#all I want for Christmas is him to get well soon

[mossangelll]

what arcane characters would be like at christmas!

inspired by @cosmicporos whose work is here <3

i’m in the christmas spirit and wanted to do a sillier post on what some arcane characters are like at this time of the year! once christmas and exams are over, i’ll get back to working through requests ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Jinx:

jinx gifts you something homemade, maybe a scrapbook of all the things you did together throughout the year?

aw omg i bet she’s amazing at taking secret pics…there’s so many embarrassing pictures of you in there but you can’t even hate it when she doodles love hearts right next to them :’)

all the pictures inside would be meticulously dated with a corresponding memory to go underneath

she wants to show you how much she cares!

jinx would love anything you give her, but she would swoon if you got her materials to make more chomper bombs - she loves how accepting and enthusiastic you are of her hobbies

jinx’s favourite holiday activity is decorating!

she loves getting into a festive spirit where it’s seen as more acceptable to be goofy and childlike?

she’s very thrifty so i feel like most of the decor is stuff you guys make together in front of a warm fire while it snows outside hehe

makes cranberry and popcorn garlands which you guys end up eating by the end of the week

there’s just plain string all over the place 😭

obviously there will be christmas themed graffiti

instead of a star or angel on top of the tree, she makes miniature figurines of you two hugging to stick on top

she is incredibly down bad for you and loves the holidays because she gets to be extra sentimental

gets a stupidly skinny christmas tree that barely has enough branches to wrap decorations around but she wouldn’t have it any other way

jinx doesn’t want to take everything tooooo seriously

jinx’s favourite christmas song is i wish it could be christmas everyday

Vi:

vi gifts you your own leather jacket! it's second hand and a bit worn through but she tried her best

you always spoke about how much you loved her jacket and now you two can match

irons and pins on patches of your favourite bands all over the jacket

spends so much time into making sure it looks perfect for you

i can see you two wearing each other’s jackets a lot so you can smell like one another

best investment ever - now everyone knows you two are made for each other

she would love it if you gifted her boxing gloves in her signature colour!

vi’s favourite holiday activity is sledding!

she probably uses an old sled her and jinx made together when they were younger

it’s seen better days but she doesn’t want to give it up anytime soon

better wear a helmet in case the whole sled comes apart as you ride it 😭

she’s the kind of person to convince you to let her push the sled down a steep hill… she cheers as you scream in fear

when you asked her if it was safe she winked and told you to trust her 😐

big mistake but how can you say no to her???

you both land in a heap of snow at the bottom, laughing so hard you have to catch your breath as snowflakes melts into your hair

she rolls you around in the snow and kisses you for a loooooong time hehe

vi’s favourite christmas song is baby it’s cold outside

Ekko:

ekko gifts you a painting he made of you!

he’s very nervous when he does, watching for every little reaction on your face - he just wants to know that he did a good job and made you happy

how could you not like it? he captures your likeness so well it feels like looking in a very flattering mirror

you can tell how much love and thought he put into it

he would love it if you gifted him more face paint and hair dye - even better if you offer to do it for him!

ekko’s favourite holiday activity is playing in the snow!

snowball fights, building snowmen and igloos, making snow angels - all of it!

this guy LOCKS IN when it comes to snowball fights

honestly sometimes you want to say no bcs he gets a bit too committed and you feel like you’re getting hunted down 😭

but then he promises to make you hot chocolate when you get inside so it works out in the end

accidentally pelts you in the face with a solid snowball and his face drops

he runs over to where you got knocked over and is worriedly checking you all over to make sure you’re not hurt

that’s when you shove snow down his back and run away in a fit of giggles

he goes still before he starts to chase after you - you both launch snow at each other for house

yeah, you both get ill after that 😭

ekko’s favourite christmas song is santa clause is coming to town

Jayce: 

jayce gifts you jewellery he forged himself :3

i can see him dragging you along to the workshop, making you watch him be all sweaty and hot for hours (you’re not complaining)

if you ask what exactly he’s making there he brushes it off as a custom piece of equipment needed for his experiments - little do you know it’s actually gifts for you

when he does gift it to you he has the most smug look in his face

who else is doing gifts like him?? exactly 🙂‍↕️

he would love it if you gave him new tools he can use when he’s doing his forging!

jayce’s favourite holiday activity is making gingerbread houses!

mainly sneakily nibbling away at little pieces of you (you notice)

you two end up ditching the house and smear icing all over each other

he licks the icing off your cheek

you tell him how gross he is but he’s not fooled when you’re blushing and giggling at his antics

after you two finish your “break”, you get to work on finally completing the gingerbread house

doesn’t let you leave the kitchen until you’re done - he made BLUEPRINTS for the house

it ends up being more like a mansion when you’re done

he’s cheesing so hard when it’s done and he makes you pose with the house

he posts it on his instagram story with some dumb caption (“look at my sweet treat and the gingerbread house we made 😜”) and you only find out when your friends send it to you

jayce’s favourite christmas song is all i want for christmas is you

Viktor:

viktor gifts you customised skincare he made just for you!

he is more physics-minded but after hearing you complain about how all the products you tried just weren’t doing it for you, he decides to step up

spends so much time consulting chemists at the academy for help creating the products

“subtly” asks you questions about your skin so as not to give himself away

“your skin looks quite dry today, would you agree?”

says this in front of a bunch of people - you hate this man so much 😭

you’re so happy when he gifts it to you, you’ve never had someone listen so intently to what you talk about

you definitely cry into his arms and he’s a bit stunned but eventually holds onto you - you stay like that for a while

he would love it if you gave him fancy coffee to help him stay up in the lab!

viktor’s favourite holiday activity is going to the christmas markets!

loves the smell of cinnamon and cocoa in the air, loves how the cold air nips at his nose

the icy ground is a bit of a nuisance for his cane but he knows he always has you to help out, even if he hates asking ^^

makes you two look at all the lights so you can rate them

goes to basically every dessert stand and scarfs down an insane amount of sweet things in record time

likes to buy the weirdest snow globes he can find

viktor’s favourite christmas song is winter wonderland

Caitlyn:

cait gifts you a first-edition copy of you’re favourite classical novel! 

she had to pull a lot couple of strings to get it but she would do just about anything for you 

even though you’d be happy with anything she gives you, she places a lot of expectations on herself 

she stresses herself out over making sure you have the best christmas ever 

she would love it if you gave her clothes that she would actually wear, things she’s told her she likes - not just what she’s expected to wear 

cait’s favourite holiday activity is ice skating!

she’s honestly so good at ice skating you’re surprised it isn’t her job or something 

takes you skating on the frozen lake at her estate 

if you don’t know how to skate, she’s incredibly patient and teaches you the basics

she loves that you have to cling onto her so you don’t fall over 

if you know how to skate, she bashfully asks if you want to learn couple’s ice skating choreography with her 

has the time of her life doing lifts and jumps with you! 

wishes she could stay outside skating with you 

cait's favourite christmas song is underneath the tree 

Mel:

mel gifts you a holiday at your dream destination!

she has lots of money at her disposal and gifts you things all the time, so she really has to go above and beyond for this one

you complain about barely getting to see her due to her work on the council so she manages to get a week away with you!

has a whole itinerary planned out so all you have to do is sit back and relax

makes up for all the time she spent away from you by making sure you're both attached at the hip lol

she would love it if you gifted her one of those jars full of little notes with things you love and admire about that person!

mel’s favourite holiday activity is playing games by the fireplace!

at first, she’s off-put by the whole idea - she’s not a child

but deep down i feel like she’s quite lonely and yearns to feel like she really belongs somewhere, she’s just scared to be emotionally vulnerable

so when you come along she reluctantly agrees and finds that she really loves doing this at a time that reminds her of her estranged family

loosens up around you and feels like she can really be herself

she’s also very competitive so it adds more drama to it all

you guys definitely argue when you play charades or uno 😭

she makes it up to you by letting you win the next game even if it’s incredibly obvious

makes silly bets when you play - “if i win the next round you have to tell me what you got be for christmas”

she’s such a cutie

mel’s favourite christmas song is santa baby

Ambessa:

ambessa gifts you a spa day

honestly a bit of a self-indulgent present since her mind isn’t completely innocent with this gift

a spa day is a spa day however

she doesn’t celebrate christmas - it’s a useless frivolity that wastes precious time that could be used to train her army

she knows how much you enjoy it though so she makes an exception for you

you can tell her heart’s not in it but it’s sweet that she tries for you

she would love it if you made her an intricate meal with all her favourite noxian foods!

ambessa’s favourite holiday activity is making christmas cards!

well, she’s not the one making them

she just watches you make them

but she thinks the look of concentration on your face is quite endearing so she stays around to watch you make them

she’s surprised by how much effort goes into making them from scratch and she walks away with a new appreciation for your hobby

you could beg her to join but she’s just not gonna do it 😭

she likes you, but not that much

ambessa’s favourite christmas song is none of them unfortunately <\3 (she has a soft spot for feliz navidad)

Heimerdinger:

heimerdinger gifts you a jailbroken gaming console 😭

he spent precious time on that thing

doesn’t agree with doing things like that usually but it’s christmas

everyone deserves a treat every now and then!

hopes you’ll focus on your work at the academy more often if you have this

backfires in his face because you’re constantly on it now, oh well

at least you liked the present

he would love it if you you gifted him a song you wrote!

heimerdinger’s favourite holiday activity is secret santa!

he is SO bad at keeping his a secret 😭

he goes around the academy asking people about your hobbies, likes and dislikes

you know he has you by the end of the day lmao

he’s so cute you can’t even be mad

heimerdinger’s favourite christmas song is wonderful christmastime

AU!Claggor:

claggor gifts you one of his hybrid plants! 

this is a huge honour since they’re basically his children 

the one he gifts you was a seedling from the very first plant that managed to survive off the fissure gases 

gives you a whole speech on how to properly care for it (tells you the secret is to whisper positive affirmations to it every morning) 

he’s nervous gifting it you since it means so much to him, but he knows he can trust you to look after it 

it’s so sweet since he’s sharing such an important part of his life with you!

he would love it if you gave him cuttings from a rare plant you may or may not have taken from some rich piltie 

claggor’s favourite holiday activity is baking! 

he has his own apron and everything 

makes cookies and yule logs topped with marshmallows - he goes above and beyond 

makes enough to give out to family and friends 

he loves seeing people enjoy his labor of love, it makes him all fuzzy inside 

claggors’s favourite christmas song is it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas 

AU!Mylo:

mylo gifts you wool gloves!

you always complain about having cold hands so whenever you two are outside, your hands are always in your pockets

but he wants to hold your hand :(

so gloves it is!

two birds with one stone

he would love it if your gift was literally just a kiss under the mistletoe, he doesn’t ask for much!

mylo’s favourite holiday activity is scavenger hunts!

he’s another one who thinks certain activities are childish, but once he gets in the zone istg he’s shoving actual kids out of the way 😭

like i genuinely believe you would have to restrain him because he’s going feral over this

he needs to calm down tbh

probably loses to a five year old and sulks for the rest of the rest of the day

mylo’s favourite christmas song is a nonsense christmas

Silco:

silco gifts you expensive clothes and perfume/cologne

he’s got MONEY and i feel like he wants to make up for the fact that he’s never had much growing up, so he spoils you in all the ways you deserve

he rolls his eyes if you tell him you don’t want anything for christmas

as if he would let you celebrate the day empty handed

when you asked him for a big fir tree you got it, along with mountains of presents stacked underneath

way too many for one person

he watches you intently with a smirk on his face, loving the way your eyes light up with each present you unwrap

he likes having the satisfaction that only he can treat you like this

he would love it if you offered to inject his eye as a gift - he can’t really reject this, can he?

if you offered under any other circumstances, he would probably say no

silco’s favourite holiday activity is dressing up as santa!

ok hear me out

one day when jinx was younger she asked if she would see santa that year

and he just…dressed up as him?? and gave her presents??? and now it’s a tradition that’s stuck 😭

keep in mind jinx didn’t believe in santa at this point but he had no idea about this so he didn’t want her to be disappointed

his santa impression is just “ho, ho, ho” 😐 he’s so deadpan it’s hilarious

he has this tacky stiff beard and pillows stuffed under his costume

so when you find out about it, you beg to see it with your own eyes

it’s sooooo embarrassing for him but he loves making his favourite people happy no matter the cost

doesn’t let anyone else but you two and sevika see him like that

silco’s favourite christmas song is…the christmas song lol

Sevika:

sevika gifts you a custom-made gun, “to Y/N, from sev” inscribed on the handle 

she’s secretly whipped for you but can’t let anyone else know, how else is she meant to keep up her tough facade? 

teaches you how to use the gun - she doesn’t want you to be defenceless in the lanes, especially since you’re connected to someone like her 

her worst fear is someone hurting you to get to her 

she would love it if you got her a backup arm, god knows hers is always getting ruined considering all the fights she gets into 

sevika’s favourite holiday activity is watching christmas movies!

she rarely gets a moment to relax so when the holidays come around, she loves getting to chill with you on the couch 

you guys watch those awful hallmark movies and you spend the entire time complaining the the tv about how unrealistic and dumb the characters are 

she throws popcorn at the tv whenever her least favourite character shows up 

oooh i can picture you two sipping on mulled wine, sevika’s arm wrapped around your shoulders 

you’re basically snuggled into her lap and she lives for it 

would die if anyone saw her like that though 

makes it a yearly tradition to show you the picture she secretly took of silco dressed up as santa 

she basically glows inside when she hears your laughter ring out like bells 

sevika’s favourite christmas song is please come home for christmas 

Vander:

vander gifts you free hug vouchers lmao 

i see him as someone who values sentimental value over material possessions, so he came up with this genius idea >:)

you’re having a bad day? redeem a free bear hug!

you’re feeling sappy? redeem a free bear hug! 

you just want a hug? you don’t even need to ask! 

he was scared you would think he was just being lazy with this present but he’s elated when he sees you openly tearing up at it 

you both laugh at the christmas table over his present 

he would love it if you gave the kids a gift, it shows how much you care! 

vander’s favourite holiday activity is carol singing

except drunk (it’s for charity!)

drunk carol singing is good for the soul, or so he says 

i can imagine him and silco when they were younger wandering the streets, cheeks red with sappy grins straining their faces, belting out songs at the top of their lungs 

multiple people told them to shut up 

they just sang louder 

end up at the last drop where they have a karaoke session 

when he does get tips for his carolina, he uses it to help the most vulnerable people in zaun 

helping his people is his main priority  

vander’s favourite christmas song is let it snow

masterlist

[acanvasofabillionsuns]

[ID: The first image is a movie poster for the Dreamworks movie Home, showing Oh, a Boov (a wide, short, purple creature), Tip, a black girl, and a calico cat. The rest of the images are screenshots of sections of The True Meaning of Smekday, by Adam Rex.

In a ridiculously short amount of time, the Boov determined that humans were unwilling to mix peacefully into their culture. They pointed out all the people who fled instead of welcoming their new neighbors, even those whose homes had been taken outright. Captain Smek himself appeared on television for an official speech to humankind. (He didn't call us humankind, of course. He called us Noble Savages of Earth. Apparently we were all still living on Earth at this point.) "Noble Savages of Earth," he said. "Long time have we tried to live together in peace." (It had been five months.) "Long time have the Boov suffered under the hostileness and intolerableness of you people. With sad hearts I now concede that Boov and humans will never to exist as one." I remember being really excited at this point. Could I possibly be hearing right? Were the Boov about to leave? I was so stupid. "And so now I generously grant you Human Preserves—gifts of land that will be for humans forever, never to be taken away again, now." I stared at the TV, mouth agape. "But we were here first," I said pathetically.

The tent was strung with white Christmas lights and packed with people, all facing a stage on one end. And on the stage stood a redheaded man in a wifebeater with a Viking tattooed on his chest. People were booing him. "Shut up!" the redhead was saying. "I have the stage! All I'm saying is, now that we've all had to leave our real homes, we got a chance to get America right! There can be a place for the Saxon Americans, and a place for the coloreds, and a place for—shut up!"

"So every place has some kind of leader?" I asked. It had all happened so fast. "Sure. Most of them are former state governors, or senators, or whatever. The president runs a little town called Rye." "Just a little town?" "Yes..." said Mitch. "He's not very popular anymore, because of the invasion. People assume it was his fault somehow. But we have to have leaders. We have to have government." "I guess," I said. "Daniel Landry's district is far south of here," he said, "on some former Indian land." "Indian land? Like a reservation?" "That's right." "Is this Dan guy an Indian?" "I don't think so, no. I'm pretty sure he's white. He wasn't a governor or anything before, but he's really rich, so I imagine he's a good leader." "Uh-huh. But he's white," I said. "The Indians elected a white guy?" "Well...I don't know. I imagine all the other people elected him. It's mostly white folks living on the reservation now." I frowned. "And the Indians are okay with this?" "What do you mean?" "Well...it was a reservation," I said. "It was land we promised to the Native Americans. Forever." Mitch looked at me like I was speaking in tongues. "But...we needed it," he said.

"Mr. Hinkel," said the Chief, jerking his head toward the sleeping man. "He thinks Indians like me ought to live somewhere else. Likes to tell me about it a lot." I didn't really want to talk about Mr. Hinkel. "Well, maybe they'll let him go soon." "Doubt it," said the Chief. "Got beat up pretty good by someone who thinks gay people like him ought to live somewhere else."

The last excerpt from the book is in comic format, divided into four main panels. The first is captioned, "2,000 (two thousand) years ago - Many schools closed by the HighBoov, because Money is Needed Elsewhere. Boov are told not to worry about learning unimportant things. Boov are told to learn one useful thing that may be done over and over again and give their life meaning. HighBoov devise clever tests to find which Boov should be taught more, and which Boov should not be taught because Money is Needed Elsewhere." Boov are shown doing things like guarding, serving food, and taking care of children.

The second panel is captioned, "1,150 (one thousand, one hundred and fifty) years ago - Certain Boov who were taught many things announce that industry is polluting the waters of Boovworld." Boov in uniforms point to a chart of their world and gesture to something outside a window, presenting this information to other Boov in fancy outfits. "These scientist predict that the oceans soon will no longer be able to sustain life, unless things are changed."

The third panel is captioned, "1,149 (one thousand, one hundred and forty-nine) years ago - HighBoov declare that these warnings of pollution cannot be proven, so therefore nothing should be changed. The scientist Boov who gave these warnings are declared evil-evil that they should call our God unclean. These Boov are named the Forgotten and sent onto land into exile forever. Some of them die of asphyxiation. Most don't." A line of Boov trudge out of water onto land.

The fourth panel is captioned, "1,003 (one thousand and three) years ago - God dies of asphyxiation." There are many skeletons with lots of darkness in the background.

Plain text: "1,003 years ago, God dies of asphyxiation" End ID]

like the most politically neutered movie of all time unironically

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Champagne Problems

♥ masterlist | request rules | 12 days of ficmas

♥ pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

♥ synopsis: the two of you end up at a party with different intentions

♥ wc: 2k - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing, angst, and alcohol (drink responsibly please lol) !!!

♥ a/n: TONS of angst in this fic so get ready lol <3 i've been wanting to put out this fic for SO long you don't understand. tagging bestie @theonottsbxtch

Charles was head over heels in love with you—it was a shame, really.

You sat on your shared king sized bed in a sparkly dress, observing your boyfriend as he slipped on a gold watch. 

“We need to leave soon mon amour,” he said, wandering over to you and kissing your cheek. “We don’t want to be late, do we?”

You nodded and adjusted the jewelry on your hand.

Charles folded the cuffs on his sleeve, “You alright?”

“Mhm,” you nodded with a fake smile.

You hadn’t seen Charles in months because of his work. Ironically the first place he wanted to take you was a gala... For his work.

The two of you met because of your love for F1. The narrative of Ferrari brought you together and despite his promises to be there for you, he always left them unfulfilled.

You were alone. Way too often. Left by yourself to take care of Leo and be his wag.

You and Charles wandered outside the apartment to his car. He opened the door for you—like a gentleman. But you couldn’t shake this melancholic feeling whenever you’re around him.

-

”Hey, where’s Charles?” Arthur, your boyfriend’s younger brother asked with a smile.

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink, and gazing at the room full of talkative people. The second you got there he wandered off to find Pierre. You couldn’t even blame him. This was for business after all.

”Hm, that’s odd. I’d expect him to be with you.” he scrunched his nose. “I remember one time last year—he was so excited to come home for winter break and see you. He would talk about you all day to me on the phone,” Arthur chuckled.

You gave him a faint smile. That was the Charles you fell in love with. Alas, he was across the room talking to someone else’s girlfriend.

“Well, let me know if you see him. I’ll see you in a few weeks for Christmas, yeah?”

You swallowed hard, pausing before a response.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” you smiled with a nod.

“Great, Maman said she already got you gifts,” he laughed. “I’ll see you around Y/n.”

He nudged your shoulder with an infectious smile, wandering off with a drink in hand.

God, why did this have to hurt so fucking much.

-

“Thank you all for being here,” a man said into a microphone, commanding the room to silence. “It has been an incredible season, but now we must start planning for the next one. Thank you to all our sponsors who are able to make this happen and congratulations to all that we have done this year.”

He raised his glass of champagne, leading everyone to follow and clink theirs together. You sat at a round table with your closest friends from the industry, Pierre and Kika as Charles got up to ask the man at the front of the room something. He came back with the microphone in hand and turned it on.

He stared down at you, eyes peering lovingly into your soul.

“Y/n… you are the most beautiful, kind, intelligent woman I have ever met,” he spoke into the mic, elicting a few ‘awh’s’ from the crowd and drawing at least a hundred eyes to you.

Charles slowly bent down, grabbing something out of his suit pocket.

Your eyes widened and you tried to say something but you couldn’t. Every word was trapped in your mouth, despite your jaw being on the floor. Plenty of gasps and whispers came from the room. You could see Kika’s eyes light up, clearly ecstatic for you.

“I don’t really have a whole speech planned,” he laughed softly. “All I can really say is how much I love you… Will you marry me?”

He flicked the ring box open, revealing a gold ring with a huge diamond.

You paused, trying your best to take in everything that has happened before shaking your head.

“Charles… can we talk about this somewhere else?” you whispered.

Charles' expression dropped instantly. He knows what that really means.

More gasps. More gossip.

Clearly the whole room knew what it meant too.

“Is she fucked in the head?” you heard someone from the crowd whisper.

Followed by, “If she won’t marry him I will,” and “What a shame.”

”I’m sorry Charles, I’m gonna get a Lyft.” you whispered, squeezing his hand.

Kika looked at Pierre completely stunned. This was certainly not how the two of them thought the night was going to go. This was certainly not how you thought the night was going to go.

Kika’s heels clicked on the tile floor as she ran after you, pushing the two glass doors open to find you sprinting down the long set of stairs.

“Y/n, wait!” she shouted after you.

You sat at the bottom step, waiting for your ride to arrive.

She stopped beside you, “I can drive you home,” she mumbled.

“That’s alright, I already paid for it.”

She sat down beside you and put a warm hand on your shoulder.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

You grabbed her hand gently, feeling the coldness of her gold rings. You shook your head no.

She wrapped an arm around your shoulder, forcing your head to rest on her shoulder.

She kissed your head sweetly, “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered in your hair.

-

You tossed your things on a table right next to the front door and kicked off your heels. You strut over to your kitchen and opened the fridge in hopes to find more alcohol. You were already probably drunk on Dom Perignon and your own tears, but with everything going on you might as well try to forget the horrendous night.

You grabbed a small glass from a cabinet and closed the fridge door, flinching when you saw Charles standing in the dark.

“Jesus Christ, Charles…” you whispered, pouring yourself some straight Vodka.

You braced your hands on the side of the marble counter, closing your eyes. Maybe if you close them tight enough he’ll disappear.

You sighed, “I don’t know how to start this conversa-“

“You said no?” he whispered. You could hear the heartbreak in his words.

You swallowed hard, looked around the room—anywhere but his eyes.

“I never said no…” you trailed off.

“But you meant no, right?”

You thought about marrying him before. A lot, actually. Racing, Traveling, Family. But there was always one thing missing from every daydream. And that thing was Charles.

You can’t follow him around the country for his job and even if you did—is that who you wanted to be? Just the wife of Charles Leclerc? 

“I don’t think you can truly be committed to this relationship. This isn’t what I need, and that’s okay.”

“I can't truly be committed?” he scoffed. “I'm not truly committed enough to get down on one knee?” 

Your relationship this past year wasn’t what you wanted. But one day it will be what someone else wants, and that’s what he deserves.

“C’mon Y/n, I love you-“ he muttered.

“Love isn't always enough,” you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

Ah, the painful truth.

You watched as his face dropped, fully taking in the cruelness of your words. 

“Charles, I’m sorry…” you whispered, tears forming in your eyes. 

“Just go. Foutez le champ de chez moi, I don’t want to see you right now.” (translation: get the fuck out of my house) he muttered harshly. 

-

It’d been a year since you last saw him. That night you packed up all your things as he slept at Arthur’s. You were gone by the time he got home.

You still spent time in the F1 scene. You had friends there too, but it still felt a little cruel. You didn’t fall out of love, at least not with someone like Charles—that doesn’t happen. 

If the circumstances were different you might have been married. You would’ve had a beautiful ring, a beautiful family, and a beautiful man. 

“Y/n,” Kika shouted through a laugh, half sprinting in her heels. Her right hand settled on your bicep and her left took your forearm, yanking you towards a group of women. 

“C’mon, I haven't seen you in months,” she said, causing you to crack a smile. You rolled your eyes and slipped off your bar stool, ready to get a little tipsy with your friends. She was right. It had been way too long since you had a girls night. The last one was before you lost your status as a wag. 

Today it was you, Kika, and Rebecca—all in elegant outfits that perfectly fit your vibes. Kika in a black long sleeve, off the shoulder neckline number, Becs in a sparkly red one that she luckily got to keep after modeling, and you in a short white satin dress with spaghetti straps and some matching white heels. 

“You look like you need a drink,” Rebecca said, looking you up and down. 

You sighed, “I haven’t been to an F1 event since you know…” 

She rolled her eyes, “That's exactly why you need a drink. Forget about him and have fun with us. Your favorite sport should not be attached to the memory of a man.” 

Great point. 

“Come here,” she dragged you back to the bar Kika pulled you from. 

She ordered three martini’s on the rocks, extra olives.

She handed you one of the glasses, “We’re going to meet up with Lily M and Carmen in about an hour alright? We’ll be out of this place in no time and you won’t even think about you know who.” 

“Where are we going?” you asked, sipping the drink with your eyebrows raised. 

“It's a surprise,” Kika said with an eye roll as if to say “duh”. 

You spent the next hour drowning in new conversations and shots. Sure you were at someone’s work party, but it’s not like you had to be professional. No one seemed to give a shit what Charles’ “Ex Wag” was doing.

“Carmen and Lily are outside, are we ready to go?” Rebecca asked, peering up from her phone. 

“Yeah, I just need to find the bathroom and then we can go,” you lied, grabbing your clutch off the circular table. 

You wanted to step outside and get a quick bit of fresh air before you returned to the group. They were doing something amazing in order for you to move on from your past relationship, but all you could think about was something you shouldn’t be. 

It's been a year, you should be over him, right? Too bad the pain didn’t stop at Charles. It was his whole family. God, you missed Arthur so much. You missed fighting with him about what Christmas movies to watch and hanging out in the Ferrari garage together. You missed Lorenzo and his older brother-like wisdom. You missed Pascale and how she welcomed you with open arms into the family. Fuck, you felt like a traitor. 

You sighed and wandered off onto the balcony, picking at the rhinestones on your purse. You leaned over the railing, letting the cool wind kiss your skin. 

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” an accented voice said from behind you. You would recognize it anywhere. 

Charles took his place beside you, avoiding eye contact. It took a good minute before you were able to respond. 

“I- uhm… I heard you and your new girlfriend broke up. I'm sorry,” you muttered. What an odd way to start this conversation. You weren’t even sure if it was true, you heard it in a tabloid. 

He hummed, “I suppose love wasn’t enough to save us.” 

Ouch. 

You scoffed, “Yeah I guess not.” 

The silence was loud. 

“Sorry,” he whispered in a change of tone. Maybe even a change of heart. “It’s good to see you again.” 

“Yeah,” you whispered back, unenthusiastic. 

“The family misses you.” 

You smiled slightly. That was good to hear. “You can tell them I miss them too.” 

“...I miss you.” 

He placed his hand on top of yours slowly, gently rubbing his thumb across yours. His cold silver rings brought flashbacks to your mind.

You looked up at him, tears begging to fall from your lashes but you kept it together; at least until he was gone. 

You squeezed his hand like you used to, “‘l’ll see you around, Charles.” 

You had to remind yourself why you said no everyday. It didn’t matter if you loved him and it didn’t matter if he loved you. You won’t settle for second in his life.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

taglist; @sainzzreputaticn @theseerbetweenus @yawn-zi

[peachylynnie]

gift exchange

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: in which you get sick on christmas, and sylus is there to make it better.

contains: sylus x mc!reader (not dating but sylus is down bad), christmas themes, a singular reference to his myth, a singular reference to grassland romance, mentions and consumption of food, suggestive themes, cursing, angst, and fluff.

a/n: i got sick. again. on christmas too. you know what that means. sylus time! on a related note, i hope everyone had a wonderful christmas. my rafayel fic is gonna upload soon as well. enjoy! reblogs and comments always welcome! do NOT copy or translate my work. sylus does NOT endorse plagiarism.

you curse as you rip open a hot chocolate packet. "sick on christmas," you grumble as you pour the contents into a mug. "how the fuck is that even possible."

of course, anyone can get sick at any time. it's inevitable. but, seriously? of all the days the pain in your throat and ears could have appeared, it just HAD to be on fucking christmas day. sure, it's not like you had any plans. normally you would celebrate with grandma and caleb by feasting on countless dishes and singing christmas songs from an old karaoke machine caleb swears isn't broken. but they're not around anymore.

you sigh miserably as you trudge over to the water dispenser for hot water, not wanting to think about your lost family. as you press the button for hot water, you lean against the dispenser, trying to figure out what you're going to do for the rest of the day. you were planning on visiting the market to make a nice dinner or perhaps order takeout at your favorite restaurant. but those are no longer viable options since your throat is killing you and your ears are incessantly burning. maybe you can order delivery? but that means you're going to have to clean up afterward, and you did NOT want to clean anything at the moment, especially with the state you're in.

shaking your head, you bring your mug back to the kitchen counter and search for a spoon.

"water for hot chocolate? i'm disappointed, sweetie."

you jump, an "oh, fuck!" leaving your mouth. sylus had materialized in front of you, a plastic bag in his left hand and a present box in his right. not like you noticed though. you were too startled by his sudden appearance. "what the fuck, sylus?! can't you knock?!"

"no," he deadpans, placing the bag and box on the kitchen counter. his fingers make quick work of untying the double knot on the bag. "besides," he spares you a glance. "i don't think someone who uses water to make their hot chocolate deserves a knock."

you roll your eyes. of course he fixates on that and doesn't explain why he's in your crappy apartment slandering you instead of downing at LEAST three glasses of wine in his luxurious penthouse on christmas day too. "well, screw me for being lazy, i guess," you mumble, crossing your arms.

"don't tempt me."

"huh?"

"what?"

you shoot him a look before grabbing your mug and heading to the other side of the kitchen counter. sitting on your squeaky high chair, you ask, "why are you here, sylus?"

he takes out a styrofoam container and opens its lid. immediately, the comforting smell of miso greets you. as sylus opens a cabinet to retrieve a pot (you don't question how he knows where to find it), you try to look at what else is in the plastic bag. tilting your upper body, you notice another container and hope it has some rice inside. what you don't notice is sylus' breath hitching when he turns back to you after pouring the miso soup into the pot and turning on the stove.

you were wearing a nice, loose top in your favorite color. except, its neck portion was completely cut off, leaving your collarbone and shoulders deliciously exposed. and because you were leaning on your side to take a look at what he had brought you (he loves when you're curious about anything involving him), the sleeve was slowly yet surely sliding down your arm, threatening to show a cup of your bra.

sylus instantly turns back to the stove, even though the miso soup shows no signs of boiling. rubbing a hand over his face, he shakes his head. no, he's not here to ogle at you (the top looks really good on you, and fuck, did your bra cup your breasts really nicely). he's here to take care of you. earlier, mephisto alerted him you were taking some cough drops. and knowing you, you probably didn't have any food on hand to sustain you through your sickness, given his last (secret) visit to your apartment to stock your (empty) fridge. taking a deep breath, sylus returns to the kitchen counter, reaching for the other container. he notices your inquisitive eyes.

"i'm here because it's christmas." he opens the container, and to your delight, it's omurice. marveling at how fluffy the omelette looks and how savory the fried rice appears, you almost miss his answer.

"huh?" you frown. "you're here because it's christmas?"

"is that not what i just said?" sylus jests as he plates the omurice and places it in your microwave.

"well," you start carefully. "shouldn't you have better things to do? like take luke and kieran shopping or pop open another bottle of wine because woo! christmas!"

the silver-haired man shakes his head with a chuckle, propping his hands on the kitchen counter. you try not to focus on his exposed forearms too much. forget the omurice and miso soup; you'll take his arms instead.

"first of all, luke and kieran are busy—"

"on christmas?!"

"yes, sweetie, on christmas." he raises a brow at you for interrupting. you drag your sleeve back up sheepishly.

"second of all, what makes you think i haven't already indulged in a bottle of wine today?" he tilts his head and crosses his arms, gazing at you with a hint of amusement in his ruby eyes.

you pout and look away. "fair point, i guess."

enjoying your cute reaction, sylus returns his attention to the stove. pleased to find the miso soup boiling, he turns off the stove and takes out a bowl from your cabinet (again, how does he know where to find that?). using a ladle to pour into the bowl, he hums a little tune. you try not to snicker at how terrible he sounds. after sliding a bowl of soup and a plate of omurice to you, sylus plants his elbows on the counter and rests his chin on a palm, allowing him a perfect view of his beloved (though you don't know you're his beloved yet; luke and kieran called him a loser before getting their asses handed to them).

"uh," you look at sylus, then at the food, and then sylus again. "you're not going to eat?"

he shakes his head. "i already ate before coming here."

hesitantly, you pick up your utensils. "you know you technically haven't answered my question, right?"

"i'll tell you once you finish." sylus responds immediately. it's almost as if he knew what you were going to say.

no longer wanting to torture your stomach, you cut into the omurice and take a bite. "mmm!" you cover your mouth as you chew. the softness of the egg, the savoriness of the fried rice—oh, you're in heaven. "this tastes really good, sylus!" you take a sip of the miso soup as well. not only does the warm broth soothe your throat, but the spice that comes with it clears up your sinuses, ceasing the burn in your ears.

the man in front of you can't help but smile at the sight. you, in your most vulnerable, beautiful state, enjoying his cooking. he could die a happy man here. and it wouldn't be the first time his cause of death is you. not that he minds or anything.

"thank you, sylus." you take a few more bites before swallowing. "seriously, i needed this."

"i know, sweetie," he says gently. "i know."

you glare at him, but not with as much malice as you used to. "did mephisto snitch on me or something?"

sylus lets out a laugh before grabbing the present box and joining you on the other side of the counter. "he simply saw a poor little hunter in need of some saving."

"since when does being sick mean needing saving?" you mutter as you set your utensils down, having finished the meal. you make a mental note to ask where he got the food. you're definitely going to visit wherever this exquisite meal came from (the man sitting next to you would die if he knew you wanted to visit his place).

sylus hands you the present box, causing your eyes to widen as you finally process its existence. "merry christmas, sweetie."

instead of accepting it, you jump out of your seat and dash to your room, though not without yelling a "wait here!" your heart beats rapidly as you open your closet door, your eyes landing on a small box wrapped in glossy black paper. yes, you were planning on spending christmas alone. yes, you were planning on giving this to sylus as nonchalantly as possible AFTER christmas (as much as he infuriates you, you still wanted to gift him something. why? you're not sure). and yet, here you are, holding the gift to your chest as you sprint back to the kitchen. "here," you pant as you thrust your gift into his lap. "merry christmas, sylus."

now it's his turn to be surprised. peering at what you just put in his lap, sylus can't help but blush profusely. you gifted him something. you actually gifted him something. you went out of your way to buy something for him. you thought of him. sylus brings a hand to his mouth, his fingers gripping the sides of his face hard. oh, you're too much. it's taking him everything to not crash himself into you and hold you tightly with his arms, to press himself so deeply into you until there is no chance in heaven or hell you could be separated from him.

"sylus?" you snap him out of his thoughts. "you okay?"

he blinks. "ah." releasing his face from his grip, sylus looks at you with a composed smile. "i'm alright, sweetie. thank you for the gift," he says as he starts unwrapping.

"it's not much," you say shyly. "thank you for your gift too. i'll open it after you finish opening yours."

sylus nods as he opens the box. his lips part when he finds what lies inside. a pair of black gloves, thermal lined with genuine fleece and adorned with adjustable straps. but most importantly, embroidery by your hands. he could recognize your handiwork anywhere thanks to your previous adventure in the grasslands. the white dove delicately sewn into the wrist of the right glove and the initials of his name intricately engraved into the wrist of the left. the man can't help but smile for the umpteenth time tonight. you really were something else.

"i noticed you wear fingerless gloves whenever you ride your motorcycle," you start as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. "as stylish as they are, mr. sylus," you tease. "i think it's better to have gloves that keep you warm during late-night joyrides, especially now since it's winter." finding the courage to grin at him, you conclude your explanation with, "merry christmas, sylus."

sylus swears he sees an angel sitting next to him. how could you not be an angel? with the way you're smiling at him right now? and the amount of thought you put into this gift? (he's trying not to obsess over the fact that you observe him whenever he rides his motorcycle.) the head of onychinus has never believed in angels. but now, he does. thanks to you.

"thank you, sweetie," he tries to say as calmly as possible. "i will cherish them." when he attempts to put the gloves on, you stop him.

"wait, you don't need to put them on yet! you're going to get hot."

"it's fine," sylus assures as he secures the straps. "i want to."

"okay," you flush, happy that he likes the gift. "let me open yours now."

you wonder why his box is so heavy as your fingers rip off the tape. a gasp escapes your mouth as the wrapping paper falls to the ground. "sylus," you tremble. "i can't accept this."

a record player. a sleek, gorgeous record player with an obsidian platter, supported by a mahogany base and a crystal case. you stroke the tonearm, dragging your index finger all the way to the headshell and relishing in the cool feeling the metal provides. "sylus…" you trail off.

"there's more, sweetie." he murmurs. out of thin air, sylus materializes several vinyls with his evol. your eyes widen, recognizing the images that lie at the center of each disc.

"oh my god, sylus!" your favorite band, he got you vinyl records of each album from your favorite band. they've never even had vinyl records before. holy fucking shit. "sylus!" you chant excitedly, leaping into him as you wrap your arms around his neck. "sylus! you shouldn't have! oh my god!"

you jump up and down eagerly, leaving the man stunned in his chair. his arms are outstretched, unsure what to do for the first time ever. you freeze, realizing the position you are in. "oh uh," you quickly retract from him, a red hue forming on your cheeks. "sorry about that." you go to sit back down in your chair, but sylus doesn't let you. he pulls you back to him with an arm around your waist and a hand at the back of your head. standing at full height, the head of onychinus hugs you tightly, so tightly it's as if he never wants to let you go. you hesitate before returning the hug, questioning the man's motives. but he doesn't say or do anything. just stands embracing you. realizing he bears no ill will, you pat his back playfully. "you know i'm sick, right?"

his grip doesn't loosen. "yes, i know."

"you're going to get sick, sylus," you tease, trying to pull away. as much as you appreciate his warmth, the last thing you want is for him to get sick. just the thought of it strikes fear in your heart. you're not sure why. "come on, let go."

sylus sighs before untangling his arms and sitting back down. he'll give in for now. besides, he wouldn't trade that elated look on your face when he revealed the records for anything in the world. he supposes he can enjoy such a view some more.

you giggle excitedly as you examine the vinyl records. "oh, should i play this one first? oh, what about this one? no way! you got this one too?!"

as always, you don't catch the woozy, lovesick smile that appears on sylus' face as he folds his arms and leans back to admire you. if this is what christmas with you is going to look like in the future, sylus desperately hopes you'll spend every christmas with him from now on. but, just to be sure, because nothing is guaranteed in the future, he follows your example and says for the second time of the night, "merry christmas, sweetie."

[heartmix]

Come To The Game - Joe Burrow

Pairing: Joe Burrow x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k+

Warning: lying to parents, hopelessly in love best friends

Twelve Fics of Christmas - Christmas Game

A/N: this is really all over the place, i had no clue where i wanted it to go and had no clue how to end it.

Masterlist / NFL Masterlist

America's favorite sport, football. America's favorite time to celebrate while watching sports, holidays, specifically Christmas. It was a tradition in your family to spend Christmas day watching football and eating food, much like your Thanksgiving tradition. After opening presents everyone would gather in the living room to watch whatever game was playing. 

This year was a bit different. For one your parents and siblings would be traveling to Cincinnati to spend Christmas with you. The appeal of snowfall and wanting to be in a new place for the holidays was enough to convince them. What really sealed the deal was that you got them Christmas Day tickets to watch the Bengals vs Steelers. Well, Joe got them for you. It took days of convincing from him to let him do this for you and your family. 

"This is perfect. We'll finally be together in the same place for Christmas. I have my parents up in the family box so why not have your family meet mine?" He made a case knowing how badly you also wanted to go see them on Christmas day, it would also be your first Christmas game. 

"Joe I know how much tickets are for games, but I can't phantom how much holiday games cost." 

"You don't seem to care about the price when you're at every game." He smirked making you groan as his argument. He had a point, you never turned down a game for as long as you knew him. 

"I hate you." You mumbled out as soon as he sent you the tickets for the game. 

With a big smile, he said, "I know." 

Game day rolled around fast. Since the Bengals were the first game of the day everyone woke up extra early to get ready and meet at the stadium before the traffic was too bad. Everyone came to an agreement to wait till tonight to open presents. You were yet to tell them it would be at Joe's house with his family. 

After greeting a few security guards and workers you knew, one of the Bengals assistants walked you guys up to the family suite making your once loud family quiet. They were suspicious you were friendly with the staff, but being led to the suite silenced them completely. 

"Honey, please tell me you didn't spend millions for these seats." Your mom's voice rang as she took in the suite. It was decked out with fancy seating, buffet tables, and tv's on every corner. 

This is why you were nervous and hesitant about Joe inviting them to the game. There might have been a few details you forgot to tell them. One of them being that you knew the Bengals Quarterback. Joe has been your best friend since he got signed to the Bengals. He met you while exploring the town and you offered to show him what you knew after being there for years to attend university. 

"Umm-" Before you could respond a voice called out for you. Turning around you found it was Joe's mom who was waving you over to where you guys would be sitting. 

"Robin! Hi!" You embraced the woman despite seeing her just a few days ago when you and Joe picked them up from the airport. 

"Hi, sweetie." Joe's dad greeted you next and you gave him the same warm hug you gave Robin. 

"This is my parents, brother and sister. Guys this is Robin and Jim." You introduced everyone, them taking time to greet and hug each other. 

"It's so great to finally meet you guys, your daughter is just an angel." Robin went on to your parents who still had confused faces. 

"This is Joe's parents." Clarifying your confused family. 

"Burrow?!" Your brother asked a bit too loud for your liking, like there weren't other people in the suite, mainly the player's families. 

"Yeah, the quarterback." 

"How the hell do you know Joe Burrow?" Your dad's face was in shock, it was hard to surprise the man so seeing that reaction scared you. 

"Umm since his first year of being on the team." 

"Well, we have to thank him for this then." He put two and two together that you probably didn't spend money on these at all. 

"Good thing you'll be spending Christmas night with us!" Robin said with a big smile ignoring that you didn't tell your parents about her son. She didn't mind at all, thinking you didn't want to flaunt Joe around. 

The look your mom gave you was one of 'we are going to talk when we get in the car' One you weren't looking forward to. There was never once you hid something from her, especially your friend group. 

"Ooooh, youuu in troubleee." Your little sister said making you roll your eyes and push her head to sit down. 

The game went great. Once it started it was like your parents forgot about you lying to them and cheered for the Bengals. The game was electrifying with the Bengals scoring numerous touchdowns eventually getting them the win. When the game ended all of you made your way down to the locker room, per Joe's request. Inside you were panicking, you were praying your dad and brother didn't make any snarky comments, not about Joe but about the circumstance. 

Slowly the players made their way from the locker room to their families, or rushing to get home to see them. When Joe came out he spotted you all instantly. Hugging his parents first he moved on to you with a big smile. Forgetting about everyone for a second you engulfed him with a big hug to the point he lifted you off the ground. 

"Congrats superstar." You smiled as he placed you down. 

"Aren't you glad you came." he teased and at that, you remember your family was here. 

"Guys, this is Joe. Joe this is my family." You stepped aside to present Joe to your folks watching on nervously at the interaction. 

"It's great to finally meet you guys." He smiled at everyone not sure how to properly greet them. 

"I would say it's nice to finally meet you too but we had no clue you guys knew each other." Your dad said but immediately pulled him into a hug like he knew the dude for years. 

"Very nice to meet you honey." Your mom greeted pulling him into a hug also. 

"How did my sister pull you?" Your brother asked making you and Joe go red. There was that snarky comment. 

"We're not dating." You mumbled which caused eyebrows to be raised from your family. 

"Shall we go? I'm cooking dinner tonight!" Robin's voice broke the tension in the air. Thank god for her knowing social cues. 

"Oh great! we can help." Your mom said referring to the both of you. 

The drive to Joe's house was awkward, to say the least. It was filled with you trying not to crash the car as your family interrogated you about Joe and the sudden relationship, or lack thereof. Your dad and brother question about how you two became so close while your mother questions why you hid it from everyone. Bless your sister for being too young to care about you not mentioning Joe, being content with her iPad games.  

"Look I'm sorry okay, I just didn't want to flaunt that I knew him. Can we be civil for tonight because it's Christmas, I don't want you guys mad at me for this today." You begged turning off the car when you were in Joe's driveway. 

"Sorry sweetie, we'll be good." Your dad reassured planting a kiss on your forehead before everyone agreed. 

With being over so often you opened the door like you lived there. You saw Joe and Jim already in the living room watching the second football game of the day while you assumed Robin was in the kitchen preparing to cook. 

"There you guys are!" Jim's voice rang through making you smile. 

"Come watch with us." Joe's charming smile said as your dad and siblings didn't hesitate to find a seat. Joe found your eyes pleading with you to sit next to him. You looked over to your mom who gave you a look of 'I know you love football but you are crazy if you think you're not helping in the kitchen.' she's right and you know she raised you better than that. 

"I'm gonna help in the kitchen, hope it's a boring game." You winked over to Joe and Jim making the older man laugh. For a second you saw a flicker of disappointment in eyes before he stood up to follow you. 

"I'll help you guys." 

For the better half of 2 hours, you, Robin, your mom, and Joe slaved away in the kitchen. There were moments when there would be cheers from both of your dads making your and Joe's head pop up trying to get a glimpse of what was going on. Every so often the two moms would give each other looks. Robin knew that ever since she met you, Joe was head over heels for you. Your mother despite finding out about Joe today knew you cared for him on a deeper level. 

"Why don't you two go watch the game, we got the finishing touches here."Robin's voice broke the two of you away from peaking into the living room. 

"You sure?" 

"Yeah. Go cool off." Your mom said this time and it wasn't a second later that Joe was pulling you away to flop onto the empty two-seater. Jim was used to this action by the both of you but your dad and brother looked over with eyebrows raised. 

"I forgot to say this but thank you for today, despite them being weird." You whispered making sure not to interrupt those who were watching the game. 

"You don't have to thank me, I wanted you there." He smiled pulling your legs onto his lap so that he could rub calming circles into your calf knowing you were stressed about today. 

"Still, It's been great having you in my life." Both of you just smiled and stared into the other's eyes. Both of you were so caught up with each other like it was just the both of you in the room. Nothing else was as important as the both of you being in each other's arms. 

"I really wanna kiss you." He mumbled catching you off guard. Did you mishear him? 

"What?" 

"You heard me." He smirked loving the reaction he was getting from you. He couldn't help it. The way you were looking at him with loving eyes and being so close to him, how could he not want to kiss you? 

"If you really want to." With your final approval, he leaned in, grabbing the side of your bringing your face closer till he felt your lips meet. Butterflies erupted in your stomach making you smile into the kiss. 

"YOU GUYS ARE DATING!" the loud voice of your brother broke the both of you away from the kiss. Looking over to the group of people each of them had different reactions. Your brother had his jaw hanging on the floor, your dad was confused at what he had just witnessed, and Jim who had a smirk. 

"I guess we are." You heard Joe say from beside you. Wiping your head over to him you saw the goofy smile on his face. Today just sealed the deal that he wanted to spend his days and nights with you. 

"We are?" Shocked was an understatement. Sure you both just shared your first kiss, but you didn't think it would move into a relationship immediately after. 

"Yeah, I've been wanting to do that since you came to your first game." He confessed. It was cute to see him like this and you wouldn't mind dating him if you got to see that goofy smile more. 

"Well Merry Christmas, your gift is me." 

"Best gift ever." He smirked before leaning in for another kiss. 

[lives-in-midgard]

My Home

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: After a mission Bucky and you have to stay at a hotel for the night. But when you wake up the next day you're snowed in and maybe can't make it home in time for Christmas.

Word Count: 850

Prompts: snowed in + “Home is not a place, at least not for me. You’re my home.”

From @buck-star Fluffy Winter Event

A/N: I wish all of you a Merry Christmas and happy holidays! I hope you like this 💗 🎄

Divider made by @ buck-star

Fluffy Winter Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It was late at night when you and Bucky were trying to find a hotel. You finished your mission a few hours ago and then went back to the safe house to pick up your stuff and were now walking through the streets of Budapest. As you walked through the streets, holding Bucky’s hand in one hand and your bag in the other, looking at the beautiful Christmas decorations and lights, you began to shiver. Bucky noticed and let go of your hand to take off his jacket. Then he smiled at you before he said.

“Here, take my jacket, doll. I don’t want you to get sick.”

“But then you will be cold.” You said and he shook his head.

“You’re more important.” You wanted to protest, but you knew that Bucky would give you his jacket anyway because he didn’t want you to be cold. So, you let him help you put his jacket on and then kissed your cheek softly.

“Thank you.” You whispered and he smiled at you.

“Let’s find a hotel room so we can snuggle up in bed.” Bucky said with a smile and took your hand again. You walked for a few more minutes and then finally found a hotel. When you walked into the hotel, you were greeted by a warm breeze and a friendly lady. When you went to the reception, Bucky took over the conversation and asked the lady for a room. Luckily, they had a room available for you to sleep in tonight. She gave you the key and then you went to your room with Bucky. The first thing you did after Bucky opened the door for you was to change into some different clothes. Then you jumped into the bed and got comfortable under the covers. Bucky chuckled and looked at you with a warm smile. Then he walked over to you, pulled the blanket aside and laid down next to you.

“Come here, I’ll warm you up, doll.” Bucky said, pulling you closer to him. You laid your head on his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. You smiled softly as Bucky kissed your forehead.

“I’m so excited to go home tomorrow so we can celebrate Christmas together.” You said as you looked up at him.

“Me too.” Bucky said with a smile. You talked for a while about all the things you want to do on Christmas and how excited you are about the Avengers Christmas party that’s happening the next day. After a while, you must have fallen asleep because when you woke up, it was dark in the room and only a little light was coming through the curtains. You laid there for a few more minutes, enjoying Bucky’s loving embrace. After a while, Bucky woke up as well and kissed you.

“Good morning, doll.” Bucky whispered in a sleepy voice.

“Morning Bucky.” You said and gave him another kiss. After a few more minutes, you reached for your phone to see what time it was. Because if you want to be home for Christmas, you’d better catch a flight soon.

“I’ll check if there’s a plane going home soon.” You said and Bucky nodded. As you looked at the website, Bucky gave you a kiss on the forehead and got up from the bed.

“Oh, that’s weird.” You said and Bucky turned around.

“What doll?” Bucky asked curiously.

“It says here that there are no flights today.”

“Maybe Steve can pick us up with a Quinjet.” Bucky suggested and you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You said as Bucky walked to the window and pulled the curtains away.

“Oh, now I know why there are no flights today.” Bucky suddenly said.

“What, why?” You asked and as you looked over at Bucky, he pulled the curtains away so you could see what was going on outside. It had snowed a lot.

“Looks like we’re snowed in.” Bucky said and your smile started to fade. Bucky immediately noticed and walked over to you.

“But we should be home tomorrow…for Christmas.” You began to sniffle. You wanted to have a perfect Christmas with Bucky.

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t cry.” Bucky whispered as he sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug.

“But we wanted to celebrate Christmas at home.” You said as a tear rolled down your cheek. Bucky gently wiped it away with his thumb and then gave you a warm smile.

“We’re already home.” Bucky suddenly said.

“What?” You asked confused.

“Home is not a place, at least not for me. You’re my home.” You began to smile, and Bucky smiled back at you.

“I love you.” You said and then placed your hand on his cheek and kissed him.

“I love you too.” Bucky told you after the kiss.

“You’re right, we don’t need to be at home. The most important thing is that we’re together.” As you said that, Bucky began to smile.

“Well said, doll.” Bucky said and made you chuckle.

“How about we order some breakfast so we can have breakfast in bed?” Bucky asked.

“That sounds perfect.”

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg | @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 |

@mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts | @rogersbarber

[hxney-lemcn]

First Kiss — The Leftovers x gn! reader

summery: your first kiss with your lover.

tw: none.

a/n: I wasn't sure what to call the students who aren't vice/housewardens so now they're deemed the leftovers (sorry Cater 😔). Also, MERRY CHRISTMAS!

wc: 2.6k (~340 per character)

Master List | Housewardens | Vicehousewardens

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Cater Diamond

The atmosphere was warm and soft as you both were hanging out in Cater’s room, is what I would like to say, but it was anything but that. You and Cater decided to have a ‘picnic’ (it wasn’t planned, you both bought your lunches and went to eat in the courtyard) and apparently your confession was a little too hot. What did your blabbermouth happen to say (was it really a blabbermouth if you were just telling a trusted friend something personal)? Well, you happened to let slip that you haven’t had your first kiss yet, and for some reason Cater couldn’t wrap his head around that. He didn’t seem to know how to react, mouth opening and closing as he doubted your sentence. You were so pretty and he found himself falling for you so easily, so the thought of no one else seeing you the way he does left him flabbergasted. And the juicy gossip he was (he just needed to understand this better), he kept prying; ‘weren’t you curious?’ yes, ‘has no one asked to?’ no, ‘has no one asked you out?’ no. That last went sent him on a whole other spiral, but he tried to store that in his head for another time. By the end of his little interrogation, he felt frustrated for you. And sevens, that bashful, saddened look made his heart plummet, and gosh did he want to kiss you silly, to prove whatever false things were rattling in your mind at that moment were wrong, and it seemed that Cater’s control was slipping, the suggestion spilling past his lips before he could stop it; ‘we could kiss, just so you know what it feels like.’ His heart leapt as you eyed him like you were actually pondering it, and that little nod of your head made his heart race. The kiss was soft, hesitant, unsure, but sweet. Hands were kept to themselves, unsure how far you were both willing to cross the line, and as you pulled away, the both of you could only long for more.

“W-well, if th-there’s any other firsts you want to break, caycay’s always here~”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Deuce Spade

The both of you just had the most spectacular date, you had a ton of fun and Deuce seemed to enjoy himself as well. The boy had been a blushing mess, tripping over words and trying to be as gentlemanly as possible, and you were eating up the cute display. He had argued that he couldn’t let you walk home alone, and so there you stood, on your doorstep just a few inches taller than normal. Deuce watched diligently, like there was a chance you would get hurt in the two steps it would take you to get inside (after what you experienced on campus it was a very real fear). You smiled softly at the dark haired boy, thanking him for the wonderful date. In return he managed to blush once more, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to formulate a proper response. So, to tease the poor guy some more, you leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek, watching on in amusement as Deuce seemed to shut down. You hid your cheeky grin behind your hand as he spluttered, trying to say something, but he managed to cut you off guard as he stared in wonder, face a bright red, muttering out ‘could…could you do that again?’. Who were you to deny him? Holding his cheeks, you placed another kiss, this time on the corner of his lips before you found yourself showering his entire face in kisses. You weren’t sure where all this affection was coming from, but neither of you were complaining. As you pulled away once more, you bit your lip before acting on impulse and leaving the lightest, barely there peck on his lips.

“I-I…u-uh…th-thank you. I…I hope we can go on another date…soon.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Ace Trappola

You were rightfully pissed. Ace had been teasing you nonstop about how ‘nobody wanted to date you’, and honestly? It was starting to get under your skin, your old (and normal) insecurities popping up once more. You have been working on it! And just like that he had erased your hard work in improving your mental health. And so what were you doing? Giving him the silent treatment. If he was going to be a jerk then you were going to ignore him. But you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle it, as Ace had been finding any and every way to get on your nerves. You clenched your fist as Ace continued to poke your cheek. You were either going to bite his finger off or twist his arm behind his back if he was going to keep this up. It wasn’t until he asked the dreaded question; ‘what did he do to get you so angry?’ The dam had been broken, and you found yourself venting all your frustrations on him, from his insults to how it affected you, it was all released. The look of horror on the ginger’s face made you feel somewhat satisfied. You were a bit surprised when he apologized so heartfeltly, he genuinely looked appalled at his own behavior for once. It was only a few weeks later when things took a turn. Ace was sleeping at your dorm, and the two of you were hanging out when he asked an out of pocket question; ‘do you wanna kiss?’ It was late, he was too tired to keep his filter up, and gosh did you look kissable (it was the main reason why he was teasing you in the first place). Against your better judgment, you agreed. The kiss was awkward, neither of you sure how far to go, but you’re kinda angry at how much you liked it.

“...you’re better at that than I thought…n-not that I think of kissing you or anything-”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Jack Howl

You watched the weirdo in front of you with a blank face, wishing you could be anywhere but there. This guy decided he wanted to flirt with you, and he was doing it in the worst way possible. I mean who tries to pick someone up by asking to kiss them outright? You kept glancing at Jack, who stood intimidatingly next to you, buff arms crossed as he glared at the guy, but made no move to say anything. You felt a sneer fall over your lips unconsciously as the guy continued to try and shoot his shot, couldn’t he see he was getting nowhere? You tried to let him down nicely before, so this time you decided to be more blunt, stating that you weren’t interested and you don’t just go out kissing people. That was when the guy lashed out, crying out about how you were a jerk, that you were just like everyone else who only cared about themselves. It was when he looked like he was reaching out for you, and you flinched back for Jack to step in (quite literally). Standing in front of you his glare turned dangerous, fangs showing as he snarled, telling the guy to get lost. The both of you finally relaxed when the guy scrambled to get away, leaving you with the wolf beastman. ‘Thank you,’ You muttered, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek. A smug smile tugged at your lips as Jack glanced away, a soft pink dusting his tanned cheeks. ‘Oh, did I miss?’ you teased, eyes catching the way his ear twitched. So, as the merciful person you were, you leaned up and left a small, short, gentle kiss to his lips.

“Hm, i-if you find yourself in need of help, d-don’t be afraid to come to me.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Floyd Leech

You had already found yourself in a tough predicament. You were in the clutches of Floyd Leech when he was in a bad mood. Sure, he was the one who sought you out to squeeze, but you wanted to make sure you didn’t make it worse in any way. So you resigned yourself to your fate as his personal human plushie as he squeezed you from time to time, burying his face in your neck as he grumbled on unintelligently about one thing and another. You brushed your hands through his hair, placing small kisses to the top of his head here and there, feeling relieved as he started to melt in your hold, teeth scraping against your skin as he smiled. You shivered at the sensation, hair on end once more. ‘Oh shrimpy~’ he cooed, giggling like a mad man, face suddenly very much in your own. ‘I wanna kiss’. The request was simple, blunt, but it still left you reeling. You weren’t sure why, in fact, you should be surprised it took so long for him to ask for one, but you still found your eyes widening and breath hitching at the spontaneity of it all. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to it (you suppose that was the appeal to Floyd). You could barely get out the words okay before Floyd pressed his lips to yours in a harsh manner, teeth clashing, lips being bit, hand on the back of your head so you couldn’t pull away. In fact, he wouldn’t stop kissing you, it seemed like forever until he finally got his fill.

“Hehe, you better watch out shrimpy~ I’m already craving another.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Epel Felmier

Your eyes widened as you eyed the intricately carved apple, turning it around to catch every detail. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve such a gift, but you were flattered nonetheless, your eyes finally raising up to meet Epel’s cyan ones. He looked bashful, cheeks tinted a light pink, eyes unable to meet your own. He tripped over his words, trying to make an excuse, stating that no one else was around so you might as well have it (you’ll ignore the fact that there were, in fact, people swarming around the cafeteria like flies). Without a second thought, you gave him a short peck on the cheek and continued business as usual. It wasn’t until Epel kept doing things for you, something that had only recently started. Epel…wasn’t mean by any means, but he also wasn’t one to help someone from the kindness of his heart. Sure, he’d do something for you before while complaining a ton, but recently he had been doing things without you even asking! It was strange, and he always seemed expectant afterwards, like he was expecting you to do something. Not to mention the little pout he thought he hid when you didn’t seem to do what he was anticipating. So, you decided to confront him, asking him outright what he wanted. Of course, he deflected, stating that he didn’t want anything and you were being crazy. A claim he wasn’t able to hide behind for long as you pointed out all the strange ways he’s been acting. Face burning red, Epel turned away, trying to keep his composure, but you seemed to be determined to break it. Your serious gaze locked onto his figure, there was no getting away from this now. And so, he admitted meekly that he wanted a kiss, and who were you to deny him? With a playful grin, you placed a kiss to his lips, reveling in the way he pushed against you like he was desperate (he had been waiting for this for so long). Pulling away, you teased that he only needed to ask if he wanted another kiss.

“I-I…d-damn, fine…do ya think we could do that again?”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Silver Vanrouge

A warm breeze tousled Silver’s white locks, his steel grey eyes hidden behind his shut eyelids. His head rested in your lap, face pressed into your thighs. Squirrels and song birds fluttered around you, a small chickadee nestled on the top of your head. It was peaceful, a nice change of pace from your usual chaotic days. As beautiful as the scenery was around you, with green grass fluttering in the wind and colorful flowers swaying about, your gaze couldn’t help but fall down to the occupant in your lap. How his lashes kissed his cheeks, how the sun made his hair shine, how soft his skin was under the pads of your fingers. Silver has become the most breathtaking sight in your eyes, and the bird that roosted in your hair seemed to agree as it let out a soft series of cheeps that smoothed into a blissful melody. You couldn’t help but think about how much better your life has become once he entered your life, how sweet and protective he was, how sassy he could be when his father made an offer to cook. You had come to love all his quirks, how he could drift off to sleep in even the loudest environment or how he’d try to stay up just for you. Unable to hold your affections in for much longer, you placed a kiss against his cheek, heart fluttering when Silver’s lips tugged into a smile. So what else would you do besides lavish his face in sweet kisses? His eyes fluttered open, and you couldn’t help the huge grin that fell on your lips as he looked up at you affectionately. You greeted him with a kiss to the corner of his lips, a cheesy good morning following. The way he stared at you made your heart flutter and stomach tie in knots, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sleepily, Silver followed your lips without a second thought connecting them in a warm kiss before pulling away sharply, eyes wide as he apologized for not asking for consent, only to be shut up by your lips meeting once more.

“So it's not a dream…thank you.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Sebek Zigvolt

You felt your eye twitch, trying your hardest to keep your composure. It felt like one step forward ten steps backwards when it came to Sebek. You thought you’d finally got to him in some way, only for him to be shouting at you once more for the same thing the next day. Which was happening right now, with him yelling at you about being some lowly human. Just the other day you had a one on one about how those comments hurt you, and he seemed to genuinely understand, so why the hell was he shouting at you again. You had tried throwing insults back, you had tried communicating like a mature person, you had even slapped him once and stormed away in tears! What the hell did you need to do to get through to this hard headed crocodile? Your glare turned sharp as Sebek continued, rambling on about one thing or another. Your exasperation taking over, you grabbed his tie, pulling his face close to yours as you sneered. You were so upset, you didn’t even notice how your noses were touching, instead tearing into Sebek instead. You also didn’t realize how Sebek turned silent, golden green eyes locked onto your figure, cheeks slowly but surely turning bright red. You let out a huff as your rant ended, raising an eyebrow at the half fae’s current state, then suddenly it clicked and an evil grin upturned your lips. Curling your fingers around his tie, you inched your face even closer (somehow), lips hovering over the other. You debated if you should do the evil thing, pull away and leave him hanging, but you also had the urge to kiss him stupid…letting your own desires win, you pushed your lips together in a heated kiss. Sebek was stiff as a board, but slowly melted into the kiss, only for you to pull away, biting his lip in the process.

“Wh-where are you going, human! You cannot k-kiss a knight and walk away without an explanation! H-hey! W-wait up-”

[letsgoletsgetit08]

soft hours pt. 2 - christmas

how they would celebrate christmas with you (plus a suprise they have trouble keeping secret)

maknae line

warnings: mdni, christmas fluff, smut

pairings: choi san x f!reader, song mingi x f!reader, jung wooyoung x f!reader, choi jongho x f!reader

word count: 5.8k

author's note: MERRY TEEZMAS! Here's the maknae line, finally! I picture this as slightly aged up members and their significant others, still famous and working in the industry but with solo careers (hence the ability to take actual time off for themselves). But I did try to keep that part vague. I'm not religious but I grew up with Christmas, but feel free to sub in whatever winter holiday tickles your fancy. Once again found myself writing much more for the maknae line but sue me, it's where 2/3 of my bias line lives!

likes, comments, and reblogs always welcome as long as you're not a minor!

Choi San: “Are you sure you want to do this? My family really wouldn’t mind coming to Seoul instead.” San fixed you with a worried look.

“Choi San,” you rolled your eyes, “I promise you, I’m not only happy but excited to see Namhae. It’s where you grew up, it’s important to me. I don’t care if everyone there knows your name, I don’t care if I’ll get dirty glares in the grocery store. As long as you’re with me, everything will be fine. I want to see every part of you and the town you grew up in is part of that.” 

San’s troubled expression softened, his lips curling into a small smile, dimples revealing themselves on his cheeks, “I’m the luckiest man on earth.” He picked you up before you could protest, spinning you in a circle before gently letting your feet meet the ground once again, pulling you into a swift, tender kiss, “I’m going to make it worth it for you, I promise.”

“Spending time with you is always worth it, Sannie.” You kissed his left cheek, unable to hold back any longer, his dimples having tempted you for too long. 

“Stop being so sweet or we’ll never get on the road.” He teased, planting one last kiss to your forehead before gathering your suitcases into his hands and heading outside towards the Uber. There wasn’t a great way to drive there from the city, so you’d be taking a very quick flight, likely spending just as long in the airport as you would on the plane. At least your days in economy seating were over since having started dating San. 

Airports gave you mega anxiety, and you were soon reminded of several reasons you loved your boyfriend so much. The way he could sense your nerves, keeping you close to his side, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, holding onto your ticket and boarding pass for you so you didn’t have to panic every time you thought you misplaced it, speaking softly in your ear to help distract you from your surroundings. 

He guided you in front of him through security, knowing you didn’t like feeling left behind. He was caught up with security for a minute as his bag passed through the sensor. You could see him trying to remain calm, speaking to the workers in a rushed but polite tone and wondered what the hold up was, but as soon as you were about to approach to check in, he was being waved through, an understanding seeming to have been reached. 

“Everything okay?” You asked as he approached.

“All good,” He smiled at you reassuringly, “Just couldn’t figure out what my razor was I guess.”

“Ah, yes, because you definitely wouldn’t be more dangerous with just your bare hands.” You joked.

“Exactly.” He laughed.

The rest of the flight went off without a hitch, and soon you were waiting on the curb outside of the small airport, excitedly waiting for San’s parents to arrive to take you to their house. 

You loved his family, and they were always so warm and welcoming to you. It was so nice to see them in this context, the town they knew so well and loved. 

Once at their house, you got to see something you’d been dying to witness since you met the man, “Byeoli!” San squealed as his cat trotted out and began rubbing on his ankles, purring loudly, “Hi, baby! It’s so good to see you.”

You knelt down beside San, and Byeol approached cautiously, sniffing your finger until finally deciding she approved, rubbing her cheek on your hand. 

“Look at that. My two girls meeting at last.” San beamed at you, “She likes you. But I always knew she had good taste.”

“He has the best taste, isn’t that right, Byeol?” You addressed the cat rather than San. 

After unloading your luggage into San’s childhood bedroom (still decorated the same, much to your amusement), the two of you were sent on a grocery run for some last minute things San’s mom needed for dinner that night. 

San had been right to warn you. No less than ten people in the grocery store recognized him, assessing you in varying degrees of approval, ranging from polite acceptance to obvious, poorly hidden distaste and jealousy. But the latter didn’t hurt your feelings as much as you thought it would, easy to ignore with how proud San looked when he introduced you to them. 

You adored hearing San wax poetic about his memories of his hometown as you drove around, taking an unnecessarily scenic route back home, how his face lit up when he saw that his favorite old ice cream shop was still open, the billboard with his face on it, which he blushed at the sight of, his high school, the park where he had his first kiss, his dad’s taekwondo studio. All of it was so distinctly him, painting the picture of the man with whom you were so deeply in love with as you put images to places you had only heard described to you before. 

“San,” You grabbed his hand as he parked the car back in the driveway, “Thank you for showing me.”

“It’s not much to show,” He shrugged, “But it’s part of me.”

“It means the world to me, baby. You mean the world to me, and this town is part of you. Don’t undersell its value.”

He picked up your hand that was holding his, bringing it to his lips, kissing each knuckle gently, “I don’t think I realized how important it was for you to see it until we were here.” He sighed, “So thank you, jagi.”

“Any time, my love.” You smiled at him, butterflies fluttering in your stomach at the look he was giving you, amazed that after all this time, he could still elicit that sensation within you so easily. 

You pulled him into a quick, deep kiss, pulling away before the two of you got lost in it, knowing everyone inside was awaiting your return. 

San's older sister and brother-in-law arrived shortly after and you couldn't stop smiling at how happy you were with these people. You were all but estranged from your own family and before you met San, the holidays were spent either with friends or alone and it never really bothered you too much, but now, experiencing what this was like, it was making you emotional. 

As you sat by San's side on the couch in their living room while everyone got caught up, you felt a tear escape your eye, rolling warm down your cheek.

San caught on immediately as you went to wipe it away, “Hey,” he squeezed your hand, “Everything okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” you sniffled, “Sorry, I just really love your family. You know how mine is…”

“Oh, honey,” San wrapped his arm around you, pulling you securely to his side, “I know. You never had this, huh?” 

You shook your head. 

“Well they're your family now, too, jagi.” He assured you. 

San's sister overheard the last part, “Oh, did you already-” 

San cut her off before she could continue, ignoring the confused look on your face, “Let's do gifts!” 

Later that night, you had assured San you could be quiet when you couldn't take his teasing any longer, but you were having a hard time keeping that promise as his tongue lavished your core with expert precision, clasping a hand over your mouth as he carried you over the edge, other hand clasped tight in his hair, desperately trying to keep your movements small but unable to control your hips bucking against his face as you reached your peak, waves of pleasure rolling over you. 

He pulled back, crawling towards you again, settling in behind you, kissing all over your shoulders and neck, “I will never get tired of that.” He whispered, and you could hear the smile on his voice. 

“I hope that's true, because I sure as hell won't.” You turned to catch him in a lopsided kiss, “Let me help you, too, baby.”

“Jagi,” he kissed you sweetly, pulling away to yawn, but lining his cock up to your entrance nonetheless, “How did I get so lucky?” 

“If you're too tired-”

“Never.”

He started rolling his hips slowly, knowing the exact motion that drove you crazy. You were still coming down from your last orgasm and he built it back quickly. Soon, you were clenching around him and his hips stilled as he followed. You tried to adjust to pull yourself off of him, but he wrapped an arm around you, stopping you, “Mmh, no, just stay. You're so warm.” 

“I-” You chuckled as you heard him already breathing heavy, falling to sleep, “Yeah, okay. Anything for you, baby.” 

You awoke a little while later to the feeling of San hard inside you again, unable to stop from clenching at the feeling, realizing he was awake and was obviously trying to stay still. 

“Go ahead, baby, use me.” You whispered. 

He grunted in acknowledgement, rolling you to your stomach and fucking you slowly and carefully into the mattress, your face graciously buried in the pillow to muffle any noises that may have tried to escape. 

Before you knew it, the two of you were falling apart once again. This time, once you had ridden your orgasms out, San pulled out and allowed you to get up and go to the bathroom. 

When you returned, he was sitting up in bed, a wild look on his face as you climbed in beside him, “Jagiya, I lied earlier at the airport.”

“You what? When?” You were racking your brain for anything he had said that might have been false. 

“It wasn’t my razor that confused security,” he pulled a ring box from under his pillow, “It was this.” He opened it, revealing the ring of your dreams, “I was serious earlier though, when I said you're family now. I already consider myself the luckiest man on earth having you by my side, and I want that to be true. Permanently. Take my name. Join my family. And let's start our own someday. Please, love? Marry me.” 

“Choi San.” You felt tears well up again, “Yes, God, yes. Nothing would make me happier.” 

“Choi Y/N.” He whispered it like a prayer. You were his family now and he was yours. You could hardly sleep in your excitement afterwards, making out with your fiance into the early hours of the morning. 

Song Mingi: The bed dipping with added weight roused you from a deep sleep. Blue early morning light streamed in through the curtains as you blinked open your eyes. 

“Mingi?” Your voice cracked as you sat up, bleary eyed and disoriented, reaching for the bottle of water you kept on your bedside table. 

“Baby!” Mingi’s deep voice rattled your sleepy brain as he pounced on top of the suitcase he had just hefted onto the bed, “Can you help me out real quick?”

“What time is it?” You groaned. 

“7am! Come on, we need to be on the road at 8!” 

“Song Mingi. Once upon a time, you and I bonded over the fact that we're not morning people.” You grumbled as you tossed the comforter aside to assist your goofy boyfriend. 

“I know, that's why I was very brave and got up early to pack for us. There’s coffee on in the kitchen, cutie.” He kissed your temple hastily as you came around to help hold the pieces of the suitcase together for him to zip. 

“Okay, I forgive you- wait, is this all games? Do you really think you can get the guys to play Catan again after what happened last time?” You eyed him skeptically. 

“Wooyoung and Jongho made up a week later!” He defended himself, “You know I've gotta at least try.”

“I know, I know.” You rolled your eyes, “It's your favorite.” 

“No, baby.” He grunted as the zipper finally closed all the way, “You're my favorite.” He tackled you back onto the bed, peppering your face with kisses, ending with a slow, sweet kiss on your lips, “I love you a whole lot, have I said that recently?”

“Hmm.” You pretended to consider it, “I mean, not in the last business day, probably.”

Mingi gasped, “Inconceivable!” He practically shouted in your ear, resuming his attack. 

“You're the silliest goose on the whole pond.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. 

“As long as it's your pond.” He replied, hopping to his feet and pulling you up behind him, not awaiting your reply, “C'mon, go get dressed! I'll go pour you some coffee.” 

“You're acting more odd than normal and I'm going to figure out why.” You mumbled as you trudged over to your dresser, finding it nearly empty, “Wait, Mingi, did you pack for me, too?” You called to him in the kitchen.

“Yeah! I just grabbed everything!” He called back, “I laid you out an outfit, it's on your desk chair.”

You looked over to find a pair of his sweats and one of his oversized t-shirts with your bra and a pair of underwear laid on top. “These are your clothes!” You yelled through a chuckle. 

“You look so cute in my clothes,” He reentered the room, handing you your favorite coffee mug, “Plus, I kinda packed everything I've ever seen you wear.” 

You rolled your eyes as you began changing in front of him. 

“Ugh, baby. That's no fair.” He whined.

“What?” You asked, confused, as you pulled on clean underwear.

“You're so hot and I don't even have time to have sex with you about it.” Mingi pouted, ogling you from his position on the bed. 

You laughed, crossing over to him with only underwear on, “Not with that attitude.” 

Half an hour and three orgasms later, Mingi came up for air from in between your legs, licking his lips like he had just eaten the most delicious meal in the world - he probably would argue he had, if you'd asked him. 

“Jagi,” You gasped, still breathing hard as he kissed up your torso, “We have to get on the road.”

Mingi pouted but didn't protest too much, letting you up to get dressed and pack your toiletries. 

Yunho's lake house had become a yearly tradition for the eight of them, everyone heading there a couple of days after Christmas to stay through New Years. Plus ones were prohibited except for “serious” relationships, which they typically defined as at least engaged. You had thought Mingi might propose on Christmas, but you were even more excited at the thought of it happening on New Years Eve. 

Christmas this year had been lovely. He had an uncanny ability for gift giving, you suspected he kept a running list of every thing you mentioned vaguely wanting throughout the year, and this year was no exception. His mom had the two of you over for Christmas, feeding you far too much and giving you knowing glances like she knew what laid ahead for you in the very near future. You were so grateful with how welcoming she had been since you started dating Mingi, knowing how big of a momma's boy he was, her approval meant everything to you. You would have been happy had he proposed at Christmas, and as much as having his mom's approval meant to you, you absolutely adored the seven other members of his group, considering them to already be like brothers to you, and by how they treated you, you figured they considered you similarly. Truth be told though, you would be thrilled no matter where or when he proposed. 

Road trips were one of your favorite things to do with Mingi. They were always filled with silly made-up car games and singing along to music at the beginning, turning to comfortable silence with his hand on your thigh as he drove, talking intermittently about anything and everything and nothing at all towards the end. Most of all, you loved the uninterrupted time you got just to simply stare at him and take him in. You thought he was the most beautiful person on the planet, every detail of his face and body a work of art in and of itself. 

“...and that's why I don't think you'd ever remember it even if you had been abducted by aliens.” Mingi concluded his thesis as he pulled the car into the driveway of the lake house at last. 

“Hmm.” You considered, “I think we'll just have to agree to disagree on this one, my love.” 

“I'm taking a vote when we go in.” Mingi shot you a challenging look as he got out of the driver's seat, darting around to your door to open it for you before you could do it yourself. 

“Good, I can't wait to win the vote.” You teased him, leaning in for a kiss, gasping as he pulled a fast one on you, leaning in to return it only to turn away and deny you at the last second. 

“Song Mingi!” You chastised him, “Fine. No more kisses ever again since you don't want them.”

“What!” He pouted, rushing back over to you with pleading eyes, taking your empty threat seriously, “Baby, no! Please, forgive me, I'm so sorry, don't deprive me!” 

You snickered at him, “Aw, princess.” You pulled him close, giving him a chaste peck on his pretty lips, “I would shrivel up and die if l couldn't kiss you.” 

“You guys are disgusting, I take it back, no plus ones.” Yunho bullied you from the porch, “Mingi, go ahead and go home.”

“Hey!” Mingi barked, offended by his best friend's words. 

“We missed you, too, Yunho.” You rolled your eyes, strolling over to him as he waited with open arms for a hug. 

“It’s been too long, noona.” Yunho crushed you to his chest. You weren't exactly petite, squarely on the tall side and you could wear Mingi’s jeans pretty easily, filling them out similarly in the ass and thigh region, but he and Yunho still made you feel small in comparison. 

“Thank you for inviting me.” You answered through constricted lungs, “I do have to breathe, though.” 

“My bad.” Yunho chuckled as he released you, “I just have to make sure you know you're my favorite. But don't tell anyone.”

You crossed your heart, “It's our secret, Yuyu.” You winked at him. 

The rest of the night followed in a similar fashion, ending with all of you in the spacious living room, pleasantly buzzed. Wooyoung sat curled in San's lap, relaying a story you all had heard a thousand times but indulged in letting him tell regardless, mostly due to the entertaining way he reenacted it. Seonghwa sat on the floor in front of Hongjoong, building the Star Wars Lego set the latter had gifted him from Christmas as his husband stared at him with an endless depth of adoration in his eyes. Jongho, who was pretty perpetually single by his own choice, sat in front of the fireplace with his guitar, humming and singing quietly. Yeosang leaned onto Yunho's shoulder, letting his boyfriend play with his hair absentmindedly. You hadn't realized the two of them were dating, but you had to admit, it was rather cute. Roommates to lovers, a tale as old as time. You supposed the “engaged at minimum” rule didn't apply to the host himself. 

You felt so at peace, so at home with everyone there, so full of love for all of them. Honored to have been let in to this sacred circle and welcomed with open arms. 

The next few days were spent playing games - including, much to your surprise, an oddly civil game of Catan - or with Wooyoung and Mingi in the kitchen, San, Yunho, and Seonghwa fighting like siblings in the snow, Hongjoong and Jongho writing and singing songs together, you and Yeosang watching movies and discussing the quirks - some endearing, some harder to stomach - of your significant others, the two of whom had known one another since middle school. You were so excited for this to be your family, you could hardly wait for New Years. 

When the night in question finally came around, though you knew it was coming (Wooyoung had barged in as you were getting dressed earlier, making sure your fingernails were painted), Mingi’s proposal still managed to surprise you. 

Right before midnight, champagne flutes passed out, all of you dressed in cocktail formal, excited for an excuse to get dressed up after a week of sweats and pajamas, Mingi tapped his flute with a knife to get everyone's attention, “A toast! To my friends, who have been with me through everything, the ups and downs of being idols and just life in general, and most importantly, who have listened and advised me on my relationship with my beautiful girlfriend. It means the world to me that you all love her so much. I consider us to be family,” he turned to you then, fishing in his pocket, “But I'd really like us to be family officially. If you'll have me, sweetheart. Nothing could make me happier.” He knelt down, opening the ring box with one large hand, showing you the most perfect ring you could have dreamed of. 

“Mingi,” you beamed at him, “Yes, of course, baby. You better fucking marry me, you goose.” 

“As long as I'm your goose.” He rose, removing the ring and guiding it gently onto your ring finger. 

“Always.” You promised. 

“Ten!” Wooyoung began the countdown to midnight. 

“Nine!” The others joined in, yourself and Mingi included, waiting for the clock to strike twelve before you sealed the moment with a kiss. 

“Eight!” You all chanted. “Makes one team!” You added in between, garnering laughter from the group. 

“Seven!”

“Six!” 

“Five!”

“Four!”

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!” 

“Happy New Year!” 

It wasn't your first kiss, obviously, but it might as well have been, the way the butterflies in your abdomen danced at the contact, face going warm as several of the boys wolf whistled at the display. It only served to egg Mingi on, and he swung you down into a deep dip, never breaking your kiss. 

“Okay, okay, ew. Enough. Save it for the wedding.” Jongho pretended to complain from across the circle. 

“Booooo!” Wooyoung shot back at him. 

“Be nice, baby.” San half-heartedly scolded him. 

“He's being rude!” Wooyoung defended himself.

Mingi brought you back to your feet as the bickering escalated in the background, wiggling his eyebrows at you conspiratorially. 

You nodded, grabbing his hand and sneaking away as the other seven continued their nonsense, too absorbed in it to realize the two of you had made like bandits for the bedroom. 

Mingi didn't even scold you for getting distracted by your new ring as you straddled him and rode his cock for the first time as an engaged couple. In fact, you're pretty sure he only fucked you harder for it. 

The two of you eventually collapsed onto the bed in a pile of tangled, sweaty limbs after round three, completely blissed out on the love you had for one another and excited for the future together that awaited you. 

Jung Wooyoung: Sure, introducing your Harry Potter-obsessed boyfriend to the Lord of the Rings trilogy was a calculated risk. They had always been your favorite Christmas break movies and you wanted to share that tradition with Wooyoung. You had predicted he would like them, but what you hadn't been prepared for was just how much he liked them. You would be spending a belated Christmas with his family, postponed a few days due to his older brother's work schedule, so Christmas Eve and Day would be spent just the two of you at your apartment together. 

Little did you know, Wooyoung had been planning. 

The unmistakable noise of clattering pots and pans in the kitchen served as your alarm that morning, followed by a hushed curse under Wooyoung’s breath. You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you dragged your still sleep-laden body out of bed, donning Wooyoung’s discarded sweatshirt on your way into the kitchen. 

“Everything okay, baby?” You asked, your voice still gravelly with sleep. 

Wooyoung jumped at the sound of your voice, clearly deeply concentrated as he stirred the pot on the stove, “Ah! Fuck! You scared me!” 

You chuckled, coming up behind him, wrapping your arms around his sinfully slutty waist, “Sorry, kitten,” You apologized, “I just heard a noise and wanted to make sure you were alright.” 

“Dammit.” Wooyoung pouted, “I wanted to wake you up with breakfast, I’m sorry.”

You kissed his cheek, “There’s nothing to apologize for. Want me to go back to bed so you can do your original plan?” 

Wooyoung turned around in your embrace, kissing you on the nose, “No, baby, not unless you want to. It’s almost done and I love your company.”

“Okay, but, um…” You trailed off, hating to ask for something when he was already doing so much, “Nevermind, I’ll do it.”

Wooyoung grabbed your wrist to stop you, “Absolutely not! My baby is not lifting a finger today. What did you need, jagi?”

“I just wanted some coffee.” You smiled at him sheepishly.

“Say less.” Wooyoung beamed at you, planting a swift kiss to your lips before breaking off and moving to make you coffee. 

An hour later, three cups of coffee in, Wooyoung was placing the last pastry on the table after putting a different dish he was preparing for later in the oven. 

“If you want me to die in a food coma, just say so.” You teased him as you sat down to indulge yourself on his delicious-smelling baked goods. 

“No, sweetheart, I just want you to enjoy yourself.” Wooyoung couldn’t contain his smile as he watched your eyes roll back at the first bite of his creation. 

“Baby. No offense but I’m breaking up with you for this danish.” You joked.

Wooyoung’s jaw dropped in fake offense, “But wait! That danish can’t get you off!”

You shrugged, “Ah, well. Good thing I have a vibrator.”

Wooyoung stuck his bottom lip out, “You know good and well you like my dick better.”

“Hm…” You pretended to consider his words, “My memory is hazy, maybe I need a refresher before I can answer that completely honestly.”

The Fellowship of the Ring played in the background as Wooyoung fucked you over the back of the couch, but neither of you were paying attention to the movie. 

“Admit it.” Wooyoung growled in your ear, “My cock is the only thing that can truly satisfy you.”

“God. Fuck, yes, Youngie. Your cock is the only thing now please fuck me harder.” You begged, sweat dripping down your brow as your boyfriend pounded into you painstakingly slowly, knowing he was driving you crazy. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Wooyoung obeyed, picking up his pace until the two of you were panting as you were finally able to release. 

The rest of the day passed much the same way, between eating, fucking, watching movies, exchanging gifts, and nodding off in between. Hours past sunset, the two of you were back in the kitchen, lethargic from your day of consuming calories and quickly turning around to burn them in the most hedonistic ways possible, washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. Wooyoung paused after he put away the last plate you handed him, “Oh, wait! I forgot! I have one more gift for you!”

“Wooyoung!” You protested, “You got me more than enough!” 

“I really think you’ll want this one, though.” Wooyoung winked at you before darting out of the kitchen only to return a few minutes later, hands behind his back, kneeling down in front of you, revealing the ring box he had grasped in his hands, “Baby, you’ve been nothing but a bright spot since you came into my life. I want to spend the rest of it teasing you, spoiling you, and making you laugh. Will you make me the happiest Hobbit in the whole Shire and please marry me?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his silly proposal, “Yes, but try again without the references.”

“Oh, if that was an issue, I’m afraid you’ll hate what I engraved the ring with.” Wooyoung blushed. 

“You didn’t.” You buried your face in your hands, “Good Lord. I should have never introduced you to Tolkien. Yes, Jung Wooyoung. Of course I’ll marry you.” 

“Yeah?” He stood up quickly, opening the ring box to show you the most intricate, most you ring of all time, sure enough, engraved with “one ring to rule them all” on the inside of the band. 

“Yes, honey.” You pulled him in for a kiss before he could fit the ring onto your finger, “I never want anyone else.” 

“I’m the happiest man alive.” Wooyoung’s smile reached from ear to ear. 

“I’m incredibly happy, too.” You returned his smile, “But we are not having a Lord of the Rings themed wedding.”

“Right. Harry Potter themed.” Wooyoung nodded, like this was the only answer. 

“Hell fucking no.” You tickled him, “We can plan later, though. Right now I need to show you my secret cave.” 

“Ooh, is Gollum in there?” 

“Only if you’ve decided to call your dick ‘Gollum’, then I guess so, yes.”

“I prefer to think of it as more of a Smeagol.” Wooyoung took your hand dragging you to the bedroom. 

“Just please don’t try to do the voice.” You pleaded.

He didn't oblige. You were going to marry the fuck out of him anyway. 

Choi Jongho: You could always tell when Jongho was up to something, and this week, the week leading up to Christmas, was turning out to fall directly into that category. A mischievous glint sparkled in your boyfriend’s eye all week. The two of you had been dating for a few years now and you suspected he would propose at some point in the near future, but you honestly had no idea when. The man lived to keep you on your toes. 

He didn’t do it while the two of you celebrated Christmas with your family. 

He didn’t do it while the two of you celebrated Christmas with his family. 

He didn’t do it as the two of you opened your gifts to one another late at night on Christmas Day. 

No. Why would he? He just spent the entirety of both days tricking you into thinking he might do it. He had handed you a conspicuously sized square box wrapped in paper. Earrings. They were beautiful, of course. He knew your taste well. 

He had taken you on a scenic walk, kneeling down at the overlook, only to tie his shoe, laughing at your face, poorly disguised in shock, disappointment, then frustration, all in quick succession. 

He had asked to make a toast at your family’s Christmas dinner. Didn’t propose.

Your boyfriend might be a little evil. 

Christmas with him had always been somewhat like this, with him feeding you false leads about what gifts he was getting you, especially as it got closer to the actual holiday, only to have gotten you something better than what he was alluding to the whole time. On top of everything, of course he was an annoyingly good gift giver. 

It was December 27th and you were nearly at your wit’s end. The two of you were still off work and with everything temporarily back open between holidays, Jongho had planned something incredibly special for the two of you, much to your surprise. You honestly had no clue how he was so damn talented at hiding things from you. Maybe you just weren’t as observant as you thought you were. 

Dinner at a nice restaurant turned into a carriage ride around the park, ending with the two of you slow dancing in a gazebo to a song that he had written just for you. 

“I mean every word, you know.” Jongho whispered as the gravity of his lyrics rushed over you. For as often as he was impish and playful, he was at other times, equally as genuine, vulnerable, and honest with you. It nearly broke your heart every time he shared that side of himself with you. 

“Jongho…” You didn’t know what to say, “You mean so much to me, baby.” 

“And you to me.” He answered, leaning in to kiss your cheek. 

You waited with bated breath, thinking that this might be it, it might be time for him to finally pop the question, but instead, he simply carried on dancing with you. 

You felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes, throat constricting with your frustration. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” Jongho looked at you, concern evident on his face.

“Nothing.” You lied. “Sorry. Today has been wonderful, I just feel like I’m going crazy.” 

“Crazy?” He cocked his eyebrow at you. 

“Yes, Jongho.” The tears fell genuinely now, “It’s probably stupid, I don’t even know if it’s where we’re at, I thought I did, but now I’m confused and I feel stupid for ever thinking it-”

“Thinking, what, baby?” Jongho pushed the hair off of your forehead. 

“All week you’ve been doing little things that I keep misinterpreting as you being about to propose. It’s stupid. I’m probably just delusional.” You sobbed then, pulling away from him. 

“Oh, no, sweetheart.” Jongho pulled you back to his chest, “I’m so sorry. I was just being a problem to mess with you. I never should have gone this far. You’re not crazy, though. I promise.” Jongho kissed your forehead before kneeling in front of you, reaching into his jacket pocket, “I’ve had this for about three months now. It’s just a weird tradition in my group to propose on Christmas so I wanted to make our anniversary different from theirs. I’m so sorry, darling. I want nothing more than to call you my wife. I’ve known I wanted to marry you since our first date. I’ve worked to be the man you deserve every day since then and I never plan on stopping, though I don’t see myself as ever reaching that goal, because you deserve better than I can ever give you. But I never want to stop in my pursuit. If you’re not too terribly mad at me, will you please consider? Marry me, my love.” 

The tears streaming down your face took on a whole different meaning at his words, “I feel so silly.” You sobbed, “But yes. Yes, please, Jongho. I’d be so happy to.”

It took the loud clearing of a passer by’s throat to break the two of you out of your public makeout session, both of you agreeing that your activities should move back inside your apartment. 

The way he took you apart so devotedly, so lovingly, bringing you wave after wave of pleasure on his mouth, his hands, and his gorgeous cock that night made you more sure than ever of your decision to marry him. He kept you on your toes and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[sweetieviktor]

"it's the tradition", feat. viktor.

summary: it's christmas in runeterra and couples are sharing kisses under the mistletoe.

word count: 1.000. (yes! exactly 1k im happy with it :]

content warning: just fluff as always! :DD (written with s1 viktor in mind!!!

author notes: ITS 5AM AND IVE WRITTEN 2 FICS IN A DAY, maybe im going to die but fuck it we ball. love viktor and love xmas, i wish i could use sweaters but in brazil december is sooo hot but yeah, here it is a lil something for the holidays. hope u like it!! :)))

whenever some holiday approaches, piltover academy is adorned in it's colour by students. it's december and the halls are decorated with reds and greens all the way, bringing joy to those who look up and see the fairy lights blinking slowly to them. christmas is coming, and so is winter.

everyone is using their thickest coats, but there's still some people who are cold, even if they are holding hot drinks to warm up both their hands and their body, or if they are rubbing their arms, creating some friction that could maybe help it, or sharing kisses under the mistletoe meticulously placed on the tree near the entrance of the academy, which have all kind of things hanging on it. some letters addressed to santa, little brilliant baubles made in all type of materials you could think of, red bows and colorful lights, all made by it's students.

you wanted to spend your day like this, enjoying over your partner's warmth under the mistletoe. well, life isn't fair. he was already working and you needed to work too, but maybe you could bring him some sweet milk and cookies on your lunch break, right?

so once the clock hitted midday, you walked to the cafeteria, the same one you and viktor got out on your first date, and ordered enough cookies for both of you. the women on the other side of the counter packed them to you, putting the little bag on your right hand, while you carried the cup of sweet milk on the other. finally, you got out, hands full, hoping that you could bring him some of the christmas spirit when leaving those in the lab.

when you made it to the academy again, it was even more crowded than earlier, students going in and out, chatting and joking around, throwing snowballs at each other and playing in the snow. and again, the couples kissing under the mistletoe. and all you could think of was him. oh, how you missed his kisses. so you hurried up, the flashy holiday themed colors in the halls blending together in an indistinguishable blur.

once you reached his lab, you knocked on the door, anxiously waiting for an answer. you could feel how your heart thumped against your ribs, maybe it's the nervousness or just because you runned all the way to come here in time. “come in,” was all you could hear from inside.

you turned the door knob, pushing it so you could enter the lab. he was hunched over his desk, but once he looked past his shoulder, realizing you were the one who got in, his golden eyes immediately lighted up, just like the fairy lights, but shined even brighter when he seemed the baked goods you carried, then turning again to his work, “just wait a bit, i will finish this, ehh- hopefully soon.”

you came from behind him, leaving both the bag and the cup over his desk, “i know these are your favorites,” you put your hand on his shoulder, “and it's my break now, but soon i need to get back to work,” his hand stopped, no longer making calculations. he looked up at you, then at the papers in front of him, thinking if he should or not give in.

sighing, he let the pencil over the papers. you knew he would keep working if you didn't say it. “i guess i could give myself a break, then,” the corners of his mouth quirking up while he reached for the bag, opening it and letting the smell of the cookies bathe the place, bringing coziness alongside it. he shoved his hand on the bag, picking one up and biting onto it, humming softly when it melted on his tongue, then bringing the almost half cookie to your lips, only to put away and eat it himself.

he was laughing loudly, keeping a hand over his mouth, to prevent any crumbs from coming out. “you ain't fair,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. you knew he was just joking, but you wanted to eat too, “i brought those so we both could eat. together!”

“i know, i know!”, he said, getting the cup of sweet milk and taking a sip of it, “but it's fun to tease you. can't help it,” he shrugged, looking at your pouty expression turning into one of anger. picking another cookie, he proceeded to feed you first, your frown immediately disappearing. he was trying to not laugh again, but he couldn't contain it, as he did so, soon the frown came back to your face.

“stop making fun of me and let me eat, for jannas's sake,” you also couldn't keep your smile from growing, it was such a good atmosphere that, even if you were mad at him for stealing your cookie and laughing at you, you couldn't be mad for longer than thirty seconds.

you were laughing with him, happy with how your lunch was going, eating and talking, so busy with everything that you didn't see him fidgeting, looking for something inside his jacket pocket. once there was no more food nor milk, he cleaned his hands, bringing one over you both, holding something up. a mistletoe.

you scoffed, running your hand over your face, “really, viktor?”, you were astonished, he truly got one of those just he could have an excuse to kiss you?

“well, it's the tradition, isn't it?”, he grinned, placing his free hand on your waist, bringing you closer, “any person who's under the mistletoe must kiss, it's correct?”

“yes, absolutely correct,” you put both hands on each side of his face, kissing his lips softly, tasting the sugar on his mouth. “but you taste like milk and cookies,” you kissed him again, just to make sure you got it right, “maybe next year i will bring you more of these, so we could kiss under the mistletoe again.”

“oh, christmas may be my favorite holiday now.”

[xo-adeline]

"Together forever..."

⋆°• ☁︎ - Celebrating Christmas and his birthday

Feat. Michael Kaiser

AN: Happy Birthday, Michael Kaiser, and Merry Christmas!!<3

For Kaiser, December 25th was nothing special. To most people, was it Christmas, and even for him, his birthday? Of course, but growing up with his dad, the day meant nothing, another day of abuse and wishes that he believed would never come true. Well until this year, the first year he had celebrated Christmas with somebody else, somebody that he loved and cared about. All starting off with a late morning, even if you were up early there was no way Kaiser was getting up that early, even if it was 9 AM. Then heading downstairs to start on breakfast and gather around the tree, you, him, and the stray puppy you two adopted when you first moved in. The second you handed him a present after he had given you a couple himself he looked, shocked, before it melted down to a little bit of confusion. “..For me..? You didn’t have to get me anything, you know that right?” Even after many months of him saying how much he hated gifts, and didn’t want anything for Christmas you still made an effort to try and get something he would like, even if you gave no clues about any potential gifts. “Well yeah, but come on, it’s Christmas! And not to mention your birthday, I had to get you something…”

He only gave a small nod, as you helped your puppy get her gift before she ran off into another room with the new toy. 

His present however was a pretty flat gift, even as he looked it over the tag had just said “Michael” on it. You could only notice his confusion and come sit down by him “It’s from Santa, silly!” “Santa’s not real.” “Not with that attitude he’s not!” He rolled his eyes as he unwrapped the gift, now sitting in his hands was the Desperado - 180G Vinyl, signed. Kaiser could only look in disbelief at the vinyl in his hands, his favorite band, with his favorite song, signed. It must have been a Christmas miracle. That was before another gift was handed to him “...This one is from me..” He looked back up at you, placing the Vinyl on the cushion next to him before grabbing the envelope from your hands. Turning it over, he unfolded the flap and grabbed something out of it. 2 tickets. Cruise tickets. “You said when you were younger all you asked for was freedom… What better way to get that than traveling all over, being free from responsibilities, and free from the world, being able to stay in your own little space while you see everything you never got to see before, only downside is your stuck with me the whole time” You laughed a little as he tossed them to the side, standing up and hugging you.  “Liebling, I didn’t need anything… you’ve already given me everything I asked for.. I just need you..”

The puppy soon came back into the room, yipping about something, the toy long forgotten as the dog came and pressed their head to both yours and Kaiser’s legs.

This wouldn’t be a day either of you would be forgetting soon, your happy family finally teaching Kaiser that December 25th could be a good day, if you spent it with the right people.

[honeyedmiller]

Holidays With the Millers

a firefighter!joel miller x f!reader drabble

series masterlist

rating: explicit. 18+, minors do not interact.

warnings: fluff, a lil surprise, illusions to smut but none actually described.

word count: 1.9k

synopsis: your first of many holidays in the miller household is better than you could’ve ever expected.

a/n: happy holidays everyone 🤍

The holidays at the Miller household are… well, chaotically organized, to say the least. 

Turns out, Joel and Tommy put Sarah in charge years ago because they weren’t going to get in the way of a then-eleven-year-old who had a bright vision in mind but couldn’t execute it without the aid of her dad and uncle. 

Three years later, her curly hair bounces every which way as her bright green eyes scan the handiwork you’ve all done with a thorough inspection. 

You can’t help but want to laugh as you, Joel, Maria and Tommy all stand in a line—military style—as she looks between her checklist and the decorations that are hung up brilliantly. 

Once that familiar bright smile shines at all four of you, you know you’re in the clear. 

“Great job this year guys! Gotta give most credit to the ladies though,” Sarah snickers, and Tommy rolls his eyes while Joel barks a laugh. 

“Glad we passed the inspection, madam. Now get your keister upstairs and finish puttin’ your donations in the box I gave you,” Joel says, raising an eyebrow at Sarah. 

She salutes him with a giggle. “Sir, yes sir.” 

Joel had explained to you a couple of weeks back that the entirety of the fire stations in Austin got together and liked to do a toy drive for Christmas. It’s an annual thing, and all families of employees are welcomed to join in and volunteer. 

You went and bought a few toys and board games for the event, excited to hand them out. 

Joel looks down at his watch before looking back at everyone. “The event starts in an hour. We should get goin’ soon.” 

“You’ll be proud of me, brother. I brought my uniform with me.”

“You’re a grown ass man, Tommy. Knowing you I know Maria reminded you at least twice to not forget it.” 

Maria laughs and nudges Tommy in the ribs. “That’s exactly what happened.” 

You all laugh in unison as Tommy holds up his hands in surrender. “I got Dory brain. I don’t know what to tell y’all.” 

Joel rolls his eyes before looking at you with a smile, jerking his head toward the stairs. 

“C’mon pretty lady, let’s go finish gettin‘ ready.” 

“That’s not code for ‘let’s get a quickie in’ is it? Cus y’all really ain’t as slick as y’all think you are.” 

“Tommy!” All three of you say in unison, and your face heats before you shake your head. 

“Mind your business and focus on your own sex life, yeah?” Joel says before slapping him upside the back of his head, ushering you upstairs. You can hear Maria faintly scolding him and he just laughs before their voices drown out completely. 

“Jesus Christ, my brother is a pain in the ass,” Joel deadpans. 

You huff a laugh. “Better him than Andy and Cole. They’d say some even dumber shit and add fuel to the fire.” 

“Well,” Joel checks his watch again. “We do have an hour…” 

You give him an incredulous look. “Absolutely not, Miller. Hands to yourself.” 

He gives you a pouty look before it’s your turn to roll your eyes, heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready. 

-

You wish you would’ve taken Joel’s initial offer. You’re standing in the firehouse helping handing out the cookies you’ve made while subtly making eyes at your ridiculously handsome boyfriend in his uniform, joking with little kids while he gives out presents. 

You think back to when Joel drunkenly told you he wanted to have kids with you, and suddenly you don’t think the prospect is a little insane anymore. Of course, you want to have kids with him, but you’d at least like to be married first… and you’re only shy of half a year in a relationship with him. 

“I know that look. What are you thinking about?” Maria bumps you with her hip, and you flash her a smile. 

“How good Joel looks. How good he is with kids.” 

“Ah, the baby fever bug finally caught you huh?” 

“He’s actually the one who mentioned it. The night they went out. He came home drunk and said, and I quote, ‘we should have kids’.” 

Maria’s jaw drops as she looks between the two of you. “He didn’t.” 

“He did!” You laugh as you hand someone a cookie, smiling at the kid before looking back up to Maria. 

“Drunken words speak sober thoughts,” she says, shrugging as she wiggles her brows. 

“Right. And when’s that happening for you and Tommy?” 

“Please, that man needs to put a ring on this finger before I carry any of his children.” 

You toss your head back in a laugh. “Amen to that.” 

“Amen to what?” Joel asks, sliding up beside you. 

“Just girl talk. You all done handing out toys?” 

He eyes you and Maria suspiciously, but you toss a sweet smile his way and all seems to be forgotten. 

“Mhm. I actually came over here for a reason.” 

“And what would that be?” You quirk a brow as you put a hand on your hip. 

Joel pulls something from behind his back and hangs it over your heads. You look up to see mistletoe, and you can’t help but laugh at how adorably cheesy he is. 

“In front of all these people? You sure about that, cowboy?” You ask, putting a hand on his chest as he wraps his free hand around your waist, pulling your body flush to his. 

“You know by now I ain’t got a dang problem showin’ off my woman,” he says, inching his face closer to yours. 

His words make butterflies erupt in your stomach, and your face heats. He grins and leans in, pressing his lips to yours for a few seconds before pulling back. 

“I love you,” he says, pecking your lips twice more before moving back slightly. 

“I love you too.” 

And it hits you: for the first time in a long time, you get to spend a holiday season with your heart full of love with the most loving person. 

The lights shine a little brighter, the songs sound a little sweeter, and the Christmas magic has finally made its return back into your heart. 

-

Christmas came and went in a flash. As much as you love the holidays, it saddens you how fast they pass by. 

It was so nice to see Sarah so excited about opening her stocking and presents to see what you and Joel got her this year. She got some new makeup, clothes, and a vinyl player with some vinyls she’s been wanting. You also got her a certificate to get a manicure and pedicure done whenever she’d like to go. That sense of pure love poured into your heart when she gave you a tight hug and thanked you a bunch of times. 

You got Joel some new tools he’s been wanting, along with his favorite cologne and a few new clothing items. You also got him his absolute favorite coffee beans that he won’t allow himself to splurge on, so you decided to do it for him. 

The last gift was, in your opinion, a bit cliche, but Joel loved it. You’d bought some pretty red lacy lingerie with sparkles throughout the material and revealed yourself to him after doing your night routine in the bathroom. You gave him a much needed massage before he used his needy, skilled hands on you and gave you one hell of a blissful night as he unwrapped you like you truly are a present in itself. 

It’s New Year’s Eve now, and Tommy somehow convinces Joel to throw a party to ring in the new year. Everyone in your family is here along with a few of Joel and Tommy’s mutual friends, and you’re all chatting away while eating finger foods and sipping on drinks. 

Dick Clark’s New Year’s Eve special is playing on the flatscreen and there’s only fifteen minutes left until the clock strikes twelve. You’re chatting with your mom, Emily and Maria about Emily’s baby and how she’s doing before the conversation gets turned to Maria. 

“So how long have you and Tommy been together?” Emily asks her, sipping on her sparkling apple cider. 

“Two and a half years. Still doesn’t feel like it.” She laughs and looks over at him, her smile growing wider. 

“You think he’ll pop the question soon?” Your mom chimes in, and Maria shrugs. 

“I’m not sure, honestly. I mean, don’t get me wrong. That man has changed for the better within the past couple of years, but sometimes I have no clue what’s going on in his mind. When he thinks of something, he puts his whole heart into it and he’ll make it happen. We’ve talked about marriage before, but it’s not something that comes up too often.” 

“Maybe it’ll happen soon,” Emily says. You give her a look of confusion, but she doesn’t even meet your gaze. 

“I think I’ll probably know when it’s happening. I love that man with my whole heart but he’s terrible at keeping secrets.” 

You laugh as you glance at the countdown clock, noting that it’s only five minutes until twelve. 

Tommy comes up to Maria and wraps his arms around her shoulders, kissing her cheek as he whispers something in her ear. She nods and smiles at the three of you before standing up. 

“Ladies,” Tommy says with a smile, ushering Maria into the small sea of people. Josh finds Emily, and your mom goes to find your dad so you’re left to munch on the charcuterie board laid out in front of you. 

It isn’t until a minute before midnight that Joel comes up to you and wraps his arms around you as you stand in front him, giving your forehead a kiss as he smiles at you. You look around the room and notice Tommy and Maria are still missing. 

“Where’s Tommy and Maria?” You ask, putting a hand on Joel’s chest before your eyes scan the room once again. 

Joel smirks as he nods his head toward the backyard, and in the faint glow emitted by the Christmas lights outlines their silhouettes. Tommy’s on one knee holding something up as Maria’s hands cover her mouth, and it clicks for you. 

“Oh my god. Oh my god! You knew about this?!” 

You’re so giddy inside and you’re not even the one being proposed to. 

“Knew for a few months now,” he says with a deep chuckle. You look back over to them to see her nod her head yes before Tommy slips the ring on her finger. Your eyes well with tears as the indescribable happiness you feel for them courses through you. He leans in to kiss her passionately, and your eyes snap back to Joel. 

“Happy New Year!” Everyone shouts, startling you before you realize it’s finally twelve. 

“Happy New Year, darlin’,” Joel murmurs, tipping your chin so your lips can meet his. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, getting so lost in his gentle kiss as your mind reels. 

So much has changed for you this year. You feel like you’ve lived twenty lives all wrapped up in three hundred and sixty five days, and falling in love was the last thing you expected. 

You’ve learned so many lessons this year, finally opened up your heart, and have taken a leap of faith that resulted in you being caught by the love of your life.

You can’t wait to see what the future holds with you and Joel, because you know it’ll be one that is full of security and love. 

You smile against his lips as you brush your hand through his thick locks, looking into his beautiful brown eyes that felt like home. That are home. 

“Happy New Year, Joel.” 

taglist: @raspberrybesitos ; @nostalxgic ; @endlessthxxghts ; @punkshort ; @clawdee

@pascalpvnk ; @bensonispunk ; @merz-8 ; @darkblue-tennesseee ; @typewriter83

@lizzie-cakes ; @sawymredfox ; @keylimebeag ; @nandan11 ; @pedropascalsbbg

@pimosworld ; @yxtkiwiyxt ; @anoverwhelmingdin ; @kikaaauu ; @buckyispunk

@untamedheart81 ; @picketniffler ; @fluffygoffpanda ; @paleidiot ; @survivingandenduring

@party-hearses ; @pedrospatch ; @harriedandharassed ; @brittmb115 ; @sunnytuliptime

@frodofreakingbaggins ; @aceaubrianna ; @tangled-tumbler-blog-blog ; @bunniboo0015 ; @aerihina

@pedritospunk ; @ro-nahime-things ; @ananonymousaffair ; @just-mj-or-not ; @melsunshine

if you'd like to be added / removed from the taglist, please let me know!

-

divider by @saradika-graphics

[witchywithwhiskey]

first christmas with trucker ari levinson

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: you ask ari if you can hang up some christmas decorations in his truck cab, and after his initial refusal, he starts to come around to the idea—and has some fun making you beg for it.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, slightly dry/painful sex, creampie, cock warming, bondage, choking, breathplay, dirty talk, degradation, some praise, daddy/dad kink, begging, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kiddo), some aftercare, a mean hot man

word count: 2.0k

a/n: based on this ask from @veltana: Are trucker Ari's and trucker Jake's readers gonna decorate the rigs for the holidays? since Ari's canonically jewish, i wanted to work that in while still showing what he's willing to do for his girl. (also apologies if there's any tense switching in this one, i'm not used to writing in present tense 😬)

trucker king masterlist & dirty filthy truckers universe masterlist

Trucker Ari Levinson isn’t the type of man to decorate for the holidays. By the time Thanksgiving rolls around, you’re well aware of this fact about your trucker, but you think it would be nice to put up some decorations in the rig, just to make it feel a little bit festive.

When you broach the subject, the two of you have just set off on a six-week stint of driving, which means you’ll be on the road through the new year. Already, the vast, snow-covered plains of the midwest have you feeling melancholy, so you’re really hoping Ari says yes to some Christmas cheer.

However, your trucker shuts you down with a curt, grunted, “I’m Jewish.”

You try not to show your disappointment, but you haven’t quite gotten used to the way you can never hide anything from your deceptively observant trucker. So while you think you do a good job of playing it off like you don’t care that Ari doesn’t seem willing to let you decorate, he knows he’s struck a chord—and it doesn’t sit well with him.

At the next rest stop, Ari’s grabbing snacks while you’re in the bathroom and he catches sight of a small display of Christmas decorations. They’re all cheap and plastic and poor quality, but before he can stop himself, he’s swiping one of the bright red Santa hats and adding it to his haul.

Ari shakes his head to himself, wondering what his mother would think of him if she could see him buying a Santa hat when he hasn’t worn a yarmulke or stepped foot in a synagogue in over a decade. But then he pushes the thoughts aside, reminding himself that his mother was gone, she’d left him, and she had no fucking right to judge what he was doing.

You’re settled in the rig by the time he gets back, an e-reader in your lap, and already engrossed in some smutty Christmas romance when Ari hauls himself into the driver’s seat. You don’t look up until a bag of Christmas candy lands in your lap, and you’re so taken aback, you glance at your trucker in surprise.

It’s then that you see the Santa hat pulled down over Ari’s slightly greasy brown hair. In his dirty red flannel, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Ari looked like the hottest, filthiest Santa you’ve ever seen, and your core quivers with eagerness as you suck in an excited breath.

Ari’s staring at your mouth, his eyes dipping lower to the way your tits are trembling as your breathing speeds up. You’re wearing nothing but one of his flannel shirts, the buttons undone an almost indecent amount, and nothing underneath. (You’d worn leggings into the rest stop bathroom, but taken them off as soon as you got back in the truck—Ari doesn’t like you wearing too many clothes and, truthfully, you don’t either.)

“Why don’t you come sit on Santa’s lap, kiddo,” Ari rumbles, his voice low and smooth—the charming tone of the man who’d coaxed you into his truck that first day. His hand pats his thigh enticingly as he spreads his legs, the fingers of his other hand deftly undoing the button and fly of his jeans. “Tell daddy what you want for Christmas this year.”

Your pussy is already wet with desire, so you toss your e-reader onto the bunk in the back and quickly navigate the space between your seats so you can throw a leg over Ari’s thighs and slide into his lap. Your ass lands on his legs, your pussy already slick enough that you whimper with the need to be filled.

“Beg for this cock, sweetheart,” Ari rumbles, stroking his thick length, his knuckles brushing against your damp slit and making your hips buck forward, seeking more friction. “Beg me to use your cunny like my own personal cock sleeve.”

“Please, use my pussy, daddy,” you beg breathlessly, fingers twining around the hair at the nape of Ari’s neck, careful not to knock the Santa hat off his head. “Use me to keep your cock warm, please—I want nothing more than to be your perfect little cock slave.”

“Good cock whore,” Ari purrs, one of his big hands grabbing your ass and urging you to lift up. Then he was notching the head of his dick at your tight little hole and helping you sink down on him.

A lewd moan slips from your lips as you take Ari’s cock. Your pussy isn’t quite wet enough to take his thick girth, but you don’t care. You’d take Ari dry if that’s what he wanted, and you both know it. 

There’s a delicious sting as your pussy protests the thick intrusion but you push past it, forcing your hips down until your ass meets Ari’s strong thighs. You sigh with contentment, swaying a little in Ari’s lap, your eyes half-lidded as you stare into your trucker’s ungodly handsome face. 

For some reason, the Santa hat is really doing it for you, making Ari even hotter than normal and you think, dazedly, you might have a Santa kink—so long as Santa is your dirty, filthy trucker.

“Feels s’good, daddy,” you slur, pleasure making your tongue feel thick and clumsy in your mouth. 

Ari chuckles and gives your hip an affectionate pat before he removes his hands from your body and starts up the truck, the engine growling to life. 

He’s pulled his rig back onto the snowy midwestern roads before he reminds you about why you’re on his lap in the first place.

“I wanna decorate the cab for Christmas,” you murmur, laying your head against Ari’s shoulder and enjoying the feeling of the truck rumbling beneath you, the warmth of the rig surrounding you.

Your eyes slide closed and you relax against Ari’s chest, letting the soothing vibrations and the perfect feeling of being filled by his cock lull you. Your whispered plea is spoken into the hollow of Ari’s throat, right above where the star of David he always wears is nestled beneath his t-shirt. 

“Please, dad.”

You feel your trucker’s cock twitch inside you, and a second later he lets out a tortured groan. It joins the soft moan you bury in the shoulder of his flannel shirt, your hips rocking lazily on Ari’s lap. Your juices are soaking his cock already, dripping down to his balls, and his cock is throbbing inside you, both of you equally turned on by what you’d called him. 

“Fine,” he grits out through clenched teeth, though you know he’s not angry, just trying to hold back from coming inside you so soon. He always reacts that way when you call him ‘dad’ instead of ‘daddy’. “You can have one string of lights, baby, but I’m going to test ‘em out before we hang ‘em up.”

Sucking in a sharp breath of surprise, you lean back and look up at Ari to make sure he’s serious. You find his jaw clenched tight and ticking, but when his eyes meet yours, there’s a sparkle of something like affection in them. Before you can be sure, though, he looks back to the dark road. 

“Thank you, Ari, thank you,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing kisses to his scruffy cheeks and burying your face in his thick beard to nuzzle his jaw. Happily, you lick and kiss down his neck, sucking on the spot at the base of his throat that makes his cock throb inside you. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” he grumbles, one of his hands falling to the small of your back and urging you to settle. “Now be a good cock whore and sit still while you keep me warm, we’ve got another couple hours of driving before you can properly thank me.” 

“Yes, sir, daddy,” you purr sweetly in Ari’s ear as you settle down on his lap. You lay your head on his shoulder and press your mouth to his neck, licking and sucking on his skin idly while you do your best to stay still and let him drive in peace. 

When Ari finally pulls off for the night, you’re practically vibrating with a need to show him how happy he’s made you and as soon as he puts the rig in park, you’re riding his cock hard and fast. 

Your hands are planted on his bare chest—since you made him strip out of his flannel shirt and t-shirt—and you lift your ass up before slamming it down hard, the tip of his cock pushing against your cervix with every thrust and making your cunt squeeze the life from his hard length.

Once he’s let you take control for long enough, Ari’s hand wraps around the front of your throat and he pins you back against the steering wheel, not caring that the horn blares while he fucks up into you ruthlessly. 

All you can do is watch your trucker king, wearing a cheap rest stop Santa hat, fuck the hell out of you while your tits bounce and your mouth falls open in a moan.

Ari comes with a rough shout, yanking you down hard on his cock and making you grind your pussy on him, rubbing your clit against the coarse hair at the base. His hand squeezes your throat, choking you just hard enough to make your pussy spasm, and then you’re coming too, your scream of pleasure stifled by his grip on your neck.

After, Ari helps you into the bunk and tucks you into his big body beneath the blanket. He falls asleep wearing that Santa hat and some boxer briefs, while you’re naked in his arms. With your back to his chest, you can’t see the faint smile that curves his mouth as he drifts off.

When Ari finally buys you that string of lights he promised, you learn that the ‘test’ he wanted to do before you strung them up was to tie you up in them. He winds the cord around your calves, then your thighs, binding your legs together before he plugs them in to make sure they’re all working. 

Ari takes a long moment to look at you like that, naked on the bunk in the back of his rig, save for the thick socks keeping your feet toasty, and the warm, golden lights of the Christmas decoration he bought for you. 

It makes him want to buy you more, to see how you’d look laid out beneath a fully decked out Christmas tree while he fucked your pussy, or how you’d feel curled up in a blanket covered in reindeer while he held you on his lap, his cock buried in your ass. He wants to see you wearing a Santa hat that matched his own, sucking his cock on Christmas morning while he made you coffee.

Ari reminds himself that the two of you are spending Christmas in his rig that year, driving around the country until well into January. But he saves those ideas for another time, tucking them into a box in a corner deep in his mind reserved for all the softer, more domestic plans he has for you—the ones you’ve started to inspire in him despite the fact that he’s never thought of himself as a man with soft or domestic side. 

To distract himself, Ari digs out the Santa hat he bought at that rest stop and puts it on your head, pulling it down over your ears and giving you a satisfied little grin. Then he folds your body in half, pushing your bound legs up to your chest and off to the side so he can watch your face contort in pleasure while he sinks his cock into you.

The string of lights are digging into your skin a little painfully and you’re bent in an almost uncomfortable position, but you can’t help but enjoy it when Ari plunges into your cunt and sets a fast, merciless pace. 

You’d never expected a conversation about Christmas decorations to end up with you tied up in a string of lights, but then, nothing about your trucker was ever what you expected—and that was part of why you loved him so much. You couldn’t wait to spend that Christmas and many more with your trucker king, Ari Levinson.

trucker king masterlist & dirty filthy truckers universe masterlist

[littleslaywrites]

joy to the world | spencer reid x bau!reader

summary: you surprise spencer with big news on christmas morning

word count: 1.1k

cw: fluff, pregnancy, mentions of birth control, JJ heavily featured (no jeid mentions)

The presents had all been opened, and you were sitting on the couch with Spencer in front of the fireplace. Crackles from the fire mixed with the sound of the radio playing Christmas music. You were dipping cookies you’d made the night before in a shared glass of milk. His arm is wrapped around your waist and your head is on his shoulder. 

You'd been anxious all day, waiting for the right time to give him his last gift. You knew he’d be excited, but you also knew it’d change your whole lives. 

It had been just over a week since you’d found out you were pregnant. JJ was the first to know, being the one who suggested it as a possibility. You’d been nauseous for a week, hardly having the appetite for anything. Any strong smell made it worse. JJ has suspected something was up, but what made her voice it to you was when you mentioned your period was late. It was a passing comment, but she pulled you aside, mid-case, insisting that you take a test. 

“Could you be pregnant?” she asked, whispering as to not alert the others in the local police office you were set up in. 

“I mean, I guess,” you said, trying to remember if you had missed a pill recently. You realized that, with your frequent time zone changes, you had probably mixed up times at some point. “Oh god, yeah, I could be.”

“What are you thinking?” JJ asked, sensing your nervousness. 

You had talked about having kids with Spencer, so you were sure he’d be excited, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. 

“I’m thinking a lot of things,” you respond. She grabs one of your hands, subtle enough to not draw attention. 

“We can find a drugstore tonight and get a test for you,” she says as the two of you are called back into the conference room. 

That night, you two gathered in your hotel room. The test sits face down on the bathroom counter, phone timer counting down. When the alarm goes off, you don’t move from where you’re sitting side-by-side on the floor. 

“Turn it over,” you tell JJ.

“Me?” she says. The two of you go back and forth on who has to turn it over, giggling like school girls. Your play argument ends with the decision that you’ll flip it together. 

“What do you want it to say?” she asks when both of you are standing in front of the test. 

“I think…” you hesitate for a second, considering the two possibilities. “I think I want it to be positive.”

You imagine your life with Spencer as a family, creating a new human that’s half him, half you. 

The two of you count down from 3, flipping it over, revealing the tiny words. 

Pregnant

“Oh my god,” you say, glancing over at JJ.

“Oh my god!” she says, grabbing you by the arms. “You’re going to be a mom!” She’s jumping up and down, almost more excited than you are. You’re standing there in shock as she pulls you into a bear hug.

Pulling back, she asks “How are you going to tell Spencer?”

That’s how you two came up with the idea to tell him on Christmas. JJ knew just as well as you did that Spencer would be overjoyed. You could hardly keep the secret from him, wanting to tell everyone you knew. Penelope knew something was up, catching onto the looks JJ gave you. It was torture not being able to tell her, wanting Spencer to find out before the rest of your team. It was almost impossible to have any secrets in an office full of profilers. 

“I’ve got something else for you,” you say as Spencer is cuddling you with the cookie tin on top of his legs. 

“What is it?” he says. 

You stand up, getting the small gift bag you had hidden inside your closet. “So, you know how you like to journal?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I got you one that you’ll be needing soon.”

You hand him the gift, sitting back down as your heart pounds inside your chest. 

He opens it, revealing a small book that says “First Time Dad’s Journal” on the front. 

You try to read Spencer’s eyes, shuffling through a range of emotions. “Are you…” he trails off, meeting your eyes. 

“Yeah,” you say smiling. He grabs your hands in disbelief. 

“Are you serious?” he says, borderline giddy.

“Completely serious.”

He pulls you close, holding you tight. When he pulls away, you see light tears brimming in his eyes. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He lightly kisses you, smiles breaking across both your faces. 

“Who knows?” he asks, keeping your hands locked inside his. 

“Just JJ. She was there when I found out, but I wanted you to know before everyone else.”

Spencer can’t stop smiling. His eyes are studying you, seeing you in a whole new way. “When will we tell them?”

“I guess we have to tell Hotch pretty soon. Once we tell Penelope, I’m sure everyone else will find out.” You both giggle, imagining how she’ll react. 

The moment settles, both of you slipping into the quiet of the evening. You find a place again at his side, him holding you even closer than before. 

“I want to be a good dad for you,” he says quietly, “for you both.”

“I know you will.” There’s no doubt in your mind. You’ve seen him with kids before. “You being worried shows that you care.”

He hums, hand finding your stomach. “I just don’t want to be like my father,” he says, almost whispering. 

“You won’t. You’re already nothing like him.” One of your hands goes to his hair, playing with it. You wish there was a way to make him know how perfect he’ll be as a father. He’ll know when the baby gets here, you think. 

Silence overtakes you, the both of you imagining your new future. You’d always planned on having children, but it felt more real than ever before. You can almost picture another set of legs running around the apartment. 

Your phone rings, breaking through the quiet. You answer it, Hotch on the other end apologizing for interrupting your holiday to inform you that you have a case. 

Getting ready to go, Spencer stops you in front of the bathroom mirror by hugging you from behind. 

“Please don’t get all overprotective,” you say.

“You know I can’t promise that.”

Spencer pulls you into one last kiss before you head to the office.

author's note: merry christmas to all of you that celebrate!

[sonicboomrevisited]

A Sonic Boom Revisited Short Story:

"I'll Be Home for Christmas"

Written by @mama-qwerty with editing and inspiration from @multiisketch

Art by @multiisketch

NOTE: This story is NON-CANON to the SBR comic itself and is purely for holiday fun! Please Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twas the morning before Christmas and all through the lair, not a creature was stirring, not even–

"An eclair!" Cubot said, in an enthusiastic mood.

Orbot protested. "An elcair's not a creature, it's food!"

"Exactly!” said Cubot, hands on his hips. “That's why it ain't stirrin!"

Orbot scoffed. “Oh enough with your quips.”

The stockings were hung by the exhaust port with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be–

"Married!" Cubot shouted, sounding quite proud.

"Santa’s already married, for crying out loud.” Orbot sighed and shook his head in frustration. “Can you please be quiet and allow the narration?”

Quite. Anyway... the robots were nestled and charging in stations, while visions of sugar plums danc’d in their processing units.

"Hey," Cubot said, the word dragging out long. “Those words don’t rhyme, you’re doing it wrong!"

Rhyming is hard, and not something that’s forced. So you’ll deal with my attempts, for better or worst.

The robots went silent, exchanging a look. It always seemed easy when reading the book. They returned to the tinsel hanging duties assigned, when in walked the dastardly Robo-Sonic, his boss close behind.

"I just don't understand, truly at all, why those rodents won’t fight!" said Dr. Eggman, standing tall.

“Because they’re losers who know they won’t win,” Robo-Sonic said, his voice confident, and edged with a grin. “Seriously, Boss, it’s the smartest thing they’ve done. Why would they fight when they know that we’ve won?”

“It’s the principle!” Eggman shouted, his hands clenched in fists. “If they won’t fight, then I won’t . . . won’t . . .”

He threw his hands up. “Ya know what? I’m not doing this rhyming thing. Nope.”

But–

“NO.” Eggman crossed his arms, his lips pulled into a tight line.

How are we gonna tell a Christmas story without that well known rhyming couplet setup?

“Much better, because we won’t be locked into short little oddly worded sentences for the sake of rhyming.”

Ouch.

“Go on,” Eggman said, giving his hand a dismissive flick. “Just let it flow naturally.”

Fine.

“Oh come now, don’t pout.”

I’m not pouting.

“Then go ‘not pout’ somewhere else so we can get on with things.”

“Geez, Boss,” Cubot said, shaking his head. “That’s not very Christmas-y.”

“Quiet down, you imbecile, or I’ll remove your head.”

“That rhymed,” Orbot said with a shrug. “Although you technically rhymed ‘head’ with ‘head’.”

“Nevermind!” Eggman said, moving to his console and flicking some switches. The monitor along the back wall flared to life and scenes from the village dominated the screen. “As I was saying, if those rodents won’t fight me, I won’t get a good workout for my various inventions.”

Robo-Sonic turned to him. “So?”

“So, fighting so-called heroes is the best way for villains to work the kinks out of their dastardly plans and evil robots. It’s the first thing they teach you in villain college.” He turned suddenly, his voice edged with defensive anger. “Which I totally graduated from, thank you very much.”

Robo-Sonic flicked his ocular LEDs toward the ceiling. “Okay, so why won’t they fight? Other than the obvious reason that they’ll lose, I mean.”

Eggman tapped a few places on his control panel and twisted a dial. “I don’t know. But we’ll find out soon enough.

The screen flickered and centered on Meh Burger where Amy, Tails, Knuckles, and Sticks sat at a table.

“Are we still going to your place for Christmas Eve, Amy?” Tails asked. He poked at his burger. “It may be a good way to take our minds off . . . you know.”

“The fact that Sonic’s been turned into a glorified Eggman bot who hates us and wants to pound us into the dirt?” Knuckles asked, his voice low and frustrated. The others looked at him, their expressions a combination of annoyed and hurt. “What? I’m just summing it up in case you forgot.”

“We didn’t.” Tails’ ears flicked backward, and he looked away.

Knuckles seemed to sense he’d really stepped in it, and turned his attention back to his half-eaten burger. He let out a sigh, his shoulders dropping. “Right. Right. Sorry.”

“I don’t know if I should bother this year. It won’t be the same without Sonic,” Amy said, pushing her burger away and resting her crossed arms on the table. “We always baked cookies together.” A little smile curled her lips. “When he wasn’t trying to eat the batter, that is.”

“We’d always make popcorn strands,” Knuckles said, shaking his head with a smile. “That was a lot of fun.”

“Yeah.” Tails pushed his burger away, fiddling with his gloves. “We would trim the tree together. The lights were always my favorite part, and every year we’d fight over who put the star on top.” His ears flicked back. “This year was his turn.”

Silence fell over the group. Sticks looked between the others.

“Well I say we don’t let this get us down!” she said, pounding her fists on the table. “I say we get together and have the best Christmas Eve ever! We’ll show that Eggman and his new little robot henchman that they can’t stifle our spirits!”

She turned directly toward the camera filming them and shook her fist.

“YA HEAR THAT, YOU BIG CLOD! WE AIN’T BENDING!”

In the lair, Eggman let out a little yelp before cutting the feed, the screen going black. “That badger’s pretty astute for someone who thinks her doorknobs are alien spies.”

“Who’s she calling a henchman?” Robo-Sonic said, hands clenching into fists.

Eggman absently rubbed his chin with a hand. “Quiet, you.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Eggman’s brow furrowed slightly as he paced back and forth before the console. “Hmm . . . so the rodents are feeling all sad because their little blue rat is now my number two. That sadness is preventing them from really bringing their A-game during battles with me.”

“Perhaps you could offer to return Robo-Sonic to them for Christmas Eve,” Orbot suggested, hovering closer. “That way they can feel more motivated to fight when next you appear.”

Eggman whirled on him. “Are you insane? You’re suggesting I simply give Robo-Sonic over to those insipid rodents? All because they miss him so much?”

Orbot flinched back, as Robo-Sonic looked on, shaking his head.

“Oh, I know!” Eggman said, holding a finger up. “Maybe I’ll be a gracious arch-nemesis and offer to let Robo-Sonic fraternise with them for Christmas Eve, just to refuel the hope of getting their friend back and reignite that fighting spirit, before dashing their misplaced hopes to bits during my next attack! Ho ho, that is brilliant!”

“Yes, sir, very clever,” Orbot said with a sigh.

“Hey now,” Robo-Sonic said, hands on hips. “Who says I want to go back and ‘fraternise’ with those losers?”

Eggman turned to him, brows furrowed. “You’ll go and you’ll play nice. Because while you’re there you’re going to collect any information you can on weaknesses–other than you, of course–or soft spots I can use to my advantage in future battles.”

Robo-Sonic threw his hands up in exasperation. “But I already know their weaknesses and soft spots! I can tell you that right now!”

Eggman held up a hand. “Upp upp upp! Everyone knows that Christmas is when people show their softer sides and reveal hidden thoughts and desires no one knows the rest of the year. It goes hand in hand with Christmas miracles, holiday spirit and putting differences aside to show that not everyone’s all bad and all that touchy feely stuff.”

The doctor went to his desk, yanked open a drawer, and fished around for a moment before pulling out a crumpled card. He scribbled something inside, stuffed it into an envelope, and stepped over to slap it onto Robo-Sonic’s hands.

“There you are,” he said, patting the robot on the top of his rocket booster. “Off you go. Spread holiday cheer with your ex-friends, and then come back here and dish on the gossip you learn.”

Robo-Sonic heaved the robot equivalent of a sigh, before turning and heading toward the door.

“OH WAIT!”

He turned back to see Eggman digging through another drawer, before pulling something out and rushing over to him. The doctor slapped a gift sticker right above Robo-Sonic’s visor and adjusted a Santa hat on top of his head.

“There!” Eggman said, stepping back and perching his hands on his hips. “Ooh, you look so festive!” He waved in a dismissive manner. “Okay, get outta here. Go be merry and trim the tinsel and ginger the bread or whatever it is you people do during the holidays. Shoo!”

With an electronic groan, Robo-Sonic turned and drudged away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Screams drew Amy from her book, and she hurried out of her house, hammer in hand. The chatter from her communicator indicated the others were on their way to investigate the trouble, too.

She hoped it wasn’t Eggman. While she never liked fighting Eggman in the past, at least it had been a little fun. Now it was painful. Seeing what the man had done to Sonic hurt her heart. And she couldn’t bring herself to hurt him, even if he was a robot now, and had no qualms on hurting them.

And, based on how lackluster the fights were when Eggman did attack, the others felt the same way.

As she neared the center of the village–seriously, everything always seemed to happen right in the middle of town–she found the chaos somewhat comforting. It was familiar and a good fight with the Lightning Bolt Society, or Barker, or even Shadow may help dissipate some of the anxiety that had twisted her stomach since Sonic changed.

When the fleeing villagers scattered, she skidded to a halt.

Sonic was standing in the middle of the town, arms crossed, and wearing a . . . Santa hat?

A quick flick of her eyes caught no sign of Eggman himself or any other attacking robots. Sonic–Robo-Sonic, she reminded herself–stood with his back to her, tapping his foot in that familiar impatient way that always made him look like he was waiting for a bus that was fifteen minutes late.

“Amy!”

Knuckles’ voice called out. Both she and Robo-Sonic turned to see him rushing over to her. He stopped a step in front of her, taking up a defensive stance, fists at the ready.

“Where’s Eggman?” the echidna asked, his brow furrowed and voice uncharacteristically serious. He didn’t like fighting Son–ROBO-Sonic any more than Amy did, and preferred to head straight for the doctor when attacks happened.

The quicker they took out the doc, the quicker he retreated and took the robot version of their friend with him.

“I don’t know,” she said, gripping her hammer tightly. “All I see is him.”

Tails and Sticks arrived soon after, each wearing similar expressions of confusion.

“This isn’t like Eggman,” Tails said, holding his wrench before him like a staff. “He doesn’t usually send robots without being there himself to gloat and claim early victories.”

“Finally,” Robo-Sonic said, rolling his head back in a familiar expression of exasperation. “You’re all here. Cripes, take a little longer, why don’tcha. It’s not like I can die of old age or anything.”

“What do you want?” Knuckles all but growled, baring his fangs. “It’s Christmas Eve. Can’t you take the holidays off from being a jerk?”

Robo-Sonic mostly ignored him and stalked forward. Knuckles threw an arm out, keeping Amy back. When the robot hedgehog stopped before them, he reached into his metal quills and pulled out an envelope. He thrust it forward, toward Amy, and Knuckles tensed.

Everything seemed to stop in that moment. Amy flicked her eyes from Robo-Sonic’s ocular visor, to the little gift sticker attached to his forehead, right below the brim of the Santa hat. Instead of a “To” and “From” note, it bore Eggman’s logo, as if he’d branded the robot before sending him to the village.

Her eyes then dropped to the envelope in his hand. When she made no move to reach for it, Robo-Sonic uttered what sounded like a sigh.

“Just take it, Ames.”

She flinched at the familiar nickname coming from a digital voice box. After a moment, she gently pushed Knuckles’ arm to the side, and plucked the envelope from Robo-Sonic’s hand. Keeping her eyes on the robotic hedgehog, she tore it open, before looking down as she pulled a battered card from the paper.

The front showed an image of Eggman dressed in a Santa suit, Cubot and Orbot beside him with little antlers on their heads. He had a large sack thrown over his shoulder. Above him read “Evil Season’s Greetings!”

She rolled her eyes.

Inside, she found a handwritten note, undoubtedly from Eggman himself.

"Dear Rodents, 

Since you insist on being frustratingly avoidant when fighting my newest bestie Robo-Sonic, I have deemed it acceptable to allow him to be returned to you for 24 hours. Make it count and bring your A-Game to the next fight! Happy Holidays! 

Love, Dr. Eggman."

Amy reread the note three times, before flicking her eyes back up to Robo-Sonic. He stood with his arms crossed and he, and Knuckles who also stood with his arms crossed, seemed to be having a glaring contest.

“So, wait,” she said, drawing their attention. “You’re here to spend Christmas Eve with us?”

Robo-Sonic heaved an electronic sigh. “Apparently.”

Amy exchanged a look with Tails.

“You don’t actually expect us to believe this, do you?” the fox said, hands on hips. “Like we’re supposed to just throw our arms open and pretend like everything’s normal?”

“I think he’s here to spy on us,” Sticks said, eyes narrowed and flicking back and forth. “He’s here to discover our deepest secrets, our hidden hopes and dreams!”

“Not my eggnog recipe!” Knuckles cried, hands to the side of his head.

“Knuckles, that’s just milk and eggs, mostly,” Amy said with a sigh.

He cast her a raised eyebrow. “Eggs?”

“Nevermind.”

“Look,” Robo-Sonic said, holding his hands up. “As stimulating as this conversation is, I don’t wanna be here any more than you want me here. But the boss said you get me for 24 hours and the clock’s ticking, so, whatever you wanna do with that time is on your head. If you want to just stand here and argue about it, be my guest.”

The group exchanged looks again. Amy gave him a tight little smile.

“‘Scuse us for a minute.”

She motioned for the others to follow her a few feet away, and lowered into a huddle.

“This is a trick,” Knuckles said, looking over his shoulder toward Robo-Sonic. “No way he’s not here for evil reasons.”

“I hate to admit it, but I agree,” Tails said, shaking his head. “Sonic’s not our friend anymore. As much as I want to believe he’s here because he wants to be, I think this is some kind of trap.”

“Of course it’s a trap!” Sticks said, gripping her boomerang tightly. “It’s obvious he’s here to steal our Christmas spirit, and maybe even all our decorations and presents and even our last can of Who Hash!”

Tails gave her a raised eyebrow. “Our what?”

“Nothin’.” Sticks narrowed her eyes, looking around suspiciously. “I’ve said too much.”

“Okay, look,” Amy said, drawing their attention. “I don’t think he’s here of his own free will either. But maybe we can use this to our advantage. If we do things we used to do with Sonic on past Christmases, maybe he’ll remember who he really is and come back to us!”

Tails shot a look over at Robo-Sonic, who was giving the evil eye . . . well, evil LED to any villagers who came too near. “I dunno, Amy . . .”

“C’mon Tails, we have to try.”

The others looked at her before exchanging a glance between themselves. Finally, they turned back and nodded. Although, they didn’t look very happy or sure about it.

She didn’t care. If there was a chance to get her . . . their Sonic back, she’d take it. As slim as it was.

She nodded back, before standing upright and moving toward the robot hedgehog once again. Knuckles was right next to her. She could feel how tense he was.

“Okay, Son–I mean, Robo-Sonic,” she said, stopping with her hands on her hips. “If you’re gonna be here, there are going to be a few rules.” She counted off on her fingers. “Rule number one, no fighting. Rule number two, no insulting us. Rule number three, you have to actually participate and not simply sit and sulk the whole time.”

His ocular LEDs narrowed for a moment. “And if I refuse these stupid rules?”

Amy shrugged. “Then we’ll just send you back to Eggman’s. You’ll have failed your mission and ruined Christmas for your new ‘boss’.”

He stood and glared at her for a long moment, before rolling his head to the side. “Fine.”

A smile curled her lips. “Good.” She clapped her hands together, giving a little squeal of excitement. “Oh, this will be fun!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was not, in fact, ‘fun’.

It had been hours. Hours of trying to have a normal Christmas Eve.

They’d all gathered at Amy’s house, as they did every year. She hadn’t been in a very festive mood after everything that had happened with Sonic, so the house wasn’t as decorated as she normally did. Knuckles and Sticks had helped pull her decorations out of storage, working to create a more appropriate holiday atmosphere, as Tails set about trimming the tree.

Supper was awkward. She’d made everyone’s favorite. Even the sweet potato chili dogs Sonic liked. But, being a robot now, he couldn’t eat them.

Okay, no problem, she could work around that.

But he spent the entire time glaring at Knuckles, who glared right back. Amy had shot the echidna a warning glance, and he’d sheepishly turned his eyes away, but the mood had been set.

After supper, she cleaned up the dishes as Tails helped Knuckles make popcorn for this year’s garlands. With a little coaxing, Amy had encouraged Knuckles to try and follow his tradition with Robo-Sonic.

It didn’t go well.

Robo-Sonic couldn’t string the popcorn before his metal fingers crushed the kernels. After five minutes, the floor around him was littered with broken bits of popcorn. Knuckles, for his part, tried to extend a hand of friendship, so to speak, citing that he knew what it was like to deal with more strength than you need most of the time. He tried to help Robo-Sonic pull it back so he could work with the popcorn without crushing it.

Things only went further south when Robo-Sonic revealed, in a fit of frustration stemming from the continued crunching of the kernels, that he never liked making the garlands–a waste of perfectly good popcorn, he claimed–and only did it so Knuckles wouldn’t look like an idiot doing it by himself.

The echidna gasped, eyes wide, before running from the room in tears. “Not cool, Robo-Sonic!”

Sticks fared a little better. She was always suspicious of wrapped presents–”You don’t know what’s inside! It’s not safe!”--so Robo-Sonic used his scanners to examine every one. He announced, loudly, what each box contained. This soothed the badger’s suspicions, until he announced what the gifts she’d brought held.

“Those boxes were supposed to be lead lined! X-ray proof! So’s the aliens couldn’t see what I got and report my preferences and kindness to their leaders, taking me hostage when they come to rule!”

And off she went, presumably to find whomever had sold her the supposedly impervious boxes, and deal some angry feral badger damage to them.

Tails was hit worst. He had brought the tree decorations, and hoped to have his and Sonic’s tradition at least somewhat salvaged. It started okay, but when it was time to put the lights up, Robo-Sonic took them from the fox and wrapped them around the tree in three seconds flat.

“Oh,” Tails said, ears flicking back. “We usually do that together.”

Robo-Sonic shrugged. “It’s not exactly a two-man job, kid. It’s done, now.”

“Right.” Tails reached across himself to tightly grip his arm. “G-good job.”

The fox quietly left soon after.

That left Amy.

She tried. She really did.

She pulled out the ingredients for the cookies she and Sonic baked every year. But there was no laughter as they mixed the ingredients together. No trying to keep him from dipping his fingers into the batter. No slapping his hands away as she tried to roll out the dough.

Robo-Sonic was focused and efficient. The cookies went in without issue.

“You’re really not him anymore, are you?” she asked, her voice soft.

He turned to her, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m better.”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. “No. No you’re not.”

Amy turned, hoping to be out of the house before the first tears fell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robo-Sonic watched her leave, just like all the others had left.

He didn’t care. The less he had to deal with these losers, the better. He was only here because Eggman practically ordered him to be. He wasn’t enjoying this. He didn’t care about these stupid traditions and little holiday scenes the others insisted on.

He should leave. They all left, so apparently they didn’t care if he was here or not. He should just go back to Eggman’s lair, tell him the mission was a failure because these rodents couldn’t accept that he wasn’t the weak loser they remembered. They’d have a good laugh at the overly sentimental nature of these fools and that would be that.

He took a few steps toward the door, intending to do just that.

Then he stopped.

Turned and watched the oven timer tick down.

Less than ten minutes before the cookies were done. There was no one else in the house. He had no idea when they’d be back.

If he left and they didn’t return for a long time after, the cookies would burn.

The house might burn.

If these losers wouldn’t give him a decent fight because they were ‘sad’ about his change (his improvement), then they certainly wouldn’t be up for any challenging battles should Amy’s house burn down on Christmas Eve.

He could wait ten minutes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is worse than when we thought he was gone,” Tails said, curling his namesakes around himself. He let out a long sigh. “This feels like a cruel joke.”

The group had met up near Sonic’s old shack. Knuckles stood with his back to the porch post, arms crossed. Tails sat on the front steps, staring out into the ocean as the waves licked the beach below. Sticks sat on the ground nearby, legs crossed beneath her, an angry pout on her face.

And Amy stood a little apart from them, staring into Sonic’s shack. The moon was full tonight, and lit the area enough to see.

The shack stood dark and empty, like it had since Sonic was changed.

“I’m sorry guys,” she said, her voice soft. “I thought . . . I thought if he was in a familiar place, if he was surrounded by his friends, doing things he loved, then he’d remember.”

“It was a nice try, Ames,” Knuckles said, rubbing a hand over his face. “But he’s not him anymore.”

She pulled her lips tight. “No. I guess he’s not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Popcorn was strewn all over the floor. Some were crunched from being stepped on, but most broken because of his metal fingers.

He looked down at his fingers now.

Sharp and cold. He couldn’t really feel anything now. Oh sure, there were pressure points on the outside plating, giving him the approximate sensation of ‘touch’. But he couldn’t feel.

The fingers curled into a fist.

Nevermind.

That wasn’t important. He was better. Stronger.

His LEDs flicked back down to the floor.

It wouldn’t be fair to leave Amy to clean up this mess, and he knew Knuckles likely wouldn’t help. Seemed a waste to throw out all that popcorn, though.

He checked his internal clock. Seven more minutes until the cookies were done.

He had time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He didn’t even try,” Amy said, moving to sit next to Tails. She pulled her legs up and hugged her knees. “He said he would try and he didn’t.”

“Actually,” Tails said, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand. “He said he wouldn’t fight, insult us, or sulk. That’s not really the same thing as trying.”

“But he promised he’d participate!” she said, and even to her own ears it sounded ridiculous. “He . . . he promised.”

“I guess he technically did participate,” Knuckles said with a shrug. “He was just being an irritable and impatient jerk about it.”

“On the bright side,” Sticks said, tilting her head to the side. “He did reveal a horrible injustice done to me by those shysters who sold me those boxes. I made sure they wouldn’t cheat anyone else like that!”

The others sighed, the mood not exactly feeling any lighter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robo-Sonic stood before the tree. The popcorn was all cleaned up, and now he stood with his arms crossed, staring at the wrapped presents strewn about, where Sticks had let them drop as he’d examined each one.

With a soft electronic sigh, he bent to gather them, stacking them neatly.

He picked up the final two, which were identically shaped, only with different wrapping. One was addressed to Tails, the other to him.

Well, to the weaker version of him, anyway.

He’d scanned them before, when Sticks had requested, and discovered they held matching scarves. Yellow for him, blue for Tails.

Probably hand crocheted by Amy herself. She liked to do that kind of thing.

He didn’t know why she bothered. That took a lot of time; it was easier to simply buy a scarf. They weren’t that expensive, really.

He stared at the boxes for a long moment, before placing them on the stack.

Glancing up, he flicked his LEDs over the tree at the lights he’d strung earlier.

They bothered him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I just . . .” Amy said, burying her face in her hands. “I hoped there was something left of him. Something that showed our Sonic was still in there.”

Silence answered her. It hung heavy before Tails gave a little sigh, reaching over to lay a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“I did too, Amy. I really did. He’s . . . he was my best friend. The idea that he’s gone is . . . well, it’s hard to accept.”

She nodded. “It’s so strange. He seems so much like the Sonic we remember, but . . . not.” She sighed, a harsh, frustrated sound. “I wish Eggman hadn’t sent him here. It’s making everything worse.”

Tails’ hand gripped her a little tighter. Knuckles moved to sit on her other side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“We could pay Eggman a visit and deck his halls, if that would make you feel better,” he said, a little smile curling one side of his mouth. “Want me to leave a knuckle sandwich in his stocking?”

Amy gave a soft giggle, shaking her head. “As tempting as that is, I don’t want to ruin anything any more than it already is. It’s bad enough that–” She gasped, her eyes going wide. “THE COOKIES! I completely forgot about them!”

She shot to her feet and ran toward her house with the others close behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh no oh no oh no!” Amy nearly whined as she burst into her kitchen. She expected a house full of black smoke, possibly even flames shooting from her oven, but she stopped dead when there was no oppressive heat of an uncontrolled fire, no choking smoke threatening to smother her. “What?”

The others screeched to a halt behind her, piling up and nearly knocking her over.

The scene that met them was one she would not have believed just fifteen minutes ago.

Robo-Sonic was pulling the cookie sheets from the oven. He turned and placed them on towels he’d set out to protect her counters, before looking up and finding himself with company.

“Well look who decided to finally show back up,” he said, flicking the oven off and turning to plant his hands on his hips. “Figures you guys would all take off and leave me to do all the clean up.”

Silence answered him as the others stared. Amy’s gaze fell to the cookies currently cooling on her counter. “You . . . you stayed to take them out?”

He shrugged. “Boss said I had to stay, so I stayed. I’m used to picking up the slack for you los–” He caught himself. He’d promised not to insult them. “You left. The cookies were done. I pulled ‘em out. The end.”

Amy stared. This . . . this wasn’t what she expected.

“Hey,” Knuckles said, pointing to the other counter. “What are those?”

All eyes turned to a plate stacked with popcorn balls. Robo-Sonic shrugged as he pulled them over to place on the center island counter behind the cooling cookies.

“Ames would have had a fit if I threw away perfectly good popcorn,” he said, stepping back to lean against the counter. “So I made those.”

“Huh, that’s weird.” Knuckles stepped forward to pick up one of the popcorn balls. “How did you get the string to do that?” He took a bite, his eyes lighting up. “Hey! That’s really good! And no string to get stuck in my teeth!”

Robo-Sonic shrugged again. “Amy always has a bag of marshmallows hidden away. Thinks I don’t know about it. She uses them to sweeten her coffee. Which I always thought was gross, but whatever. Figured I’d use ‘em to make something better than those stupid garlands.”

Amy blinked. Sonic would regularly raid her cabinets, so it wasn’t a surprise he knew about her secret mallow stash, but the way he was talking . . . the things he did while they were gone . . .

This was absolutely not what she expected.

“Hey, what happened to the tree?” Tails’ voice cut through her musings. They looked into the living room where the tree stood dark. “Where are the lights?”

“Took ‘em off.” Robo-Sonic’s voice sounded almost bored, like there was an implied shrug even if his shoulders didn’t move. “They were bugging me. Not strung right. Some spots had the same colored lights all bunched up. I’m not good with that kinda detail stuff.”

More silence, and Amy dared to hope. Dared to think that her Sonic, their Sonic, really was still in there.

“Do you . . .” Tails started, his voice small and shaky. “Do you want to try again? I can make sure the colors are adequately distributed this time.”

Robo-Sonic stood still for a moment, as though contemplating. Amy expected a sharp retort. An annoyed “Fine” or “Whatever”.

But instead, the robot offered a simple, “Sure.”

A little smile curled her lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just before midnight.

Wrapping paper was strewn about, tossed carelessly as the annual gift exchange had taken place. The gang sat on the floor before the tree–now properly trimmed and lit, thanks to Tails’ careful calculations of the optimal placement of the various colored lights–with the star perched atop. Robo-Sonic had placed it there, in keeping with his and Tails’ tradition.

Now soft snores floated over the living room. Sticks, Knuckles, and Tails were fast asleep, their gifts piled nearby, while Amy and Robo-Sonic sat a little further away, their backs against the couch.

Amy wanted to break the silence. Needed to break it. The longer they sat like that, the longer it went without at least trying to get through to him, the more she’d beat herself up over it later.

This was the perfect chance to try and bring him around. To try and reach the Sonic she knew was still in there.

After another moment of hesitation, she cleared her throat.

“I suppose I need to send a thank you note to Eggman,” she said, her voice soft. “For letting you come tonight.”

He didn’t respond for a moment. “You always were a stickler for manners.”

She swallowed, turning her head away slightly. The familiarity he spoke with. He knew her. As much as she tried to convince herself that he wasn’t any different from Metal Sonic, that he was just some robot who’d copied Sonic’s personality . . . she couldn’t fully believe that.

She spared another glance in his direction. The yellow scarf she’d crocheted him was fastened around his neck. When he and Tails had opened those gifts he’d hesitated before putting it on, but finally tied it in place, much to Tails’ delight. Sonic never looked right without that trademark scarf around his neck.

The color contrasted with the red Santa hat still perched on his head. Her eyes flicked back to that gift label above his visor. Eggman’s logo seemed to glare at her, a stark reminder that he was here on borrowed time. 

Another silent moment passed, and she turned away again. When she spoke, her voice was quieter. Hardly above a whisper.

“Stay.”

“No.”

The response was immediate. He didn’t even consider it.

“Why?” She turned back to him sharply, her tone pleading. “Why do you hate us so much?”

He turned his head away from her for a moment, before turning back. “Because you’re weak.”

“We’re stronger together.” She turned to him more fully and tried to pull back the pleading tone. “We were always stronger with you.”

“I can’t carry the whole team, Ames,” he said, his tone hard. “I can’t do what needs done if I’m worrying about the rest of you.”

“What are you talking about?” Amy said, and hated how pathetic her voice sounded even to her own ears. “Doing what needs done? What needs done is keeping Eggman from ruining everything, from destroying everything we love. We did that! And now you’re helping him. I just . . . I don’t understand.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead looking over where the others slept. Amy watched him for a few moments, before turning away when she decided he likely wasn’t going to answer.

“Sometimes protection isn’t just about bashing some bots and calling it a day,” he said, his voice softer. “Sometimes you have to make sacrifices to focus on the bigger picture.”

She stared at him, her brows furrowed. “What’s the bigger picture?”

He went quiet again, and this time it felt more final. Like whatever information she was going to get out of him had been said.

The two sat there in silence for a long time. Finally, Amy spoke, her voice a whisper.

“Merry Christmas, Sonic.”

He didn’t respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time ticked on. Robo-Sonic watched the others sleep. He didn’t need to sleep anymore, although he sometimes went into standby mode. Not a ‘sleep’ in the traditional sense, but something that let him kind of ‘drift’.

Beside him, Amy’s breathing evened out, changing to a deeper, slower rhythm. He turned and found her head tilted against the couch, eyes closed, and mouth slightly open.

He watched her for a long moment.

Moving before he even knew he was, Robo-Sonic stood and gently lifted her, placing her on the couch and positioning a pillow beneath her head. She stirred slightly, and he froze, before she settled back into a comfortable position, her breathing deepening.

Pulling the afghan from the back of the couch, he draped it over her, tucking her in.

“Merry Christmas, Ames.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning.

The sun filtered in through the windows, pulling Amy from her sleep. She sat up and stretched, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she got her bearings. It took a moment before the events of last night caught up with her, and she looked around, catching no sign of Robo-Sonic.

He must have gone back to Eggman’s.

With a sigh, she flipped the afghan back, preparing to head to the kitchen to start breakfast before the others woke. That’s when her eyes landed on a small stack of gifts on the coffee table, still unopened.

Her brow furrowed. That was odd. She could have sworn they’d opened all the presents last night.

Moving closer, she immediately recognized the sloppy, somewhat hurried wrapping style of one Sonic the Hedgehog.

She distinctly remembered helping Sonic pick out gifts months ago, in an attempt to keep him from being caught empty-handed come Christmas Eve. (Something that had happened on more than one occasion.) He must have wrapped them to have them done and ready back then.

But how . . .

Her eyes went wide.

Robo-Sonic must have gone back to Sonic’s shack and brought them here after she’d fallen asleep.

A little smile curled her lips. Her heart felt warmer than it had in months.

She had hope again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah, the blue rat bot returns!” Eggman said. He turned from the breakfast table, still dressed in his long underwear. “How went the whole ‘give your ex-friends false hope so they’ll fight me with more gusto’ plan?”

Robo-Sonic shrugged. “Fine.”

Eggman frowned. “Fine? That’s it? Just ‘fine’?”

Another shrug from the bot. “Yeah? Not sure what you want me to say.”

“Well, you could say that they spent the night bemoaning my successful plan to turn you into a robot; or that they tried to convince you to be some kind of double agent to get the goods on me in secret; or that they tried to appeal to your non-existent sense of loyalty to them in combination with the ‘spirit of Christmas’ to cast off your allegiance to me and rejoin them in their constant, infuriating destruction of every bot I painstakingly create!”

Robo-Sonic waved a hand. “Yeah, sure, okay.”

Eggman slammed his fists on the table, sending the silverware clattering. “Oh, you are just as infuriating now as you were when you were flesh and fur! I thought you were going to bring back some gossip or embarrassing tales of what happened!”

“What can I tell ya, Boss,” the robot said as he began to wander off. “Just a boring Christmas Eve. Same old, same old. Just like all the others.”

Eggman scowled. “Then what’s with the scarf?”

Robo-Sonic froze. The scarf. He’d forgotten he had it on. “What about it?”

The doctor smirked. “Seems a little sentimental, don’t you think? A lovingly hand knitted scarf from your little girlfriend.”

Robo-Sonic turned sharply, red LEDs narrowed. “She’s not my girlfriend, and it’s crocheted.”

Eggman scoffed. “My, my. Aren’t we touchy?”

The robot hedgehog uttered a little growl, before stalking toward the doctor. He yanked the scarf off his neck and slapped it on the table. “Whatever. I don’t need it.”

Eggman furrowed his brow. “Are you sure nothing happened back there?”

Robo-Sonic let out a soft scoff as he turned and walked away. “Nothing worth reporting.”

Eggman watched him go with a frown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robo-Sonic walked down a long hallway, the walls a polished steel here. He pushed the thoughts of last night away.

It was just a mission. He was sent there to spy. To gather intel. To give false hope so those losers would fight harder when he and Eggman attacked next.

Because if they fought harder, they got stronger. They needed to be stronger.

He only acted the way he did last night to foster that sense of hope. That he was still the Sonic they remembered.

That was the only reason.

His hand curled into a fist.

The only reason.

But that scarf . . .

A voice in the back of his mind whispered. Said things he knew weren’t true. Tried to make him soft. Make him weak.

He stopped and turned to face one of the walls. They were polished to a near mirror finish. He stared at his reflection. The gift label was still stuck to his forehead and that stupid Santa hat still perched on his metal quills.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

He almost saw the hedgehog he once was.

With a growl, he yanked the hat off and tossed it to the ground, before tearing the sticker from above his visor. It shredded, leaving behind sticky paper strips. Figures Eggman would have the cheapest, most residue-y stickers on hand.

Last night had been a mistake. He shouldn’t have gone.

Uttering a growl that bordered on a yell, Robo-Sonic drew his fist back and punched the wall, leaving a deep dent in the metal at the impact.

“No more weakness. You had your chance. You failed. Now it’s my turn.”

Robo-Sonic withdrew his hand from the crumpled metal, and continued along his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Eggman said after Robo-Sonic had walked away. He slumped against the table with his chin in his hand.

Don’t pout.

“I’m not pouting!”

Seems a good place to end things, doncha think?

Eggman let out a frustrated grunt. “You wanna do the thing, don’t you?”

Wouldn’t be a Christmas story without it.

A long sigh. “Fine.”

And with Eggman pouting from not getting his way, Happy Christmas to all and to all a good day.

“I’m not pouting!”

Hush.

Merry Christmas, Season’s Greetings, and Happy Holidays to all!

[ddodol]

action — s.es

series ⭑.ᐟ [ kinktober masterlist ] content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, rookie actor!eunseok, actress fem!reader, pet names, eunseok is shy?, oral (m.), eunseok head pusher agenda, dacryphilia, eunseok is also kinda mean. word count⭑.ᐟ 1.6k+

a/n; accidentally posted the draft earlier while i was on my phone </3 i thought it was gone for good adfdaks. anyway :3 merry christmas yall <3

eunseok was a fairly new actor, rising to fame for his unreal features and the innate ability to make a person’s heart go wild.

despite all of that, the proud song eunseok had but one weakness— intimate scenes.

you were casted as a lead actor alongside eunseok, a monumental achievement in your acting career that you don’t plan on taking for granted. you were slightly older than eunseok, more experienced. he was fully aware of that as well, ears turning bright red whenever he had to ask you for pointers whenever it came to scenes that required physical contact.

even after months of filming, eunseok couldn’t break out of his shy demeanor, whether it was with the staff or with you, his co-lead. though, he was professional enough to not let it affect the filming progress— until today, that is.

the director proposed for a break, having messed up one scene countless of times. feeling guilty, the rookie actor was bowing and apologizing to the staff for the delays he was starting to cause. he was lucky to be working with such an easygoing crew, otherwise he'd be getting reprimanded for his unprofessionalism.

nonetheless, eunseok tried his best in everything, and you knew that he'd come looking for you in a matter of minutes after looking over the scenes for tonight.

you met his eyes from afar, exchanging a knowing look. you had no idea how it happened, considering how you were only a few months his acting senior, but he always came to you for help. eunseok walked past the staff, long legs striding, approaching you with flushed cheeks.

how adorable, you thought.

”do you want to try it somewhere more private?” your simple question made him blush once more, making you giggle a little. he gave you a small nod, which you smiled at. “follow me.”

you led the way, the sound of his footsteps filling up the hallway as a reminder that he was just right behind you.

as soon as the door to your dressing room closed, eunseok grabbed your arm and pinned you against the door, taking you by surprise. he was even more breathtaking up close, taken aback by the sudden change in his demeanor.

you could hear him swallow audibly, lips parted open as he took a deep, shaky breath. “was that okay?” eunseok asked meekly, eyes turning glossy and his cheeks beginning to flush, a huge contrast to how he was acting seconds earlier. that was when it hit you— he was trying out a scene from the drama. you bit your bottom lip, fighting back a giggle.

you teasingly snaked your arms around him, testing his reaction. sure enough, he turned even redder, almost about to explode as his brain processed what was happening.

”is this okay, too?” you whispered, staring up at him. taking it a step further, you slowly ran your hands through his chest, feeling his breath hitch. you chuckled, amused by his reaction.

”you don’t seem to have any trouble with that,” you stared at him, trying to gauge his reaction. you noticed the way he was shifting around uncomfortably, now avoiding your gaze. you looked down instinctively, eyes going wide at the surprise he had for you.

”oh, wow.”

eunseok cleared his throat, shyly glancing at you. “fuck— i’m sorry, it’s been like that since earlier.”

you raised a brow, eyes flickering up and down. “you mean, you’ve been rock hard ever since our characters were talking about their break-up?” you asked, in disbelief.

”no, no, no!” he sighed, hanging his head out of embarrassment, bright red ears in full display. despite working together for a month, this was the first time you’ve seen him this vulnerable. “you’re a pretty crier,” eunseok mumbled.

oh, that explains a lot.

your couple scenes so far all included some dramatic dialogue, and that meant you were crying most of the time. eunseok always seemed so invested during those scenes, holding you more tenderly and speaking in a way that felt intimate— the exact vibe your director has been trying to fish out of him.

you held back a smile, hooking a finger under his chin to make him look at you. eunseok let out a shuddering breath, eyes fixated on the way your lips curved up. he didn’t care how stupid he looked right now, eunseok was sure that anyone would act the same way if you were doing the same thing to them.

he swallowed thickly, parted lips slowly closing in on yours. you pressed your palm on his mouth before he could kiss you, prompting him to look at you in confusion.

"never said you could have a taste," you mumbled, a small smirk forming on your lips. eunseok was feeling desperate— he did have a massive boner rubbing against your thigh after all.

"please." you chuckled at his desperation, watching him take your ring finger in between his teeth, nibbling on it gently. "i'll get my act together after this, i swear. i just want to see those pretty lips around my cock," eunseok groans, brows furrowing as his lips moved against your fingers, as if he was kissing them instead.

you sighed softly, eyes darting down at his erect length. you reached down to palm him through his pants, making eunseok moan sensitively. eunseok's cock throbbed against your hand, breath hitching in your throat as you felt a flood of warmth surging through your body.

you felt turned on from his soft sighs, intoxicated with the way his pretty face would twist whenever you focused on his tip. you bit your lip, "fuck it."

eunseok watched as you tied your hair up, freezing in surprise when you got on your knees without any hesitation. he swallowed thickly, eyes trained on every single movement you made. he murmured soft curses when you helped him free his erect length, cock standing tall and casting a shadow over your features.

it was your turn to swallow nervously, taking in every single curve and vein of his cock. eunseok's cock was pretty, the tip of his cock already red and leaking. you glanced at him, licking a small strip up his shaft to start.

eunseok shuddered in response, clenching his jaw as he tangled his hand through the messy hairdo you just did. he panted softly, almost willing you to take him in your mouth, desperate to know how you'd feel.

your face contorted, comfortably taking in his tip. eunseok's cock wasn't thick save for his tip, letting you relax your jaw as you took in more of his length. by the time you reached what you assumed was half of him, you could already feel his tip poking at the gummy part of the roof of your mouth, making you gag slightly.

his eyes visibly sparkled when he felt you gagging on his cock, tempted to act on his impulses. he let you bob your head shallowly, trying to get used to his length. eunseok discreetly flexed his hips forward whenever you'd move down on his cock, wanting to see you gagging on his cock, to see you crying as you take him in your warm mouth.

eunseok cupped your cheek with one hand, his other still tangled through your scalp. "i know you can take more," his deep voice rang in your ears, body tingling as you glanced up at him. eunseok's eyes were dark, panting softly as he stared down at you.

it was almost like you couldn't find the same bashful rookie actor you were just teasing a few moments ago— now you were at his mercy.

without warning, eunseok pushed your head down on his length, the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat. you gagged, closing your eyes shut as tears began to sting your eyes.

eunseok licked his lips, jerking his hips forward as he moved your head for you. he could tell you were overwhelmed, your whines vibrating against his throbbing length.

"fuck," he whispered, watching as a tear rolled down your cheek. your eyes fluttered open, brows furrowed as you stared up at him. eunseok could feel shivers down his spine, adoring the way you looked helpless with his cock filling your mouth.

eunseok could tell that you've surrendered to him, letting him move you as he pleased. his soft moans began to fill the empty room, thighs starting to tense up. he was close.

you let out small, broken moans of your own, gripping on his legs as he pushed you down on his cock, thrusting deep. you could feel your throat bruising, tears spilling from your eyes at the slight pain.

"baby, hold my hand if you don't want me to cum inside your pretty mouth." you stared up at him through your bleary vision, finding his cheeks fully flushed. you had no intentions of stopping him from what he wants, mostly because you were craving for it as well.

eunseok's breath hitched in his throat when he met your eyes, "fuck, fuck— what a good fucking girl." you felt shivers down your spine at his gruff praises.

his hips began to stutter, bucking into your face, balls slapping your chin with each movement. he let out a deep groan, head thrown back as he pressed your head down to the base of his cock. you gagged, unable to contain your coughs when you felt him shooting his cum in your throat.

you pulled away as soon as his grip on your head loosened, coughing violently. you wiped away traces of his cum on the edge on your mouth, as well as the mix of liquids that found its way through your nose.

eunseok panted, placing his hand against the door to support himself up, legs trembling miserably from his orgasm. his eyes flickered, reaching down to help clean your face.

once you were decent, eunseok helped you get up. he chuckled softly, holding your cheek. "you know, every time we get on scene and you cry— this is all i'd ever think about now."

you laughed weakly, voice still a bit hoarse. "guess that means i need to keep helping you out, then."

[zepskies]

Oh thank you so much, friend!! And Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I seem to be hearing that a lot on this story (that Omegaverse is typically not their vibe, but they're willing to dive into this one), and I'm honestly honored! 😂💜💜

I wrote this story back in September or so, but wanted to wait until December to release it because of the snowy mountain setting and the forced proximity vibes. I thought it would be really interesting with the Omegaverse world and the true mates aspect -- to see how long it takes before they "crack," so to speak. 😂😂

The Dean Sr. moment had me cracking up 😂 But honestly, I loved those small, personal moments they shared. The pacing is great too, getting bits and pieces at a time just makes me want more!

ahaha thank you!! I loved trying to figure out those small moments. 🥹 I feel like with these kinds of "snowed in" stories, it's all about the small moments and points of connection.

Side note: I loved the White Album conversation (I might have a slight Beatles obsession 😅). I’m dying to listen to that or Revolver with him now!!😭😭

Ooh yay!! A fellow Beatles fan! I absolutely love the Beatles -- Revolver is a great album! "Eleanor Rigby" is my favorite off that one. 🤍

This was such a well-written and atmospheric start. I can’t wait to dive into Part 2 soon! ❤️

Wow, thank you so very much!! I hope you enjoy the rest of the ride on Against the Wind. 💕

Against the Wind - Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: This is a canon ending-divergent AU, but still an Omegaverse story within the canon world. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, scenting, injuries, hints of angst, fluff and feels. 

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: In His Hands

Your body is mostly numb when he pulls you out of the snow.

You utter a sharp cry when something in your side twinges, waking up your entire body like a white-hot shiv. Your ankle begins to throb as well.

“Hold on. I’ve got you.”

You only half hear the voice, a deep, coarse rumble. His form is broad and dark and blurry, but his male scent is the only thing you register with perfect clarity. 

Alpha. 

A small treble of alarm runs through you. It’s an instinct you’ve had to learn, as an omega traveling alone in rural Montana. However, something else disrupts that anxiety.

It’s his scent. His scent is like the crackle and smoke of a warm hearth. 

Safe. Your body is heavy and stiff and doesn’t respond to your commands, and yet, you feel a measure of calm when he maneuvers you into his arms. It’s a baser instinct, rooted deep in your chest. He begins to carry you down the slope of the mountain, and your vision blurs white…

Like the flurry of snow falling heavy on his jacket.  

You wake up freezing and shivering in pain. A sensation of small sharp needles begins to travel all across your skin. Slowly, as you're able to blink, your view of the dark wood cabin clears and focuses. You realize that you’re bundled in blankets, and laying on a chaise in front of a large fireplace. Still, you’re too cold. A keening whimper escapes you as you try to burrow in.

Alpha. Your body instinctively recognizes his presence, as he’s suddenly there, hovering close above you with a divot between his brows and a frown marring his face, where thick stubble threatens to become a beard. Stern, dark brows are furrowed over his concerned eyes. His plush frown is framed by a stubborn-looking chin. Your gaze wearily travels over his handsome features, his short brown hair, the flickers of firelight that splash across the side of his face.

He places a warm, calloused hand on your forehead, and he mutters a curse. Your body trembles further with cold. You part your lips, but you can't yet force your voice to escape them.

Again, he quite literally takes the problem into his own hands. He peels away the thick blankets just to slide himself in behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel their tempered strength when they cage you in against him. You manage to turn your head and rest your cheek against his chest, covered by red plaid. Thank you...

Almost on reflex, you breathe in his scent deeply.  The earthiness of it calms you, warms you from the inside. Your shivering eventually calms and turns to purring in your chest. 

“What’s your name, Omega?” he asks. His voice is deep and gruff, and it threatens to make you shiver for a different reason as the timbre of it washes over you. 

It’s difficult, but you manage to speak, clearing past your parched throat to give him your name. He nods, as if rolling the sound of it back and forth across his mind.

“Was somebody out there with you?” he asks.

You shake your head, even though the thought elicits a painful twinge in your heart. 

“Who…” you try to speak again, even though it hurts a little. “Who are you?”

You feel him take a deep breath. He hesitates, like he’s reluctant to give it to you. 

“Dean,” he says. 

You roll the name around in your head, over and over. Dean, Dean, Dean…

You smile slightly. “Yeah, makes sense.”

“What?” he says. You hear the raised brow in his tone. 

“You sound like a Dean,” you say, perhaps a little delirious. 

Anyway, that’s when your eyes close on you again. You fall back into the warm lull of sleep, to the sound of a crackling fire, and a feeling that permeates throughout your body.

Safe.

Can’t fucking believe this, Dean thinks, as he holds you. Just when he thought his life was done throwing him curveballs.

He tips his head back against the sofa cushion with a tired exhale. It would just be his luck to find a stray omega wandering his stretch of Big Sky. Montana can be gnarly in the winter, but for the past couple of years, Dean has learned to survive here in this rental cabin for a couple of months at a time, when wandering an empty bunker gets to be too much. At least here the quiet’s peaceful, if still a little unnerving sometimes. 

He glances down at you. Now that you’re warm and sleeping again, he should find something to wrap your ankle and ice it down. It’s swollen, and he wants to take an inventory of your other injuries, so he can determine how to get you back down the mountain and through the woods, back to civilization.

The sooner he gets you medical attention and back to your life, the sooner he can get back to his—even though the thought of leaving you in anyone else’s hands almost stirs a growl in his throat.

And that last part unnerves him, makes him anxious. He begins to untangle himself from you, but his movements falter when your sweet scent filters through his nose again. Cinnamon apples, with a hint of something floral. 

Fuck me.

It’s almost too sweet to be true, but Dean does his best to ignore it…and what that alluring sweetness probably means. 

Dean leaves you in the morning to revisit the site where you fell. He digs through the snow and manages to find your backpack, filled with your clothes, supplies, and your phone and wallet. He returns just in time. 

The falling snow becomes even more intense, until it becomes a quiet roar outside. You watch the snowstorm through the impact windows in the kitchen, and you know what this means. You’re snowed in with a stranger—an alpha, no less. 

You also have a bum ankle, which he wrapped for you. Doesn’t feel broken, he’d said, but it could be fractured, or at the very least sprained. You also likely have a couple of cracked ribs. 

“What were you doing out there, anyway?” he asks, while pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “This ain’t exactly hiking season.”

While you drink some hot chocolate he made you with a bit of whiskey splashed in (for extra warmth), you explain.

“Well, I guess it wasn’t my best idea in hindsight,” you say with a weak chuckle. “I was trying to find my way back, and I…well, I was a bit lost.”

He raises his brows wryly, still sipping.

“And to make a great situation even better, I thought I heard a wolf howl nearby,” you say. “I know most of them would rather run from us than attack us, but you can’t be sure, you know? I had my rifle on me, so I was turning around, trying to pinpoint what direction it was in…and of course, my foot slipped on something.”

You fell down that hill. You think you even hit a tree on the way down, which would explain your ribs. Everything gets a bit swirly, cold, and dark in your memory after that. 

Dean shakes his head. “Gotta say, going out there alone wasn’t a great idea either, especially now. This time of year, there’s no telling when a blizzard like this is going to come through.”

He waves haphazardly toward the storm raging outside. Your gaze falls to the mug in your hands. You don’t really want to talk about your reasons for taking that risk, but maybe giving him a little honesty will get him off your back.

“My dad and I used to hike up here every year,” you confess. “A few months ago…I lost him. So I guess this was just something I needed to do.”

You blow on your hot chocolate before you take another sip. This time when you glance up, Dean’s judgy expression has evened out into something more sympathetic. He lowers his glass.

“Well, hate to break it to you, but there’s no cell service up here,” he says.

You give a humorless huff. “Believe me, I know.”

“Which means no one can come up here and get you,” he continues, “and even when this storm breaks, I can’t carry you all the way down the mountain back to civilization. Not with the snow as deep as it’s gonna get. Now…maybe I can go down by myself and bring help back with me.”

“But another storm could snow me in,” you realize, with growing apprehension at the thought.

Dean nods. “It’s either I take that chance, leave you by yourself. Or we wait for you to heal up.”

He leaves the choice up to you with a gesture of his hand, the one still wrapped around his glass. You weigh those options with a tilt of your head. On one hand, you don't want to impose on him longer than you had to, but on the other, you really don't want to be left alone in this cabin for God knows how long while he scales the mountain by himself, for your sake.

“I think it would be better if we go down together, right? It can be dangerous, even when the storm breaks,” you reply.

Dean nods slowly, like that was what he was going to suggest too. “All right. Well, until you’ve got two working legs, you’re stuck here with me.”

“I figured as much,” you say. Your head tilts as you consider him. He has a gruff exterior, but all his actions so far have been kind, and far more than you’d expect from a stranger. And an alpha at that. 

Not to say that all alpha's are assholes, but you've had far too many experiences with the stereotype: arrogant, entitled, and handsy. Can't forget handsy. 

“Thank you for saving me,” you say, meeting his gaze, “and for…well, being a decent guy.”

Dean’s lips twitch. He nearly chuckles. Instead, he sits back on his side of the couch. 

“Yeah, well, there’s a spare room in this place for you, one bathroom. The kitchen is stocked. I’m a half-decent cook, if I say so myself, but help yourself.”

He gets up from the couch without preamble, to go to his room, you assume. It leaves you feeling at a loss, like he’s trying to get away from you. You know you’re a guest in his space, so you try to respect the way he wants to be alone for a while. He definitely gives off loner vibes. 

You look around and find a collection of vinyl records, and smaller collection of books on a shelf next to the fireplace. You find Gulliver’s Travels, Dune, The Odyssey, The Wizard of Oz—books you didn’t think a guy like Dean would be into. 

You take up The Wizard of Oz, reclaim your spot on the chaise, and start reading.

That night, your dreams are plagued by the crunch of dead leaves, your father shouting at you to run, and to keep running.

The coarse roar of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short.  

You wake with a start, your body both cold and flush at the same time.

Dean is there once again. It confuses you at first, but then it all returns to you in a rush—the where and the why you’re here, once again with the alpha standing over you in concern. He grasps your shoulder and asks if you’re all right. Your breathing is too erratic for you to answer him, your eyes too wide, your body trembling.

Had you been making noise in your sleep? You blush in embarrassment at the thought. You also feel bad for waking him, and all those things get trapped in your throat.

Seeing that you’re most definitely not fine, he sits on the edge of the bed, squeezes your arm, and reminds you. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe here,” he tells you. His tone is deep and even, reassuring.

You meet his steady gaze and manage to nod, trying to catch your breath. 

“I’m okay,” you say, with a shaky nod. He gives you a measuring look, both a question and a confirmation. You give it to him with a firmer nod. “Thanks, I…I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He exhales through his nose, accepting. “‘S all right. Don’t worry about it.” 

You feel the loss of his touch when his hand eventually slip away from your shoulder. As soon as he came into your room, he’s gone. 

Dean leaves swiftly, trying to brush off how the scent of your fear had tugged sharply at his gut even in his sleep. It not only woke him up, but compelled him to kick his blankets off and get out of bed to go to you.  

You were having a nightmare, reliving your fall, if he had to guess. You came out of it pretty quick when he carefully grabbed your shoulder. Every instinct in his body told him to gather you into his arms and cover you with his own scent and protective embrace to calm you down. 

Through sheer willpower, he managed to ignore every single one of those instincts.  

Two days pass, in which you and Dean say very little to one another, besides when he asks you what you want to eat, and how you’re feeling. The alpha seems genuine, but guarded any time you ask him about him; anything that’ll give you a clue into who this guy is, and why he’s here. 

You try again to strike up some kind of conversation over dinner one night. 

“Do you live here year-round?” you ask, around a mouthful of burger that’s absolutely delicious. He wasn’t lying when he claimed to be a good cook. He even made the fries himself.

“No,” he replies. “No Netflix, no internet? Think I’d die of boredom. I just come up here to uh…take a beat, I guess.” 

You smile. “I don’t blame you. Sometimes you just need a break,” you say, even though your tone is heavier than you meant it to be. Your gaze, a bit distant in that moment, sharpens and focuses back on Dean. “Where are you from, then?”

“Kansas,” he offers.

“Oh really?” You brighten with that scrap of information. “My older sister lives in Topeka. She moved there for a job, initially, but then she met her guy. He’s some kind of day trader. Which is just code for sits on his ass playing Call of Duty while she busts hers.” 

Dean huffs, then crams more burger into his mouth. He hasn’t been giving you a lot to go on while you two have been talking. Unfortunately, you have the tendency to ramble and fill the silence before it becomes even more stifled. 

“She works at a bank. Smart, driven, always knows what she wants. Meanwhile, I’ve had about seven jobs in the last three years, none of which were even remotely related to my almost useless degree in Communications.”

“Yeah, doubt you need a degree in communicating,” Dean remarks, popping another fry into his mouth.

 You purse your lips at him, but the glint of teasing in his eyes makes you fight not to smile. 

“All right, smart guy. So, what about you?” you ask.

Predictably, the man’s walls firm back up. “What about me?”

“Well…why’re you up here alone? Do you have family?” you ask.

Dean quirks a half smile. “I’ve got a brother.”

“Okay. Younger, I’m guessing?”

He tilts his head at you, a bit amused at your guess. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I can’t imagine you with a brother who’s older than you.”

His lips twitch. “You callin’ me old, sweetheart?”

You begin to blush with embarrassment. But also, sweetheart?

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just mean like…”

Dean saves you with the return of his smile.

“Yeah, he’s younger,” he says. “But he’s the one with the quasi-wife and the apple pie life.” 

“Quasi-wife?”

“They’re mated. Just haven’t gotten around to the whole getting hitched thing,” he explains. “But they’re happy. Dean Jr.’s growing up fast, already running full speed into glass doors.”

His smile is genuine when he talks about his brother, just tinged with a bit of melancholy, you think. 

“Dean Jr.?” you ask in amusement. Dean Sr. laughs a little, and you enjoy the sound, the way it lightens up his face and pulls at the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, can’t say I wasn’t surprised myself to get that honor, but…hey, it works for the kid. He’s got my chin,” he remarks.

He digs into his pocket to show you a picture from his cell phone. Even though it doesn’t have service, you can still view the many pictures of the adorable infant in his camera roll, courtesy of Sam and his mate, Eileen. You coo at the chubby cheeks, the bright little eyes, and the swirled tuft of dark hair on his head.

“Where do they live?” you ask.

“Out west, a stone’s throw from the City of Angels.” Dean’s smile dims. “He just had to go back to California.”

“What’s wrong with California?” you ask.

“It’s full of pretentious douchebags, that’s what,” he says, his voice a dry whip. “Waxed up to the fucking eyeballs, smelling like Botox, Adderall, and sweaty desperation.”

You splutter laughing so bad that your diet coke escapes you in a spit take. It partially goes up into your nose, burning, stinging your eyes, but it’s made worse by the way Dean waves a hand up incredulously. You’ve just gotten half his sleeve wet.

He meets your gaze, and you can’t help but laugh even harder. 

“Wow,” he says. 

“God, I’m sorry,” you say, still giggling. You get up, hobble over to the kitchen counter, and rip off a paper towel to try and pat his arm dry. He takes it from you and helps you back into your seat.

“I got it, Spit Take. Just finish your food,” he says, if with a dancing gleam in his eyes.  

From then on, it becomes easier for you to pull the alpha into conversation. Besides reading, napping, and staring out the window while it snows, you don’t have much by way of entertainment. Not to mention the pain of trying to get around without crutches, as it also jostles your ribs. Dean often has to help you from one room to another, which of course, you get embarrassed by.

“I’m sorry!” you yelp, when he saves you from another crash landing in the hallway. You’re fresh out of a shower, and it had taken you twenty minutes just to figure out how to wash your hair on one leg, let alone dry yourself off and get your shirt and borrowed sweatpants on. The main problem in getting back to your room happened to be the pants themselves. Their length and bagginess made you slip.

At least Dean’s learned to ignore your apologies. He now holds you by the waist, having pulled you against his chest on reflex. With furrowed brows, he notices your pained hiss when you grab onto his arms for balance.

“You okay?” he asks with a note of alarm.

“Ribs,” you gasp. They’re throbbing sharply with his hold, especially after being rattled by the near fall.

He immediately adjusts his hold lower, holding your arm and hip to support you. His hands are strong, but gentle. The warmth and pressure of his touch rattles you more than almost falling into a heap. Cliché as it might be, your heart is beating faster, what seems like in and out of rhythm. A feeling you can’t name stirs and tugs at your lower belly when you hazard looking up into his eyes. They’re a nice shade of green, like a forest floor in the spring.

“You just go ass over tea kettle at any moment, huh?” he quips, his lips tugging upward. “Come on. Where were you headed?”

“To my room, wise guy,” you say wryly, even as your blush heats your face and neck. “But this is a great taxi service.”

He snorts. “Yeah, call it the Winchestermobile.”

“Winchester. That your last name? Like the rifle?” you ask, while he helps you carefully down the hall. He nods in confirmation.

“That’s interesting. You don’t meet many Winchesters,” you remark.

“Yeah, well, ain’t that many left,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, easing you down onto the edge of the bed. His hands go to his hips as he scrutinizes your form for further injury. “You good? I was about to get cracking on some lunch.”

You offer him a grateful smile. “Yeah, I’m good. What’s on the menu?”

“Nothing fancy. I’m thinking grilled cheese. Maybe some tomato soup, assuming I can find a can in the pantry,” he says.

“Honestly, that sounds awesome,” you say. “Haven’t had a grilled since…God, probably since I was a kid.”

At that, Dean smiles. “Well, I happen to make an awesome one. No less than three kinds of cheese.”

“If they’re as good as your burgers, then I don’t doubt it,” you reply. He seems pleased at that, and maybe a little bashful as his gaze falls away.

Cute, you think. Your smile grows.

“All right, well, stay tuned,” he says. He winks, tossing you a “gun for hand” gesture that makes you laugh. Dean wears a rugged exterior as easily as his winter jacket, but he’s also kind of a dork.

After lunch (delicious, as you predicted), you take the afternoon just to sort through Dean’s records and alphabetize them for him. You hunker down on the floor in front of the shelf, close to the record player. 

“I don’t need all that. I know where all my stuff is…more or less,” he says, with a lazy wave of the beer he has in hand. 

“Oh really?” you raise a brow. “Okay, let’s test that theory. Where’s Boston.” 

“Right next to the White Album, there on the left.”

Sure enough, you find Boston, as well as the White Album by the Beatles.  

“Oh my God, you actually have the White Album?” You open up the double-sided case in excitement to read the list of songs printed on the inside. “This thing is so expensive.” 

“Beatles fan, huh?” Dean says as he takes a seat on the couch. You turn your smile on him, and he stills in his seat.

“Uh, yeah. Who isn’t?” you say.

Dean shrugs with a smile of his own. “Put it on if you want.”

You bounce a little with excitement before you figure out how to turn on his record player. You put the vinyl album on Side B, moving the needle until you find “Blackbird.”

“Of course,” Dean says, slightly teasing. You turn to him with crunched brows.  

“What? ‘Blackbird’s’ a classic.”

“Eh. Everyone likes ‘Blackbird.’”

“That’s what a classic means,” you argue.

“More like a mainstream copout,” he says. You think it’s just to needle you, but you still purse your lips. 

“Fine, Mr. Music Snob. Then what’s your favorite?”

“On the White Album?”

“Any Beatles song.”

“‘Hey, Jude,’” he says, after a moment. There’s some kind of weight in his eyes, a note of melancholy. You don’t miss it, even though you don’t know why it’s there.

“Everyone likes ‘Hey, Jude,’” you quip, trying to lighten him. 

He smiles a little. “Yeah. Fair enough.”

Finally, the snowstorm breaks. Dean ventures outside and brings you back a long, sturdy stick to lean your weight on when you want to move around, though he claims he’s working on a better solution. Now that the snow has let up, he’ll be able to go out to the shed and do some work. 

Whatever that means, you think.

You watch him from the living room when he goes outside to chop some more firewood. 

He should really wear a hat. His brown hair is getting dusted white with snow flurries as he continues to swing down the ax. You notice the power in his tall frame, even covered by layers of his jacket, pants, and boots. You almost feel each chop of the wood resonate in your chest. 

Heat rises in your cheeks when he looks up, as if he senses he’s being watched. You bow your head and pretend to read your book.

His boots continue to crunch in the snow as he makes trips back and forth from the surrounding forest. Aside from the firewood, he brings back a few long, thinner logs that he takes to the shed. Soon you begin to hear the steady back-and-forth cutting of a saw. You wish you could go out there and take a look, but you can’t even get around the house that easily, let alone venture outside.

Your curiosity about this man knows no bounds, and you decide to use the walking stick he found for you in the meantime to get around without putting pressure on your injured ankle. You know it’s wrong, but you end up traversing the long, dark hallway, pushing open the door to the right, and venturing into Dean’s room. 

It smells like him, earthy and tinged with smoke. His scent is seeped into every part of it—the bed, the dresser and nightstands, the dark blue bedsheets, the desk and chair, and even the drapes. It makes you almost lightheaded at the pleasurable feeling of it washing over you.

A shudder suddenly runs down your spine and tugs at your core in arousal. With a sharp intake of breath, you have to shift on your feet, pressing your legs together against the slick already forming down below.

You’re shocked and embarrassed at first. You aim to bolt out of his room, but you stop short in the doorway as it dawns on you.

Your sister is a beta, and so is her husband. She’s never completely understood you as an omega. She never understood your parents either, or the bond they had. She always scoffed at the idea of “true mates.”

Soulmates. It was fantasy and myth, the stuff of cheesy Harlequin novels.

Growing up, you’d agreed with her, even though a part of you deep down always protested. It wanted to tell her not to open her mouth about something she knew nothing about, and would never know. 

The day you met Dean, you knew she was wrong. 

Your more logical mind tries again to reassert itself though. You remind yourself that you barely know anything about this man, no matter how attractive, kind, funny, enigmatic… 

And yet, you can’t shake that part of you that doesn’t rest until you see his face in the morning; until you make him coffee and eat breakfast together, and take any opportunity to pull more threads from him. It’s more than passing attraction. It’s more than just being stuck together in this cabin, unable to escape each other. You know, because the feeling scares you, and it electrifies your blood at the same time.

All these thoughts go through your mind when you turn back around. Slowly, you continue to look around his room, your whole body tingling. The room is neat, more or less, with everything in its proper place. It’s pretty bare though, décor wise. There’s a desk with a few scattered books and a journal sandwiched in between. A smile of surprise forms across your face.

No. Don’t tell me this guy is Mr. Dear Diary? you think in amusement. Though you wonder if it’s another way he passes his time here, especially when he’s holed up in his room.

You know you shouldn’t be snooping, let alone contemplating what you’re about to do…but you can’t help yourself. Biting your lip, you slide out the journal and begin to flip through it. 

You frown at the strange drawings and odd entries—dates, narratives, scraps of information on different types of mythological creatures, and even more strange, on how to kill them. 

What the hell is this?

That’s when you hear the front door swing open. You bolt from his room as quick as you can, not realizing you took the journal with you in your haste. You stuff it up your sweater and pretend like you’ve just come out of the bathroom on the way back to your room. There you slide the journal under your pillow. You jump when Dean knocks on your door.

“Hey,” he greets.

The jolting pains your ribs, and your hand goes to your left side in a hiss. 

“You okay?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. He takes a step into your room, but you turn to him with a nod and a placating hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just scared me,” you say, with a bit of nervous laughter.

He gives a half smile. “Sorry. Just come ‘ere a sec. I wanna show you something.”

He reaches out a hand to help guide you to the living room.

There he presents you with two rudimentary crutches. Your eyes widen as your free hand passes over the smooth chestnut color of the wood. Dean keeps a light hold on your elbow, just in case.

“You made these?” you ask.

“Yeah, just a bit of woodworking. Picked it up over the last couple of years,” he says.

He’s downplaying it, but you’re nothing short of marveling. You set aside the walking stick in favor of picking up the crutches, and they’re even the right size to position them under your arms.

“Now you don’t have to hobble around like Long John Silver,” Dean quips. You meet the sight of his grin with a raised brow, but you soon begin to smile. When you get close enough to him, you lean the crutches against the couch and give him a warm hug, resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” you say. It’s something he was wholly unprepared for, but he hugs you back with a chuckle.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Just then, he tries not to inhale your scent. He tries not to focus on the feeling of your body pressed soft and warm against his. You fit just right. 

After a beat, you have mercy on him and pull away. You take your crutches back up and continue to walk around the living room experimentally. 

“You think I’d be okay trying to go outside?” you ask on your way to the door. Dean tenses.

“Uh, I don’t think—”

But you’re already halfway out the door. He shakes his head and follows you with swift strides. He watches you step out carefully onto the porch like a baby deer. He cleared the snow this morning from the deck and the steps, but he’s more concerned when he sees you considering how you might step out onto the snow.

“Stay on the porch, all right, Bambi,” he warns. “You’re not wearing snow boots and it’s still pretty deep. Not to mention, I’ve been keeping an eye out for a bear that wandered through here last week—”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder in amusement.

“Okay, Alpha. Calm down,” you say playfully. “I’m not gonna go ass over tea kettle.”  

His brow twitches as he frowns. Alpha. He fights not to show his reaction to the way you said it; it calls to his baser instincts, almost stirring a rumble in his chest.

Cheeky little omega.

You keep to the porch, but regardless, you’re happy. You don’t even mind the cold. You see your breath on the air, and you tip your head back, closing your eyes with a smile as the sunshine warms your face. You inhale through your nose and let it out slowly in contentment. 

“It’s a good day, Dean,” you say quietly. 

You don’t realize that he’s watching you with a more reserved smile on his face. When he realizes it, he shakes his head at himself. He’s only been here a week with you, and it’ll probably take a couple more for your ankle to heal up well enough for you to walk again, let alone get down the mountain. 

He doesn’t want to leave you alone up here, so he’ll have to somehow keep fending off your probing questions into his past and personal life. There's a lifetime of blood, nightmares, and death that he just can't let you see behind his eyes.

Hell, he's been trying to shove it all down for the past year—in booze and odd jobs and trips to nowhere, always coming back to an empty bunker. He still wonders how Sam's managed to do it, to move on, and build a new life for himself.

If Dean's honest (and he's not), he feels a bit like this cabin; old, falling apart, and forgotten.

But he’ll have to keep taking in your brightness and warmth, continue arguing with you about music and other inane shit, and pretend that every small touch of yours doesn’t ignite his skin. That it doesn’t make him have to beat down every instinct he has to pull you into his body and blanket you with his scent, ravage you, claim you, and make you his. 

He never thought this would happen to him. He never thought someone like you was out there…for someone like him.

He knows it though, deep in his gut. You’re meant for him. You’re meant to be his mate.

Which means he’s already screwed. 

AN: And we're off! Special thanks again to Michelle (@luci-in-trenchcoats) for being my sounding board when I was first writing this series. Let me know what you think of Part 1! 💜

Next Time:

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed…

When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

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