#(this is not the one i was writing last week. or the one before that)

[spxllcxstxr]

While You Were Sleeping • J&V

(Gif not mine)

Request: recently discovering your arcane works has seriously made my week, your writing is amazing! if you're still taking reqs, can I pls request a jayvik x they/them reader fic? while viktor and jayce are sleeping soundly at night for once, reader surprises them by coming home unexpectedly. they're also a scientist but travels a lot for work, which leads them to be deeply missed by the two. reader gently nuzzles and kisses them until they realize that they're back! just a very sleepy and loving reunion with these three. I need some healing after the jayvik finale in S2 ;_; thank youu :) — anon

Summary: Coming back late at night from your trip, you didn’t expect to find Jayce and Viktor asleep in your shared bed

Warnings: gn!reader, implied scientist reader, it's just fluff guys lol, no dialogue until the last like third lmao

Word Count: 1.5k

A.N: title is a laufey song 🥴, I hope you enjoy!!!

•

You sigh, heaving your heavy travel bags behind you as you climb up the stairs in front of you. Muttering to yourself, you curse at the amount of things you packed for your trip outside of Piltover. You hadn't gone too far for your research this time, and yet past you decided to pack your entire wardrobe and then some.

The keys to the apartment you shared with your lovers dangle precariously from your pants pocket. At first you thought about heading straight to the lab, considering that was where you would no doubt find Jayce and Viktor, but after days of travel, all you wanted was to be home. The two of them would eventually get home anyway, whether it be just passed midnight or just after dawn, so you determined that there was no harm in settling back in your apartment first.

The lights are off when you enter your apartment, the tick-tocking of the old grandfather clock the only sound echoing in the room as the pendulum swings back and forth. Papers filled with equations and scientific illustrations are strewn across every surface. You huff, rolling your eyes. Your apartment looked exactly as you left it weeks ago. Eyes finally adjusting to the familiar darkness, you also spot a few empty coffee mugs scattered all over and jackets draped across every chair. This was certainly home.

With your bags still in your hands, you continue through your decently sized apartment. You had this place memorized at this point, so walking through it in the dark was simple. You knew exactly where the couch Jayce picked out before even moving in was and where Viktor's oddly shaped bookcase was. The comforting familiarity of your home makes warmth spread through your chest; this was something you, Jayce, and Viktor created together from scratch--it meant more to you than any other place in Runeterra, even the ones vital to your research.

You head straight to your bedroom, the desire to fall into your own bed and drift off to sleep overwhelming at this point.

The room is dark when you enter except for the few white rays of moonlight filtering in through the window. Viktor's cane rests against the nightstand on his side of the bed, metal gleaming in the light.

You furrow your brows in confusion, Viktor being home shocking to you. The lab was practically a second home to Jayce and Viktor. Before dating them, they would spend almost every hour of every day there, tinkering with their inventions. Since starting the relationship, Jayce and Viktor tried really hard to break their habit of spending so much time in their lab, which they were largely successful at. With you away for weeks, however, you knew that they tended to take advantage of it and revert back into their previous mindset.

With the cat away, the mice will play, after all, as they say.

Still at the threshold with you bags at your sides, your eyes land on your two lovers laying in bed.

Viktor is curled up beside Jayce, who softly snores against your partner's hairline. You stop at the end of the bed, the tension in your shoulders easing up at the scene before you. Though two blankets cover them, the tips of Viktor's long fingers peek out from the top, showing that his hand is splayed lightly against Jayce's chest, right over his heart.

In the pale moonlight, your lovers look ethereal. The light drapes them in a silvery hue, the luminosity a stark contrast from the rest of the dark room. Jayce and Viktor, with their skin bathed in radiance, are oblivious to your tender gaze.

Smiling softly you feel your heart melt in your chest. This was what you especially missed on your travels. The beds you always wound up in were empty and cold. No amount of blankets piled atop your figure could mimic the warmth Jayce radiated, nor could any pillow replace the comfort of his chest against your cheek. Viktor wasn’t there to hold your hand in his sleep either. There were no golden or amber eyes brightened by the early sunlight gazing at you when you woke up either. You had grown accustomed to the comforting presence of your lovers over the years that you always forget how lonesome travelling could be.

It was a privilege to be able to travel across Runeterra for your research, you knew that; but the absence of your lovers late at night always made you dreadfully homesick.

Quietly, you move around the room in order to change into something better suited for bed. As you change, bags still abandoned near the door, waiting to be unpacked, your partners continue to sleep.

Changed into more comfortable clothes, you ease into bed, slipping underneath the blankets. Viktor continues to mumble incoherently while Jayce shifts, his snoring easing up like he senses your presence. You drape an arm across his chest, fingertips brushing against Viktor's. With your body pressed close to Jayce's, you place kisses along his jawline, the smell of his aftershave lingering on his skin.

Again, he shifts against you, head turning slowly to face you.

"Wha's goin' on?" Jayce sleepily mumbles, eyes slowly opening. The moonlight must be harsh on his bleary eyes because it takes a moment or two for him to fully grasp his surroundings.

His gaze locks onto your own, eyes widening as a grin slowly appears across his face. That small but noticeable gap between his two front teeth has you mirroring his smile tenfold. His brown hair is messy from moving around in his sleep, loose strands dangle in front of his face as he raises his head from the pillow.

"You're home early!" You can tell that he's just barely containing his excitement--he's hardly whispering and already shifting under Viktor's grasp in order to get closer to you.

Before you’re able to respond, Jayce’s lips are on yours, kissing you like his life depends on it. An arm wraps around your midsection, hand resting against the small of your back, and pushes you impossibly closer to himself. You can feel his heart beat beneath his white shirt.

“Gods, I missed you…” He says after pulling away. His eyes shine as he scans over your face as if he’s forgotten what you looked like in only a few weeks.

“I missed you too, Jay…” A hand rises to gently stroke his cheek, something he leans into.

A disgruntled noise erupts from behind your partner and you both turn to check up on Viktor.

Disrupted from his sleep, Viktor playfully glares at the two of you. To anyone else it would appear as though Viktor was absolutely livid with the rude awakening, but you and Jayce knew him better than anyone else; he was happy you were home safe, happy that he could feel complete once again.

"You two truly are incapable of whispering, hm?" His voice is deeper, accent thick with each syllable.

Viktor just looks tired, his pale skin is accompanied by dark bruises under each eye. It certainly looks as if he's spent every hour at the lab recently.

"Hello to you too, Vik. I missed you very much." You tease, leaning over Jayce to capture Viktor's lips.

"I missed you very much, sweetling..." He huffs, moving closer to Jayce in order to meet your lips half way.

Jayce settles on the bed between you, back pressed against the mattress and opens both of his arms for you and Viktor to cuddle into.

"You'll have to tell us all about your adventures---" Jayce starts, fingertips dancing lazily against your back.

"It wasn't like it was a vacation, Jay, I still had work to do." You cuddle closer to Jayce, the warmth radiating from his body making you yawn tiredly. Viktor, though dressed in a comfortable long sleeved shirt with two blankets on top of him, does the same, hoping to take all his partner's body heat for himself.

"Sure, but you were not stuck in the Academy's dungeon staring at the hex gem for hours upon hours upon hours..." Viktor sleepily trails off, his face already buried in the crook of Jayce's neck.

You pull the blankets up to your neck and place a hand on top of Viktor's, which rests on Jayce's chest. His fingertips are cold as ice, as they usually were. You feel your eyelids start to droop, each blink getting longer.

"Why don't we go to sleep, darling? You can tell us all about it in the morning. Maybe me and Vik could spend the day outside of the lab and get some fresh air." Jayce whispers, sensing your exhaustion.

You hum as he kisses the top of your head. He murmurs something along the lines of "goodnight" and "I love you," but it all becomes a blur as you drift off to sleep; finally in your own bed in your own home surrounded by your partners.

•

[norikuna]

LAST FRIDAY NIGHT — choso kamo

welcome to the christmas tour ! take a seat in section (d) and let the show begin !

prologue. → it's been seven days since you wobbled into your apartment and almost threw up on your best friend. seven days since you confessed your love to him. seven days of radio silence as you've done your best to shut him out, hoping that the earth swallows you whole. there's no way he's going to want anything to do with you now!

but it's been years since choso had started silently loving you.

want to try sitting somewhere else ? take a look at the ticket chart again !

pairing. choso kamo x afab!reader

warnings. vírgin!choso, spítting, kíssing, makíng out, thígh kínk (mild), yuuji being a menace 😭

word count. 8k! song inspiration. last friday night — katy perry

a/n. i can't believe i don't write for choso more. i really put a lot of love into this fic but i wish i had expanded on it a bit more 😭 one thing abt me is that i love adding side characters to cóck block

mp3. think we kissed, but i forgot!

"did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? breakups happen every day — you don't have to lose it."

you jab at the skip button like it's personally offended you, cutting off the mournful strains of the evermore bonus track mid-verse. normally, you'd let the singer's poetic misery hold your fragile heart in a pretty gentle chokehold, for she understood your heartbreak like a nobel laureate in emotional devastation. but not today.

not on this particularly dreary friday, right before christmas, where even ms. swift's dulcet agony felt obnoxiously on the nose.

pinned under the suffocating weight of your quilt, you let out a dramatic sigh that could rival a victorian heroine wasting away from heartache and humiliation.

with the theatrics of someone clawing their way out of a shipwreck, you work one arm free, waving it weakly into the air like your tragic signal of defeat.

the cocoon of your quilts and covers isn't warm nor comforting. it's a smothering trap, a quilted tomb of your own making.

"this is it," you mumble to the empty air of the apartment, your voice muffled by layers of fabric, "this is how i go."

the universe, for its part, remains unbothered by your suffering.

with a theatrical groan that would earn you a standing ovation in a one-person tragedy, you yank the quilt over your head. plunging yourself into darkness once more.

but unfortunately, the muffled strains of your 'sad girl winter' playlist refusing to take the hint seep through, like overly persistent ghosts of your bad decisions in the past. it seemed that evermore was feeling less like a balm for your soul, and more like the soundtrack to your public humiliation.

somewhere in the tangled chaos of your bed, half pillows and half-sulking regret, your poor and neglected nintendo switch lies face down like it gave up on your hours ago. its screen has long since gone dark, but if you listen hard enough, you can almost hear your animal crossing villagers whispering conspiratorially, drafting a formal petition to evict you.

no doubt tom nook is already sharpening his capitalist claws, repossessing your house with an unsettling amount of glee.

but the rest of your room is not much better. the string lights on your walls flicker half-heartedly, casting an uneven glow over the wreckage of the past week.

it's not the charming nor dramatic kind of mess that makes for an artsy photo dump. no, this is the slow and unflattering unravelling of someone who let life beat them up with zero resistance. if rooms could file restraining orders, yours would have done it by now.

teetering laundry piles of discarded sweatshirts are haphazardly stacked in the corner. nearby, an empty hot cocoa mug sits, sticky with the remnants of whipped cream. candy cane wrappers are strewn across the room, the aftermath of a peppermint explosion that made your jaw ache.

but the true centrepiece of this disaster? your phone, face down on your nightstand. neglected and on silent. the one object in this room that's probably begging for attention, and one that you've been skilfully ignoring. and yet, right on cue, it buzzes again.

lighting up with a contact number that you've been ignoring all week.

choso.

and you squint at the notification, at the glowing screen that makes your eyes sting in the dim light.

sweet, dependable and utterly loyal choso.

your best friend of over a decade. the one person that you can't bring yourself to face.

the one person that also deserves so much better than this radio silence, and yet the last person that you can humanly confront. especially not after what happened last friday night.

and here, good friends, lies the crux of your problem.

that doomed night, seven days ago, has mostly dissolved into a series of blurry and fragmented snapshots. like a bad, half-finished film that you'd walked out of halfway through.

but the lead up? oh, you remember that part with the kind of clarity that should have been reserved for more important moments.

you could still feel the heat of storming out of that overpriced restaurant, half-drunk and fully pissed off, tears streaming down your cheeks and thickening your throat.

your ex-boyfriend? well, he had been your current boyfriend, before he decided to break up with you. in public. for all that classy, emotional damage that was so in character for him.

and with a line so perfectly cliché, it practically begged to be immortalised on a 'worst breakup excuses' list in cosmopolitan: i'm sorry, baby. i just don't see it working anymore. we're just too different. oh! and i found someone else.

oh, sure. but you should have been glad to have been rid of the man-child that thought frankenstein was the monster's name, the man who commented 'oxford study' on innocent tiktoks, and called pinterest 'girl instagram.'

god, what a fuckin' loser.

fuelled by a mix of public-induced heartache and questionable tequila choices, you had practically charged across street crossing. your feet hitting the pavement with the reckless kind of abandon reserved for teenagers sneaking out after curfew.

and there choso had been in your apartment. your best friend had been sitting cross-legged on your rug, surrounded by wrapping paper and ribbons. probably wrapping yuuji's christmas gifts with military precision. he had been balancing a roll of tape in his mouth, scissors over his lap dangerously close to the family jewels. but you had barrelled through the door like a feral cat in a downpour.

his eyes had widened, a little startled, as you made your entrance. the tape had fallen out of his mouth, chestnut hair falling over his face as he gaped. you couldn't blame choso, of course. you had looked entirely like a bedraggled, disheveled mess in a storm. cheeks streaked with mascara trails, but then everything went...fuzzy?

what did you remember? crying. lots of it.

and boy, was it a show. the kind of weeping where your face contorts into a puffed-up, berry-red disaster, and you would feel the headache creeping in even before the tears had finished.

choso's arms had caught you before you could face plant into the couch. solid, broad. warm and familiar.

you had caught the scent of clove and pepper, alongside faint citrus that you had been associating with him over the years. you had been saying something, raw and desperate.

your words had spilled out of you like water from a broken faucet.

and here you were now, reaping the glorious consequences of your own unfiltered word vomit.

seven days of stewing in your own shame and regret. but seven days were not enough to undo this level of self-sabotage. you briefly considered the options: faking amnesia, dropping out of university entirely, or best case scenario — moving to antarctica and herding emperor penguins.

you groan, sinking deeper into the abyss of your covers. and then, of course, your phone buzzed again. the dull and persistent vibration drilled into your skull like a tiny, digital drill.

cho 💜

(01:09am) hey, are you doing okay? (08:42am) tell me if you need anything! (04:23pm) hello? did i do something?

you peek at the screen, trying to avoid making eye contact with the tiny and terrifying letters. your sheet mask scrunches uncomfortably, making you look like a particularly pathetic mummy. choso's sweet and utterly patient messages were a sharp control to your gross sulk, and his concern makes you want to curl into a ball and crawl into a snowbank.

outside, christmas snow fell gently, blanketing the world in a soft and untouched white. it was like something out of a dream, a world of calm and peace. peace that your trifling ass didn't deserve.

if choso wanted to speak to you, he'd have to drag you out of your self-imposed misery himself. and even if he were to arrive at your apartment door, he'd only find a note tacked to the wall. with a map leading to the south pole.

so, what exactly had happened last friday night?

the memory rolls out like an old film reel, all jagged and distorted. the kind that you can't skip, even if you wanted to. it comes in fragments, each one more excruciatingly clear than the last. the haze of vodka-infused whipped cream shots over hot drinks slowly melting away like a bad handover.

the door to your apartment? you remember that part with embarrassing clarity. you had kicked it open with awful, ragged flair. your heel slipping on the floor, and you had nearly stacked it. face-first into your own doorway, standing there with the grace of a giraffe on roller skates.

the second the door had slammed shut behind you, a gust of frigid winter shot through the apartment like a chill reminder of your situation.

choso had been sitting cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table, in the midst of complete, barbaric chaos. the roll of mauve wrapping paper teetered precariously on his dark jeans, and scissors dangled from his lap while a stripe of tape was wedged between his teeth. in between the mess of clippings and discarded tape, he seemed more like an absurdly morose-looking christmas elf that had been tasked with being santa's helper after an entire bottle of mulled wine.

but as you had walked in, or rather stumbled in, his gaze had shot up. his chestnut hair falling in messy curtains around his face, with one unruly strand intertwined with a red-white rogue ribbon. choso's face had twisted in alarm, his usual solemn manner replaced by someone who looked like they were trying to figure out whether they needed to brace themselves for good or bad news.

"hey," he had said, voice soft but sharp, like he was trying to handle fragile glass. choso had spat the tape out of his mouth unceremoniously, and he had been tugging the ribbon free rom his hair, concern all over his fine features, "what's wrong? are you okay?"

and you? a disaster. drunk, crying, furious. the recipe for an emotional molotov cocktail.

"i hate him," you had snarled, yanking off your beige coat, hurling it in the general direction of the couch. instead, your aim missed entirely. flopping halfway onto the floor, and halfway across choso's knee.

choso simply plucked the coat off his leg with two fingers, gingerly draping it over the arm of the couch. your best friend was frowning as he set down his oversized scissors, rising to his feet in a fluid motion. amber-hazel eyes flicked to yours, wide with alarm as he stepped closer, "are you hurt? is this about —?" he was hesitating, "your boyfriend?"

"no, my ex-boyfriend!" the words were ripped out of you, and your voice pathetically cracked halfway through as tears spilled down your flushed cheeks, "and 'm not hurt, cho. unless you count emotional damage," punctuating your statement with a tragic, breathy hiccup.

choso's perpetual frown deepened, as thick and unruly brows knit together, "okay," he said, voice low and steady, "do you want to sit down? i can get you some water, wait." his steps are slow, purposeful as he closes the distance between you gently, with measured care. or like he was defusing a bomb.

but you were having none of his gentle care, "no, i don't want water! i want — i want to un-date him," you wail, arms flailing as you start pacing like a caffeinated hamster, "god, i'm so stupid for dating him in the first place. and yes, i know, stop looking at me like that. i know you want to say i told you so, but he's such a —," you pause mid-rant, clawing the air for the right word, "a troll. a goblin, an ogre."

choso blinks, "maybe you should just get some fresh water in you," but there's an underlying layer of grimacing amusement painted over his quiet features, "and i didn't even say i told you so."

"no," you blurt, your head snapping so fast that your neck immediately files a complaint in the form of a sharp crick, "i don't want water. i want —"

and then, your brain short-circuited. because that's when you'd actually looked at him. like really looked.

warm hazel eyes framed by dark, sleepless circles that seemed to follow choso around like cursed ghosts. soft, feathery strands of mahogany hair that refused to stay tied back, and tumbled rebelliously into his face. that damn sweatshirt, loose and charcoal gray, and perfectly slouched over his broad shoulders. the sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal forearms so solid that they could make a renaissance sculptor pack and quit.

and like a freight train at full speed, like whee-woo, the realisation hit you. choso kamo.

your best friend in the entire world. your steady and reliable, and kind to a fault best friend. better than any stupid ex that you'd ever had.

and because tequila is the nectar of chaos, and heartbreak has no filter, your mouth decided to unleash the words that you would haunt you for the next week.

"i should have been dating you."

the room is silent, as choso freezes entirely. like someone had smacked the pause button on him, and his hand, mid-reach for a glass of water, stops cold. his eyes are wide, mouth parting as though he hadn't yet processed what you had said.

"what?" choso finally manages, the words soft and stunned, like he wasn't sure that he had heard you correctly.

you, in your infinite wisdom (or rather, drunken idiocy), barrelled on like a bull who had just seen red cloth, "i'm so serious! you're the one i should've been with all along!"

you wave a hand at him, as if showcasing him to an invisible jury, "you're smart and you're sweet, and you actually care about me, unlike him!"

choso blinks, his expression unreadable, "okay," he says slowly, setting the glass back down on the table, "i think maybe, uh, you should sit down?"

"i don't wanna sit down, i want you to stop looking so perfect right now."

there's a faint flush creeping up choso's neck, like red pigment staining cream watercolour canvas, "perfect?"

"yes!" you hiccuped, teetering over the couch, "you're supposed to be my best friend, and instead you just stand there with your stupid forearms, and your everything, and it's not fair!"

choso doesn't move, doesn't even speak. just stands there, vaguely dumbstruck. like you had hung the moon, and then yanked it back down to earth to hurl it at his chest.

"i should've been dating you, cho," you declare again, louder this time, and your finger jabs his broad chest like it was somehow his fault, "you're the best, y'know that? and you're so hot, how did i not realise this sooner?"

your best friend's expression goes on a journey of varying emotions, shock and disbelief, panic and confusion. all while his candied pink lips open and close, "uh," because by now, eloquence had left the room for both parties. his hands hovering awkwardly like he wasn’t sure whether to steady you or flee. his ears noticeably red, the flush creeping down his neck.

but drunk-dumped you wasn't done. oh no, this was your oscar moment. the hill you were going to die on. the ted talk that no one asked for.

and you were on a roll now, "i mean, look at you! you've got the broody, hot guy thing down so well, and you know that's my type. and everyone knows it, like why aren't we dating already?"

choso's mouth curls again, but no sound comes out. he looks like he wants to crawl into a snowbank and bury himself there forever, "okay, i think maybe you should sit down before you hurt yourself, or, uh, the furniture."

"i'm fine!" you'd declared, throwing your arms up in defiance just as your knees decided that they were absolutely not fine. you wobbled, and in an instant, choso's warm hands are on your shoulders, steadying you with ease.

the searing heat of his touch makes your heart lurch in a way that felt far too real for comfort. you look up at him, his face close enough that you could see the faint freckles dusting his nose, and your breath hitches.

he's close enough now that his lips could press against yours with the mere turn of his head. but you know that choso's just too kind and thoughtful to kiss you in this state right now. he also looks like he's about to gently suggest that you pull yourself together. you wouldn't know, because you've just bulldozed right over him with zero brakes.

tears stream down your face still, but they're starting to slow. sticky and hot, tacking to your cheeks, as you deliver the final blow, "if i asked you to kiss me now — like genuinely right now, would you, cho?"

you would never know what choso's reply would be, because you hiccup violently. the kind that punches your chest and makes you sway. fate was never done with you, because your stomach lurches in warning. you had clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes wide with panic.

choso, bless his heart, had looked ready to throw himself in front of you, "bathroom. now," he'd commanded, his voice taking on a rare, firm edge.

and that's right where your memory cut off, mercifully plunging you into the black void of your vodka-soaked brain. no idea if you'd made it to bathroom. no idea if you'd thrown up all over him, classy as always.

but the last thing you did remember, the thing that haunted you eve now, like a ghost tapping on your shoulder, was the look on choso's face. wide-eyed, jaw slack. like you had flipped his entire world upside down.

choso sits cross-legged on the cold dorm floor, the faint creak of wood beneath him. in his hands is a neatly wrapped gift, small and unassuming. but painstakingly chosen for you. the crimson ribbon, shiny and festive, catches the light of the desk lamp.

it wasn't extravagant, nothing flashy nor pricey. but it was thoughtful, personal. something that he had picked out weeks ago, back when everything between you two had been normal.

back when you didn't look at your phone, and decide he wasn't worth answering.

choso's thumb grazes the corner of the box, smoothing over the edges of the paper that he had meticulously folded after watching youtube tutorials. but now? the box felt heavier than it had any right to. would you even want this anymore? would you even want to see him?

choso sighs, letting his head tip back against the edge of his bed frame. it was a tight and awful feeling, something small and sharp that had wormed its way into his chest.

it wasn't just the silence. it wasn't even the unanswered texts or the way you’d been avoiding him like he was the human incarnation of bad news.

it was the fact that you were you. his best friend. the person he always knew how to read — until now, when everything felt scrambled.

he stares at the gift again, his brows furrowing. he'd been turning this over in his mind for seven straight days, wearing grooves into his thoughts like a track stuck on repeat. did you regret it? did you even remember what you said?

and worse — what if you did mean it?

that last thought was the one that always hit hardest. he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, the dark strands falling back into his face. somewhere on his desk, his phone buzzed softly, and for a second, his pulse jumped. but when he checked, it wasn't you.

because of course it wasn’t.

"pathetic," choso muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.

seven days.

seven long, agonising days since you'd stumbled into your apartment like the ghost of heartbreak past — tear-streaked, half-drunk, and dropping words so raw they’d knocked the air out of choso's lungs.

seven days since you’d looked at him like he was everything good in the world — right before nearly puking on him and passing out on the couch in a heap of drunken devastation.

and seven days of brutal radio silence ever since.

choso groaned, dragging a hand down his face as he slouched against the edge of his bed. he got it — why you'd be embarrassed. he, he was still processing it, the memory looping in his head like a cursed highlight reel.

"you're amazing, cho. you're perfect."

the words echoed, soft and slurred, over and over like a broken record choso couldn’t shut off. a selfish part of him — a really shameful, awful part — had been glad your ex was out of the picture. not that it was a surprise; choso had never liked that guy. too loud, too cocky. the kind of guy who thought buying overpriced cologne absolved him of skipping deodorant.

but then there was the other part of him — the one that made him feel like a jerk. the part that felt guilty for feeling anything at all. because he wasn’t supposed to feel this way about you.

choso wasn't supposed to have spotify playlists privately curated with all your favourite songs. wasn't supposed to have started buying extra hair ties, just because the thought of you stealing one was so annoyingly appealing.

and he definitely wasn't supposed to have been quietly, hopelessly in love with you for five years and counting.

how many times had he messaged now? four? five? enough that he was starting to feel like that guy, the one who couldn’t take a hint. what if you'd sobered up and realised last friday was just drunk nonsense? what if you didn't like him like that at all?

had he not spent seven days drowning his misery in tubs of mango and pistachio ice cream? enough was enough.

choso's thumb hovered over your contact for a long, stupid second, debating whether to send one more pointless text. but before he could add another "hey, just checking in," he swiped away and hit a different contact. a boisterous teenager with a shock of pink hair.

he shoots off a quick text, almost grimacing as he hits send.

Choso Kamo: Need advice. Got a hypothetical situation. yuujithegoat2003: if this is smth weird i'm not googling it for u

choso rolled his eyes, already regretting this decision. but he needed to hear an outside opinion.

Choso Kamo: It's not weird, serious this time. If someone confesses something private to you while they are drunk, then avoids you for a week, what do you do? Hypothetically?

a pause, and then:

yuujithegoat2003: is this someone a hot girl lol

choso sighed, his dry lips twitching despite himself.

Choso Kamo: Yes. Also, serious answers only. yuujithegoat2003: ok ok. do they remember what they said? Choso Kamo: Most likely not.

yuujithegoat2003: huh...so did they say something good? or was it rude? Choso Kamo: It was good. Really quite good. yuujithegoat2003: bro this seems easy, just ask if they meant it.

choso blinked at his phone, at the...almost reasonable response. suspiciously reasonable, coming from his younger brother.

Choso Kamo: And if they freak out? Or say that they didn't mean it? yuujithegoat2003: then u say 'just kidding' and blow the place up and leave the country. i can get u a fake id, i know a guy. i know lots of guys.

Choso Kamo: You need to stop being influenced by Gojo Satoru. Just because his public break-up landed on national news does not make it a premise for my own situation. Hypothetical situation. yuujithegoat2003: ok, gojo just said no one gaf abt your love life anyway. seriously tho if u like this hypothetical person, just be chill. don't be all intense and scare them off bc its never that deep.

Choso Kamo: Love is that deep. Especially when you care for the other person a lot. yuujithegoat2003: ur so dramatic bro. anyway good luck.

yuujithegoat2003: also if you get rejected don't tell me bc i can't handle second hand embarrassment. thx. gtg to work. these pizzas don't deliver themselves ay

choso glances down at the gift still in his lap, the ribbon he'd so painstakingly tied now a little crushed — much like his pride. the box stares back at him accusingly, as if to say, what's the plan here, genius? wait for her to magically show up?

choso exhales through his nose, sharp and frustrated. sitting here wallowing wasn’t doing him any favours, and neither was yuuji's unhelpful voice.

"yeah, sure," he mutters under his breath, shoving the box into his jacket pocket. he stands abruptly, grabbing his jacket off the back of his desk chair.

if you weren’t going to talk to him, fine. he'd bring the conversation to you. answers, he thought, stepping out into the cold. the winter air bit at his face, but it was bracing, grounding even. one way or another, tonight was going to settle this.

the knocking was relentless.

you tried to ignore it at first, clutching your blanket like it was a shield against all outside forces. whoever was at the door would get the hint eventually. probably. hopefully.

but no, the knocking persisted, evolving into a deliberate rhythm, like some overzealous drummer auditioning for a garage band.

"unbelievable," you groaned, peeling your headphones off and tossing them onto the pillow where they landed with a hollow clatter. if this was the pizza guy you'd ordered from two hours ago, he was wildly late, and you were too broke to tip him anyway.

dragging yourself off the mattress felt like an olympic event. your legs wobbled, your blanket fortress collapsed behind you, and your pride was buried somewhere under the covers still. at least you'd showered earlier — small victories.

your damp hair dripped cold trails down the back of your oversized sweatshirt, and you caught a whiff of cocoa butter as you shuffled to the door. that was…something acceptable at least. but then the mirror by the entryway betrayed you, reflecting sleep-swollen eyes, and the faint ghost of face mask residue clinging stubbornly to your skin.

perfect. a vision of grace and dignity.

you yank the door open, ready to unleash a pointed what do you want? — but the words lodge somewhere in your throat.

smooth. and oh, just your luck.

there stood choso, a walking anomaly in the drab matrix of your sad little existence. his tall frame fills the doorway, backlit by the flickering hallway light, clad in a baggy black tee and faded denim that didn't quite match the nervous energy rolling off him in waves. his hair was tied up in a messy bun, spiky strands sticking out like an afterthought, and of course, he looked unfairly good for someone who had probably spent the past week avoiding the sunlight.

"uh, hey," he says, his voice softer than usual — careful, even. like he thought you might throw the nearest piece of furniture at him and sprint into the night.

"hey?" you echo, voice brittle as you folded your arms tighter. the sweatshirt you were wearing — his sweatshirt, one that he had left here weeks ago — suddenly felt two sizes too big and painfully obvious, "what are you doing here?"

choso scratches the back of his neck, his gaze flickering over you briefly before darting to the floor, "i needed to see you."

"at…eight at night? without warning?"

"would you have answered if i'd texted you?"

the air between you stilled as your brain scrambles for a retort, but he had you dead to rights. with a reluctant huff, you step aside. "fair point. just come in."

choso hesitates for half a second before stepping inside, his presence making your already small apartment feel even more claustrophobic. he's taking a quick glance around, and you watched, mortified, as his eyes landed on the pile of crumpled tissues precariously close to a half-drunk mug of cocoa and a bottle of jack daniel's teetering on the edge of the coffee table.

"sorry for the mess," you mutter, your voice defensive as you crossed your arms tighter.

"it's fine," choso says, a little too quickly, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. his gaze lingers on you for a beat longer than necessary, "i didn't mean to…interrupt."

"you didn't interrupt anything." you wave vaguely at the disaster zone that was your apartment.

choso's lips twitch, almost like he wanted to smile but wasn't sure if now was the time, "look, i just —" he trails off, his usual dull voice faltering as he pulled something small and neatly wrapped from his pocket, "i came to give you this. and talk."

you stare at the gift in his hands, shiny crimson ribbon and all, your pulse kicking up like it had somewhere urgent to be, "christmas came early? thanks, cho," you say, mirroring his words with the kind of ease that only comes from too many shared silences. "i'm fine, though. i wasn't up to much."

choso cracks a small, half-hearted smile, but it's like watching a flicker of light in a dim room — there, but not really there. "i tried texting," he says, glancing at you, searching for something.

"i know," you murmur, suddenly finding the floor very interesting, "i just wasn't in the mood for much talking."

choso huffs, a sound halfway between exasperation and amusement, "i noticed," he says dryly, and that only makes the air in the room more thick and uncomfortable.

you sigh, letting your shoulders slump as you flop back onto the couch, curling your knees up to your chest like you're trying to make yourself small enough to disappear, "so, what? you came here to check if i'm still breathing?"

"kind of," choso admits, settling awkwardly on the edge of your coffee table, his long legs folded beneath him in that way that makes him look like he’s trying to physically contain himself. his knees bump into yours, and you have to fight the urge to pull away, like you could get too close, "but mostly...i came to talk about last friday night."

your stomach does a horrifying little flip, the kind that sends cold fingers crawling up your spine. you stare at him, silently willing him to read the begging look in your eyes and back off, but he doesn't. he's never been the type to take the hint.

"i've been thinking about it all week," he continues, his voice quiet but steady, as if he's preparing himself for something big, "and i need to know if —"

"nope," you interrupt, holding up a hand, "nope. we're not going there."

choso blinks at you, like he's trying to process the sudden barricate that you've just put up. but you're so not ready for this conversation, not now, nor ever. and you'll be damned if he gets any closer to the minefield. he scowls, his brows knitting together like he's resisting the urge to push you off the couch, "why not?"

"because it doesn't matter, okay?" you lean your head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling like you can will this conversation away, "i was drunk as hell, cho. you're overthinking it."

he scoffs, his voice sharp now, like he's cutting through your flimsy deflection with a blade, "i don't think i am."

you wince, shrinking a little under the weight of his stony gaze, "why does this even matter?"

"you think i can just brush it off like it didn't happen?" and there's a rawness in choso's voice that hits you harder than expected.

your cheeks heat up, a fiery blush creeping up your neck, "i didn't mean it," you mutter.

"yes, you did," choso snaps back, with uncharacteristic heat, and he leans forward, enough to close the distance between you two, "and you know how i know? because you've been ignoring me all week. if it was just some drunk nonsense, you would have laughed it off by now. but you haven't."

you open your mouth to argue, to push back. but the words stick heavy in your throat. nothing comes out, and it must prove choso all the more right, because you watch as his bottom lip is captured by his teeth, suddenly watching plush skin split.

"do you want me to apologise?" you ask finally, voice a little too sharp for comfort, "because i will. i'll say i'm sorry for putting you in that position and —"

"i don't want an apology," choso cuts you off, and the dim light of your apartment makes the dark circles under his eyes stand out like bruises, "i want the truth."

you freeze, your heart thudding like a drum in your chest, "what truth, cho?"

"that you meant it," choso says softly, "that you meant it when you said that you wish it had been me."

the words hang in the air, heavy and electric. your breath catches, as your mind goes blank. an entire power outage, as you blink at him like a fish out of water. finally, after what feels like an eternity, you force the knot in your throat to loosen just enough to speak, "yeah," you whisper, "i meant it."

choso's whole body seems to deflate, like he's been holding up the weight of the sky. his shoulders slump, and the sheer relief on his face hits you like a tidal wave. it's almost enough to undo you. there's a sound, soft and shaky and far too vulnerable that escapes him.

neither of you move. the moment stretches out, fragile. like it could snap in half if either of you dared to breathe too loud.

then, choso is the first to move.

there's no hesitation, no uncertainty. just pure intention, like a dam finally bursting open. he shifts forward, hands finding their way to your waist with an urgency that makes your pulse go into overdrive. choso's grip is firm, but there's a reverence to it, as if you're something he's waited his entire life to touch. he pulls you to him, and you can feel the heat of him flood your chest, your blood, your bones.

"what if you regret this?" you murmur into his chest, voice muffled as your arms slip around his necks, holding onto the beautiful man like he may float way.

"not a chance," choso replies, and his voice is raspier than you've ever heard it, like he's saying it more to himself than to you.

choso kamo finally kisses you.

the kind of kiss that feels like a storm is finally breaking over clear skies, with an unrestrainted longing that crashes over the both of you.

his sweet lips meet yours with a hunger that makes your head spin, raw and real. choso clearly doesn't want to hold back, and neither do you.

his hands tighten at your waist, pulling you closer as your fingers thread through his hair, tugging lightly at russet strands.

choso groans into your mouth, a soft and burning thing that ignites every nerve in your body.

without breaking his hold on your lips, his wide hands slide down, finding the back of your thighs, making you shamefully clench them closer together.

but he's tapping them in silent invitation, and you leap into him, your legs wrapping around his waist as he lifts you effortlessly. the world around you blurs as he stumbles backwards.

and when the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed, gravity does its job. you both tumble into the mattress in a jumbled mess of limbs and muffled laughter, your heart pounding so loud, as you muster up the courage to prod your tongue at his lips, letting him part his mouth so you can take up more of choso.

you land beneath him, his weight pressing into you in the best way possible, sending sharp spikes of heady arousal through you. and you blink up at him, breathless.

choso is so close now, his hazel eyes locked on yours with a rare intensity, like the calm façade is entirely shattered now. but there's a smile on his lips, a crooked little thing that sends a rush of warmth through you.

"hi, choso," you whisper, your voice soft yet breathless as he chases your lips again, a desperate hunger in his eyes. it's as if he can't bear to be apart from you, even for a heartbeat.

"hey," he murmurs back, that low rumble sending shivers down your spine, igniting a heat you can't ignore.

you keep pressing kisses to his glossy lips, the world narrowing down the press of his mouth and how choso's hands cradle your waist like you might slip away if he doesn't hold on tight enough.

without breaking contact, choso shifts, his strong hands guiding you gently, firmly.

"don' wanna crush you," he spills against your mouth, his voice low and rough, and before you can reply, he flips you effortless.

the movement is seamless, fluid even. and you're suddenly perched atop him, straddling his thighs and sinking into the worn denim of his jeans.

he's leaning back against the covers beneath him, as his chest rises and falls in unsteady waves as he gazes up at you. expression caught somewhere between awe and hunger.

choso looks so completely, heartbreakingly in love with you that it leaves you breathless. his hands tighten on your waist, fingertips pressing with a near bruising intensity into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt that clings to your frame.

his cheeks are flushed a deep, telling pink, and you can't help the soft, teasing coo that slips from your lips as you trace the curve of his temple with gentle fingers, "is something wrong, cho?" you murmur.

his lips, swollen and glistening from your kiss, part slightly, his breath uneven and catching on the edges of unspoken emotions, "nothing. nothing, i swear," he says, the words tumbling out rough and raw, his voice pitched low and vulnerable.

his hands slide you closer, his grip firm but trembling slightly, and his next confession nearly undoes you, makes your core moisten even, "just…never done this before."

"really?" you whisper, eyes widening as you take him in — the flush on choso's cheeks, the way he won't quite meet your gaze, the way he holds you like you're something precious.

the realisation that he's never shared this part of himself with anyone else tugs sharply at your heartstrings, "never?"

choso swallows thickly, nodding once, his voice a quiet hum as he admits, "mhm."

"ah, you're so cute, cho," you giggle, watching as the man scrunches his nose in mock protest.

"tch, 'm not meant to be cute."

you huff, feigning disappointment, "and here i was, wishing you a very merry christmas eve." he whines as you lean in, pressing a teasing kiss to his neck, right where his heartbeat thrums beneath his pale skin. your lips find their home at the juncture, and you can't help but smile at the way he whines at your touch, bucks his hips up into yours.

"must have been real good to get a holiday gift like this."

you pull back just enough to admire your handiwork, a little red bloom that blossoms on thin skin, bruised petals that mark him now. choso's swallowing thickly, his adam's apple bobbing, as a soft whine escapes his lips again as you lean in, this time closer to the jaw. leaving a trail of kisses in a messy that makes choso squirm.

you press your thumb against his lower lip, feeling the soft and trembling skin quiver under your touch, "hey. open up," you coax, a teasing lilt colouring your voice.

choso looks up at you, his wide eyes clouded with desire as dark strands of hair fall across his forehead, "huh, what?"

you tap his lip again, impatience bubbling in your chest, "c'mon, open your mouth. properly," and the way he immediately obeys, parting his glossy lips sends a thrill through you. the scent of clove and citrus envelops you as you lean in closer, running your tongue over his lower lip.

you let a glob of spit fall from your lip into his mouth, with a thick thwack! echoing in the air. you deliberately miss, just a little bit, to watch him squirm as he swallows, eyes fluttering shut and inky lashes staining his cheeks.

"so good, aren't you? good at playing nice, hah," you use your thumb to smear the slick over his lips, just a bit. to watch him shudder, entirely captivated by you. it's exhilarating and makes your cunt clench around nothing. probably seeping through the thin material of your shorts and onto his thick jeans.

bang bang bang!

a sharp knock that booms at your door, enough to make your ears ring. you hear choso groan beneath you, shifting slightly so you can feel the full, thick curve of his bulge right where you need him most.

"think we can ignore that?" he rasps, his voice rough and low, the sound of it leave slick strands clinging between your thighs.

you spread your legs just a little wider over him, watching as his frown dissipates and his jaw drops, distracted by the preview you've given him, "i'm really hoping so."

but whoever is at the door has no intention of being ignored. another knock rattles the wood, followed by an all-too-familiar voice yelling, "hey! open up! delivery!"

your brows furrow, recognition sparking, "cho, isn't that—"

he cuts you off with an apologetic sigh, lifting you off his lap with surprising gentleness. choso sets you down on the quilt, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before muttering under his breath, "it better not be."

you watch him go, more than a little distracted by the sight of his broad shoulders and the way his messy hair bobs with each step. already, you're plotting exactly how you’ll get your hands back in it once he returns.

choso swings the door open, and you hear a collective, "what the hell?" echo through the apartment — one part you, one part choso, and one part…

"itadori yuuji?" you blurt, leaning over to get a look. sure enough, there's choso's younger brother, standing in the doorway in a bright red pizza delivery uniform, balancing three large boxes in one hand and his phone in the other.

yuuji blinks at the two of you, then raises an eyebrow, his expression a mix of confusion and something vaguely accusatory before reading off his phone in a robotic voice, "uh…merry christmas eve. i have three pizzas. extra cheese. stuffed crust," he pauses, not able to keep the act up as his golden eyes narrow, "but, uh — bro, what happened to your face?"

you bite your lip to keep from laughing as choso straightens, his expression caught somewhere between mortified and furious, "yuuji—"

but the younger man's attention shifts to you, his gaze taking in the oversized sweatshirt you're wearing, choso's sweatshirt, and his jaw drops, "oh hell no. this is the hot girl you texted me about?"

choso visibly flinches as you burst into giggles.

"that's like your best friend? that's like my sister-in-law!" yuuji throws up his hands in mock disbelief, "you really keep your circles tight, huh, man?"

before choso can even respond, yuuji leans in closer, squinting at his older brother, "and seriously, dude, what's all that on your face?"

choso groans, snatching the pizzas from yuuji with one hand and shoving him toward the hall with the other, "okay, that's enough. get out."

"you haven't paid me! that's against the law!" yuuji protests, but choso grabs the scruff of his brother's uniform collar, steering him out the door.

"i'll pay you double. triple. just leave."

"my pizzas are probably cold now anyway," you call out, adding fuel to the fire.

"yeah? well, you look a bit too busy to eat them anyway," yuuji swivels his head over his shoulder to wag a finger at you with a grin, before choso finally shoves him fully into the hallway.

as the door slams shut, you hear yuuji's muffled voice echoing, "i'm telling everyone. i'm telling dad. i'm telling sukuna. i'm telling gramps, gojo, nanami —"

you can hear their bickering voices fade down the hallway, to where choso is probably gonna pack him into the car and send him off.

you glance down at the box you'd set aside earlier, your curiosity getting the better of you. carefully pulling at the ribbon, you open it to find a small scrapbook, beautifully made. inside are photos and clippings of you and choso: movie ticket stubs, receipts from late-night takeout runs, train tickets from your trip to the coast.

your chest tightens as you run your fingers over the familiar handwriting scrawled in the margins, a quote from a cheesy romantic movie that you had forced choso to watch with you a few months ago. what an honour it is to be loved like this.

[writingstreetspirit]

All I Want For Solstice, (Is You)

Summary: What could possibly be better than celebrating Winter Solstice with your family?

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Shit ton of fluff, sappy feelings, pregnancy

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: I hope this pieces was alright, I’d thought it be finished a lot earlier this December since I started writing it in November. But my cat unexpectedly became sick and had to be put down so I’ve been taking time to mourn his passing as well as getting back the energy to write again. Anyways, I hope you all will have a wonderful Winter Holiday however you’re celebrating!

—

“We’re going to be late!” You hurried down the stairs as fast as you could in your, although low but still, heels. Scanning eyes searched for your handbag while simultaneously putting on the earrings that Azriel gifted you for your last birthday.

Azriel came out from the kitchen, a gift bag with the presents for your friends in hand. “Maybe a little. The others can survive our absence for a few minutes. Remember last Winter Solstice? Cassian and Nesta didn’t arrive until more than half an hour after everyone else.”

You huffed a breathless chuckle, grabbing for one of the warmer formal coats on the clothing rack in the hallway. “Yeah, and they’ll never hear the end of it. I’d rather not have a repeat of last year.”

Azriel, who was already dressed and ready to go outside, took a gentle hold of your upper arms. You halted to a stop at the sudden touch. “[Name], slow down, take a deep breath. You know that stress isn’t good for you.”

Breathing in deep through your nose and slowly releasing it through your mouth, you could feel the tightness in your shoulders loosen. Azriel smiled, gently squeezing his hands around your flesh. “Good, that’s better.”

Nodding, you slumped your head forward, resting your temple against your bondmate’s firm shoulder. “Sorry.”

Warm hands cupped your cheeks softly, tilting your head up so that he could look at you. Azriel’s hazel eyes held that warm and tender look that he only reserved for you, for the love of his life.

“Sweetheart, you never have to apologize for that. I just want you to be healthy and happy, the both of you.”

His hands instinctively left your cheeks to wander down your dress, settling over your swollen stomach, one lone shadow joining their master’s hands. You were well into the third and last trimester, and with just a few more weeks worth of time, the growing baby within you was to be born.

With it being your and Azriel’s first child, every single aspect of the pregnancy was completely new, both beautiful beyond words, and downright scary at times. While the both of you were ready and eager to welcome a little boy or girl, it is frightening thinking that someone so small and precious was to be brought into the world.

You sighed, leaning into the familiar and comforting touch. Azriel was always touching your belly ever since the news of a little life growing inside you were revealed, you're almost surprised they hadn’t left marks on your skin yet. His shadows were not much better, if Azriel couldn’t be near you for any reason, several of them would remain beside you to watch over and protect.

”We’re both okay, how could we not be when we have such a doting male taking care of us?” As if in agreement with your words, a foot kicked your stomach, right under one of Azriel’s palm. A smile grew on your lips, and Azriel downright beamed at the feel. You cooed, gazing lovingly at your round stomach, ”Yeah, isn’t that right, little one?”

Another kick, this time firmer and the small laugh that escaped from Azriel sounded a little choked. He leaned down, pressing a long kiss against where his hands had been seconds before. With his lips still pressed against you, Azriel whispered words that you had a hard time hearing. But the way he spoke them, the affection dripping from his voice, you knew they were made of love.

After a few more moments, Azriel seemed to be able to tear himself away from your belly, the shadow retreating to their master. Once back up on his feet, he leaned down to press a slow kiss on your lips. You couldn’t help but melt against your bandmate, arms wrapping themself around his neck to keep him close. The need after breath was what finally made you have to pull back from those alluring lips.

”Are you ready to leave?” Azriel mumbled, aiding your limbs in to your coat and buttoned it up. He pressed a kiss against your temple, a strong forearm sneaking behind and round your waist. At your smile and nod, the two of you opened the door and stepped out into the snow.

The Townhouse was bustling with activity when Azriel and you arrived. Loud talking, laughter and the clinking of silverware in the kitchen greeted your ears immediately after the door closed behind the two of you. Shrugging off the small amount of snow that had collected on your coat and in your hair, Azriel helped you out of the coat as well as his own.

With his arm wrapped around your waist, Azriel and you stepped further into the warm house and into the kitchen. Feyre, who was leaning against the counter beside Rhysand, noticed your arrival first. She threw herself over to you, giving you a hug. “Azriel, [Name]! Welcome, the food’s almost ready!”

“We’re not late, are we?” You asked upon being released, immediately being enveloped in a hug by Rhys, then Cassian, followed by Nesta, Mor, and lastly Elain. Amren had unfortunately been busy elsewhere and unable to join your family for celebration.

“No, no, you’re fine. Cassian and Nesta just arrived minutes earlier.” Rhysand reassured you, pulling away from hugging his fellow Illyrian brother. Azriel gave you a pointed, but tender look, as if saying ‘told you so’. You rolled your eyes at him, a somewhat sheepish smile tugging on your lips.

Azriel huffed, pressing his lips against your temple. His arm creeped back around your side, his hand resting against your stomach as he so usually did the last couple months. You leaned back against his steady form with a content smile.

Cassian, having seen the whole scene, let out a snort and smirked at Azriel. “You’re so wiped, Az.”

Your mate’s eyes that had been locked on you hardened a bit in warning, directing his gaze at Cassian. Feyre and Azriel stifled a giggle when Nesta’s hand made contact with the back of her mate's head, a tsked ‘idiot’ escaping her mouth.

The smirk remained, but his eyes gave away to gentleness. ”On a serious note, we’re so happy for you two. How are you and the baby doing [Name]? Not long left till your little one is here.”

You smiled, your own hand settling on top of your husband’s on your stomach. “We’re doing great Cass. Just a couple more weeks before you get to meet your niece or nephew.”

“From what I’ve gathered, Azriel seems certain that it’s a girl.” Rhysand said, sharing a look with you. That was indeed true, whenever Azriel would speak with you about your unborn child, he would always call them a girl. Whether it was about the nursery or baby clothes or what color their eyes would have, the Shadowsinger thought you two would have a daughter.

You knew your mate would be ecstatic no matter if the baby would turn out to be a boy or girl, but it did secretly warm your heart imagining Azriel with a daughter. But you would have to wait for the birth to find out if your mate was right or not.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait to find out.” You said wistfully. Azriel hummed, a loving smile on his face. He leaned down, pressing a brief kiss on your lips, whispering low for only you to hear. “I can’t wait to meet her, or him.”

Feyre smiled at your comment, gazing at her own mate before looking at the stove. “Yes, indeed we will. Anyways, the food should be ready. Let’s eat!”

The following hour was spent at the dining table, surrounded by your closest friends and family eating a delicious meal and delightful drinks. Cheeks almost sore from smiling and belly full and content, everybody eventually migrated to the living room to land on the couches and armchairs.

After the gifts were given, received and opened, Azriel sat on an armchair that was appropriately sized for Illyrian wings with you sitting with your back pressed against his chest. The sun had already gone down and the snow fell heavy outside, the energy from the day had been all but spent. In your wonderful mate’s arms, you couldn’t help but to be dowsing.

“Did you have fun today, sweetheart?” Azriel asked low, just for you to hear. You nodded, tipping your head back to look at him, a slow and sleepy smile spreading across your face. “This was the best Solstice I’ve ever celebrated.”

A warm and tender hand caressed your flushed cheek. His other hand rested on your belly, thumb swiping back and forth against the stretched skin. A couple of his shadows flowed across the skin that was not covered by his hand, curious and delighted by their soon to be new friend.

The baby within was peacefully sleeping after having kicked the whole time that the gifts had been opened. “I’m glad that you feel the same. I take it that we should be heading home soon?”

You hummed, leaning back further in Azriel’s warm embrace, face nuzzling deeper into his shoulder blade. “Not just yet. Stay like this for a little while longer, your comfortable.”

Azriel chuckled but tightened his arms around you, leaning his cheek against the top of your head. “Whatever my mate wants, she gets.”

[pboogerswbb]

LET IT SNOW

Paige Bueckers x reader In which Paige and reader spend a snowy day babysitting reader's niece and nephew (loosely based on a request i got weeks ago) Warnings: fluff, suggestiveish? very very very sweet, will make you sick (fluff is very hard for me to write ok be nice) Wordcount: 2.9K A/C: happy christmas eve everyone <3 this is my christmas present to y'all so enjoy this while i take some time to rest and spend time with my family :) unfortunately that means you gotta wait for chapter 2 of so it goes for a little longer but i want to take a break for a few days from writing over christmas! i hope you understand. everyone who celebrates christmas pls spend it eating, drinking (if you're of age), and don't kill your family pls (i know that's much to ask over the holidays let's be real). i'll return to writing so it goes post christmas! MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS <3

-

“There’s a list of allergies on the fridge, if Mia throws a fit just put her in the stroller and walk her around for a bit, if she won’t calm down call me. Whatever you see in the fridge you can eat, and call me whenever! I’ll have my ringer up and-”

“Chloe-”

“and really call me whenever you need to! And have your ringer up too!”

“Chloe!”

Your aunt’s husband is pulling on her arm, trying to get her further than the front door but 10 minutes have already been spent going through everything for the day.

“Auntie Chlo we’ve babysat before. They’re in good hands,” you reassure, smiling brightly at her. She inhales deeply and chuckles when she realises how long she’s been rambling for.

“You’re right, the kids love you. Especially you Paige, they’ve missed you. Been showing them clips of your games!” Your aunt says, head tilting upwards to look at the blonde girl standing behind you, hands wrapped around your waist. 

You and Paige had been dating for over a year now, celebrating your first of what would be many anniversaries. In that short amount of time the blonde had made her way into the depths of your closest circle, becoming a part of your family. It happened effortlessly, the way she fit into your life, the way she clicked with your relatives. You swore they loved her more than you at this point. This was about to be the first Christmas she ever spent with your family, and just the idea of her with all your loved ones made your chest fill with warmth.

So when your aunt Chloe called you in a crisis on Christmas Eve, her babysitter getting sick at the last minute, you and Paige were quick to agree to look after your nearly 2-year-old niece Mia and 7-year-old nephew Leo. 

“Go! We got this aight,” Paige reassures, resting her chin on the top of your head as she does.

Pulled away by her husband, your auntie waves goodbye and closes the door, leaving you and Paige alone with the kids standing behind you. Before you can even react, Mia’s lower lip begins to quiver, the sight of her mother gone upsetting the small child. 

“Uh oh,” you mumble, Paige swiftly making her way to the little girl and picking her up, pouting her own lower lip to mirror the child.

“Are you sad because you miss mama? She’ll be back later, I promise,” Paige coos to Mia, rocking her in her arms. She’s wearing a white t-shirt despite the snow outside, for some reason she was always warm, and her biceps were growing more prominent as she held the child by her hip. The sight of Paige comforting your niece made your heart flutter, making it hard to tear your eyes away. watching Mia bury her face into the crook of Paige’s neck.

“We’ve got a really fun day planned for you!” You gleam at both of the children, ruffling Leo’s hair. He laughs but pushes your hand off, running to the kitchen.

“Can I have a cookie?” The boy asks, clearly taking advantage of the moment that his parents’ watchful eyes weren’t around.

“No-” you start but Paige is already following him to the kitchen. She was such a pushover, always had been with the kids. Just some pouting, eyes batting and she was ready to bend every which way for them.

“Paige!” You complain as the blonde easily reaches to the top shelf, grabbing a jar of chocolate chip cookies.

“What?” She asks unbothered by your scolding, handing a cookie to Leo, and taking a bite of one herself. “Wanted a cookie,” she mumbles, her mouth full.

“Cookie! Gimme!” Mia babbles, short hands reaching for the cookie your girlfriend is holding between her teeth.

“Oh good God…” you groan, rubbing your forehead, already knowing this was going to be a long day if the kids had the blonde wrapped around their finger this much already. But when Mia giggles as Paige feeds her a part of the cookie, you decide not to care. If there was a time to spoil the kids it was on Christmas Eve.

“C’mere,” Paige nods you over, grabbing another cookie. You scurry into the kitchen, grabbing Mia from her and kissing the little girl’s forehead. She giggles brightly, clearly in a much better mood. You nuzzle your nose into her soft cheek, eliciting more laughs from the baby. The whole time Paige can’t look away even for a second, her heart fluttering with affection. Paige was completely in love with you, and seeing you like this only made her feel it more.

“What are we gonna dooo all day?” Leo interrupts the moment, yanking on Paige’s shirt. She grins and ruffles his hair affectionately. Leo and Paige had bonded quickly the first time they met, and now they’re best friends. In fact Leo facetimes Paige weekly on your aunt’s phone.

“We’ve got some ideas.” The blonde says smirking.

-

The weather is perfect, the gentle winter sun not warming but making everything brighter as the rays reflect off the snow. Snowflakes fall softly from the sky, adding to the already covered ground as you walk behind Leo and Paige, holding Mia in your arms, trying to catch your breath as you climb on top of a hill.

“Isn’t this high enough?” You ask, glancing down, worrying that Leo would be too scared to get on the sled. Predictably so, the two in front of you look over their shoulders, immediately uttering the word “no” in unison

“Auntie Paigey and your big brother have gone cray cray,” you murmur to the babbling Mia, wrapped in her warmest winter gear. 

“Okay, here’s good!” Paige says, finally putting the sled she was carrying down, looking around the group.

“You wanna go first Leo?”

Suddenly the boy looks down, hesitating. It’s pretty steep, especially at first. You could tell he felt unsure, but Paige noticed it too.

“I’m actually lowkey scared, can we ride down together?” She asks, covering for the boy. For a moment your eyes meet with hers, wanting nothing more but to kiss her right now. Paige always had you weak in the knees, but the way she skillfully handled kids only made you love her more.

“Okay we can go together I guess,” Leo complains, deep down relieved. They sit down on the sled, Paige behind the boy, ready to steer.

“Wait!” She yelps, turning to you, blinking fast. “Kiss for good luck.”

Apparently she’d been feeling the same about the kiss.

Humming, you place Mia down on the ground to play with the snow, leaning close to Paige. Her warm lips press into yours, in a loving, gentle peck that let you know she wanted to do so much more, if it wasn’t for the company.

“Yuck!” Leo whines, making both of you giggle.

“Hey, have some respect for your auntie,” Paige grins and pushes the sled forward. Suddenly they’re riding down at such speed you can barely watch. Someone was bound to get hurt.

Both of them scream as the speed accelerates, the sounds echoing in the air. To your surprise they both make it all the way down safe and sound, Paige stopping the sled and jumping off.

“That was so fast!” Leo chuckles hysterically, making your girlfriend laugh too. You could hear them laughing all the way up where you were standing. 

“Ball,” Mia babbles, pointing at a pile of snow. Giggling, you sit down on the ground next to her, beginning to roll one snowball after the other and handing them to the girl. 

“Look Mia!” You gasp to get her attention. Her wide eyes turn to you, long eyelashes fluttering as she watches. You throw a snowball into the air, Mia’s eyes following as it crashes to the ground. Immediately she claps, a wide smile on her face to reward your efforts.

“Babe it’s your turn,” Paige’s voice says as she’s climbing up, trying to catch her breath.

You scoff, continuing to play with the snow for Mia. “Not happening P,”

“Oh you’re scared huh?” The blonde teases, a smug smirk spreading across her face.

Leo gasps. “It’s not scary at all! I was scared at first too!”

You roll your eyes, not falling for their games. 

“I’m playing with my girl here, you boys leave us alone,” you say, poking your tongue out at your girlfriend. She scoffs loud, walking over to you and wrapping her arms around your waist, lifting you up and throwing you over her shoulder with ease.

Leo laughs loud, pointing at the two of you. “Paige is not a boy!”

“Let me down!” You yelp, kicking your legs and arms but it’s no use. She’s much too strong, carrying you towards the sled. Your squeals make Mia laugh loudly, a wide smile spread on her face.

“Look after your sis for a bit, aight?” Paige tells Leo, placing you down on the sled. You’re still giggling, shaking your head.

“I’m not gonna! It’s scary!” You laugh, the blonde sitting snug behind you on the sled, wrapping her legs around you.

“Don’t be such a wuss,” she teases, her arms wrapping over your waist. Leaning in, you feel her hot air tickling against your ear as she whispers. “I gotchu ma, don’t worry.”

With that, Paige pushes off the snowy ground, holding onto you tight. Quickly the speed picks up, fluttering in the pit of your stomach. The freezing cold air tingles against your skin and your eyes water from the cold as you laugh.

“Ahhh P-“ you scream, turning your gaze backwards and finding that, to your shock, the blonde behind you is pushing on the ground to make you go even faster. “STOP!”

Paige giggles into your ear, her arms wrapping around you tight to hold you close. Soon it’s over as you reach the base of the hill, the speed finally slowing down and flutters in your abdomen disappearing.

“Told you it wasn’t so scary,” the blonde grins, helping you up.

“Uh yes it was,” you laugh, grabbing a handful of snow and throwing it at the girl in front of you. Some of it gets onto her face, making Paige pause.

Her mouth turns into a tight smile and her blue eyes widen. Immediately you know you’re in trouble.

“Oh it’s like that huh?” She says and you squeal, already beginning to run when she starts to throw the powdery snow all over you.

“No no no no please!” You can barely breathe, gasping for air and trying to run, the snowy ground making your steps heavy. Paige, being a D1 athlete, easily reaches you. 

“Oh so now you regret it!” She laughs, snow falling into your coat, down your neck, making you scream louder as the girl chasing you wraps her arms around your waist, spinning you in the air. 

“Stop! Paige!”

“Say please,” she orders, her tone lighthearted.

You roll your eyes, hating having to admit defeat, but knowing it must be done.

“Fine! Please, please stop Paige please,” you whine, batting your wide eyes at the girl. She looks at you, finally putting you down and kissing your forehead.

“Wanna hear you just like that later,” she whispers the dirty words into your ear, lips brushing against your skin, tingling. Before you can scoff or tell her off, Mia’s loud cry disrupts the moment.

Both you and Paige hurry up the hill, towards Leo who’s holding his sister, bouncing him gently to soothe the little girl.

“What happened?” You ask, swiftly scooping Mia from the boy and trying her cheeks to see if she was cold. Nope, perfectly toasty from all the layers.

“Nothing! She just started crying!”

But then, studying her face, you notice the redness of her eyes, her mittened hands trying to rub them desperately.

“Aw, she’s sleepy,” Paige says, like reading your mind, grabbing the sled. 

“We should probably head back, she needs to take a nap,” you murmur, trying to soothe the girl in your arms, ear-piercing screams and cries spilling from her mouth.

All four of you hurry to the car, but no attempts to calm Mia down help. She’s exhausted, plump bottom lip quivering as she keeps crying the whole drive home. You could feel yourself getting exhausted, the loud noise becoming overwhelming and stressful. Paige could see it too, the way you were sighing and taking deep breaths. So when you return to the house, she grabs your hand and kisses it before getting up from the car.

“I’ll take her to bed okay? You rest ma,” she murmurs. Relief spreads all over your chest and you smile affectionately.

“How’d I get so lucky?” You ask.

“Nah, I’m lucky. Got the best girl in the entire world.

-

After an hour of the faint sounds of Paige’s lullabies (off-key but she would never admit that) and trying to reason with the 2-year-old like that might help, the cries eventually quiet down. Leo is resting too, playing in his room. You’ve been in the kitchen, making spaghetti for all of you. Checking the clock you realise it’s been about 30 minutes since you last heard any sound from Mia, yet Paige still hadn’t returned downstairs.

Quietly, you sneak your way up the stairs, ever so carefully opening the door into the bedroom to not wake up Mia. But what you find makes your heart flutter - in the dimmed out room, Paige and Mia are both asleep, your girlfriend holding the little girl close. The blonde’s mouth is slightly ajar, soft snores escaping through. For a moment you just watch, allowing the love you felt for them both to spread. You walk over, make sure they’re both covered up by the blanket before sneaking back out, leaving them in bed.

“Leo, come eat dinner soon, ok?” You whisper to him in the other room. His eyes lighting up, the little boy gets up holding a toy dinosaur and follows you downstairs.

“Can I watch The Grinch while I eat? Please please please!” He begs, giving you puppy eyes.

“Mmkay, just this once,” you bend to his will, setting it all up for him. You can’t help but watch Leo getting snuggled up on the couch, a blanket around him, eyes wide staring at the TV. Leaning against the arch into the living room, you feel your body tired from the day, muscles aching and mind exhausted. But your insides are fluttering with warmth, no other word for the specific feeling but pure joy. Walking back into the kitchen you begin to make your own plate of food.

You let your mind wonder, and maybe it’s risky. It’s much too soon to be thinking anything close to it. But since it’s Christmas, you let yourself. Your mind comes up with vivid images of you and Paige, in a house of your own, decorating the tree - Paige the only one tall enough to place the star on top. You can see you two baking cookies and watching Christmas movies, hot chocolate in bed. 

And maybe, just maybe eventually, two children of your own. There are flutters in your heart thinking about building snowmen with your little family, roasting marshmallows in the fireplace, dressing them up in tiny costumes and sending family postcards to your relatives and friends. It felt so far away, yet you could see it so vividly. 

As if she had heard your thoughts, suddenly warm hands land on your waist, Paige’s reflection appearing in the window in front of you. Humming, her front presses flush to your back, fitting against you just right.

“I fell asleep,” she murmurs, burying her nose into your hair and inhaling. It’s like heaven, after a long day, to feel her like this again.

“I noticed,” you reply, beginning to make a plate for the girl as well. She watches closely, following every movement from behind you until her lips find your neck, beginning to press soft, loving kisses along the nape of it. 

Eyes fluttering shut, you hum, turning your head to face the blonde behind you. Hand reaching for your jaw, she pulls you into a gentle kiss, lips sliding against yours slowly. “Can’t wait to see you be a mom,” Paige whispers against your mouth, chest heaving.

A deep blush sets on your cheeks hearing the words, taking them in. The blonde watches your reaction, clearly trying to read you.

“I’m sorry if that’s too much to say this early but I-”

“No,” you shake your head with a smile. “I can’t wait for that either.”

Relief washes over your girlfriend, as she pecks your lips once more. 

“We’re gonna be so good ma, best parents in the world.”

Beaming with joy, both you and Paige walk into the living room where Leo is sitting, eyes glued to the movie.

“Yo! Scooch!” Paige tells the boy, who shuffles to the corner of the couch. Both you and your girlfriend sit in the opposite corner, holding your bowls of spaghetti and getting settled. The blonde quickly wraps an arm around you, pulling you to lean against her side. You’re snuggled up, feeding bites of food to each other and stealing kisses whenever the boy isn't watching.

“I love you,” Paige whispers into your ear, blue eyes sparkling with adoration.

“I love you too Paige,” you whisper back, cheeks rosy and heart fluttering from the perfect snowy day.

-

taglist: @xxloveralways14 @bueckersfive @sierrale8ne @thaatdigitaldiary @lovegalor333 @lupinqs @rosemariiaa @janaelalfysblunt @d3arapril @vamptizm

[reginamillls]

I Saw My Uncle Kissing Santa Claus

"You really gotta tell him man," Tommy hears Howie's voice coming into the kitchen from the hall. He's about to come in, but the answering voice makes Tommy stop.

"I know," Evan says, sounding odd. "I can't keep this a secret for much longer, it will just make things awkward for Tommy. He needs to be prepared for whats to come."

Tommy's brows furrow at that, and his palms feel sweaty all the sudden-

Things were going good between them, slow sure, but better then it was before. Stronger. This is their first Christmas together since their last one was spent apart and Tommy-

Is overthinking.

Tommy steps into the kitchen then and is met with two identical looks of surprise.

He's been caught.

"No time like the present, hey Buck," Howie grins as he claps Buck on the back before walking past Tommy. Howie then winks at Tommy, and any thoughts he had to worry melt away.

"You know you should really be the one to tell him-" Evan starts but Howie interupts him.

"You owe me big time, good luck, thank you!" Howie sing songs before he's stepping out of the kitchen, leaving a pouting Evan behind.

Tommy decides he just has to kiss that pout and Evan smiles against his lips before grabbing at Tommy's waist and bringing him in for a deeper kiss.

"You're-" A kiss. "Stalling."

"Okay," Evan admits. "I have something to tell you, and ah - I guess, I guess ask of you to." He starts, rambling. "And it-it's kinda cute?"

"Cute?" Tommy asks, raises a brow. "What-"

"Jee thinks you're Santa." Evan blurts out and Tommy's eyes widen.

Out of all the things he expected, that wasn't one of them.

"She. Thinks. I'm. Santa."

"Yup." Evan pops the 'p' at the end.

"Um, why?" Tommy asks, and he's leaning against the counter now, confused at the turn of events.

"She has a list," Evan says and he pulls it out of his pocket to present it to Tommy. The piece of paper has Jee-Yun all over it, from the stickers of every genre to the glittery writing. It makes Tommy smile when he looks at it.

"Why Tommy is Santa-" Evan starts and he clears his throat, being a little dramatic.

"One. He flies." Evan starts and Tommy nods his head.

"I do fly-"

"And so does Santa," Evan pokes at Tommy's chest. "Can I continue?" Tommy makes a motion to do so, and Evan lifts the list off again to read it off.

"Two. Tommy took us to see reindeer, and Santa has reindeer." That was true, Tommy knew a guy who worked for the zoo and was on a team that was rehibiliating some reindeer. Tommy had taken Jee and Evan there a few weeks ago.

"Three. He has a long red coat." That one was a stretch, but Tommy wouldn't argue against it. He had a long wool coat for when he camps out in the mountains, and it was indeed red, though it was a more muted shade then he thought Santa would wear. Jee had seen it last week when she had been over for the night with her brother to give Maddie and Howie a night off.

"Four - and this is where it gets cute," Evan says, completely fond of both his niece and his boyfriend. "He has a big smile and he laughs and makes people happy."

"That's sweet," Tommy says, blushing. He ducks his head and Evan steps closer into his bubble, wrapping his arms around Tommy.

"There's more, like how you always remember what kind of gifts people want and ah-" Evan pauses briefly something that happens sometimes whenever their breakup came into the conversation. "You were gone last Christmas, and I think she thought you were busy."

"Being Santa." Tommy huffs, shakes his head. "Better than what actually happened."

They've talked about it, how Tommy threw himself into work to cope with everything. It wasn't healthy, but he's working on it.

Evan nods his head and the hand on Tommy's waist squeezes.

"She still believes," Evan says. "And with the baby this year, I think she feels a little left out. So when they got into Christmas folklore at school, I think she latched onto the idea that you were Santa. It's why she's been so shy today."

"Okay," Tommy nods his head. He gets it. Believing in something when things were a little difficult could get you through hard times. His old man had told him the truth about Santa when he had been young, and Tommy didn't have that little bit of Christmas magic growing up.

"Do you want me to tell her I'm not?" Tommy asks, undure what they should do here. Evan shakes his head then and Tommy relaxes.

"Chimney and Maddie want to talk to her about it, they just didn't want you to think she was ignoring you-" Evan grins. "I think she's trying to be on the good list. I've never seen her room so clean."

Tommy huffs out a laugh at that. He had thought it was a little strange that Jee hadn't come running to them for a hug when they came, but he figured that she was just being quiet for her brother's sake.

"And what list are you on?" Tommy asks Evan, voice low as his eyes dart over Evan. The other man snorts out a laugh then before he pulls Tommy in for a kiss.

"I think I've been on the good list, Santa-" Evan whispers in Tommy's ear.

Tommy tries.

He really does, but he lasts about two seconds before he bursts into laughter. Evan joins him then, and it feels good, laughing with his boyfriend.

"Uncle Buck?" Tommy hears, and he sees the very person they were talking about coming into the kitchen. "Can we play cowboys and princesses and aliens?" She asks and Evan straightens away from Tommy and he gestures as if he's wearing a cowboy hat, tipping it to Jee and the girl giggles in return.

"I reckon the Princess Cowboys have a lot to do before Christmas Evan tomorrow." Evan says in an exxagerated southern accent.

Tommy is completely charmed by him.

"Are you too busy to play Uncle Tommy?" Jee asks and Tommy feels like his heart skips a beat.

That was the first time Jee has ever called him 'Uncle.'

"Yeah, that sounds fun. Can I be a Princess?" Tommy asks and follows Jee and Evan back into the living area.

He prefers Unlce to Santa, anyday.

[nachrosas]

CHRISTMAS SURPRISE | s.reid x reader

summary: in which spencer asks you an important question on christmas morning. pairing: spencer reid x reader content warnings: none, just pure fluff! word count: 849 a/n: night, night! posting this tonight because tomorrow i will be busy with work and christmas eve preparations! i had fun writing this one and i really hope you guys like it! feedback is always appreciated! also, my inbox is always open to chat (i love to talk and meet new people)! till the next one!

The pale light of Christmas morning flooded into the room through the slightly closed curtain gaps. The Christmas tree in the corner of the room blinked softly, each colorful twinkle reflecting off the delicate ornaments you had hung together weeks ago. The comforting scent of hot chocolate filled the air, mingling with the faint hint of cinnamon from the candles burning on the mantelpiece.

You were curled up on the sofa, a soft blanket wrapped around your shoulders, while Spencer was sitting next to you, legs crossed and a steaming mug between his hands. His glasses were a little crooked, and a messy lock of hair fell over his forehead, but he seemed oblivious, concentrating on something he was trying to hide behind his body.

“Is everything all right, Honey?” you asked, with a slight smile.

“It's just that you always look so beautiful in the morning,” he murmured with a shy smile, his eyes sparkling with something other than Christmas lights. Before you could reply, he bent down slightly to pick something up from the floor. “I have one last present for you.”

The way he held the small package wrapped in red and gold paper made your heart soar, but you tried to disguise your excitement, accepting the gift with slightly trembling hands.

“You'll like it, I think.” he said, looking away for a moment, but not before you noticed the blush that took over his cheeks.

You smiled suspiciously and began to undo the wrapping, just to tease him slowly. “Spencer Reid, what are you up to?”

He moved closer to you, trying to look relaxed. “Just… open it.” he mumbled, looking away again, but not without biting the corner of the underside.

When you removed the paper and opened the lid of the box, you found a small book, with a handmade cover and his unmistakable handwriting written in gold: Our Story. Your fingers gently brushed across the cover before opening the first page. A brief description accompanied by a photo of the first coffee you shared.

Each page was a journey through time — the first meeting, a lazy afternoon in the park, the trip that seemed to end in a huge disaster, but which turned out to be unforgettable. Some pages had little pressed flowers or funny notes next to the photos.

Your fingers slid along the edge of the last page of the book, curious to see how it would conclude the collection of memories that seemed so carefully crafted. When the page turned, the emptiness almost disconcerted you. There were no photos, just a single sentence written in his precise handwriting:

“Will you marry me?”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Your heart raced, and the words on the page began to jumble together, clouded by tears that you didn't even realize were there. When you finally managed to raise your eyes, Spencer was kneeling in front of you. The book still trembled slightly in his hands, but he looked like a statue of serenity. His eyes, however, betrayed his anxiety, shining with a mixture of nervousness and hope.

“I… didn't know how to say it perfectly.” he began, his voice low and charged with emotion. “So I thought the best way was to show you how much you mean to me, how every moment with you is a story I want to keep forever.”

He opened the small box he was holding, revealing a ring that glowed softly under the colored lights. “So, here I am. Do you want to be my next story? Will you marry me?”

You couldn't contain your emotional laughter, a sob escaping at the same time as a huge smile formed on your face. The book slipped from your hands onto the sofa as you leaned over to hug it, the words finally finding their way out.

“Yes.” you said, your voice laced with emotion. “Yes, Spencer, I want to marry you.”

His heart seemed to beat so loudly that you were sure he could hear it. Spencer was still kneeling in front of you, the ring gleaming on his trembling hand, and your eyes met his - hopeful, nervous, full of love. His fingers on yours were gentle, but you could feel the slight tremor as he made sure the ring fitted perfectly. 

When your eyes returned to him, Spencer was already getting up, pulling you close to him. “I still can't believe you said yes,” he murmured, a nervous smile forming on his lips.

“How could I say no?” you replied, before leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss was soft, sweet, and full of unspoken promises. The lights on the Christmas tree in front of you flashed, reflecting off the tears you hadn't yet wiped away and Spencer's eyes, which now shone as brightly as the ring on your hand.

When you separated, he leaned his forehead against yours, still holding your hands. “Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” he whispered, his voice as soft as a secret.

“Merry Christmas,” you replied, smiling, knowing that this was the beginning of the best present of all.

[aethon-recs]

This Week (x2) in Tomarrymort (7 – 19 December 2024)

Last week, the Tomarrymort tag on AO3 has officially surpassed 15,000 fics — congratulations to all the authors on their contributions! And the completed fic this week has also been super impressive, including a 152k longfic drop. Onto the updates!

Completed Fic:

Burning the Animal Skin by beetaker (E, 152k, complete)

Harry can't believe he Imprinted on Voldemort, his body apparently so desperate for a guide in navigating these strange Alphan waters that it latched onto the first one it could find. Never mind that this Alpha wants to kill him.

Machine Men by @izharmilgram (E, 5k, complete)

Harry discovers Lord Voldemort is transgender, and he's really fucking hung up about it.

Extenuating Circumstances by Origin_Of_Symmetry (M, 87k, complete)

“You’re really quite a delight, Harry. I can’t believe I went weeks thinking you were useless and boring.” Somehow, unwittingly, Harry finds himself engaged to Tom Riddle. He’s not entirely sure how that happened.

In the Shape of Fear, Erised by @rowena-rain (E, 16k, complete)

Harry sneaks into Lupin’s office late at night, determined to banish his recurring nightmares of a certain devastatingly handsome future Dark Lord once and for all. But things quickly spiral into depravity, and before he knows it, Harry is getting thoroughly railed by a boggart in the form of Diary Tom Riddle... Or is it?

*

Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic

Complete | Chapters 1 through 10 of Burning the Animal Skin by beetaker

Complete | Chapters 1 and 2 of Machine Men by @izharmilgram

Complete | Chapters 1 and 2 of Extenuating Circumstances by Origin_Of_Symmetry

Complete | Chapter 2 of In the Shape of Fear, Erised by @rowena-rain

One Shot | misconceiving by @satflesk22

One Shot | To be Watched by @cyandenial

One Shot | Ceaseless Appetence by Lytri 

One Shot | Bay Tine by @cindle-writes

One Shot | Head injuries and hot cocoa by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts

One Shot | Customer Service by lilacscented

*

Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics

Chapter 23 of What In Me Is Dark, Illumine by @telelli-writes

Chapter 12 of Strings of Fate by @dizzydreamer

Chapter 17 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3 

Chapter 14 of Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse

Chapter 10 of Stygian by @crowcrowcrowthing

Chapter 1 of conditional decay by @duplicitywrites

Chapter 11 of Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic

Chapter 10 of you speak of the devil (like he's not your friend) by @amuria

Chapter 17 of Hole in the Wall by @elddrmot

Chapters 138 and 139 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis 

Chapter 5 of Goodbye Evergreen by @v33r00 

Chapters 3 through 5 of the night is cold in the kingdom by @girl-with-goats

Chapter 20 of with eyes like these (who sees anybody else) by @cealesti

Chapter 4 of Solitude by TimaeusKosmou

Chapter 9 of Fractured Souls by moonyunoo

Chapter 27 of Time Stumbler by @wintumnly

Chapter 2 of Part Two - To Grow a Heart by @iseliljathedreamer

Chapters 22 and 23 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango

Chapter 1 of Asynchronous by beanclip 

Chapters 9 and 10  of we made universes out of bitten lips and broken hands by @boyneptunee

Chapter 19 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear

Chapter 12 of Venom or Valor by @lightningant

Chapter 2 of baby, turn the bright lights on by @ictyn

Chapter 2 of The Stubborn Hunger by @thefangirlibrarian

Chapter 9 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r

*

[hnslchw]

a nonsense christmas - LN4 x Reader

Summary: The holidays bring unexpected reunions, stirring up memories you thought were long behind you. As snow falls and emotions rises, you are reminded that sometimes the season isn't about what you planned—but about the surprises that lead to something more.

Warnings/Themes: slight angst, very warm fluff, second chance romance (?) (let me know if i missed any! English isn't my first language)

Word Count: 1.5k

Author's note: Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays here's an early gift for you. Hope you guys enjoy this one, something different from angst for once. I should really start writing for other people, but i dreamt of Lando last night 🤷‍♀️ anyways hugs and kisses to everyone.

You adjusted the strap of the overstuffed gift bag on your shoulder, balancing a smaller box in your other hand. The icy December air nipped at your nose, but the cold did little to dampen your excitement. You’d been looking forward to this for weeks—Pietra always went all out decorating for Christmas, and you couldn’t wait to see her.

The plan was simple: drop off the gifts, catch up with Pietra for a few minutes, and then head off to finish your errands. Even though you were flying out for a winter vacation tomorrow, you’d insisted on squeezing in time for this visit. Spending a bit of the holidays with one of your closest friends was too important to pass up.

The door swung open before you could knock.

“Hey, look who it is!” Max grinned, stepping aside to let you in. The warmth of the apartment hit you immediately, along with the faint hum of Christmas music and laughter from inside.

“Hey, Max!” you said brightly, already looking past him for Pietra. “Where’s P?”

“Right here!” Pietra called, appearing from around the corner. Her face lit up when she saw you, and she hurried over to wrap you in a tight hug.

“You didn’t have to come all this way,” she said, but the warmth in her tone betrayed her words.

“Of course, I did,” you replied with a grin. “I couldn’t miss seeing you before Christmas. And I brought presents!”

Max raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Presents? You’re making us look bad.”

“I doubt that,” you teased, handing Pietra the overstuffed bag.

But before you could say more, a familiar voice floated in from the living room. It was light, teasing, and completely unmistakable.

Lando.

Your breath caught in your throat as you glanced toward the couches. The living room was filled with Max’s friends—Will was sprawled across one side of the couch, laughing loudly at something Niran was saying. But sitting at the edge of the group, holding a beer and smiling softly, was Lando Norris.

You hadn’t seen him in months, not since the two of you had broken up.

Pietra must have noticed your sudden tension because she frowned slightly. “I should have warned you,” she whispered. “I didn’t think you’d run into him.”

You shook your head quickly, pasting on a polite smile. “It’s fine,” you said, though your pulse betrayed you.

As if on cue, Lando glanced over. His gaze met yours, his smile faltering for just a moment before he gave you a small, almost uncertain nod.

“Hey, come say hi!” Max urged, motioning toward the group.

You cleared your throat, taking a step back toward the door. “Actually, I didn’t realize you guys were here. I just wanted to drop off your gifts, but I really need to head out. I’ve got more stops to make, and I’m leaving early tomorrow for my trip.”

“Oh, come on,” Will called from the couch, grinning. “Stay a bit! It’s Christmas.”

You forced a light laugh. “I wish I could, but I’m on a tight schedule. Piet, can you help me grab something from my car? There’s a few more gifts I forgot to bring in.”

Pietra hesitated, clearly wanting to say something, but nodded. “Of course.”

-🎄-

The cold air outside was a welcome reprieve as you and Pietra reached your car. You opened the trunk, pulling out two small packages for Will and Niran and holding a third in your hands. Your grip tightened on the last one as your heart sank.

It was Lando's.

You’d bought it months ago, back when everything felt easy between you. The Cooking Mama game had been a nod to one of your inside jokes—about how he always insisted he’d make a better chef than you despite never stepping foot in a kitchen. You’d pictured him laughing when he opened it, teasing you about how thoughtful you were.

But life had a way of changing plans.

Pietra’s eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced at the package in your hands. “That’s for him, isn’t it?”

You sighed, nodding. “Yeah. I bought it before we broke up.”

“You should still give it to him,” she said gently.

You shook your head. “No. It doesn’t feel right.”

Pietra gave you a small, knowing smile. “Sometimes the right thing doesn’t feel easy. But it’s Christmas—you never know what might happen.”

You hesitated, weighing her words. But before you could decide, the apartment door opened, and Max stuck his head out.

“Hey, everything okay out here?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, passing one of the gifts to Pietra and keeping the others in your arms. “Just finishing up.”

After a round of goodbyes inside, you finally escaped back into the cold evening, your chest heavy with unresolved emotions. As you drove away, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d made the right choice in walking away.

-🎄-

Days later, the mountain air was crisp and cool as you zipped your jacket, your breath visible in the frosty air. The ski resort was picturesque, blanketed in snow and bustling with holiday travelers.

You hadn’t expected to run into anyone familiar here, which was why the sight of Lando standing by the lodge hit you like a shock of cold water.

He noticed you almost immediately, his face a mix of surprise and determination as he crossed the snowy path toward you.

“Hey,” he said softly, his cheeks pink from the cold—or maybe from nerves.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice cautious.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he admitted, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. “I thought you’d be halfway across the world by now.”

“Change of plans,” you said lightly. “I needed some quiet.”

He hesitated, his eyes scanning your face. “Can we talk?”

Your first instinct was to refuse, to keep walking. But something in his voice—earnest, almost hopeful—made you pause.

“Okay,” you said finally.

-🎄-

An hour later, you were sitting together by the fireplace in the lodge, a steaming mug of hot chocolate in your hands.

“I never got to thank you for the gift,” Lando said suddenly, pulling something out of his bag. It was the Cooking Mama game, the wrapping paper still torn at the edges.

You blinked, startled. “How—?”

“Pietra,” he said, smiling faintly. “She said you’d never forgive her, but she thought I needed to see it.”

You felt your cheeks heat, your heart pounding in your chest. “I bought it months ago,” you admitted. “Before everything… fell apart.”

Lando looked at the game, then back at you. “It’s perfect. But you always knew me better than anyone.”

You looked down at your hands, unsure of what to say.

“I miss you,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet but steady. “And I don’t just mean the jokes or the little things. I miss *us*. And if there’s even the smallest chance we can get that back…”

Your heart twisted as you met his gaze. “I don’t know, Lando. What if—”

“What if we get it right this time?” he interrupted gently.

For a long moment, you just stared at him, the warmth of the fire softening the edges of your hesitation.

“Okay,” you said finally, your lips curving into a small smile.

-🎄-

That night, Christmas Eve, the two of you sat together in your cabin, playing Cooking Mama and laughing like you hadn’t in months. Snow fell softly outside, blanketing the world in quiet peace, but inside, your heart felt lighter than it had in a long time.

It wasn’t the Christmas you had planned, but as Lando smiled at you, his hand brushing against yours, you realized it was exactly what you needed.

[alexafaie-asd]

What do you mean research and then do the work? With essays for university I just wrote the whole thing & handed in whatever I managed to come up with. Same as I did when I managed to do homework at school. All I learned at school was that I had to try harder to hand in my homework at all/on time. Never how to do it. I did well in exams so they knew I knew the subject fine.

You were meant to space it out? How would you know how much to space it out by? Like for uni we got given the essay title at the beginning of the semester & the essay was due in like 2 weeks before the end of the semester.

So I would start the essay a day or two before the essay was due in. Once I managed to start a week before but I spent the same amount of time on it. I wrote as much as I could, quoting as I went along and then had a last minute panic at an hour or so before hand in when I came in under the word count & then went over & didn't have enough time to get it to meet the 1500-1800 limit.

Never did figure out how you were meant to do it sooner. It was always due in several months time right up until I realised it was not & had to rush it. People talked about draft copies. I had one but that was just because we had to submit it printed with large margins & double spaced & I couldn't read it like that. For writing I used 1cm margins & single spacing & that was my draft. For final version I put it into double spaced, checked the margins were the required 2" & then had the additional panic of going over the page limit (why we needed a page & word limit I don't know).

I was still late handing in on multiple occasions (by minutes if not seconds as admin office set their clock fast to be jerks) so got lots of 40% marks (could only get that low passing grade if handed in late even if it would've scored more normally).

Still managed to get a 2:1 in the end though thanks to exams. It certainly wasn't thanks to my dissertation as I funnily enough didn't manage to finish it. I wish it had all been exams. They're way easier. You get a set time & just have to do what you can manage in that time. Easy peasy.

Never did figure out how to portion out the Not Now™️. There are only 2 times for me - Now & Not Now. That's as good as my body clock can manage.

Never figured out how to write a real draft & then rewrite it. Like how do you do that witjout being bored because you already wrote it? Like I got 60-80% on the essays I managed to get in on time without having to do extra boring bits. I never really understood why you'd bother forcing past the boring steps. Like its boring enough having to write the stuff down. I did the learning when I read it. The exams can prove that. Same way I never figured out how to revise. Like I learnt it once, why do I have to look at it again?

And then I kinda got bored at university and ended up reading about the history of corsetry instead. That was way more fun than having to work out how to do my dissertation.

So I taught my students during the first few weeks of class that for their paper, they needed to cite profusely. They needed to cite more than they thought they should cite. They needed to cite multiple times per paragraph. I told them that it was literally impossible for them to over-cite. I showed them an example of my own published papers. It was in the rubric.

At the end of the term, I graded their papers. Most of them did ok. Some of them only cited 2-3 sources even though their References section had 6 sources. And some of them... some of them didn't cite a single time in their entire paper. They had their citations in the References section, but didn't cite them in the paper even once.

Some people just do not follow directions. It's baffling.

And that doesn't even get into all of the APA style errors. Those I can forgive because citation styles are confusing. Citing enough and citing correctly are two separate parts on my rubric to account for this fact, actually.

BUT - it just gives me data for how to teach this even better next semester. I don't have any way to require them to use a citation manager, but the students who used one did MUCH better than those who didn't.

[midnightswels]

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES HEADCANONS

a/n: was thinking about being roommates with ellie and realised i NEED to write it down [recent work]

tw: i mean, it's poor fluff, mention of drinking, making out

roommate!ellie who is looking for a new roommate after her last one moved out to live with their partner. dina, ever the matchmaker, gives ellie your number, telling her you're perfect for the spot since you're laid-back, responsible, and (most importantly) not annoying.

roommate!ellie who rolled her eyes when dina mention you're into girls. "why does this matter?", she'd ask in an irritated tone but secretly thinks it’s awesome—less chance of awkwardness and more chance for shared queer culture jokes (and subtle flirting, though she'd never admit it).

roommate!ellie who was very nervous when dina invited you to a movie night together for you to meet her before moving in. she keeps overthinking—“what if she hates my movie choices? what if she thinks I’m a slob?” she even cleans the living room twice, just in case.

roommate!ellie who tries to act chill during the movie night but ends up awkwardly offering you snacks every five minutes to fill the silence ignoring dina's chuckles. when you compliment her vintage movie poster collection, she stumbles over her words and just mumbles, “yeah, uh, I guess they’re cool.”

roommate!ellie who turns out to be the perfect mix of chill and chaotic. she’ll let you borrow her clothes, but only if you ask first, because “boundaries, dude.” however, she’s also the type to borrow your hoodie without asking, especially if it smells like your perfume but she says it's just comfy.

roommate!ellie who can’t stop herself from smiling when she sees you curled up on the couch with her t-shirt with band picture on, binge-watching something ridiculous. she teases you about stealing her clothes but secretly loves it.

roommate!ellie who has an entire bookshelf filled with graphic novels, old paperbacks, and her sketchbooks when you have one with books and diaries. she’s shy about showing you her sketches at first, but eventually, she leaves one out for you to find—a drawing of you laughing during one of your late-night conversations. same about you: at first you refused to let her read your annotated copy of your favourite childhood book but then lent her it.

roommate!ellie who blasts her guitar late at night, apologizes profusely for it, then invites you to listen instead of going to bed. she’ll sheepishly admit she’s working on a new song but won’t look you in the eye when you compliment her voice.

roommate!ellie who invites you to play video games with her but always lets you win because she loves hearing you gloat about how “you’re the superior gamer.”

roommate!ellie who shake her head when dina and jessie hinting that she probably likes you. "that would be too cliché," she would say.

roommate!ellie who insists on cooking dinner together once a week. it’s usually something simple like pasta or tacos, but she’ll make it competitive, declaring herself “the gordon ramsay of roommates” when her side of the meal turns out better.

roommate!ellie who came up with the idea of making fridays your guys unofficial roommate day. she decides to surprise you one friday with homemade pizza, her guitar, and a makeshift dance floor in the living room. she twirls you around, singing the song off-key but with so much enthusiasm that you can’t help but laugh.

roommate!ellie who always finds little excuses to be near you—helping you hang posters, sitting close during movie nights, or brushing your hair out of your face when you’re deep in thought. when you call her out on it, she just shrugs and smirks. “what? i’m a tactile person.”

roommate!ellie who secretly learns how to bake your favorite dessert just to surprise you on a bad day. she’ll act casual about it, saying, “It’s no big deal,” but blushed when you tell her it’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you and got embarrassed when you started crying with happiness.

roommate!ellie who gets oddly protective of you when you’re upset. she’ll sit with you on the couch, offering her shoulder and awkwardly patting your back, mumbling, “i’m not great at this comforting stuff, but I’m here, okay?”

roommate!ellie who has a polaroid camera that she uses to document your time as roommates. she has a growing collection of photos: you holding her cat, you mid-laugh during a late-night chat, you asleep on the couch with her hoodie on. one night, you stumble upon a stack of these pictures and realize how much she’s been cherishing these little moments but was too embarrassed to tell her you saw it.

dina who is the ultimate instigator, constantly pointing out how much time you and ellie spend together. “roommates? sure. more like a domestic partnership.” ellie always rolls her eyes but can’t help the blush creeping up her neck.

dina and jessie who smirked when you both show up late to group hangouts but actually set you up for couple-y questions during truth or dare. “ellie, would you ever kiss your roommate?” jesse asks with a mischievous grin, and ellie glares at him, muttering, “you’re the worst.”

roommate!ellie who thought a lot after that night (thanks to jessie and dina) and almost confesses during a deep, late-night conversation. you’re lying on the couch, sharing a blanket, and she says, “I feel like... I don’t know. I don’t deserve how good you are to me.” you tease her about being sappy, and she loses her nerve.

roommate!ellie who spends the rest of the night sulking, when she saw one of your friends flirts with you during a party. when you finally ask what’s wrong, she blurts out, “I don’t want to watch someone else get what I—what we could have.”

roommate!ellie who offers some wine to relax after a stressful week full of exams.

roommate!ellie with whom you playing cards while being tipsy and who leans in to grab the deck from your hands, and you both freeze when her face is way too close to yours.

roommate!ellie who stares at you, her lips parting slightly, and before you can think, you lean in and kiss her. It’s short and sweet, but it lingers in the air like an unspoken promise.

roommate!ellie who's eyes widen, and she blurts out, “was that...?” while looking away, but you were too fed up about it so cut her off, laughing nervously. “yeah. It was.” after a moment, she smirks, “wanna do it again?” and you simply nodded kissing her one more time — now passionately, like your life depends on it.

roommate!ellie who ends up making out with you next 20 minutes before you two fall asleep

roommate!ellie who wakes up the next morning with her head still spinning from the kiss(es) you shared the night before. She finds you in the kitchen, making coffee like nothing happened. ellie nervously clears her throat, scratching the back of her neck. “so, uh... about last night—”

you cut her off again, smirking over your mug. “what about it?”

ellie shifts awkwardly before finally blurting out, “I liked it. like... a lot. and I don’t want it to just be a one-time thing.”

you step closer, setting your coffee down and tilting your head at her. “good. because I liked it too.”

[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

CoD girlies (gender neutral), this one is for you. (but also Sam Wilson coded. anyway)

So. My mom was flying home and she had a stopover in The Big Fucking Airport in Chicago, I don't remember the name right now. The point is, she gets Chicago Pizza for me. And cheesecake.

And on the flight home, she is sat next to a military boy (boy is her designation, not mine. She's three weeks away from seventy, this is not a helpful description)

And she starts talking to him, because that is who my mother is, she finds out that he's coming home for the holidays and then he's getting stationed and such-and-such base.

At some point, because of who she is as a person, and because she had spent nearly two months Momming and Grandmothering as hard as she could and had not yet turned it down, she asks this young man if he is hungry. Is he hungry? Does he need food? She has pizza. Would he like the pizza? Oh, no, no it's okay! Take the pizza! it's fine!

He then reveals that this is the first food he's had all day (it's like 4pm) and my mom :0 and finds more food to give him. As they deplane she gives him $20 which is the last of her American cash. This is the end of the story

My mom. is so, so close to being the meddling matchmaker the sitcoms of my youth promised me she would be, and she drops the ball EVERY. TIME.

However, the point is now I can't stop thinking about this with the CoD boys. Maybe it's not even a few weeks before Christmas, maybe it's the day of due to bad luck or whatever idk idk doesn't matter

Honestly Ghost is objectively the funniest just because he'd be about two feet taller than her and she would absolutely not be intimidated by him. At some point she would share stories from before she retired and would say something about how she "had to take down a big boy like you once" and that "I told him it was a good thing my daughters weren't in town". I'm sorry he would be so fucking endeared by this. And he'd track her down somehow to say thanks or to pay her back and then obviously he gets invited in for baked goods and falls in love with you (me)

Gaz is so effortlessly charming. He asks if he can Venmo her money, and she has no idea what that is. Paypal? She doesn't have one. Her daughter does that, she's not very tech savvy, you know? She goes off on a tangent about having to use a typewriter to write papers in college. Gaz is undeterred--could he send it to this daughter and she could pass it on? Then again, maybe this is a teenager, and him having the number of a random teenager feels weird. He's out of time, they're deplaning. She's hard to keep track of, a short woman, but he's, well, Gaz. He spots her making for a car at the curb, the driver's door opening, and presumably the daughter getting out. Gaz makes a beeline for them. After a moment of confusion, you get introduced to Gaz, who tries to explain the situation while you're being yelled at by airport security and honked at by other drivers. It's not ideal--but he gets your number. He waits maybe an hour before texting you.

Soap is the hardest. My mom struggles so much with British accents so I think she'd get about half of what he says to start with. He'd call her bonnie (cos he's a charmer like that) and she wouldn't know what it means. I think she shows him a LOT of grandkid pictures and he's fully endeared by how she knows her oldest grandchild likes linkin park and slipknot while having no clue who they are. Soap is the one who tracks her to the pickup area and books it to your car so neither of you have to lift her luggage ("your mam said you have shoulder troubles, cannae let you make it worse, aye?"). Something something your hands brush as you reach for the same piece of luggage

Price would be a little awkward until she weasels his age out of him and then she realizes: ah! baby age! boy! (man's 40 max). I think he'd be better at getting her to talk, she's absolutely whipping out her phone (complaining about how it's old and doesn't have enough memory) and showing him pictures of the grandkids and a rundown of their hobbies and trash talking my sister's in-laws just a little. I can imagine her realizing he doesn't have a ride and volunteering you to drop him off at a hotel. You pull up to the curb and are like. Who the fuck is this man towering over my mother. He winds up in the front seat because his legs are longer and he turns so he can keep talking to your mom which is pretty sweet to be honest. You drop him off and it's not til you finally get home and start hauling luggage out that you realize he's left something in your car, maybe his phone or a watch, something important. And you heave a big sigh, haul all the luggage in, hug you mom, and trudge back to the car to drive back to the hotel. Or maybe your mom tells you to return it tomorrow, it's too late and it's raining. And the next afternoon she sends you to the hotel with fresh baked goods for him. He asks you out to lunch and suddenly it's 5 hours later and your mom thinks you're dead in a ditch somewhere because you haven't answered her texts. It's because you're too busy flirting.

[emchante]

brother’s best friend!carlos who switches your bras with ones that are less smooth and make your nipples stiffen when you use them……. ohh the way you write that lactation kink has me on the ground. he’d totally get a kick out of seeing you embarrassed in public. leaving you needy and then watching your tits leaking in public and telling you something along the lines of “you used to be such a good girl… how come you get so needy in public now? look at you getting your pretty little shirt all wet. such a slut…”

- 🍓

GODD 🍓 YOU CAME BACK WITH A BANGER!! this has me 😵‍💫😵‍💫

18+ content below!

this is definitely something that he does. he goes out of his way to buy rougher bras, ones that’ll cause more friction to your nipples. and one day when he’s visiting you(r brother), he waits for you to leave the room before his mission starts. he sneaks in, going in each drawer to see where your bras reside. he finds your panties before, and his cock stiffens at some of the pretty lacy panties he hasn’t seen you wear before.

when he gets to the drawer with your bras, he opens up his backpack. he grabs the new sets he bought you, slipping them into the drawer before taking your own ones out, and stuffing them into his backpack. he stalks back out of the room, and thankfully, you don’t catch him.

over the next few weeks, he watches as you get more fidgety. you’re constantly adjusting your cups, a confused look painted on your face as you try to fix yourself. other times, he’s watching as you squeeze your thighs together, trying to hold back the moans from escaping as your nipples rub against the fabric of you bra in a different way than usual..

the big kick finally comes when you’re out together one day, shopping at the local mall. you take carlos into a clothing shop, lifting up tons of blouses, shirts, jumpers— you name it, you found something you wanted. carlos urges you to take them into a fitting room, trying on the clothes and he’ll help you out with deciding.

he’s sitting outside of the small room you’re in when he hears a whine escape your lips, and he perks up. “all good, cariño?” he asks, tapping lightly on the door. he hears you gasp, hesitating before you open the door slightly as you urge him in.

carlos enters the room, shutting the door behind him before he finally sets his eyes on you. your cheeks are bright red, tears welling at the corner of your eyes as you hold your swelling tits. carlos notices you’re wearing one of the blouses you liked, but.. but you’re leaking. you leaked through a shirt that wasn’t even yours.

carlos tuts, walking closer as he cups your swell tits in his large hands, giving them a squeeze as a gasp escapes your throat. your nipples leak, the stain on the not-yet bought shirt growing. you shake your head, tears falling now as you beg him to stop.

“c-carlos, no! please, it’s not mines. let me take it off first!”

carlos’ smile curves into a smirk, squeezing your tits harder as he shakes his head. “where are your manners, princesa? you used to be such a good girl, so controlled. and now this?” he lets out lowly, emphasising his last word as he squishes your tits together, a moan escaping from your lips. “so needy, so desperate. can’t even stop yourself from leaking over clothes that aren’t yours,” he continues, moving his thumbs to rub over the wet patches.

your legs buck at his words and you don’t know what overcomes you, but suddenly you’re pushing him back against the wall which surprises you both. his eyes are wide in shock as are yours, but you don’t even have time to process it before you’re begging to rut your needy cunt over his bent leg.

“please, please carlos. i-i don’t know what’s wrong, but i need you. please help me, i’m begging you,” you sob, continuing to hump his leg like a dog in heat.

carlos licks his lips, the feel over your wet cunt against his leg, the sight of your tear stained face and the feel of you’re swollen, wet tits against his chest. how could he deny his girl?

[evolnoomym]

liquid smooth 🤍 Pt.2

Mom’s Best-friend!Joel Miller x f!reader

General Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist | Pt.1 🩶 | Support me |

Summary: Life with Joel is all you could have hoped for and with the new reality setting in, you and Joel have some interesting ideas.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 2.9k

Authors note: okayyyyy so this was first and foremost a idea for Wifeys @joelmillerisapunk “PPCU Body Worshipping Writing Challenge”

I choose for myself Joel Miller + cock&balls worshipping and then i couldn’t write it down for months. Luckily inspiration found me and now it can be looked at as a continuation of “Washing Machine Heart 🩶”

I hope y’all enjoy 🤍

Warnings: no y/n, F!OC, Moon as always, lotsssss of cum, tempering with food/tea I guess(?), p-in-v action, no protection, creammmmm pies, somnophilia, oral m receiving, finding enjoyment in tears, Daddy Kink, pervy Joel, Sub / Dom vibes, switching roles, biting, overstimulation, cock & ball rings, orgasm denial, cum shot, cum eating, aftercare…If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Shoutout to @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune for the dividers 🤍

And shoutout to @joelmillerisapunk & @sunshineispunk for proofreading 😇

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. 😂🫶🏻

After you had been kicked out of your Moms house and moved in with Joel, everything started to settle down. Neither of you had heard from your Mom in weeks and you hadn’t tried reaching out to her either.

You no longer had to live with her or that toxic energy she was made of.

Joel and you were living on cloud nine, fucking anywhere you could at all times. At this point it was impossible that there was a surface left in his house that hasn’t been defiled. 

He’s fucked you in the shower, pushed you against the tiles with ferocious force and pounded you til tears were streaming down your cheeks. He’s slipped inside you from behind in the early mornings when you were barely awake, you had allowed him to do this in a prior discussion and in the end it wasn’t unpleasant waking up to his hips snapping against your own and those rough fingers flicking your clit. 

One morning he had bent you over the kitchen counter, pulled the shirt you stole from him up and over your naked ass before swiftly pushing into your wet pussy. He’d taken you apart right by the open kitchen window and you’d just hoped that the nice elderly lady next door didn’t hear you screaming. 

Another time he’d stopped you from drinking your morning chai tea by tugging your unoccupied hand down to his growing bulge, he nuzzled himself into your neck and whimpered which was music to your ears. Of course you gave into his needs and got down on your knees dutifully, to serve him just the way he liked. You had taken his length down your throat so willingly and swallowed every last drop like a greedy little slut, desperate for his cum. 

Joel came up with a pretty good idea to surprise you. He watched you each morning, pouring a splash of milk into your chai tea and then sipping it while sitting out on the back porch.

It was one of those days where Joel would be up before you and as always he stood in the kitchen prepping your tee. Since he had gotten used to your warm and waiting mouth draining his full balls each morning, his cock obviously still got hard, even when you weren’t there to take care of him. 

Normally he might’ve sneaked into the bedroom, peeled the blanket back and pushed his way into your tight pussy till he filled you up completely. But this time his plan looked different. He pushed his shorts down until his engorged cock bobbed up against his lower belly, one of his enormous hands wrapped itself around his member and he started jerking off frantically. 

“Yeahhhh…babygirl will love Daddy’s milk in her tea, ughhh” he mumbled and groaned while holding his leaking slit right over the beautiful cup you had bought. 

Not long after a generous load splashed into the cup, Joel, who was still buzzing, then topped it off with some normal milk. 

By the time you woke up, came down the stairs and sat down at the table to enjoy breakfast, Joel had cleaned up and put on his poker face. He joined you at the table, pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as he had placed your drink of choice down in front of you. 

You thanked him before you brought the cup up to your mouth and took a sip. It tasted good, but there was something else to the taste. A slight but welcomed bitterness. 

“Daddy, it tastes good, but did you put something else in there?” You drowsily asked him. 

Joel chuckled at that “Hmmm dunno,” he pretended to think it over, tapping at his chin with his pointer finger, before he continued “well Daddy might’ve put in some special creamer.” He winked at you. 

“Since when do we have creamers ?” You sounded genuinely curious.

“Oh babygirl, you are so cute when ya just woke up…” he shook his head lightly before leaning in. With his lips at your ear he whispered “it’s Daddy’s special Milk.” 

You had let out a stunned gasp and pushed him away by his shoulder, but your face didn’t display anger, no, your cheeks were flushed and you had a dazed smile adorning your face. 

“Oh daddy, you are so naughty,” you mused in a sickly sweet voice. 

“But ya like that, don’t you, Moon, love?” He knew exactly the effect his deep rumbling morning voice had on you. 

“Of course I do, I can never get enough of you.” Yeah. He had you wrapped around one of his beefy fingers. 

After some time, you had shyly suggested trying out to switch the existing roles, till now Joel always took the leading dominant position and you did whatever he wanted. So you didn’t expect him to be so open to giving you the power over him but Joel was no little boy that couldn’t be shown some new tricks, no, he was on board immediately. 

A couple days later, he found himself naked from the hips down, sitting on one of the dining chairs with his arms crossed behind his back. 

“You’re really not gonna tell me what my surprise is, baby?” He tried to manipulate you by sounding extra sweet but you wouldn’t budge. 

“No, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough what I have in mind for you,” you send him a flirtatious wink and your secretive behavior only encourages his curiosity further. 

Of course as soon as Joel grants you the power over him you take full advantage of it, not only is he supposed to stay seated and refrain from touching you. No. You had additionally put on a matching black lace set. Joel could see your perky nipples calling to him from under the delicate fabric and, apart from tiny black flowers adorning the swell of your breasts, the bra was see-through. 

When you turn away from him, he can't stop groaning at the sight of your perfect ass cheeks, the ones he loves to smack, bite, kiss and lick at any chance, split by the matching black lace thong. 

You ripped him out of his horny thoughts when you got down on all fours. 

“Remember the rules: no touching and you don’t come until I allow you.” You remind him while slowly crawling between his wide spread thighs. 

“Yes, baby, I remember the rules,” he sounds dazed and he is, you kneeling between his legs looking so stunning, was making it hard for him to think. 

“Hmm, that’s a good boy,” you reply and Joel’s cock jumps in excitement, he likes you calling him that wayyyyy more than expected. 

“Fuckkk, Moon, what will ya do to me?” His pitch is getting more whiny and desperate with each word.

“Don’t worry, babyboy, I’ll take good care of you,” you nod reassuringly at him while placing your soft, warm hands upon his knees and stroke all the way up to the crease where his leg meets his hip. Those small yet deliberate touches make more blood rush right to his groin. He’s already pulsing and you haven’t even done much. 

Joel is closer and closer to losing his composure the more you stroke his thighs. You keep almost touching him where he is aching the most, but you stop right before you are about to close your fingers around his cock.

“God, pleaseee, Moon-Love I need ya to touch me…” there’s a strain to his voice and he begins wriggling his hips in hopes your hand might slip and touch him but instead you pull away instantly.

Joel sighs in annoyance, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back to rest between his shoulder blades.

“Mooni, don’t ya think this is enough teasin’ for your old man?” 

“Mhh, no, I think you can handle a little more. You wanna be a good boy for me, don’t you?” 

You clearly want to ruin him completely.

“Hnghh, I do but…-“ He doesn’t get further than that because you decide you’ve had enough of his petulant behavior. All he feels is your teeth sinking into the meat of his thigh.

His head snaps back to look at you in confusion “Ouch, what was that for?” 

“Had enough of your constant whining, besides don’t you dare pretend to be shocked you’ve done the same to me,” you tilt your head,“remember?” 

How could he not? All those hours he spent sucking and biting bruises into your squishy thighs, those were some of his favorite moments.

“‘course I do darlin’…love spending hours with my head between your legs, so close to that pretty pussy.” He fucking winks at you. 

You just roll your eyes and lick soothingly over where you had bitten him. 

“You are such a smooth talker, aren’t you. Think I’m gonna give in if you butter me up?” 

“Well….will ya give in?” Cheeky fucker. 

“Shut up Joel,” you put your hand on his weeping cock and within a split second he breaks the touching rule.

You retract your hand and get up from kneeling. “Hmmm, I gave you enough warnings. You are clearly not a good boy Joel, so we are doing this the hard way.” 

“No, baby, I’m sorry…I didn’t expect it. Pleaseee don’t stop,” there he goes whining again.

You pay no attention to his words, you pick up the secretive little bag and walk behind him.

“Put your hands back where they are supposed to stay,” Joel complies silently.

You pull out a black rope and start looping it around his wrists in a way you know he could easily get out of. 

To your surprise, he doesn’t protest to being tied up. Good choice. It would only get him into more trouble. 

Once you’re done, you step around to be in front of him again, still holding the bag.

“More surprises?” 

“Yeah, I’m not sure how you’ll like it though but there’s no other option… Bad boys need to learn their lesson.” You pull out what looks like two black silicone rings. He knows what he’s in for. You had talked to him about possible practices you two could try out, cock and ball rings were discussed, amongst other things, but you didn’t warn him when it would happen.

You put the dominant role aside momentarily, “Are you okay with this, daddy? I promise I’m gonna be careful to not hurt the goods.” You smile at him but he doesn’t need much more convincing, he knows he can trust you with his treasure. 

“Go ahead, baby, doin’ such a good job for Daddy,” that’s all you need to hear before kneeling once more in front of him. 

You grasp his cock at the base and tilt his member down before spitting on him, quickly your hand slides up and down to spread his pre-cum and your spit all over. 

The first ring is for his juicy, swollen balls. You slip it over his testicles with ease.

“Is it too tight?” You ask.

“Ahh..no- no, sweetheart, it’s okay. New but nothin I can’t handle.” He husks. 

And so the second ring gets slipped down his impressive length. 

He lets out a hiss, takes a few deep breaths and tries to collect himself. You can see beads of sweat running down the column of his throat and the urge to lick them takes over you. You get up fast, holding yourself upright by placing your hands on his thighs. You lean in, open your mouth and let your tongue lick a bold stripe across his racing jugular. His musky, unique taste causes a stirring in your lower belly that you could suppress till now. 

While he adjusts to the rings around his groin, you happily lap up his sweat. 

“Moon?” He panted. 

You stop and stare at him with expecting eyes, waiting for the sign.

He nods and with that, you get back on the ground. You know your knees will definitely be bruised tomorrow but it’s totally worth it. 

For a second you just take in the visual of his manhood, dripping with precum and his cock is twitching ever so often. 

Tentatively, you try to wrap your fingers around him, not adding pressure and yet this is enough to make him moan.

“Baby, ‘m so hard…please make me cum. Please, baby, I’ll do whatever ya want.” 

His eyes are wide and he’s frantically nodding. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, babyboy I got you,” you amp up the grip around his base and you lean closer to spit directly onto his slit.

Unexpectedly, you pick up the speed and your hand makes wet squelching noises as you bring him closer to finishing. 

“Ah..ah…ahhh baby, fuck, don’t stop I’m so close,” Joel is closing his eyes and preparing to let go when you rip your hand away.

“Wh..why did ya stop?” You just laugh at him.

“I told you, you don’t get to cum unless i allow it,” you smirk cruelly. 

When you touch him this time, you use both hands and twist them while jerking him. 

“Ughh Moon, so good baby, you’re being so good for me..” you are marveling at the way Joel becomes a whimpering mess, the man that usually does this to you is now putty in your hands.

You still have some tricks up your sleeve, till now his balls were left untouched but just then your left hand slips down to his heavy sack.

You squeeze and rub them lovingly. Joel on the other side is floating away, he is beyond overstimulated and his balls feel as if they will burst any moment. 

Then you withdraw your hands again.

“No..no..no, baby, no don’t do this,” he is pleading with you “please touch him, I need to cum Moon.” He begs  you with urgency.

“Shh, it’s okay, daddy, you get to finish now.” You were being honest, his warm cum is what you wanted most. It was fun playing with him but now you were satisfied.

Your soft, slippery lips begin littering kisses to his glistening tip. You did that from top to bottom, even giving one to each of his swollen balls. 

“That’s a good girl, give kisses to Daddy’s balls, they produce all the milk I’ll put in your tee and in your cunt.” He laughs and you can’t help but smile.

“Thank you daddy for giving so much of your milk, making sure my belly is filled.” you whisper in between kissing his cock.

“Use your tongue please, baby” He doesn’t need to ask twice before you lick a stripe from his balls to his head. You flick the pointy tip of your tongue at his slit, besides his own juices, your drool was making this ordeal more sloppy and messy with each second. 

In Joel’s mind, the following 30 seconds were nonexistent. He’s sure he must have momentarily passed out or went to some kind of higher headspace. You have to tell him afterwards that in that moment you had let his throbbing length enter your mouth. And he knows that you are not lying because when he regained consciousness, that was the image that greeted him. Your plump lips wrapped around his cock. 

You got him about halfway down your throat before reaching your limit. 

“Jesus Christ, baby, ya gonna kill me,” Joel couldn’t even hear himself properly, he sounded miles away to himself.

Something happens that you could have never predicted: a tear slides down his handsome face and lands on his grey shirt, leaving a dark spot behind. 

A sick part of you wants more of that, so you pull your mouth off him entirely and instead you lick and kiss the sensitive spot at the underside of his dick. You researched before and found out that it’s called “Frenulum”. It supposedly drives men crazy so you wanted to try it out and Joel’s reaction was priceless.

He is so tense, biting his lip, scrunching his eyebrows and those gorgeous thighs of his are twitching, indicating that he must be practically seconds away from coming. 

To give him the final push, you stop licking him and instead place the inside of your palm flat over his leaking slit, rubbing that hand in small and quick circles. 

“Fu..fu..fuck, I..I’m comin’ Moon,” he huffs with his remaining energy. 

All the tension inside Joel snaps and, with a loud yelp, he comes, hot thick white ropes of cum land on your face, chest and ultimately on himself. Joel’s entire body twitches as the rewarding feeling of finally being able to release pressure washes over him. 

The room was silent except for Joel attempting to catch his breath and you have to make it hard for him. You may appear innocent but to Joel you are a little sadistic devil, you just have to swipe some of his cum off your tits before sucking your cum coated fingers into your mouth. 

All while keeping eye contact with him. 

“Hmmm, thank you, daddy, tastes delicious,” you smack your lips together satisfied.

You perk up suddenly. “Shit, sorry Joel, let me take off the rings.” 

You try your hardest to touch his cock and balls carefully. Slowly, you release his sack and then remove the ring that sat at the base of his cock.

You move on to untie him from the chair and then help Joel to the bathroom so he can take a relaxing bath with you.

“Come on, honey, we’ll take a nice bubble bath and then go to bed. How does that sound?” You ask him on the way up the stairs.

“Sounds fuckin’ perfect to me darlin’ “ he mumbles in response. 

Lastly, he adds a soft spoken, “I love you Moon,” 

People that might be interested: @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @toxicanonymity @littlemisspascal @thundermartini @604to647 @magpiepills @mountainsandmayhem @clawdee @alinacecee @josephquinnswhore @sanarsi @papurgaatika @ovaryacted @pedge-page @gutsby 🤍

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[winchesterwild78]

Merry Christmas, Dean Winchester 

Master List

Characters:  Jensen x Reader, Dean Winchester x OC Wife, Jared, Eric Kripke, Robert Singer, Sam x Eileen 

Warnings: Fluff, Smut!, more fluff

A/N: Final Story in my holiday fics. I hope you’ve enjoyed this short series. I was really excited about it. All work is my own, please don’t take it. Reblogs and likes are welcomed. 

This is a work of FICTION. Jensen is divorced from Danneel. If you don’t like that, then don’t read it. Sorry, but shit happens in life, and this was a story that popped in my head to round out this Christmas Series. 

This one is a combination of Jensen and him stepping back into the role of Dean one last time. I hope you enjoy it. 

Written fast and edited fast, please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

Jensen sat in his office on the phone with Eric Kripke and Robert Singer. I knew what the call was about. They wanted him to step back into the role of Dean Winchester one last time. 

Jensen had previously said he wanted to do at least one more season, maybe not 22 episodes, but at least a couple more. 

Jensen had always felt Dean deserved better. I always felt he and Dean deserved better. 

I had been a fan of his and the show well before we got married. After his divorce from Danneel we met and things progressed between us. We got married and I’ve been by his side ever since. 

Jensen came out of the office with a smirk on his face. “What’s so funny?” I asked him as he snaked his arms around my waist. 

“I think we are finally moving forward. I’m going to help write the season and direct a few episodes.” I smiled, turned and put my arms around his neck. 

I kissed his lips, “I’m so happy for you baby. You’re going to do amazing.” 

“Yeah, now we have to see how to get some of our cast back. I’m sure Jared will be on board, not sure how we can write Misha back in, but we will figure it out.” 

“I know the fans are going to go wild.” He nodded. “Yeah. I can’t wait. Eric is planning on dropping hints on Instagram once we get the green light.” 

I smiled because I knew how the fans were going to react. 

I touched his face, “Does that mean you need to practice the “Dean” voice again?” I giggled. Jensen smirked, placed his lips close to mine and in his best Dean Winchester voice he said, “You better believe it sweetheart.” 

Then he walked away. I gasped, “You’re such a tease.” He turned and grinned, crossed the room and grabbed me by the waist and placed his lips on mine. 

I moaned and melted in his arms. Jensen smiled against my lips, “Still got it.” He winked as he pulled away. 

I playfully rolled my eyes, “Jensen Ross, you better get back here and give your wife a proper kiss.” He smirked and walked up to me, grabbed me by my waist and placed his lips softly on mine. His plump lips pressed against mine as his tongue darted out and licked my lips. I parted them and he deepened the kiss. His hands moved to my hair and pulled me further into him. Our tongues moving in tandem with a familiarity. 

When he pulled away our breathing was fast and shallow. My lips were on fire. Jensen rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip, “Damn baby. I’m glad I came back.” “Me too.” 

Over the next few weeks Jensen worked with Eric and Robert to secure cast and writers for the show. Jared was on board and so was Misha. The other cast members were willing to come back for an episode or two, so Jensen worked with the writers to bring people back or figure out some way to make it all make sense. 

The season was going to be 10 episodes long and the final episode was going to be a Christmas episode. The consensus online was Dean and Sam deserved a normal holiday if they got nothing else. Jensen agreed. The decision was made to leave Sam and Eileen together, married and having a son, but the writers and Jensen wanted Dean to survive and have someone too. 

Jensen spent the next few months helping write and rewrite episodes. Then came time for shooting. Off to Toronto we all went. Jensen and I went ahead and found a place big enough for his kids to come. Jared and Gen moved up temporarily with the kids. They still had their place and just found it easier to live there than for Jared to fly back and forth. 

The first day of filming arrived and Jensen was visibly nervous. All the way to set his leg bounced in the car. I placed my hand on his leg, “Hey, you’re going to do great. It’s like riding a bike. Dean is part of you and will always be. You know how to play him, and you’re finally getting to give him the proper send off he deserved.”

Jensen leaned over and kissed me, “Thank you, sweetheart.” I smiled and nodded. 

When we arrived at set Jensen got out of the car and we walked hand in hand to his trailer. 

Hanging in his closet was Dean’s costume and his boots. Jensen smirked and took a deep breath. I touched his arm, “You’ve got this baby. I’ll be here every step of the way.” 

Jensen changed and stepped into the living room and we were transported a few years back. He was Dean Winchester and never looked so good.

He went to get his hair and makeup done while I waited in the trailer. When he came back it was time for him to go to the set. “You ready baby?” I asked and he nodded. 

The first few episodes were great. I couldn’t wait to see how fans reacted to the show. Eric, Jensen and Jared had all dropped hints online and the fans were rabid about it. Not to mention the carefully leaked photos of Jared and Jensen on set in their “Sam and Dean costumes”. 

Eric wanted all the episodes filmed before they were released and we were approaching the final few. The hunt was on for a wife for Dean. The idea was to do a slight time jump and have her and Dean get married with flashes of the wedding during an episode. 

The search for an actress who was believable for Dean was proving difficult on such a short notice. So Eric and Robert cooked up an idea. 

I sat in the trailer reading when there was a knock on the door. Opening it I saw Eric and Robert. “Hey guys. What’s up?” Eric stepped in first, “We have an idea. We want you to play Dean’s wife.” I laughed, “You can’t be serious. I’ve never acted.” “We are serious. You and Jensen have incredible chemistry and that will work well for the show. I’m sure you could do it.” 

“How about I try. If I’m crap we will find someone else.” They were excited and nodded. I was handed a script and told to be in wardrobe in 2 hours. 

I was incredibly nervous. Jensen came in and looked exhausted. He noticed how nervous I was. “Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong baby?” “Um, they found the person to be Dean’s love interest.” 

Jensen looked confused, “Okay, who is she? Why are you so nervous about it?” I took a deep breath, “it’s me.” I said softly. 

Jensen’s smile grew until it reached his eyes. “Really?! I get to act alongside you as my love?” I nodded “I’m not an actress, Jensen. I’m so nervous.” 

He cupped my face, “Baby it’s going to be fine. It will be just like any normal day we’re together. You’ll just have to call me Dean. I see we have a love scene coming up too.” He wiggled his eyebrows, “Now that’s going to be so much fun.” 

I blushed. “Should we run some lines or practice?” “Sure darlin’, let’s go into the bedroom and practice that spicy scene. You know, just so we can get it right.” 

I laughed as he chuckled, taking my hand and he led me to the bedroom. 

We made love over and over again. Each moment made me feel less anxious. 

There was a knock on the door, “Y/N, you’re needed in wardrobe and Jensen you’re needed back on set.” 

We got up and got dressed. He kissed me one last time as I walked to wardrobe and he left for set. 

On set I took my mark. My character was meeting Sam and Dean for the first time. I was Jody’s niece and I came to help her on a case, thus meeting the boys. 

“Okay everyone, you all know Y/N, Jensen’s wife. She’s going to play Dean’s love interest. Alright, places and action!” 

“Hey boys! It’s so good to see you two. It’s been far too long.” Jody hugged Sam and Dean. “You two know almost everyone here, except my niece, Ashley.” I spun around, making eye contact with the boys. Extending my hand, “Hey guys! Nice to finally meet you two. Aunt Jody has talked about the famous Sam and Dean for years.” 

Sam shook my hand and then Dean. We were supposed to look each other in the eyes and pause for a moment, but of course Jensen had to improvise. “Hey sweetheart, you helping us out on this case?” I just ran with the improv, taking his advice to heart. 

“No, I figured I’d just stay here in the kitchen and wait by the door with a drink in hand until you returned.” Laughter ripped through the set. Jensen smirked his famous Dean smirk and I went weak in the knees. 

Dean stepped closer to me, lifted my chin, “Well Ashley, as much as I’d love that I’d much rather have you by my side on the hunt.” “Oh would you now? Dean, tell me something. Does that line ever work?” 

Sam laughed. Jody stepped in “Alright you two, leave the flirting for later. We have a job to do.” 

Before too long the director was calling cut. Everyone congratulated me and told me I was a natural. Jensen walked over, pulled me in a hug and kissed my lips. “Damn baby, you were incredible.�� “Oh Jens, I was so nervous. Are you sure I did okay? When you started to improvise I almost lost it.”

“Darlin’, you were great! Come on, let’s get ready to go home. We’ve got some more practicing to do.” I giggled as he pulled me towards the trailer to change. 

The next few days on set were long and grueling. I messed up a couple of times and got so frustrated with myself. Jensen was directing the episode today so it made my nerves worse. I honestly felt like I was going to throw up. 

Jensen sat behind the camera and I was delivering lines to Sam. I fumbled because I was so nervous. “Cut!” Jensen’s voice boomed causing me to jump. 

Jensen walked up to me and took my hand, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You seem off.” “I’m just really nervous today and it’s making me nauseous. I’m sorry.” 

Jensen cupped my face and pressed a soft kiss to my lips, “You’re doing great baby. For someone who’s never acted, you’re doing an amazing job.” 

I nodded and took a deep breath, “Okay. I’m ready.” 

We continued shooting and Jensen finally called cut for the last time of the day. I was mentally and physically exhausted. 

Jensen had some things to do before he could leave the set, so I went back to the trailer, took a shower and curled up on the bed. Before too long I had fallen asleep. 

Jensen walked in and saw me asleep on the bed and smiled. He was used to these long shoots. He knew I was not . Slipping out of his boots and down to his boxers he climbed in the bed with me. 

Wrapping his arm around me, I moaned and snuggled closer to his warm body. “Mm, baby should we go home?” I whispered. Jensen tightened his arm around me, “No, let’s just stay here tonight.” I nodded and fell back to sleep. 

The next few months were filled with shoots and reshoots. Long days and early morning calls. Dean and Ashley’s relationship was taking shape on the show and the leaked information seemed to be met with excitement. The fans were rabid for more information. Eric was very careful with what was released. 

Jensen was sitting on the couch at home, pencil in his hand and a furrowed brow. He tapped his pencil on the paper and let out a long sigh. “Jens, are you okay?” He looked up, his green eyes red with exhaustion and full of frustration. “Yeah, I’m just trying to get this ending perfect. Dean deserves it, so do the fans.” 

I moved closer to him, took the pencil and paper out of his hand and straddled his lap. “Honey, take a break. It’s going to be perfect no matter what you write, because Dean isn’t the only one who needs this ending, you do too. Come on, let's get you nice and relaxed.” 

He smirked and his hands grabbed my hips, he leaned forward and kissed me. His hands slipped up my back and held me tight. I could feel the arousal settling in my core. “Jens, take me to our room, please.” I breathed out in a soft moan. 

Jensen took me to our bedroom and laid me on the bed. His hands slid up my thighs and to the waistband of my pants. I nodded and lifted my hips. He unzipped my pants and pulled them down with my panties. 

Jensen threw them to the side and let out a low growl as he stood up. I sat up and pulled my shirt over my head and Jensen unhooked my bra. “Damn baby, I am one lucky man. Look at you.” 

I blushed. “Jens, you’re over dressed.” I smirked. He pulled his shirt over his head and I clenched my thighs together at the sight of his toned body. 

I bit my lip as he removed his pants and boxers. 

Jensen’s fingertips brushed up my thighs as he climbed in between my legs. I felt the bed dip down as he positioned himself. Jensen leaned forward and kissed my lips soft at first, then full of need. His hands found my folds and his fingers delicately pushed past and to my entrance. “Damn baby, you’re soaked.” 

I moved my hips as his fingers pushed inside me. He hooked them up, pulling a moan from my lips. The sound his fingers made pushing in and out of me, and the moans from my lips filled the room with the most pornographic, erotic sound I’d ever heard. It turned me on more. 

“Mmm, that’s right baby. Cum for me. Let me hear how good it feels.” “Jens, I’m so close. Oh god baby!” I felt myself getting closer to my release. He was the only one who could ever make me cum as quickly as he does.

Jensen’s fingers moved faster and he started rubbing my clit. “Come on baby, let go. I’m right here.” My body responded to him and I came hard. My body was squeezing his fingers inside me as he helped me ride out my release.

My heart was beating fast and my legs felt like jello. Jensen smirked, leaned down and kissed my lips. “Jens, I need you, now!” I growled against his lips. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Jensen pumped himself a few times, lined himself up and pushed his engorged cockhead past my glistening lips and into my waiting core. His head dipped into the crook of my neck as he bottomed out. 

Lifting my legs up he pushed in deeper. His movements were steady and slow. Leaning down to kiss my lips and kiss down my body. 

The bed squeaked with every thrust. Jensen and my bodies tangled together and moved in perfect harmony.

My fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulders as he picked up the pace. Each thrust pushed us both closer to the edge. “Jens, don’t stop…fuck! Yes! Just like that..” “Yes baby! Oh fuck, Y/N. I’m going to cum.” 

My second release hit as Jensen’s thrusts picked up. My release pulled his out with a grunt. His seed coating my insides white.

Jensen held onto me as he emptied inside me. He leaned down and kissed my lips softly, “God I love you. So much, Y/N.” I smiled against his lips, “I love you too, Jensen.”

He got out of bed and grabbed a washcloth to clean us both up. After we were clean he pulled the blanket over us and held me tight. 

“Jens, why not give Dean a baby? The fans would eat that up. They’ve always wanted Dean to have a wife and a child.” Jensen laid in the bed, quiet. I could tell he was thinking. 

“I tell you what, let’s write it out and see how it looks on paper and if we could make it work.” I nodded.

As he tried to get up, I pulled him back down. “Absolutely not, Mr Ackles. You’re staying right here with me for a while. I’m not some cheap floozy you can bang and then leave.” I smirked. 

“Oh believe me, you’re not cheap. Far from it sweetheart.” Jensen smirked and I gasped. I feigned hurt. “Aww sweetheart, I was only kidding.” “I bet Dean Winchester wouldn’t treat me like that.” I stuck my tongue out and Jensen laughed. “No, he wouldn’t, but your husband loves to banter with you and would do anything to make you happy, even give you a baby.”

My eyes shot up and I looked at him, gasping softly. “What?” “Sweetheart, I know you want a baby, our baby. Maybe after we wrap, you and I can try.”

“Jensen, are you sure? I know you already have 3.” 

He cupped my face, “Yes, I’m sure. What do you say?” I kissed his lips, peppering his face with kisses, “Yes, Jensen! Yes, I want to try.” 

The next few weeks the finale was written and Jensen seemed satisfied with it. The shoots and reshoots were really starting to take its toll on me. 

Jensen would often find me curled up on the couch or the bed in between shoots. Today was no different, except I had a cold that was making the exhaustion worse. 

I didn’t have any scenes today, so I stayed in the trailer. Around lunchtime I walked to craft services to get something to eat. I grabbed a little of everything and carried it back to the trailer. Sitting on the couch I ate my fill, grabbed the blanket and fell back to sleep. 

About an hour later Jensen came in for his lunch break and saw all the food. He laughed, “Hey sweetheart, looks like you’ve gotten your appetite back.” I stretched and rubbed my eyes, “Yeah, I wasn’t sure what I wanted so I grabbed a little of everything.” He chuckled, “Looks like it. How are you feeling?”

“Still really tired. I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon, I really hope I don’t have the flu. I have an early shoot tomorrow.” Jensen looked up, “Do you need me to go with you?” I shook my head no, “I’ll be okay. Besides, you have an afternoon shoot.” 

The afternoon appointment provided answers, ones that brought even more of a challenge. Arriving back on the lot I went to the set to see how filming was going. They had just wrapped for the day and Jensen was meeting with Eric and Robert about the finale. 

Jensen saw me and motioned to me. “Hey baby. How was your appointment?” “It was good. So, how did you two like the finale writing?” 

“It was great! What do you think?” I placed my hand in Jensen’s, “I think it’s perfect.” 

“Great, we start shooting the last episode in about a week. You rest and take care of yourself.” I nodded, “I will, doc said it’s nothing bad and it will pass.” 

The day to shoot the final episode was here and I was so nervous. Jensen had gone to set early and I was meeting him there. I grabbed my stuff and headed to set. 

Changing into my costume I walked to set. Jensen and Jared were already on set when I walked in. “Hey baby. You ready?” I nodded, “Yep, let’s do it.”

Robert took his place behind the camera, he and Jensen were directing the final episode, but because Jensen was in this scene he was in the hot seat. 

“Alright, places! Action!” 

“Come on Dean, Sam, Eileen and their son will be here any minute. I need you to help me set the table.” “In a minute, sweetheart. I’ve got to finish wrapping this present.” 

Ashley sighed. Hearing him fight with the paper and tape had her giggling. “Knock, knock. Dean, Ashley, we’re here.” “In the kitchen, Sam.” Ashley yelled from the bunker kitchen.

Sam and Eileen walked in with Sam Jr. in her arms. Ashley smiled and held out her hands for the baby. “How is the cutest nephew in the world?! Auntie Ashley missed you so much.” Placing a kiss on his head, she handed the baby back. 

“Okay, y’all go make yourselves comfortable, dinner is almost ready.” Dean walked into the kitchen and snaked his arms around her waist. “Need any help, baby?” “No, go spend time with Sammy, your sister in law and your nephew.” 

He nodded, walked over to the plate of cookies and swiped one. “Dean Winchester! You’re going to spoil your dinner.” He laughed and walked out, popping the cookie in his mouth.

After dinner and dessert everyone gathered around the Christmas Tree to exchange gifts. Ashley and Dean bought Sam a new briefcase, because he was headed back to law school. “Guys, this is awesome. Thank you!” 

Other gifts were exchanged and Ashley had one more for Dean. She walked over towards Dean with a small box in hand. Taking a steady breath she handed it to him. 

Dean’s green eyes sparkling with excitement, “What’s this?” Ashley smiled, “Just open it.” Dean carefully pulled the paper off and opened the box. In the box was a picture frame, and in the picture frame was a black and white photo. Dean’s face contorted with confusion. “What is this picture of?” 

“Dean, look closely at it.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but I was so nervous, because this wasn’t just a gift for Dean, it was meant for Jensen too. 

Dean looked closely at it and realized it was a sonogram. “Wait, does this mean you’re pregnant?” I nodded, “Yes Dean, you’re going to be a daddy.” Jensen was confused because this was not part of the script. He looked closer at the sonogram and saw my name on it. His eyes shot up to mine as the realization hit him. He whispered as tears filled his eyes, “You’re pregnant?” 

Tears filled my eyes and they started to fall, “Yes, we’re having a baby, Merry Christmas, Dean Winchester.” Jensen leaped out of the chair and threw his arms around me, pulling me into a kiss. 

“And Cut! Perfect you two!” We were too wrapped up in the kiss to pull apart. Eric and Robert came up to us and as we parted congratulated Jensen and I.

Jensen’s eyes went wide, “You two knew?” “Of course we did. How else do you think it got written in?” They laughed. 

Jensen and I walked back to our trailer, his hand on the small of my back, his other holding the sonogram. I was so nervous. “Y/N, are you okay?” I nodded.

“Jens, I know we talked about waiting until later, but I guess fate had other plans. I’m sorry.” 

He cupped my face, “Shh hey, no. This is amazing. We’re having a baby! I can’t believe it. Dean’s getting the ending he deserves, with a beautiful wife and a baby, and I get to have a baby with my beautiful wife. Everything is perfect.”

“I love you, Jensen so much.” “I love you too, Y/N, (he placed his hand on my belly) and I love you too.”

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[monokoitari]

I'm thinking this idea so hard that I definitely have to write it down, but shit!! It's hard for me to capture Shen Yuan's chaotic vibes in a good narrative way

So it begins like this: Shen Yuan transmigrates. Not into Shen Qingqiu. He opens his eyes and there are two massive tits crushing him, a luxurious room, a garish and bitchy System with kaomojis. Well, he's a wife. A Binghe's wife.

Shen Yuan wants to run away, obviously. Get his penis back, get his MASCULINE MALE MANTASTIC body back, and get as far away from Binghe and the harem and their shitty dramas as possible. He doesn't need that, no thanks. The System obviously doesn't let him. [ You're a wife, user!!! You must behave like the original goods until you collect enough points to unlock the OOC!! ]

And the shit begins. Little harem dramas. Uncovering clues like silly children's puzzles. Shen yuan is fed up, bored, moody, hated by many wives (apparently the original goods were not in good standing. Half-demon, which is good- more power and more strength when escaping!!, but not for a harem wife. Especially since that body is 5'10" and is strong as a sword instead of submissive and bendable like the other sweet wives).

Even though the System keeps putting him in shitty situations, the truth is that there is no trace of Binghe during the first week. Nor the second. By the third, Shen Yuan gets a little worried. According to the current storyline, he shouldn't be far away... No wars, no new wives, just a missing Binghe. Shen Yuan snoops around Binghe's office with such bad luck that Binghe definitely shows up at that moment.

And Binghe looks... Tired. He's tired and grumpy, treating the wife with ice-cold kindness, and Shen Yuan treats him back. It's not that he wants to! It's not that he's offended to see his favorite and be horrible to him! It's the fucking shitty System! If Shen Yuan could, he would be on his knees before Binghe being pathetic and pitiful to ensure his protection!!

But he can't. Binghe sends him away after a cold and hostile encounter and Shen Yuan runs away in a dignified manner (running after the corridor where Binghe can't see him anymore is different).

The next morning, Shen Yuan makes a plan: he will do whatever it takes to get his last damn twenty points to activate OOC mode and get the hell out. Nope, no more Binghe for him. One taste was enough. Thanks but no thanks.

What gets complicated is when one of Binghe's personal servants!!! goes to his room. Binghe is inviting this lady wife to have breakfast with him. And Shen Yuan... He can't say no. Partly because of the System, partly because of the ambition for points, partly because he wants to try Binghe's food. And because he wants to... see Binghe. Again. He's his favorite, okay, don't judge him, maybe Binghe was just tired and being hostile to him. The duties of an Emperor are many and Shen Yuan was invading his private territory. Aaaaand he's a wife, after all, he can't treat him like that aaaaaall the time...

Binghe's breakfast is a delight. In his month at the palace, he has eaten nothing more delicious. Binghe is darkly charming: Shen Yuan asks about her (him), how she (he) is, how she (he) has been. Shen Yuan learns two things: the original goods had only been in the harem for a month and week when Shen Yuan usurped his body, and Luo Binghe doesn't know much about his wife, which means he can improvise answers without losing his in-character personality. The System even gives him +5 points for improvising!!

... +5 points that go to hell when Luo Binghe exposes a scroll on the table. Written in the original goods handwriting... it's a divorce application!!

"I was in my office" says Binghe as the System takes 50 points from him of a blow.

Of course Binghe is going to be wrong now. Of course he is believing that Shen Yuan filed for divorce the day before, when he found him in his office!! Damn original goods, why divorce Binghe!? Does divorce even exist in PIDW!? WHY!?

Shen Yuan makes up excuses, loses at least 20 more points, makes up more things again and sadly crawls with only 15 points in his favor and a rather furious Binghe.

Why does this wife want to abandon Binghe? This emperor has been kind, does this wife want something different? Shen Yuan makes up that he never imagined being married to an absent husband, capable of making him feel so lonely in a nest of other lonely women... And Binghe seems genuinely affected by it. Ah, loneliness, the weapon Binghe knows firsthand. An isolated and caring newcomer, being mocked and humiliated by others, seeking to remain resilient. Binghe, this one promises that he didn't use your past traumas on purpose!!

Binghe promises that he will change her (his) mind. He will be a present husband and make her (him) feel comfortable. Which makes Shen Yuan's escape plans go to fuckin hell. Bye bye, xianxia male body! Hello, another weeks of back pain from huge boobs!

And Binghe delivers on his promise, unfortunately. What's it costing you to be a normal man and forget your promises every day, damn protagonist!!

Shen Yuan wakes up with breakfast from Binghe, continues his day with walks with Binghe, ends his afternoon with dinner with Binghe, and dodges the papapa like a champ. Binghe is patient, considerate. Their conversations are charming, but Shen Yuan can see him... Sad. There is an old braid in his hair and deep dark circles under his eyes. Binghe looks exhausted, wasted, and when he thinks Shen Yuan isn't looking, his face shows so much sorrow that Shen Yuan wants to comfort him.

There's not much he can say. Get some random points - holding Binghe's hand at the right moment, discussing an important point about a creature and a hunt, giving recommendations how to best deal with eastern bear demons... Binghe seems to appreciate his company beyond the call of duty, which makes Shen Yuan a little proud. He's spending time with his favorite fictional boy without screwing up.

Then his body gets sick.

Xianxia World! Cultivation! Magic! Nothing? Shen Yuan wakes up with his head spinning like he's just stepped off a roller coaster, vomiting pathetically into an empty vase. The nausea is not getting better. His headache is horrible.

The System offers him to buy a skip plot; it comes out the same points that Shen Yuan has and he has tried hard not to spend them, a ridiculously large amount of points just to avoid a stomach infection. It's hard to complete side quests with the protagonist attached to his hip! Shen Yuan drops the skip plot.

The System insists. If he doesn't skip the plot now, he won't be able to do so in the future. Shen Yuan ignores it again. It's a silly illness. Nothing a little rest won't help.

... a little rest won't make it better.

Shen Yuan is thankful that Luo Binghe is not in the palace on his mission in the east, because he can be fully pathetic. He barely eats, faints from hunger, but as soon as he puts something in his mouth his stomach expels it. Damn demented body, do you want to eat only Binghe's food so much!? Spoiled body.

Shen Yuan sleeps a lot, sobs a lot in pain, growls (his body can growl. It's interesting) to the servants who come to clean, he takes cool showers that relieve his headache, and continues to expel every crumb.

He thinks he was even poisoned. He doesn't let the harem doctors get close. Mostly because he doesn't know them, but also because he remembers a subplot about a doctor who poisoned Binghe's wives to get revenge because Binghe had refused to take his daughter (for reasons that were entirely valid for Shen Yuan: she was a girl of barely twelve years old) in marriage and she had run away from home to avoid the humiliation. The plot ended with the girl hiding in the doctor's basement, who had made everything up, Binghe making a gore chapter out of it to remember the old days, and adopting the little girl to be raised among his many children in the harem... A good subplot for Shen Yuan, without unnecessary papapa even if it was for two chapters and followed by a threesome with massive busty demons.

Shen Yuan doesn't want to take any chances to unlock some gore subplot. So he just endures his nausea and pain until it fades about two weeks later. Suddenly it's bearable. He can snack on fruit and some roasted seeds. Some flavors are still intolerable to him... some smells too. He feels nauseous at the strongest, or even mildest, smells, but if they are too sweet he must run away. And textures on his skin. And tunics squeezing him. And his fucking huge tits hurt. They hurt like, like they're going to burst or break his cleavage. He even believes that from one day to the next they look bigger if that is possible. Wearing clothes is annoying. Having a body is annoying. Is this some fucking PMS that Shen Yuan didn't want to live with?

Wasn't it a ferocious body of a half-demon with a high cultivation level?? Why is he having PMS? He hasn't... bled since he came into this world!

...

. . .

He hasn't bled since he came to that world. The wedding (papapa of the original goods with The Heavenly Pillar) was almost three months ago. Shen Yuan has been occupying that body for almost two months.

...

. . .

That's not fucking happening.

"System, what the hell!?"

[ User was given the opportunity to buy a skip plot! User rejected it!!! (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠) Congratulations on making it through the first trimester in a healthy way!!! ]

Fucking shit.

[polarisjisung]

MISTLETOE

synopsis: Ugly sweaters, roasting marshmallows, filling stockings, and visiting the markets— Christmas is all about tradition, right? After years of spending the holidays away from home, you and Haechan revive your favourite Christmas tradition, and perhaps adopt a new one too.

wc: 2k

pairings: (v slight) brothers bsf! haechan × fem! reader

genre: fluff

warnings: one(?) swear word

notes: was feeling homesick, so I wrote this, kinda different to how I usually write, I think

also big love to my cute mooties @winwintea + @suzayaaa for reading this for me (and fixing up my horrific grammar 🫠) ily so much 🫶🫶

It's the most beautiful time of the year

Lights fill the streets, spreading so much cheer

It was a chilly evening, just a week before Christmas, and you were curled up on the couch in your grandmother's home.

It was tradition— the lead-up to Christmas spent in this small cottage that had just the right amount of space for your huge family game nights and bake offs. You take a moment to look around.

The soft glow of the Christmas tree lights filled the room, the one you'd helped decorate the second it hit December first, and the fireplace crackled beside you, comforting, cosy, and beautifully nostalgic.

This was the first Christmas you'd been able to spend with your folks in years.

It was only fair you felt the warmth of the living room wrap around you, grounding you in a way that felt both familiar and comforting, You missed this. Somehow you still felt a smile tugging at your lips as you thought back to last year.

Christmas dinner with your flatmates had been a disaster—burnt potatoes and a mystery bird in the oven that you still weren’t sure was chicken or turkey, potentially neither.

A total fail, you had to admit, but you sure did have the best honey glazed carrots of your life. It was a warm feeling, and perhaps in some strange way, you almost missed it, but nothing could compare to being home.

You really had missed this.

“That happy to see me, huh?”

You hadn't realised when he'd walked through the door— which considering you were currently home alone spoke volumes about your lack of spatial awareness, but you recognised him in an instant.

Black wavy hair parted roughly through the middle, specks of white scattered across his face and melting into his black coat, you'd recognise that face anywhere— Lee Haechan.

The guy who spent a few too many nights in your childhood home, playing video games, lounging around and crashing on the couch every so often.

Time seems to have treated him well, because if he wasn't before, he was cute as fuck now, and you certainly weren't ashamed to stare. Although your increasingly pink cheeks certainly didn't do you any favours even if you had intended to hide that fact.

“Haechan, it's been a while.” You spoke, making one swift move to hoist yourself up off the couch and make your way towards him.

“Too long, apparently, you haven't called me that in years”

He’s right, and though it's been months since you saw him, you still recognise the slither of hurt that lingers in the space between you.

Sure, you had stayed in touch through one too many spontaneous video calls, but something about seeing him in person again had you scratching the back of your neck.

You laugh awkwardly. Finally reaching the space in front of him you wipe your sweaty palms across the ugly Christmas sweater that your grandma had forced you to wear, “Right, Hyuck, how could I forget.”

You feel his arm wrap around you, a hug tighter and warmer than you'd ever shared, one you return with your own arms wrapped loosely around his neck.

“So what's got you all smiley?”

You shake your head, dismissive, but Haechan’s gaze presses further for an answer.

“Just glad to be back home” you respond, eyes raking over every familiar detail of the room you loved so much.

“Yeah,” he does the same, noticing how your hair's grown a little since you last spoke. “I'm glad you're back too.”

And something tells you that his words come from a place far beyond standard courtesy.

Now Haechan wouldn't openly admit it, but Christmas without you hadn't been the same.

For starters, you were a pro hot chocolate maker, a self-acclaimed, but totally deserved title, even if you did put the marshmallows on top of the cream instead of under it where they could melt.

You had always defended yourself saying it looked cuter, and who was Haechan to argue with that. He chuckles at the thought.

And how could he forget those cookies, the cookies you made every year, but still happened to burn a batch of, each time you baked them. God, he swore last Christmas he'd have done anything for one of those.

Haechan had realised how much those small details could change everything.

And if he was really being honest, Mark's hot chocolate wasn't anywhere near as good as yours, and it sure as hell didn't come with cookies.

But more than that, Haechan had just missed you.

He missed the tacky jokes you made and the ring of your laughter across the house.

He missed the way you'd walk into a room and make it feel instantly brighter or how you would show up in a Santa suit on Christmas Eve, dishing out toys to the children on the street like candy on Halloween.

Perhaps he was a little crazy, loving the constantly sniffling, snotty version of you that was always sick around this time of year— a little out of the ordinary for thinking you looked beautiful, even with a strap-on beard and a fake belly, but it was the truth.

And it was a truth he was happy to live with.

The festive season felt incomplete when you weren't around. It felt like a Christmas tree without the star on top— like everything was just a touch less magical without you.

Haechan realises he's been thinking for a while, a suspiciously long while. And only now did he realise just how empty the house seemed, too quiet for your family, that somewhere along the way had become his too, to not be around.

“How come you're alone?”

“I was napping” You smiled meekly “and they left to check out the Christmas markets in the town over.”

Haechan nodded. You'd give up anything for your naps so he didn't find himself surprised, just strangely chirpy knowing you hadn't changed since the last he saw you. Which really wasn't so long ago, but still enough for the awkwardness to resettle between you.

“I don't suppose they'll be back any time soon,” he says, not even waiting for you to agree, “so it's just you and me.”

He tries his hardest not to let on just how much he's losing his mind, but God it's hard when you're smirking up at him like that.

Mark would probably kill him if he ever found out just how badly he wants to wipe the smug expression right off your lips. Haechan’s sure it violates some sort of bro-code, wanting to kiss your best friend's little sister, but then again Mark wasn't here to stop him.

“Didn't think my company was that bad.”

Maybe he had tried a little too hard.

You expect some smart response, maybe a little teasing, but instead, Haechan pulls you back up off the couch you'd just sunk back down on.

"Let’s go” Haechan glances up at you with a mischievous smile.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Go? Where?"

"You'll see,” he shrugs, “unless you'd rather stay home”

Haechan was always full of surprises, and you couldn't fight back your smile. “As long as you're not planning to kill me.”

His eyes sparkled with excitement, and you couldn't help but laugh as he practically dragged you out the door. Not before making sure you were warm by forcibly tying a scarf around your neck though. It was sweet really.

It was snowing lightly outside, the ground covered in a soft blanket of white.

Haechan had firmly clasped his hand in yours, your breath creating little clouds in the frosty air. The tip of your nose was slowly blushing a light pink, your eyes growing glossy from the cold, the oversized scarf almost swallowing you whole. To make matters worse, you were practically waddling over the snow, taking cautious steps so as not to fall, and Haechan couldn't help but find it so incredibly cute.

The town was alive with holiday spirit — the streetlights twinkled, shop windows were adorned with festive displays, and the sound of Christmas carols filled the air. Your eyes wandered the streets, but his were stuck firmly on you.

Finally, after a short walk, you arrived at a quaint little ice skating rink tucked away in the corner of the park. It was charming, with those adorably tacky lights strung along the perimeter and a big, sparkling Christmas tree in the center. The rink was surprisingly quiet for a holiday evening, you almost preferred it that way.

Haechan grinned, already pulling you toward the ticket booth. "I thought we could try reviving an old tradition," he said, his eyes bright with excitement. "You up for it?"

You chuckled, suddenly realising just how much you missed this— his spontaneity, his joy, and that infectious energy of his. "You know I’m still terrible at ice skating, right?"

"I know," he teased, giving you a light nudge. "But that’s part of the fun."

You rolled your eyes playfully, following after him. After getting your skates, Haechan laced up his own and then did the same for you, his touch gentle as he tied your laces, his face soft with affection. Exactly like the old times.

“Ready?” he asked, standing up and offering you a hand.

For a moment you were sure you'd make a fool of yourself, fall face flat on the ice, or go flying across the rink. But as soon as you stepped onto the rink, Haechan’s hand reached out to hold yours.

“You know letting go of the railings might help a little” he chuckles, “trust me I won't let you fall.”

It was all so familiar, his constant encouragement, your consistent failure to skate for more than a metre before crashing into something.

Yet it still felt so different.

It wasn't until you crashed into someone that you heard Haechan's laughter echoing, watching you apologise with a doting grin on his face.

Maybe letting go of your hand wasn't the wisest idea.

"Don’t worry, just lean on me," he said, his voice soft and filled with affection.

And lean you did. You found yourself clinging to him more than you thought you would, but it felt natural. He made everything seem easier.

“Y'know, you really suck hyuck” You rolled your eyes at him.

He grinned, in true Haechan fashion, finding hilarity in your frustration, “Hey that rhymed.”

“How are you so good at everything?” You huff, almost crossing your arms before he stops you, steadying you as you were beginning to fall.

“See I can't even be bitter about it without needing your help”

He shrugged playfully. "That's the point."

You roll your eyes again, and you swear you watch Haechan’s eyes light up even more.

“Alright moody, why don’t we take a breather?” He laughs lightly, steering you toward the edge of the rink with a teasing smile.

Haechan wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close as the snow continued to fall gently around you. The city lights flickered in the distance, and sure you still couldn't ice skate to save your life, but in that moment, your heart swelled with warm content.

"This is perfect," you murmured, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"I’m glad you think so," Haechan replied softly, his voice just a little breathless.

He tilted his head, and for a moment, you thought he might say something more. But then, instead of speaking, he leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead. The gesture was simple but full of meaning.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, pulling back slightly to look at you, his eyes bright.

"Anything," you replied, heart racing a little.

He began with a playful grin, pointing upwards, where a small sprig of mistletoe hung above you, "How about we start a new Christmas tradition? Every year, just you and me."

Your heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t an official proposal or anything, but the sentiment felt just as deep. Haechan, always so carefree, was suggesting something that made you feel warm inside.

Without hesitating, you nodded. "How could I say no?"

And then, without another word, Haechan leaned in, kissing you gently under the mistletoe.

When you pulled away, you both smiled content, knowing that this was just the beginning of many more Christmases together. You'd always spent Christmas together, but perhaps this moment had redefined just what that meant.

“You know,” he whispered, his lips curling into a playful grin, “this is definitely going to be my favorite Christmas tradition.”

You couldn’t agree more.