#LETS START ROASTING THE CHESTNUTS

[inkykeiji]

⋆₊꙳ ͙͛ ❆*̩̩͙‧͙ HAPPY FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS!!! ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

[reilemon]

Return To You

♡︎ synopsis: You rely on Sylus to keep you warm on a winter getaway.

♡︎pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

♡︎ tags: fluff, oral (female receiving), love making (for a change)

♡︎ word count: 6.1k

♡︎ a/n: some cute holiday fluff for @hesperisms 💕✨

♡︎ Not beta read, but I'm still giving a shoutout to my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎.

divider by @anitalenia

The town square looks like a winter wonderland straight out of a postcard. Fairy lights shimmer like little stars from every tree, their warm glow reflected on the thin snowy blanket and salt-covered cobblestones. The air carries the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts, caramel apples, and spiced mulled wine – the aromas making your mouth water with every step as you lead, or better yet, drag Sylus towards the ice rink. You’d been eyeing the rink all night, and now, with only a handful of skaters, it’s the perfect time to venture out.

You turn to Sylus who is dressed impeccably, as always, his coat tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders. You can’t help but smile at his rosy cheeks and nose, the color from the winter air making him look less intimidating. Though, he still stands out in this festive setting.

"You’ve been indulging me all day," you say, leaning closer to him, pulling his focus back to you. "I think it’s time to try something fun together."

He raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking in a small, amused smirk. "And your idea of fun is strapping blades to our feet and risking broken bones?"

You laugh. "C’mon, it’s almost empty!" You nod towards the skate rental stand. “Let’s go and get our skates!”

"Our?" he repeats. "I’m more than happy to watch you make a spectacle of yourself while I stay safely on solid ground."

You pout, crossing your arms over your winter coat. "That’s not fair. I’m not good at this, and I need someone strong to keep me upright."

Sylus doesn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze shifting back to the ice rink, then to you, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Don’t tell me you’ve never ice-skated before," you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

"I didn’t say that," he replies smoothly. "I’m simply saying I prefer to observe."

"That’s just a fancy way of saying you’re bad at it," you counter and playfully nudge his side with your elbow. "Please, Sylus? It’ll be fun. I promise not to let go of your hand."

His mouth opens as if to argue, but your wide-eyed, pleading look stops him. He exhales slowly, a puff of mist curling in the air between you, and shakes his head with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

"Fine," he mutters. "But if I fall, you’re to blame."

You beam at him, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the skate rental stand. "Deal! But I’m warning you now—I’m terrible at this, so we might both fall."

As the cheerful attendant hands over your skates, you glance up at Sylus.

"Thank you," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

"Don’t thank me yet," he replies, as he looks at the skates. "Let’s see if we survive this first."

As you step onto the rink, Sylus’ grip on your hand tightens, the grip of his gloved hand firm and his presence reassuring against the slippery unpredictability of the ice. He steps further, leading you slowly with him. His fitness and natural grace give him an edge, but you can tell by the slight furrow in his brow that he’s carefully adjusting to the sensation of skating.

"You need to keep your knees slightly bent," Sylus instructs as he glances down at you wobbling by his side.

You giggle nervously, your free hand flailing slightly for balance. "Easier said than done! This is harder than I remember."

He watches you with a mixture of amusement and focus as you take a cautious step forward. "Relax. Lean forward slightly— I know you can do it."

Following his instructions, you do as you’re told, feeling a little more stable as you start to glide, although slowly. Sylus moves alongside you, his strides smooth and confident now, his hand never letting go of yours.

"You’re a natural," you tease, grinning up at him.

"Hardly," he replies with a small smirk. "But at least one of us needs to stay upright."

The sound of your laughter fills the crisp air as you grow bolder, gliding a little faster, though your feet still wobble occasionally. Sylus keeps up with you effortlessly, his focus shifting between your movements and the icy terrain ahead. At one point, as you make a sharper turn, your skate catches slightly, making you stumble. Before you can hit the ice, Sylus’ arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling you close.

"Careful, kitten." he murmurs, as he steadies you.

You laugh, your cheeks flushed from the cold and him. "Thank you. You’re like my personal safety net."

Sylus’ lips twitch in a faint smile, but he says nothing, his hand lingering on your waist for a moment longer before he releases you. Feeling emboldened after a few minutes of smooth gliding, you try to add a little twist, lifting your arms and attempting a small spin. The move immediately throws you off balance, and before you can topple over, Sylus catches you again, his grip firm but careful.

"No spins," he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.

"But—"

"You’re going to hurt yourself," he interrupts. Even though he is serious, you can see that he’s amused by your confidence in your skills.

You pout playfully. "Fine. But only if you promise we’ll come back for more ice-skating dates until I can spin."

Sylus sighs, the mist leaving his lips with the faint smile. "Fine. We’ll come back. But only if you promise not to try anything reckless again."

"Deal," you say brightly, grabbing his hand again as you continue gliding across the ice.

Though Sylus was reluctant at first, he finds that skating isn’t so bad as he watches you enjoy yourself. The cold air bites at your cheeks, your laughter echoing in the winter night, and for a brief moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you on the shimmering ice.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

After leaving the ice rink, a little flushed and breathless, Sylus leads you through the bustling rows of stalls. He buys you your favorite candy, while he picks out some odd, colorful confections for himself—strange mix of flavors that you wouldn’t have dared to try, but he seems intrigued.

As you stroll further, your eyes catch on a vibrant display of oversized plushies at a game stall. A particularly cute dragon plushie catches your attention, its soft fabric shimmering slightly under the lights. You figure that this is a good time to regain some dignity you lost on the ice. You step up to the booth, pay the attendant, and pick up the air rifle. The attendant’s jaw practically drops as you shoot all the targets effortlessly, and Sylus’ admiration shines evident as he watches you from the side.

“Is there any space left in your apartment for more toys?” he remarks as you hug the plushie to your chest.

You shrug with a self-satisfied smile. “If not, I’ll just bring some to you.”

He chuckles, slipping his hand into yours as you continue walking through the festive town, the dragon plushie tucked snugly under your arm.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Back at the cozy lodge, you push the door open, greeted by the warmth and the comforting scent of cedar and cinnamon. Sylus steps in behind you, his arms carrying bags of candies, trinkets, and wrapped gifts you’d picked out for your friends back home. You set your dragon plushie on the couch, fluffing its wings a little before turning to help him organize everything.  He puts down a bottle of on the kitchen counter and you find the small bundle of herbs you’d picked out. After setting everything down, you feel the weight of the day in your limbs. Your arms and thighs ache from all the skating and carrying bags, but it’s almost a satisfying buzz in your muscles.

Sylus turns to you, tilting his head slightly. “You’re slowing down,” he says.

“I’m not slowing down,” you protest, but a yawn betrays you. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“Come on,” he says, motioning toward the hallway. “Let’s clean up. The bathtub’s big enough to fit both of us.”

You glance at him, but he’s already on his way to the bathroom, so you follow behind, almost giddy at the thought of a relaxing bath.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

He adjusts the temperature in the shower while you start to light candles around the room. Steam begins to fill the air, carrying the faint scent of the bath salts you placed by the tub. Stripping down, you step into the shower together. The warm spray cascades over your skin, washing away the remnants of the day’s adventures.

Once clean, you both step out and towel off. Sylus moves to the bathtub, sprinkling the bath salts into the hot water, the scent rising as he swirls the water with his hand, testing the temperature.

“Perfect,” he murmurs and takes your hand in his, helping you step into the tub first.

A relieved sigh leaves your lips as the hot water envelops you, the salts already working their magic on your tired muscles. Sylus follows, settling in across from you his broad shoulders just visible above the water’s shimmering surface. His silver hair clings to his forehead in damp strands, and his gaze is softened by the dim light as he takes in the sight of you.

You let out a long sigh, your eyes fluttering closed as you lean your head back against the bath pillow. “Well,” you mumble, “goodnight.”

A low, amused chuckle rumbles from his chest. Without a word, his leg nudges yours under the water, his foot brushing lightly against your calf, making your eyes flick open and look at him in mock annoyance.

“You can’t fall asleep here,” he says with a grin tugging at his lips.

You grin back, letting your toes nudge his shin in retaliation. “I wouldn’t. There’s hardly any room for my legs anyway, with yours taking up all the space.”

Sylus shifts slightly, the movement causing ripples across the water’s surface, as he lifts a hand and gestures toward you.

"Come here." he says, his voice low.

Your heart skips a beat at the invitation, but you don’t hesitate. Shifting forward, you move carefully through the water, as you settle in the space between his legs. He reaches up, his hands brushing lightly against your shoulders, and the weight of them is reassuring, grounding.

“Would you like a massage?” he asks, his breath warm against your damp neck.

“Yes, please,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

His hands begin to move, firm but gentle at the same time, starting at the curve of your shoulders. His thumbs press into the tense muscles there, working out knots you didn’t realize were still lingering from the day. A sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it. His hands slide down, from your shoulders to your arms, taking a moment to squeeze gently at the tension in your biceps before moves on the muscles of your upper back. Every touch melts away the strain of the evening. The water sways gently around you both, the soft ripples lapping against your skin.

“You’re easy to please,” he murmurs, a faint smile audible in his tone.

“Not true,” you counter, though the words lack conviction “Okay, maybe a little true.”

“You’re good at this,” you admit, your voice drowsy from the combination of his touch and the heat of the bath. His hands move to the back of your neck, his thumbs pressing into just the right spot to make you exhale deeply.

“I know. I have good hands.” he replies with amusement in his tone.

You laugh softly, letting your head rest against his chest for a moment as his hands finish their slow journey over your back, neck, and arms. Then, his hands slide around you, wrapping gently across your middle. You let out a soft, contented sigh as you fully lean back against him. Sylus rests his chin against the top of your head as he adjusts to hold you more snugly, his breath tickling the crown of your head. For a moment, neither of you speaks. Your eyes flutter closed, and you know that his are likely closed too, the tension you sensed in him earlier replaced by a rare ease.

You shift slightly, turning your cheek to rest against his chest, and the subtle vibration of his breath hums beneath your skin. You rest your hands on his forearms, your thumbs to kneading gently into his muscles. He hums in approval, the low sound vibrating against you.

Sylus’ hands start to move, his palms gliding over your stomach, as they settle on the curve of your waist, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive dip of your sides. Your breath catches as his hands venture lower, skimming over your thighs. His fingers linger there, kneading the muscle with firm, expert precision, but your legs remain closed. A soft moan escapes your lips, and you feel Sylus’ breath against your neck as he leans forward. His lips press against the curve where your shoulder meets your neck, planting slow, languid kisses that send tingling warmth through you.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. His hands shifting upward now, his fingers grazing just beneath the swell of your breasts, his touch featherlight, drawing another gasp from you.

Your heartbeat quickens as his hands finally move higher, cupping your breasts. His palms glide over the soft, wet skin, his thumbs circling your nipples in a way that makes you arch slightly against him, pressing into his chest. The combination of his teasing touch and the sensation of his lips against your neck leaves you utterly lost in the moment.

His lips trail higher, brushing against your jawline, before the warmth of Sylus' hands leaves your skin. His palms slide gently from your breasts before wrapping around your middle. He presses a kiss to your temple. "The water’s getting cold," he murmurs, his embrace tightening for just a moment.

You sigh, reluctant to leave the comfort of the tub and his embrace. "You’re right." you reply, your voice tinged with disappointment.  

Sylus is the first to step out of the tub, water dripping down his toned physique as he offers you a hand. His grip is firm, steadying you as you rise, goosebumps spreading all over your wet skin. Your gaze unintentionally drops—and there it is. Your cheeks burn, and Sylus catches your look, a teasing smirk curling at his lips. “We’ll handle that later.” he says smoothly.

You bite your lip as you avert your gaze, heart fluttering as you grab a towel. After you dry off and pull on your bathrobe, the plush fabric warm against your skin, an idea pops into your head. Still slightly damp, you practically skip to your luggage bag.

Sylus watches you with a raised brow, leaning casually against the doorframe as he ties his robe around his waist. “What are you up to now?”

“Wait and see!” you say, as you unzip the bag and pull out the matching pajama set you’d hidden there—a playful, festive pattern of candy canes and gingerbread men. It smells faintly of your fabric softener, the scent wafting up as you hold it out to him.

Sylus takes the set from your hands, his eyes narrowing as he inspects the goofy design. He exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d pick something like this,”

“You’re wearing it,” you say firmly with a giddy smile.

With a mock sigh of resignation, Sylus slips into the pajamas, the soft fabric snug against his frame. You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, but he catches the gleam in your eyes.

“Laugh it up,” he says. "I’ll remember this.”

You grin unabashedly, slipping into your matching set before leading him out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen, eager to make mulled wine. Sylus opens the wine bottle while you gather the spices and a small pot. The two of you move seamlessly, your bodies brushing now and then as you prepare. The smell of cinnamon, cloves, and citrus soon fills the air, mixing with the aroma of red wine. As the wine simmers gently on the stove, Sylus excuses himself briefly, heading toward the living room. Moments later, the faint sound of a match striking is followed by the soft crackle of the fireplace. The warm scent of wood begins to fill the air, mingling with the spicy aroma of the mulled wine bubbling in the kitchen.

When he returns to the stove, you leave the kitchen to him and go around the other rooms, gathering every pillow and blanket you could find. Then you go to the living room where you arrange them into a cozy nest on the plush rug, settling everything just right by the fire. Satisfied with your work, you sit down and wrap yourself in one of the soft blankets, snuggling into it as you hold a well-loved box of Travel Size Kitty Cards in your hands.

When Sylus steps into the room carrying two steaming mugs of mulled wine, his lips quirk into an amused smile as he takes in the sight of you, warm and snug, holding the deck of cards. “Do you really want to spend the evening losing to me at this?”

“Losing?” You pout, shuffling the cards with more determination now. “You think you’re so good at this game, don’t you? Luck doesn’t count as skill.”

Sylus arches a brow. “Luck is a skill when you know how to use it.” He says as he sits across from you.

You roll your eyes, finishing the shuffle and placing the deck between you. “Alright, three rounds. I’ll win at least two, and when I do—” you lean forward with a cocky grin— “we’re buying matching reindeer onesies tomorrow.”

He shakes his head. “Reindeer onesies? That’s your wager?” He pauses, feigning deep contemplation, then leans closer. “Fine. But if I win, you’re wearing the gift I got you for the rest of the night.”

Your cheeks immediately heat at his words, your mind conjuring up images of delicate lace. You try to play it cool, though your blush betrays you, and you can’t quite meet his gaze. “Oh,” you murmur, “alright. Deal.”

His eyes catch every flicker of your expression. “You seem eager for me to win.”

You sigh, grabbing the deck of cards and start setting up the game. “Don’t get cocky, Sylus.” But as you focus on your hand, you find yourself secretly rooting for him, curious to see what he has picked out for you.

“Let’s see, then,” he murmurs, his voice rich with confidence as he picks up his cards. “Try to keep up.”

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Sylus shakes his head as he gathers the cards, sliding them back into the little box, his smug grin never leaving his face.

"First round victory got you cocky," he teases. "And that, kitten, was your undoing."

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. "The wine clouded my judgment," you huff, your tone a mix of irritation and playful defiance.

Sylus chuckles as he sets the box aside. "We both know that’s not true," he replies. "You’ve had, what? One mug? Hardly enough to make you lose focus. So, really… it’s just you."

His grin widens as he leans back on one hand, utterly at ease while you sit there pouting. The firelight catches in his eyes, and the smugness radiating off him is maddening.

You feel your cheeks flush—not just from the fire or the wine. He’s right; you’re not drunk. The wine has only left you feeling perfectly warm, relaxed and a little tingly. And, unfortunately, that buzz has also heightened your awareness of him—the way he’s watching you, the faint curve of his lips both infuriating and unbearably attractive. You grumble something unintelligible, sinking further into your blanket cocoon, but Sylus, with his insufferable smirk, isn’t about to let you escape the moment unscathed.

He rises gracefully from the rug and he strides toward the bedroom. You watch him go, the wine’s gentle buzz amplifying your anticipation.

What could it be?

Your first thought is lingerie—something delicate and lacy, designed to make you blush the moment you open it. A dress, perhaps? you wonder. But then you dismiss the idea with a shake of your head; Sylus has already gifted you a breathtaking dress for the holiday banquet earlier this season. Maybe it’s a ridiculous onesie, you think. A cat? A sheep? Something he’d insist you wear just to tease you mercilessly the entire night. The mental image makes your cheeks flush, not entirely from embarrassment—because, honestly, you’d probably wear it, just to see that rare, carefree laugh of his.

Before your thoughts spiral further, Sylus returns, with a small box in his hands. Your breath catches. The unmistakable blue hue and the satin white bow make your eyes widen. He settles down across from you, and holds the box out. His smiles softly. "One of the gifts I brought for you," he says. "I thought it fitting for the trip."

Your heart flutters as you accept the gift. You gently tug at the bow, setting aside the satin ribbon, and your fingers tremble slightly as you lift the lid of the box. Your smile stretches wide the moment you see the necklace nestled inside the box, a heart-shaped pendant glimmering in the room’s dim light. Joy bubbles up in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you lunge forward, wrapping Sylus in a tight hug.

"Thank you," you murmur against his shoulder.

His arms hold you firmly for a brief moment before you pull back just enough to plant a smooch on his lips, quick and filled with gratitude. He smiles against your lips, his hand brushing over your back before you settle back into your spot to admire the necklace again. You lift the chain, examining every detail of the stunning craftmanship. But as your eyes adjust to the dim light, you notice something different. Your brow furrows, and you tilt the pendant closer.

The usual engraving isn’t there.

Instead, in elegant script, you read: Please return to Onychinus N109 Zone.

Your heart flutters, the customization turning an already beautiful gift into something deeply personal.

Sylus notices your pause and leans forward slightly, his voice low and warm. "It felt more fitting this way."

You glance up at him, and all you can do is nod.

"Let me," he says softly, reaching for the necklace. You hand it to him, and he moves closer, draping the chain around your neck. His fingers brush against your skin as he fastens it, sending a small shiver down your spine. He leans back to admire his work, his eyes gleaming as they move from the pendant to your face.

"It suits you," he says.

"Thank you," you say again, your fingers brushing over the pendant, feeling its cool surface against your skin.

Sylus’ lips curl into a playful smirk as his gaze dips briefly to your outfit. "But those pajamas don’t really go with it."

You roll your eyes at the comment, but as you replay his words, you stop. Your eyes narrow in mock accusation. "Wait…"

Wear my gift for the rest of the night.

Your face heats, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coiling in your stomach as you glance down at the necklace. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the way his eyes haven’t left yours.

"I—" you start, but the words catch in your throat as he shifts closer to you.

Sylus’ hands move slowly to the hem of your pajama top, his fingertips delicately brushing against the fabric, his eyes locked on your face, waiting for your permission. Wordlessly, you lift your arms, and his lips quirk in a soft smile. He takes his time pulling the top over your head, the cool air of the room kissing your skin as it becomes bare. A shiver runs through you, goosebumps rising along your arms and chest as your pajama top is discarded.

"I’m going to be cold the rest of the night now," you pout, half-joking.

Sylus leans forward, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. When he pulls back, he whispers against your lips. "I’ll make sure you stay warm."

His words send a jolt of heat straight to your core as he guides you down, his weight pressing you into the soft blanket beneath. Your legs part instinctively, inviting him closer. Sylus hovers over you, his lips finding yours in a slow, intoxicating kiss. The faint taste of wine clings to him, rich and heady, as his tongue teases yours. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him deeper, needing him closer. He growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he rolls his hips, grinding his hardness against your craving heat.

The sudden pressure against your clothed pussy makes you gasp into his mouth, your body arching into him as you feel the hard length of him straining against the fabric of his pajamas. Sylus pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his red eyes dark with hunger, his lips slick and swollen from the kiss. The firelight flickers over his sharp features, making him look devastatingly irresistible. His hips roll against yours again, grinding just right, pulling a desperate gasp from your lips as heat pools deep in your core.

He leans in, his breath tickling your skin before he drags his lips slowly along your pulse, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses that make your body arch into him. His tongue flicks over your skin, tasting you, the scrape of his teeth making you shiver beneath him.

He shifts slightly, his mouth traveling lower, trailing kisses down to your chest. A soft moan escapes your lips when his lips capture the peak of one breast. His tongue swirls around your nipple, teasing before he takes it into his mouth, sucking gently. At the same time, his fingers find your other breast, kneading it with care, his thumb circling the sensitive bud, the attention making you arch into his touch.

"Sylus," you whisper, his name tumbling from your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair again, holding him close to you.

He hums in response, the vibration adding to the sensation as his mouth continues savoring your body. His free hand skims down your side, tracing every curve, every dip, before settling at your waist. He releases your breast with a soft, wet sound, his lips immediately finding your belly. Then, his kisses trail lower, each press of his mouth against your skin making your impatience grow, but his hands steady your hips as his lips linger just above the waistband of your pajama pants.

His eyes flick up to meet yours. The way he looks at you—hungry, tender, and utterly devoted—makes your breath catch. The heat pooling between your thighs becomes unbearable, your panties damp with need as you writhe beneath him.

Finally, Sylus hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants and underwear, pulling them down in one smooth motion. His tongue darts out to wet his lips when he takes in the sight of you, bare and ready for him. Sylus starts slow, savoring every moment as his lips plant tender kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

"You’re trembling," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider. "So responsive... so beautiful."

The warmth of his breath fans over your dripping pussy, teasing, as he lets his lips linger just close enough for you to feel the ghost of a touch. Finally, his mouth moves to where you need him most. His tongue flattens against your folds, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you gasp, your hips bucking instinctively toward his mouth. His tongue circles your clit, before his lips close around the swollen bundle of nerves, sucking gently at first, then harder as he finds the rhythm that makes your moans turn into cries.

One hand remains on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him, while the other slides up. His middle finger traces along your entrance, teasingly dipping in before retreating, then plunging back in, this time to the knuckle. He groans against your clit, as if the sensation of you gripping his finger drives him just as wild. He adds a second finger, his long digits stretching you, curling just right to press against your sweet spot. The dual sensation of his mouth and fingers has you writhing beneath him, drawing you closer to the edge. His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds mixing with your breathless cries.

Your thighs quiver, and he knows you’re close - his fingers curl deeper, pressing harder against that perfect spot as his lips suck your clit relentlessly. Your orgasm rips through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Your walls clamp around his fingers as your body arches off the rug, your cries filling the room as the pleasure pulses through every inch of you. Sylus doesn’t stop, prolonging your high as his tongue and fingers coax every last tremor of pleasure from your body until you’re trembling, gasping his name in broken, desperate whines.

Finally, he slows, withdrawing his fingers and pressing one last lingering kiss to your oversensitive clit, his lips curling into a smug smile as he looks up at you, his chin glistening with your release.

"My beautiful girl," he whispers, as he kisses the inside of your thigh one last time before sitting up. "All mine."

He takes off his pajama shirt, and in one fluid motion, he pulls off his pajama bottoms, leaving him completely bare. Your breath hitches at the sight of him, his cock thick, long, and hard. His eyes lock onto yours as he leans down, positioning himself between your legs. You gasp softly as the tip of his cock glides through your folds, his length sliding back and forth, coating himself in your mixed fluids. The sensation alone has you trembling, your legs instinctively parting wider for him.

Then, slowly, he presses against your entrance, the thick head of his cock stretching you as he begins to slide in, his eyes locked on you as your body takes in every inch. When he bottoms out, he pauses, his hips flush against yours, his cock buried deep. The sensation of being so completely filled sends waves of pleasure radiating through your body, leaving you gasping. His weight shifts as he lowers himself onto his elbows, bringing your bodies closer, his chest brushing against yours. He captures your lips in a slow kiss, making your head spin. His hips start to move, rolling against you in a languid rhythm drawing soft moans from you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel more of him, your heels digging into his lower back. Your hands slide up to his shoulders, your fingers pressing into the taut muscles as he moves. His cock drags against your walls with each thrust, hitting spots that leave you gasping into his mouth. He swallows every sound, his kiss growing more feverent, his breath ragged as his body molds against yours. His hips grind against yours, his cock pressing deeper, harder, as you cling to him, your nails digging into his back.

Sylus’ pace begins to slow, his hips rolling more languidly as his lips break from yours.

“I need you closer.” he murmurs.

Without waiting for a response, he shifts his weight, one arm wrapping securely around your waist as he leans to the side, taking you with him. You gasp softly as your bodies roll together, your legs untangling briefly before one of his slips between yours.

Now on your sides, your bodies are pressed together so tightly you can feel his heartbeat. His arm stays snug around your waist, pulling you even closer, while his other hand cradles the back of your head. Your chest presses against his, and your hands rest against him, one lightly squished between your bodies. The other moves instinctively to his neck, your fingertips feeling his warmth, his pulse. Your leg hooks over his hip instinctively, granting him better access as his hips begin to move again.

The new angle makes you moan, his cock hitting even deeper, the angle forcing you to take all of him, and you clutch at his neck, your nails grazing his skin.

"My love." he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple as you press your face into his chest, overwhelmed by the closeness, the way he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in his world.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your lips parting slightly. His eyes burn into yours, before his mouth captures yours in a deep, hungry kiss. The base of his cock presses perfectly against your clit with each thrust, the friction sending sparks of heat shooting through you. You’re helpless against the pleasure building inside, your breaths ragged and broken as his rhythm pushes you closer to the edge.

His hand on your back tightens, pulling you flush against him, the slick grind of his pelvis teasing that swollen, aching bud mercilessly. You arch into him, your nails digging into the hard muscle of his chest, and your gasps turn into needy, breathless cries.

“Just like that,” he rasps, his eyes stay locked on your face, devouring every flicker of pleasure that twists across your features. "Let me see you fall apart for me."

The way his cock fills you, stretching you with every roll of his hips, combined with the perfect pressure against your clit, is too much. Your body coils tighter, your thighs trembling where they’re hooked around his waist.

“Sylus…” you whimper, your voice trembling.

“Come for me,” he growls, one still cradling your head, the other pressing your back to him like he can’t stand even a breath of distance between you.

The tension inside you snaps, your body locks tight, your walls squeezing his cock with desperate intensity, milking him as a guttural moan escapes his throat. He thrusts into you harder, deeper, grinding his pelvis against your swollen clit, wringing every last pulse of pleasure from your throbbing pussy. Your cries fill the room, your entire body trembling in his arms. Sylus holds you through it all, his movements never faltering, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you as you ride out your high.

"That’s it." he murmurs tenderly, his gaze never leaving your face, memorizing the way you look in this moment—completely undone, completely his.

But he doesn’t stop - his hips keep rolling into you, his cock dragging against the oversensitive walls of your pussy, the friction is almost too much.

"You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice vibrating through his chest where you’re pressed tightly against him.

Your legs tremble, locked tight around his waist, keeping him buried deep. Sylus’ thrusts turn frantic, slamming into you harder, rougher, the sound of wet, filthy friction filling the room. His cock twitches inside you, driving deeper with every thrust.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost broken, as your name falls from his lips. His hand cups your face, fingers trembling as they stroke your cheek, grounding himself in the haze of his need.

His movements stutter, his cock throbbing, and with a guttural growl, he pushes into you one last time, spilling hot and thick cum inside you. His hips twitch helplessly, every pulse of his release sending a shudder through his body. He clings to you, forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged as he groans your name one last time.

His name escapes your lips in a soft, breathless moan, and he captures it in a searing kiss. The kiss slows as his movements still, the room filled with the sound of your mingled breathing and the faint crackle of the fire beside you. Sylus doesn’t pull away, his arms still wrapped around you, and you rest your head against his chest. His hands roam gently over your back and shoulders now, as if trying to soothe the tremble in your muscles. He kisses the top of your head before he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his fingertips grazing your cheek with a featherlight touch.

You nod with a soft smile.

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that feels entirely different from before—his mouth moves tenderly, as though memorizing the curve of your lips, savoring the taste, the warmth you offer. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin, grounding you both. When he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the stillness. His gaze, when it meets yours, is soft, filled with adoration. You could stay like this forever.

[mead-iocre]

Christmas Market | Alexia Putellas x Reader

summary: you should've listened to your girlfriend. part of the brat!reader universe.

warnings: just christmas fluff x

wc: 2.6 k words

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Christmas in Barcelona was your favourite time of year. The air was crisp, filled with the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts from street vendors. The city twinkled with holiday lights strung across the narrow streets, casting glows on the cobblestone sidewalks. The soft hum of festive music played from cafés, mingling with the distant laughter of people out to celebrate the holiday. 

You and Alexia stepped out of the grand, ivy-clad restaurant. The clink of champagne glasses and the hum of conversation followed you as you pushed open the door, the cold air of the city enveloping you immediately. 

Dressed in a black velvet body-con mini dress, black lace stockings, and your new pair of christian louboutin heels, you looked good. Looking over at your girlfriend, you bite your bottom lip as you take in the sight of her.

Alexia was wearing the black halter top that you loved on her-- they showed off her lovely shoulders and arms. Her hair was slicked back in a neat ponytail, granting you full access to admire her face the entire evening. 

And you did, much to your lover's embarrassment. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

"You look good, baby" 

Alexia rolled her eyes, but a slight blush coated her cheeks. She playfully glared at you from across the table, shuffling in her seat. She mutters a quiet "stop it.”, but there was no malice in her tone. 

You laugh. She was so easy to rile up and annoy. And unfortunately for her, you enjoyed seeing her grumpy. It was hot.  

Uncrossing your legs, you extend one until they lightly caressed the side of her trousers. Alexia's head snapped up from the menu she was looking at, raising one eyebrow at you.

You ignore it, pointedly looking down at your own menu. 

Your black patent calfskin-covered foot continues it's passage up and up until it just about grazes your lovers lap. 

But the journey was cut short by a hand grabbing your ankle, stilling you completely.

You pout at her from across the table, your freshly applied lipgloss gleaming under the dim overhead flights. You smirk when you notice Alexia's eyes dropping to your bottom lip. As easy as she was to rile up, she was also easy to seduce. 

"Quit it" She mutters, squeezing the foot in her hand. She adjusts in her seat, letting your foot rest more comfortably across her thigh. You shift your foot from her hold slightly, just a little to the left, earning a hard look from her before she moves your foot to rest in a more appropriate place on her lap. “brat”

She clears her throat. "Vale, have you chosen?" 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The Christmas lights upholstered on nearby buildings danced in the soft glow of the evening. The faint sound of a guitar strummed in the distance.

Dinner was delicious. 

But you weren't ready for the night to end just yet. Alexia has been so busy with work lately, preparing for the last stretch of games for the year. Practice has been longer, she's had post-practice meetings to attend, and you've been bored at home with no one to annoy. You wanted to spend as much time with your girlfriend tonight before she inevitably has to go back to focusing on football.

You shift the weight on your feet. Louboutin heels. Classic. Stunning. But at this point, they were starting to feel like a form of slow torture. You had insisted on wearing them tonight, not because they were the most comfortable choice, but because they looked perfect with your lace stockings.

And you certainly did not mind the look of approval from your girlfriend when you slipped them on earlier that night. 

"Shall I order an Uber?" Alexia came up from behind you, reaching into her pocket for her phone, but you stop her. 

"Wait. Let's go to the Christmas Market" 

Her head snaps towards you, an expression of utter disbelief in her face. “The market-- bebe, ya es tarde. It’s late” 

She gestures towards you feet with a flick of her chin. “And you’re wearing heels" 

But you were stubborn. And as soon as you made up your find, it was hard to steer you away from it. 

”Come onnn. It’s not that far." You plead at her. You pull out your phone, typing in "christmas market near me" in google maps. A few options pop up, and the nearest one was a 10 minute walk from the restaurant. "See. It's only a 10 minute walk" 

“Bebe,” An arm clutches your elbow. “you’re wearing your new heels”

"So? I walk in heels all the time”

Alexia groans, massaging her temple. She’s been told most of her life that she was as stubborn as a mule, but she swears you are the most stubborn person she has ever met. 

“Si. Fine. But I don’t want to hear you complaining when your feet hurt because of those heels”

"Fine." You turn away, head down, focused on the google map directions. Your heels clicking sharply as you strut in the direction that the arrow is pointing towards. 

Alexia can only sigh and shake her head, quickly jogging over to catch up with you. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You walked on through the festive streets, the Christmas lights now casting a soft light as you wander through the different stalls. Hand in hand, the air felt even colder against your cheeks.

For a moment, you were far too entranced by all the sights to focus on the pain pulsing from your feet. About 5 minutes into your walk to the Christmas market, you felt the pinching in your feet. For a while you could ignore it.

But now the pain came charging back.

Your jaw was set in that familiar stubborn line, and you were less talkative than usual. Your girlfriend, on the other hand, was happily admiring the market stalls, her eyes scanning all there was to see. There were stalls for handcrafted ornaments, delicate glass figurines, and hand-knitted scarves. 

Ahead, a golden carousel spun gently, its colours vivid against the evening sky. Laughter from children and muted conversations were the only sounds that filled the air. You grabbed the Barcelona captain’s hand and tugged her closer to the carousel, your face lit up with excitement at the thought of being off your feet for a minute or two. “Let’s ride the carousel”

Alexia laughed, shaking her head. But she let you pull her towards the ticket booth for the carousel. “Estar loco— Vale. Let’s go”

You made their way to the carousel, slipping into a pair of loveseat carriage. The lights of the market twinkled around you as the carousel begun to take you for a ride.

The fact that you were temporarily relived of the pain in your feet as you sat beside your lover was a bonus.

As the carousel spun, you shared laughs and smiles, the world outside of your little bubble fading away. It was one of those rare moments in life when everything felt right—the perfect combination of place, time, and heart. 

Alexia took out her phone from her pocket, snapping a few photos of you and then turning the phone so it can capture the both of you. Alexia scooted closer so she can rest her cheek against yours for a photo. She smelled good. A mix of something warm, sweet, and achingly familiar—like a fire burning low, above roasted chestnuts and sticks of sweet vanilla.

“hace frio”

You turn your head to look at her, not hearing her clearly the first time. “hm?”

Alexia puts her phone back into her pocket before she brings her hands up to her mouth. She rubs her palms together, blowing warm air into them, before she brings her hands to your cheeks. She gently holds your face between her palms, her hands providing some much needed warmth from the bite of the cold. “your cheeks are cold, mi amor”

Pretty hazel eyes meet yours. You could see her own cheeks start to turn rosy, but here she was warming yours. 

“My lips are cold too” 

Alexia bites her lower lip, her eyes dropping to your lips. She brings you closer, gently tilting your head. “We wouldn’t want that, huh?”

Soft, plump lips meet yours. The cold was the least of your worries. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

After the carousel, you both decided to wander through the rest of the market. 

You hated to admit it but your feet were really starting to hurt. 

Glancing down at your feet, you wince slightly as another sharp wave of discomfort shot up your legs.

But there was no way you were telling Alexia. She will probably have that annoyingly attractive smirk on her face the entire way home, and the last thing you needed right now was a gloating girlfriend. 

You mask the flash of pain threatening to spill on your face. 

Then, you caught the whiff of the aroma of warm chocolate. You both followed the scent, winding through the market until you reached a little stall tucked between the old stone buildings. It was decorated simply but beautifully—festive red and gold ribbons, a sign that read “Chocolate Caliente con Brandy” in a looping script, and snowflakes delicately painted on the wooden cart.

You approached the stall, where the vendor—a cheerful older man with a wide grin—greeted you. "¡Buenas noches, chicas! Hot chocolate?”

“Si, we’ll take two, por favor" You were hoping the little bit of alcohol would numb the pain swelling in your feet. It felt like your toes were being put through a meat grinder. “I’ll have two shots of Brandy in mine, please” 

You ignore the eyebrow raise Alexia shot you from your peripheral. 

The vendor nodded and got to work, carefully pouring thick, rich chocolate from a large pot, adding a dash of brandy in one mug, before doubling it for yours. He hands over the two steaming mugs. You accepted the cup, the warmth spreading through your hands.

You wished it was your feet that was getting relief though.

You brought it to your lips and took a sip. It was exactly what you needed—silky smooth, indulgently sweet, with just the right amount of kick. You hoped the alcohol would numb the growing pain in your feet. Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you hoped Alexia wouldn’t notice.

You watch from the rim of your mug as your girlfriend tries a bit of the hot chocolate. She takes a sip and beams at you, throwing up an uncharacteristic thumbs up which you laugh at, briefly ignoring the pinching feeling in your feet. 

“Let’s go,” She asks, taking another sip of her hot chocolate as gestures towards the other colourful stalls. “There’s more to see” 

You grit your teeth. The last thing you wanted was to keep in walking even further from the entrance of the market. You were both already so deep inside the market, engulfed in the crowd of market-goers and cosy stalls. The thought of having to walk back on uneven, cobblestone grounds in these heels just to leave made you want to throw up. 

But you were stubborn. 

And you weren’t about to willingly admit that Alexia was right. 

You knew that if she found out that you were in pain, she’ll immediately drag you home. You weren’t ready to let the night end just yet. 

With a deep breath, which you try to mask as naturally as possible, you give her a tight-lipped smile and take one step forward. You could feel the heels digging into the arch of your foot, your toes squished together. 

Ouch. 

Bloody fucking hell. 

You were going to throw these shoes out the window as soon as you got home.

Sipping your hot chocolate, you clench your jaw as you eye the uneven, cobblestone path ahead. As you walked a few paces, trying your hardest to focus on the twinkling Christmas lights, you failed to notice Alexia’s glances at your feet.

Truthfully, she noticed your discomfort earlier on. She had been keeping an eye out and watching your step for you to make sure you don’t trip. 

She knew that you wanted to spend as much time with her before she had to focus on work. While she would’ve loved to see you break first and admit that she was right about your painful heels, she hates seeing you in pain more. 

“I swear, I can see your expression changing from 'wow the lights are so pretty' to 'I’m in fucking pain' every time we stop.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “No, I’m fine,” you said quickly, flashing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You threw your empty mug of hot chocolate in the bin.

All of a sudden, you feel a hand gently tug you by the crook of your elbow. You wordlessly let her drag you to a spot behind one of the stalls. You were just about to open your mouth and ask her why she dragged you to a secluded spot like a serial killer would, when all of a sudden your girlfriend turns around and crouches down in front of you. 

“Que? What are you doing?” You blinked in surprise.

Alexia smirks, before gesturing at her back. “Piggyback ride,” she said, with the same mischievous grin. "You’ve been too stubborn to tell me, and you probably won’t admit it.”

“Admit what—?” You start but shut your mouth as soon as Alexia gives you a knowing look. Fuck.

“Stubborn girl. C’mom, get on” For a moment, you were speechless, caught off guard by how she could possibly know. You considered playing it off.

But the thought of walking another step in those heels was almost unbearable.

She reached back to grab your hands and help you onto her back. With one swift motion, you were hoisted up effortlessly. You couldn’t help but grin.

Having an athlete girlfriend definitely had it’s perks. 

Your feet, now happily relieved, dangled as Alexia began to walk through the market, the cool night air against your face, the warmth of your lover beneath you (in a different way). 

The Catalan glanced back with a teasing smile. “Better?"

"Much better," you admitted, your voice light and happy. "I think I could get used to this.”

"I knew it," She said with a soft laugh, settling you a little higher on her back, making sure you were comfortable. “I told you those heels would hurt”

“I never said that,” You reply, wrapping your arms tighter around Alexia. You leaned your head against hers, whispering in her ear. “What if I just wanted a piggyback ride” 

“Whatever you say, mi amor”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

The crisp air was filled with the scents of roasted chestnuts and pin. The gentle sway of your girlfriend’s movements was unsurprisingly steady. You leaned your head against her shoulder, the warmth of her body almost as comforting as the hot chocolate that you were sipping on earlier.

“You know,” You murmured, glancing up at the twinkling lights above them, “I should wear these heels more often.”

Alexia paused in her stride, turning her head to look at you. She had that wrinkle between her eyebrows that you so loved. “What— so you can endure the pain again?”

“No,” You chide softly, snugging your face into the crook of her neck. The soft knit of her coat hung loosely on her frame, exposing just enough of her neck to tempt you closer. You press a kiss to the skin where her neck meets her collarbone.

“So you can piggyback me more often”

She laughs at that, throwing her head back and all. Her hand gently stroked your leg. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride anytime, bebe. As long as you’re nice to me” 

You tickle her neck in response.

Soon you pass a stall selling charming hand-carved wooden reindeers. People were milling around, laughing and enjoying the festive atmosphere. 

Leaning down to whisper in her ear, ”You’re sure you’re not getting tired? You’ve been carrying me for a while now.”

Your lover raised an eyebrow, the playful glint in her hazel eyes unmistakable. “What, you think I can’t handle a few pounds of gorgeous woman?”

“Well you have been slacking on the pitch lately— ow” A pinch to your ass. 

Alexia adjusted her hold on you, and started walking towards the exit gates of the market. 

“Shut up. Or else I will drop you, brat” 

happy new year, my loves!

thank you for being one of the best parts of my 2024 x

read more brat!reader stories here

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[moonlightwritingf1]

The accidental spark | LN4

🧣 summary ━━━━━━━ During a snowy Christmas getaway, Y/N and Lando’s constant bickering hides unspoken tension. A heated argument in the snow leads to an accidental kiss, revealing deeper feelings.

🧣pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

🧣 word count ━━━━━━━ 1.1k

Snowflakes drifted down lazily, blanketing the streets and rooftops in a layer of soft white. The small mountain town was glowing with festive charm, its cobblestone streets lined with twinkling lights and garlands of evergreen. Y/N tugged her coat tighter around her, her breath fogging in the crisp air as she trudged through the snow. She could hear faint carols from the town square and smell the inviting scent of roasting chestnuts.

She didn’t want to think about the beachside chalet, the holiday getaway that had seemed like a dream before Lando Norris started tagging along. Their group of friends had planned a peaceful Christmas retreat, but sharing a roof with Lando had turned out to be more like a nightmare.

"Y/N!" A familiar voice called behind her, the irritation unmistakable.

She stopped in her tracks, her boots crunching against the snow. Turning, she found Lando jogging toward her, his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, a cocky grin plastered across his face.

“What do you want, Lando?” she asked, sighing heavily.

“Just wondering why you’re running off alone,” he replied, catching up to her. “You planning to avoid everyone tonight or just me?”

She rolled her eyes. “I needed some air, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Of course, it’s not,” he said, falling into step beside her. “But you seem awfully grumpy for someone who’s supposed to be enjoying Christmas.”

“Maybe I’d be in a better mood if I wasn’t constantly stuck dealing with you,” she snapped, the sharpness of her tone matching the cold wind.

“Ah, there it is,” he said, unfazed. “The holiday cheer I’ve come to expect from you.”

She glared at him. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?”

“Nope,” he said with a shrug, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

Her frustration boiled over. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet, you’re still talking to me,” he shot back, his smirk growing wider.

She groaned, turning on her heel to walk away, but he caught her wrist gently, pulling her to a stop.

“Hey, wait,” he said, his voice softer now. “I didn’t mean to push you. I just... I wanted to check on you.”

Her irritation faltered, replaced by confusion. “Why do you even care?”

His expression shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Maybe I care more than you think.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly shook her head, unwilling to fall into whatever game he was playing.

“Don’t,” she said firmly, pulling her wrist free. “Whatever this is, just stop.”

“What do you mean, ‘this’?” he asked, stepping closer.

“This... back-and-forth,” she said, gesturing between them. “You act like I’m some sort of challenge to win, and I’m sick of it.”

His brow furrowed, the teasing smile fading. “Is that really what you think?”

“What else am I supposed to think, Lando?” she asked, her voice rising. “You never take anything seriously, least of all me.”

“I take you seriously,” he said, his voice low but firm.

She let out a bitter laugh, crossing her arms. “Right. That’s why you spend all your time making me feel like I’m just here for your amusement.”

He stepped closer, his expression intense. “You’re not here for my amusement.”

“Then what am I here for?” she demanded, her chest tightening with frustration and something she couldn’t name.

He hesitated, his jaw working as he struggled for words. “You’re here because... because I want you to be.”

Her breath caught, and for a moment, she was too stunned to respond. The snow fell softly around them, the world feeling suddenly still.

“You want me to be?” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” he said, his gaze locked on hers.

The weight of his words hung between them, and before she could process what was happening, he leaned in slightly, their faces just inches apart. Her breath hitched, and she stepped back instinctively, but the movement brought her foot onto an icy patch.

She slipped, and he moved quickly, his arms catching her before she could fall.

“Careful,” he murmured, his face so close to hers that she could feel his warmth despite the chill.

And then, it happened.

It wasn’t intentional. It wasn’t planned. But as he steadied her, their lips brushed—just the faintest touch, but enough to send a jolt through her.

She pulled back quickly, her cheeks flushing. “That wasn’t—”

“Planned?” he finished for her, his voice soft.

She nodded, her heart racing. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“Didn’t it?” he asked, his tone teasing but his eyes serious.

“It was an accident,” she insisted, refusing to meet his gaze.

“If it was an accident,” he said, stepping closer, “then why do you look like you’re about to run away?”

“I’m not running away,” she said defensively.

He tilted his head, studying her. “If you’re feeling brave, you’ll do it again.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “You’re insufferable.”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, his smirk returning. “But you’re still standing here.”

Her chest tightened, her mind racing. She wanted to argue, to deny the pull she felt toward him, but the look in his eyes stopped her. It wasn’t teasing, not entirely. There was something deeper there, something raw and real that she couldn’t ignore.

“Lando...” she started, her voice faltering.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I’m not playing games. I swear. I just... I don’t know how to do this. With you.”

Her heart softened at the vulnerability in his words, and she sighed, letting her defenses lower.

“I don’t know how to do this either,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

They stood there in silence for a moment, the snow falling gently around them. And then, without thinking, she leaned in, her lips finding his in a kiss that was anything but accidental.

This time, it was deliberate.

His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened, the world around them fading away. When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathless.

“That didn’t feel like an accident,” he said, his voice tinged with humor and awe.

“No,” she admitted, a small smile playing on her lips. “It didn’t.”

He grinned, his arms tightening around her. “Does this mean we’re done pretending to hate each other?”

She laughed softly, the sound filled with relief. “Maybe. But don’t think this means I’m going to start going easy on you.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, his eyes shining with warmth.

And as the snow continued to fall and the distant sound of carols filled the air, they stood together, the tension between them finally melting away, leaving only the beginning of something new.

[insidekatmind]

Christmas in New York- Jobe Bellingham

wearning: +18,smut

It was a cold Christmas Eve in New York. The snow slowly fell from the grey sky, covering the streets with a soft white mantle. The colorful and glittering lights adorned every window, and the air was permeated by the scent of roasted chestnuts and hot chocolate.

You and Jobe Bellingham walked hand in hand down Fifth Avenue, wrapped up in your heavy coats. He wore an elegant black coat with a grey scarf framing his face, while you were wrapped in a beige coat with a soft wool hat covering your ears. Jobe turned to look at you with a sweet and mischievous smile.

"I can’t believe we’re here together," he said, shaking your hand and approaching you. "New York at Christmas is just like in the movies."

"Yeah," you replied, leaning your head on his shoulder as you kept walking. "But it wouldn’t be the same without you."

He stopped suddenly, holding you by the hand and turning you towards him. His warm hands laid on your cold cheeks.

"Don’t even joke," he muttered, staring at you with his dark eyes full of sweetness. "This Christmas is special only because you are there."

You felt yourself melt like snow under the sun. His words were sincere, and the warmth of his gaze made you forget the bitter cold.

"You’re too sweet, Bellingham," you said, your cheeks turning red, perhaps from the cold or perhaps from the fast-paced beat of your heart.

"And you are too beautiful to be true," he replied, bending over to rub his lips against your. The kiss was slow and gentle, but at the same time full of feeling. The noise of the city around you seemed to disappear for a moment.

"Shall we go see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center?" you proposed with a smile when you parted. His lips curled into a complicit smile.

"Only if we can take a picture like those sappy tourists kissing under the tree," joked Jobe, but there was a shadow of sincerity in his voice.

"Deal done," you laughed, and together you headed to the Rockefeller Center.

The crowd was huge, all with their eyes up to the imposing Christmas tree illuminated by thousands of colorful lights. You let yourself be enchanted by the show, shaking Jobe’s hand more strongly.

"It’s beautiful," you whisper, your eyes shining with wonder.

"Not as much as you," he replied, looking at you instead of the tree. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and when you turned towards him, Jobe stared at you with an intensity that left you speechless.

"Let’s stop with the compliments, Bellingham, or I might start to believe it," you tried to joke around to hide your embarrassment, but he shook his head, a clever smile painted on his face.

"Do it. Believe it. Because every word is true." His hands again placed themselves on your cheeks, touching them with their thumbs. "May I kiss you again?" He asked with a sweet expression, but his eyes revealed something deeper.

"Why do you ask again? You have my permanent permission," you whispered, and he chuckled before bending down and kissing you again, this time with more passion. His arms wrapped around you, clinging to his warm chest.

People around you applauded and laughed, but neither of them noticed. You only came off when the breath was short, and Jobe looked at you with a satisfied smile.

"Now we look like those sappy tourists," he said laughing.

"And it’s beautiful," you replied, leaning your head against his chest.

Later that night, you returned to your hotel. The room was warm and welcoming, with a small decorated Christmas tree by the window. Jobe closed the door behind him and stared at you with a look that made you shiver.

"You know what?" he said, slowly approaching. "I think this is the best Christmas of my life."

"Why?" you asked, stepping back, but smiling.

"Because I have everything I want right here in front of me." He took another step forward, until your back touched the edge of the bed. His hands laid on your hips, holding you with a gentle but firm grip. "And I don’t want to lose a second without you."

You felt your heart beat in your chest, and his lips found yours with a sweetish overwhelming. His hands moved slowly along your hips, his fingers drawing imaginary lines on the soft fabric of your dress. You felt every touch like a spark of heat.

"Jobe," you murmured against his lips, but he did not let you finish.

"Yes, love?" he replied in a low, husky voice, kissing your jaw and then your neck, where he knew you were most sensitive.

"Promise me one thing," I said, breathing hard.

"Anything," he answered without hesitation.

"Promise me that every Christmas will be like this," you said, looking for his eyes with yours.

"No, love," he said with a smile that made you miss a heartbeat. "Every Christmas will be even more beautiful."

You smiled and kissed him, and he immediately returned the favor. " I love you doll" said Jobe near your lips and you smiled giving him a kiss to the mold. "I love too"

His dark eyes twinkled as his hands drew you closer, as if he could not bear even a centimeter of distance between you. His lips returned to seek yours, this time with a passion that made you tremble. There was nothing more delicate: the kiss became intense, deep, full of desire. His hands, first resting on your hips, moved with exasperating slowness, tracing the curve of your back, while your fingers intertwined between his hair, drawing him even closer.

The room seemed to fade around you. There was no more city noise or Christmas lights reflecting off the walls. There was only him, the warmth of his body against yours, and the way his lips seemed to explore you with an unstoppable hunger. He kissed you as if he were the first and last time, with an intensity that left you breathless.

His fingers stopped on the edge of your dress, barely touching your skin, and that simple touch made you shudder. You felt his lips detach from yours only for a moment, just the time to look at you with a look that spoke more than a thousand words. "You’re so beautiful," he muttered in a husky voice, his breath irregular as his thumb drew a gentle line on your cheek.

"Jobe..." his name slipped away as a whisper, while he smiled, that smile you knew so well, full of sweetness and desire. He didn’t wait for you to continue: he bent down again, capturing your lips with such intensity that you felt your heart beat wildly. His hands, now more secure, lifted you slightly, making you slide on the bed as his body followed yours perfectly synchronised.

The fabric of his sweater was rough under your hands as you pulled it closer, your bodies seeming to find a way to match perfectly. His kisses fell down your jaw, to your neck, where his lips lingered, leaving you breathless. Each kiss was like a promise, a secret shared between you two.

"I don’t want to stop," he whispered against your skin, his voice low and charged with emotion. His warm breath caressed you, and his words made you smile as you looked at him with eyes full of confidence and desire.

"Don’t stop," you replied, pulling him back towards you, ready to live every second of that moment that seemed only made of magic and warmth.

Jobe looked at you with a new light in his eyes, as if all the control he had tried to maintain until then had vanished. His breath was warm and irregular, his pupils dilated as his eyes fixated in yours. He didn’t say a word, but the way his hands slowly fell down your hips was enough to make you understand what was about to happen.

He leaned towards you, his lips brushed your neck with exasperating delicacy, almost as if he was savoring every inch of skin. Then, without warning, he began to kiss you with more force, more passion. Each kiss was a mix of sweetness and desire. His lips moved firmly against your skin, leaving a trail of heat behind.

His warm breath stopped right at the groove between the neck and shoulder, and at that instant his teeth touched your skin. You were out of breath for a moment, fingers instinctively sank into his chest, feeling the strong and constant beat under the palm of your hand. Your nails drew a slow line along the fabric of his mesh, following the contours of his muscles.

"Jobe..." his name escaped you like a whisper, more like a prayer than a simple call. He just lifted his face, looking at you with a look that sent a jolt down your back.

"Say my name again," he murmured, his voice so low and stinging that it gave you the shivers. Before I could even answer, he attacked your jaw again with slower but incredibly intense kisses. Every time his lips closed on your skin, he left a small pink sign that darkened slowly, unmistakable proof of his presence on you.

"Jobe," you repeated with a whisper, closing your eyes as his lips stopped under your ear, where your breath was faster. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your fingertips drawing slow circles on his chest. You could feel every muscle under the tissue, the solidity of his body against yours.

"So, my love," he muttered, never taking his lips off your skin. "I want to hear it again." His voice was low, full of sweet authority that made you shiver down your back.

His hands slid to your back, pressing you further into him, as if trying to eliminate any space between you. Every touch he made was slow but firm, and every kiss on your neck brought with it a jolt of heat. You felt light-headed, like the whole world was a blur except him.

“Jobe…” you whispered again, and the way he groaned against your skin made your legs feel weak.

"I like it when you say my name like that," he confessed, his lips now resting on your shoulder, his teeth pressing lightly, leaving another sign that you knew would stay there for a while. "It’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard."

Your heart was beating like crazy, and as your fingers kept stroking his chest, he lifted his face, his dark eyes that were looking for yours with a hunger that left you breathless. "I will not let you go tonight," he said, his voice that was a promise and a sweet threat at the same time.

"Who said I want to go?" you replied with a cheeky smile, letting your eyes gaze upon hers. He smiled slowly, looked down again at your lips and, without hesitation, caught them in a kiss so deep and passionate that the world ceased to exist for you.

Jobe smiled and then he started to strip you off, and you did the same thing with him. He smiled as you were naked under him. " So beautiful baby" he muttered and then kissed your belly and you made little sighs. You moaned and then felt his tongue in your pussy, making it squirt. At first he was mocking you around putting his tongue in and out and you were moaning wanting more.

You raised your hips for more friction and pulled his hair. " Jobe please" you muttered and he smiled and started making out with your pussy as if it was his favorite dessert.

Jobe started licking your pussy and eating it like a hungry man and this made you squirm with pleasure, you moaned his name as a prayer and he was fucking your pussy with his tongue so well that you couldn’t even feel your own pussy anymore.

"continue like this please" you screamed with pleasure and Jobe satisfied you. Your legs were shaking and about to close from too much pleasure. You could feel your high coming, Jobe squeezes your legs to keep them from closing and you keep moaning and screaming as you pulled his hair making him moan into your pussy and this sent the vibrations and made you rub your pussy on his face.

"Let’s go baby don’t close these beautiful legs, I’ve just started" whispered Jobe near your pussy and you cry with pleasure.

It was making you feel so good that you couldn’t even think anymore, you just thought about the pleasure you were feeling. Your eyes were rolling back as you opened your mouth moaning at his name, like a song. You pushed your hips more on his face and tightened his hair to bring it closer to your pussy.

"What a good girl" Jobe muttered as you cum in his face.

He leaves you a kiss on your pussy and then slowly moves away and looks at you and smiles at your face with such a fucked up expression.

You looked at him and moaned as he was hot with your cum on his face and tried to pull it to you to kiss him and he smiled back. When you broke off, you caressed his curls. " the best Christmas of my life" you whispered and he smiled, bringing his lips back to yours with a sweetness that contrasted the urgency of a few minutes before. It was a slow, deep kiss, as if he wanted to savour every moment. His hands went up your back, pressing against him, the heat of your bodies that did not seem to fade.

"I can’t get enough of you," he whispered against your lips, interrupting the kiss just to look into your eyes. His thumbs touched the sides of your face, his gentle and reassuring touch. "No matter how much he has you, it will never be enough."

Your heart lost a beat, his words that settled in your chest like a sweet melody. You looked at him, trying to hide the smile that threatened to bloom on your lips. "You’re a real romantic Jobe Bellingham" you said to him, leaning your forehead against his.

"Just for you," he replied with a half smile, pressing another sweet kiss on your nose, then one on your jaw, and finally back on your lips.

His fingers kept caressing your hips, and the way his thumb drew lazy lines on your skin made you feel a comfortable and familiar warmth. It made you feel safe. Every kiss, every caress, was like saying "you are mine" without needing words. And at that moment, you knew you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else enjoying Christmas.

[0omillo0]

Seungmin angst/comfort where he is confronted in public about is relationship with Y/N and brushes it off and it really hurts Y/N’s feelings to where they feel like he doesn’t care about them.

A Quiet Love — Seungmin x (gn) Reader 김승민

Seungmin and Y/N had always prided themselves on their quiet love. It wasn’t the kind that sought attention or demanded validation from the world. Their relationship existed in the spaces between: shared glances, stolen smiles, and the warm silence of simply being together. While others might have needed grand gestures, they found solace in the simplicity of knowing they had each other.

But sometimes, simplicity comes with its own challenges.

It started as an ordinary day. The two had decided to step out for a walk, something they rarely did together in public. The chilly breeze carried the scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby street vendor, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile as Seungmin tugged his cap lower to shield himself from curious onlookers.

“You’re so paranoid,” Y/N teased, their voice soft.

Seungmin chuckled, the sound light and comforting. “Just being careful,” he said, his hand brushing against Y/N’s briefly before retreating back into his pocket.

The day unfolded naturally—an unhurried stroll through the city, a stop at a tiny café that Y/N loved, and easy conversations about nothing in particular. They were both relaxed, their usual guardedness melting away in the anonymity of the crowd.

But as they stood in line for coffee, the tranquility shattered.

“Hey, aren’t you Seungmin from Stray Kids?”

The voice was curious, yet probing. A stranger stood before them, their eyes darting between Seungmin and Y/N. “And is this��� your lover?” they asked, their tone laced with interest.

Seungmin stiffened slightly, his polite smile returning out of habit. “Uh, no what… I don’t even know them.” His voice was calm, composed, and practiced.

The stranger seemed to get the hint, offering an awkward laugh before mumbling something about being a fan and walking away.

Y/N stood frozen, the brief exchange replaying in their mind. Seungmin’s words were dismissive, almost clinical, it stung in ways Y/N hadn’t expected.

They pushed the feeling aside, determined not to let it ruin the day. But as the hours passed, the ache grew, a quiet doubt settling in their chest. Did Seungmin care about their relationship? Or was he so focused on protecting his image that their love was something he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—acknowledge? Were they really a stranger to him?

By the time they returned to their shared apartment, Y/N could no longer keep their emotions bottled up. As Seungmin set the coffee cups down on the counter, humming softly to himself, Y/N’s voice broke through the silence.

“Seungmin,” they said, barely above a whisper. “Can we talk?”

He turned to face them, immediately sensing the tension. “Of course. What’s wrong?”

Y/N hesitated, their fingers twisting nervously. “It’s about earlier. At the café.”

Seungmin frowned, replaying the moment in his mind. “What about it?”

“When that person asked about us… about me,” Y/N began, their voice shaking, “you said you didn’t even know me. Like it wasn’t important. Like I wasn’t important. I know you have to keep it secret.. but it hurt.. in some ways.”

His expression softened, concern flooding his eyes. “Y/N, that’s not true—”

“Then why didn’t you just say yes?” Y/N interrupted, their voice cracking. “Why couldn’t you just tell them the truth? Are you embarrassed to be with me?”

Seungmin’s eyes widened in alarm. “What? No! Y/N, I’m not embarrassed—”

“Then what is it?” Y/N pressed, tears slipping down their cheeks now. “I get that you want to keep things private, but sometimes it feels like you’re hiding me. Like I’m not enough for you to be proud of.”

The words hit Seungmin like a punch to the gut. He stared at them, guilt and regret swirling in his chest. “Y/N,” he said softly, stepping closer. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize how that made you feel. I thought I was protecting us, but I see now that I was wrong.”

Y/N sniffled, their arms wrapping around themselves protectively. “I just want to feel like I matter to you. Like we matter.”

“You do,” Seungmin said, his voice thick with emotion. He reached out, gently cupping Y/N’s face in his hands. “You matter more than anything to me. I love you, Y/N. I love us. And I’m sorry I made you feel otherwise.”

Y/N looked up at him, their tear-filled eyes searching his face for sincerity. They found it in the way his brows knit together in concern, in the quiver of his lips as he spoke, and in the warmth of his touch.

“I’m not good at expressing myself sometimes,” Seungmin admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I care so much, Y/N. I’ll do better, I promise. I’ll show you every day how much you mean to me.”

He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to their forehead. The gesture was so full of love and remorse that Y/N couldn’t help but collapse into his embrace, their arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

“I just don’t want to feel like I’m in this alone,” they murmured against his chest.

“You’re not,” Seungmin assured them, his voice steady and resolute. “You never will be. I’ll stand up for us, for you, from now on. I’ll make sure you always feel loved and cherished.”

In the warmth of his arms, Y/N felt the doubt and hurt begin to fade. They knew that their relationship wouldn’t always be perfect—there would be challenges, missteps, and misunderstandings. But as long as they had moments like this, moments of honesty and reconciliation, they knew their love would endure.

That night, as they sat together on the couch, Seungmin laced his fingers with Y/N’s and whispered, “I’ll never let you feel like you’re anything less than my everything.”

taglist @intartaruginha @hannamoon143 @inlovewithstraykids @whoa-jo @madirye062 @vixensss @sseawavee @emilyywhyy @halfwinterhalfuniverse @velvetmoonlght @flourishmoon

[acesofspadess]

Christmas Ribbon 🎄

12 days of Mix-Mas // Day 3

Charles Leclerc x reader

warnings: mild bondage, Charles being terrible at wrapping gifts,

summary: after a walk through the Monaco Christmas Market, Charle bad wrapping skills leave you wrapped up

a/n: my requests are still open during this special so if there is something you want me to write send it!!

The streets of Monaco were aglow with holiday magic, the Christmas market tucked neatly into the heart of the city. Every building and stall seemed draped in sparkling lights, garlands of evergreen, and hints of crimson ribbon. The scent of mulled wine, roasted chestnuts, and sugary confections filled the cool evening air, wrapping the city in a festive charm. Charles’s fingers laced with yours as he led you through the bustling market, his smile impossibly bright and his cheeks tinged pink—from the chill, or maybe from the excitement he clearly felt.

“See? This is the best part of Christmas in Monaco,” he said, gesturing to the glowing Ferris wheel in the distance and the stalls overflowing with trinkets and treats. His voice carried the warmth of the season itself, his accent curling around every word in a way that made your heart melt.

“I can see why you insisted on coming here tonight,” you teased, though you couldn’t deny the charm of it all. It was beautiful, and the twinkle in his eye only made it better.

“Wait here,” Charles said suddenly, steering you toward a bench near a vendor. You watched as he disappeared into the crowd, returning moments later with two steaming cups of mulled wine.

“Here,” he said, handing you one, his gloved fingers brushing against yours.

You took a sip, the warmth spreading through you instantly. “Mmm, this is perfect,” you murmured, glancing up at him.

“The night’s just getting started,” he promised, his grin widening. “And we’re not leaving until you try at least three different pastries. Deal?”

“Deal,” you laughed, letting him lead you to a stall showcasing an array of golden, sugar-dusted delights.

Charles picked out a selection, his enthusiasm contagious. He broke off a piece of a flaky pastry and held it out to you. “Here, try this one.”

You leaned in, taking the bite from his hand. The sweetness melted on your tongue, and you let out a soft hum of approval. “That’s amazing.”

“I told you,” he said smugly, popping a piece into his own mouth.

You wandered the market together, sharing bites of pastries and sneaking kisses whenever you thought no one was looking. Charles stopped to point out decorations he thought you’d like, his excitement growing every time he discovered something new.

“Look,” he said, pulling you toward a small stall selling Santa hats. “Should we get matching ones?”

“We’d look ridiculous,” you replied, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Exactly,” he said, already handing over the money for two hats.

By the time you decided to head home, your stomachs were full, and your cheeks hurt from laughing. Charles kept you close as you walked back to his apartment, the sounds of the city fading into the quiet of the night.

When you stepped inside, the warmth of his home wrapped around you like a blanket. The scent of pine from the Christmas tree mingled with the faint cinnamon aroma lingering from the pastries you’d shared. You kicked off your shoes and spotted a pile of gift-wrapping supplies spread across the table. Charles was already there, rifling through rolls of paper and tangled ribbons, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“You look very serious about this,” you teased, walking over to him.

“Someone has to be,” he shot back with a grin, holding up a roll of wrapping paper adorned with little Santas. “I thought we could wrap the gifts for our families tonight.”

“That’s a lovely idea,” you said, pulling up a chair beside him. “But do you even know how to wrap properly?”

Charles narrowed his eyes at you, mock offense coloring his features. “Of course, I do. I’m a man of many talents.”

“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically, picking up a small gift box. “Let’s see how good you really are.”

You watched as Charles struggled with the paper, his tongue poking out slightly as he tried to cut a straight line. The results were... less than perfect. The edges were jagged, and the tape seemed to be holding the whole thing together by sheer determination.

“Not bad,” you said, trying and failing to keep a straight face. “If you’re going for the ‘child’s first wrapping job’ aesthetic.”

He shot you a playful glare. “All right, miss expert, let’s see you do better.”

You grabbed a roll of ribbon and effortlessly tied it around your box, finishing it off with a neat bow. “Voilà!” you said, presenting your perfectly wrapped gift.

Charles huffed, clearly unimpressed. “Fine, maybe I’m not the best at wrapping gifts. But,” he said, his voice dropping to a lower, teasing tone, “let me show you how I wrap gifts.”

You raised an eyebrow at the sudden shift in his demeanor, a smile tugging at your lips. “Oh? And what exactly does that mean?”

“Come here,” he said, pulling you gently to stand in front of him. “I’ll show you.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine as he guided you to stand, his hands gentle but firm. The ribbon in his hands was soft, its sheen catching the glow of the fairy lights strung across the room. Slowly, deliberately, he began to loop it around your wrists, his movements precise and unhurried.

“You want to tease me about my wrapping skills, but here you are letting me wrap you up.” He teased against you r lips, not yet kissing you. 

The ribbon was cool against your skin, but Charles’s hands were warm as he worked, securing your wrists with practiced ease. He stepped back to admire his handiwork, his eyes darkening as they roamed over you.

“You’re the prettiest gift I’ve ever wrapped,” he said, his tone playful but edged with sincerity.

Your body burned, the heat spreading down your neck as you met his intense gaze. He was utterly captivated by the sight before him, his breathing heavier now, his tongue brushing across his bottom lip in a way that made your stomach flip.

“Do you feel that, mon amour?” he asked pulling you against him, his voice velvety, the undertone of dominance sending a shiver through you. “Feel what you do when your tied up for me?”

“Charles...” you breathed, testing the restraint. The ribbon held firm, and your breath hitched at the realization. “Shhh,” he murmured, stepping closer, his hands skimming up your arms to rest on your shoulders. “Let me take in this moment. You teased me earlier, and now it’s my turn.”

His lips brushed against yours, soft at first, before he deepened the kiss with a commanding fervor. The tension in the room crackled like electricity, every sensation heightened by the silk binding your wrists. Charles’s hands wandered, firm yet reverent, tracing your body as if memorizing every curve.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered against your lips, his voice husky. His fingers toyed with the loose end of the ribbon, tightening it slightly, just enough to make you feel the restraint without discomfort. “Seeing you like this, knowing you’re all mine... it’s driving me insane.”

He stepped back slightly, his eyes raking over you, the raw desire in his gaze making your knees weak. “I want to unwrap you so badly,” he confessed, his voice thick with lust, “but not yet. I want to savor this.”

You swallowed hard, your own anticipation building as his hands slid your bottoms down, hands  lingering just enough to make your skin tingle. The control he exuded was intoxicating, his every move deliberate, his every word laced with a seductive dominance that left you utterly spellbound.

“Teasing me was a mistake, mon amour,” he said, his lips curving into a wicked smile. “Now, you’re going to learn exactly what happens when you challenge me.” The intensity in his voice sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, and as he leaned in to claim your lips once more.

[oldsoul007]

kiss me

nicholas chavez x reader

summary: is it a coincidence that nicholas and y/n keep running into each other during the busiest time of the year

a/n: I know it’s unrealistic, just let me live

Nicholas and I’s first encounter in New York during Christmas was anything but a meet-cute.

The city was buzzing with festive energy, lights twinkling everywhere, and crowds bustling about. I was juggling a bunch of shopping bags and a hot chocolate, trying to navigate through the sea of people at Rockefeller Center. Suddenly, I collided with a guy carrying a huge Christmas tree.

My hot chocolate went flying, splashing all over his coat, and my bags scattered across the pavement. His tree toppled over, almost hitting a group of carolers. We both stood there, stunned and embarrassed. I quickly started picking up my bags, apologizing profusely. "I'm so sorry!" I said, glancing at the mess and his stained coat.

He bent down to help, saying, "No, it's my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going." Our hands brushed as we reached for the same bag, and we both laughed awkwardly. Despite the chaos, there was this brief, inexplicable connection. We exchanged a few more apologies and a sheepish smile before parting ways, thinking it was just a random, albeit memorable, mishap in the vast city.

Little did I know, this was just the beginning of a series of serendipitous encounters that would bring us together again and again.

The very next day, I found themselves wandering through a bustling holiday market in New York City. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of roasted chestnuts and hot cocoa. The market was alive with twinkling lights and the sounds of cheerful chatter.

As I browsed a booth filled with handmade ornaments, I felt a familiar presence beside me. Taking a double look. Turning, I was surprised to see Nicholas standing there, examining a snow globe.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," I said joking with a smile, her breath visible in the cold air.

Nicholas looked up, equally surprised. "Y/n! What are the odds? It's funny, considering how big New York is."

We both laughed, the coincidence of bumping into each other two days in a row in such a big city not lost on us. "I guess fate has a funny way of bringing people together," I joked, my eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Yeah, or maybe New York isn't as big as we think," Nicholas replied, giving me a playful nudge. We continued to explore the market together, the unexpected encounter adding a touch of magic to our day.

The rink was a magical scene, twinkling with fairy lights and filled with couples gliding gracefully on the ice. Nicholas, who was still a bit clumsy on skates, stumbled right into y/n, who was gracefully skating by. They both tumbled onto the ice in a heap of giggles and apologies.

As we sat on the cold ice, catching our breath and trying to regain our composure, Nicholas joked, "Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Maybe the universe is trying to tell us something." My cheeks flushed from the cold and laughter, I replied, "You know, you might be right. How many times can you run into the same person in New York during Christmas? Well I might think you’re stalking me!”

We decided to take a break from skating and warm up with a cup of hot cocoa from a nearby vendor. Sitting at a small table, surrounded by the festive ambiance of the rink, we started talking and found ourselves lost in conversation. We shared stories of their holiday plans, our favorite Christmas traditions, and laughed over the series of mishaps that had brought us together.

By the end of the night, Nicholas looked at me and said with a smile, "So, what do you say we stop leaving it to chance and actually plan to meet up?" I grinned back, "i don’t know���."

Despite the festive lights and cheerful atmosphere, y/ seemed hesitant whenever Nicholas brought up the idea of spending more time together.

"We've bumped into each other so many times lately. It's like the universe is trying to tell us something."

I smiled but remained cautious. "I don't know, Nicholas. It's just... things are really busy right now."

Nicholas nodded, understanding my reluctance. "I get it. But how about this? Let's make a deal. I'll take you to the best hidden spots in New York, places only locals know about, and in return, you give me one evening to show you the magic of Christmas in the city."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued but still unsure. "And what if I don't have a good time?"

Nicholas grinned, confident but kind. "I appreciate the bluntness, but then I'll owe you a favor of your choice. No strings attached. But I promise you, you won't regret it."

After a moment of contemplation, my curiosity got the better of her. "Alright, Nicholas. You've got yourself a deal."

Nicholas's face lit up with excitement. "Great! I can't wait to show you a side of New York you've never seen before."

We exchanged numbers, feeling a warm sense of excitement and curiosity about what the future might hold.

Nicholas couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to do something special to show y/n how much he cared. So, one night, he picked up his phone and called her at 1am.

"Y/n, it's Nicholas. I know it's late, but I have a surprise for you. Can you meet me at Grand Central Station at 2am?"

Me, still groggy from sleep, hesitated for a moment but then agreed, my curiosity piqued. “Promise to not murder me though.”

When I arrived at the station, it was eerily quiet and completely empty. Nicholas was waiting for ‘e with a warm smile. "I wanted to show you something magical," he said, leading me inside.

We walked through the grand hall, and I looked up to see the constellations painted on the ceiling, glowing softly in the dim light. The vast space, usually bustling with people, was serene and peaceful.

"This is incredible, Nicholas," I whispered, taking in the beauty of the moment.

Nicholas nodded, his eyes twinkling. "I thought you might like it. Sometimes, the best moments happen when you least expect them."

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. "Thank you for this. It's perfect."

We stood there together, under the stars, savoring the quiet magic of the night.

After our magical experience at Grand Central Station, Nicholas wasn't ready for the night to end. He turned to me with a mischievous grin. "How about we go somewhere else? I have another place in mind."

My curiosity was piqued. "Alright, lead the way."

I nodded eagerly, my curiosity piqued once again. We hopped into a cab, and Nicholas directed the driver to the American Museum of Natural History. Arriving at the museum, Nicholas led me to a side entrance where a friend of his worked as a night guard. With a wink and a nod, we were let inside.

The museum was eerily quiet and dimly lit, with the exhibits casting long shadows across the floor. Nicholas guided me through the halls, showing me the massive dinosaur skeletons and the serene dioramas of wildlife.

"This place is incredible at night," I whispered, my voice echoing softly.

We wandered through the exhibits, eventually finding ourselves in the planetarium. Nicholas led me to the center, where we lay down on the floor, looking up at the simulated night sky. The stars and planets above us created a mesmerizing view.

As we lay there, the peacefulness of the museum and the beauty of the stars above began to lull them into a state of relaxation. Nicholas turned to me and smiled. "I'm glad we came here."

I smiled back, feeling a deep sense of contentment. "Me too."

Slowly, we both drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the wonders of the museum and the tranquility of the night. It was a perfect end to our spontaneous adventure.

A few hours later, we were gently woken up by the night guard. "Hey, you two. It's almost morning. You should probably head out before the day staff arrives," he said with a chuckle.

I stretched and looked at Nicholas with a sleepy smile. "That was amazing. It felt like a first date, but even better."

Nicholas grinned. "Yeah, it was pretty incredible. But this wasn't our first date. How about I pick you up at 7 tonight, and we have an official one?"

My eyes lit up. "I'd love that."

We thanked the guard and made our way out of the museum, both excited for what the day would bring.

Nicholas picked me up at seven sharp, ready for our official date. We started with a cozy dinner at a charming little bistro, where we shared stories and laughed over delicious food. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and the evening flowed effortlessly.

After dinner, we wandered through the city, stopping by a street fair where we played games and won silly prizes for each other. The night was filled with fun and laughter, and as we walked hand in hand, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

As we strolled through the park, the Christmas lights twinkled like stars, creating a cozy and magical atmosphere. Nicholas looked at me, his heart full. "These lights are amazing. They remind me of how magical the holiday season can be."

I smiled warmly. "Yeah, there's something special about this time of year. It makes everything feel a bit more magical."

Nicholas chuckled. "It's funny how we didn't know each other before, but it feels like we've known each other forever. I'm really glad we met."

I nodded, my eyes reflecting the lights. "Me too. Sometimes the best connections happen unexpectedly."

Nicholas gently squeezed my hand. "Absolutely. Tonight has been incredible, and I can't wait to see where this goes."

We continued our walk, sharing stories and dreams, feeling a deeper connection with each step. The night was filled with warmth, laughter, and the promise of new beginnings.

Finally, we found a quiet spot in a nearby park, where the city lights twinkled around us. Nicholas turned to me, his eyes full of warmth. "I had an amazing time tonight."

I smiled, feeling a flutter in my heart. "Me too. It was perfect."

Nicholas leaned in slowly, and our lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss. It was the perfect end to a magical night, leaving us both looking wanting more.

[zackprincebooks]

🥘Feast Day 🥘

As a kitchen serf in the fortress-monastery, you love feeding your lord angels. If your meager work is one of the few pleasures they can enjoy in their endless war, then you are happy to serve. But your decadent meals are not the only pleasure they seek, and you will come to serve in a different way. (Gadriel x Reader, explicit. 2nd person PoV, Reader is not addressed with a name or gendered pronouns.)

Want to read this on Ao3? Click here!

-------------------------

Fragrant steam rises from the kitchen, fogging up the glasses of the head chef as you open the oven to remove your roasting pan. Some juices dribble off the saber bear roast and splash into the oven, making a sizzling sound and producing even more steam.

“Careful! We still need to braise the grand chestnuts in the sauce, so don’t lose too much jus.” The Master of the Refectorium cleans his glasses on his apron and puts them on, groaning as they immediately fog up again. You take a knee to remove the roasting pan, huffing as your sweaty, mitted hands struggle to lift it onto the counter. 

“I need an extra pair of hands here!” Immediately three people rush to your side as the roasting pan threatens to tip over, pushing it back with their hands wrapped in dish towels. Together, you hoist the roasting pan onto some trivets waiting on the counter. Your fellows clap you on the back and one of them offers you a towel. 

“Many thanks.” You wipe your glistening brow with the proffered towel before throwing it over your shoulder. “If I dropped this and wasted eight hours of roasting, I couldn’t show my face around the monastery.” The thought of explaining to the Lord Angels that they would go without dinner was enough to make your knees weak. 

You didn’t fear them; you loved them with every inch of your weak, mortal heart. Feeding the Emperor’s Angels was a holy duty in and of itself, and you could not meet their disappointed gaze if you had to tell them you ruined one of their few pleasures in life. 

The saucier takes the pan of drippings over to the stove with a bottle of wine and a sack of chestnuts, and you are forced to wash the pan’s rack as you let the roast rest on the counter. It’s watching you, teasingly, begging you to cut into it to check if the inside is done. For such a powerful animal, saber bear meat was notoriously finicky. One minute over its extensive roasting time, and those delicate proteins would start breaking down into gray, unpalatable mush.

“Are you trying to kill it again?” Your saucier teases, giving the chestnuts a little flip. Drops of wine sauce glitter in the air like precious garnets, but your focus is directed towards your precious roast. Every time someone walks by, your breath hitches for fear that they would accidentally knock it to the floor—despite the roast being too big and heavy for anyone but a Space Marine to nudge it off the counter.

Finally—fucking finally—you can cut into it. It’s a thing of beauty; adorned with spices and herbs and the carving knife cuts through it like butter. Each plump slice is a beautiful ruby red, adorned with glittering pearls of fat. More juice spills from each cut, flowing over your knife like reams of crimson silk. You swallow the desire to fawn over the individual slices; it will be almost dinner time, and serving the lords cold, flaccid meat would be a bigger disappointment than serving nothing at all! 

You’re halfway through slicing the roast when you hear the distant sound of a bell ringing, heralding the approach of the Lord Angels. Despite that, you hold off on cutting faster; the roast needs to rest for a second time before you can serve it, and you will have plenty of time during the first course. Nothing but the best for your angels.

The metal window opens up to the dining hall, and you briefly look up from your work to admire the gathered angels.  Many of them have come from the baths with hair still damp and cheeks flushed red from steam. Sometimes you envy the bath serfs, who tend to the lords at their most vulnerable, but you would never relinquish the joy you feel from filling their bellies.

Their first course is an array of broiled root vegetables, many of them slathered in cheese, erdripper bacon, or both. While you bemoan the sheer amount of grease and fat, reaching the ten-thousand calories required to keep a Space Marine fed and running was no easy feat. At least they were getting their vegetables, and not fully subsisting on nutrigruel and amino-porridge. You shudder to think of what your angels eat on the battlefield without your spoon and pan!

Lord Gadriel glimpses you cutting your roast, and his blue eyes light up. “I hope that’s for me later,” he says with a smile, nodding towards you. His blond hair is damp from the baths and the light glances off it, giving him a true halo. You blush and look down, continuing to cut.

From behind him, Lord Chairon lets out a deep throated chuckle that rattles your ribcage. “Don’t be greedy, brother! Leave some for us! That’s a prize of a roast.” He thwaps Gadriel on his bare bicep with a powerful fist and you watch it bounce.

When Gadriel takes his first course, he levels his gaze at you and the warmth in your lower belly tells you he’s not thinking about the roast. -------------------------------

If your fellow cooks knew you wanted to stay late to get a slice of the saber bear roast to yourself, they didn’t show it. The master bids you goodnight, tossing his soiled apron into the hamper as he leaves.

To your credit, you do wash, chop, and wrap the chimera fruit and cobblemoss in preparation for breakfast tomorrow, and you’re in the middle of cleaning your workstation when you hear footsteps down the hall leading to the kitchen doors. The bulky shadow on the opposite wall makes your heart throb in your chest and you abandon the washrag on the counter to approach the double doors.

“Lord Gadriel, may I assist you? Was tonight’s dinner not enough to satisfy you?” While mealtime was over, the kitchen was open to anyone who needed food.

He smiles at you, his head tilting to one side. “I am quite satisfied by tonight’s meal; it was delicious. Thank you for your hard work. I have never gone hungry, so long as you are in the kitchen. But I feel as though you have gone unsatisfied…”

Your breath stutters as your gaze drifts down to the bulge in Gadriel’s sweatpants. It felt too obscene to see that part of an angel; to know that they lusted and wanted just as a fragile mortal. It feels even worse to stare at it, but when you drag your gaze up to Gadriel’s face, you find his expression is as hungry as his body. Your legs clench as though you can feel his tongue against the apex of your thighs as he licks his lips.

“I would never demand you to feed me, my lord,” you protest weakly.

“Nor would answer your demand,” Gadriel counters. You try to hold your ground as he advances, but Gadriel's oppressive weight eventually pushes you against the steel wall behind you. It cools your sizzling skin but doesn't temper the flame of your arousal.

One of Gadriel's hands reaches out to touch the meat of your bottom lip, skimming the bite marks in the soft flesh. You can smell the nourishing oils from his bath earlier, making his skin soft and tender. You resist the urge to lick it, even though your mouth is watering.

“I want you to beg for it.” His growling voice makes your belly clench. Suddenly you feel horrifically empty; starving to feel Gadriel inside of you even if he would shred you alive.

“Please feed me, my lord. Fill me with your need and allow me to sate you.” Your lips brush against Gadriel’s thumb with each word, and you punctuate your pleas with a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb.

“Open wide,” is his only warning before Gadriel pushes you to the floor. He's gentle about it, but for an angel, it means you're lucky that your knees don't break when they impact with the floor. He winces when you do, and whispers “sorry,” as he runs his fingers through your hair as penance. With his opposite hand, Gadriel slowly pulls down his sweatpants until his cock manages to pop out. He's not as long as you expected him to be, but he is deliciously thick and veiny, with a large, red head. The dusting of golden hair on his crotch is well-groomed…had he been expecting you? 

Waiting for you?

Wanting you?

This is a delicacy to be savored. Opening your mouth, you press a sucking kiss to the head of his cock before sticking out your tongue to wet his slit. He's still too long for you to take him wholly into your mouth, so you use one hand to stroke what you cannot reach as your mouth slowly engulfs him.

Gadriel's primal groan is sweet on your ears, as is his hand pushing your face further into his groin. The head of his cock bumps the back of your throat and your futile attempts to relax your throat to take more only make you gag sloppily. A dribble of saliva is forced out from the corner of your mouth with his next thrust.

If looking at Gadriel's bulging cock was obscene, this is a blessing. Your only lament is that you cannot take the whole of his cock into your mouth so that he could properly fuck your throat. But you take some sadistic pleasure in watching the tremble of his hips as he valiantly holds himself back.

The hallway behind the kitchen is soon filled with the wet noises of your sucking and Gadriel's deep moans. Your muffled whimpering joins in as your free hand dives under your apron and into your pants to touch yourself. It feels wrong to take your pleasure when Gadriel hasn't finished, but the burning between your legs is only heightened by his noises.

Your sounds do not go unnoticed by his sensitive hearing, and his chuckle sends shivers down your spine. “Does this make you feel good? I can make you feel even better than your mere fingers. Would you like that?”

With your eyes watery, your lips puffy, and your face red with exertion, you're sure you look like a mess. But Gadriel's blue gaze is soft as he watches your mouth contract around his cock.

“Would you like that?” He repeats, gentler this time, and you nod, unintentionally bobbing around his cock so his breath stutters. “G-good.”

Your whine of pleasure turns to one of disappointment as Gadriel pulls his cock from your mouth, glistening with your saliva. You don't even have time to wipe your lips before Gadriel tugs you to your feet with one hand on your shoulder.

Lifting you against the wall until you're at eye-level with him, Gadriel pulls you in for a kiss. It muffles your initial “mmph!” on impact, but Gadriel's lips coax softer sounds out of you. You can taste the slight sweetness of cream on his mouth from tonight's dessert. Pressed between the bulk of his chest and the unforgiving wall, you just barely fit your arms around Gadriel's shoulders to run up and down his back. Under your hands, his broad shoulders flex and bulge.

Your kiss breaks with a quiet smacking sound and Gadriel steps back for a moment. He takes the time to step out of his pants, though he doesn't remove his shirt. There's a thin sheen of sweat gathering at his collar that you want to lick, but it dawns on you that you’re in the middle of a hallway behind the kitchen.

“My l-lord, should w-we really b-be doing this?” Gadriel’s hand pauses as he reaches for the strings of your apron.

“Do you want to? If you are afraid of the consequences, then I will cover for you. It is no trouble,” he says quickly as you open your mouth. “I want this.”

“I want this, too. I just feel a little…” You gesture to the hallway. “Exposed. And we are not fucking in the kitchen.”

Gadriel chuckles, pressing his powerful arms against the wall. His head tilts downwards until you are fully boxed in, sheltered by his body. Occasionally, you can feel his breath feathering the top of your hair. “Still feeling exposed?”

“Not anymore, my lord.” You smile at him, which he returns.

You meet again for another kiss; gentler this time. Gadriel's jaw rubs yours and you can feel the stubble under his chin where he missed shaving in the bath. His hands slide down your body, spanning the entire length of your ribcage before dipping down to cup your ass and lift once more against the wall. He breaks the kiss and tilts down to kiss your neck before nibbling. It's almost ticklish, and you giggle for a second until he bites.

“Oh, oh,” one of your legs attempts to kick out but Gadriel holds you firmly against the wall. Almost as if he's showing off, he holds you with one hand while his other unties the strings of your apron.

“Are you a virgin?” He whispers into your skin. You manage a trembling no, and he nips underneath your right ear. Gadriel lets go of your legs again and backs up by a half step.

“Turn around for me and put your hands against the wall for me...yes, just like that.” Gadriel presses a fleeting kiss you the back of your neck before his weight leaves you. You feel his bulk settling somewhere behind you, under you, and his hands reach around to your front in order to unbuckle your belt and pull down your pants. The cool air hits your bare skin, but even as Gadriel pulls down your underwear, you still don't feel chilled. Not when his warm hands are caressing your ass and spreading your cheeks to reveal your tight hole.

“Now this is a treat,” he murmurs under his breath before leaning in and licking a stripe up your crack. The warmth and wetness of his tongue on your most intimate and vulnerable place makes you melt and moan. Your breath fogs up the steel wall as you pant from his questing tongue.

Not only is he skilled, but he is also relentless. Gadriel assaults your tight pucker with licks and sucks; if anyone dared to walk down this hallway, they wouldn't need to round the corner to hear the lewd noises that bounce off the walls. You hide your burning red face in your folded arms against the wall, but it does nothing to quiet your moaning and whimpering.

Once your hole is properly wetted, Gadriel sits back on his heels to admire his handiwork. You dare to look over your shoulder down at him. His expression is so fucking smug that it would be almost insulting, if it weren't for the fact that you were both naked from the waist down.

“You're being very good,” he murmurs, giving your ass a squeeze, “just a little longer, all right? I don't want to hurt you.”

“All right.” You turn your face back into your arms, but not before you watch Gadriel insert three fingers into his mouth. There's a soft sucking noise, akin to the sound he made while he ate your ass. He wets them thoroughly and pulls them out of his mouth with a pop.

Though your previous experiences with anal were few and far between, you know enough that you don't flinch when the first of Gadriel's thick fingers breaches your asshole. He's loosened you enough so there's nothing more than a brief pinching sensation before he's able to start pushing in and out.

“You're very tight in here,” Gadriel muses, “has it been a long time?” When you hesitate, he kisses the swell of your ass cheek. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to.”

“It's been a while,” you hedge, “with, ah, work and everything.”

“You work so hard,” and Gadriel thrusts more forcefully on the word hard, making you gasp, “let me help you relax.” He adds a second finger, and you moan at the stretch.

You attempt to raise a counterpoint, “I-I serve...the angels...”

“Then let me serve you, for a chance.” Gadriel spreads his fingers apart to scissor you open. “I wasn't lying when I said I'm always satisfied with your meals. You feed me so well.”

When he adds the third finger, your vision goes white. Your moaning has turned into sobbing, tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. You could cum like this if not for the larger prize awaiting you.

Gadriel seems to notice, and he slowly withdraws his fingers from your hole, making a lewd, squelching sound. You don't know whether you're more turned on by the sound or by what it means when Gadriel stands up. You attempt to brace yourself against the wall for the punishing pounding you're about to receive, but Gadriel grasps you by the waist and turns you around one final time.

“I want to see you when I take you.” You lean on him to untie your shoes and take your pants off all the way, and when he lifts you in his arms one final time, his blue eyes fill you with warmth.

“Thank you.”

This is a familiar position for you by now, with your thighs bracketing Gadriel's sides and his chest pressed against yours—only this time, the head of Gadriel's cock rubs against your stretched, wet hole. You rock your hips until it catches the rim of your ass. You're not sure who gasps when the head sinks into you.

You scrabble for purchase on Gadriel's back and he holds you closer, sinking in little by little. “Angel,” you choke into his ear, and he responds with a cracked moan of your name.

He's so big. That's the only thing running through your mind. Though you held Gadriel's cock in your mouth not ten minutes ago, it somehow feels longer and thicker as he sinks you down onto it. When you feel his balls on the swell of your ass, you can't help looking down to make sure there's not a bulge in your stomach.

“It's in?” Gadriel pants, and you nod.

“It's in. A-all of it. Oh, Throne, I took all of it...” He chuckles weakly, kissing your temple. 

“Do you think you're ready for me to move?”

“Yes!” The word is barely out of your mouth before Gadriel thrusts, pushing you upwards against the wall. You scrabble for purchase on his back, rucking up his shirt and exposing some of his ports.

“So tight, am I hurting you? You feel...so good.” Gadriel pants directly into your ear, his warm breath cascading down the collar of your shirt.

“No, doesn't hurt, but—” Gadriel fucking stops and you muffle your scream by biting his shoulder. “It feels like you're splitting me in half!”

“That's the plan,” he huffs, and resumes thrusting. The positioning is a little awkward; you almost wish Gadriel took you from behind. But on a particularly harsh thrust that makes your toes curl, you watch Gadriel's lips part softly and his eyes roll back into his head.

That alone makes everything worth it.

Despite your best efforts, you cum first. Gadriel holds you through it, continuing to grind his cock into your asshole so you can ride it out. When you pull back, you stammer your apologies at the wet spot your orgasm left on his shirt.

“No, don’t apologize. It was beautiful.” Gadriel kisses you, gently wiping your tears with his thumb. “Do you want me to cum in you?” When he grinds into you again, you swear his balls feel fuller than before.

“Please, Gadriel,” you whimper, and his next kiss devours your mouth. You can barely breathe even through your nose as your oversensitive ass is pounded by Gadriel’s cock, molding your hole to its shape. When Gadriel pulls away, the long string of saliva connecting your mouth snaps as his head throws back with a deep moan. You seize the moment to pounce and bite down on his exposed neck, relishing in the whine Gadriel makes as he pumps your ass full of hot, sticky cum.

After all the sounds you’ve made, the hallway is silent as you both come down. You nibble on Gadriel’s neck and rub his back, careful to avoid his ports lest you overstimulate him. His hands squeeze your thighs in appreciation before lowering you onto the ground. Both of you wince as his cock slips out of you.

“Oops,” Gadriel laughs sheepishly, reaching beyond you. Looking over your shoulder, you watch Gadriel touch a dent in the wall made by his forceful thrusts.

“It’s all right; nothing important is on the side of that wall,” you reassure him with a kiss. Gadriel helps you put your pants and shoes on, sneaking kisses and copping feels as he ties your apron.

“Did you at least enjoy it?” The shy expression on his face is so cute, you want to kiss him—so you do.

“It was amazing. But I think I would enjoy it more in a bed.” You lean back and stretch, wincing as your back cracks.

“That can be arranged, if you’d like?” Gadriel pauses in the middle of pulling his sweatpants back on. “I understand there is a stereotype of Space Marines sleeping on slabs of rock, but my bed is quite comfortable.”

“I’m very tempted,” and Gadriel’s nigh rakish grin is enough to make you reconsider, “but I have other plans for the rest of my night. Though you’re welcome to join me?”

It takes a few minutes to reheat the sauce, as it has coagulated since dinnertime. But soon, the kitchen fills with the sounds and smells of simmering red wine sauce and grand chestnuts. You let the sauce go while you prepare the roast. Gadriel’s patience is adorable; keeping his hands to himself as you occasionally pass him with hot pans and sharp knives.

The kitchen is quiet as you both eat, hunched over the counter. You savor every bite, letting the tender flesh fill your mouth. With the tender sweetness of the grand chestnuts breaking up the robust flavor of the roast and the acidic quality of the sauce, it’s the perfect dish.

Well…

Your eyes cut over to Gadriel. He catches you staring and gently nudges you with his elbow, eyes twinkling.

Almost perfect.

[starrynini05]

santa tell me – roseanne park x barista!reader

summary: you can't help but wonder, is she really staying?

warnings: none (rosé is referred to as chae sometimes)

tags: idol!rosé ; non-idol!reader ; established relationship ; winter au ; first christmas ; holiday au

genre: fluff

word count: 1.1k

It was mid-December in Seoul, and the city gleamed like a scene straight out of a holiday movie. Snowflakes fluttered gently from the sky, blanketing the streets in a pristine white coat. The smell of roasted chestnuts wafted through the air, mingling with the faint notes of Christmas carols drifting from nearby shops. Couples walked hand in hand bundled in scarves and puffy jackets, clutching steaming cups of hot chocolate, their laughter mixing with the cheerful hum of the season.

Y/n adjusted her beanie as the biting wind nipped at her cheeks, making them flush. Pulling her scarf tighter around her neck, she glances softly at Roseanne, her six-month girlfriend. She was effortlessly stunning, even in the biting cold, her sharp features softened by the glow of fairy lights strung along the street. Her gloved hand held Y/n’s firmly, her thumb occasionally brushing against her knuckles in a way that sent warmth straight to the shorter girl's heart.

They had met almost a year ago while Y/n was working overtime in a café near the blonde’s studio. The Aussie singer stumbled upon the cute café after an exhausting recording session for her latest single, needing a place to relax and unwind. As she noticed the cute barista in the counter Chae didn’t waste her time trying to make small talk with her. This started a series of little dates and outings that had you both happy and smitten. After a couple of months and careful consideration, they finally made it official. This was their first Christmas season as a couple, and Y/n was equally excited and nervous.

The barista’s heart fluttered at how natural it felt to be with the blonde girl. Yet, there was a lingering doubt she couldn’t shake. Every time the holiday music played in the background, particularly that song, her mind echoed Ariana Grande’s lyrics:

"Santa, tell me if you're really there... 'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year." She knew dating the idol came with its own set of challenges, the possibility of it not lasting making her dizzy.

As they wandered into a Christmas market near Gwanghwamun Square, they noticed the stalls brimming with holiday trinkets, handmade ornaments, and steaming snacks. The festive energy buzzed all around them, but Y/n’s thoughts were miles away. Rosie squeezed her hand lightly, drawing her back to the moment.

“You’ve been quiet today,” she said, her voice soft but laced with curiosity. “Is everything okay?”

Hmm?” Y/n looked up at her, startled. “Oh, I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“About what?” the idol asked, leading her toward a stall selling intricately crafted glass ornaments.

“About Christmas,” she admitted, her eyes scanning the delicate baubles sparkling under the warm light. “And us.”

Chae arched an eyebrow, pausing to study her face. “Us? Should I be worried?”

Y/n laughed, though it was a bit forced. “No, it’s nothing bad! It’s just… this time of year always feels so magical. But at the same time, it makes me think about the future. Like, will we be doing this next year? Or the year after that?”

Chaeyoung’s expression softened as she reached for an ornament shaped like a snowflake. “You’re worried about next Christmas already sweetheart?”

Y/n shrugged, trying to play it off. “Maybe. I guess I’m just trying to figure out how much to let myself… believe in all of this.”

Setting the ornament down, Chae turned to her fully, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re overthinking again.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing under the brown-eyed girl’s gaze. “But can you blame me?”

Rosé didn’t reply right away, instead brushing a stray snowflake off her hair. “Stay here for a second,” she said suddenly, her tone light but determined.

“Rosie, what—”

Before she could finish, the blond darted off toward a stall a few steps away, leaving her standing in the middle of the bustling market. Y/n crossed her arms, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her breath visible in the frosty air. She wondered what her girlfriend was up to when she caught sight of her handing cash to the vendor and pocketing something small.

When she returned, she hid whatever she’d bought behind her back, her grin sheepish but endearing. “Close your eyes,” she said.

The brunette frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Just trust me,” the singer insisted, stepping closer.

With a sigh and a playful roll of her eyes, Y/n complied, standing still as the chill nipped at her cheeks.

“Okay, open.”

When she did, she found herself staring at a small red box tied with a golden ribbon. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Rosie …”

“Before you get any ideas, it’s not *that*,” Rosé teased, her laughter warm and low. “Just open it.”

Y/n untied the ribbon carefully, her fingers trembling slightly. Inside was a simple silver charm bracelet, its single charm a tiny snowman with a red scarf. Y/n felt her throat tighten as she traced the charm with her fingertips.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, looking up at the golden-haired girl.

“I saw it and thought of you,” she said, her tone turning uncharacteristically serious. “It’s just the first charm, though. My idea is to add a new one every Christmas we spend together. That way, you’ll never have to wonder if I’ll be here next year, or the year after that.”

Y/n blinked rapidly, trying to fight back tears. The gesture was simple, yet it carried so much weight. “You mean…”

“I mean I’m not going anywhere,” Roseanne said, her smile softening. “So, you don’t have to ask Santa or worry about next Christmas. I’m all in, princess.”

She threw her arms around the taller girl’s neck, burying her face in her pink scarf to hide the happy tears streaming down her cheeks. “You’re the best gift I could ever ask for.”

“And you’re stuck with me,” she teased, wrapping her arms around the brunette tightly.

The rest of the evening felt like a dream. They strolled through the market, sipping hot cocoa and admiring the festive lights, their worries melting away with every laugh and shared glance.

Later, as they stood in front of a massive Christmas tree glowing with golden lights, Y/n glanced up at Rosie, her heart full. Maybe she didn’t need to ask Santa this year. She already had everything she wanted right here.

[fuqnia]

Pretend Like It's the First Time

kyle broflovski x reader

(❁´◡`❁) | [A/N] This is my first post, aahh i'm super excited! this oneshot was inspired by the Powder and Ekko Dance scene from Arcane Season 2. this oneshot is also based on my fanfic!

(❁´◡`❁) | Warning(s) : None

(❁´◡`❁) | Synopsis : At a glowing festival, you and Kyle share a tender dance and a bittersweet kiss, but his secrets pull him away, leaving you longing for answers.

The festival is alive with color and sound, the kind of chaotic beauty that should lift your spirits. Strings of lanterns hang between the crooked poles lining the cobblestone streets, glowing warm and soft against the cool night air. The faint smell of roasted chestnuts and sweet cider drifts through the crowd, blending with the distant music that ebbs and flows like a tide.

Yet, even in the midst of it all, you can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. The laughter, the chatter, the vibrancy of the festival—all of it feels like it’s happening at arm’s length, just out of reach. You weave through the crowd, stopping occasionally at stalls to glance over colorful trinkets. Your fingers trace over a small glass figurine—a kite with tiny red and blue panes, its fragile edges glinting in the lantern light. Something about it tugs at you, though you can’t quite place why.

“[Y/N]?”

The sound of your name freezes you in place. You turn, and there he is—Kyle Broflovski, standing a few feet away with his hands shoved into the pockets of his open jacket. His familiar green ushanka is slightly crooked, and his reddish hair peeks out in unruly curls. The sight of him is grounding in a way you hadn’t expected, like suddenly remembering how to breathe.

“Kyle?” Your hand falls away from the figurine as you step toward him. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think festivals were your thing.”

He shrugs, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “They’re not. I just… had a free night. Thought I’d check it out.”

You narrow your eyes at him, studying his face. There’s something off in the way he says it, a hesitation that makes the words feel too deliberate. But you let it go, choosing instead to smirk. “You? Being spontaneous? That’s new.”

He chuckles softly, his hands still buried deep in his jacket pockets. “Maybe I’m full of surprises.”

You fall into step beside him as he begins to walk, the crowd thinning the further you go from the festival’s bustling heart. The music grows softer, the chatter fading until only the distant hum of the river remains. Lanterns float lazily along its surface, their reflections stretching and breaking with the ripples.

For a while, you walk in comfortable silence, but there’s a weight hanging between you—something unsaid.

“Do you ever feel,” Kyle starts, his voice quieter now, “like you’re pretending to be someone you’re not?”

The question stops you in your tracks. You glance at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “Sometimes,” you admit. “I think everyone does. Why?”

He doesn’t look at you. Instead, his gaze stays fixed on the river, his shoulders tense. “It’s just… hard. Like, there’s this part of me I can’t show anyone. And sometimes I wonder if that makes me fake.”

You take a step closer, watching him carefully. “Kyle…” Your voice is soft, tentative. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

His head turns slightly, his eyes finally meeting yours. There’s something raw in his expression, something guarded but deeply vulnerable. For a moment, you think he might say it, whatever it is he’s holding back. But then he looks away again, shaking his head with a faint, bitter laugh.

“I know,” he says. “It’s just… complicated.”

The music shifts behind you, swelling into a lively waltz that carries faintly on the breeze. Kyle straightens slightly, his posture easing as he turns back to you with a small, almost teasing smile.

“Dance with me,” he says, extending a hand.

You blink, caught off guard. “What? Here?”

“It’s a festival,” he says, a bit more playfully now. “Why not?”

You hesitate for only a moment before rolling your eyes, letting a laugh escape. “Alright, Broflovski. But if you step on my feet, you owe me cider.”

His smile widens, and he takes your hand, pulling you gently into a spin. The world seems to blur around you as the music reaches its peak, the rhythm guiding your movements. At first, you’re clumsy together, his steps awkward and your footing unsteady. But as the song continues, you find your rhythm, the two of you swaying in time with the music.

The lantern light dances across his face as he laughs, and it’s a sound so rare and genuine that it makes your chest ache. For a moment, you let yourself forget everything else—the festival, the questions lingering at the edges of your mind, the sense that he’s holding something back. Right now, it’s just the two of you, spinning beneath the lanterns.

But then the song slows, and so do you, the laughter fading into quiet as you come to a stop. You’re standing closer than before, his hand still clasping yours, his other resting lightly on your waist. The soft glow of the lanterns casts a golden halo around him, and his eyes—usually so sharp and confident—look uncharacteristically vulnerable.

“Kyle…” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

For a long moment, he doesn’t answer. His gaze flickers to your lips, and you feel your breath catch. Then, before you can say anything else, he leans in. His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s soft and hesitant, almost unsure, but there’s an intensity behind it—a quiet desperation that makes your heart race.

You kiss him back, your hand gripping the front of his jacket to steady yourself. The world around you seems to vanish, the sounds of the festival fading into nothing. It’s just him—just the warmth of him, the weight of his emotions bleeding into the kiss.

But then he pulls away, his breath shaky as his forehead presses against yours. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking. He steps back, breaking the contact entirely, and the cold rushes in to fill the space between you.

“Kyle…” You reach for him, but he shakes his head, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips.

“It’s not you,” he says quietly. “It’s me. There’s… there’s so much I can’t tell you.”

The fireworks start then, exploding in bursts of gold and red above the river. You turn instinctively to look at them, the vibrant colors painting the sky. When you glance back, Kyle is watching you, his expression soft but distant.

“This feels like a dream,” you murmur, the words slipping out unbidden.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice barely audible. “Maybe it is.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd before you can stop him. You stand there, rooted in place, your chest tight with everything left unsaid. The festival continues around you, bright and alive, but you can’t shake the feeling that something precious has slipped through your fingers.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Eris x reader: Autumn Frost

A/N: Love autumn and winter but cannot deal with the cold

Also, I know it’s late, but here it is (I’m so sorry this took a while)

Warnings: mostly fluff, but some suggestiveness towards the end…

Word Count: 1,620

You’re out of your clothes and leaping beneath the covers before he’s stepped foot in the room.

The vibrant oranges and burning reds are always stunning, so rich and lively, but your fingertips have long since gone numb, along with your toes. The sheets are crisp, but cool, not yet warmed by bodies. Shivers run along your skin, as if skating across a frozen lake. Teeth chatter in the silence, and sharp, caramel eyes flick over to your heavily-duveted form—bundled up tight beneath the cotton sheets.

Before you can protest, Eris has strode to your side, hand sliding beneath the covers to locate your own. His brows narrow when he feels the iciness of your skin, almost frozen stiff. None of the softness he so frequently seeks to be found. “You’re freezing,” he mutters, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Half of you wants to pull away, but you’re too preoccupied with the heat that’s seeping from his skin into your own, warming your blood. “I’m fine,” you reassure, teeth chattering a little, lips slightly numb. His brow narrows further, “you’re clearly not fine. You’re shaking.” You manage a small smile, tightening your hands on his, pulling him closer, rolling onto your side as you curl into him. “I like it,” you murmur, “it’s part of Autumn—the chill. And it makes the heat so much better; more rewarding.”

He sighs, free hand wrapping around the nape of your neck, pulling you up the to heat of his body, tucking you into the crook of his shoulder. “So strange, aren’t you?” He mumbles the question under his breath, hot lips brushing your temple. You press deeper into his warmth, bathing in the heat of that inner flame. “Rude.”

A chuckle drags from his chest, like the crackle and pop of firewood from a bonfire. “I’m right though, aren’t I?” You tip your head up to glare at him, but he presses his lips to your forehead, instantly softening you. Leaning into the quiet kiss, you squeeze his hand, revelling in the all-encompassing sense of him. So wonderful. So perfect.

You whine when he releases you, forcing you to burrow back beneath the thick duvet, curling into the small patch of warmth you’ve managed to accumulate. Eris sighs, stroking your hair before standing, moving to change out of his own clothes—more than happy to spend the evening tucked beneath the covers. Especially if it means you’ll be greedily putting your hands all over him. He knows you don’t do well with the cold, even if it’s nothing compared to the harsh blades of winter ice.

When he’s changed, he pulls back the covers. You squeal as the outside air rushes in, nipping at your skin, making it pebble with goosebumps. “Eris,” you whine, scrambling deeper into the small warmth, cowering from the cool air. “Eris hurry up. It’s freezing,” you moan, muscles tensing as you attempt to wrap the duvet tighter around your body. He snorts, “I knew it was worse than you were letting on. I told you to wear your gloves, remember? Next time tell me when you start to get cold. I’ll warm you up.”

You huff begrudgingly, rolling onto your side, facing away from him—even though you know he’s right. He laughs softly at your antics, then the mattress dips, and strong arms are wrapping over your hips, pressing beneath your waist as you’re dragged back into his chest. As soon as his skin touches yours, the fight seeps from you. Instead you roll back over, tucking yourself close, hands greedily groping at his sturdy muscle, revelling in his scent. Slightly smoky, with the crispness of autumn frost, the slight tang of roasted chestnuts twining with the sweetness of apples cooked in brown sugar.

“Come closer,” you mumble, lips brushing against his collar bones, nosing at his throat. The soft breath of his chuckle tickles your pointed ear, “I’m as close as I can get. Are you still cold?” You nod, just a small dip of your head. Instantly the bed warms, heat radiating from his skin, heating you until you no longer feel the need to cling so tight to him.

Eris senses the way your muscles melt, how your fingertips have softened and your breaths are deeper. Less tense, no longer so quick or shallow. He wraps you tighter, enjoying your scent, allowing you to sink into his bones.

You tuck deeper into him, enjoying the feel of having him all to yourself. With nothing else to worry about. No gossiping handmaids, no peeping servants, no overbearing courtiers. Just you and him.

“Eri?” You mumble, lips warm and soft against his skin, a faint tickle coming from your breath as it skates across him. He hums in response, and you feel it rattle through your bones, biting back a soft purr. Stay on track. “What shall we do tomorrow?” You ask drowsily, fighting to stay awake with the all-around comfort he innately provides. “What do you want to do?” He replies softly, eyes shut, content to bask in the moment.

Your brow furrows, and you manage to sleepily glare at him. “We’re here because you’re overworking yourself,” you mumble. “You needed a break, so it’s your choice. What do you want to do?”

Hands grip your waist, sliding a little lower, “you.” He pinches your ass, making you squeak, then poke him in the ribs. You press your cold toes to his calves, and he hisses. “I thought you said I was here to relax,” he fires at you, pushing you across the mattress then tugging the duvet back to his body.

“Eris!” You snap, scrambling back across the bed, burrowing into the heat, desperate to escape the cold. “Eris, that was cruel,” you snipe, pushing him onto his back, letting you crawl on top of him. “Attacking me in my own bed is cruel,” he counters, helping you straddle his hips. “Twice, I might add.”

“You should have taken my question a bit more seriously,” you grunt, lying flat across his chest, the soft swell of your breasts pressing against him delightfully.

His hand slides to the nape of your neck, threading through your hair, guiding you to look up at him. “Do you think I was joking, lovely vixen?” Heat flushes your cheeks at the pet name—it doesn’t come out unless he wants to make things messy. “No…” you mumble. He’s spent long enough showing how much he desires you, that you don’t doubt him.

Hell, if the tables were reversed…

“But that’s something you can have whenever you want,” you mumble, eyes flickering about as he watches you hungrily. “So pick something else—something you don’t normally get the opportunity to do, at least.”

A neatly groomed brow arches, “you’d like me to get creative, then?” You flush, staring at him, heart beating heavily in your chest. Sure he can feel it. “Eris…” you murmur, lowly, feeling the beginnings of something hot and liquid coalescing in the pit of your belly.

“You’ve always been so sensitive to temperature, haven’t you?” He drawls, fingertips dancing teasingly down the notches of your spine. Teeth bite lightly into your lower lip, “whatever you’re thinking, stop it. Now.” You don’t really want him to, though. He’s already got you wrapped around his finger. You’ll probably do whatever he ends up asking you to.

Eris’ lips quirk, and your sex heats in response. A tingle tracing back up your spine as his hand moves lower, settling over your ass, gripping, groping and squeezing. “Eris…” It’s supposed to be a hiss, but comes out more like a whimper. “Want to know what we’ll be doing tomorrow, lovely vixen?” He purrs, fingers slipping between your thighs. You remain quiet, and he knows he’s won.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to open the windows in the kitchen, and you’re going to lie on the table,” he murmurs, stroking the intimate skin of your upper legs. “You’re going to take all your clothes off, so you’re extra sensitive to the cold, and you’re going to stay completely still as I warm you up on my own.”

You’re not sure you’ll be able to cool down, embers igniting in the pit of your belly, want thrumming between your thighs.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it nice for you,” he hums, retracting his hand, bringing it back up and you nearly whimper. “Give you a nice, hot meal. Light some candles. Run a bath for you after…” Caramel eyes gleam, “maybe the candles will come in use, during.” Warmth flushes your cheeks as you find yourself anticipating tomorrow's dawn.

“You’re unfair, Eris,” you mumble onto his chest, knowing he’s not going to give you anymore stimulation until tomorrow. Even if you beg for it. “Unfair?” He echoes, a lilt to his voice, “you wanted me to do something I don’t usually get the opportunity to.”

“I meant choose something like bake a pie together…read together…go on a walk…something more mundane.”

“Fine, let’s bake a pie, go for a walk, then eat it when we get back over a book,” he responds, stroking your hair affectionately.

“No,” you say hurriedly, “we can do what you wanted. That’s why we’re here, after all. I won’t get in your way.”

He laughs again, squeezing your sides, calling a smile to your lips. Setting kisses across his skin, gentle whispers of affection.

How lucky he is to have this time with you.

To have this secretive space, where it’s just you two together, and he can shut out the rest of the world.

Only for a short while, but it’s worth it.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb

[balkanradfem]

Come to a chestnut roasting adventure with me!

I found all these chestnuts this morning, and realized it would be a good day to go and roast them. My only condition for this is that it didn't rain in the last few days, so I would be able to find dry wood for the fire. Here's the preparation:

I carved in little x's on the chestnuts, if you don't do this, they explode in the fire, I've tried it out! I gathered all my resources: an old pan, some newspapers, matches, some easily flammable sticks, and the chestnuts. I packed it in my backpack and added a bottle of water, which is also important!

Now we can start the adventure, here's where we're going:

We have arrived! Now let's see how our designated fire spot looks like:

It is, in fact, filled with mud. From here on, we are doing chores. The first chore is to find some rocks, and position them so they can hold the fire up, because the fire should not be lit on mud. There's plenty rocks around the river so this wasn't a lot of work!

The next chore is to find fuel for the fire. There's little branches, sticks, pieces of bark and wooden debris everywhere, so this is a matter of foraging. We are going around picking up little sticks and wooden logs!

It's almost like a little cleanup, the place looks nicer afterwards. Now, these need to be broken into smaller pieces, and sorted into categories of 'tiny branches, medium sticks, and big pieces of wood'. There we go:

It is a satisfying task, and a good way to figure out which pieces are truly dry; dry wood will snap easily, if it's bendy and refusing to break, then it's not the best idea to put it in a fire, it's going to cause a lot of smoke and refuse to catch on fire quickly.

Now we can build a fire!

I don't know what the professional way for this is, but I've been lighting fires since I was a kid so I got this. I want the fire to be as far away from mud as possible, and for it to draw oxygen from underneath, so I will first add a few of the biggest sticks, and light the fire on top of them. This will make sure the fire has air! Then I'm scrunching up some newspapers, and adding the driest little sticks on top of them. I'm not trying to make this part airy, I'm trying to surround the newspapers with pieces of wood completely, so the heat cannot escape! The more heat there is trapped under the wood, the easier it will all light up. Heat escaping out would be a waste.

It's all ready, I'm grabbing the matches and lighting the newspapers:

I took a video of how fast this fire started, and it was almost scary, I had to keep backing away to not get burned. This is 10 seconds after I lit the newspapers:

The fire is immediately successful, so much so that I added everything I found on it, and then had to go get more pieces of wood! The fire for roasting chestnuts needs to achieve a certain amount of heat before we can start; we need glowing embers. I let it burn for 15 minutes, and at that point it is so hot I can't even get near anymore, and I could see embers. Now the fire is to be rearranged so it can accommodate the pan!

I moved the wood around so the glowing embers were exposed and put the pan right on top of them; it's being held by other sturdy pieces of wood that are not going to fall apart easily.

While they were roasting, I took some time to make a little origami box out of newspapers, to put the chestnuts in when they're done. After about 20 minutes of roasting they were finished!

I tried one and they're perfect! And at this point if you remember to look up, there's a beautiful sunset going on in the river:

I went on to make a second batch, to share and have some for dinner later. By the time they were done, the sun set completely. Our roasting adventure went successful! Chestnuts were roasted, good times were had, sunsets were enjoyed. I made sure to put the fire out with water before leaving. My fingers still smell like fire!

[chelseaknoo]

25 days with Eminem

Eminem x reader

Day 23

The air was crisp, filled with the scent of pine and the faint sweetness of hot cocoa from nearby stands. You and the family bundled up in your warmest coats, Jackie snugly wrapped in his tiny puffer jacket and a knitted hat that made him look like a tiny elf. His chubby cheeks were rosy from the cold, and he babbled happily as you adjusted him in his stroller.

“Why are we doing this again?” Marshall grumbled, shoving his gloved hands into his coat pockets.

“Because it’s festive,” you replied, shooting him a playful glare. “And because the kids need something to do other than argue over TikTok trends.”

“We don’t argue over TikTok!” Hailie shot back, clearly offended.

“Yes, you do,” Stevie said with a smirk.

“No, we don’t!” Alaina added, quickly taking Hailie’s side.

“See?” you said, gesturing at them. “Exhibit A.”

Marshall snorted, shaking his head. “Alright, let’s get this over with before my toes freeze off.”

---

The town square was packed with families and couples, all gathered around the giant tree that stood in the center. It was wrapped in strings of lights that hadn’t been turned on yet, and a stage nearby hosted a live band playing cheerful holiday tunes. Vendors were selling roasted chestnuts, candy canes, and steaming cups of cider.

“Oh, I’m getting one of those,” Stevie said, pointing to a stand selling giant pretzels.

“Me too,” Alaina chimed in.

“Guys, we’re here for the tree, not the snacks,” you reminded them.

“But snacks are part of the experience,” Hailie said, grinning as she handed you Jackie’s diaper bag. “Hold this while I go get one too.”

You sighed as the three of them dashed off toward the stand, leaving you and Marshall alone for a moment.

“Typical,” Marshall muttered.

“You’re not any better,” you teased. “I saw you eyeing that hot dog cart.”

He shrugged. “I’m a simple man with simple needs.”

---

The kids eventually returned, loaded up with pretzels and cups of hot cocoa. Jackie reached out from his stroller, clearly interested in what they were holding.

“Can I give him a piece?” Hailie asked, holding up a small chunk of pretzel.

“Only if it’s tiny,” you said, watching as she broke off the smallest piece imaginable and handed it to him. Jackie squealed with delight, chewing it with his two little teeth.

“Dude’s living his best life,” Marshall said, watching Jackie with a rare soft smile.

The band announced that the tree lighting would happen in five minutes, and everyone started crowding closer to get a better view. Marshall groaned as a group of teenagers shoved past him, nearly spilling their hot chocolates.

“Do people not have manners anymore?” he grumbled.

“Welcome to the 21st century,” you replied, laughing.

---

As the countdown began, the energy in the square was electric. Jackie clapped his tiny hands, mimicking the cheers around him, while the kids chanted along with the crowd.

“Three… two… one!”

The tree lit up in a dazzling display of multicolored lights, and everyone erupted into applause. Jackie’s eyes widened, and he let out a loud giggle, pointing at the tree with both hands.

“Look at him,” Marshall said, leaning down to ruffle Jackie’s hat. “Kid’s loving it.”

“You’re loving it too,” you teased.

He gave you a half-smile. “Maybe a little.”

---

The family took a walk around the square after the lighting, stopping to admire the decorations and the ice sculpture of Santa Claus. The kids were laughing and chatting, and even Marshall seemed to be enjoying himself, despite his earlier grumbling.

At one point, Jackie got fussy, so you picked him up from the stroller and cradled him in your arms. He immediately calmed down, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Told you I’m the favorite,” you said smugly to Marshall.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, though he couldn’t hide the affectionate look on his face.

“Alright,” Hailie said, coming up beside you. “Can we take a family selfie in front of the tree before we go?”

“Do we have to?” Marshall asked, already dreading it.

“Yes!” the kids said in unison.

“Fine,” he relented, pulling out his phone. “But if my face ends up on some weird Christmas meme, I’m blaming all of you.”

As everyone huddled together in front of the dazzling Christmas tree, Marshall held his phone out, trying to angle it for the perfect selfie.

“Everyone smile,” he said, his voice laced with mock irritation. “And no bunny ears, Stevie. I’m serious.”

Stevie grinned mischievously but kept her hands to herself. Hailie leaned in close to Jackie, who was perched on your hip, babbling away as if he were trying to direct the photo. Alaina was on your other side, holding a steaming cup of hot cocoa.

“Alright, ready?” Marshall asked. “Three, two—"

Before he hit the shutter, Marshall turned to you with a mischievous glint in his eye. Without warning, he leaned in and stole a kiss, his lips pressing against yours softly but confidently.

“Marshall!” you laughed, pulling back slightly as the kids erupted into groans and laughter.

“Dad!” Hailie exclaimed, rolling her eyes dramatically. “We’re taking a picture, not a rom-com scene.”

“Couldn’t help myself,” Marshall said with a smirk, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Jackie squealed, smacking his tiny hands together, clearly delighted by the sudden burst of affection.

“Great, now Jackie’s rooting for him,” Stevie teased.

“Okay, okay,” Alaina said, shaking her head but smiling. “Can we actually take the picture now?”

“Fine, but I make no promises,” Marshall quipped, still grinning as he adjusted the phone again.

“Marshall, behave,” you said, giving him a playful nudge.

“I’m always behaving,” he replied, his tone light and teasing. “You’re the one distracting me.”

The family finally managed to get the picture, though there were still a few blurry outtakes from the chaos. In the end, it didn’t matter; the laughter and warmth captured in the photo were worth every bit of trouble.

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics with a fake/pretend relationship during Christmas holidays as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

— Louis/Harry —

🎄 Mistletoe's For Two by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel

(E, 90k, enemies to lovers) After an encounter in a coffee shop with the rudest man he's ever met, Louis hopes the city is just big enough that he'll never bump into him again. When he spots that man at a bar the following evening, a plan begins to form. 

🎄 Let Our Hearts Collide by @crinkle-eyed-boo

(M, 76k, While You Were Sleeping au) When Harry, a lonely transit worker, saves the life of the handsome commuter he's been secretly pining for, an innocent mistake results in Liam Payne's family believing that Harry is engaged to their son.

🎄 Chestnuts Roasting... And All That by elsi_bee / @elsi-bee

(M, 46k, roommates) It’s not a big deal to just tell his new colleagues that he has a boyfriend, right? Until he has to make this imaginary boyfriend magically appear at the office holiday party.

🎄 I Keep Looking For Magic by @lululawrence

(NR, 36k, strangers to lovers) Harry loves Christmas, but this year is special. After ten years of boyfriends all failing to ever meet Harry's family, Harry has a fiance to introduce and things are looking like they will be perfect. Until they break up.

🎄 Harry, Did You Know (that your baby boy, is married to his best friend?) by tempolarriefics / @tempolarriefix

(E, 35k, marriage pact) 10 years ago, Louis and Zayn made a pact that if they weren't married by 30, they'd marry each other. So they do, as best mates do.

🎄 Find You Home by @kingsofeverything

(E, 35k, roommates) When Louis lies to his family and says he’ll bring his new boyfriend home for Christmas, his best friend and roommate Harry agrees to play the part. It’s that, or be left alone over the holidays.

🎄 From the Start by @allwaswell16

(E, 32k, viral video) Louis has no idea that one act of kindness will cause his life to spiral out of control. But that's what happens when his new friend fake proposes to him and a video of it goes viral.

🎄 Lovin' you is a gift by @softfonds

(E, 25k, Pretty Woman au) With his 28th birthday approaching, Louis was looking forward to celebrating in New York City with an all-expenses paid trip. He just didn't expect to spend it with an escort when he suddenly finds himself single a few days before it.

🎄 under the rain or under the snow by MquietMiNd

(E, 20k, exes) Christmas AU where they broke up a month ago but Harry shows up at Louis’ childhood home for the holidays. 

🎄 Wrapped in Red by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(T, 15k, strangers to lovers) Louis backs himself into a corner and has two days to find a date to bring to the Horan Family's big annual Christmas party to both appease his mother, and show up an ex-boyfriend.

🎄 The Christmas Lift by @homosociallyyours

(G, 13k, neighbors) Louis lies about having a boyfriend to avoid being set up on a blind date by an overzealous co-worker, but now he's in desperate need of a fake boyfriend for his office holiday party. 

🎄 the fake zarry au (series) by zita17 / @louisandtheaquarian

(M, 13k, famous/not famous) A fake dating with a twist famous/not-famous enemies to friends to secret lovers where Larry and Ziam fall in love behind the scenes while Zarry bicker in public.

🎄 Not Another Lonely Christmas by @haztobegood

(E, 8k, set up) the one where the friend Niall sets up as Harry's fake boyfriend turns out to be Gemma's best friend Louis

🎄 A Story For the Ages by @fallinglikethis

(NR, 7k, strangers to lovers) After seven months of pretending to have a boyfriend in order to keep his mum from meddling in his love li fe again, he should have realized he’d have to actually introduce her to someone eventually.

🎄 A Boyfriend for Christmas by Chelsea Frew / @chelsea-frew

(G, 5k, strangers to lovers) Louis' co-worker, Gemma, asks Louis to be her date for Christmas dinner. 

🎄 Christmas Pretenders by @larryatendoftheday

(T, 4k, baker Harry) When Niall convinced Louis to come home with him for the holidays as his fake boyfriend, he never expected he'd run into the loveliest man he'd ever seen.

— Rare Pairs —

🎄 'Cause I Could Be The One by justyrae

(M, 14k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) "Just remember," Louis says, gently touching Nick's wrist before he can open the front door. "You're proper in love with me, no matter how much of a dick I can be."

🎄 Snowflakes & Mistletoe by Justonebreathx

(E, 5k, Zayn/Liam) Liam is in desperate need of a fake boyfriend for his company's Christmas dinner, so he puts an ad on Craigslist thinking that’s the only way he can find one. 

[sweetbutpsychobutsweet]

Like We Used To Be

Chapter 4

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Thorin attempts to extend an olive branch to you, but the arrival of some new allies might put a further strain on your already complicated relationship,

Warnings: canon typical violence, jealous!Thorin, angst, no use of y/n

author's note: I'm truly blown away by the amount of support I've already received on the last few chapters. I hope you're ready for tomorrow when I post the 5th installment because things are about to SERIOUSLY heat up🥵

Word count: 1740

“Where did you two go to if I may ask?” Thorin demands of you as soon as he is freed from his burlap sack.

“To look ahead,” Gandalf replies at the same time you say: “none of your business.”

The two men start discussing the possibility of a cave nearby but you have already stalked off to re-gather your things. It would probably be safe to assume the group will no longer wish to stay in this spot. You’re shoving blankets and food back into your bag when you hear someone approaching from behind. 

Not just someone. You already know it’s him before he even speaks your name, but you refuse to turn around and look at him. 

“Are you alright?” he asks gently.

“Me?” you turn around with a laugh. “I’m perfectly fine, you’re the one who was almost eaten by mountain trolls.”

“We had it handled,” he grumbles.

“Right,” you drawl with one eyebrow raised, “that’s why half of you were in burlap sacks while the rest were roasting over the fire like chestnuts. Is there a reason you followed me over here, or were you just hoping to worsen my already sour mood?”

He chuckles and looks down at his feet, “I can’t recall the last time I saw you in a good mood.”

“I can,” you whisper. Judging by the look on his face you can tell there is no need to elaborate for him that back before everything went wrong between the two of you, simply seeing him walk into the room would be enough to put a smile on your face.

He looks up at you with those piercing blue eyes and you force yourself to avert your gaze, knowing if you let yourself look too long you’ll be done for.

“About what I said earlier,” he clears his throat and clasps his hands behind his back as he takes a cautious step closer to you. “I’d like to apologize. Of course, you are as much a dwarf as the rest of us. Erebor is your home as well as mine”

You look up at him again in surprise. An apology from Thorin is a rare thing indeed. Could what Gandalf said be true? Does he respect you?

He takes another step closer to you and you can practically feel the warmth radiating off of him. If he sees the blush creeping into your cheeks he makes no mention of it.

“I regret that every interaction we have had on this journey has been so…”

“Hostile?” you offer breathlessly and he chuckles lowly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

“Yes,” he admits, “I do hope, that by the time we reach Erebor, we can find a way to become… friends. Like we used to be.” his fingers gently brush up against yours, slowly starting to interlace them together, one by one. 

“Like we used to be,” you repeat back in a whisper. 

Like we used to be before you left me behind a bitter voice in your head reminds you. And all at once your ill feelings towards him come rushing back in. 

You yank your fingers out of his grip and step away from him.

“Things have changed a great deal since then, Thorin,” you remind him. “We’re not children anymore, we’re not the same people we used to be. I think it's time we both accept that and move on.”

His jaw clenches like he has something to say, but he just nods at you and interlaces his hands behind his back as if to resist reaching for yours again. 

“Very well, if that is how you truly feel we will speak no more of it.” he clears his throat anxiously. “We believe we’ve found a troll cave nearby, the others are waiting to investigate.”

He turns on his heel without another word and takes off in that direction. 

You follow a ways behind him, wondering to yourself all the while: what would have happened if you had said yes?

------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You are being hunted!” Gandalf cries as Thorin’s sword drips with the blood of the slain Warg at his feet.

With all of your ponies now long gone, and an orc pack suddenly on your tail, the company has no choice but to try and outrun them.

Your lungs burn and your legs ache as you keep pushing further and further through the clearing. Putting all of the strength you have into making it to the one rock formation large enough to conceal you all from your pursuers. 

“Where are you leading us?” Thorin asks Gandalf suspiciously. He refuses to answer, shooting a look in your direction that gives you a feeling that wherever it is, Thorin is not going to be happy about it. 

Wherever it is has to be better than here you think to yourself, as one of the orc scouts and his Warg hop atop your hiding spot, inches away from discovering you all concealed below. 

Before he can find you, Kili steps out far enough to shoot the Orc off, sending him tumbling to the grass by your feet. 

The small victory is short-lived however because now the rest of the pack knows where you are.

You’re all forced to run again in vain. Only to find yourselves surrounded on all sides, with Gandalf nowhere to be seen.

“He’s abandoned us!” someone shouts.

“Hold your ground!” Thorin commands from somewhere behind you.

Despite the ache in your arms you hold your twin blades up high, prepared to put up a fight until the very end.

“This way you fools!” calls Gandalf from behind another rock.

You follow the rest to find the wizard at the entrance to a steep rocky slope into a hidden cave below. You don’t fight Thorin as he offers you a hand to make your way down to join the others, tumbling down shortly after you.

The sounds of the orc pack still pursuing you come from outside but are quickly silenced by the unexpected blaring of a horn and the whistling of arrows. 

A slain orc falls down into your cave with one such arrow lodged in his flesh.

Thorin pulls it out and you both already know its origin before he grumbles: “Elves”

The mental map in your head now tells you exactly where you are, and without a second thought you take off running down the narrow pathway, the rest of the dwarves calling after you in protest.

You stop in awe at the familiar scenery before you.

“The valley of Imladris,” Gandalf announces, “in the common tongue it’s known by another name.” 

“Rivendell,” you and Bilbo both whisper in unison

“Here lies the last homely house east of the sea,” Gandalf says affectionately.

“This was your plan all along,” Thorin accuses him, “ to seek refuge with our enemy.”

You look over at him and scoff, “Would you rather take your chances with the orcs?”

“You have no enemies here Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf assures him. “The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself.”

“In that case, Rivendell is about to become a very hostile environment,” you mumble to yourself but Thorin elects to ignore you.

“You think the elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us!” he protests,

“Of course, they will!” agrees Gandalf, “but we have questions that need to be answered. If we are to be successful this will need to be handled with tact and respect. And no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to the two of us.” Gandalf declares, nodding in your direction.

“The nicer you are the sooner we get to leave,” you translate for Thorin with a condescending pat on the shoulder before taking off down the path towards Rivendell.

“Mithrandir!” Lindir greets Gandalf as he descends the elegant staircase before the two begin conversing in Elvish. 

“Stay sharp,” Thorin warns the others. And you roll your eyes at the tension your kin are so clearly maintaining while in a beautiful place such as this.

“I must speak with Lord Elrond,” Gandalf says switching back to the common tongue.

“My Lord Elrond is not here,” Lindir replies apologetically.

“Not here? Where is he?” Gandalf questions in alarm.

But it is short-lived with yet another blaring of a now familiar horn.

“Close ranks!” Thorin shouts in alarm as an elven group on horseback approaches. 

“Lord Elrond!” Gandalf greets the elf as he dismounts his horse before responding to the wizard in elvish.

“Strange for orcs to come so close to our borders, something or someone has drawn them near.”

“That would be us,” you offer from behind him with a smile.

Elrond turns sharply at the sound of your voice, his face lighting up in excitement as he calls your name.

“My darling! It's been too long since you’ve graced these halls!” you laugh as he pulls you into a warm embrace. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to make the journey sooner, but I have so much to share with you!”

“I imagine you do!” he replies, “why don’t you start by telling me what a lovely creature such as yourself is doing traveling with a group of brutes such as this?”

You turn to look back at Thorin, who has a fierce scowl on his face as he stares directly at the place on your arm where Elrond’s hand still rests.

“Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain!” the elven lord greets him.

“I do not believe we have met,” he replies curtly.

“You have your grandfather’s bearing,” Elrond responds, paying no attention to Thorin’s hostile tone. “I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain.”

“Indeed?” Thorin curls his fists at his side, “he made no mention of you.”

“Thorin! Be nice,” you warn him.

Lord elrond takes another step closer to him and starts to speak in the elvish tongue.

“What is he saying?” Gloin shouts in alarm, “Does he offer us insult?”

“No master Gloin,” Gandalf assured him, “he is offering you food.”

The dwarves take a moment to discuss amongst themselves, but you already know what their answer will be.

“Ah well,” Gloin says, “in that case lead on.”

Lord Elrond politely offers his arm to you, and you make a point of glaring back at Thorin before accepting it as the elf lord leads you up the stairs.

Next Chapter

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