar suggests, sitting up a little taller this time. 

“Yeeeaaaaahhhhh,” you sigh, disappointedly, this time making a joke as you continue with: “We don’t want to start any rumors about us running away together. 

Nat snorts with laughter, thanking you for always making her laugh, as you stand up, making your way to your feet. You hold out your hands, helping Nat up to hers this time, before the two of you head back downstairs. 

“Hey,” Carmy says, as soon as he sees the two of you. “Pete said you disappeared.”

“We were just talking about some stuff,” you reply, sharing a look with Sugar before releasing her hand. 

“I’ll leave the two of you to it,” she says, before slipping out through the back door. 

“Everything okay?” Carmy asks, his brow knitted together in concern. 

You nod, “Yeah, she’s alright. How’re you doing?”

“Today? I’m the luckiest man in the world,” he replies, a smile on his lips that makes you melt. 

“Damn right you are,” you reply, pressing your lips against his. 

It’s a private moment for just you two, where you can kiss him like you want to, and you have to admit that the lipstick holds up. Wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands go to your waist, you propose a grand idea to your husband:

“Now that cake has been cut… what do you say… we spend a little more time with our guests, say our goodbyes… then we get our honeymoon started early? Think uh… our room at the Langham should be ready by now.”

“Thought we already did that this morning,” Carmy smirks, kissing you again. 

You giggle, leaning your forehead against his, “You know what I mean, jerk.” 

Carmy scoffs, shaking his head incredulously as he feigns hurt, “Married for a few hours and you’re already insulting me.” Instead of adding anything else, he simply pulls you in closer by your hips murmuring against your lips:

“Alright then, Mrs. Berzatto. Then let’s go say goodbye to our guests.”

“it's a love story, baby, just say, "yes" – taylor swift, ‘love story’

#the bear hulu #the bear fx #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x oc #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #comfort and chaos #still into you #make my heart surrender #dont want to walk alone #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy x you #carmy x reader

[just-some-trans-nobody]

December Christmas Monster stories

December 13.) Half giant x GN reader

Warnings: depression, hating job, job quitting, size difference

Minors Don't Interact!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Working as one of Santa's elf was a seasonal job, the pay was shit but it was fun. Pretty much volunteer work. There was a bonus though. It came in the form of the man playing Santa named Treg. 

He was a half giant and standing next to him in your work uniform you really did look like a Christmas elf. Treg was kind to everyone, always smiling. You couldn't help but be drawn to him. It helped that you were one of his main elfs. Every shift he had you worked too. Always right next to him helping him with the kids or getting him water. Any time he had to get up and walk somewhere you were with him to make sure he didn't bump into any kids. It was hard seeing kids when you were that big. Treg was always so happy when you helped him out. Constantly thanking you for every little thing you did for him. 

Treg often would make you a cup of hot chocolate during your shared break. It always tasted better when he made it. The two of you would always chat the whole break before going back to going to work. 

The work gossip was that both of you were dating in secret. Though any time the two of you were confronted Treg vehemently denied it. You did so too, just less convincing than him. One of your coworkers noticed this and asked you in private if you wished you were dating him. You frowned as you nodded your head. They gave you a look of pity before walking away. 

They must have said something to Treg because after that day he started avoiding you. It hurt badly when suddenly your schedule changed from his. You had been replaced by another worker who preferred to pose for the photos and flirt with all the parents instead of helping Treg. Not that you could do anything about it, you were assigned to a different Santa. He was a satyr who didn't care about his job, he worked the dead shift hardly anyone came around when he worked and he liked it that way.

Your fun job became miserable in less than a week all because you couldn't get a handle on your dumb one sided crush. You didn't smile at work anymore, what was the point?

Before the end of the second week you had turned in your uniform and quit. You went home and cried that night. The next day you went out to the store to go get comfort food. Walking around the store you filled your cart with tooth rotting snacks. Your heart hurt so you wanted your stomach to hurt more to take your mind away from it. 

Walking around absentmindedly you didn't pay attention to anything until you heard heavy footsteps. Looking up you saw Treg approaching you. You had the urge to run away from him but found yourself frozen in place. “Y/n? I heard you quit? Why did you do that?” His voice sounded heart broken. Why did he sound heart broken? Treg was the one who rejected and ignored you, not the other way around. 

“What does it matter to you? You made it clear you didn't like me when you started ignoring me.” You snorted, turning your head to look anywhere but at him. “I only started distancing myself because I realized I liked you too and that scared me. I'm constantly scared that I'm not going to know your next to me and I'll accidently hurt you.” Treg explained stepping closer to you. “Didn't every day we worked together prove I could handle that? You never hurt me before, why worry about that now?” You asked, glancing at him. “Because the thought of being with you meant a higher chance of hurting you but when you were gone it hurt even worse.” His eyes were starting to water as he talked. 

How could you be upset at that face? Looking down at your feet you stepped forward reaching your hand out to hold his sleeve. “I'd take that risk to be with you.” You told him, looking up at him. “For you? I'd risk anything.” Treg said carefully, holding your hand in his large one. You looked like a doll compared to him, you kind of liked it. 

#monster #monster fucker #monster stories #monster boyfriend #monster x male #monster x reader #monster x female #monster x human #monster x male reader #monster x fem!reader #monster x female reader #monster x nonbinary reader #giant x reader #half giant #half giant x reader #size difference #size k!nk #december christmas monster stories

[pauking5]

Under the Mistletoe 🍒🌿

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader

Genre: tooth-rotting fluff, mutual pining,

Word Count: 5.3k+

A/N: I did promise you more Zoro so here it is! This one has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I didn't really feel like posting it but something told me to do it now. Merry belated Christmas everyone and happy holidays! Hope you like it :)

ps: Thank you to @jiyaxedits for these really pretty dividers! They put me out of my misery a little 🫶

Zoro wasn't big on celebrations. Birthdays or holidays didn't really exist in his vocabulary for the sole reason that he was happy to drink on any occasion. He didn't need a date in the calendar to tell him when to open a bottle of alcohol.

That was until you joined the straw hats.

You were the total opposite of his detached nature to almost everything that required an extra emotional effort. Even with that, it wasn't long until you piqued his curiosity.

Observing you, he came to the conclusion that you were emotion in pure form. You showed your caring nature for people in any way you could. Whether it was by helping out one of your fellow crew mates with something or just trying to ease their own load, you were always there. He didn't think much of it until he felt self-conscious enough to get involved and help out like you did. He wouldn't admit it but you had an influence on him.

The more time you spent together the more he was drawn to you, seeing things in a different light. Before he knew it, all those random dates in the calendar held some kind of meaning to him because they held a special meaning to you.

Although, he still didn't fully understand why you got so excited whenever one of those dates would approach. You would spend days planning the activities for the day, often going out for your way.

You would go over a special menu with Sanji, making sure all meals of the day and the dessert were covered. Then you would take Nami shopping for decorations wherever you happened to be docked, picking things that encapsulated the occasion. Usopp would also pitch in with helping you put the decorations up and add a tad bit more cheer to the atmosphere.

He noticed you and Luffy made a great team when it came to picking out small attentions for the crew. You both knew the crew better than anyone and it showed not just on those days, but the ordinary ones too.

In short, everyone became an extension of your excitement for the day. Well, everyone except Zoro.

You knew he wasn't used to the whole we are a family thing and you planned on changing that.

When you joined the crew he was really reserved. But after spending some time together, you managed to crack him open. You learned more about him, what he liked and what he disliked.

You tried pulling him out of his stoic bubble and it seemed to work because little by little, he started helping out too. It was small things like helping you fix the table before the food was served or picking the drinks out by preference of each straw hat. That's where you noticed that his love language was acts of service.

As small as they were, those acts were sincere and full of kindness. Whenever someone thanked him for his help, you would catch a glimpse of his face lighting up, the rarest smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

He cared and protected people in that way. It spoke volumes of his love he had for his crew and you admired that. Even if he didn't realise the impact he had, especially on you.

The winter holidays were approaching fast, but it seemed like the cheer was absent on the Going Merry. The latest adventure left the crew exhausted and without a trace of enthusiasm. So much, that it was Christmas Eve and you didn't have a tree up, festive decorations hung around the ship or any food ready to munch on.

Out of all yearly celebrations, Christmas held a special place in your heart. It was a time to get together with your loved ones and celebrate the bond you have.

This would be your first Christmas with the crew and you have been looking forward to it for a while. They made you feel so appreciated and welcomed into their own little family and you wanted to return the appreciation.

So, bracing for your proposal to be rejected and a small hope that it would be accepted, you marched around the ship like an elf and pulled everyone out of their rooms and onto the deck.

Most of them didn't look too happy to be disturbed. Nami was in the middle of working on a map and she almost put her foot through your face for pulling her away from it. Sanji was putting some clean dishes away when you dragged him out, wet towel hastily tossed on his shoulder in the process. Luffy and Usopp were already on deck messing around. They seemed to be the only ones a little ecstatic for what you wanted to tell them.

But before you could start your speech, you noticed a certain straw hat was still missing.

Zoro was the hardest one to find, especially when he didn't want to be found. You searched his room, both the upper and lower decks, including the storage room filled with alcohol barrels and bottles. There was no sign of his presence anywhere on the ship.

You were ready to give up until you remembered there was one place you didn't search in, the crow's nest. And that's exactly where you found him, napping the day away.

Too engrossed in rushing to get everyone on deck, you were about to shake his shoulder. But as your eyes registered the sight in front of you, you halted all movement.

You saw him napping before, but none of those times did he look so deep in restful sleep like he did now.

He laid on his back, one of his hands propping up his head like a pillow, His legs were placed against the wooden mast. His body was angled in a way that the mast cast a shadow big enough to shelter his eyes from the early afternoon sun. His chest rose up slowly in sync with his soft snores, mouth slightly open. The light made his green hair look so soft that it took everything in you not to rake your hands through it.

There was something about him that put you at peace. Maybe it was the way his earrings jingled against each other and you knew he was nearby. Or the way his deep brown eyes changed to a warmer shade of chocolate while watching the sunset with you. You fell for those eyes of his a while ago and you didn't want to stop the bottomless drop at all.

Everything about him was peace to you. Even during battle, when he sliced through enemies and his blades were drenched in dirt. Or when he teased his crew members about something, with anything but good intentions in his head. Despite his hellish reputation, to you it felt like the heavens sent him down to earth. To fight and protect what he believed in with his all, laying down his own heart on the blade of his swords.

Your thoughts were cut short as the man before you stirred awake.

He sensed your presence for a while and contemplated whether he should make you aware that he knew you were staring at him. He wondered what you were sighing so softly at and couldn't hold in his curiosity anymore.

He opened his eyes to find you sitting down next to him. Your eyes locked with his and you just gazed at each other for a while. Adjusting the hand behind his head, he tilted it to get a better look at you.

You had that smile on your face, the one that grew on him the past months you've spent together. One look at it and it made every single one of his worries disappear into thin air.

That's the impact your whole presence had on him. Besides pure emotion you were also tranquility and harmony, while he was chaos and destruction. You neutralised his worst fears when he needed it the most with just that one smile and he couldn't get enough of it.

Your eyes suddenly went wide with realisation. You were supposed to get back to the other straw hats with him in tow a while ago. Wrapping your hand around his free one you tugged him up with you.

"Whoa, slow down. What's the rush?"

"You. Me. Downstairs. Now. Will explain in a bit."

He let you pull him downstairs on the deck where everyone else waited expectantly.

"Sleeping beauty decided to finally join us," joked Sanji.

"Is that a compliment, sandwich maker?"

"We thought you ditched us for a second," added Usopp, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

You and Zoro were both confused. But then it hit you that something warm surrounded your palm. You looked down to see his hand securely intertwined with yours. Your hand was definitely on his forearm when you left the crow's nest. He probably caught your hand in the rush of pulling him down the stairs to avoid breaking his neck.

His eyes followed your widened ones to see your hands together.

He held your hand before, when he would hand you a plate with food or to help you down from the ship onto land. But not once did he hold it fully like this. His palm was entirely enclosed around yours. Your hand looked so small in his. Like it fit just right with his larger one.

You let go first and he hesitated a little. He wanted to hold it a bit longer. To study all the ridges on your knuckles as his fingers would thread between yours. To just hold them.

But he was conscious of the four pairs of eyes darting between the two of you and he let go of your hand, going back to his serious self beside you.

Shaking the awkwardness away, you turned back to the crew, remembering the task at hand.

"So, I gathered you all here today because it's Christmas Eve!" you said, waving your hands around enthusiastically, though your joy wasn't that well received on the other end.

"Okay and?" asked Nami, rather devoid of the holiday spirit.

"What do you mean okay and?! It's Christmas Eve! We don't have a tree up, decorations or any food to properly celebrate."

"I don't get why we need to celebrate a white bearded old man breaking into people's houses every year," deadpanned Nami.

"Yeah, I kinda have to agree with her on that," said Zoro, scratching the back of his neck.

"It's not just about Santa. We also celebrate the appreciation and love we share together as a crew," you stated. You took to walking around the deck, as their eyes followed you trying to make sense of your behaviour.

"Christmas is about making new memories by spending time together. It's putting up decorations and dressing up silly. We could set up our Christmas tree here," you pointed to the tall mast in the middle. "String a few sets of lights up from the jolly roger all the way down the veils to the decks, like a multi-coloured umbrella," you said excitedly, turning back around to them.

"Christmas is also a time to reflect back on the past year and talk about our best moments over a hearty dinner. It's a moment where we all get to be honest with each other. To share the hope, the joy and the love we hold for each other," you concluded.

You looked at them with hopeful eyes, earnestly wishing they will understand why you were so hellbent on doing something for the day.

But all you got in response to your speech was unsure neck rubs and a sense that you were the only one who wanted to celebrate today.

You felt like your excitement was maybe a little too much this time. Maybe they really just wanted a peaceful night in, doing whatever they had planned by themselves.

None of them were saying anything and it only made your uncertainty grow inside.

Maybe forgetting any of this even happened was better than making them feel like they should be doing something they weren't comfortable with.

Defeated, you took a step back and decided to retaliate.

"Actually, we don't need to do anything extra today. We can just chill out and all," you laughed nervously. "Sorry for bringing you guys out here for nothing."

You mumbled the last part and turned on your heels to make your way back to your room. Maybe not saying anything would have been better than whatever that was.

The crew remained on deck after you left. If anyone felt defeated it certainly wasn't you, but them. Especially the green-haired swordsman.

His mind was stuck on you. On the way your eyes twinkled with joy the more you gestured around you how you pictured everything. On the smile that never left your lips as you spoke of what the holiday means to you. And the fact that you wanted to spend this with them, your current family.

For him, the concept of family was a hard one to grasp. He didn't think he would ever feel as welcomed as he felt with the family he had back at the dojo. With Kuina.

He thought he would never be able to find a place he belonged. Until he came across the straw hats. They annoyed him, pestered him, drove him crazy most of the time. But they cared. They fully supported his dream to become the greatest swordsman in the world, without doubting his ambition or his skills in the slightest. And that meant a lot to him.

They grew on him and they felt like family. That included you too. It was you who showed him how to give back to the people that support you relentlessly. It was you who taught him that opening up to people wasn't selfish. That he should be open to not just giving but receiving too. The straw hats had a lot of love for him and they would stop at nothing to show it.

That's what you did a few moments ago. You put yourself out there, doing everything to convince them that celebrating shouldn't be a chore. That you wanted to celebrate your new found family.

He felt his heart break when he watched you back away like that. He knew you were beating yourself up for it, for thinking you were too much. But that wasn't true. He wanted to tell you that he wanted to celebrate with you. But it took him a while to register everything you said and that was one of the things he was working on.

By the looks on their faces, everyone was questioning themselves now. Searching for some kind of meaning that Christmas could have for them. Somewhere, deep down inside their hearts, they wanted to celebrate this too, just as much as you did.

Something seemed to click in their heads after a while, their eyes connecting in a knowing look. You could consider them convinced because they took the initiative themselves. It just took a while for your words to process.

"You know what, she's right," started Sanji. "I haven't cooked a hearty Christmas meal for ages. I could do with a roast, some eggnog and a cake."

"I can clean up around here a little. Get the table out here and some chairs," chimed Usopp.

"We could go into town and see what decorations we can find," added Luffy, linking his arm with Nami's in excitement.

"All we need is someone to go and get a Christmas tree," said Nami.

All eyes moved to the green-haired man leaning on the stair railing. He was the only one who hasn't pitched in with anything yet and they all looked at him expectantly.

He, on the other hand, did not seem to get the idea, looking back at everyone slightly confused.

"What?"

"You really are an idiot," face palmed Nami.

"Hey! Why are you calling me an idiot?"

"She was suggesting you would go and get a tree that we could put up over here," said Usopp, motioning to the mast. He realised that it was the spot you said you wanted it to be in.

"Why me?"

"You're forgetting you're the more muscular one out of all of us," uttered Nami, pinching his bicep. She thought that if she spoke to his ego he would realise what he needed to do sooner. "You don't expect me to carry it back to the ship now do you?"

"Fair point."

Finally, with tasks assigned and a plan for battle in place the straw hats took to their duties. They decided Christmas would happen this year, though it would take some work. And possibly a miracle.

It's been a while since you retreated back to your room. You stared at the Christmas plan you had written down on several sheets of paper on your nightstand, tracing the colour coded activities as you sighed. Maybe next year.

A knock on your door pulled you from zoning out. The light from outside dimmed down and the sun was just about to set, telling you it's been hours since your Christmas show on deck.

You walked to the door, wondering who it could be. It was probably Luffy, coming to check on you. But you were surprised to open it and find a rather distressed Nami. She had a weird smile on her face that was unlike her. What was even weirder was the silver tinsel hanging around her neck and the red and white santa hat on her head.

"We need some help out on the deck," she smiled wider, holding out a bag filled with different colored tinsel to you.

Your frown was instantly replaced by a smile matching hers as you took the bag from her hand.

"What made you change your mind?"

"You did," she said, pulling you into a hug that you returned. "We were too deep inside of our heads to see the bigger picture. We gave it some thought and realised you were right, so we got down to business."

You separated and walked down the halls. The walls inside the ship were decorated with lights all the way to the doors leading on deck. Nami's smile only got brighter the closer you got to the kitchen because you opened the doors and got hit with the most Christmas-like smell: Sanji's special roast. He just pulled it out of the oven, steam rising in the air spreading a divine aroma. But that wasn't the only thing cooking.

The oven was still working, baking a few batches of cookies in all kinds of shapes. A warm scent of cinnamon embraced you, followed by zesty citrus touches.

"It smelles like heaven in here, Sanji!"

"I'm glad angel," he smiled at you warmly.

Nami beckoned you outside. Luffy and Usopp were up in the crow's nest, struggling to untangle what looked like five rows of lights to hang from the jolly roger down to the veils. Just like you told them you wanted them.

You quickly climbed up to them with Nami in tow to help them before they could get hurt.

"Guys, you didn't have to do all this."

"Of course we did!" jumped Luffy. "You do so much for us and it was about time we paid you back."

"Well, at least let me help with the rest."

"Please do!" cried Usopp. He was tangled in one of the light sets from top to bottom.

"We could use you as a Christmas tree instead," joked Nami. "We just have to plug you in."

Everyone laughed at that. This was the atmosphere you desperately wanted, with the people you loved the most. It was where you belonged.

The only one you haven't seen around was Zoro. No one mentioned his whereabouts. All you heard was Nami complain that he's been gone for hours and that he ahd one of the easiest tasks to do. Maybe Christmas was a little too celebratory for him.

You just finished hanging up the last set of lights from the crow's nest when you heard grunts and enraged thudding of boots on the main deck. You made your way down only to be met with a sight for the history books.

There he was, hidden by a sturdy tree that was a shade of green darker than his hair. He carried it on his shoulders like it weighed nothing. But then again, he was Zoro. It must be something normal for him.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at him. The look on his face told you he was a bit annoyed. Well, by the way his jaw ticked, probably very annoyed at the fact that no one rushed to help him with the huge wood angled on his back.

Luffy and Usopp got the idea and rushed to take it off his shoulders. They lifted it up on its trunk and that's when you all noticed the tree was actually massive.

Zoro rolled his shoulders to get rid of the ache in them and proceeded to dust his clothes off the tree's fallen pine needles that were scattered across his body.

"We thought you got lost," said Nami.

"Well, I did get lost," he deadpanned.

A lot of pine needles got stuck in his hair. He shook his head around to get rid of them but there were still some sticking out between his green strands. He raked his hand through them but he still couldn't get them out. He huffed frustrated in defeat and you decided to put him out of his misery.

Walking in front of him, you got on your tip toes, reaching out with your hand to whip the rest of the needles out. He froze in place, hands mid-way to his scalp to do it himself. He let them back down to his sides and watched as you took them out of his hair one by one and threw them away on the ground.

You had your bottom lip between your teeth, focused on getting the little fuckers out. He bent his knees so it would be easier for you to work on finding them without having to stay on your tip toes for too long. Once you were done and your heels were flat on the ground, you clapped your hands to get rid of any leftover pine needles. When your eyes lifted back up you realised just how close you were standing as you were eye to eye with him. You sucked in a breath as his eyes studied your face.

He was happy to see that you had a smile on your face this time, which was a hundred times better than that frown you had when you went to your room a few hours ago. In return for that bright smile of yours you always gave him, he gave you one of his own.

This smile was new, more rare than the smile he usually wore around you. You could literally see his pearly teeth. The muscles in his cheeks pulled the edge of his lips to curve up and his eyes crinkled into crescents. It was like a half smile, half smirk kind of smile. And it drove you absolutely crazy.

Who was he and what did he do with Roronoa Zoro?

"Uh, Zoro? Why does the tree have pine cones on it?" asked a confused Usopp.

His smile fell, eyes narrowing on the straw hat behind you.

"Is that not how it's supposed to be?"

"Where did you get it from?" asked Nami. "It's been hours since you went out."

"The woods," he said proudly, hands on his hips.

Everyone burst out laughing at his words, including you. This was too good to be true.

By the looks of it, he used his swords to chop it down. The few tears in his shirt told you the tree fought him a little for cutting it down.

"What are you all laughing for now?"

"There were trees for sale, already cut up in town," wheezed Nami through her giggles.

"I knew that," he said, hands coming to sit around his chest. You narrowed your eyes at him this time and he scoffed, averting his eyes from you.

"Fine! I didn't. I just wanted to get you the real thing."

"That is the real thing too," said Luffy.

"You know what, next time you can all take goldi-locks over there tree shopping. I doubt he'll do a better job at it."

"I heard you, peahead. And I will take you up on the challenge," shouted Sanji from the kitchen.

Zoro helped you to fix the table and lay down the new silver cloth Luffy and Nami bought. It was so long, but so nicely decorated with white snowflakes falling off the edges and different winter patterns drawn along it. You both lifted it up and spread it across the table, smoothing out the ridges from the middle to the edges. One of the longer corners got caught under the leg of the wooden table and you struggled to pull it out.

Zoro rushed over to you. He dove under the table and saw the material was caught in a piece of wood that was sticking out. He unwrapped it and moved to hand it to you just as your hands reached out for it. Your fingers touched again for the second time today and it caught you both in a daze. He gazed at you and you stared at him, feeling like you were transported to a different world.

He leaned in closer to you and you did too. The way his eyes focused on your lips told you that he wanted to seal yours with his. Your lips almost touched, if it wasn't for the unwanted interruption.

"Is the table done, lovebirds?"

You were snapped out of zoning out into each other's eyes. You both looked to your right to see the rest of the straw hats looking at you. You let go of each others hands and went back to getting the table ready.

Zoro brought over cutlery and plates from the kitchen and you arranged them around the table. He also got some glasses and drinks, placing them by preference to everyone's assigned seats.

Finally, Sanji brought the food over and everyone dove in before the steam evaporated completely from the roast. A tray with six eggnog glasses was then served and you all clinked your glasses together, toasting to the crew. You looked around at everyone sat around the table and it finally felt like the holidays.

Zoro was sat next to you nursing a glass of red wine. He couldn't tell if it was the alcohol, the festive cheer or you that had a strange sense of peace wash over him. Like he did not have a worry in the world.

He looked at you from time to time absolutely enthralled by the way your laugh bounced in his ears. You were laughing at one of Usopp's stories that was most likely glazed with little reality and over the top sarcasm. The origins of the story didn't matter, because you seemed to love it by the way the corners of your mouth curled in a knowing smirk. Your eyes crinkled in delight every time he would reach a point in the tale that was too funny not to laugh at and you would let that laugh out and he would laugh with you. It was slowly becoming his favorite sound.

In the midst of it all he found himself smiling at you and the crew that was now his home. Maybe celebrating things wasn't that bad. Especially if they were things that mattered to him.

After dinner, the crew dispersed to each their own. You wandered to the tree and sat in front of it, staring at it in awe. Multi-coloured baubles decorated it so joyfully, together with random kitschy ones. The tinsel waved around every corner, acting like an twinkling extension of the tree itself. More lights were wrapped around it, carefully placed around the pine cones. You chuckled remembering how badly Nami wanted to take them all off and you argued with her to just leave it be. Despite looking as wild as you could get it, it was the perfect Christmas tree.

Zoro was looking for you and found you in front of the tree. You looked so at peace as the lights twinkled, just like your eyes did as you looked at it. He thought that maybe having pine needles even in his boxers was worth it to see you smile that bright at the fully decorated tree.

"I hope it's to your liking," he said, walking beside you.

"It is," you smiled at him. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"I've got one more thing for you."

You eyebrows raised in curiosity as you wondered what it could be. You already opened gifts at the dinner table so it couldn't be that.

"Close your eyes," he instructed.

You did as he told you and waited. He told you to open them and you saw him looking up, smirking at something. You followed his eyes to see a small twig with green leaves and red berries toed to a tree branch above you with a piece of ribbon. You instantly recognised it to be mistletoe.

"Did you just tie that up there?" you chuckled.

"Well, that diminishes the surprise effect."

You wondered if he knew what the plant's meaning was, especially on Christmas. Or if he just got it because it looked pretty in the woods. That was a possibility that kept your heartbeat from rising dangerously.

The confusion on your face told him you weren't sure of his intentions and he decided to make them somewhat clearer for you.

You were busy gauging the meaning of this by staring at the mistletoe. He took a step towards you closer to you, stopping as the tip of your boots touched. You lowered your eyes from the mistletoe only to find him almost nose to nose with you. He grabbed a hold of your hand with his free one, lacing your fingers together and pulled you even closer.

"So, does the man who doesn't celebrate holidays know anything about the mistletoe tradition?" you asked, getting a little closer to him.

"I might be an idiot sometimes, but I do know this much," he scoffed, signature smirk on his face.

"Hmm. You don't look so sure of that," you teased, playing with the hem of his shirt absentmindedly.

"How about I show you then?"

Your breath hitched in your throat as he dipped his head closer to yours. His eyes hungrily darted between yours and your lips waiting for your approval to finally kiss you.

"Want to do the honours?" you asked biting your lower lip in expectation.

"Gladly," he breathed out, closing the distance between you.

It turned out your palms weren't the only ones that fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Your lips did too, moving in sync with desire. Your free hand fisted his shirt to pull him closer as his free one came to sit at the back of your head pulling you impossibly closer. You felt him smile against your lips and you couldn't help but do it too, smilling against his.

You broke apart for air, foreheads pressed flush against each other. Your hands were still laced together, his thumb tracing the outline of your palm.

"This is the best Christmas ever," you breathed out.

He chuckled at that. His hand moved from the back of your head to cup your cheek and your hand came to rest on his wrist. You leaned into his touch, laying a kiss of appreciation on his palm. He smiled at you and that's where you knew that you wanted to spend all your holidays with him. Just like this.

It seemed like you spoke your mind out loud because he grinned widely at you. You buried your head in his chest in embarrasment as he laughed at your adorableness.

"I wouldn't want anyone else to spend them with either," said Zoro, laying your heart at ease.

Thank you for reading! As always, comments, likes and reblogs are welcome!

#roronoa zoro #opla zoro #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #opla #one piece #straw hat pirates #i wish i spent a christmas with them too

[yongislong]

back scratching + dreamies.

genre: fluff AAAAGH, suggestive? i can never tell lmao nonidol!dreamies

note: no cws just tooth rotting fluff, tysm for requesting anon! i hope you enjoy this... word vomit pfft. not proofread im studying GAHH

mark... adores it when you scratch his back. never knows how to ask for it though HAHA. melts every time you do it. especially likes it when you do it to him before bed or as a way to let him know that the sun has risen. its one of the moments in your relationship that is most intimate if that makes sense? he finds comfort in sitting in silence with you after a long day, as the scratching noises break through the silence in your shared room :")

renjun... is so ticklish. honestly prefers to do it to you but he cant help but curl into your side whenever you scratch his back even if he's practically convulsing under you from how much it tickles. will flat out ask you to do it, but he always needs to be in a specific mood since it doesn't happen often! usually asks for it on days where he's been hunched over his computer for a long time and his back is in more pain than usual

jeno... human cat fr. LOVES it when you do it especially if you have longer nails. he feels recharged and it always helps him fall asleep so fast. if you wear fake nails OH MY GOSH he will never ever stop asking you to rub his back, its become a nightly routine after the first time. he will do it to you sometimes but he always falls asleep so quickly that it bothers you pft, his dead weight lands on your back when its only been 10 minutes. likes it when you scratch his abdomen too. just likes feeling your nails rake over his soft skin

haechan... makes it a game LOL. has you write words on his back and he takes his turns trying to guess the phrase you wrote or guess the letters you're tracing. gets SO excited when he guesses right and pulls you in closer. asks for it without words. will always rest his body on your lap and you know that's your cue to get to scratching. the biggest content smile is plastered on his face, even in his sleep! likes it when you scratch closer towards the small of his back since thats where most of his pain is, or so he says lol

jaemin... so so so kind my babygirl. it kinda just happens. he's resting his head on your chest and his big broad shoulders are in perfect view, its kinda hard not to scratch his back esp when he sleeps with no shirt on. so tempting. his skin is so soft and he MELTSS. also likes to play games with you, especially one night when you traced a heart on his back and his pulse SOARED. makes it a point to grab your wrist and tuck your hand under his shirt or drape it along his bare shoulders whenever he wants it from you. also falls asleep really fast. ticklish around the waist OOP

chenle... wake him up with back scratches PLEASE. i feel like he ends up facing away from you during his sleep so in the morning, raking your fingers up and down his spine softly jolts him awake and its so cute. always acts like its his first time on earth when he wakes up btw LMAO. enjoys it so much. prefers if you use your finger tips because he gets itchy whenever you use your nails HAHA. he's so domestic though. he acts like an old man who's been with you for years. grumbles about how nice your fingers feel until his rant is cut short by his snoring

jisung... god he is so. that boy is a Child. truly the most genuinely nice and pure soul. if you were to ever scratch his back, i think you would feel how he would physically sink into the mattress or couch. has never had a partner before so is pretty timid about asking for back scratches but he really really enjoys them. always insists that he return the favor though! clings to you like a koala. makes it a point to make this a ritual since he finds such fun in it. helps him calm down on nights where his anxiety or nightmares are bad. can't help but get flustered every time you dip your palm under the collar of his shirt

#nct fluff #nct blurb #nct reactions #nct soft blurbs #nct soft hours #nct college au #nct icons #nct 127 fluff #nct dream headcanons #nct dream fluff #renjun fluff #jeno fluff #mark lee fluff #mark fluff #jaemin fluff #haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff #jisung fluff #chenle fluff #7dream #nct headcannons #nct dream reactions #nct reader insert #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #7dream fluff #nct dream comfort #nct dream college au #nct dream fic

[stickyspeckledlight]

Happy Birthday; I’ve Made an Appleseed Cake [Yan!Aventurine x GN!Reader]

It’s his birthday; a very happy day.

Ao3

Word count: 2.2k

TW: Stockholm syndrome, toxic relationships, codependency, the gore is very mild this time around but there’s still just a little bit poking out its head, emotional manipulation, hazmat suits needed to navigate this relationship, tooth rotting fluff (haha see what I did there), there isn’t much cake in this story sorry for the misleading title 😔

Note: I’m two hours late but happy birthday to Aventurine! I wrote this over the course of yesterday and stuff and solely on my phone so. If there’s something glaring that’s why. My phone isn’t really what I prefer to write with, but life’s life.

(Written before 2.2)

When he comes back from work, the last thing he expected was for you to lunge at him. 

It was sudden. You froze in surprise, looking at him with a dull, decomposing gaze, frowning in contrast to his smile at the sight of you. A picturesque deer in headlights, seconds away from the afterlife, from its body getting skinned and devoured. It spends its existence solely eating and raising fawn; perhaps not an unfulfilling existence, but not one with much meaning, much else to it besides a single minded pursuit to survival. If it’s lucky, it’ll rot into the ground, infested with maggots feasting on delicious rot. If they’re not, parts of them are stuffed into plastic, the rest placed on a dinner table. In a way, it reminds him of home. 

He was planning to pepper you with burning kisses in his arms, but then he was on the ground. Granted, he did let it happen, but could you blame him? He just had to see what you were planning, especially this out of the blue!

You do not smile or frown. You wear a pretty porcelain mask, even if it’s cracking. Strangely, he can’t quite get a read on you. Interesting. It’s a little silly, however, given that you’re wearing your pajamas. You must’ve woken up recently.

“This is a weird way to say ‘welcome back,’ isn’t it?” 

You blink. He can tell you stifle a yawn. 

He clicks his tongue. Are you stunned, perhaps? Your instincts have always been to freeze rather than run, so either your mind has gone blank or you’re currently engaged with a feverish inner monologue. He knows you’ll get where you need to go eventually, but he’s always been a little impatient. He decides to give you a bit of encouragement. “What’s with that face?” He pinches your cheeks and shapes them into an unamused smile, “Mmn, much better. Now, repeat after me: ‘Welcome home, Aventurine!’ Don’t you think it’s what I’m owed after such a long day of work?”

You begin to shake. Your chest expands, your breathing quickens. A deer, pushed to the brink, pawing at the ground in order to charge straight into the predator’s jaws. He trails his hand to your pulse to find it beats wildly. Good. You’ve gotten a little closer to your destination. Just a little farther, alright? He’ll keep pace, of course. It’s not like he can let you think you can get away with these things forever. Bits and pieces of cracking porcelain fall onto his face.

His eyes narrow, “Sweetheart,” the endearment slithers off his tongue, “any plans you’d like to tell me about?” He moves to sit up, that way he looks down at you, sweet, kind, pathetic thing you are. “You know how much I hate it,” He decides to have his ascent be slow and steady, “when you keep secrets from me.” His hand ghosts your chest, prepared rip them out if need be. “Of course, you can keep them, but all I ask is to make sure you don’t disappoint me, with whatever you’re thinking about,” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, “In fac—”

A snort. He pauses, raising an eyebrow with intrigue. Your mouth begins to wobble.

“haaapeburffdei.” You quickly exhale, the shaking of your body increasing.

“Huh?” He blinks and fully sits up. He secures you by the shoulders as you duck your head. “Mind repeating that?” 

You take in a sharp breath, shaking your head. “Ha…” you breathe, “happ…” and you shake again. At this point, he’s a little concerned. 

“Sweetheart? Did you sniff glue or something?” You tend to cling to levity, so he gives it. It makes you drop your guard for a brief moment, and from there he can unravel y—

“Happy birthday, Aventurine!” You wheeze, before laughing and giving him a tight, desperate hug.

Ah, so that’s what it was. He makes an educated guess of the events at hand:

His sudden arrival caught you off guard (since he usually came later in the day)

You were stunned and left processing his appearance, not at all helped by you having just woke up

But you could suppress your instinctual excitement and joy, which just so happened to manifest in your lunging toward him and pinning him to the ground

At some point, you realize that, oh, you really were in the presence of your awful, cruel, and amazing boyfriend! 

However, you dug your grave with the straight face you started out with. Instead of clarifying things, you decided to maintain it to try and hide your embarrassment 

You crack under no pressure and reveal your intentions. It tracks with your horrid poker face.

You are now very embarrassed but very, very humored and happy

Even he was sometimes a little dizzy going through your woeful mental gymnastics. But he nevertheless greatly enjoys the process. It makes him feel just a little bit full, for just a little bit.

But. Did, did he hear that right? Did he really hear—

A kiss, a cover for voracious fangs, presses against his cheek. “Happy, happy, happy birthday, to my favorite person in the entire room, corridor, starship, planet, world, universe, multiverse, reality…!” you giggle, drunk on joy due to perceived joy. You sigh contentedly, “Ah~. What a great day to be alive…A~ven~tu~rine~, the worst and best person I’ve ever known…mmm~” you nuzzle your cheek against his own, continuing your lovesick and nonsensical blabberings (he’s guilty of greatly enjoying them). Yes—you’re alive. Your chest is flush against his as if they are one, your legs straddle him as if they are nails pinning him to the ground, and your heart beats fast with simple happiness. Utterly full of life; life you struggle to muster without him. It’s not a good thing, but it makes him happy you feel the same way he does every single day. 

His smile is multiple things: euphoria that the mere thought of him has you this excited and overjoyed, delighted confusion at your antics, and blood raining in his body as a conflict wages within. 

He didn’t listen to his sister and came back. To see her, see his clan, (perhaps) blessed by Gaiathra Triclops with the help of the men in black, surely, surely, SURELY they had to have been alive…? Surely, the Katicans paid their blood debts…? 

Surely, his fortune would extend to his family?

But Kakavasha was gifted lifeless eyes. Soon enough, the quicksand swallowed, and the rain washed everything away.

(He has never celebrated his birthday since)

“Aventurine?” He feels a small series of soft pats (lashes of a whip) to his cheeks, “What’s wrong?”

He blinks and lolls his head boyishly, the same way he does whenever someone asks too many questions, “So, who told you about my birthday? An owl? A jewel?”

You are not fooled, but decide to answer his question anyway, “You told me when we were still getting to know each other. Admittedly, I wouldn’t have remembered it if I didn’t keep record of every birthday I know.”

“You record the birthdays of everyone you know?”

You lift your cheek from his (he mourns the loss), and settle your head on his chest, looking up at him. “Yeah,” you say like it’s obvious, “how else do I remember? Besides, it was a good way to be polite to people around me, and also still let me have plausible deniability. I didn’t remember that thing by heart or anything,” you lid your eyes slightly unimpressedly, “I’m surprised you don’t know. I was convinced you scrubbed everything on my phone and computer.”

“I did,” he plays with a strand of your hair, mesmerized by the way it looks in cloudy light, “but as much as I love getting to know you, even I have my limits, dearest. I don’t have three sets of arms and eyes.”

“Mhm…” You slightly deflate; you truly want him to cradle you in his stomach, laughing as you melt into acid. Sigh, him too, him too, sweetheart. But life’s quite the cruel thing, isn’t it? 

Then you lift your head from his chest, and slot your foreheads together. Or course. You know better than to drop something brimming with potential; especially when it could fill your stomach and give it a temporary fullness. “Really, Aventurine,” you soften your eyes, brimming with worry and insatiable love, “If you don’t tell me what’s bothering you,” you take his hand, your left hands, and intertwine your fingers, “then I won’t know what’s making you sad, and if I don’t know what’s making you sad, I might make you sad again. I really don’t wanna do that.”

How sweet. How very, very sweet. His hand snakes to your collar, to unveil your lucky charm. His mouth waters.

You frown and put your hand over his own. “You’re zoning out again,” you mutter. That’s right. You can tell just how uncomposed he really is whenever he’s around you, so heart achingly sweet that he is driven to devour; so breathtakingly [pathetic] he is driven to lock you away from the sun so no one but him can put a bullet through your skull, can adore and take care of you, can leave you alone and longing, can wrap you in cold chains (made of silk and jewels and gold; you have never deserved shackles, and never will). “Please…” you plead, but knowingly or not, you still possess a potent arsenal. You strike him clean through the heart: 

“You know I love you…I love you, Aventurine…so, please let me know, so I don’t ever make you sad again…”

What a dirty trick you’ve used. But who is he to discourage? He plays dirty plenty, so it’s only fair if he lets you, too. Besides, it actually would suit his own desires, right?

Because he too, would love to live a life in your stomach. 

“Alright, alright,” he shrugs, “‘honest communication’ is vitally important to relationships, anyway. Not that I’d let you go over something so minor, but I suppose a bit of…etiquette doesn’t hurt every so often.”

Your eyes light up. “Tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it.”

Although he undeniably feels happy and light, as he nearly always does with you, he cannot escape the way rain drips into him like acid, like blood. 

You two move to the couch, where he tells you. He’s confident about it, of course. He’s sure about it all. But still, no matter what he did, how wonderful he feels in your presence, with his stomach full of you, the cracked pieces rise. 

He doesn’t tell you everything. 

[Admit it, you want to.]

He’s not sure if he should, when it just feels so, so much better to just live with you. 

[No, they’re the reason you talk in the first place! Whew, you must super out of it, if the ‘future’ barely grazes your mind.]

You kiss and lick his tears, a flavor of salty vulnerability spreading on your tongue. You leave a gentle trail of kisses; feathering on his eyelids, soft on his cheek, reassuring on his forehead, possessive on his neck. It’s warm and secure and hellish. The ecstasy from the joy he feels nearly makes him sob again. 

“I’m here,” you reassure, “I’m here, in your arms with you and only ever you,” you chant. Your hand rubs soothing circles into his back, “Thank you for trusting me, Aventurine…thank you so much.” Revenant oaths spill from your lips, “I’ll protect it well. I’ll prove that you made the right choice. I’ll use it so I don’t make you sad again. I’ll be the best person you could’ve told. I’ll be the best person you can tell anything and everything to.”

His organs churn through a wellspring of emotions and memories: disgust, love, reverence, hate, anger, happiness—

“My lucky hound,” he master drawls, “I’ll find a space in my schedule to listen to you.” Kakavasha blinks, and his master’s face morphs into a snarl, “On your knees.” Kakavasha gasps as a boot falls on his head. “You should be worshiping the ground I walk, for being willing to listen to a murderer; a dog to boot. Who else’s going to listen? The cell mates you’ll inevitably kill? Don’t kid yourself, Sigonian scum.”

Love is blinding. 

He smiles and nods. Only you, sweetheart. Only you, and only him. The two of you hold each other in an iron grip. But you’re both hungry.

After a bit of silence, as you two lay on the couch exhausted and spent, you finally speak.

“…I made a birthday cake. Do you just wanna burn it in a bonfire or something?” You ask. “Something like…’from its corpse, arises the flames which cook our s’mores.”

“Then…wouldn’t those just be birthday s’mores? The entire thing becomes pointless then, right?”

“Hm…good point…”

A light chuckle rumbles in his chest. He affectionately scratches your head, “It’s just cake at the end of the day, right? At the end of the day, it’s made just for me. So…it doesn’t have to be burned.” He grins. “At least…not the whole thing.”

“So…that’s what you want to do?”

“Yep.”

You blink, and a wide grin, practically cracking along your face, spreads across your face, “Then let’s do it.”

You two have a lovely, normal, and happy day. Even as rain pours.

#aventurine hsr #yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere aventurine x reader #yandere aventurine #destroyed onset #the cake is very good #because for the past [censored] years reader has nothing but time to hone cake skills #it’s the equivalent to ppl getting super obsessed with making bread during the pandemic lol #anyway #this fic really was some good ol tooth rotting fluff huh #I was considering that title but after a while it didn’t quite fit this fic #so we got generic ass title number 36288393939303 #yippeeeee #happy birthday aventurine! #tw Stockholm syndrome

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! I finally have a question. I'm a tooth-rotting fluff reader and I read most of the ones you provided, save for the AUs which aren't my thing. Read nearly all of the South-Downs cottage ones as well.

That being said, do you guys have any more of those? Also, do you happen to have more "literal sleeping together" fics, since that's possibly one of my favorite tropes, thank youuu. I'm ace so preferably no smut.

Have an absolutely tickety-boo day!

Hi! Glad you've enjoyed our #fluff, #south downs cottage, and #literally sleeping together tags. Here are some non-au fics with a combination of those for you...

A Kiss in the Dark by Mizmak (G)

Crowley and Aziraphale had never shared a bed before, but that would change when Crowley stayed overnight at the bookshop to keep his friend company during a thunderstorm.

Hey Love (That’s the Name We’ve Long Held Back) by IneffableDoll (G)

Crowley wakes up with a white wing covering him and struggles to remember where he is. (He is in his home with his angel, safe and loved and cherished, and everything is okay.)

pausing the world to stay right where we are by snek_of_eden (T)

Aziraphale’s hands grasped at him gently, not in a commanding way, more like making sure he hadn’t stepped away. His pooling blue eyes gazed up at Crowley, and Crowley got the feeling he was just now realising how carefully they were doing this all, just how fondly he was being handled. Maybe he even guessed at the thoughts running through Crowley’s idiotically sappy mind right about now. In any case, he pulled at him slightly needily, almost vulnerable. He always looked this way, when he was at Crowley’s mercy, but there was no fear in his expression at all. “Are you…?” “‘M here, angel,” he said softly, stepping forward and taking Azirphale’s hand in his own. "It's okay." *** Crowley takes care of Aziraphale after Armageddon, exhausted, confused, but most of all, safe.

Acts Of Service by LondonSpirit (T)

The Second Coming is averted, Heaven and Hell is leaving them alone. Now Crowley and Aziraphale have to adjust to life on Earth without them meddling into their affairs! How's their life going to be when it's just them?

The Proposal by EdosianOrchids901 (T)

While struggling with anxiety, Crowley goes to Aziraphale with a proposal. Aziraphale thinks it’s a proposal of an entirely different kind. Can they work out the nature of their relationship, and will Crowley’s idea help with his anxiety?

A Night In by Mackem (T)

Crowley meets his gaze over the top of his glasses again. His grin is as sardonic as ever, but his eyes are creased fondly at the corners. “It starts tonight, angel. I could sort it all out for you, if you want?” “Would you?” Aziraphale smiles broadly. Warmth spreads from his stomach into his chest, bright and sparkling, as Crowley nods without hesitation. “That would be wonderful of you, my dear. You know what I’m like with new-fangled technology.” “New-fangled?” Crowley sighs, seemingly long-suffering, but amusement lurks behind it. “The telly is approaching being a century old at this point, you know. Look, leave it all to me, all right? I’ll pop round tonight.” “Oh, thank you, Crowley!” “No problem. Why don’t I bring some wine with me? We can have a night in.”

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #fluff #literally sleeping together #mod d

[lelengerine]

sweet dream

pairing | jaemin x reader

synopsis | the time wherein you told jaemin about a dream, just because you felt like it — alternatively labeled as jaemin fluff stacked upon even more jaemin fluff.

genre | established relationship au, pretty much domestic jaemin because i am so soft for him pls, purely tooth rotting fluff, mentions of food, use of nicknames for reader (princess)

wc | 0.5k

notes | wrote this during my break since i had a sponty urge to write about jaem (even though im currently writing a fic for him that’s way longer than anything i’ve written so far), so take this as a little peace offering for the time i’ve been away hehe <3 thank you sm for the support you guys give me and i’ll be fully back soon!! likes, rbs, and feedback are always appreciated :>

m.list

“nana, guess what!” your presence floats over jaemin’s shoulder, his figure lounging comfortably on the couch.

he lets out a chuckle from your sudden burst of enthusiasm, craning his head to get a better look at you. from your appearance alone, he could tell you had just woken up from that nap you told him about an hour ago, hair fluffed up and cheeks slightly puffy. “what is it, princess?”

the overwhelming feeling of heat creeps up your face as you shy away, still not used to him calling you by that nickname. “i… i just wanted to tell you i had a really good dream while napping is all.” 

“oh? you told me you haven’t experienced any good dreams in a while.” you seem to have piqued his interest as he gestures you to sit on his lap. with hesitant steps, you shuffle your feet, rounding the corner of the couch before finding comfort in your boyfriend’s embrace. “now go on, tell me all about it.” he eases you in sweetly, brushing a few strands of hair away from your face.

you take a glance out the window, trying to piece together your story before saying it aloud. “i dreamt that we went to a pretty cafe on a windy day, much like the weather outside right now.” you point out, earning a small hum from jaemin. “we ate some macarons by a window seat, and you got this caramel macchiato to try, but you also said you kind of preferred one with a stronger hit of coffee, so i had you order another one because i could just finish your first order instead!”

you ramble off further, not forgetting to note any of the details that miraculously stuck to you in your slumber, and all jaemin’s doing is admiring you with a dopey grin. seeing you talk about the little joys in your life just warmed him up inside, even if you did go off track most of the time.

“hey- were you even listening to what i was saying?” you eventually catch him in the act, and all he can do is nod along to your words. “you were taking about how you wanted fairy lights in our home like in the cafe you dreamt about, right?”

“oh so you were listening.” you playfully poke at his chest, a satisfied chuckle leaving your lips, an action he gladly mirrors. “the dream was pretty mundane, yet it stuck out to me for some reason. guess i just like spending time with you.”

“i like spending time with you too, princess.” he mumbles out softly before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, and you feel the tip of his nose lightly brush against your skin.

“that tickles, nana!” you exclaim, trying to cheekily push jaemin away, yet your efforts are no to avail as he wraps his arms around you with no plans of letting you go.

“if you love spending time with me, then why don’t we just stay like this for a while.” he peers up, a mischievous grin on his face that only leaves you with one answer.

“i’d like that.” you bring your hands up to his cheeks, cupping them gently before placing a peck on his lips. “i’d like that a lot.”

#nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct angst #nct dream angst #jaemin #jaemin fluff #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct dream imagines #nct dream drabbles

[tenabrye]

Cam we get some how they are when they have a crush for Reboot! Vash and Nicholas?

Vash

It's the kind of sweet that's tooth-rotting when he has a crush on someone. Yes, he's still nice and all, but he goes the EXTRA MILE and does it just for them. If they're traveling with him and he notices that they've been eyeing something in the town they're currently staying at for a day or two, and he has enough double dollars, he's getting them that item. If they ask him about it, he chalks it up as it being a coincidence, even though it really wasn't. Is also the type to get things that make him think about them, blatantly saying so, too. The smile on their face brightens his day and he'd do anything to continue seeing it.

As much as he is sweet for them, his protectiveness skyrockets. He doesn't show it in front of them, but he's actually very, very scared of what could or will happen to them since trouble does seem to follow him, especially with that trouble being his merciless twin. The thought of what could happen if Knives were to hurt them, or do worse, keeps him up a lot at night. He'll lose sleep over those thoughts, but at the same time, he really doesn't dwell on them for too long with his crush around. Their smile or their laughter is enough to break him out of his bad thinking. As much of a pacifist as he is, if it really, and I do mean REALLY, came down to it, especially after the words of Wolfwood playing in his mind, he would do anything to keep his crush safe.

Them being sad is literally impossible with him around. Vash will make it his mission to brighten up their day the best he can. They want to talk about the problem? He's one hell of a listener. May not have the advice they might be seeking, but he will absolutely do his best. They want to cry as a way of dealing with it? His arms are wide open and his clothes ready to be stained with their tears. Keeps his cybernetic arm wrapped around them while using his free hand to rub gentle, soothing circles on their back. They want to take everything out on shooting something? He'll collect as many empty cans and bottles as he can and let them use his weapon, or if they prefer their own, to shoot at them. Whatever they need to feel better, they really just have to ask and he will make it happen, if he can.

Gets giddy when their hand brushes up against his own as they're walking beside one another, or if they happen to fall asleep against him, using his non-cybernetic arm to lean against. Definitely watches them while they sleep, but not in a creepy way. No, he admires them, oh so lovingly. Carefully brushes their hair back from obstructing their face. He will also give them his portion of food a lot of the time, insisting they take it because he's full. He's not, but he wants them to get enough to eat for the day. Whenever they camp out on the sand, if they can't make it to a town, he always puts their sleeping mats/bags close to one another. He passes it off as a safety precaution, which it is, but he really just wants to be closer to them.

He didn't think it was possible for him to like someone as much as he did with them, nor can he tell if they've picked up on his little crush. Until they make it obvious that they know he likes them in such a way, things will continue on like this, or until something happens that he just blurts it out. Like a situation in which he could have lost them forever. He holds them close as he whispers his feelings into their ear, voice shaking from the fear of the scene that went down prior. He'd be fine if they didn't feel the same way. A little sad, but he doesn't mind simply being friends. If they don't and accept his feelings for them? Absolutely ecstatic and will hug onto them, lifting them up while also twirling around. He's just a happy man.

Wolfwood

He's actually very subtle when crushing on someone, or at least tries very hard to be. It's actually very noticeable to others, and maybe even his crush, due to how he acts around and with them versus everyone else. People can see the way his eyes soften when he looks at them, the way his voice is softer when speaking to them, and that little smile on his lips. Even his crush would start to notice, unless they're oblivious, then they definitely wouldn't have a single clue.

He's VERY protective of them. Unlike Vash, he'd actually put a bullet in someone if they so much as make his crush even the SLIGHTEST bit uncomfortable. Okay, well, he actually wouldn't at first, but if the person kept it up even after being told to knock it off? You better believe Wolfwood is doing something about it. He's also the type to hold his crush's hand and say it's so that he doesn't lose them in the town they're currently in, but he really just wanted to hold their hand. If they don't mind it, he'll even wrap an arm around their waist to keep them close to him, but only if they give him consent or make it obvious beforehand that doing so is okay. May the heavens have mercy on whoever decides to lay a single hand on his crush, because he sure as hell won't have any.

Same as Vash, he will actually give them the remaining portion of his meal if he knows they're not full. He just says he's a light eater and isn't that hungry, even though it may be the opposite. He loves touching his crush, and not in a creepy way. He can't really pinpoint the exact reason why, but it gives him some relief when he's holding their hand, them having fallen asleep with their body leaning against his, or even waking up somehow wrapped up in each other's arms when they camped out instead of staying in town. He especially loves when that happens, because he's usually the first one to wake up at their little camp, so he gets a bit of time to admire their sleeping face before having to pull away when they wake.

Wolfwood is great with children and he will apply that with his crush if they're having a bad day. Offers them a lollipop of their choice and will sit and listen to their problems. He's actually really great at giving advice because not only has he seen a thing or two, but he's been through so much, which he doesn't want his crush knowing about, yet. He applies what he knows and has been through in order to give them the advice that would best help to solve, or make, their problems better. He's also open for a hug, if they really want it. Seeing his crush in any sort of pain absolutely pains him, so yeah, he's doing what he can to make them feel better. If need be, he'll tell them a story from his childhood to make them feel better. A fabricated story, obviously, but he has his reasons of why he has to. Feels better after seeing that little made-up story cheered them up a bit.

Unlike Vash, he would actually be devastated if his crush didn't feel the same way he did. At least for a little while. He's an adult, so he obviously won't be sulking like a teenager. Will abide by the friends only thing, but sometimes it slips his mind because he will still find himself doing romantic-ish stuff. However, he's got the biggest grin on his face if they do feel the same way. Will want to celebrate with a kiss, which he's practically dreamed about for far too long while traveling with you.

#trigun stampede #trigun #vash the stampede #trigun stampede vash #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun stampede wolfwood #vash x reader #wolfwood x reader #vash x you #wolfwood x you

[lovingonryles]

winter wonderland

wanted to pump out a little gift for y'all before christmas 🫡 also i DESPERATELY needed to write for my girl gwen ugh love her 🫶🏻 (i’m legally married to her in case you’re wondering)

pairing: gwen stacy x fem!reader

summary: headcanons for being gwen's girlfriend during winter <3

warnings: established relationship, cursing, implied girly/femme reader, reader is shorter than gwen, tooth-rotting fluff

word count: 687, should take about five and a half minutes to read

listen to: winter wonderland by beabadoobe

i don’t imagine gwen being a cold weather girl

she would much rather prefer walking in the park with you over trudging through piles upon piles of snow

she definitely has soft hands (calloused from her drumsticks, but soft), so she hates winter because her hands get all dry and cracked

her cuticles also get really bad, girl’s hands look like this:

but no need to worry, because her pretty girlfriend’s to the rescue!!

every day you SLATHER this girl’s hands in lotion and pluck her cuticles

you also paint her nails in her current favorite color and she does yours <3

even with hating winter, she has so many poofy jackets

they surprisingly look so good on her

whenever you see her in one, you always HAVE to go and give her a big bear hug because what else are you supposed to do?? she looks like a fucking marshmallow!!

when you say you’re cold, she always insists on giving you her jacket. of course you protest every time, but it never works

she of course wants her girl to be warm, but she always wants to see how dumb you look in the jacket (girl’s 5’8 and has muscles [you can’t convince me otherwise], of course you’re gonna look like an idiot in it)

she’ll take a picture and post it on her story and you’ll be like “ gwen noooo :((” and she’s all “oh, I’m sorry. can’t help that you’re smaller than me” 😭🫶🏻

sometimes you convince her to go out in the snow with you

it takes a while, but once she’s out there, she won’t go back inside

she is absolutely a BEAST at snowball fights

you’ll be hiding behind a tree holding your snowball, and she’ll come out of nowhere and hit you right in the face

you have to yell at her to stop at some point because it’s just snowball after snowball and you’re starting to get cold

you guys also make snowmen, i don’t make the rules

hers always look kind of demented tho

shit’s looking like this:

“gwen, what the fuck is that 😭”

“that’s harold. what do you have against him?”

“he looks like he got thrown in a blender…”

“your face looks like it got thrown in a blender.”

“you’re so rude!! ☹️ you know what, at least mine looks better.”

christmas is the absolute best with her

you guys would have a tradition of giving each other the most ass gifts ever, like cat socks or shrek earrings

one year she legit gives you coal

the next you get her an empty pringles can, you get the process

sometimes she actually turns up and gets you something good that reminded her of you

one year she literally gave you this amazing dress

satin in your favorite color that came down to your knees with lace on the edges

“where’d you get the money for this?!”

“i have my ways.”

“i swear to god, if you spent all your money on this…” (she did)

needless to say, it’s your new favorite dress

she also loves baking with you, even though she‘s ass at it

you’re trying to make snowflake cookies and they end up looking like a fucking whale

also the dough’s super inconsistent because she poured almost the whole bag of flour in 😭

poor girl cannot follow instructions for the life of her (I don’t believe in consistency LMAOLMAO)

the cookies are so bad you almost gag trying to eat them but at least you spent quality time with your girlfriend!!

if there’s one thing she does know how to make tho, it’s hot chocolate

she has a killer recipe, but she refuses to give it to you

says it’s a family recipe that can absolutely NOT be shared

after a day of her kicking your ass with the snowballs, her hot chocolate’s the best thing to perk you up

your cold hands will graze each other’s as she hands you your mug <3

you’ll cuddle while the snow falls outside, her arm gently around your waist, tons of blankets over you two

#spotify #gwen stacy #gwen stacy x y/n #gwen stacy x you #spider-verse #spider-man: into the spider-verse #itsv #spider-man: across the spider-verse #atsv #reader insert #fluff #tooth-rotting fluff

[hbyrde36]

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)

CH 1 CH 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7

Chapter 8: Master of Puppets

WC: 5053 | AO3 link

Eddie woke to the sound of a phone ringing in the distance and his head throbbing. 

He rolled over, cracking one sore and puffy eye open to find himself surrounded. The two boys were already up—Max and Erica too. A graveyard of empty cereal bowls lined the coffee table in front of them, while Saturday morning cartoons played quietly on the TV. 

Despite how miserable he felt, something about seeing these kids just… being kids, filled him with a surge of renewed affection for the little shits, and reminded him of all the countless reasons he had to not fuck this up again.

He drug himself up off the couch, grunting with the effort like a 90 year old man with aching bones and deteriorated joints, and made his way to the kitchen—called by the siren-smell of good strong coffee. Steve appeared in the doorway as he approached, watching the scene just as Eddie had with a fond look in his eyes. He held two mugs, handing one off with a lopsided grin. 

Eddie looked down at the drink, finding it pale with too much cream for most people’s preference, but exactly how he liked it, and could almost smell the tooth-rotting sweetness of the excessive amount of sugar. It was perfect. How did Steve know?

“I love seeing them like this.” Steve said quietly, taking a sip from his own cup. Eddie didn’t need to look to know his was black. Blasphemy. “They don’t get to do it enough.”

Eddie offered a sad smile, humming his agreement. He looked back over his shoulder at the kids, and could only imagine how three years of fighting interdimensional monsters had cut pretty severely into each of their childhoods. Steve’s too, really. They often got caught up in worrying about the younger teens but Steve would have been what, 16 or 17 when this started? 

Babies, all of them. 

He turned back to say as much, but Steve tipped his head towards the kitchen, beckoning Eddie to follow. 

“That was Joyce on the phone.” Steve began, standing close—too close for so early in the morning when Eddie’s defenses were down, speaking low to make sure no one else overheard, the rumbling tone of his voice threatening to set Eddie’s skin on fire. 

“Owens’ people are sending a car to pick them all up, today.”

“What about Hopper?” Eddie whispered.

Steve sighed. “Well, she had to tell the Doc a little about our situation to explain why she was contacting him.”

“How’d that go?”

“She said he was weirdly accepting of the whole time loop thing, almost like he wasn’t surprised? Which, I guess they do research all kinds of weird shit in those labs, and he’s worked with kids like El for years, so maybe it just wasn’t all that unexpected. He knew some things about Vecna—Henry, whatever. Once they got talking she decided to tell him about the ransom note too, figuring he might have the resources to get Hop out, and they certainly owe us at least this much. He said they would handle it.” 

He shrugged, clearly trying to appear unconcerned, but suddenly wouldn’t meet Eddie’s eyes. Eddie knew him too well by now to be fooled. Something was bothering him about all this, even if he was trying to pretend like he was fine. 

“It’s okay if you’re worried. I know you don’t exactly trust these people.” Eddie said.

Steve tried to turn away, but like muscle memory Eddie reached out to lay a hand on his upper arm, giving him a knowing look.

“It’s stupid.” Steve said.

Eddie tightened his grip around Steve’s bicep, squeezing reassuringly as he rubbed his thumb back and forth. “I’m sure it’s not.”

“First I was worried about her going out there, and now—I know she’s right, they probably have ways to get to him that are much safer than her and Murray just fucking off to Alaska to meet with god-knows-who, and I’m happy that it’ll keep her out of the line of fire…” 

“But?” Eddie prompted.

“But, if anyone can bring someone back from the presumed dead, it’s Joyce Byers. I don’t know how much you remember from back when Will went missing, but she never gave up. Not when they found a body in the quarry, or when the whole town treated her like she was crazy for believing her son was still alive. Against all odds she fought for him, went into the Upside Down and brought him home. I just… Hopper deserves that. Someone who cares enough to bring him home no matter what.”

This time Eddie couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around Steve. At least now the other boy knew they’d been close before—friends. Friends could hug. 

As he had so many times before, he wished he could tell Steve that everything would be okay—but he just didn’t know, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie and offer false words of comfort. 

To his surprise Steve hugged him back, tentative at first, but he quickly melted into Eddie’s embrace as though he were starved for touch. It felt wonderful and devastating all at the same time to touch Steve like this—and to have Steve’s arms around him again too. It was a painful reminder of all that he’d lost, but still he refused to be the one to let go first. 

“Thank you.” Steve said, pulling back and roughly clearing his throat.

All at once Eddie realized how quiet it was. Steve’s headphones sat down around his neck, which wasn’t weird in itself, it was something Eddie had seen Max and Chrissy do whenever their ears needed a break too, but they never let the music stop. Steve's song wasn’t playing at all, and Eddie couldn’t handle watching him be taken like that again. 

He reached up, lifting the earpieces back over Steve's head, fingers itching to caress his cheek as they brushed by. He clenched his fist instead. 

“Your tape stopped.” Eddie said, breathless, his heart hammering inside his chest. 

Steve’s wide eyes never left his face as he nodded absently. There was a sudden tension in the air stretched perilously tight between them and Eddie had to force himself to take a step back before it snapped. 

Shaking himself, Steve finally looked down, popping the tape out of his walkman to flip it and begin again, the volume set as low as it could be, and still be heard. 

Eddie took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together. “So, what’s on the agenda today?” He asked, managing to sound almost normal. 

“The kids should probably go home or something, spend time with their families and stuff before things get worse. We’re still going to need to stock up on weapons, right? Even if El gets her powers back?” Steve asked.       

“Yeah.” 

“Feel like doing some shopping today?”

Eddie shouldn’t have been surprised. It made sense for all the same reasons that it had in the last loop. The War Zone was closed on Sundays, and there hadn’t been a single murder yet in town to raise the alarms with the public or the Hawkins PD. Still, he felt a shiver make its way up his spine at the idea of the past repeating itself. Thinking not only of the store, but what happened after. 

He did his best to push those thoughts way, way down.

“Sure. I’ll let you break the news to your children.”

“Our children.” Steve corrected, grinning.

Fuck.

Eddie gulped, backing his way out of the room, stammering, “I-I’ll go tell Robin and Chrissy t-to get ready.”

-

Predictably, the kids fought back, having no interest in being separated now. As before, they all decided to go to Mike’s together, and it wasn’t until Steve picked up the phone to call and let Nancy know the plan that Eddie realized she and Mike hadn’t come back this morning the way they did last time. Funny how some things changed while others stayed the same, without obvious rhyme or reason. 

The trip to The War Zone went smoothly and pretty much as Eddie recalled. He’d racked his brain on the drive there, wondering if there was anything they could have used more or less of. Fire seemed to be the most effective weapon against the creatures of the Upside Down, so the molotov cocktails were still a good choice. 

If only they could source an actual flamethrower. 

Ultimately he didn't think any different number or type of weapons would be what turned the tides. This thing would come down to a battle of wills, he’d bet his life on it. 

Nancy got quiet as they were unloading the supplies after returning from the store, and Eddie could almost hear the gears turning over in her mind. It was no surprise to him when she eventually spoke up. 

“I want to go look for Fred.” She began, holding up a hand before anyone could argue. “And I know what you’re going to say. If we couldn’t find him last time what’s the point—but you said his body turned up in the trees behind his house right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied. “Sometime overnight or early in the morning they found him.”

“Okay so, that’s a clue we didn’t have before, and a place I’m sure I wouldn’t have looked.”

“How about this—the three of us,” Robin jumped in, indicating Nancy, Chrissy, and herself, “can go for a fun-filled hike in the woods, and we’ll leave you two here to hold down the fort in case Joyce or Eleven calls.” 

She met Eddie’s gaze, winking at him like she was doing him a favor. He grit his teeth and scowled. How she’d caught on already that there was anything going on between him and Steve, he had no idea.

…Not that there was anything going on since he was doing everything in his power to stay far far away from that possibility right now.

Steve didn't seem to notice their little exchange, thankfully, and was only watching the three girls with obvious concern. “If that's what you want to do. Just… be safe, okay?”

“Always.” Robin said, giving Steve a pat on the shoulder before getting back into the car with Nancy and Chrissy. 

The anxiety Eddie had already been soaking in all day reached a critical level as he and Steve were left home alone together, and more than once he found himself obsessively staring at the spot on the kitchen floor where he’d first held Steve, as he fell apart after Vecna had so ruthlessly attacked him on this same afternoon in another life.   

He had to find some way to distract himself or he was going to lose it.

There was only one surefire way to settle at least some of his nerves, but Eddie was too afraid to go outside and smoke—afraid to let Steve out of his sight for even a second actually, and so when he wandered away from him—for the dozenth time—to the living room, Eddie had no choice but to follow. As he did he recalled the bag of tapes he knew was stashed in the entertainment center—bingo.

He moved to the cabinet and pulled it out, digging for the only decent film among the bunch, not caring that he’d just watched The Goonies a week ago. Ironically, he thought the familiarity of it might even offer him some comfort. He glanced back over his shoulder to ask Steve if he minded, only to find him with his headphones off and silent, again. 

“Dude, how many times—” Eddie stomped across the room, his concerned frustration at Steve's carelessness spilling over to rage. 

How hard was it to keep a fucking tape going? 

He reached for the walkman clipped to the other boy’s waistband and yanked it off him—huffing as he popped the tape out, flipped it over, and shoved it back in, jamming his finger into the play button so hard he almost broke the damn thing, before shoving it back into Steve’s hands. 

“It needs to be playing to work, asshole, and you really need to start keeping those on your ears more.” He flicked the hanging cord of the headphones as he leveled Steve with a hard glare. 

“It’s–they–they’re uncomfortable.” Steve mumbled in half-hearted defense of himself.

It occurred to Eddie suddenly that this had never been a problem for Steve before. He’d never forgotten to keep his tape running, and never once had he complained about having to wear the headphones. 

He narrowed his eyes. “Really, Harrington? Because I’m finding it hard to believe that you can’t deal with a little mild discomfort to keep that fucking monster at bay after all the other shit you’ve endured.”

“Okay, fine. Just… listen, If Vecna doesn’t attack me before we go after him, how can we be sure I’ll be on his radar—that he’ll take me as bait?”

“Wait, were you–were you leaving the music off on purpose so he could get to you? What the fuck, Steve?!” Eddie shouted.

“What was your plan then, huh? To make Chrissy play the lure? How is that fair?!” Steve yelled right back. 

Eddie honestly hadn’t thought it through that far yet, and maybe Steve had a point. He certainly didn’t relish the idea of poor Chrissy being put on the chopping block again, but this certainly wasn’t the answer.

“It’s not fair to you either!” Eddie growled. “It’s not fair, period!”

“I can handle it!” Steve bellowed, smacking himself in the center of his chest. “And if it’s gotta be someone—why not me, huh? At least I have experience with this stuff! At least El knows me a little! If this whole thing winds up hinging on her piggybacking in someone's brain again, isn’t it better—easier if it’s someone she knows?!”

Again Eddie was brought up short. He shook his head—he couldn’t argue with the bulk of Steve’s logic, but–

“You don’t know what you're signing yourself up for! You have no idea what he’s capable of! Steve, don’t do this to–”

“Why does it matter so much to you if he takes me anyway?!”

Eddie recoiled, feeling the force of Steve’s words like a slap in the face.  “What? What do you mean why? Steve, you’re my—” He snapped his mouth shut, fighting to retain control of himself even as he spiraled further into panic. 

“We’re friends. I care about you.”

Right in front of his eyes, Steve’s face hardened into a cruel mask. 

“Friends,” Steve mocked with a bark of laughter, mouth twisting into an unfriendly smile. “We’re not friends, not really—you do realize that right? If you hadn’t gotten yourself caught up in all this, I would have never said two words to you. Why would I?”

All the blood drained from Eddie’s face. It felt like he’d been kicked off the edge of a cliff. 

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t thought of himself. A nagging fear in the back of his mind, that any feelings Steve was developing for him were circumstantial at best, nothing that would stand up to any sort of test—that it wasn’t real. That Steve had only clung to him because he was there—convenient and willing. 

He’d thought, after the kiss– 

Well, he’d started to hope he was wrong. Almost believed it when Robin gave him so much shit for doubting Steve when they’d spoken in the woods. But here it was in front of him. Proof that he’d been right to worry. 

“Honestly,” Steve went on, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I’ve only been pretending to be nice to you so you’ll help us. Why else would I ever want to be associated with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?”

“Wh–what are you saying?”

Eddie’s eyes grew wet, hot tears threatening to fall. Oh god, what an idiot he’d been. 

“Poor thing,” Steve cooed at him, all pouting lips and false sympathy. “You should know, when you told me you were gay?” He paused, shuddering. “I was completely repulsed. I had to pretend otherwise of course, so you’d cooperate, but it made me sick having to lay next to you night after night.”

“Wait, I didn’t…” Eddie breathed, a barely audible whisper. “But, that didn’t happen this time.”

Something was very, very wrong here. 

He started to slowly back up, eyes darting between the doorway to the kitchen and the hall leading to the front door, trying to calculate his best move.  

“You’re not Steve.”

“Not quite.” The thing that wasn’t Steve smirked, folding his hands together locked behind his back. “Hello, Eddie. We meet at last.”

He was still wearing Steve’s face, but the voice coming out of his throat was becoming something deeper, darker, and far more dangerous.

Any relief Eddie felt for the fact that it hadn’t really been Steve saying those awful things to him was overshadowed by the terror of meeting his enemy in person for the first time, and in his own domain no less.

“Fuck you.” Eddie spat, projecting a bravery he absolutely did not feel. 

Steve—Vecna began to pace a slow circle around him. “I don’t know how you’ve managed this trick, sending yourself back in time over and over again, but it’s no matter. I’ve seen what’s in your head now. I know what you and Eleven and all your little friends have planned. It won’t work.”

A guitar riff Eddie would never forget, even if he lived a thousand lifetimes, began to fill the air around him. Someone, somewhere was playing Master of Puppets for him—trying to pull him out of this place. Trying to save him. Hope blossomed in his chest as he thought about what Chrissy had described seeing the first time he’d successfully pulled her out of her trance, and searched around frantically for any signs of an opening or portal. 

Either unable to hear the music or uncaring that Eddie was in the process of being rescued, Vecna kept taunting him. 

“Of course, you already know that, having failed so many times before. I wonder why it is you even continue to try and fight the inevitable. This is your fate, Eddie, and his.” The monster gestured to himself, to the suit of familiar skin he wore, drawing Eddie’s attention back. 

The eyes—Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes that Vecna had stolen to use against him rolled back and began to bleed. With a loud crack his jaw dislocated, hanging loose, mouth gaping open in a silent scream. Another snap and his arm bent back the wrong way, broken.

Eddie choked back a sob, his heart shattering into even smaller pieces as he witnessed first hand what he already knew Steve had gone through, knowing he'd never be able to scrub the image from his mind. 

“The sooner you accept that, the sooner your suffering will come to an end.” The words spilled forth from the gaping maw that Steve’s mouth had become.

Eddie cried out, screaming his pain wordlessly.

The music picked up suddenly, getting louder as the song reached its middle, giving Eddie the strength to look away—and finally he spotted it, a faint glow like the promise of sunshine coming in through an open window, emanating from somewhere behind Vecna, through the doorway to the kitchen. 

He took a few stumbling steps back, the disfigured visage of Vecna-Steve following his every move, and faked a run for the front door, pivoting at the last second to switch direction down the hallway, entering the kitchen from its other side and dove into the hazy mirage head first without hesitation. 

-

Eddie came-to with a shuddering gasp. He was on the floor, headphones shoved over his head and Metallica blasting in his ears. Strong arms circled him from behind, rocking him gently as a soft voice mumbled the same three words over and over again. 

“Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.”

“Stevie?” Eddie wheezed, out of breath and a little disoriented from his sudden fall back to reality. Which was saying something, considering he’d died and come back as many times as he had. He reached up, hesitantly pulling the headphones down around his neck. 

“Oh my god.” Steve let out a rush of breath, sounding relieved as he slid himself around to Eddie’s side, still cradling him in his arms. He looked Eddie up and down, as if assessing him for physical damage, a haunted look in his eyes.

“You’re okay?” Steve said. Part statement, part question.  

When he didn't answer right away Steve pursed his lips, concern evident on his face as he raised a hand up to gently brush the tears from Eddie’s wet cheeks. He hadn’t even known he was crying.

Eddie blinked up at him, caught between wanting to bury himself in the other boy’s chest, and the instinct to shove him away. He had Vecna’s vicious words stuck in his head now, replaying over and over again.

He knew it wasn’t real. Steve hadn’t said those things, would never have said those things. They weren’t his thoughts or feelings even if they were said with his voice. Eddie knew all of that, but still it was enough to taint what little comfort he might have allowed himself to take from Steve’s embrace.

That bastard had stolen Steve's face and used Eddie’s own insecurities against him, and it’d worked like a fucking charm. 

He sat up slowly, pushing Steve away with a firm hand on his chest. Steve frowned, actually tried to push back for a moment, to keep holding Eddie, before realizing what he was doing and backed off to give him space.  

“Is that… that was Vecna, right?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah, it was him.” Eddie pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough to see stars. If only it would erase the image of Steve’s broken form from his mind.   

“I’m so sorry.”

Eddie dropped his hands from his face abruptly to stare at the other boy. “What do you have to be sorry for?” He asked, incredulous.

“You tried to tell me how bad it was and I–I argued with you. That was the most terrifying few minutes of my life, and I was going to force you to watch that—again! How many times did you have to watch it happen to Chrissy? To me? I’m such an asshole” Steve closed his eyes, sniffling as he shook his head. “I’d still rather it be me than you, or Chrissy, or any of the kids, but it was… selfish of me to put you in the position to have to save me again on purpose. So, I’m sorry” 

“It’s not—you’re not selfish, and you’re not an asshole either.” Eddie sighed heavily. “And I hate to admit it, but you may have had a point. We can’t bait Vecna with something he doesn’t want, someone he isn’t actively after. I guess now that someone’s gonna be me.”

“How will that work? You’re just as much of a stranger to El as Chrissy is.”

Eddie tightened his jaw, readying himself for another fight, but Steve quickly raised his hands in surrender. “I'm not–I'm not trying to—I'm just raising a concern.”

“I’m not letting anyone else go through that if we don’t have to, ok? We’ll ask El about it when we can, and go from there.”

Steve nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”

-

Steve searched through his closet and dug up his old walkman for Eddie to use since he’d given his own up for Chrissy. There was nothing wrong with it, just an outdated model. A new pair of batteries and he was all set.

They made Eddie’s tape in relative silence, save for the music itself which they kept turned low to save his head—a side effect of the Vecna attack being a massive fucking headache.

The girls returned a few hours later, looking completely dejected and exhausted. They still hadn’t been able to find Fred.

Nancy didn’t stay long, wanting to get back to her own house to keep an eye on the kids, and it wasn’t until she left that the other two noticed the change in Eddie, and what he now wore over his head. 

Chrissy came up to him first, throwing her arms around his shoulders and resting her cheek on his chest. “Oh no, Eddie, you too?”

He hugged her back, and as bad as the day had been, he couldn’t help smiling to himself a little. He’d been so sure that he had ruined any chance of friendship with her this time around, but the easy affection gave him hope that it wasn’t a lost cause just yet. 

“I’m okay, Chris.” He assured her as they separated. “Harrington had my back.”

-

In a bid for normalcy, and while they had nothing better to do, Steve ordered some takeout for all of them to share while Eddie put his movie on—hours later than intended, but better late than never. 

He tried to enjoy it—the food, the conversation, hanging out with these people he’d come to care for like family—but his heart was in the past. Instead of the TV screen in front of him he saw Steve fighting off a grin as he’d watched Eddie flutter around the kitchen cooking for them. In place of the drink in his hand, he felt the warm press of Steve’s palm in his, remembering the way he’d laced their fingers together and held on all the way upstairs that night. 

Giggles coming from the other side of the room were what brought Eddie back to the present, and he glanced over to see that Chrissy and Robin had drifted awfully close to one another on the couch they shared, even resting their heads together as he watched.  

Not thinking he nudged Steve's shoulder with his own to point it out, wondering when they themselves had gotten this close, and tilted his head in the girls direction. 

Steve glanced over, smiling at first but then his body went visibly tense, eyes guarded as he looked back at Eddie.

Oh.

“You don’t have to worry I–” Eddie only barely managed to stop himself from coming out, though he wasn’t sure why, and changed course mid sentence. “I'm cool with—Robin. I just think it’s sweet that they’re getting close again.”

Steve took him at his word, relaxing immediately. “Again?” He whispered back excitedly.

Eddie nodded and went back to watching the girls, glad that this particular thing was a staple of the loops. 

Once the credits rolled and the girls made their way up to bed, Eddie helped Steve clean up, picking up trash and carrying their few dishes to the sink. He fled as soon as they were done, saying a quick goodnight before rushing to the downstairs bathroom to change and laying himself down on the couch, the big one this time. Dustin had been right, it was a lot more comfortable. 

He assumed he’d gotten away with it, that Steve had already gone up the stairs, but less than a minute later Steve came striding into the room carrying two blankets. He tossed one to Eddie before wrapping the other around himself, and settled down on the other couch. 

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“Steve.”

They both sat up, staring daggers at each other from across the room.

Steve broke the standoff first. “I don’t think you should be alone. What if something happens, or your tape runs out? Since you seem to have something against sleeping in a bed with me again, I figured I'd just join you down here. It’s fine.”

“Fuck’s sake.” Eddie grumbled. 

So much for keeping this one boundary, but he’d manage somehow. He suspected Steve still felt like he must have done something wrong before, and Eddie couldn’t live with him feeling guilty over something that wasn’t his fault. And, he supposed, there was no use in both of them sleeping on couches when there was a perfectly good bed upstairs.

Eddie reluctantly got up, flinging a throw pillow at Steve’s smug face as he did. “Come on then, big boy. Lead the way.”

-

In the familiar comfort of Steve's room, Eddie laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling, hugging his side of the bed to keep as much space as possible between them. He was exhausted from the attack, from the day in general, but his heart pounded as he found himself surrounded by all things Steve. His scent on the sheets, his pillow under Eddie’s head, his clothes strewn about the room.

He breathed it all in deep, and, still keeping his eyes pointed forward, finally dared to ask the question.

“How did you know what song to play for me?”

Steve shifted around, turning on his side to face him. 

“It was the tape from your Walkman. The kids took it out last night after they made Chrissy’s and left it sitting out on the table. It was a lucky guess, really. I just hoped that whatever you had been listening to last would work.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He’d survived by simple chance and dumb luck, and sure he was old hat at dying by now, but it didn't make the idea any less scary. He turned too, meeting Steve's eyes through the dark. 

“Thank you, that was… good thinking.”

“I was so afraid it wouldn’t work. One second we were screaming at each other and then you went so still. Your eyes rolled back and–” Steve’s voice cracked, unable to finish.

“I know.” Eddie whispered. And he did know, far too well, what it was like to feel so powerless.

He started to reach out, wanting so badly to cup Steve’s cheek or pull him close, but let his hand drop to the bed between them mid-motion. Steve slid his own hand closer, inch by inch until their pinkies touched, and then oh-so-slowly, he tucked his whole hand under Eddie's, entwining their fingers and gripping him tight. 

“I don’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t worked.”

Eddie swallowed a whine, praying Steve couldn't hear it, and squeezed back. He didn’t have the strength to pull away, though he knew with every touch came the potential to break him beyond repair. 

Chapter 9

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated and if you want to be tagged, just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

Taglist: @hitlikehammers @pearynice @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch @lawrencebshoggoth @stillfullofshit @lil-gremlin-things @mamafaithful @klausinamarink @starlight-archer

#steddie fanfic #time loop #pov eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham

[chouxsardine]

Ticked (all my boxes) — Jake Kiszka x reader

Summary: It's December 24th, but you've still got so much to do. --A look into y/n's Christmas Eve with Jake in the form of a to-do list

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 5655

Warnings: not much, mentions of alcohol, nearly 6k of PURE FLUFF

Genre: holiday fic, tooth-rotting fluff

Tips: Some may prefer an uninterrupted reading experience, but I have linked some visual cues to the specific items mentioned in the fic so you can better visualize them. You can click when you see an underlined word. Please suit yourself :)

Author's note: This is my GVF Secret Santa gift for @nina-23-45 (if you are Nina, please click here for A Letter from Santa; Sorry for the wait!!). This is the longest fic I've written. As challenging as it is, I honestly had so much fun writing it, it has certainly helped me find the joy of writing again, and I wish to share it with all of you. I hope you are staying cozy, happy, and healthy. Happy holidays. This is a long one, so grab your hot cocoa, make yourself comfy, snuggle with your pets, put on some of your favourite holiday tunes, and...enjoy!!

🎧: everyone has their own favourite Christmas songs, so take your pick! But I do recommend listen to Cause We've ended as Lovers by Jeff Beck when you have time

7:00 AM You crack open an eye. The red digital numbers on the bedside clock becomes clearer in your vision. You try to move and feel Jake’s arm wrapped protectively around your midsection. You turn your head slightly, and there is your lover: his hair covering half of his face, breathing long and even, soundly asleep like some royal prince from a medieval oil painting, although you know he’d probably prefer to look like a pirate with a pipe hanging out of his mouth, if he had the choice. The thought of that brings a smile to your face. You manage to escape from Jake’s hug without waking him up, moving one frame at a time like a character in a slowed-down stop motion film. Jake lets out a grunt as you finally climb out of bed. You hold your breath nervously, but he doesn’t stir, just rubs his cheek further into the pillow. You place a feathery kiss on his temple and tiptoe downstairs.

You were never a morning person, but tomorrow is Christmas and you know it is going to be a long day of preparation. You put the kettle on, taking out two mugs from the cupboard, and find yourself staring eye to eye with Blackbeard. That’s the mug you got for Jake when you started living together. He has been using it ever since. He even drinks whiskey out of it. (“No one drinks whiskey out of a mug, Jake.” “I’m the Captain, I make ship happens if I want to!” refutes Jake in his Oliver Reed voice)

The whistling kettle pulls back your attention. You pour the boiling water over the tea bags. The living room is dimly lit. A certain kind of dimness mixed with a humidity that is unique to winter days. You peak through the blinds, the snow has stopped; everything is covered in white.

You stand in front of the open fridge as a pair of arms snake around your waist, following by Jake’s chin resting on your shoulder.

“Morning, beautiful.”

“Hmm, it’s still very early. Did I wake you up?” You reach your hand back to ruffle up his hair.

“Nope, the bed is just cold without you.”

“What do you want for breakfast, anything that caught your eye?” Holding the fridge door open without taking further action is your guilty pleasure; you feel like an old Duchess inspecting her prized jewelry collection.

“Dunno. Omelet?” You’re not even sure if Jake’s eyes are open from how sleepy his voice sounds.

“Sure, but only if you are making it. I can never get them to the right texture and it pisses me off!” You scold dramatically as you retrieve the eggs.

“Uh-uh, can’t have a pissed-off y/n for Christmas,” Jake takes over the carton, “but I do know she makes some killer sausage patties.”

Lord, this man knows how to hype you up, even when it’s the simplest task of throwing some pre-cooked frozen meat into the oven.

Fifteen minutes later, the two of you are sitting at the table. You sink your fork into a piece of omelet. Upon tasting it, your eyes light up immediately. The outside maintains its shape with lightly crispy edges while the inside melts away in a creamy concoction.

“Jake, this tastes like liquid sun!” You compliment in awe.

Jake snorts out a chuckle at your analogy, trying to wave it off, despite the fact that he is obviously flustered. As the good girlfriend that you are, of course you won’t let go of the chance to tease him. So you wave you fork like a baton and hum your improvised tune: “Jakey boy did it again, oh he done did it again!”

This time Jake is full-on laughing. “Come on, y/n. It’s just an omelet.”

“How dare you?” You gasp, pretending to be offended. “This is not JUST an omelet, this omelet has…” you lower your voice and flutter your fingers around the food, “rock star magic in it!”

What a nice way to start off the day, you think as you chew on another forkful of egg, certainly worth sacrificing some sleep.

✅ A nice morning with a full belly.

10:00 AM You push and the wooden door opens with a jingle and a creak. You hurry inside and are wrapped in a warm embrace of the musty smell of paper and expired mothballs. The ruddy-cheeked old man behind the counter looks up from the tome in front of him and greets you warmly: “Good morning, dear.”

“Morning, Mr. Friesen.” You hold your freezing fingers near the wood stove that stands in the centre of the room. “It’s so cold out there today.”

“On the brighter side, we get a white Christmas, ain’t so lucky last year.”

Friesen’s is your favourite second-hand book store around town. You have been a regular since freshman year in college, and you have lost count of how much money you saved by relying on the old textbooks you found here. Naturally, you have acquainted yourself with its friendly and mysterious owner. Mr. Friesen is quite the myth and legend himself. From his conversation with customers that you’ve accidentally eavesdropped over the years, you pieced together that he used to be the frontman of a rock band in the 70s before one of his bandmates sadly passed away in an accident. He opened the bookshop as an extension of his basement collection thirty years ago.

“I have the books here for you. They are still in decent condition, a rare find these days. Whoever’s getting them must be lucky.”

One good thing about the Friesen’s is that if there’s something specific you’re looking for, you can always request it. There’s no guarantee, but Mr. Friesen will try his best; and this man never disappoints. A few weeks ago, you asked him to keep an eye out for any American classics: Hemingway, Fitzgerald and the like, planning to give them to Josh as his Christmas present. You were losing hope until you received a last-minute call from the bookshop, telling you that a rare first edition of John Steinbeck’s Cannery Row is ready for you to pickup.

“I honestly can’t thank you enough. You’re such a gem,” you smile. “And I have a little Christmas present for you as well.” You pull out a wrapped vinyl from your tote bag.

“Oh you don’t have to do that, my dear,” Mr. Friesen peels back the wrapping paper. “Oh! Phil Sector’s Christmas Album, I don’t have this one yet. What a nice addition to my collection. Thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Friesen. It’s the least I can do. You’ve always been so kind to me.”

The old man hums before looking up at you somewhat smugly. “Now, excuse me for being nosy, but how’s it going with that rock star boyfriends of yours?”

Despite being together for so long and being open about your relationship, you still blush when people mention Jake as your boyfriend in public. You have brought Jake to the bookstore before, while things between you were still platonic. If Mr. Friesen sensed anything then, he never let it show.

Taking in your expression, Mr. Friesen beams meaningfully, “Well, I think he’s a lucky guy. You can always tell from a person’s appearance when they’re with the right one, and I can see it in you. I’ll say he’s a keeper, that kid.”

“That’s such a nice thing for you to say,” you reply shyly.

“Well, I shouldn’t be keeping you any longer. It seems like someone is already waiting,” Mrs. Friesen motions outside the window. You follow his gaze and see Jake standing across the street.

“Merry Christmas, Mr. Friesen. Thank you again.”

“Anytime, kiddo. Merry Christmas.”

Outside the bookshop, Jake is kicking a chunk of ice between his feet while he waits for you.

“Do You have everything you need?” You ask.

“Yes. Do you?” he holds out his elbow and you happily hook your arm through it.

“Yup.” You show him the book wrapped in brown paper.

“Huh,” He huffs in a playfully offended voice, “someone’s got the good stuff this year.”

You slight elbow him in the ribs. “Hoy, you green-eyed monster, that’s because Josh’s on the good list this year.”

“Oh, is that so? How did I make it onto the naughty list then?”

“The possibilities are endless!” You exaggerate, holding out your hands to count, “first, for being the sexy little swine that you are…”

You and Jake could probably go on like this forever if weren’t for the fact that you’re arriving at your destination. To finish some last minute Christmas shopping is the only reason that you are outside on such a cold day. You and Jake have decided to “divide and conquer”, with you going to the bookshop to pick up Josh’s gift and Jake going to the liquor store to for some nice Prosecco for the family gathering tomorrow. Then, you will go to the mall together to pick up the present for your cousin.

Rewind to about an hour ago:

As much as your cousin is a sweetheart, it is a real pain to buy Christmas presents for her. And as the procrastinator that you are, of course, you put it off until the last minute to make decisions. Last but not the least, you comfort yourself. Now the time has come for you to have a taste of your own medicine. You were unconsciously tugging your hair as you stared at the coffee table, furrowing your eyebrows deep in concentration.

“Why do you look worried?” Jake plopped down onto the couch next to you.

“I still haven’t got a present for my cousin.” You rubbed your temple and groaned. “I feel like she’s got everything. Everyone always says, ‘oh it’s not about the gift’, but I couldn’t go to her empty handed! I mean, it’s Christmas, people are expecting gifts anyways.”

“Actually, if you don’t mind, I think I have an idea.” Jake reached for his phone and you perked up.

“I saw this the other day, do you think it will suit her?” Jake showed you a picture of what happens to be a magnetic key holder. “Ronnie has mentioned it before, and I saw it at the mall the other day. Didn’t you tell me that your cousin just got her own place earlier this month? It could be a nice housewarming slash Christmas gift.”

“No, you didn’t! ” You almost jolted up from the sofa. “Aww, thank you, Jake! you don’t have to do that!”

“That’s okay, love, anything that takes worries away from my girl.” He beams back at you. “Now we just need to go to the store to pick it up.”

You have always known Jake for being the most caring and attentive lover. But this is on a whole another level. The fact that he even keeps the most mundane trifles you blurt out in mind shows how much he cares. You have already been deeply incorporated into his life, his every decisions now will always include the factor of “you”. The thought makes your heart melt.

Therefore, here you are now, standing in front of the mall entrance.

Although Jake has made your task a thousand times easier, you still hated going into the mall. The crowd, the music, all the right ingredients for sensory overload.

“Last-minute Christmas shopping, yeah?”

“Okay, deep breath,” Jake holds both of your hands in his, eyes shining with encouragement. “I know the exact shelf it’s on. We’ll go in and out, quick as a bunny, a Christmas Bunny, alright?”

“Yeah, okay, we can do this.” You nod.

“One, two, three….go!”

And like Mario Karts you two set off.

You are sure there are people passing by watching you two adults giggling and pushing through the revolving doors like you are lunatics, but you don’t give a hoot. You love embracing your inner child from time to time, and you just happen to be so lucky to have the right person who makes you feel at ease doing so.

✅ Drop off vinyl and pick up the book for Josh at Friesen’s Christmas present for (your cousin’s name)

2:15 PM The film is still playing in the background, you must’ve fallen asleep. See, you just know that waking up too early isn’t for you.

You feel exhausted after your gift-hunting excursion, so you decide to watch a film together while snacking on some chips. Your Christmas movie list is like no other—none of the fluffy rom coms like The Holidays or Love Actually, also no household classics like Home Alone or Miracle on 34th Street. To be fair, you have nothing against them, you just prefer something that brings more of an adrenaline rush. Therefore, your picks consist mainly of psychological thrillers and horror movies. You remember feeling apprehensive when you first told Jake about it, thinking it would be weird for a girl to choose The Shining over Titanic. But Jake is completely unbothered. Instead, he loves that about you. “Love my girl quirky,” is how he had put it. “And I get to hold you if you’re scared.” (You always protest that you’re not, but sometimes you do, and you have to admit it does feel nice to have someone’s shirt to bury your face into just in case some scenes get too intense for your liking). Actually, you think now you’ve successfully gotten Jake into it as well. He especially likes to plague you with his theories after you have finished the movie, turned off the lights, and snuggled under the duvets. (“But do you think he really killed her? I mean, what if—-” “Jake, enough!”)

But now, art kind of imitates life. The house feels weirdly empty and quiet. Jake is no where in sight.

“Jake?” Not in the bathroom. Not in his studio in the basement. Not in the garage either.

Just as you are staring to wonder if this is some kind of prank, you look outside the window and saw a familiar figure in the backyard. Jake was standing near the fence, fumbling with something. His back is turned against you, so you couldn’t figure out what he is doing.

It starts snowing again. The crisp air outdoor whips all the sleepiness clear from your head. You wrap your arm around yourself and walk towards Jake. He must be really focused on whatever he is doing because he didn’t hear you approaching at all. Now you are standing close enough to see clearly.

He uses a gift card to scoop up some snow, flattens it with his palm, and then adheres the now thin slice of snow to a stick. There are already layers attached to it; the shape of it somewhat resembles a flower.

“Jake, what are you doing up here?”

Jake spins around. For a moment, he wears the expression of a child being caught red-handed stealing cookies from the countertop. And then you see what he is holding in his hand.

It is a half-finished rose, but made of snow.

“Shh, it’s almost done. Just give me a moment.” Jake has that serious look on his face, the same one on stage when he was looking down at his guitar through hooded eyes, a slight crease at the inner corner of his eyebrows; his lips pressed, showing his Marionette lines. His long eyelashes give the false impression that he has his eyes closed.

The snows has accumulated over night and reached a rather firm texture, which is idea for shaping. But it is also naturally brittle. Even if you are not the one making it, you can tell that it requires one to find the sweet spot between melting the snow and wetting it just enough so that it sticks. You see Jake’s hand red with cold and your heart wrenches at the sight. He doesn’t seem to care at all. You want stop him right there, but something about his demeanour tells you that he really wants to show you the result.

It seems that Jake got the gist of it pretty quickly. He repeats the process a few more times and there it is, a rose made of snow. The layered petals hug around the bud, its edges crystal and flimsy like cicadas’ wings. He picks it up by the stem carefully and extends it to you.

“Here, a rose for my dearest.”

You are too stunned to speak, struck by the beauty frozen in time. You don’t know where he gets the idea from, but it is such an endearing gesture, him leaving the warm bedside of his soundly asleep lover, standing in the cold, molding snow with his bare hands, just so that he could surprise her.

“I…I love this so much. Thank you, Jake.”

When you look up at Jake, your eyes are stinging with tears. The tip of Jake’s nose is frozen red, as well as his cheeks. He was looking at you with a toothy grin. As cliché as it may sound, Jake truly came into your life like a knight in an armour made of starlight. Being in a relationship with him has taught you so much more about growth, trust, and loyalty. He adores and cherishes you with all his heart. He will always make an effort for you, will always firmly choose you and stand by you to support you. Shy he maybe, when he loves, he never holds back. A single rose has always meant the words, “I love you”; it holds all his love.

“Don’t cry, my dear, your tears are gonna freeze too. I wanted you to be happy.” Jake coos, wiping away your tears. The coldness of his thumb reminds you of you shouldn’t be wasting more time on stupid tears and Jake should get his hands warmed up.

“Wait here!” You yell over your shoulder as you run inside the house. Don’t even bother taking off your wet boots; you grab a Tupperware and a piece of styrofoam laying around from the gift wrappings and rush back out.

“This is going to live in my fridge forever.”

Jake laughs as he helps you stab the snapped stem onto the styrofoam to secure the rose in the container. “It is truly amazing how romance always resides in the ephemeral and transient things. It is lucky that we still have eyes that can see and a heart that is still beating to appreciate them.”

“Yes, but not everyone is lucky to have this kind of beauty and happiness captured for them, though.” You put his hands into the pocket of your coat as you walk back inside, “Oh, Jakey boy, what have I done to deserve you?”

✅ A snow rose. This one is uncalled for, but hey, what’s a to-do list if there wasn’t some surprise interruption, especially when it’s an incredibly precious one like this.

7:45 PM You have been checking on your snow rose every time you open the fridge (which is very often), like checking on the pet goldfish you’ve got in kindergarten.

“Baby, you know it’s not gonna grow legs and run away, right?” Jake leans against the kitchen counter. “With that much snow out there, I could just make you another—-”

“Don’t you dare risk those money makers for things like this again!” You give him a pointed look. You have been babying Jake’s hands since the moment you got back inside: running them under lukewarm water, submerging them in a basin of warm water with essential oil, rubbing and massaging his fingers to accelerate blood circulation, you even made him apply some coconut-scented hand cream (“My hands smell like piña colada”). Jake has to assure you thrice or even more times that he feels just fine, but still, you give him that suspicious “mom” look. (“Y/n, I promise you my hands are fine. They are strong guitar fingers, they can hold against a little chills. Plus, I’ve broken my arm before and——-” “Shhhhh! Knock on wood, Jake!”)

“Anyways, I think the cookie dough should be done chilling. Do you mind taking them out after you’ve done inspecting your rose, my love?”

You are baking some cookies for the family gathering tomorrow. You have found a recipe for Aquarium Cookies, which upgrades the traditional stained glass cookies by pressing two of them together and creating some space in between for sprinkles. You are also going to bake some regular sugar cookies using the instrument-shaped cookie cutters you bought, one symbol for each boy.

Baking is your favourite Christmas activities. It warms up the house—both temperature and atmosphere-wise, and makes it smell like a bakery. And nothing beats decorating cookies.

Think about it, a gingerbread house is too limited, and let’s be honest, half of it mostly ended up in the stomachs of some raccoons. Decorating a whole cake is too daunting, but cookies, cookies are perfect! Perfect size, perfect usage, no waste, everyone’s happy.

“They are basically edible canvases,” you tell Jake as he hands you a rolled-out dough.

“Y/n, have I told you how I love the way you brain works? ‘Liquid sun’, 'edible canvases’. Listen to yourself, you are basically a lyricist.”

How does Jake just constantly whips out compliments out of thin air and make your heart flutters like colourful flags in the wind? You smile bashfully. However, the next second, that smile turns into a pout as you remove the cookie cutter and find out that the guitar cookie has a broken neck again.

“Jake, I broke it again,” you whine.

“Here, let me try.” Jake takes over your failed attempts, crumbles it into a ball and flattens it with the rolling pin.

You hold your breathe as Jake gently lifts up the mold. The cookie lies pliantly in his hands. No break. It is kind of magical how Jake can basically “tame” all the guitars in the world if he wants to, even if they’re composed of flour, butter, and sugar.

“How do you do that?” you marvel. “Really, how come you are so good at cooking?” Jake made pasta for dinner using his secret sauce recipe. You helped yourself to two servings.

“Hmm, because I’m a good poet.” Jake says as he produces another perfectly drum-shaped cookie.

“Enlighten me, please.”

“‘A good poet differs nothing at all from a master-cook. Either’s art is the wisdom of the mind’.”

Jake couldn’t help but chuckle at your star-struck fangirl face, “Not my words, it’s from Ben Johnson’s ‘Neptune's Triumph for the Return of Albion’.”

Of course, of course, he would just quote some 17th-century play like it’s some item off the grocery list. You shouldn’t be expecting anything less from a man who recites poetry while launching a paper plane.

✅ Bake and decorate Christmas cookies (philosophically, with a side of literature)

9:43 PM You decided to go to bed early so that you would have enough energy for the official Christmas Day tomorrow. You are going to Karen and Kelly’s house around noon for the family gathering and dinner. But there remains one very important thing to do before you sleep, and you have been waiting in excitement the whole day like a pupil on their way for a field trip.

You and Jake will do your personal gift-opening on Christmas Eve. It is a special and intimate moment just between the two of you when you elope as lovers to your own love nest. It is a time that you deliberately reserve for yourselves away from all the hectic holiday bustle. It has been a tradition of yours, something you probably will keep on doing even after you have kids in the future (that is, if you decide to have them), just to remind yourselves of the special bond you share. And nothing and no one will change it, not the possibilities of additional family members nor the passage of time.

A string version of Last Christmas is playing in the background. Some may consider it a worn-out tune, but it holds a special place in your heart. It brings you back to your sweet elementary school years, where you and your friends would secretly meet together after school and rehearse the song for the school’s annual Christmas party. You guys were so serious about it, coming up with the choreography and everything. And you also remember your mom showing Jake the pictures of your performance when he met your parents for the first time. You feel embarrassed, but Jake finds you adorable in your silly little Santa hat and fluffy costume. Since then, he has made a mental note to always have some version of this song playing in the house around the holiday seasons.

You are wearing one of Jake’s sweaters. It’s a green acrylic sweater from his younger years. He once let you borrow it on a particularly rainy camping trip, and it was the first piece of clothing that you’ve “adopted” from his closet after you got together. The sleeves are a bit long for you, always covering half of your palms when you put your arms down, but you love it; it feels like holding Jake’s hands.

You treat this activity with an almost ritualistic seriousness, making sure you are in your most comfortable state, both mentally and physically.

“Come sit, angel,” Jake pats the space on the carpet next to the fireplace where he is sitting.

You happily oblige. You will play a round of rock, paper, scissors to decide who goes first. This time Jake loses, so he will start first.

He reaches under the Christmas tree and pulls out a small box with forest green wrapping paper. You almost feel bad for ripping the paper just because how beautiful the colour is. You open the lid to reveal a little witch figurine. She is about twenty centimetres tall and made out of wool. She wears a dress with a mixed shade of orange, warm brown hair hanging down to her waist, and a tawny pointy hat with a milky ribbon proudly sitting on top. She holds an Oslo grey broom in her hand, her arms opening as if she is caught in the middle of welcoming someone. The metal spring attachment in the bottom showing her function as a tree topper.

“She is so beautiful!” Your thumb brushes her dress, the wool so smooth and soft.

“It is only right to have her look after the house for my little quirky girl,” Jake says. “Do you want to put it up and see how it looks?”

You nod excitedly and step onto the stool beside the tree. Just like magic, she blends into the whole look perfectly, adding a rustic charm and a warm glow to the evergreen. It is as if she’s belonged there all along.

“I love her already. Thank you so much, baby.” You bend down to kiss Jake on the lips. He knows you so well, he knows that your fantasy since you were a little girl has been living in the woods as a witch, and he remembers how excited you were when the music video of Meeting the Master came out.

“Now, my next gift may need you to help me out a bit,” you say as you walk towards the bookshelf. Jake stands within reaching distance, watching you in curiosity as you move the metal vase stand out of the way and then reach into the gap between the bookshelf and the wall with your right arm. He helps you drag out a long rectangular box.

“Wow, sneaky move here, y/n.” Jake teases. “But that’s a good hiding spot though, I wouldn’t have thought.”

“That’s the point,” you smirk. You are quite proud of yourself, honestly. Jake has been at the studio a lot this month, and you did not let those hours go to waste. Jake wanders around the house when he can’t sleep at night, and you have contemplated a lot of hiding spots.

“This is big stuff,” Jake tears away the wrapping. You got Jake a Whiskey Barrel guitar holder. As the name suggests, it holds three guitars and is made out of staves from renowned bourbon distilleries. The wood is sanded and matt coated, with the black marks of the barrel rings showing its origin. Each piece is unique.

“Merry Christmas! I thought it’d be a nice addition to your studio downstairs.” You lace your fingers together nervously.

“I say it’s a perfect upgrade! The Gibsons are definitely going up on the walls, baby!” Jake presents a winsome smile. “Thank you so much, y/n.”

If your excitement are already bubbling, now it has been dialed up even higher. You and Jake have one last gift for each other and both of you love to save the best for last.

“I didn’t wrap this next one, because I have been literally still adding to it as of today. Now close your eyes.” You move to sit across from Jake.

Jake feels something like a book being laid in his lap. He opens his eyes and sees what appears to be a leather sketchbook. You nod and motion him to flip through it.

They are sketches. Sketches of him. The first page is a sketch of Jake sitting on the lawn and holding his guitar He recognizes that’s one of your first dates at the park. There’s Jake in his sword and rose costume on stage. You have always told him that is one of your favourite costumes of his. There’s Jake in his aprons, stirring something over the stove. There’s Jake soundly asleep, you must’ve sketched that one while he was taking a nap….the last page, freshly dated, concludes with the sketch of a single rose, resembling the one he made for you earlier this afternoon. You have used your pencil as an old-fashion camera and encapsulated all the lovely moments between you on paper.

“I’m not the best with my sketching, but you know, I’m improving. Also, it is not fair for you to be so pretty that it is difficult to draw.” You cheeks now are rosy pink.

“No, sweetheart, these are perfect,” Jake reaches to cup your face, “you know I have always adored your drawings.” He can also see you through the pages; you sitting by the table, stealing glances at him, nibbling on the back of the pencil. The weight of the sketchbook is way more than just paper and lead; it is also his lover’s heart.

“So, to wrap up the night.” Jake gets up and lifts the needle off the playing record. The room becomes quiet, brewing with anticipation. He pulls out his lap top and turns it to face you. On the desktop, there’s a folder labeled with your name; a single audio file lies in it. Jake turns the volume to the fullest and clicks on the file.

Within five seconds, you have recognized it is Jeff Beck’s Cause We’ve Ended as Lovers. Or, should you say, Jake’s version of Jeff Beck’s Cause We’ve Ended as Lovers. The song is without a doubt your all-time favourite guitar solo. The whole Blow by Blow album is amazing, but you have taken a special liking to this song. Yes, it is sad, but it is bittersweet in a poignant and amicable way. It is an elegiac of old lovers but also an affirmation and proof of a beautiful memory, representing the a part of life that is forever altered just because you have crossed path with someone. For the whole five minutes and forty-two seconds, it is as if you are transported to another dimension. Now, this song has become even more significant to you. The fact that Jake covers and records it for you feels makes it particularly personal and intimate. You try to picture him standing in the studio, in a similar position as the figure on the album cover.

A single tear escapes the corner of your eye and Jake is quick to catch it with his thumb. You hold his hand close to your face, kissing his fingers gently.

“I’m in my feels again,” you say after taking a deep breathe, “continue to make me cry and I will need to go check on my emotional support rose again.”

Jake chuckles. “Aww, I am glad you like it, love. Merry Christmas.”

“Thank you so much. I love you, Jake.”

“I love you too, doll.” He scoots over closer. “Now, can I get another kiss from my girl?”

Surely he can, but you just want to tease him a bit more.

“Oops, I’m afraid you can’t, sir. I see no mistletoe around here.” You grin mischievously.

Jake was prepared for your impishness. He grabs his phone and quickly searches up a photo of mistletoe. Holding it above your heads, he raises his eyebrows, a silent “how about now?”

You roll your eyes. “Come here already, you dork.”

✅ Give Jake his gifts. (The guitar holder is hiding behind the bookshelf)

10:21 PM Having exhausted almost every single item on your to-do list, it is finally time to relax. You lie in each other’s arm like a pretzel. You are dozing off to the steady rhythm of Jake’s heartbeat. You must have ended up on the nice list this year. You are so grateful for all you have, for being loved and cared for in every way.

✅ Snuggle with Jake. Tell him how much you love him.

Mentally, you tick off the last box of your Christmas Eve to-do list before falling into a dream filled with marshmallows and hot chocolate, starlight and lover.

Here, you made it!! Thank you so much for reading.

Just in case you want to check out more of my works:

Mariner's Complex || Permission to Fall || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones ||

I'm just starting off with writing fics for gvf, please leave a comment or send me an ask/message if you would like me to put up a tag list :)

#jake kiskza x reader #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf secret santa #gvf fluff #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka