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tinydeskwriter · 1 year ago

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Lando NorrisxWolff!reader

words: 2825

requested: no

A/n: This is going to be a multi-chapters, most of the chapters won't be social midia or something. It is going to 'follow' the 2023 F1 season. Reader is Toto's eldest child by a fictitious ex- first wife. I just watched Break Point, with is another sport Netflix docuseries from the same producing company that makes DST, and since then I have this idea of a prodigy tennis player reader.

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GQ 10 things Y/n Wolff can’t live without

“Hi GQ, I am Y/n Wolff and here are my essentials.” The young woman opens her arms looking at the objects displayed on the table, before looking up and smiling to the camera.

# Sugar

“My trainer may not agree. My coaches may not agree. My performance coach may not agree. My parents definitely don’t agree.” She points out, “But I need sugar.” The young woman brings to the centre of the table a small pile of sweets, a tall cup of caffeinated drink and a can of Red Bull, “I live of sugar and… sugary things…”

“My day starts with this lovely peppermint iced mocha sweetened with vanilla sugar… a ton of vanilla sugar.” Y/n laughs taking a sip of her drink “I am weirdly obsessed with mint and chocolate combinations…” She comments looking at the camera, “I drink perhaps two or three of those per day,” The young woman then places her hand over the top of the Red Bull can, most people who follow her already know that she is an athlete sponsored by Red Bull, “sugar-free Red Bull, which ironically is sweeter than the regular one.” She puts her hand on the pile of chocolates, “Milk-chocolate, I am not going to lie and say that I eat the healthy stuff, I don’t, I have the taste buds of a child,” the tennis player smiles mischievously at the camera, “right now I am really into this Finnish chocolate, Geisha and the blue Fazer, daddy always keep those in his offices for me.” She wrinkles her nose a little, giving the camera a lovely—childish—smile.

“Aero Mint bar, Chocolate Orange, Maltesers, Bounty, Kinder, truffles…I'm honestly starting to wonder how we managed to get through customs.” She laughs looking at her entourage behind the cameras. “This is like… a fraction of what I usually travel with, this is more like what I have in my bag for the day.”

#Photos

Y/n played a little with a golden square object in her hand.

“I travel a lot, I am on the road from January to November playing at tournaments around the world, so I can’t always be surrounded or in touch with the people that I love,” she says in a slightly more serious tone, taking the golden case in her hands and pressing the button to open, showing pile of polaroid photos, “those are mini Polaroids, so I can bring them with me wherever I go, I keep them inside this vintage cigarette case that belonged to my maternal grandmother, she was a absolute rockstar and I miss her very much.” The camera takes a close-up on the golden case with rope motif and small colourful stones. “As I don’t smoke, I had to find another use for it.”

The first photo she shows is five adults together, smiling around a table, in what appears to be a ski resort.

“I have a very patchwork family, and somehow the adults in my life made it work…which I am very grateful for, not everyone is lucky to have so many amazing parents…so here I have my mum and my two other mothers, Stephanie and Susie, papa and my other father, Phillippe,” the second photo is her with a boy not much younger than her, two teenage girls and a small child in front of a Christmas tree, “my siblings, I have four, I am the eldest whatever way you go, huge flex,” the photo is followed by one of a pyjama party with several girls in matching pyjamas, and another of the tennis player with a blonde in front of the Eiffel Tower, “My gurls! This is my best friend, she is also my PA… so amazing to have someone I trust so much with me all the time…” a golden cocker spaniel with a crystal necklace, silk bows in its ears and a Gucci sweater appears on the screen, “this is Éclair Wolff, my emotional support dog aka my child, she actually goes with me mostly everywhere, but sometimes I leave her with my mum so she won’t be stressed by the long flights.”

She points to the next three photos, the first has the Mercedes drivers in Tommy Hilfinger, posing for the photo. “Lew and Georgie, the adopted older brothers I never asked for, but I love them.” The second photo has three other familiar faces making faces at the camera, “C2, my Ferrari boys, feat Pear, there is something wholesome about good looking men looking so silly, I love those guys and I love this picture, it is very on brand with them.” The tennis player smiles at the camera. “Sharls, Carlitos and Pear are three of the nicest guys I have ever met, it is truly a blessing be able to call them friends and having them in my life.”

McLaren driver Lando Norris, in his third or fourth season, apparently not even realizing he was having his photo taken, it's a spontaneous photo, the soft sunlight highlighting the driver's profile as he smiles.

“Because of karting, I’ve known Lando since I was a head taller than him, he was my first crush…he was so shy, so adorable, so babygirl coded.” Y/n blushed a little as she shows the photo.

“I think most of the current grid is in here…oh, look, it’s Lance! Friends from life, from tennis…” She quickly changes showing another photo. “I think I easily have about sixty photos here..."

#Camera

“I don’t have a specific camera I like more than the others, but as a rule, I prefer vintage cameras just for the beauty of the final result, I inherited a few, I bought a few, I usually develop the photos when I'm at home for longer periods of time, edit the videos, digitalize a few…” She points to the cameras in front of her, a Bolex, a Digital Bolex, a very iconic Rolleiflex and a Super 8, “It is a very nostalgic experience to just go through a year worth of memories…” She says resting her face in her hand, “I have a hundred boxes with pictures and film rolls.”

“I love going through old pictures with my mom and Cass, my younger sister, from when we were babies, my parents in the 90’s, my mom when she was young, the wonderful life my grandparents lived, and is such a lovely moment to share with my mom.” Y/n has a soft smile on her lips. “One day, when I have my own kids, I want to have those moments with them, and not just scrolling through a phone or an iPad.”

#Journals

“I keep journals since I was a child, I get a new one every year,” She holds up the leather hardcover notebook, a deep indigo blue, a little worn around the edges, “after I turned thirteen years old, I started to get it in this specific shade of blue, with my initials in gold,” The girl opens the journal, leafing through it briefly, “I am never going to write an auto-biography, it’s kind of a little bit too egocentric to my taste,” She knocks it closed, but keeps it up, looking at the camera as she speaks , “but if someone ever write about me, fifty years from now… the facts will be straight, at least from my point of view… but even if no one ever writes about me… when I am old and grey and memory starts to fail me, I will be able to come back to the thoughts of twenty years old me…”

There is a moment of silence.

“That was kind of dark.” Y/n laughs to break the tension.

#Art Supplies

“I love to draw and paint, it eases the anxieties of life,” The tennis player shows the large sketchbook, a small aluminium case with the watercolours, and the rolling leather case with pencils and brushes, “I always bring a watercolour travel kit with my sketchbook wherever I go.”

She displays for the internet some of the landscapes she painted during her travels around the world.

#Hoodies

“I like to be comfortable after a match,” she spreads her arms across the perfectly folded hoodies on the table, “and nothing is more comfortable than a hoodie, feels a little bit like home.”

“I have my collection of hoodies with Adidas, they always provide me with new cool colours to try out and see if I want to add to the next collection,” Y/n opens sage green hoodie, running her hand over her initials and the Adidas logo. “Enchanté by Dani Ric, I have a bunch of those, Daniel is always kind enough to drop them at my house in Monaco, VIP treatment baby.” She points to the white hoodie. “Quadrant hoodies, Lando’s merch, ridiculously comfy, I would really like them in pastel colours or dusty rose… just putting out to the universe…” Y/n smiles and winks at the camera. “Valtteri, MV1… those all came with me for the US Open.”

#Skincare

“This is part of my daily routine.” The girl opens the toiletry bag, taking out the products inside, “I am always in different countries and different hotel rooms, so is nice to have this little sense of routine.”

She lines the pearlescent bottles with opaque round lids on top of the table.

“I launched Muse when I was seventeen years old, it is my skincare brand, and it is very me. I wanted it to be un-complicated and complete,” The young woman explains passionately looking at the camera, “skin is the body’s largest organ, and it is not only your face.” It affects the hair on your face, tucking it behind your ear before going back to the product bottles. “The line goes from body wash to suncream to night-time routine.”

#Travel Pillow

“If I mess up my neck and shoulder, I am f***ed, my match is over and possibly the tournament.” She holds up a medium-sized pillow to the camera, the pillowcase light pink silk with red buttonholes around the edges and her initials in the corner. “So, this baby goes with me everywhere, it is a memory foam pillow with a silk pillowcase. Best sleep, best hair.”

#Sport Gear

“I generalized here, sport gear, I travel heavy, always,” she points to the array of equipment on the table, “this is my racket, I go to each tournament with around ten of those, just in case I wreak one on the ground,” Y/n passes her hand over the racket, “those are custom Yonex Ezone 98, they made it in Mountbatten pink with some cool pattern and my initials,” she smiles as she pulls the helmet close to her chest, “my helmet, also custom Mountbatten pink, with my initials in rose, I love to try new karting tracks, most people don’t know I used to race karts when I was younger, won a couple of trophies, went as far as F3 before I choose to go pro with tennis, car racing is a huge thing in my family…my dad used to race, my stepmom was a driver, my little brother probably going to be a F1 driver,” she recounts with a smile, “I joked once with my dad that we are at a window that if I have a kid in the next year or two, in twenty years we can have a Wolff’s drivers line-up for Mercedes.” The young woman smirks to the camera. “My dad almost passed out, and now I am not allowed to date until I am thirty.”

#Headphones

“Those are custom made for me, again, they are Mountbatten pink and rose with my logo, super comfortable on the ears, I usually have problems with headphones due to the piercings and earrings, but these didn't give me any problems, they fit well, and I can spend the whole day wearing them." She takes the gadget out of the case, showing the details. “It's not wireless, because I always forget to charge it, so it has a wire, they made this lovely, thick cord that is durable and super resistant,” Y/n wraps the rope around her fingers, “it is noise cancelling and it is always with me before every match as an essential part of my pre-match rituals.”

“The right music kind of puts you in the right mood, I usually go with Eminem in 80% of my matches, I feel like it unleashes my inner fighter, these are matches where I'm not really worried about my opponent, it is just raw and a little bit thoughtless, I just play,” she comments, “when I know that my opponent is going to be hard on the mind games, which is not an uncommon move in tennis, I tend to listen to calmer and more melancholic music, piano, it keeps me in a more peaceful zone, I don’t get pumped up and full of adrenaline, my game tends to be far more calculated…”

“That’s it. Those were my ten essentials,” the young woman smiles, “thank you, GQ, for allowing me to share my essentials, much appreciated, and thank you guys for taking the time to watch it! Much love and see you next time!” The athlete says, blowing a kiss and winking to the camera as the credits shows up.

__________________________________________

2,109,963 views Aug 29, 2022

978 Comments

userone

i was todays yrs old when i found out that tennis superstar Y/n Wolff is the eldest child of THE Toto Wolff

user1

From what little she talks about her dad here, u just get the vibes that Merce boss Toto is a softie girl dad, he keeps her favourite candy in his offices and forbids her to date until she’s thirty, this is so sweet

haterone

a billionaire’s nepo baby, talking about her millionaire friends and her unrelatable lifestyle and things

usertwo

Y/n’s hair is probably the healthiest hair i ever seen i need her hair routine

userthree

I am so obsessed with her career! I want to see her continue to succeed and be one of the biggest tennis players of all times. She deserves it. Such a talented, humble kid.

userfour

i loved hearing her talk about her family and friends!!! it is so crazy that she is close friends with a bunch of F1 drivers.

hatertwo

Not so crazy since she’s literally a f1 nepo baby, her daddy is part owner of Mercedes.

userfive

She's like that one super popular chick in school who's actually a total sweetheart.

usersix

I totally relate to her being a sweet tooth

@userseven

I love that she was not talking to the camera. She was actually talking to the people there behind the scenes

usereight

i love how a lot of these items are usually a stereotype of being pretentious—a vintage cartier cigarette case, a film camera, a leather bound custom hermes journal, art supplies--but she talks about all of them with such genuine interest and attachment that it doesnt seem pretentious at all

usereighteen

U r the one name dropping the brands she uses…

usernine

Her nicknames for Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr and Pierre Gasly… I died dead…

user9

The fact that she’s gushing about lando and being so sweet about her childhood crush on him oml

user10

Omg it is so cuuute!!! Like, she had a crush on little Lando and not McLaren glow up Lando Norris

user11

I used to be so conflicted shipping her with the drivers, because she dates that tennis player, but her insta has a bunch of her and Charles and her and Pierre and her and Lance and it is so cute and kind of gives such soft vibes, those boys look half in love with her in most pictures, also ...the chemistry. but seeing the way she talks about Lando… they r my new diehard ship…

userten

Are we going to ignore that she confessed that Lando Norizz was her first crush???

user1

They would be so cute together… and they ate both single now… at the same time… we can dream…

user12

i went ten steps further and in my head, they are already getting married and having cute future Mercedes world drivers’ champions…

user13

Can we already dream of Lando at Mercedes???

usereleven

Ok… but didn’t Lando once commented like, very briefly, in a McLaren video, that he used to have a crush on a girl that used to go karting with him??? The girl who wore red ribbons in her hair… do you guys know who uses red ribbons in heir hair since she was an actual baby?? Y/n! There is a pic in her insta of her in a karting track with her dad, and she has red bows in her hair…

user11

Not gonna lie… It would be kinda of cute if they actually had a mutual childhood crush and then eventually end up together as adults…

next part»

#f1 imagine #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #f1 grid x reader #wolff!reader #lando norris #charles leclerc x reader #pierre gasly x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lance stroll x reader #toto wolff x reader

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inkspiredwriting · 4 months ago

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Snapshots of Love

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: Hey guys surprise surprise. I'm posting another one shot today because unfortunately I won't be able to do it tomorrow. Have a great day :)

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves sighed as he walked into the cozy living room of their home, rubbing his eyes after a long day of work. As he stepped inside, he noticed a familiar scene that instantly brightened his mood: his wife Y/n sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by a scatter of old photo albums.

Y/n looked up from a particularly thick album and smiled warmly at Five. "Hey, I found something interesting in the attic today."

Five raised an eyebrow and walked over to her, intrigued. "Is that so? What did you find?"

She patted the spot next to her, and he sat down, leaning in to see the open pages filled with photographs. "I found this old photo album. It’s full of pictures from our life."

Five’s eyes softened as he gazed at the album, a flood of memories rushing back. "I remember that album. I didn’t think we still had it."

Y/n chuckled and flipped through the pages, revealing snapshots of their journey together. "Here, look at this one."

The photo showed a much younger Five and Y/n, standing in front of the Eiffel Tower, grinning from ear to ear. Five was holding a map upside down, looking completely lost, while Y/n was laughing hysterically.

“I remember that trip,” Five said, a smile tugging at his lips. “I insisted we didn’t need a guide, and we ended up lost for hours.”

Y/n laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Yeah, but we found that amazing little café because of it. The one with the best croissants we’ve ever had.”

Five nodded, his smile widening. “You’re right. That was worth getting lost for.”

As they continued to flip through the pages, each photograph told a story. There was a picture of them at a Halloween party, dressed in glamorous outfits. Another showed them at a garden party, looking completely out of place yet having the time of their lives.

Five paused at a picture of them in Rome, sitting on the steps of a temple at sunrise. “That sunrise was incredible,” he murmured, tracing the edges of the photograph with his finger.

Y/n’s eyes sparkled with nostalgia. “I remember. We stayed up all night just to see it. It felt like the whole world was still asleep, and it was just us.”

The photos transitioned to more recent memories: their wedding, their first house, and the birth of their children. Five lingered on a picture of them holding their newborn daughter, Maddie, both looking exhausted yet indescribably happy.

“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” Five said softly, his voice tinged with emotion.

Y/n nodded, her eyes misting over. “We have. And look at us now. We’ve built a beautiful life together, despite everything.”

They turned to a picture of their son, Milo, his mischievous grin eerily reminiscent of Five’s. Five chuckled, shaking his head. “He’s going to be a handful, isn’t he?”

Y/n laughed, squeezing Five’s hand. “Just like his dad.”

The last page of the album held a recent photo: the entire Hargreeves family, including five’s siblings, gathered around a Christmas tree, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

“We’ve had our ups and downs,” Five said, his voice filled with gratitude. “But I wouldn’t trade any of it for the world.”

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes filled with love. “Neither would I. We’ve made some incredible memories, and I can’t wait to make even more with you.”

Five wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. “Here’s to many more adventures, Y/n.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, the album open in front of them, reminiscing about the past and dreaming of the future. Five pressed a gentle kiss to Y/n’s temple, feeling a deep sense of contentment.

As they closed the album, Five looked at Y/n with a tender smile. “Thank you for finding this, Y/n. It’s a reminder of how strong we are together.”

Y/n leaned into him, her heart full. “Always, Five. No matter what the future holds, we’ll face it together.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the memories of their past, Five and Y/n felt more connected than ever, ready to take on whatever adventures life had in store for them next.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #five hargreeves

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fakebwitch · 2 months ago

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christmas with rafe

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•

I feel like he never really had a close family so when it came to Christmas he never celebrate it like would do almost all family, eating all together to a decorated table laughing while telling story about the past and then unwrapping all the presents; maybe this had happened when he was a child but since ward started dating several women, none of this has happened anymore.

that’s why rafe doesn’t care that much about Christmas, but you on the other hand, you loved it. when it came to november for you it was already time to decorate all the house, and of course you would made rafe help you do it.

Christmas with rafe would turn into something magical, even if he didn’t fully understand it at first. spending time with your family would soften him in ways he didn’t think were possible. he’d catch himself smiling at your dad’s jokes or teasing your younger siblings, slipping into the rhythm of the holiday chaos like he’d always been there. he wasn’t used to this, kindness without expectations, but you could see how much he craved it. he’d lean into it, letting himself enjoy the simplicity of it all: the food, the stories, the sense of belonging.

later, when it was just the two of you, he’d sit with you by the tree, his arm slung lazily over your shoulders. the lights would reflect in his eyes as he looked at you, a rare, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

on Christmas morning, he’d be up earlier than you, surprisingly eager to watch you open the gift he picked out for you. it wouldn’t be something random, it would be thoughtful, something that showed just how well he’d been paying attention to everything you love. the way he’d look at you as you unwrapped it would be worth more than any present, his expression full of quiet pride and hope that you loved it.

“rafe…” you would say at loss of words, your heart full of happiness. “i knew you’ve been wanting this for a long time, and that’s the bare minimum to thank for you for—” you would quickly shut him, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding tightly into him. “i freaking love it so much babe… and you don’t have to thank me for anything ” you would say, his hands finding their place on your waist, a little smile threatening to appear on his face as you placed a soft kiss on his lips.

and when it was his turn to open his gift, he’d act cool about it at first, but you’d catch the way his lips twitched up in a smile when he saw what you got him. “how’d you know?” he’d ask, even though the answer was obvious: you knew him better than anyone.

as the day went on, rafe would fall deeper into the feeling of belonging, a quiet sort of joy settling in his chest. he’d sit with your family at the dinner table, watching everyone pass dishes around, laughing over shared stories. when dessert was served, maybe your grandmother would pull out old photo albums, flipping through your childhood. at first, rafe might feel like an outsider, but you’d tug him closer, pointing out silly moments from your past and making him laugh. your family would share their own memories—some happy, some bittersweet—and he’d listen quietly, taking it all in. for the first time, he’d start to understand what it meant to have a real family, not just people who shared a name or a house, but a bond.

by the end of the day, he’d realize that for the first time in a long time, Christmas wasn’t just another day for him. it was something he wanted to hold on to—something you helped him rediscover. from that Christmas on, rafe wouldn’t just tolerate the holiday, he’d look forward to it. he’d help you decorate without complaint (mostly), bake cookies with you even though he always burned them, and spend every Christmas morning watching your face light up as you opened gifts. because for him, Christmas wasn’t just about the day anymore. It was about the love, the laughter, and the family he found with you.

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey x reader #outer banks #outer banks x reader #x reader #christmas

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rheanyraaaa · 3 months ago

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Robb Stark Modern Christmas AU Headcannons

here y’all go, some christmas au headcannons for Robb:

Robb is the kind of guy who starts getting into the holiday spirit the moment December rolls. He’s the one insisting on putting the tree up right after Thanksgiving.

He has a box of childhood ornaments saved from Winterfell, and each one has a story behind it. He tells you about the time Bran accidentally broke the angel topper and cried until Robb glued it back together.

He goes all out with lights, wreaths, and even mistletoe strategically placed in your apartment purely for romantic purposes.

Robb loves wearing Christmas sweaters, but he’s more into the classic, cozy ones than the over-the-top ugly ones..

He’s also a sucker for holiday drinks: eggnog, peppermint hot chocolate, mulled wine you name it. He’ll make a habit of brewing something festive while you watch Christmas movies together.

He’s all about family during the holidays. He plans trips to Winterfell (a big country house in this AU) to spend Christmas with the Starks. He gets nostalgic about big family dinners.

He ropes you into Secret Santa with his siblings, warning you that Arya is impossible to shop for and that Jon always pretends he doesn’t care but secretly loves thoughtful gifts.

Robb takes gift-giving seriously. He’ll spend weeks trying to find the perfect present for you, something meaningful and personal. He might even make something by hand if he feels inspired.

One year, he surprises you with a photo album of all your memories together, with little notes scribbled under each picture.

He’s ridiculously easy to shop for, though. A nice scarf or a new book, and he’s thrilled but he’ll act like it’s the best gift in the world.

He loves taking you to outdoor Christmas markets, holding your hand while you browse stalls for trinkets and snacks.

Ice skating is a must, even if he’s a little wobbly at first. He’s that guy who tries to show off and ends up falling, dragging you down with him, but you both end up laughing.

Robb wakes up early on Christmas morning, just like when he was a kid. He’ll nudge you awake, grinning like an excited puppy, insisting that you open stockings together in bed.

——————————————————————————

tags!!:

@samieree @maysileeewrites

#asoiaf #robb stark #robb stark imagines #robb stark x reader #robb stark x y/n

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misshoneyimhome · 2 months ago

Note

Since it’s Christmas season, Inexperienced reader felt like being a brat and wanted to test William’s patience with Alex living with them and family coming to visit she decided she wanted to be on the naughty list. She decided her to leave her panties and little pictures of herself and leave in his suite case, car, and his space in the locker room to remind him what’s he’s missing after she’s his good girl but sometimes she’s needs a reminder who’s in charge.

Happy holidays, love! 🥰

To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure how this piece would turn out, but I decided to just go with the flow 🙈🎄 Because, of course, Inexperienced!reader and Willy deserve both a loving and slightly naughty Christmas 😘💋

I hope you enjoy this little chapter, and once again, happy holidays to everyone! Sending you all lots of love ❤️

Tropes & warnings: 18+ smut, Inexperienced!reader x Willy, naughty photoshoot, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, sex toy (magic wand), unprotected sex (p in v), cum inside

Word count: 3.8K

➼｡ﾟ

A Nonsense Christmas I Inexperienced!reader x Willy

The sound of holiday classics drifted softly through the apartment as you straightened a sprig of mistletoe over the kitchen threshold. Outside, snow dusted the city, blanketing everything in a hush. Inside, fairy lights twinkled, gifts waited under the tree, and the scent of cinnamon and pine wafted through every room. It was Christmas season—cosy, lovely, and oh so warm. But beneath all that sugary sweetness, you’d decided to stir up something a little spicy.

You’d caught wind of his photoshoot—William’s—just last week. A sleek magazine spread had left your cheeks warm, your heart fluttering, cunt dripping, and a wicked little idea forming in your mind. After over a year together, this was your chance to be a holiday tease, to see what happened when you tested William’s patience in your own cheeky, festive way. You wanted to be his good girl, truly you did, but sometimes a holiday needed a little naughtiness to make it truly memorable.

The apartment you shared with William was a merry chaos this December. Family was due to arrive in a few days—parents, siblings, a few cousins—and Alex, his brother, was already living with you both for a while. The space was full of laughter, good food, and the comfortable bustle of the holidays. But it also meant privacy was scarce, and that made your plan all the more thrilling. If William wanted to stay calm and collected, well, you were about to see just how far you could push him.

You started small. The first surprise was a pair of delicate, lacy red panties, tucked subtly into his training bag before he left for practice. When he opened it to grab a spare hoodie, he’d find that little gift waiting, a silent, provocative message. You imagined his face—slightly flushed, brows raised, that crooked smirk tugging at his lips—wondering what you were up to.

Later that afternoon, while he was gone, you dressed up in a dark green satin robe trimmed with faux white fur at the collar—festive, yet undeniably sensual. Underneath, the lingerie set you’d chosen—a daring dark red number—hugged your curves. You adjusted your phone’s timer and took a few playful selfies in front of the Christmas tree: a suggestive tilt of your hips, a knowing smile, the twinkle of lights across your bare skin. These photos were just for him. The playlist on your phone danced through holiday tunes, and right then, “A Nonsense Christmas” hummed softly, the silly, flirtatious lyrics fuelling your courage. If William’s shoot had inspired you, your own was going to leave him speechless.

You picked the best snapshot, printed it out, and placed it in a tiny envelope adorned with a candy cane sticker. That evening, when you knew he’d head out to his car to pick up Alex from wherever he’d wandered off to, he’d find that photo carefully slipped inside the glove compartment, waiting like a secret treat.

And you didn’t stop there. The next morning, while humming under your breath and sipping cocoa, you snuck into the closet where his game day suit hung. His locker room routine was sacred and placing another little Polaroid—and a pair of black lace panties—tucked inside his jacket pocket would guarantee that when he got to the match, he’d have a reminder of exactly what he was missing at home. It was risky, but that was the point. You wanted him thinking about you while trying to keep a straight face around the guys. Would he blush? Would he grin? You could almost see him pressing his lips together to hide a smirk as he discovered your latest surprise.

By the time the evening rolled around, you’d delivered those three gifts—training bag, car, and suit jacket—and you knew William’s patience was fraying beautifully. His texts had become peppered with suggestive hints and thinly veiled threats like, “Just wait until we’re alone, älskling,” and, “You’re playing with fire.” And when he came home after the third discovery, you caught a glimpse of something dark and wanting in his gaze before Alex burst in from the kitchen, cheerfully oblivious.

That night, after Alex yawned and went to his room, you found yourself finally alone with William in the dim glow of the Christmas tree’s lights in the living room. Your heart fluttered when he approached you, every step controlled, his eyes locked onto yours.

“What,” he asked softly, voice dripping with amusement and frustration, “do you think you’re doing?”

You batted your lashes, feigning innocence. “Spreading holiday cheer?” you offered sweetly. You were again in that festive robe, tied just loosely enough that he could see the barest hint of something lacy beneath. You watched his gaze drop there, then return to your face, a slow grin forming.

“You’re testing me, aren’t you?” he said, his voice low, his accent more pronounced than usual. “First my bag, then the car, and now… the game day suit, really?” His tone was incredulous, but also thrilled. He loved this side of you, the secret part of you that dared to be bold for him.

You shrugged, lips curving. “Just wanted you to remember who you’re coming home to. Maybe I wanted to make sure you keep your head in the game. Maybe I wanted to imagine how you’d look trying not to blush in front of your teammates.”

He stepped closer, catching your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger. “You’ve been very naughty,” he murmured, and heat pooled in your belly. “Leaving your panties and pictures everywhere—did you think I wouldn’t take my time teaching you a lesson when we’re finally alone?”

Your breath caught, words momentarily failing you. This was exactly what you wanted: the push and pull, the playful tension, the promise of a delightful punishment for your mischief. You arched a brow, still holding onto that last shred of bravado. “Who says I don’t like lessons?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and placed a firm hand on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I guess we’ll find out.” His breath was warm against your neck as he leaned in, trailing the faintest of kisses along your jaw. “You know what happens to brats at Christmas, don’t you?”

Your heart pounded. “They get coal?” you teased, grinning.

A wicked glint appeared in his eyes. “Oh, you’ll get something better than coal,” he promised softly. “I’m going to remind you exactly who’s in charge here.”

The surge of heat and excitement that washed over you was undeniable. You were craving this; the rush of his reaction, the tender but authoritative way he planned to show you your place in the best possible way. You had learned quickly how to push his buttons—and how gladly he would answer.

Slowly, he guided you further into the shadowed intimacy of the living room, the soft glow of the Christmas tree casting flickering patterns across his face. The faint scent of pine and cinnamon lingered in the air, but all you could really focus on was him—his steady grip on your waist, his breath warm against your skin, the way he commanded the space without even trying.

“Better than coal, huh?” you murmured, trying to keep a hint of that playful confidence, your hands steadying yourself against his chest. Your voice sounded breathier than you intended, your pulse thrumming in your ears.

His fingers toyed with the edge of your robe’s sash, knuckles grazing your belly. “Oh, much better,” he assured you, words rolling out in that low, accented purr that made your toes curl. “You’ve been pushing me, älskling. Leaving me those little surprises—in front of my teammates…” His tone turned wry. “Do you know how hard it was to keep a straight face in front of the guys? Making sure they weren’t looking over my shoulder…”

A shiver danced along your spine as you imagined him discovering your naughty gifts, struggling to hide his reaction. The thrill of it surged inside you again. “I just wanted to keep you on your toes,” you said softly, tilting your head back as his body pressed closer.

He hummed, and the sound vibrated through you. “You wanted to fucking taunt me,” he murmured, slipping one finger under the robe’s tie, pulling it loose with languid precision. “To see what I’d do when you kept teasing, kept tempting, kept acting like a brat…” He paused, the robe falling open just enough to show the lacy lingerie underneath. His gaze darkened as it swept over what you’d chosen—something festive, black, so very sheer. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You swallowed, your breath catching as his fingers skimmed along the curve of your breast, just above the lace. “Maybe,” you whispered. “Depends on what you have planned.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending another rush of heat through your veins. “Such a brave little thing,” he said, tilting your chin up again so that your eyes met his. “Don’t worry. I won’t disappoint you.”

In that gentle light, he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a slow, claiming kiss. His hand slipped lower, curling over your hip, drawing you against his body so you could feel exactly how much your antics had affected him. You gasped into his mouth when he pressed closer, the friction making your head spin, as your hands instinctively grabbed his shoulders.

“Since you wanted to show me what I’m missing,” he murmured between kisses, “it’s only fair I return the favour—show you just what happens when you push me too far.” His breath was hot against your ear now, his voice a low rumble that made your knees weaken. “We have all night. Which means I can take my time.” He let that sink in before trailing his lips along your jaw, down your neck, making you arch into him.

You were trembling, caught somewhere between daring him on and melting under his touch. Your bravado faltered as his hand trailed upward along your thigh, slipping beneath the silky robe to explore the lace edges of your lingerie. Every subtle shift of his body, every quiet hum of approval, reminded you that you were no longer in control—if you ever really had been. You’d handed over the reins the moment you decided to test his patience.

He coaxed your legs apart just enough so he could press closer, each subtle movement deliberate and sure. “So,” he said, voice low, “do you think you’ll be leaving little presents like that again without expecting payback?”

Your heart fluttered wildly as you remembered the naughty photos, the panties hidden away. You thought of his flushed cheeks when he found them, the way he must have scolded himself silently, waiting until the moment he could have you alone like this. “I—” You tried to form a witty comeback, but all that came out was a shaky breath and a quiet moan as he skimmed his fingers lightly against the lace covering your core.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to see your face. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction and something warmer—affection, pride, maybe even amusement at how easily he had unravelled you. “That’s what I thought,” he said softly. His thumb stroked over your hipbone, soothing and possessive all at once. “You’re mine tonight, älskling. All mine. And I’m going to make sure you remember exactly what that means.”

He claimed your mouth again, this time deeper, hungrier. The kiss tugged you into a haze of sensation, each slide of his tongue coaxing you away from any clever remark you might have made. A small shrug of his shoulder and your robe slipped free, floating to the floor. William’s soft, appreciating groan told you he enjoyed the view you’d curated just for him—festive, tempting, and just a touch bratty.

Without a word, he then hooked an arm under your thighs and another around your back, lifting you effortlessly. The room spun briefly as he carried you into the bedroom, and in the gentle glow of the holiday lights from down the hall, he tossed you onto the bed. The mattress dipped under your weight, springs sighing softly.

He surveyed you with hungry eyes, your chosen lingerie swiftly becoming a tattered memory scattered on the floor. The lace he’d just ripped away lay abandoned, and you could feel your pulse hammering at the base of your throat, both shocked and thrilled by his boldness. The way he’d smirked, the way he’d said “Oops” without an ounce of regret—it all sent a delicious shiver down your spine. He was completely unapologetic, and that made your stomach flip with excitement.

“Don’t worry, I’ll replace it,” he promised, voice rich and low, like he was thinking of all the ways he could compensate you—maybe with something even skimpier, more luxurious.

Your cheeks warmed at the thought, heart racing as you realised, he was already plotting future moments like this one. His fingers slid over your exposed skin, his touch deliberate and slow, a calculated assault on your senses. His knuckles grazed over your stomach, then dipped along your ribs, brushing the underside of your breast so lightly it made you arch for more. He never rushed, never forced, but he knew exactly where and how to touch you until you were squirming, trying to keep quiet with Alex asleep just down the hall.

The tension of maintaining silence only heightened your arousal. Every time you let out a stifled moan, William’s smirk deepened, satisfied with your struggle. He was taking pleasure in this secret game—knowing he had you at his mercy, that you had no choice but to stifle your cries into the pillows. The illicit thrill of it all tingled through your veins.

When his kisses trailed down your abdomen, each press of his lips and rasp of stubble sending sparks skittering along your nerves, you struggled to keep your breathing steady. He paused at your hipbone, letting his warm breath fan over that sensitive spot, before moving lower. The anticipation tightened in your chest, and when his mouth finally found the slick, heated place between your thighs, you nearly bit through your bottom lip.

He was merciless in the best way—gentle yet relentless, circling your clit with agonizing precision, his tongue working in tandem with a deft finger that simultaneously curled inside you. Your entire body sang with tension, thighs trembling as you tried desperately not to cry out. He played you like an instrument, each lick and stroke tuned to your soft gasps and whimpers. The orgasm built so quickly it shocked you, pleasure cresting like a sudden, rolling wave you couldn’t outrun. You pulled the pillow to cover your face, burying yourself into it and muffling the sharp, desperate sound that escaped as you came. William groaned appreciatively, the vibration making you shudder as you rode out the pulses of ecstasy, gripping the sheets for some sense of grounding.

When he pulled away, your thighs still shook, your breath choppy. A soft whimper of protest escaped you at the loss, and he just chuckled under his breath. It was a dark, amused sound, as if he’d barely begun to play with you and had so much more in store.

So, naturally, he reached over to the bedside table, retrieving something you hadn’t expected tonight—the good old magic wand. Your eyes went wide at the sight of it, fear and excitement tangling in your chest as you realised how easily he could push you over the edge again. Your mouth opened, a little plea escaping before you could stop it.

And he answered you only by pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, an almost tender gesture, before turning on the toy. The soft hum filled your ears, as he moved it to your swollen, sensitive clit. You jerked at the contact; the wand’s vibrations already too intense after your first orgasm.

William kept going, though, eyes fixed on your face as you buried it into the pillow again, desperate to stay quiet. The sensation soared through you at dizzying speed, and in what felt like seconds, another release claimed you—this one sharper, more demanding. You clenched around nothing, toes curling tight, a muffled cry caught in your throat as you came once more. The sheets beneath you were soaked, and you knew it only spurred William on.

As you breathed out heavily, William finally set the wand aside, looking smug as ever, while you tried to catch your breath. Your body hummed with aftershocks, limbs heavy and pliant.

Now it was his turn. As he practically tore and tossed his own clothes aside, your eyes followed down to the bulge straining against his boxers, his desire evident. He stood at the foot of the bed and shed the last bit of fabric in one fluid motion, his cock standing hard and flushed, ready for you. But you knew he wouldn’t just hand it over. He wanted you to work for it—wanted to see that you were just as eager to please him as he was to break your composure.

“Come here,” he said softly, voice holding that firm edge that made your stomach tighten. Still trembling, you moved onto all fours, grateful your arms held you steady after those two overwhelming climaxes. He guided you with a gentle hand in your hair, bringing you close to him.

And instinctively, you opened, hollowed your cheeks and welcomed him into your mouth, determined to make him lose some of that smug control. He groaned low in his throat when you swirled your tongue just right, and you felt a surge of pride at the sound. Each muffled hiss of pleasure was a victory, proof that you could unravel him too.

“Good girl,” he praised, voice roughened by pleasure. That phrase sent warmth spilling through you, made your heart flutter. You knew he loved having you like this, compliant and dedicated, yet still carrying that spark of mischief that had started this whole game.

But then, with a gentle push, he instructed you to turn around, urging you to press your cheek into the pillow, your knees sinking into the mattress as you raised your ass for him. The anticipation was maddening. He knelt behind you, one large hand on your hip, the other skimming down your spine. You let out a quiet gasp when he brushed his thumb over you other entrance, just a hint of pressure that made you whimper. He didn’t push further, only reminding you who held all the cards.

Then, finally, he filled you up with a powerful thrust, claiming you with a sure, steady movement. The fullness made you moan softly, muffled by the pillow. He set a slow rhythm; each inward push followed by a careful withdrawal that left you aching for more. With each roll of his hips, he angled himself just right, brushing sensitive spots that made your vision blur.

Occasionally, he applied a hint more pressure with his thumb against that other, tighter place, not entering. It sent electricity through your nerves, reminding you just how easily he could control your pleasure.

Your muffled cries and soft whimpers were a soundtrack he savoured. He leaned over you, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder blades, murmuring your name like a prayer. The bed creaked softly beneath you, the scent of sex and the faint pine of the Christmas tree drifting through the apartment. You were both keenly aware that Alex slept down the hall—that, in the morning, family would fill this space with laughter and cheer. But right now, it was just the two of you, lost in this secret, intimate world of desire and trust.

William pressed in deeper, his body trembling with the effort of keeping his pace steady. The world beyond the bedroom door seemed to recede, the faint glow of Christmas lights under the doorframe the only hint of the festive setting outside. In that moment, nothing mattered except the heat of his skin against yours, the glide of sweat at the small of your back, the sounds and scents that wrapped around you both like a secret.

Your cries, half-stifled by the pillow you bit into, were music to his ears. You arched under him, toes curling into the mattress, the duvet bunching beneath your knees. You could feel him shudder, could almost taste how desperately he wanted to let go.

“Fuck, baby,” he panted, voice tight, on the edge of control. His grip on your hips tightened, fingertips pressing into your flesh. He angled himself just right, each deep thrust fanning the flames inside you both. You answered with a choked moan, head turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to remain as silent as possible.

He whispered your name once more, voice cracking with need. “Mmm, I’m gonna fucking come,” he groaned, as if confessing a secret sin. You could hear the strain, feel the tension coiling in his muscles as he hovered at the brink. Each ragged breath he took warmed the skin of your back. The slick sound of your bodies meeting and the rich scent of sex filled your senses.

And when he finally surrendered, it was with a shudder that racked his entire frame. He buried himself as deep as he dared, spilling hot and thick inside you, voice reduced to a strangled gasp of relief and pleasure. The force of his climax echoed through you, every aftershock rippling against your quivering muscles. He stayed like that for a heartbeat longer, body slumped, forehead resting between your shoulder blades, his breath hitching as he tried to steady himself.

For a few moments, neither of you moved, too wrapped up in the haze of post-climax bliss. Your heart pounded, your limbs heavy, as you savoured the sensation of being utterly claimed. Then, as the urgency faded to a gentle hum, he withdrew carefully, easing you onto your side. The sudden coolness of the room’s air against your heated skin made you shiver, and he was quick to pull a cover over you both, sealing you together in warmth and comfort.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his voice a soft, affectionate murmur that contrasted with the raw desperation of moments before. Outside this room, the world waited; snow falling silently, Christmas approaching with all its family chaos and bright laughter. But for right now, in the lingering scent of sex, you were two souls bound by secrecy, pleasure, and trust.

A quiet chuckle escaped him, low and fond. He brushed damp hair from your face, fingers lingering in the curve of your jaw. “I love you so fucking much” he whispered, as if afraid to break the spell. “Thanks for all the little surprises.”

You turned, meeting his gaze, the corner of your mouth lifting in a lazy, sated smile. “I love you too, Willy. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

#my asks #inexperienced!reader x Willy #wn88 imagine #william nylander fanfiction #william nylander imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey fic

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flemingsfreckles · 11 months ago

Text

Be a Good Teammate pt. 4

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Read Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 first!

Preview: You and Jessie have dinner at her new place.

Warnings: it’s angsty yall, buckle up (just for a bit), swearing, very brief mention of sex (no descriptions, nothing like that, but it gets mentioned)

WC: 5.5k

A/N: I think this is the end of this series. I never intend to make it more than 1 part honestly, but you all enjoyed it enough so here we are at Part 4. This also ended up more angsty than I had planned so, whoops :)

It was nearing 5pm when your Uber pulled up in front of the address Jessie had sent you. You thanked the driver and hopped out. You hadn’t thought much of the address, not noticing that there wasn’t an apartment number or a unit letter attached to the end of it, so you were surprised to find yourself standing in front of a house instead of an apartment complex as you had expected.

It was a small little blue house, wood fencing all around, a good sized front yard, a few trees, it was exactly what you would expect Jessie to pick out.

You pulled your phone out of your sweatpants pocket to let her know you had arrived. You had gotten back to the hotel, quickly thrown on a Nike sweatshirt and a fitted pair of gray joggers.

“Hi.” You look up to see Jessie walking through the doorway and down the steps toward the fence gate. You put your phone back in your pocket, not needing to let her know you were here anymore. She reached the gate, unlatched it and held it open for you to come inside. You notice that she quickly looks you up and down as you walk through into her front yard. You can’t help but do the same to her.

Jessie’s hair was down, still slightly wet from her postgame shower, she was wearing a lavender colored long sleeved shirt and a pair of sweatpants. She looked cozy, as if she was ready to cuddle up on the couch for the evening like she had mentioned wanting to do.

“You bought a house?” Your curiosity gets the best of you and you can’t help but ask.

“Yeah, I did. I lived with Janine and her fiancé for the first few weeks while I looked at places, and then I had to leave for the gold cup and I just couldn’t find any apartment that felt like home. I started looking at houses instead once I got back. This was actually the first one I saw and I really liked it. It’s not too big, which works since it’s just me right now but has some room if I need it in the future.” Your brain wanders to the thought of Jessie having her own kids in the future, you knew she wanted them and you had seen how good she was with kids over the years.

“Plus I figured even if I’m only here for a couple years, I can keep the house. It’s only been a few weeks but I love the area. I'd consider coming back here to settle when soccer is over.” She opened the front door, stepping back to let you walk in first.

You slip off your shoes, placing them on the mat next to the door where Jessie’s shoes lay neatly in a row. Looking up you realize you're standing in her living room, there’s a large gray couch, a small table in front of it, a tv, a bookshelf that’s filled with books and art and other trinkets.

“You can keep a plant alive now?” You tease her as you see she has a variety of green plants. In college you had watched her become what you described as a serial killer of plants.

“I’m getting better. A lot of them were housewarming gifts from my teammates so I maybe just haven't had enough time to kill them.”

Stepping out of the entryway you walk over to her bookshelf, looking at the various titles, there’s a couple photos placed on the bookshelf, one with her parents after she had won the gold medal, one of her and her Chelsea teammates holding up a couple trophies, one of her and her siblings all wearing matching Christmas pajamas. The opening to the kitchen was just to your right, you step in its direction before turning to look at Jessie who was following closely behind you.

“Can I see the kitchen?” You don’t want to invade her privacy by inviting yourself to take a tour of her place.

As if she read your mind she gestures her hand in the direction of the kitchen. “Go ahead, I can just give you the whole tour now while we wait for the food, it should be on its way by now. I was also thinking we can watch the Angel City and Orlando game, only if you want it should be on at 7. ” She looks at the clock mounted on the wall.

“Yeah that sounds good.” You reply as you step into the kitchen.

Her kitchen was cute, the same wood accent from the outside of the house scattered throughout. She offered you an ice pack for your nose as you stood looking at her fridge. You declined, having just taken the pain meds, it was bearable pain.

As you continue to move through her house Jessie makes a few comments here and there about what she liked about the house so much, the wood flooring, the large windows that let in natural light, the little nook that she had set up to be a place to read. Hearing her talk about the little things, paint colors, furniture was so simple and yet it made you feel like you were back to your old friendship. The simple minded discussions, the joking around, all the tiny moments you would have with her, it hit you how much you really missed just her existence and company.

You get to two closed doors at the end of the hallway, you point at the one closest to you and look back at Jessie.

“Linen closet, nothing exciting unless you want to see towels.” You move your finger to point at the other. “My bedroom.”

“Oh,” You’re not sure what to say, the closed door seemed like an obvious sign to not go in. Jessie again, able to tell what was running through your head, speaks up.

“You can go in, I just close the door out of habit. I don’t have anything to hide.” Wanting to see her bedroom, you push open the door. It reminds you a little bit of her bedroom in your college apartment. Not much as far as decor, just a few special things on display throughout. Her bed in the center of the room, a nightstand on one side.

“Sorry it’s still a mess in here, I haven’t had a ton of time to dedicate to unpacking and I was more focused on the rooms everyone else would see.” You look around, trying to find the mess she was referring to. Her bed was made, no clothes scattered across the floor, no pile of clean laundry to be put away, no water bottles on bedsides, not even dust, just a few boxes stacked neatly in the corner, the one on top open as if she had been in the middle of unpacking when you had arrived.

“If this is what you consider a mess, we have completely different standards of mess.” You let out a laugh, Jessie doesn’t say anything, just gives you a smile and slow nod.

You’re interrupted by her phone ringing, she picks it up and before answering the call she points around the corner. “If you want to see my bathroom, it's through the closet. I’ll be right back.”

She walks out of the room and you hear her answer the call. You take a second look around her bedroom, looking at the couple of personal items that were scattered, photos of her and her Canada teammates, photos of her family, photos of skylines and nature that you assume she had taken. She has her array of cameras all neatly set on a shelf, displaying them. Making your way over to her closet you walk through to peek into her bathroom. It looked like a bathroom, nothing too special about it, a shower, toilet, a vanity with two sinks, her toothbrush, hairbrush, and other bathroom things just placed neatly around one side.

You turn back to go wait in her bedroom being done looking at the bathroom. You walk into her closet, taking a quick glance around, the closet had more boxes in it than unpacked clothing items. Each box was neatly labeled, varying in sizes, all stacked on top of one another. You look at what clothes she had unpacked, it was nearly all clothes for training, one pile had clothes with the maple leaf and the name Canada across them, the other a mix of red, green, some blue, with the thorn’s logo and Portland across them. Looking back toward the exit of the closet your eye catches on a box, more specifically the label of the box catches your eye.

It was a box with your name on it. Printed carefully along the side, in Jessie’s handwriting. You could feel your heart begin to race. You couldn’t move, your eyes staring, your own name looking back at you. Why did she have a box with your name on it?

“Foods here.” You didn’t even hear Jessie coming, the sound of your blood rushing through your ears muffling outside noises. She comes around the corner, you quickly look away, not wanting her to see you and think you were snooping through her stuff. You weren’t, but you could see how it could look suspicious, but then again she was the one with a box labeled for you. She must’ve seen your sudden movement as she looks at you with a questioning look, then at where the box sat, you see the moment she knows you’ve seen the box. Her eyes widen and dart back to you. You expect her to say something, she does, just not about the box.

“It’s on the kitchen table.” Her face returns to a relaxed state, almost emotionless.

“Perfect.” Mirroring her behavior you decide maybe you’ll both just pretend that box doesn’t exist. Maybe you’ll just let it eat away at you for years, just like you had done with your feelings for the girl. You follow her out of the closet and bedroom back down the hallway and into the kitchen.

You both make a plate, grab a water, and sit down at her kitchen table. She sits first and you’re then forced to make the choice between sitting next to her or across from her. You decide on sitting across, hoping she doesn’t judge your choice. It’s quiet for the first few minutes, just the sound of silverware. Jessie keeps her eyes down, looking very interested in the plate of food sitting before her. You knew it was going to be awkward, seeing her in a non-football setting for the first time in so long, you were prepared for the small talk, asking about your family, your friends, the weather, you weren’t prepared for whatever this was. Both of you sitting here thinking about that box brought a whole different level of unexpected discomfort, it was making you itch.

“Your girlfriend doesn’t mind you having a box with another girl's name on it?” Unable to hold it in any longer, you let the question come out, you quickly kick yourself for asking that way, bringing her girlfriend into this conversation. Jessie picks up her head and puts her fork down.

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore.” Choosing the wrong time to take a sip from your glass you choke slightly causing a coughing fit. Jessie just looks at you as you try to calm down. Once you stop coughing she continues muttering the words, “and she actually did mind. A lot.”

Your brain is spinning, you heard her keep talking but your mind kept repeating the words she had spoken “not my girlfriend anymore”.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you split.” You now feel guilty for bringing up the girl.

“Of course you didn’t, you stopped talking to me, you didn’t get to have the privilege of knowing that we split.” Her tone of voice was shifting, becoming annoyed. Wanting to ask more but also not wanting to pry on a relationship you barely knew about.

“Why didn’t you just get rid of the stuff? If that would’ve made her happy?”

“I don’t know.” She pauses looking down at her hands. “I mean I do, it’s,” she sighs. “To be fair it wasn’t just the box, she had always been a little suspicious of our relationship, I told her the truth, that there’s never been anything between us, we didn’t have a history. And she believed me, I think, at least at the start. But then when you stopped talking to me, she’d catch me watching your games, checking up on you, looking at old photos of us, and she eventually found some clothing of yours that I had put away, along with the notes we used to write each other, the birthday cards, the Polaroids, everything. I wasn’t intentionally hiding but it was out of sight out of mind for me. I didn’t need the constant reminder that I had been dumped by my best friend. She again made the assumption that we had dated, or at least had slept together. She read the letters claiming friends to talk to each other in that manner. That was just the start of the mess.”

Nodding along to her story, you try to show her you’re paying attention, and you were, it was just hard when your mind was drifting to a hundred different thoughts.

“And then the rumors started about my transfer. I hadn’t told her about it, I hadn't even mentioned the idea of leaving London. I wasn’t even sure it was going to go through, it was a lot of money for Portland and I was waiting on visas and medical and all that bureaucracy and we got into an argument about it. She accused me of moving for the wrong reasons, she brought up you.” Jessie pauses for a minute as if to collect her thoughts before she continues.

“ I then said some things about you I shouldn’t have said to her and then it was over with her shortly after.” The volume of her voice drops as she rushed her words at the end of her sentence.

“You could’ve just thrown it all out at the start, if that would’ve fixed things with her, I wouldn’t have known.” Your statement is true, you didn’t even know she had kept all those things you wouldn’t have known if she had gotten rid of them.

“It wasn’t that easy, I know we weren’t talking, and like I said we weren’t even friends, but fuck I missed you so much. You were my best friend for nearly 5 years, only to get dropped without a reason and I was mad at you, sure but I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of that box of stuff.”

“There was a reason, I hope you know that.”

“Well you didn't give me a reason, if you just would’ve told me I could’ve fixed it or apologized or something. Instead I just had to sit and run through every decision I had ever made questioning where I went wrong with you, what I did to hurt you.” You can see tears welding in her eyes as she continues to stare at you, despite the tears, her eyes are cold and make you feel tiny under her gaze.

You stayed sitting, staring back at her, having no clue on what to say to her, stuck between wanting to apologize and also wanting to yell back at her. You silence allows her to continue.

“I would’ve done anything to have you back in my life, all you had to do was ask, but it felt like you wanted nothing to do with me. And that fucking hurt.” Her fist comes down hard on the table, it startles you, making you sit back away from where you had been leaning against the table. You cross your arms as you sit back and bow your head to stare down.

“I couldn’t ask.” It comes out quiet, from your mouth almost as if it was an accident.

“What?”

“I couldn’t ask you to fix it, it wouldn’t have been fair.” Speaking louder you bring your head back up to look at her.

Now it’s her turn to say nothing. She looks from you to where her hands sat on the table. She just waits, giving you the space to give her more information. You know you owe her the explanation, what you don’t expect is the word vomit that comes out once you start.

“I couldn’t ask you to break up with her, I couldn’t tell you I was jealous of her, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you those things, you seemed so happy with her, it wouldn’t have been fair. I had my chance for 4 years before she existed to tell you and I didn’t, but I also couldn’t stand seeing you so happy with her, it tore me apart, I wanted you to be happy and you were. It just sucked that you were happy with someone else. It sucked trying to be a supportive friend, I hated having to hear about your dates, and hearing about your first kiss, and I really hated having to hear all about the first time you two fucked.” The last word coming off with extra emphasis, the memory of her call to you after their night together briefly plays in your mind, only making you more upset.

“I hated it Jessie, but I sat through it for as long as I could because I wanted to be there for you. I wanted to be a good friend to you. I wanted to still be your best friend but I couldn’t and all I wanted was for her to no longer exist. I started to think horrible things about her and your relationship and that’s when I knew I needed to take a step back for my own health. I was no longer being a good friend to you. So I stepped back.” Your voice was loud, you were slightly out of breath barely stopping between words as you yelled across toward her, you’re not sure why you were yelling, you weren’t trying to yell at her. It wasn’t her fault she had found someone to make her happy that wasn’t you. But the past year of frustration had built and built and unfortunately this was the time the wall broke, and here you were practically shouting at Jessie across her own kitchen table.

Jessie doesn’t say anything. She stands up from the table, the sound of her chair scraping the floor was the only noise in an otherwise silent room. Grabbing her own empty plate and then extending her hand she offers to take yours. You pass it to her. She walks them over to the sink, putting them down, running the water over them. You stand up, not wanting to feel like a terrible house guest, you start packing the leftovers back up. You open the fridge door and place them inside. The water shuts off and Jessie puts the plates on a mat to dry. She walks past you, not saying anything as she moves into the living room. You hear the noise of the couch, assuming she has sat down you take a few steps toward the other room.

She’s sitting on the couch, bent over with her head in her hands. Her thumb is rubbing against her temple and she’s bouncing her knees. Leaning against the doorway you stay quiet, you feel bad for yelling at her, seeing her overwhelmed like this because of you, tugged on your heart. You wanted to rush to her side and hug her but you also knew that would probably be the worst thing you could do. You stayed put, leaned against the wall just watching her. She lets out a large breath and then sits up.

“What?”

“I didn’t,” you shake your head, not sure what she’s asking. “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

“I know, but you look like you want to, so what? Just say it. Don’t be a coward again.” Her words are harsh, insulting you in a way she hadn’t ever before. To be fair to her you realized you had also never yelled at her before either.

“I’m not a coward.”

“Hiding your feelings for 6 whole years, 5 of those years when we were best friends feels a little cowardly, but that’s just my opinion.” You hadn’t seen Jessie like this often, especially towards you, she was almost being mean, not caring what she said to you or how she was saying it.

“Fine, what did you say about me to her? Before you broke up, you said that you said stuff to her about me that you shouldn’t have. What did you say?” You can’t help but ask, the question of what she had said had been sitting in your brain since she mentioned it.

When Jessie doesn’t respond right away you push her. “Don’t be a coward.” You mock her tone from earlier using her own words. She rolls her eyes at you.

“She accused me of moving to try and be closer to you, she said I wanted to rekindle our relationship. And by that point I couldn’t take her nagging about you anymore and so I was honest with her. I told her the reason I had kept all of your stuff, the reason I checked up on you, the reason I would look at old photos of us, even though you didn’t care about me anymore. I had to tell her my memories of you were comforting for me.” She looks you in the eyes for a second before looking down at her hands.

“Those memories felt like home, that you felt like home. And I then had to tell her that was something I had never felt with her.”

You’re not sure how to respond, trying to process all of Jessie’s words before saying anything back to her. You move off the wall and sit down on the couch, putting some distance between where you both sat.

“Naturally, admitting having feelings for someone else to your current partner doesn’t go over well so that was the end of that.” She mumbles as you sit down.

“You have feelings for me?” Maybe you had heard her wrong, doubting that this conversation was actually happening. She slowly blinks at you.

“Did they check you for a concussion after the hit?” Her question only confuses you more.

“What?”

“Oh my god.” Jessie throws her hands up. “Yes, I have feelings for you. That’s what I just said, I just didn’t really know that they were those kinds of feelings until you stopped talking to me and I realized how important you were and that it felt like I was missing a part of me that no one besides you could fill. And then I had her, and that was fine for a little bit, but she wasn’t you.”

You have half a thought to call her out, call her a coward the way she had to you for hiding her own feelings, but decide against it.

The silence takes over the room, you’re not sure what to say to her. What do you say to someone you’ve been secretly in love with for 5 years when they finally admit they want you back? Where do you even start to make up for the time you both wasted? Where do you go from this conversation?

Thankfully you don’t have to figure it out at that moment as both your phone and Jessie’s vibrate and light up, both of you reviving the notification that the Angel City and Orlando game was set to start.

Jessie looks up from reading the notification, “Do you still want to watch the game? I understand if you don’t, I probably wouldn’t want to stay around someone who called me a coward.”

“I want to stay, if that’s okay. You can yell at me and call me whatever, but just being around you has really made me realize how much I’ve missed your company. So, I’d like to stay if you’ll let me?”

“Of course.” She reaches for the remote on her coffee table and points it toward the tv turning it on.

“Can I get that ice pack you offered earlier?” No longer caught up in the intense conversation you feel the pain from your nose starting to return in full force. Jessie tosses the tv remote in your direction and hops up from the couch immediately, rushing to her freezer. She comes back with an ice pack, a bag of frozen veggies, a towel, and a bottle of pain meds.

“Do you want to just sit and hold it or lay down? I can get you a different pillow. I brought the towel in case the direct ice is too cold. And if you want these.” She gives the bottle of medicine a shake. “I also wasn’t sure if the ice pack would sit nicely on your face so I got this.” She holds out the package of frozen vegetables to you.

“Yeah that’ll actually probably work best.” You take it from her hand. “Thanks.” You add. She placed the pain meds on the coffee table and leaves to put the other ice pack back in the freezer. You use the remote to find the game, and Jessie returns as they commentators start talking about the starting lineups for each side.

When Jessie sits down you notice she sits a lot closer to you then the two of you had been before. Your hips and thighs are only inches apart. She leans back and puts her feet up onto the table.

You both sit in what is now a more comfortable silence, watching the game. You both make comments here and there about footwork, ball movement, passes, shots, critiquing and complementing the players. At halftime Jessie stands up, takes the now thawed bag of vegetables from you and brings it back to the freezer. She comes back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and waters.

When she sits back down, she closes the gap between the two of you. The outside of her leg now resting against the outside of yours. She places the popcorn bowl so that it rests on both of you. Jessie leans back to rest against the back of the couch and you do the same. The game starts back up again, you both focusing your attention back to the tv.

It only takes 5 minutes into the second half for you to feel Jessie shift in her seat. She’s moving only slightly but being hyper aware that she’s pressed up against you, you can’t help but notice her movements. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel her lean her head over, placing it to rest on your shoulder, leaving her body more forcefully against yours. Your whole body tenses, not wanting to move and disturb her.

You stay like this for a couple minutes. Deciding you couldn’t let her make all the moves you glance down to see Jessie’s hands resting on top of each of her thighs. You place your own hands in the same position, then move the one closest to her, in her direction. You move just as slow as she had until your pinky finger is hovering just over hers. You slowly let your hand fall on top of hers, she doesn’t pull away, or tell you off. Instead she flips her hand so her palm is now facing up. Eager to finish what you had started you now quickly move your hand, interlocking your fingers with hers. You wait a minute, then let the pad of your thumb gently rub against her thumb.

You stayed in that position, holding her hand, her head resting on your shoulder as the two of you watched the remainder of the game. Wanting more time with Jessie you desperately were hoping for an insane amount of added time, unfortunately only 3 minutes are added and the game is quick to end.

Jessie pulls her head off your shoulder, sitting up with a yawn.

“I should probably get back.” You say, realizing it was nearing 9pm and while you didn’t have a curfew, you still didn’t want to be caught coming back too late by any of your teammates knowing you’d never hear the end of it, especially since they knew you were at Jessie's.

“Right.” Jessie stands up from the couch and flips a light on. The sun had gone down as you watched the game and the two of you were in the dark without the light from the tv. She holds her hand out to you, you take it and stand up. You quickly pull out your phone and order an Uber, thankful you were in a larger city and your ride would be here in less than 5 minutes. You move toward the door, bending down to slip your shoes on before standing up facing Jessie.

“It feels weird to say that I had a really good time tonight with all the yelling that happened, but I did. I had a really good time with you Jessie.” You smile at her.

“I had a good time too, this was nice. I’ve missed you.” She replies to you. She holds her arms out to you, offering a hug. You take a step toward her, leaning in to wrap your arms around her waist as she places hers on your shoulders. You stay hugging, longer than a normal friend’s goodbye hug would be. You both release the hold on each other but you don’t move back from her. You stay face to face, your eyes staring back at her brown ones.

Much to your surprise Jessie is the one who makes the move. One of her hands comes up to your cheek, her fingers are warm and soft on your skin. Her eyes break contact with yours dropping to your lips quickly and then back up. She starts to lean in but stops just moments before your lips would connect.

“Is this okay?” Her voice is barely audible, quieter than a whisper.

“Yes.” Before you have a second to think about kissing her it’s already happening. It’s a gentle kiss, her lips just placed on top of yours. She starts to pull away a second later, but you let your head chase her lips, giving her a bit more forceful of a kiss. In doing so, you bump your nose against hers causing you to pull back quickly from her, hand coming to clutch your nose.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I forgot about your nose.” Jessie’s eyes are wide as her hand comes to rest on the forearm of the hand holding your face.

“It’s okay Jess, that was my fault, I forgot too for a second.” You wipe your hand under your nose and look down at your fingers making sure you’re not bleeding again. “It’s not crooked or anything right?”

“No, but those black eyes are starting to come in.” Her eyes dart between both of yours. You both let out a small laugh and then are left in silence.

“I’d like to take you out sometime, on a proper date, if you’d want that?” You look at her hopeful she’ll want to continue whatever the two of you started.

“I do, I want that.” She smiles back at you, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay.” You can’t help but smile big back at her.

“Okay.” She just repeats your words.

“I should be going.” You repeat your words from earlier, you knew you had to go, you just didn’t want to.

Jessie moves her hand from your forearm up to your face to grab your chin. You think for a second she’s going to kiss you again but then she’s pushing your head away from her and to the side. She moves in and places her lips on your cheek.

“Once your nose is healed you can have more on the lips.” She says teasingly. The gentle gesture has you blushing more than the kisses to your lips did. She releases your face and you see her eyes look at your cheeks, the blush growing. You turn quickly facing the door, grabbing the handle and stepping out.

“Goodnight Jessie.”

#jessie fleming #portland thorns #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso imagine #woso x reader #canwnt

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idksomethinggay · 3 months ago

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Imagine, Jason starts becoming closer with the batfam after the whole dying, coming back etc.

Jason sees how much effort Dick puts into being a good older brother to the rest of the batfam. Jason feels resentful. All he wanted was to be loved, to have a big brother. And when he died Dick became that.

Jason starts making jokes towards Dick. “Look who became a good brother when I was gone”, “dam where was this protective older brother when I was around”. Etc.

The resentment builds in Jason until one day he breaks. He sees Dick comforting Tim after he got hurt in the field.

“Wow so you can be an older brother.” He says then storms off.

Dick makes sure Tim is okay and then tracks down Jason. Dick finds him crying in the library. Dick sits down beside him.

“I’m sorry Dick. I am trying not to feel resentment about you and Bruce. All I ever wanted was a family, and once I died you guys became one.”

Dick hugs him and lets him cry. Dick pulls out a photo album.

“Can I show you something?”

Dick opens the album. The first few pictures are formal. Dick and Bruce posed in front of a school. Alfred, Bruce and Dick in front of a Christmas tree. Then Dick turns the page. All of these images are full of smiles. Dick and Jason making a mess in a kitchen trying to cook. Jason and Dick with giant stuffies they won. Bruce and Jason asleep, snuggled up together in the living room. Alfred, Dick and Jason decorating cookies. There are pages and pages of happy memories.

Jason doesn’t remember this. He tries but the pit took so much.

“Jason, it wasn’t your death that made us a family. It was you. Me and Bruce were partners. We fought crime together. Other than that Alfred took care of me. When you came around Bruce became a father. I became a brother. You taught me what it means to have siblings. You taught me what it means to have a family again. I’m sorry you don’t remember it. I’m sorry you were gone when the rest of our siblings joined. I’m sorry I missed out on years of being your big brother.”

Dick starts to cry. Jason closes the book to hug his brother.

Alfred finds them asleep on the floor of the library a few hours later. He takes the book out of their hands, places a blanket over them and snaps a photo.

#dc comics #dc universe #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #batman headcanon

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biblio-smia · 1 year ago

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i love ur writing 🥹 i was wondering if you could write about spending christmas with mike and abby? i think that’d be really cute 🫶

hii thank you so much!! in anticipation of the holiday season here you go <3 please ignore any typos

the air is cold despite the bundles of blankets on you, biting at the tip of your nose and leaving frosty kisses on your cheeks. it's merciless as it pulls you from your peaceful sleep, making you pull up the covers with a groan. your body contracts, folding into itself in an attempt to bask in the warm air you've trapped underneath your blankets.

your alarm goes off and you groan.

your head peeks out to glance at the time. 7 a.m. too early. icy air enters your nose through a deep breath as your brain attempts to catch up and remind you of today's schedule.

you're about to nestle inside your blankets and go back to sleep when your eyes find your clock again.

december 24th.

how could you forget?

there's a few final things to pick up before heading over to mike's: stocking stuffers, some more wrapping paper, pre-made cookie dough (the three of you have decided to make dessert from scratch tonight, but you're sure mike will find a way to mess it up).

another gift for abby catches your eye in glimpses between people, mike's complaining that you always spoil abby ringing in your head (so you buy him another gift, too). you should've gotten a cart or at least picked up a basket but it's too late now that your hands are full. you keep your items close to your chest, fingers going a little numb from the thawing cookie dough, pushing through the overcrowded aisles. it's a relief once you finally check out, exchanging your money for easier-to-carry bags full of your items.

the air is vicious when you step outside, refusing to mellow out. it forces you to hurry to your car, getting inside and turning on the heat hastily. after you rub a little bit of feeling back into your hands, you waste no time in driving over to mike's. 7:58 a.m. perfectly on schedule.

you should've called to announce your arrival before even stepping out of your car. you've knocked and can't expect mike to have been waiting at the door for you, but every second feels like torture when the wind is roughing you up.

your face splits into a grin when the door opens, mike tugging you inside, chilled through his red sweater from just the gust of wind that blew in with the quick opening of his door. he greets you with a warm hug, helps you hang the thick coat that is no longer appropriate for his warm home.

the schmidt house is somehow cozier than it usually feels, adorned with lights and greenery (that you'd helped put up). a christmas tree sits in the corner of the living room, decades old and the perfect size for the space, glittery ornaments reflecting the yellow lights of the small bulbs hidden between the branches of the plastic green tree. there are other ornaments, too - special ones, like old family photos mike still liked to put up, and ones abby had crafted herself. there were even some little snowmen mike had made when he was a kid, out of popsicle sticks and paint. you were proud to say there was an ornament you had gifted mike and abby on the tree, a little reindeer frame with a photo of the siblings inside.

"have you eaten yet? i'm almost done with breakfast." mike offers, resuming his role in the kitchen and attending to the eggs and strips of bacon on the stove.

you shake your head. "i haven't," you admit and mike nods, pulling out three plates from the cabinet.

"you're not allowed to look at these," you motion to the shopping bag you hold, a little lighter now that you've set the cookie dough on the counter. you're on your way to mike's room to set the gifts down before abby spots them when mike scoffs, looking pointedly at the cookie dough.

"you don't believe in me?" he asks playfully, picking up the container to store in the fridge.

"of course not!" you call from the hallway.

you take the small slot of solitude to quickly wrap the gifts you'd bought, knowing you won't have another chance with the busy schedule the three of you had planned. as you'd suspected, mike had been on his last scraps of wrapping paper, forcing you to wrap each gift in a different design. you uncapped a sharpie, wrote abby on one and mike on the other, cleaned up your area, and set the bag aside once again. your timing is perfect - you slip out of mike's room to see mike padding down the hall. you hear the creak of the carpeted wood as he comes up behind you, hand slipping easily on your shoulder as you quietly open abby's door. the two of you slip in to the dimly lit room, overcast sky letting grey shine through.

abby is curled up into herself, arms squeezing the life out of one of many stuffed animals, tightly wrapped blankets suffocating the teddy bear in her arms even more.

you're hesitant to wake her, but you know how upset she'll be if you don't. mike sits carefully and places a hand on the lump of abby that vaguely resembles a part of her arm, attempting to wake her through gentle shaking.

abby stirs but groans, disappearing further under the covers, conserving the warmth she has there.

"abby," mike sings. "it's christmas eve."

you can almost see abby's eyes widen before she even appears, thick blankets and bear thrown aside as abby shoots up. her head moves excitedly as she just now registers your presence in the room, throwing herself into mike's lap and wrapping her arms around him, giggling ecstatically. it's not long before she's moved onto you, gripping onto you tightly like she always does when she doesn't want you to leave.

but you're planning on spending at least a few more hours with the schmidts.

"c'mon, breakfast is ready," you say sweetly, tugging abby towards the bathroom gently.

"i can smell the bacon!" abby exclaims, smiling over at mike. he follows the two of you out, a discreet arm on your back pulling you towards the kitchen to allow abby a chance to wash up.

you expect mike to pull away from you once you arrive, to begin serving the still-hot breakfast he has prepared - but he doesn't. the arm on your back slides, but doesn't leave, as mike wraps his other arm around you, hands joining at your front. he rests his head against you, hold a little lazy but warm nonetheless. your hands wiggle between his, fingers clasping his. mike makes no move to leave and you laugh, elbowing him lightly.

"get off."

this just makes mike hold you tighter.

"mike!"

mike groans against you but doesn't move, forcing you to wiggle your hands out of his grasp and learn how to walk with a new weight attached to you. you eventually make it to the stove, mike giving you the courtesy of freeing your arms and allowing you to begin plating breakfast.

mike doesn't let go until all three plates are full of warm food, straining a little to press a kiss on your face before grabbing two of the plates and moving them to the little dining table. you're just setting down the last one when abby reappears, eyes bright and body cozy in a very festive sweater.

"where's yours?" abby demands, looking pointedly at mike. his mouth forms a little o, getting up from his spot at the table to start heading to his room.

"don't worry," abby continues, uncrossing her arms and looking up sweetly at you as she slides into her seat for breakfast, smile wide as she picks up her fork. "we got you one, too."

with plates cleared and bellies full (and adorned with matching sweaters), abby seizes the opportunity to lay out the schedule for the day.

"okay," she begins, pushing her essentially clean (save for a few crumbs) plate away, folding her hands neatly in front of her. "christmas movies," abby says, looking between you and mike for confirmation. "christmas cookies." you nod when abby's eyes land on you, leaning forward in anticipation. "and... we can go look at the lights?" abby looks at mike hopefully, and who is he to say deny her request?

"there's a neighborhood, like, 40 minutes away that goes absolutely crazy with christmas decorations. abby's been wanting to see it forever." mike informs you before giving abby a smile. "we can go look at the lights."

abby cheers and you laugh, moving to pick up the plates from the table. "so, abs, what movie do you wanna watch first?"

"we can take turns picking!" abby calls as she speeds to the couch, making space for both you and mike as she tugs on the blanket hanging on the back of the couch.

"well, i think the youngest should go first," you call back as you dump the plates and cutlery into the sink, mike bringing over the cups you'd all used. mike doesn't even give you the chance to turn on the faucet before you're pushed out of the way. of course, you shove mike's shoulder (though can you really even call it a shove?).

abby pats the seat next to her excitedly and you grab the small case of dvds, finding the festive ones and discussing the various options with abby. she finally chooses the grinch (the animated one, because the real one still freaked her out). mike is just coming over when she's made her decision, taking the dvds from you and sliding the grinch into the dvd player.

mike settles next to you as the animation begins to play, arm landing around your shoulders as you relax between him and abby. the grinch ends quickly, but you all make it through an entire round of turns and almost 3 hours of animated films before mike is gently pulling away from you and standing, eyeing the clock and muttering something about dinner. it's early, but mike is back soon enough after putting something in the oven.

he's been really trying to make this year the best christmas for abby: decorating much more than he normally would, trying to budget for presents he'd normally never look twice at. making you an essential piece of their christmas.

abby adores you, obviously. almost as much (if not as much) as mike does. while mike and abby have bonded more on their own, mike credits you for making the house feel warmer. for making it feel like he has a family again.

he's really trying to not let that thought terrify him.

but he knows abby feels it, too. the more frequently you come over and the longer you stay, the more it feels like you're supposed to be living with them, an integral piece of the schmidt house that just fits.

mike knows he'd like you around for as long as you'd let him. but for now, it's christmas, and mike wants to remember every moment.

there's a small camera in one of the drawers of a cabinet, one that mike made sure to charge before today. he pulls it out now, snaps a quick photo of you and abby cuddled up on the couch, very invested in home alone on the screen. mike smiles at the result that flashes on the small camera screen, setting it down on the table that sits in front of the couch before settling into his designated spot once more.

you glance curiously from mike to the camera, reaching for it carefully to not disturb abby too much. you let go of her gently, power on the camera and point the lens towards mike. you manage to take a photo of him caught off-guard, and another as he realizes what you're doing and smiles. you make a mental note to back up the sd card before leaving as you shut the camera off again, letting it sit on the coffee table for later.

you're about halfway through home alone 2 (it's no longer abby's turn, but you're all picking movies she wants to watch, anyways), when mike shifts out from under you again, whispering that he's gonna start making dinner.

"hey, abs, think you can finish this one by yourself?" you ask quietly, motioning to the movie.

"hmm," abby hums. "only if you guys make mac n' cheese."

you laugh, press a kiss to her forehead. "deal."

mike has already started pulling out pots and pans, various ingredients from the fridge and pantry littering the counter tops. mike stands, hands on his hips and head tilted in confusion as he looked down at a small notebook.

you come over and place a hand on mike's shoulder with hopes to soothe. you peer over to see what is testing mike and find a recipe for breaded chicken.

"what are we making?" you ask.

"i have no clue," mike admits with a sigh, flipping through the book.

"abby requested mac n' cheese," you offer.

"well that i can make." mike shuts the book and you smile, moving to reach for the ingredients you know you'll need. "i've got it," mike insists, though you've learned that that means he doesn't want to bother you.

"i know you do," you say, kissing his cheek. you reach for a medium-sized pot and mike bites his lip. his chest is warm as he steps out of your way, passing you ingredients and giving you directions as you start on dish one, together.

abby groans as she lets her fork clatter to her plate. "i'm so full, but it's so good!"

you laugh, pulling abby's plate away from her and scraping the last little bites of her second helping onto your own plate. "don't worry, we have a ton of leftovers."

"start getting ready, abby," mike says, finishing his own plate and smiling as abby cheers. "make sure to bundle up! it's cold," mike calls after abby, who's already racing down the hallway.

mike shakes his head and you're grinning. the two of you shove the last few forkfuls of food in your mouths, anxious to start heading out before it starts getting too crowded. the sun has almost completely set, the winter days making the days feel shorter. today, though, has called for a packed schedule.

you insist on cleaning up this time, pushing mike towards his room to go get ready. abby and mike reappear as you're pulling on the coat you shed that morning. mike buttons up abby's thick coat, wrapping a thick scarf around her.

of course, mike has one for you, too.

it's a warm, knit black one that you've seen mike wearing on multiple occasions. he wraps it around you twice, tying it off and making sure it's not too tight. you fix the collar of mike's coat, smoothing it flat with your hands. mike's hands linger on your scarf while his eyes have caught yours.

they're still so mesmerizing, a warm shade of brown that reflects the little lights hung up around the house. he's smiling, shyly under your gaze, but it spreads through his face and creates a glint in his eyes.

abby pulls on the crook of your arm, pulling your hand off of mike's chest. "let's gooo!"

"okay, okay," mike laughs, taking his hands off you and reaching for his keys. abby's hand is in yours as you step outside into the freezing afternoon, hurrying to the car with mike right on your trail. the heat blasts before the last door even shuts, all three of you shivering despite your layers.

mike turns up the radio to the inevitable christmas music playing, though it only fuels your festive spirits. the drive is anything but quiet, between the songs on the radio and abby telling you all about the great christmas party her class had just before break, there's enough chatter and laughter to last longer than the forty minute ride.

the roads are pitch black, thick clouds covering the shine of the moon as mike makes the final turn. the world is suddenly light up, huge blowups of famous christmas characters decorating almost every lawn, houses adorned with enough lights that you're sure would triple your electricity bill. there are huge candy canes, little christmas gnomes, even fake snow - no, real snow.

"oh, my god!" you laugh, pointing at the little white dots on mike's windshield.

"it's snowing!" abby cries, begging mike to get out and enjoy it. he yields and finds a place to park near the front of the huge neighborhood. the three of you are out, joining the small crowds of people who have made it out of their cozy houses on christmas eve to come see the lights.

abby is off, though mike warns her not to go too far, the wet snow not enough to keep her from admiring the glowing displays of rudolph and frosty.

you and mike hang back, watching her from the sidewalks, arms linked. snow collects quickly on your coats due to your leisurely paces, but it's too cold to retract your hands from your pockets to wipe it off.

"look!" abby calls from the next lawn over. "hot chocolate!"

sure enough, one kind neighbor is standing with a table full of hot drinks. three of them are picked up and you know the warmth of the drink and its sugar content is going to keep abby going for a while.

you and mike comment on each house, pointing out all the small details, how one house has been made to look one made out of gingerbread, complete with fake gumdrops. you've even began to give each house a rating out of five, as if you were judges on one of those light fight shows that always came on in the evenings.

"what about this one?" you stand in front of a home that looks like a christmas disco, bright flashing lights and colorful, mismatched decorations taking over the small plot of land.

"hmmm," mike hums through a sip of his drink. "i think three stars. maybe two, it's kind of giving me a headache."

you laugh and mike pulls you along to the next house that abby waves you towards, where a real-life santa has stopped, taking a break before his next round of dropping off gifts.

mike pats his pockets, sighing. "i forgot-"

"this?" you pull out the small camera from your pocket and mike grins. the two of you take turns taking photos of abby and santa, all wide smiles as santa picks abby up.

"here, why don't you two get in there?" a voice behind you speaks, an older woman coming up, patting your arms and reaching for the camera.

"oh, thank you," mike accepts graciously, pointing out the right button to click as he hands it over. the two of you join abby, posing next to santa for a few photos, flash almost blinding you a few too many times.

"thank you so much," you say gratefully, taking back the camera as mike joins you and abby begins saying her goodbyes.

"of course, dear. you two have a beautiful daughter." the woman smiles so wide you can't bring yourself to correct her.

"oh, she's not-"

"thank you," you interrupt. "and merry christmas."

"merry christmas," the woman repeats, heading off to rejoin her own friends, who point and coo at abby even from where they stand.

mike is looking at you with a smile on his face, wondering if there's any way you could possibly share his sentiments around the energy you bring when the three of you are together. he doesn't have time to ask, though, as abby comes up to you.

"ready to go?" mike asks, recognizing the tired look on her face.

abby nods and begins walking in front of the two of your, navigating back to the car. you slide your hand, cold from its exposure to the air, into mike's, pulling him into your coat pocket. you give him a kiss, lips warm from the drink you'd finished and the two of you are on your way, following abby closely.

you'd been forced to stomp the wet mush off your shoes before stepping inside, leaving all three pairs of shoes over a towel to avoid getting the floor wet.

the three of you shed your layers, stripping until the three of you sit in the matching christmas sweaters you'd started in.

"more hot chocolate?" you ask from the kitchen, thinking it's the perfect time to start baking some cookies.

"yes, please!" abby chimes as she climbs back under the blankets on the couch.

the hot milk you pour for the drink warms your hands, but the way abby's face lights up as you set the mug in her hands warms your heart. you waited until the drink was cool enough to drink before bringing it over, knowing abby did not have a patient bone in her body. she goes in for a sip immediately, bobbing for some of the melting marshmallows that sit on top.

"thank you," abby grins, licking chocolate from her top lip.

"you're welcome," you laugh, letting her attention to fall back to the tv behind you as you make your way back to the kitchen where two more mugs sit on the counter, steam coming out in little white wisps.

you bring mike's mug over(the one abby got him, the one that says WORLD"S BEST BROTHER), but considering he has cookie dough up to his wrists, you bring the warm cup up to his lips instead. mike takes a careful sip, humming at the taste of the sweet chocolate.

"does this look right?" mike asks with a little desperation in his voice as you set his mug down a safe distance away.

you take a look inside the large bowl he's working with, tilting your head at the mixture that doesn't quite look like the cookie dough you buy from the store.

"i think you added too much milk?" you offer.

"i didn't add milk," mike sighs, trying to keep his sleeves up and out of... whatever what was in that bowl.

you keep yourself from laughing with a bite of your lip, rolling mike's sleeves up for him. "here." you reach for the flour, adding in more and letting mike mix it around until it finally begins to resemble something more akin to cookie dough. you dare to try it, making a face that mike can't discern the meaning of.

"is it good?" mike asks, opening his mouth for a spoonful of the dough from you you.

"well, it's not bad," you say, putting the small spoon in mike's mouth for him to try. mike makes a face similar to the one you're sure you made, staring down at the bowl.

"how about we just make these chocolate chip cookies instead?" you offer, already moving to get the pre-made sugar cookie dough out of the fridge.

"yeah, that'll be better." mike scrapes as much of the cookie dough as he can from his fingers, washing the rest off in the sink and grabbing chocolate chips to add in. you're pulling out sheet trays to place all the cookies out and abby is called over to help cut out shapes to decorate later.

the sugar has taken its affect. abby bounces around, barely unable to wait until the short 12 minutes on the timer go off, staring at the cooling cookies on the counter as if that'd make them cold enough to decorate, faster.

at least she's still up - you're really hoping to see her open a gift at midnight.

"can we decorate them now?" abby asks, gently pressing on one of the sugar cookies to check its temperature. "they're cool."

you press a finger on the surface of the cookie, right next to hers. she's right - they're perfectly room temperature. you nod and abby cheers, taking a bit of a chocolate chip cookie as she starts decorating a cookie in the shape of a christmas tree.

"she is going to crash so hard later," you laugh with mike as the two you of start on your own cookies.

and abby does, in fact, crash hard.

her sugar-fueled energy had finally run out, leaving her head in mike's lap and the rest of her body sprawled out on you. the laughter that echoed in the kitchen had died down, cookies eaten, frosting spread on noses wiped off and licked off lips. you laid against mike's chest, watching the holiday movie playing with half-lidded eyes.

"are you asleep?" mike whispers when he hears your breathing even out for the second time.

"i'm not," you insist, blinking yourself awake.

mike laughs quietly, clearly not believing you.

"hey," he nudges you. "it's past midnight. merry christmas." mike turns his head to kiss your cheek, lips warm against your skin.

"merry christmas," you whisper back, trying to gently recover your hand from under abby to hold mike's.

but abby twists and turns until her eyes slowly blink open and she yawns, curling up closer to you and mike from underneath the blanket.

"what time is it?" she asks sleepily, though she makes no move to get up to go to bed. that's okay - mike will gladly carry her.

"merry christmas, abs. it's past twelve."

mike wasn't expecting abby to shoot up, giddy smile overriding any tiredness she felt.

"it's christmas!" abby cries, checking the clock just to make sure.

"merry christmas," you laugh, arms gently around abby to make sure she doesn't hit the floor in her excitement.

"merry christmas!" abby replies, throwing her arms around your torso and pressing her head in your neck, squeezing hard.

"merry christmas, mike!" abby moves on to mike, wrapping her arms around her neck as she hugs him tight.

abby is out of your reach quickly, untangling herself from the blankets and racing towards the christmas tree. "everyone has to open one!" abby calls, waving the two of you over.

"okay, let's see," you say, taking the blanket off both you and mike as you go to join abby. there's not a lot of presents under the tree, but both you and mike have worked together over the months to make sure that'll change by morning.

"i say, always go for the biggest," mike says, reaching for the biggest wrapped gift with his name on it - which happened to be from abby. you and abby exchange a knowing look and the two of you giggle, knowing exactly what the present mike picked up is.

you remember when abby shyly approached you with an idea in her head and a drawing in her hand. it'd taken a lot of work to put together, but abby had been so proud of you, excitedly helping you wrap it and unable to wait for mike's reaction to the gift.

well, here it was.

mike glances between the two of you with a smile as he tears the gift paper, revealing a sweater, multi-colored and uniquely decorated by abby.

"woahh!" mike grins, examining the details on the sweater before pulling it on. "it's beautiful. it fits great. it's perfect, abby, thank you. i love it." mike pulls in abby for a hug and she giggles, admiring how the sweater looks on mike. it's... definitely unique, but you know mike will wear it out anyway. the whole thing makes you smile so hard you barely register abby and mike looking at you expectantly, gesturing for you to pick a gift yourself.

"you know, i think i'll pick a small one," you reach for a small bag with both abby's and mike's names on it. you sift through the tissue paper to find a small basket filled with your favorite treats and, most importantly, a small handmade bracelet. you pick it up with a smile, slipping it on and looking up to see abby pull out two matching ones - one for her, one for mike.

"now we all match," abby grins.

'i love it!" you laugh, pulling them both in for a hug, holding up your wrists to look at the three bracelets together.

"okay, last one for tonight," mike says, fighting back a yawn. he's the only one who hasn't fallen asleep (even if only a little bit) tonight and it makes you frown ever-so-slightly.

"mmmm, i choose... this one!" abby reaches for an oddly-shaped, medium-sized gift wrapped in dark red paper with her name and yours written on it. she tears through the paper and the tape holding it together easily, eyes bright once they register the stuffed animal she's been wanting forever in her hands. abby's in your lap again, the little beaver plush you'd gotten her squished in between the two of you as she hugs you tight, thanking you profusely. you laugh, rubbing her back and saying something about the beaver not being able to breathe properly from where it's at right now.

abby lets go, plushie held tight in her hands as she stands, big yawn sending her body into a full stretch.

"okay, i think that means it's time for bed," mike says, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. "we'll open more presents as soon as you wake up."

that makes abby grin and she's in bed in no time. you clean up the area under the tree a little, picking up all the trash and putting the gifts aside for safe-keeping.

you enter abby's room to kiss her goodnight, following mike out and quietly moving gifts from mike's closet to their rightful place under the tree. the two of you clean up the living room: folding the blankets, doing any leftover dishes, saving leftovers and wiping off the counters.

the exhaustion is beginning to kick in, evident in mike's tired eyes. but the night is coming to an end and sweet sleep awaits you.

"you're staying over tonight, right?" mike asks, voice quiet and a little shy.

"well, i already brought clothes, so, yes." you're grinning and mike's face splits into a smile. you're following him into his room and into his bed, the two of you knowing how to share the small space comfortably after a few times now.

you're grateful for the warmth mike provides, for the feeling of security his arms give you. it's really been the perfect christmas already and it's only technically only halfway over. the plan for tomorrow is more or less the same, watching movies together and doing any other typical christmas activities you can think of. you're not worried about inadequate sleep tonight - the chances of abby waking up before ten a.m. are more than unlikely.

late nights in, late mornings. spending time with your favorite people in the world. it's an unbeatable feeling, warming your heart and making a dopey smile appear on your face.

mike can tell you're not sleep yet, feels you shift a little beside him. you've turned to look at him better and he's trying to figure out why when you kiss him. it's dark, but you've essentially memorized is face in this exact lighting.

"goodnight kiss?" mike asks cheekily, pulling you closer.

"something like that," you grin. "today was a good day."

"a really good day. it's been so long since we've had that much fun on christmas," mike admits, a little quietly.

you're quiet, too. you run a hand through mike's hair slowly, fingers wrapping around his curls.

"i love you," mike whispers as though it's the first time he's saying it. and even though it's not, it still makes you smile like it is.

"i love you, too." you kiss him again but he doesn't let you go as quickly as before, hanging on to you and capturing you again a few more times first.

"okay," you laugh between kisses, giving mike one final one. "last one. that's your goodnight kiss."

mike groans, tucking his head in the crook of your neck, gently leaving kisses there. "fine," he mutters against the skin of your neck.

"go to sleep," you roll your eyes playfully, letting mike rest half on you, hands on his back and in his hair.

"i am," mike insists, kissing your jaw before settling down, arm thrown over your body.

you're not quite sure who falls asleep first, but it feels like no time at all before abby is in the room, calling the both of you awake to keep opening presents.

though, her expression is worth it all, mouth agape and eyes wide upon seeing all the gifts that have magically appeared under the tree.

you and mike exchange a knowing glance when abby's not looking, very proud of yourselves.

and as the three of you sit, watching abby unwrap her presents, mike can't help but be a little impatient for the last gift you will open, a small little box from him that's been carefully hidden behind all the other presents.

because, while the past day has only further proven it, mike has known for a while that there's not a day he wants to spend without you - a promise that he hopes you'll accept along with that small piece of jewelry.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #fnaf movie #fnaf #v + mike #v writes #no reason this took almost a month to write... insane

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