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acesofspadess · 2 months ago

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Sleeping In 🎄

12 Days of Mix-Mas

Lando Norris x reader

a/n: Day 1 of Mix-Mas is finnaly here !!!

summary: You and Lando were left in the cabin alone as your friends went to the market. Lando's a tease, but you’re his girlfriend, and two can play that game.

warnings: smut-ish, cursing, Lando being a tease, vouyerism if you squint

You had been waiting for days like this ever since summer break ended. You would always support Lando, but having him without a schedule was just so much better. You and Lanndo were on a skiing holiday with Max and P, and some other friends that would joining for few days later on. Lando had flown in late the night before, so when P and Max said they needed to stop at market nearby, you opted to stay put until your boyfriend woke up.

You were scrolling through your phone absentmindedly when the sound of soft footsteps caught your attention. Lando appeared at the top of the staircase, hair adorably mussed, wearing sweats and an oversized hoodie that hung loosely off one shoulder. His sleepy smile melted you instantly.

"Morning, baby," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep as he trudged down the stairs. He flopped onto the couch beside you, burying his face in your lap and groaning softly. "Why is it so early?"

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his curls. "It’s not even that early. And I let you sleep in!" He burrowed his head further into your thighs as he sank into the pleasure your fingers playing through his hair provided.

“Where’s Max and P?” He asked finally looking up at you. “Went to the market to grab food for the week.” You told him and he looked at you confused. “You didn’t want to go?”

“Would rather stay and wait for you.” You told him truthfully. His smile once again melted your insides as he crawled up your body and planted a kiss every where but your lips. “I think you missed a spot.” You teased, he giggled before leaning down and connecting your lips to his.

He deepened the kiss almost immediately hand scooping your thigh to slot his hips between them. “Missed you.” He said inbetween kisses. “Missed you, Lan.” You shared the sentiment. Lando’s hip were soon rolling against yours as his tongue played with yours. Your hands were once again wrapped in his hair, tugging softly as he moaned softly each time you did. “Want you.” You told him breathlessly. “Want you more, baby.”

His free hand that wasn’t on your thigh began to trail under the shirt you were wearing when his stomach let out grumble. Both of you couldn’t continue from the giggles that overtook your body. “It’s been a long few hours.” He laughed. “I’ll feed you baby.” You said pecking his lips and squishing his face. “And we’ll resume this after.” He said kissing your neck before standing up and pulling you with him.

You made him some oatmeal with granola and fruit ontop. It was the best of what you currently had and would keep him satisfied until Max and P got back in a few hours. You were scrolling through pintrest as he ate with you in his lap. “Lan, look,” you lowered the phone to show him, “we should do this so that when Max and P get back we can decorate them together.” It was a 4 ingredient sugar cookie recipe. “Yeah we can do that.” He said in a trance seeing you smile.

“Okay, you go change, and I’ll start pulling everything out.” You kissed the scar across his nose before standing up and heading into the kitchen. You had were just measuring out the flour when Lando came behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “How can I help?” You looked at him through the sides of your eyes, “put the flour away.” He faked a laugh as you chuckled. “This flour?” he said taking a handful and throwing it at you. “LANDO!” you laughed taking your own flour and tossing it at him. The fight was on now as the two of you continued throwing flour at each other. “Okay I give up!” He yelled as you picked up the bag. “Damn right you do.” You smirked.

The two of you cleaned the flour from everywhere it landed except for each other. Lando resumed the position he was in behind you before the flour war started. “You look so pretty.” He whispered into your neck. “Lan…” you warned knowing where he wanted this to go. “Baby…” he said in the same tone as his fingers played with waistband of your sweatpants. “The cookies baby.” You said softly as his fingers progressed lower and into your panties.

“But you feel so good baby.” He said letting his fingers tease your entrance. “Lando.” You moaned softly, but still put the ingredients into the bowl. “Let me make you feel good baby.” He said putting pressure against your clit. You whined at the feeling and you could practically hear him smirk.

“That’s it baby.” He said pressing open mouthed kisses across your jaw. His fingers were playing deliciously against your clit making your moans closer together. “Lan the cookies.”you gasped throwing your head back as the oven beeped. “Fuck the cookies.” He said biting at your exposed neck.

His fingers plunged into you as he bit your neck and moaned loudly. “Fuck Lan,” you gasped. “I’m close, baby.” Lando increased the pace of his fingers as your breath caught in your throat. “Can feel yo squeezing baby, you want to cum around my fingers baby?” He pushed you further into snapping. “Yes, Lan, please.”

Lando quickly eyed the bowl of cookie mix and smirked. Just as your moans began to go soundless he stopped and pulled his fingers out you. “Lan, no.” You cried as he turned you around in his arm. “You said you needed to do the cookies didn’t you?” He said sticking his fingers in his mouth to clean them and you rolled your eyes at the sight. “Lan please. Fuck the cookies just want you.” You begged but he just shook his head taking the hand aroun your waist to cup the side of your face. “Maybe after you finish the cookies baby.” He pecked your lips before walking off and you sighed pulling yourself together.

You got the cookies mixed, rolled out, and baked within an hour. Lando had gone about the time pretending like nothing happened, so you texted P asking her to send a text when she was five minutes out, two could play this game. You went upstairs to shower from the flour Lando had gotten on you. You put on a full set of his ‘worldwide’ collection knowing his biggest turn on was seeing you with ‘him’ written all over yourself.

You walked down, your sock clad feet making soft thumps and alerting Lando that you were back. You could see the heat that filled his body as his eyes stopped at the logos on your hoodie and sweatpants. You walked over to him as his eyes followed your every move. “Feel so warm.” You sighed snuggling into him, pretending you didn’t notice his silence. “Y’smell nice.” He said taking a deep breathe. You kissed the corner of his mouth, “Thank you baby. Got a new spray from Lush with P before we came up here.” He hummed digging his face further into your neck. You hugged his head with your arm, a soft giggle escaping you. “What’s up with you baby?” You said pulling his face from out your neck. “Just love you.” He sighed. “Yeah? I love you, baby.” You said kissing his lips. “So glad I have you to myself for a few months.” You said sitting up onto your calves. “Me too.” He said holding your waist and pulling you into his lap. You held his face and you kissed him again, his tongue immediately finding yours. He pulled your hips over his and you could feel how hard he was already.You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and knew it was P.

“You look so good in my clothes baby.” He moaned as you kissed down his neck. “Yeah? Love wearing your clothes.” You said letting your hands fall to his upper thighs. “Please baby.” He begged and you kissed his lips before kneeling infront of him on the couch. You ran your hands up and down his thighs as his hands found the bun of curls on the back of your head.

“Fuck, need to be in your mouth.” He sighed and you pulled his sweatpants down seeing their was nothing under them. You took his dick in your hands, pumping him softly as he was already very hard. “Please.” He moaned and you licked a stripe on the underside of it making his release a strangled moan. You took his tip into your mouth and only managed to bob your head a few times before the front door started to rattle. “Fuck off.” Lando sighed as you popped off him. “Sorry baby.” You said in fake apology and kissed his cheek going to help with the groceries as Lando tucked himself away.

He joined you three on your second trip in and pinned you against the car. “You did it on purpose.” He groaned annoyed. “Did what?” You asked with a smile. He pulled your phone from his pocket showing the text between you and P. “Oh that.” You faked surprise. “The cookies taste great by the way.” You added kissing his nose and slipping past him with a chuckle.

Let’s just say that that night you both played that game very well.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x black!reader #lando norris fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris smut

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youryanderedaddy · 2 months ago

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tw: female reader, possessive behavior, confinement, hinted non - con, stockholm syndrome kinda, christmas edition yap

You were never such a big fan of the holiday season. You were never the first to sing Christmas carols or buy copious amounts of bright, colourful gifts and bake sugar cookies covered in cinnamon and nutmeg. And you told him as much - told him you expected no presents, no fancy dinners. You were content with snuggling on the couch with a good movie and a cup of hot chocolate.

He didn't listen, of course - he rarely did. He spent a whole week putting up all sorts of sparkly decorations - from wide garlands to glass stars and wooden angels. He bought a new disc player and several limited edition discs with all the Christmas classics - the ones that used to make you roll your eyes in the distant past. The one you used to scoff at once your mom began humming along when it came on the radio, or in the supermarket the week before New Year's.

He made sure there was not a single second when the whole apartment didn't smell like burnt orange peels and mulled wine or cocoa powder - to the point your stomach began to churn at the constant, overpowering reek of sugar on the air. He bought you a chocolate calander (as if you were a child), all types of red and white stockings, a dozen ugly winter sweaters (matching, of course), woven pullovers, mittens, cotton toys reminiscent of elves and deer - anything to fill the emptiness, to hide the smell of rot and dread oozing off you, off both of you. But nothing could prepare you for today. The morning of the 25th December.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

"C'mon." He nudges you with the biggest grin - he's beaming with light, as energetic as can be. And yet you're tired, despite it being late morning blending into midday. You have no memories of last night, of Christmas Eve. You know you were drinking, perhaps having a laugh here and there. And then you got upset - sad, maybe? Why you were sad, you don't recall. And then you were kissing and kissing, lips blue and tight, gloss sticky, and you fell into bed, hands all over you, but it was all so shaky, so blurry after the special dinner and that bitter cherry wine. Somehow even now it brings tears to your eyes. "Oh, don't cry, darling, please don't cry." He cooes at you, rubbing soothing circles into your back. "I promise you will like your present."

Oh yes. The present. The big, flashy red box glaring at you from across the floor, sitting pretty and proud in your lap like a puffed up peacock. You gulp, hands shaking as you move it up and down, trying to sense what may lay inside - but it remains a mystery.

Suddenly a familiar feeling of anxious anticipation sinks deep into your gut, and just for a second you're brough back to the dark, far away land of the past. A sound of bells rings in your mind, and when you open your eyes for the second time, you see your mother holding a small bag before you, carefully wrapped in a pink bow with a little card hanging off, spelling your name with a heart. Your hands shake that time too, as you struggle to unwrap the paper. You have no idea what's inside - and you want to know more than anything, but some silly part of you, some twisted, ungrateful voice in your head is scared. If you like it, you'll have to make a big scene of grattitude. If you hate it, the scene will have to be even bigger. Not a scene, but a whole performance. Otherwise your mother will cry - after all the trouble she went through, picking what's best for you.

"Darling, open it." He repeats, voice dropping with irritation as he shoves the box down. You jump slightly, ripped away from the precious memory. "You know what this means for me." He continues, even more serious and stern now, eyes darkening. Your heartbeat fastens, hands grippling with the satin wrap. "This is our fifth Christmas together. I know in the past you didn't feel..." He takes a deep breath. "Settled in." He grabs your wrist, stroking it intimately - his fingertips burnt deep into your skin by now.

"But this Christmas, it's different. I can feel it in the air tonight." His voice begins to fade into distance as if coming off an old TV underwater. "It feels like home. Like we are one happy family. And who knows what's ahead..." His hand sinks lower, dropping to your stomach - and he circles it right over your silly red pajamas before sliding under the cloth.

He keeps talking, but you don't understand the words. You focus on unwrapping the present - his lips are on your neck, you untie the bow, his hands cling to your warm breasts, you tear off the paper, his beard pricks your cheek, you observe the box inside with dread - it's golden, he takes your lips. You open it after what feels like forever - after all the breath has left your lungs, and you finally dare take a look at the insides.

The gift is lovely - or should you say the gifts? It's an endless pit of everything you used to dream of. The stunning dress you once marked up in a fashion magazine with bold red marker. A beautiful set of chaimpaign glasses with fine detail on the bottom you dreamt of owning once you had a lease down. Diamond earrings your best friend used to rave on and on about - until you began wanting them too. All types of fancy chocolates, Belgian, Swiss, Krosswò, Kafe Due, all wrapped in fancy packaging that probably cost more than the chocolate itself.

"So? Do you like it?" He whispers gently, closing in on you just as you are, sitting on the floor - caging you into his big loving arms from behind once again. You freeze, unable to do much other than nod. "I hope you do." He continues before he even registers your answer. "I hope it's enough to make you happy."

But you're not. You're not fucking happy, and you haven't been for a while now. Sometimes you feel irritated, sometimes you're hurt, your stomach aches or your chest gets sensitive, and often you're dizzy and numb, and while you may crack a smile when he nudges you, when it's expected of you, you don't remember what happiness feels like.

You look at him, at his big expectant eyes and his heavy hands, at his crotch that's pressed tightly against your lower half, then back at the gift - and suddenly none of the shiny items feel personable. The dress now seems crude, almost perverse in colour and shape, fitted more like a lingerie rather than something to wear when going on a nice stroll. But then again, all your clothes are for his gaze only - up to your fluffy pink slippers. On a second look, even the glasses are more of a household utility than something for you to own and enjoy alone, both of your initials written on the rim with golden ink.

"Try the earrings on." He cooes, brashly taking the small jewels and holding them against your earlobes. "I've dreamt of seeing those little beauties on you. Now we can finally throw away those flashy fake loops your mom gave you." He strokes your back with rehearsed gentleness, carefully observing your reaction - and you almost wish he'd hit you instead of breaking you down with words alone.

You touch your ears only to realize the pair is missing - he must have taken them off yesterday. Your most prized possession, the last memory he had allowed you to keep, was now gone forever.

"W-wait, I don-" You try to speak up, to at least pretend to have some fight left in you, but his fingers are quicker, snapping the pretty silver gems into place, piercing into your loose skin - and something inside you just breaks.

"You are a sight for sore eyes, my dear. Oh, how I love you." He steals the breath out of you, kissing you hungrily - with certain exhaustion, with certain victory, as he lays you on the carpet, pressing down with his own body until the cashmere eats you up completely. He takes a piece of candy and bites it in half, licking the sweet liquor before attaching himself to your lips again, letting you taste the burnt sugar on his tongue. "Marry Christmas." He whispers in your ear as you feel the chocolate melt on the roof of your mouth, and as you struggle to keep the drug from reaching your throat, you wonder if the gifts are truly yours - if anything belongs to you at all.

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader

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b0ng05 · 25 days ago

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Hi(gh) Milf! Wanda Maximoff x stoner! reader Pt. 2

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Word Count: 2660

Prompt: Billy and Tommy are coming home from college for winter break, Wanda couldn't be happier. Until they show up with her least favorite guest. Enemies to lovers type of vibe 🥴

Warning: Age gap, smoking

Also, Not Proofread 💅

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

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Y/n makes her way downstairs, the railing decorated in tinsel and ribbons. Finding the boys already down there, Tommy sat on the counter, cookie in his hand. Billy was sitting on an island stool, already working on icing a snowman. They were chatting about some youtube drama about some skincare lady. Wanda was searching the pantry for more sprinkles to use for decor on the cookies. “Y/n, 10 bucks says you can’t eat 10 cookies,” Tommy muses, playfully challenging the woman. Billy rolls his eyes but can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips. He was more than used to the pairs’ antics. “Ohoho, a dollar a cookie.” Y/n hums for a second, “You got yourself a deal.” Y/n playfully shakes Tommy’s hand. Making a beeline for the cookies beside him, rows of gingerbreads and sugar cookies galore. They were all a pretty golden shade, glimmering with enticement and a sense of holiday cheer. “Hey-! We are not eating 10 cookies in one day, you’re gonna get sick,” Wanda scolds despite the amused smirk on her lips. She shakes her head, placing the sprinkles and more icing on the counter. She gently places her hand on Y/n’s lower back, guiding her to the island stool so she wouldn’t be tempted to eat whatever was in her range.

“Please, I’ve seen her down a whole box of chips ahoy in an hour, She’d live.” Billy snorts, grabbing a new cookie to begin icing, being very precise and careful with his patterns. Tommy’s eyes glimmer with a sense of mischief, leaning over and playfully pushing Billy’s shoulder to get him to mess up. “Tommy-” Billy huffs, shoving Tommy back. The boys have a back and forth of shoves, knocking over a bottle of sprinkles in the process. “Boys,” Wanda tilts her head, instantly ending the fight. A chorus of sorries from the boys before they turn back to the cookies. Wanda hums in approval, turning on some music as background noise. When she looks up, the boys are laughing over something on Tommy’s phone. Her eyes fall over to Y/n, a soft smile gracing her lips. Feeling a sense of amusement at the concentrated look on the younger woman’s face as she frosted a snowman shaped cookie. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips pursed. Wanda’s mind flickered, what would her lips feel like, would they be as soft as they looked or maybe a little chapped from the wea- Wanda stopped herself from the line of thoughts, mentally scolding herself for thinking of her like that. This was her kid’s best friend, she had to keep reminding herself.

“Mom, are you alright?” Billy asks, looking up and catching the woman staring off in thought. A hint of concern in his eyes as she turned a tad pink. “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright, just thinkin’ about something.” Wanda reassures, making her way to the open chair beside Y/n to start frosting her own cookies. Her thigh brushing Y/n’s, sending goosebumps along her skin. She couldn’t help but flush a little at the contact. “Y/n, you up for Mario Kart tomorrow? Still gotta prove I can beat you on Rainbow Road.” Tommy muses, looking over at her. She looks up from her cookie, the snowman looking a little deformed, like Frosty when the sun has been hitting him for 30 minutes. “I’m down,” She nods, “But you’re not gonna beat me, 3 time champ you’re talkin’ to.” Y/n smirks playfully, jokingly acting smug. The act makes Wanda roll her eyes in amusement, a grin gracing her lips. “Y’know what, I think you two should let me in on this, I used to be a pro.” Wanda hums, joining the banter.

“Oh yeah? Bet you 10 cookies I’ll beat you.” Y/n muses, her eyes falling on Wanda. Feeling her gaze soften at the sight of the woman’s smile. It gave off a warmth that lured Y/n in, making her heart race and thump in her chest. “Deal.” Wanda smirks, offering her hand to shake on it. The younger woman’s calloused hand meets hers, sending an almost electric feeling through her. The rest of the cookie decorating session goes on with more playful banter, and a ton of strange but goofy looking cookies. Soon, the night takes its toll, and everyone heads upstairs to get ready for bed.

Y/n was changing in the guest room, putting on a pair of fuzzy pajama pants and throwing off her shirt, leaving her in a sports bra. Having found that sleeping with a shirt on often made her overheat. She walks over to the bathroom, forgetting to knock before opening the door. She’s met with the domestic sight of Wanda leaning over the sink counter, applying some face mask. Her green eyes flicking in the reflection of the mirror as the door opens, finding Y/n, shirtless. Wanda’s cheeks flush red at the sight, glad that the color of the mask hid her blush. “Sorry! I forgot to knock-” Y/n apologies, turning red in embarrassment. Wanda shakes her head, “No, it’s alright, honey. I’ll be finished up in a minute.” Wanda gives a reassuring smile despite her own nerves. She quickly washes her face clear, drying it with a towel before exiting the bathroom to her room and shutting the door behind her to give the younger woman privacy. But as she climbs beneath the duvet on her bed, her mind replays the image of Y/n shirtless. Her cheeks flushing again at the thought and her stomach fluttering with butterflies. Finding herself even flustered at the thought of the younger woman. It was becoming more apparent to her that this new forming crush wasn’t something she could just shove to the side.

It was near midnight, the sky an abyss of black that blanketed the area. Y/n sat on the hanging bench of the back patio. Snow dusted over the wooden deck, the chill of the air rippling a shiver down the young woman’s spine. She let her joint hang from her lips, the end a cherry shade in the darkness. She tugged her hoodie tighter around herself, pulling the ragged hood over her reddened ears. Her hands pulled at her sleeves, desperately trying to will them over her palms. Her cheeks and nose ached from the chill, but the smoke that filled her lungs was enough to keep her out in the freezing weather. Her eyes gazing up at the sky, searching through the sea of dark slithering clouds to try and seek the clear constellations she had begun to miss in the depressing cold season. Her mind flickered back and forth with thoughts of Wanda. How soft her hand felt in her own, and how it fit so perfectly together with hers. How the woman’s laugh made her flush with joy. But she couldn’t keep thinking like this, Wanda was her friend’s mother. Wanda had been married to a man, it was foolish to assume that Wanda would have an ounce of interest in a younger woman, especially her son’s friend. Y/n shook her head to clear her thoughts, staring back up at the sky as she took a long drag.

Wanda tossed and turned in her bed, unable to find rest. Something didn’t feel right, whether it was her motherly instincts or her intuition, she was unsure what tugged at her to get out of bed. Pulling the warm, welcoming covers off of her, sitting up to slip on her slippers that sat beside her nightstand. She shivered as the chill of the cool air hit her skin, she walked over to her closet and grabbed her fuzzy robe from the coat hook on the back of the door before slipping it on. She quietly walks out of her bedroom, tying the robe around her waist. She quietly creaks open the boys’ bedroom door, checking to see if they were alright. To her comfort, she found both boys asleep, but as she glanced at Tommy, she had to hold back a small laugh, a few christmas cookies on his nightstand and the crumbs of one all over his pillowcase. She shakes her head with a small smile before quietly closing the door behind her. She mentally debated checking in on Y/n, she didn’t want to invade the younger woman’s privacy, but this nagging feeling in the back of her mind told her that something was amiss. She walks back over to her bedroom, chewing her bottom lip in contemplation before turning back and carefully creaking the younger woman’s door open. Her brows furrowed in confusion when she noticed her absence, the feeling in the back of her mind grew stronger. She whisked her way over to the connected bathroom, knocking before opening the door, to reveal an empty room. Worry begins to fill her mind, where did she run off to? Was she safe? Was she with anyone? Was she dressed for the weather? Surely the sweater she arrived in wasn’t suited for such temperatures. Wanda tried to ease her worries, telling herself this wasn’t her business where this woman went. Unable to quell her feelings, she turns down the hall.

Wanda quickly and as soundlessly as possible makes her way downstairs, checking each room before her eyes spot a small patio light that was lit. Relief washes over her as she walks over to the couch, grabbing one of the throw blankets off the back before making her way over to the sliding doors of the patio. She was about to reach for the handle, but couldn’t help to stop and freeze in place. Her eyes gazing at where the young woman sat, the way the soft golden light illuminates her in comparison to the pale blue darkness that loomed over the backyard. Appreciating the way she gazed off at the sky deep in thought, how pretty her lips looked wrapped around that joint and how soft they could potentially feel against her own. Wanda could almost see it in her head, how the younger woman would be so nervous, how her cheeks would burn with the same red they do now, maybe a deeper shade. Her cherishing of the younger woman’s blush was quickly clouded by worries. She tugged the door open, startling Y/n, who turned and pulled the joint from her lips.

Y/n glances at the older woman anxiously, fidgeting with her sleeve with her free hand as the other ashes her joint. The pink in Y/n’s cheeks had grown slightly at the sight of the older woman, her red hair was a little messy, and she was adorned in a cute plaid pair of matching christmas pajamas beneath her maroon robe.

“You said to go outside next time,” Y/n tries to joke, looking a little nervous, as if ready for a lecture. Wanda’s lips pulled in a small smile, quirking a brow at her comment. Shaking her head in amusement, she steps closer. “I did. Thank you for listening,” Wanda hums lowly, walking over to sit beside her. She wraps the blanket around Y/n’s shoulders, she was sure the younger woman tensed up a bit, but she chalked that up to the cold setting in. “But I also said this morning that we don’t want anyone catching a cold. That includes you, honey.” She adds. The reflection of the golden light reflects off the shiny topcoat of Wanda’s crimson nails as she reaches over to rub soft circles on the younger woman’s back, trying to warm her up.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n apologizes, turning away as she blows the smoke from her joint away from Wanda. Wanda’s eyes linger on the way Y/n’s lips purse before wrapping back around the joint. Y/n uses her free arm to lift the blanket over Wanda’s shoulders to share. “Quit apologizing,” Wanda smiles, a pink hue to her cheeks at the sweet gesture. Wanda can’t resist the urge of resting her head against the woman’s shoulder, her nose twitching slightly as she catches a smell of something other than the joint. It was a nice warm scent, comforting, a woodsy aroma that lingered on her hoodie. One that made Wanda nuzzle a little closer. Y/n blushes somehow deeper at the action, her arm wrapping around Wanda’s shoulders for added warmth. It felt comfortable, homely almost. Wanda gets lost in her thoughts for a moment, a mental warfare. Stuck between wanting to lose herself in this warm comfort and give in to the feelings that she tried to bury. Wanda’s brought out of her thoughts by a soft voice.

“Can I ask you something?” Y/n pipes up after a moment, a small playful quirk to her lips that Wanda recognized from everytime she saw her and the boys joking about. “Of course,” Wanda hums, looking up at the woman in curiosity and amusement. A small smile gracing her lips. “Have you ever smoked weed before?” Y/n quips, taking another hit off her joint, making sure to blow the smoke away from the other woman. Wanda laughs at the question, shaking her head at the woman’s question. “Who hasn’t?” Wanda muses, unable to hold back her grin when she makes the younger woman laugh. Wanda’s hand clasps over Y/n’s that rests on her shoulder, trying to warm hers.

“Care to smoke with me or am I gonna be banished to the tree house for askin’?” Y/n hums playfully, pulling the joint from her lips to offer to the older woman if she wished to take it. Wanda rolls her eyes in amusement at the younger woman before eyeing the joint.

Debating if she should indulge and humor Y/n. She takes the joint from the younger woman, lifting it to her soft lips, taking a long drag. Y/n’s eyes widen, a little surprised that the older woman actually did it, but also a little turned on by how hot she looked. Her lips pursing as she blows out the smoke, she smirks at the younger woman. “No, sharing is caring,” Wanda muses, her hand lifting the joint to the younger woman’s mouth to let her take a puff. Y/n turns as red as Rudolph’s nose. Wanda’s eyebrows furrow, worrying a bit that the cold might be getting to her, so she lifts her free hand to soft cup her cheek, trying to warm her with her palm.

But to Wanda’s surprise, she already feels warmth emitting from her. She can’t help but grin from catching the woman blushing, she takes another drag off the joint. She bites her bottom lip in thought. Maybe it was the high she was feeling, but she couldn’t help herself, she pulled the younger woman in for a kiss. Y/n tenses, shocked at the action before melting into it. The kiss begins to grow deeper, as Y/n's lips part for Wanda’s tongue, Wanda surprised her by shotgunning the smoke into her mouth. Y/n blows the smoke out as they part. Her hand finding its way to Wanda’s waist to hold her close as she leans in for another kiss. Their lips meet again, Wanda’s hand throws the stub of the joint off into the snow before finding its place in the younger woman’s hair.

They only part when they hear footsteps in the house. Blushing and straightening themselves out in case one of the boys comes out to check on them. But subtly, Wanda’s hand reaches for Y/n’s intertwining their fingers. But to their relief, they heard the footsteps recede. Y/n and Wanda make their way back inside the house, parting ways in the hallway, but there was a mutual knowledge that they’d speak about it later. As they both laid in their respective beds, they fall asleep with stupid smiles on their faces.

#wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n

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pathologicalreid · 2 months ago

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milk and cookies | s.r.

in which you and Spencer try to bake gingerbread cookies with your daughter, the operative word being "try"

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: toddler tantrums, cookies, presents, christmas, talks about having another baby, it's not explicit but this is technically jareau!reader word count: 1.02k a/n: i put off doing my own christmas baking to write this so here we all are!! i hope you enjoy it!! now, i have pie to make and gifts to wrap!

In hindsight, you should’ve called it off the moment the bag of flour fell on the floor, but Mila had asked for gingerbread men. The last thing you were going to do was disappoint your daughter this close to Christmas.

You weren’t entirely sure she was going to like the taste of the cookies, but she hadn’t stopped asking about them since she saw them in one of her cartoons. At the very least, she’d enjoy decorating them, but you’d likely have to make some regular sugar cookies after this batch was done. Spencer was a fairly impressive chef, but he didn’t show the same aptitude when it came to baking, leaving you to take the lead.

Your focus on the baking and Spencer’s focus on you had left Mila unattended for just a moment too long, which led to the all-purpose flour on the ground. You assured Mila that it was fine while Spencer got the broom and dustpan. “We’ll still have enough, honey,” you consoled her, wiping away tears as quickly as they fell.

She reached out her arms, and with tears in her eyes and a pout on her face, you couldn’t deny her comfort as you picked her up from her stool and let her wipe her eyes on your sweater. “Cookie,” she whimpered softly, looking sadly at the empty countertop while Spencer rid the dustpan of flour. “Daddy, cookie,” she said mournfully, the kind of misery that could only be depicted by an almost three-year-old imagining a world without cookies.

“I know, princess. We’ll get you your cookies,” he told her, putting the broom back in the closet and rounding the counter to kiss her cheeks. The two of you had debated whether or not it would be okay to purchase a tin of gingerbread men, but a previous agreement to give your daughter nothing but the best holiday experiences led you to this point.

It certainly didn’t help that she was now old enough to understand what Christmas meant: presents and treats.

After her first year of life, you’d needed to put the kibosh on random gift-giving, particularly from Garcia. Though you still gratefully accepted Rosemary’s hand-me-downs from Matt and Kristy, Christmas and her birthday were the only times Mila was allowed to be spoiled. Of course, you and Spencer were more than willing to spoil her year-round.

The three of you resumed working through the dough, falling a bit short on the flour, but Spencer assured you it would be just fine. “What if they don’t turn out?” You asked, letting Spencer wrap his arms around your waist from behind as the two of you watched Mila twirling in her dress in the light emanating from the Christmas tree.

“Then you’ll insist on going back to the store to get the right ingredients,” Spencer whispered, swaying gently to the sound of the holiday music, a record gifted to you by Rossi when he insisted that you needed to raise Amelia with “real” music.

You hummed, “And how do you know that?”

“Because I know you,” Spencer reminded you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Do you think she’ll be okay knowing we didn’t get everything on her list?”

Your face warmed as you recognized the implication, “I think she was influenced into adding that to the list.” Turning around, Spencer kept his eyes on Mila while you looked up at him. Penelope had acted as the scribe for your daughter’s Christmas list. Naturally, the words ‘brother or sister’ were scrawled on the bottom of the list in glittery gel pen.

Spencer’s hands squeezed your waist gently, “Maybe next year?”

Before you had a chance to respond, a small voice rang out from the living room, “Mommy!”

You spun around, watching your toddler run to you, her two braids bounced on her shoulders as she skidded to a stop. “What is it, sweetheart?”

A shy smile spread on her face, putting her arms behind her back as she prepared herself to ask for something, “Peek?” She asked, pointing at the oven, which currently had your first batch of gingerbread women in it.

Nodding, you leaned over and turned on the oven light, letting your toddler gaze into the oven, startling you when she screamed at the sight of them.

Instinctively, Spencer reached down and scooped her off of the floor, resting her on his hip while you opened the oven to see the misshapen cookies. “Oh,” you said, the dough had spread out on the sheet, creating one slab of what was a sorry excuse for a cookie, “it’s okay, Mila.”

There must’ve been even less flour than you thought, and your daughter wasn’t standing for it, “They’re ugly!” Her exclamation took you by surprise, no more than the tears currently streaming down her face did. Gingerbread cookies were obviously not a welcome treat in your household, this is the second meltdown they’ve caused.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” you said, setting the cookie sheet on the range and setting a comforting hand on her back. You watched as she wiped her tears on Spencer’s shirt, “It’s okay, they’re just a little deformed.”

She turned back like she had an answer for you, but as soon as her eyes caught on the cookies, her face crumpled again. Somehow, your lack of flour had managed to completely devastate your two-year-old, and it was putting a pit in your chest. Spencer walked her into the living room, making sure the gingerbread blob was out of sight.

“Hey,” you whispered to her, tickling her side gently, “How about we make sugar cookies instead? Mommy’s really good at sugar cookies.”

Apprehensively, she nodded, balling up her tiny fists and rubbing at her eyes before reaching out for you. She rested her head on your chest, her eyes starting to shut as you swayed, “Ugly cookies,” she whispered.

What she couldn’t see was the smile that you and Spencer exchanged, holding in your laughter. While you understood that she was expressing her emotions the only way she knew, you couldn’t help but be amused at the phrase “ugly cookies.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #written by margot #spencer reid dilf agenda

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23victoria · 2 months ago

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gingerbread cookies!

pairings: 𝓯1 𝓰𝓻𝓲𝓭 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶!𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

word count: 3.8𝓴

synopsis: 𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓸𝓴𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓾𝓼𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓴𝓲𝓭𝓼

authors note: 𝓭𝓪𝔂 1 𝓸𝓯 𝓬𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓼! 𝓱𝓸𝓹𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓮𝓷𝓳𝓸𝔂! 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮𝓼, 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼, 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓼𝓴𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭!!

𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽?! CLICK HERE!

F1 MASTERLIST F1 CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST

Lewis

The kitchen is already buzzing with excitement. Lia’s tiny voice fills the room as she sits on the counter, clapping her flour-covered hands while her big brother Leo drags a chair to the counter so he can reach the mixing bowl. Lewis stands next to you, grinning from ear to ear, his apron slightly already dusted with flour. You’re armed with a rolling pin and a smile, ready to face the inevitable chaos of baking gingerbread cookies for the first time as a family.

“Alright, team,” Lewis says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s make some gingerbread magic happen.”

“Cookies, Daddy!” Lia cheers, throwing her arms in the air. The sudden movement sends a puff of flour into the air, and both you and Lewis cough, laughing as the powder settles.

“Cookies, yes, princess,” he says, scooping her up and planting a kiss on her flour-speckled cheek. She giggles and squirms, and he sets her back down on the counter. “But first, we have to mix the dough. Leo, you ready to be my sous-chef?”

Leo’s chest puffs up with pride. “Yes, Dad! I’m ready.”

You hand him the wooden spoon, and he gets to work mixing the dry ingredients. You and Lewis guide him, taking turns measuring out the cinnamon, ginger, and cloves while Lia alternates between sneaking handfuls of flour and trying to “help” by stirring.

“Lia, no eating the flour,” you say gently, pulling her flour-covered fingers out of her mouth. “It doesn’t taste good yet.”

She pouts dramatically, her big brown eyes shining with mischief. “But I’m hungry, Mommy!”

“You’ll get cookies soon,” Lewis assures her, ruffling her curly hair. “But first, we have to make the dough.”

The dough comes together quickly, though not without a few mishaps. Lia accidentally dumps too much sugar into the bowl, prompting a quick rescue mission from you and Leo. Lewis adds a bit too much molasses, which makes the dough stickier than it should be. But the laughter and teamwork make up for any imperfections.

When it’s time to roll out the dough, you dust the counter with flour and hand Lia a miniature rolling pin. She takes her job very seriously, rolling the dough with all her might, even if it’s uneven and full of tiny fingerprints.

“Look, Mommy! I’m a chef!” she announces proudly.

“You’re the best chef,” you reply, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Meanwhile, Leo focuses intently on cutting out shapes with the cookie cutters. He’s careful and precise, his tongue poking out in concentration as he presses a star-shaped cutter into the dough.

“Good job, buddy,” Lewis says, giving him a fist bump. “That’s a perfect star.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Leo says, beaming.

Of course, it’s not long before things start to spiral into delightful chaos. Lia, bored with rolling dough, begins decorating her face with flour, creating what she calls a “gingerbread mask.” Leo accidentally knocks over the bowl of sprinkles, sending colorful candies skittering across the floor. And Lewis, in his attempt to “help,” manages to get icing on his nose and eyebrows.

“You’re supposed to decorate the cookies, not yourself,” you tease, laughing as you wipe a smear of icing off his cheek.

“I’m just setting the vibe,” he quips, leaning in to kiss you. Before his lips can meet yours, Lia interrupts with a loud, “Ewwww, Mommy and Daddy are kissing!”

You and Lewis laugh, pulling apart but not before he winks at you. “We’ll finish that later,” he murmurs, low enough that only you can hear.

Finally, the cookies are ready to go into the oven. You let Leo and Lia take turns placing the tray in with Lewis supervising closely.

As the cookies bake, the smell of ginger and cinnamon fills the kitchen, making everyone’s mouth water. You’re wiping down the counter when Lia tugs on your sleeve.

“Mommy, can we make hot chocolate?” she asks sweetly, her flour-covered face tilted up at you.

“Of course we can,” you say, lifting her off the counter and setting her on the floor. “Let’s get the mugs.”

By the time the cookies are ready, the four of you are sitting at the table, sipping hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. The cookies, though slightly misshapen, are delicious, and Leo takes great pride in pointing out which ones he decorated.

“This one’s mine,” he says, holding up a star-shaped cookie covered in lopsided icing. “And that one’s Lia’s.”

“It’s so pretty,” Lia says, clapping her hands. “Just like me!”

Lewis bursts out laughing. “You’re not wrong, princess.”

As the evening winds down, you survey the mess in the kitchen: flour on the counters, sprinkles on the floor, and sticky fingerprints everywhere. But the sound of your children’s laughter and the sight of their frosting-smeared faces make it all worth it.

“We’re definitely doing this again next year,” Lewis says, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Absolutely,” you agree, leaning into him.

The kids, now on a sugar high, start a game of tag around the table, their giggles echoing through the house.

Charles

The twins are perched on either side of the kitchen island, their little hands eager to dive into the pile of cookie cutters and bowls of colorful icing. Jules, ever the perfectionist, carefully lines up the cutters, his brow furrowed in concentration. Alessandro, on the other hand, is already elbow-deep in the flour, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Papa, is it like this?" Jules asks, holding up a perfectly shaped gingerbread man. Charles leans over, his green eyes sparkling with pride. "C'est parfait, Jules! You’re a natural."

You’re busy rolling out another sheet of dough when Alessandro lets out a frustrated huff. "Mine broke!" he exclaims, holding up a decapitated gingerbread man. Tears threaten to spill as he glares at the dough.

Before you or Charles can intervene, Jules slides his own gingerbread man over to his twin. "Here, Ale. You can have mine. I’ll make another one," he says softly, his tone filled with understanding.

The gesture melts your heart. Charles places a hand on your back, his expression a mix of pride and tenderness as he watches his sons. "They’re good boys," he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Alessandro sniffs, accepting the cookie with a shy smile. "Thanks, Jules. You’re the best brother."

The rest of the baking session goes smoothly, with Alessandro taking his time to mimic Jules’ careful technique. The boys work together to decorate their cookies, laughing as they sneak tastes of icing and sprinkles. Charles manages to snap a few candid photos, capturing the flour-streaked faces and genuine smiles that light up the room.

When the cookies are finally done, the twins proudly present their creations to you and Charles. "Look, Mama! Papa!" they say in unison, holding up their plates of colorful gingerbread men.

"Magnificent!" Charles declares, pulling the boys into a bear hug. "You two are master bakers."

You smile, wrapping your arms around your little family, your heart has never felt fuller.

Carlos

The kitchen is a whirlwind of chaos and laughter as your three little ones dive into the gingerbread-making process. Ruby, your five-year-old, takes charge immediately, carefully measuring out ingredients with her tongue poking out in concentration. Marco, who is four, is more interested in sneaking tastes of the dough, while Roman, your three-year-old, is determined to use every single cookie cutter at once.

"Mama, can I do the sprinkles now?" Ruby asks, holding up a shaker of red and green sprinkles. Before you can answer, Marco bumps into her, causing the shaker to topple over and coat the counter in a glittering mess.

"Marco!" Ruby scolds, her lower lip trembling as she surveys the ruined sprinkles.

"Sorry!" Marco says quickly, his big brown eyes wide with guilt. Roman, sensing the tension, toddles over to Ruby and wraps his little arms around her waist. "Don’t be sad, Ruby. We help," he says, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Marco nods earnestly, grabbing a dishcloth. "I’ll clean it up, Ruby!"

You exchange a look with Carlos, who is watching the scene unfold with a soft smile. "Our little team," he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

With Ruby’s spirits lifted, the three kids work together to fix the mess. Marco carefully wipes up the spilled sprinkles while Roman hands Ruby a new shaker. "Here, Ruby. You do it better," he says, his tiny voice full of sincerity.

Carlos crouches down to help Ruby and Marco roll out the dough again, his hands guiding theirs as they press the cutters into the soft surface. Roman, meanwhile, has discovered the joy of throwing flour into the air, creating a fine white mist that settles over everyone.

"Roman!" Carlos exclaims, laughing as he tries to stop the little boy. But Roman is too quick, and soon even Carlos’ dark hair is dusted with flour.

By the time the cookies are finally baked and decorated, the kitchen looks like a tornado has passed through. But as you sit on the floor with Carlos and the kids, nibbling on warm gingerbread and sharing stories, the mess feels like a small price to pay for such a perfect family moment.

Max

The kitchen feels extra cozy as little Mia, your three-year-old daughter, toddles up to the counter on her step stool. She clutches a rolling pin almost as big as her, her tiny tongue peeking out in concentration.

"Dada, I’m making a big cookie!" Mia announces, pressing down on the dough with all her strength. Max chuckles, standing beside her. "A big cookie for a big girl, right?"

You’re sifting flour when Mia suddenly sneezes. A puff of flour rises into the air, landing on her nose and cheeks. Her eyes go wide in surprise before she bursts into a fit of giggles.

"Dada! I’m white!" she exclaims, pointing to her face. Max grins and taps her nose with his finger, adding another smudge of flour. "Now you look like a snowman!"

"Mama, I’m a snowman!" Mia declares, holding out her arms for you to see. You laugh, wiping your hands on a towel before leaning in to kiss her floury cheek. "The cutest snowman I’ve ever seen."

As Mia works on her giant cookie, Max decides to get creative. He scoops a bit of icing and dabs it on your nose, earning a playful glare from you. "Max!"

"What? It’s Christmas spirit!" he says innocently, though his mischievous grin gives him away.

Before long, the kitchen turns into a playful battlefield. Mia joins in, flinging tiny handfuls of flour at both you and Max. Her giggles echo through the room as Max lifts her up, spinning her around to evade your “retaliation” with a handful of sprinkles.

When the cookies are finally in the oven, the three of you are covered head to toe in flour, sprinkles, and icing. Mia sits on Max’s lap at the kitchen table, munching on a leftover piece of dough. "Dada, can we eat the cookies now?" she asks, her blue eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Soon, angel," Max says, brushing a strand of flour-dusted hair out of her face. "First, they have to bake."

As you all wait, you take a moment to snap a photo of your messy but happy little family. The kitchen might need serious cleaning, but the memories made within its walls are priceless. Once the cookies are out of the oven, cooled, and decorated with Mia’s enthusiastic smears of icing and an overload of sprinkles, she proudly holds up her "big cookie."

"Look, Mama! Dada! My cookie is so pretty!" she beams, her little chest puffed out with pride.

"It’s the best cookie I’ve ever seen," Max says earnestly, leaning down to kiss her cheek. You nod in agreement, wrapping an arm around both of them.

"Absolutely. This one’s going in the family hall of fame," you tease, already planning to snap another picture. The three of you sit down to enjoy the sweet treats together, your hearts full despite the flour-coated chaos surrounding you.

Lando

The kitchen is a whirlwind of flour, sugar, and laughter as you and Lando attempt to make gingerbread cookies with your four-year-old daughter, Celeste. Standing on her little stool by the counter, she’s already covered in flour from head to toe, her tiny hands eagerly grabbing at the cookie cutters. Lando leans close to her, his face alight with a mixture of amusement and pure adoration.

“Alright, baby,” Lando says, handing her a star-shaped cutter. “Press it down nice and hard, just like this.” He demonstrates with a gingerbread man cutter, and Celeste mimics him with all the determination of a toddler on a mission.

“I did it!” she announces proudly, holding up her slightly lopsided star. Her big green eyes shine as she turns to you for approval.

“That’s perfect, baby girl,” you say, brushing a bit of flour off her nose. “You’re a natural baker.”

Celeste beams, and Lando’s grin widens as he grabs another piece of dough. “She takes after me,” he teases, earning an eye roll from you. “What can I say? Talent runs in the family.”

“Oh, does it?” you reply, arching a brow as you sprinkle a little flour onto his cheek. Lando gasps dramatically, grabbing a handful of flour and tossing it into the air like confetti. Celeste squeals with laughter, clapping her hands and sending a puff of flour everywhere.

“Lando!” you scold, though you’re laughing too.

“What? She started it,” he says, pointing at Celeste, who giggles even harder.

When the cookies are finally in the oven, the three of you sit at the table with bowls of icing and sprinkles. Lando takes one look at the little tray of cookies and shakes his head. “I think these might be the most... abstract gingerbread cookies ever made.”

Celeste holds up a cookie she’s decorated with three blobs of icing and a pile of red sprinkles. “It’s a snowman!” she says proudly.

Lando’s face softens, and he nods. “The best snowman I’ve ever seen,” he says, leaning over to kiss her flour-dusted cheek.

You watch as Celeste happily eats her cookie, her tiny teeth nibbling away at the edges. Lando’s eyes never leave her, his expression so full of love it makes your heart ache. “She’s perfect,” he murmurs, reaching over to tuck a stray curl behind her ear.

As Celeste finishes her cookie, Lando scoops her up into his arms, spinning her around until she’s giggling uncontrollably. He plants kisses all over her face, making her squeal and squirm. “Daddy, stop! It tickles!”

“Never!” Lando declares, holding her close and laughing along with her.

By the end of the evening, the kitchen is a complete mess, but you wouldn’t trade the chaos for anything. With Celeste snuggled up between you and Lando on the couch, her tiny hand clutching a gingerbread star, you feel like the luckiest family in the world.

Oscar

The kitchen is calm but buzzing with a quiet excitement as your twins, four-year-old Odessa and Ocean, stand on their step stools by the counter. Odessa’s brows are furrowed in deep concentration as she carefully presses a gingerbread man cutter into the rolled-out dough. Ocean, on the other hand, is humming a Christmas tune, sprinkling flour on her side of the counter with as much flair as possible.

"Mommy, look! Mine has arms this time!" Odessa says proudly, holding up her perfectly shaped cookie. You smile and nod, brushing a bit of flour from her cheek.

"Great job, honeybun! You’re getting really good at this."

Oscar, standing nearby with a mixing bowl in hand, chuckles softly. "'s precision is unmatched," he says, ruffling Odessa’s dark brown curls before turning to Ocean. "And Ocean, are you making snow angels or cookies?"

Ocean giggles, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Both!" she declares, throwing a puff of flour into the air. It lands on her hair, turning her into a mini snow queen.

Oscar shakes his head, amused, and places the bowl down to help. "Alright, let’s focus on the cookies before we lose the rest of the flour," he says, guiding Ocean’s tiny hands to press a star cutter into the dough.

"Daddy, do you like stars or trees better?" Ocean asks, glancing up at him.

Oscar pretends to think for a moment. "Hmm, I think I like stars better because they remind me of you and Odessa—my two brightest stars."

Odessa rolls her eyes in good-natured embarrassment. "Papa, that’s so cheesy."

You laugh, nudging Odessa gently. "Sometimes cheesy is good, honey."

As the cookies bake in the oven, the four of you sit at the table, readying bowls of icing and sprinkles for decorating. Odessa picks up a piping bag, her little hands steady as she carefully outlines her gingerbread man’s shirt. Ocean, meanwhile, goes for an avant-garde approach, covering her cookie with every color of icing she can reach.

"Ocean, your gingerbread man looks like a rainbow exploded on him," Odessa comments, tilting her head as she examines her work.

"It’s called art," Ocean replies with a dramatic flip of her flour-dusted hair.

Oscar hides a grin behind his hand, leaning over to whisper to you. "She’s got your sass."

You laugh softly, watching your little ones pour their hearts into their creations. When the cookies are finally finished, Odessa presents her gingerbread man with a proud grin. "Look, Daddy, it’s you!"

Oscar inspects the cookie’s neat icing tie and buttoned shirt, his eyes crinkling with delight. "Wow, Odessa. You’ve made me look very handsome."

"And this one’s Mommy!" Ocean chimes in, holding up a colorful cookie that’s practically drowning in sprinkles.

You gasp playfully. "Ocean, I’ve never looked better."

The evening ends with all four of you sitting on the couch, enjoying your gingerbread creations and a Christmas movie playing softly in the background. Odessa leans against Oscar’s side, and Ocean cuddles in your lap, both happily munching on their cookies. As the glow of the Christmas tree lights flickers across the room, you catch Oscar’s eye. He smiles at you, the warmth in his gaze saying everything words can’t.

The kitchen may be clean now, the flour swept away and the cookie cutters put back in their drawers, but the memory of this perfect family moment will linger long after the last crumb is gone.

Sebastian

The kitchen is lively with chatter as Sebastian stands at the counter, helping your children, Tommy, Jamie, and Ambria, shape gingerbread cookies. Jamie, determined to make the perfect reindeer, furrows his brows in concentration while Ambria giggles, sprinkling flour onto the table—and accidentally onto Sebastian’s hair.

"Ambria," Sebastian says in mock seriousness, brushing flour off his curls, "are you trying to turn me into a snowman?"

Ambria bursts into laughter. "You’d make the best snowman, Papa!" she declares, tossing another puff of flour into the air. Jamie snickers, but his focus remains on his dough.

"Alright, alright," you interject, smiling as you place a tray of freshly shaped cookies onto the counter. "Let’s save some flour for the actual baking, shall we?"

Sebastian grins at you, his green eyes sparkling. "They’re creative, what can I say?"

The oven hums as the first batch of cookies bakes, filling the air with the warm, spiced scent of gingerbread. Jamie and Ambria lean against the counter, eagerly watching the timer count down.

"Papa," Jamie says, glancing up at Sebastian, "why do we always make gingerbread cookies at Christmas?"

Sebastian kneels to Jamie’s level, his hands resting on his son’s flour-dusted shoulders. "Because it’s a tradition," he explains gently. "It’s something we do together as a family, so that every Christmas, we can remember these moments."

Ambria tilts her head thoughtfully. "Like a memory we can eat?"

Sebastian chuckles, pulling her into a hug. "Exactly, my little philosopher."

When the cookies are done, the decorating begins. Ambria meticulously decorates each cookie with colorful icing and sprinkles, while Jamie opts for a simpler approach, carefully outlining each one. Sebastian joins in, creating a gingerbread version of each family member.

"This one’s Mama," he says, holding up a cookie with icing hair that matches yours. "Beautiful, just like the real thing."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Seb."

Later, as the cookies cool, the four of you sit around the Christmas tree with mugs of hot chocolate, the lights casting a soft glow around the room. Ambria snuggles into Sebastian’s side, her head resting on his shoulder, while Jamie leans against your arm, holding a gingerbread cookie shaped like a snowman.

"These are the best cookies we’ve ever made," Ambria declares, her voice sleepy but content.

Sebastian smiles, pressing a kiss to her hair. "That’s because we made them together," he says softly, his gaze meeting yours.

In that moment, surrounded by warmth, laughter, and the scent of gingerbread, you realize that these simple traditions, messy, flour-filled, and full of love, are what make the holidays truly magical.

Jenson

Your home is filled with the chaos and warmth only a family of seven can create. The kitchen is a whirlwind of activity as your five children—eleven-year-old Orion, nine-year-old Brandon, eight-year-old Killian, four-year-old Isabella, and one-year-old Luna—all take their positions around the counter. Jenson stands at the center, his sleeves rolled up and a mischievous grin on his face, ready to lead the troops.

“Alright, everyone,” Jenson announces, clapping his hands. “We’re making gingerbread cookies. Team Button, are you ready?”

“Yes!” Orion and Brandon shout, already reaching for the flour and rolling pins. Killian grabs a handful of cookie cutters, examining them with the precision of a race engineer. Isabella bounces on her stool, her excitement contagious as she claps her flour-dusted hands. Luna, perched safely in her highchair, babbles happily, smacking her little fists against the tray.

You laugh, standing back for a moment to watch the organized chaos unfold. “This is either going to be amazing or a complete disaster,” you say, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter.

Jenson winks at you. “It’ll be both,” he replies confidently.

Orion, the eldest and self-appointed leader of the kids, takes charge of measuring the ingredients. “Dad, do we really need this much cinnamon?” he asks, holding up the spice jar.

Jenson pretends to think deeply. “Hmm, cinnamon makes everything better, so maybe add just a little more.”

Brandon nudges Orion with a smirk. “He just wants an excuse to eat more cookies.”

Killian, meanwhile, has commandeered the cookie cutters and is lining them up in a perfect row. “We need a reindeer, a star, and a Christmas tree,” he declares. “And maybe a race car, if we can make one.”

“A race car?” Jenson grins, his eyes lighting up. “That’s my boy.”

Isabella, not to be outdone, grabs a rolling pin and starts flattening the dough with all her might. “I’m making the biggest cookie ever!” she announces, her tiny hands working with determination. You step in to help guide her efforts, laughing as she sticks her tongue out in concentration.

As the dough begins to take shape, Luna decides she’s had enough of just watching. She smacks her tray again, this time sending a puff of flour into the air.

“Luna wants to help too,” you say, lifting her out of the highchair and handing her a soft piece of dough to squish in her tiny fists. She giggles, smearing it across her cheeks like war paint.

“She’s starting her own cookie war,” Jenson jokes, snapping a picture on his phone.

Once the cookies are cut and placed on baking sheets, the decorating begins. Orion and Brandon focus on intricate designs, their competitive streaks coming out as they try to outdo each other. Killian, ever the perfectionist, takes his time with each cookie, ensuring every sprinkle is in its rightful place. Isabella opts for a more abstract approach, piling on as much icing and candy as possible. Luna, of course, eats more sprinkles than she applies, her little face sticky with sugar.

“Look at this one,” Jenson says, holding up a gingerbread man with a green icing bow tie. “This is Uncle Lewis. What do you think?”

The kids burst into laughter. “He needs sunglasses!” Orion suggests, grabbing black icing to add the finishing touch.

When the cookies are finally done and cooling on the racks, the kitchen looks like a snowstorm of flour and sugar has hit it. Jenson surveys the mess with a chuckle. “Well, we might need a pit crew to clean this up.”

“I’ll help, Dad,” Brandon volunteers, grabbing a dishcloth.

“Me too!” Killian chimes in, his perfectionist tendencies extending to tidying up.

As the cleaning begins, you notice Isabella carefully placing her cookies on a plate. “These are for Santa,” she explains, her voice serious. “He needs the best ones.”

“And these are for us,” Orion says, holding up a tray. “Because we’re the best cookie makers in the world.”

Jenson wraps an arm around you, pulling you close as you watch your children’s teamwork and laughter. “We did good, didn’t we?” he murmurs.

You nod, leaning into him. “Yeah, we really did.”

That night, after the kids are tucked into bed, you and Jenson sit by the Christmas tree, sharing a plate of gingerbread cookies and a quiet moment together. The chaos of the day lingers in the best way, filling your heart with warmth and love.

“Same time next year?” Jenson asks, a playful glint in his eye.

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “Definitely.”

𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽! ❥☽ @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @Formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @blakesbearblog @cel-b @perfumejamal @aykxz98 @pandora-08 @teti-menchon0604 @bxtosa @fadingcloudballoon-blog @whatevenisthisxxxxx @anamiad00msday @luula @jimcarreyfann42 @oliviah-25 @bbwzrld @goldenroutledge @unkownmystery_22 @sophienorris18-blog @flowerpetalk @paucubarsisimp @its-elias-world @magixpracticality @poppyflower-22 @pear-1206

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wcters · 2 months ago

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𝗖𝗛𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗠𝗔𝗦 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: what christmas looks like with you and lando

warnings: established relationships, sexual innuendos, wanted to give you something for christmas and as an apology for not getting all of the 1k celebration requests out !!! going though a bit of writers block :((( | christmas is almost here !!!! merry christmas and happy holidays if you don’t celebrate christmas🎄 , wanted to get a little something out before the holidays, hope everyone has a good time with friends and family !!!!

- first of all, you take christmas very seriously

- you’re not one of those people who set the tree up super early, you wait till remembrance day or american thanksgiving, but you still plan it out

- you have a planned tree aesthetic for now, when you guys are older and have kids then you’ll let them decorate, but for now it’s you and lando

- if lando isn’t there with you while you set it up, you will get the christmas tree up by yourself ‼️

- #independentwoman

- sooooo many decorations

- like you move some of lando’s mini helmets (sorry) to fit them

- you’ve got snow globes, garlands, mini christmas trees

- all of it 🎄⛸️🎁

- you’ve definitely made one of his mini helmets into a snow globe

- christmas flannel bedsheets and bedset

- binge watching christmas movies 🎥

- complete with charcuterie boards, wine, cookies you made

- LOVE christmas baking ‼️

- if it exists, you make it

- shortbread (my grandad made the best), snickerdoodles, gingerbread, peppermint, sugar cookies, etc

- that mostly consists of you baking and lando helping when you tell him too . . . and eating the batter while you slap his hand away

- you also cook a lot as well

- especially soups, you miss soup season 🥣

- music always coming from the kitchen

- lando just likes to watch you sometimes, other times he’ll start to dance with you

- when his hands start to wander (cause you know they will), you push him away and he gets sad

- MATCHING PYJAMAS

- if you have a pet or something, matching with them as well

- you love gift giving so you love going shopping for things 🛒

- we all know you help lando get gifts for people 🎁

- you spoil mila and athena 🥺

- we all saw the car lando got her BEFORE she was born, you go all out

- go out for any young kids in your family as well

- going out to christmas markets with him, max, and pietra ❄️

- sometimes it’s just you and pietra as the boys are big losers

- soooo many pictures being taken

- some for online, but most are for you to keep ❤️

- skating with each other ⛸️

- though it’s mostly lando holding your hands and helping you balance while you yell ‘lando!’ when you get scared or nervous

- trips to the alps with friends

- over the years you’ve learned to ski and you think you’ve gotten pretty good 😌

- so many nights of you and lando sitting together by the fire, blanket in top of you, max taking pictures because he finds the face lando makes when he’s sleeping hilarious

- you love taking baths, but especially during christmas time 🛁

- you and lando love having baths together after longs days and talk about what you’ve missed

- every soap is christmas themed, dish towels, pillows, you’re serious about this time of year

- each year you switch which persons house you’ll be spending christmas eve at

- you spend time with the others family as well but it switches for christmas eve

- if you decide to spend christmas eve at your house, you have traditions

- KARAOKE 🎤

- making christmas dinner together

- fighting over who makes what

- “i’ll take care of the turkey and stuffing while you take the carrot cake”

- “but i want to do the stuffing!”

- “you always burn it”

- “that is such lies”

- dancing in the kitchen 🕺

- at the end of the night you’re PLASTERED

- best sleep ever, though you are very excited for christmas day

- even more excited if you are spending it with family though ‼️

- you and lando are woken up to mila jumping in your bed and savannah coming in to grab her while apologizing profusely

- you just laugh it off and tell her not to worry while getting up because lando never likes to wake up that early on christmas

- you help make breakfast with sav and cisca while oliver helps when needed though he’s mostly playing with mila and athena with adam 🥺

- one of your favourite images is lando on christmas morning: his hair messy in the best way, the morning glow . . . when he goes to stretch and his stomach and the lining of his underwear show 😉

- you have breakfast first (obviously with some complaints from the kids) but you adults need coffee to get through the morning

- lando eats a lot because he doesn’t have to be on his diet

- after that it’s time for presents !!!!!! 🎁

- for some gifts you coordinate with sav and oliver so they go together

- lando sits on the couch and if you’re not on the ground with the girls you’re with him, back against his chest as you watch with so much love in your eyes

- you do the adults gifts on the side because you all want the attention on the girls

- lando LIVES and lives to spoil you

- he does all year, don’t get me wrong, but at christmas? it’s another level

- he waits till you guys are back at your house or alone when he gives you all the super expensive ones because you KNOW this man spends a ridiculous amount of money on you 💵💵

- you love to see everyone’s faces when they see their presents

- especially cisca and adam’s when they receive their vacation tickets

- spend the day catching up and doing family things

- the girls obviously have a gossip session about what’s been going on 💅

- naps when you both get home

- you are SPENT since you aren’t used to that much energy

- spend the next day together and giving each other the presents you got for each other

- lots of hugs, kisses, smiles, and cheeky jokes

- it’s mostly a lazy day after the last couple of days of getting ready

- just being close and spending time with each other ❤️ gives you guys a slow moment in your fast paced lives

- obviously visit max and pietra while you are in the UK

- gift exchanging as you do every year, though it’s mostly you going overboard with gifts for them and their dog 🐕

- again, gossip sesh with pietra filled with drama and wine

- just a great time of year where you get to catch up with friends and family and be together in each other presence ❤️

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maidragoste · 3 months ago

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Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Can we pretend I posted this yesterday? lol

Please if you like it don't hesitate to like, leave a comment and share 🥰🥰💖💖

If you have any more ideas for other drabbles please send them to my inbox 🤗💖

Anyway I hope you have a good read!

Aemond felt his body relax as he entered his house. It was warm there, nothing like the cold outside, and he could smell vanilla from the entrance. He smiled thinking that he would soon be able to try one of your wonderful cookies. He had been looking forward to that since you sent him pictures of you and the kids baking while he was at work.

Aemond hurriedly took off his coat and then went to the kitchen.

“Mmm, smells good,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention. You, Naerys, and Daella stopped decorating their cookies while Baelon stopped eating the frosting on the sly.

“Kepa!” Baelon, Naerys, and Daella shouted happily.

Your husband first greeted each of his children with a kiss on the forehead and then went to kiss you.

“Welcome home,” you smiled on his lips while he placed one of his hands on your lower back just to touch you. “How was your day?”

“Good” he replied and was about to grab one of the undecorated cookies when Baelon slapped him. “Why was that?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You can't eat until they're decorated,” the boy replied.

“Baelon is right, kepa,” said Daella supporting her brother.

“We were waiting for you to make the trees. Muña says you're better at decorating them,” said Naerys.

“Okay, okay. First, we'll decorate, and then we'll eat,” he agreed, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Baelon, stop eating the icing because otherwise we'll be left without decorations.”

“Baelon!” his sisters shouted angrily.

Before a fight between the children began, Aemond took a sleeve of green icing and began to show them how he decorated the trees. You watched fondly as he took the time to make a cookie with each of your children and complimented them on their work. Aemond pretended not to notice as you took pictures of them, surely you would show them later.

At one point, while Baelon, Daella, and Naerys were busy competing to see who could decorate the best, you motioned for your husband to come to your side. Aemond was quick to do so and smiled as he watched you hand him a cookie from under the counter. With his back to the children and making sure they couldn’t see him, he quickly took a bite. He savored the sugar and vanilla.

“Delicious, as always,” he said before kissing you.

Taglist for all my House of the Dragon works

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@decaffeinatedparadisepost @lidivi @alixxhere @xinyourdreamsx

hotd masterlist

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amourquinn · 2 months ago

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( short fic ) everything

pairing : boyfriend!quinn x fem!reader wc. 1.2k

genre : extreme fluff no warnings

summary : you and quinn spend christmas eve together and it ends with a beautiful surprise

the apartment smelled like sugar and cinnamon, warm and inviting. the faint hum of a christmas playlist played in the background, filling the air with soft jingles and cheerful tunes. it was december 24, and your favorite tradition with quinn hughes was in full swing: decorating cookies.

you sat cross-legged at the kitchen island, armed with piping bags filled with brightly colored icing, sprinkles scattered across the counter. quinn stood across from you, wearing an apron he’d claimed he didn’t need—though his flour-dusted hands and icing-streaked cheek suggested otherwise.

“alright, quinn-casso,” you teased, pointing at the lopsided tree he’d just decorated. the green icing was uneven, and the star looked more like a blob.

he held it up, feigning offense. “what? this is art. you just don’t get it.”

you laughed, snapping a picture with your polaroid camera. the flash caught him mid-eye-roll, flour still smudged on his cheek.

“add it to the collection,” you said, shaking the photo and setting it on the counter to develop.

the collection was an assortment of candid photos you’d been taking all month—quinn tangled in christmas lights, the two of you picking out a tree, him wearing the santa hat you’d forced on him. the pictures were scattered on the fridge, a chaotic but charming timeline of your holiday season together.

“fine,” quinn said, grabbing another cookie. “but if you’re going to document this, i’m going to make the best-looking snowman you’ve ever seen.”

you leaned on your elbow, watching him carefully pipe white icing onto the cookie. his tongue poked out slightly in concentration, a detail that made your heart swell.

“not bad,” you admitted as he added tiny sprinkle buttons.

“‘not bad’? that’s perfection,” he said, placing it on the tray with a satisfied grin.

you shook your head, laughing softly. “i guess i’ll give you that one.”

the two of you worked through the tray of cookies, decorating everything from candy canes to reindeer. you captured moments on your polaroid as you went: quinn sticking sprinkles on his nose to make you laugh, you holding up a cookie shaped like a heart, and the tray of finished cookies, a chaotic mix of skill and whimsy.

when the cookies were done, you both collapsed onto the couch with mugs of hot chocolate. the christmas tree twinkled softly in the corner, the ornaments catching the glow of the lights.

“i think we outdid ourselves this year,” quinn said, holding up a cookie shaped like a stocking.

“speak for yourself,” you teased, holding up one of your own. “mine are way better.”

he rolled his eyes, nudging your shoulder with his. “you’re lucky i love you.”

you smiled, leaning into him. “i know.”

⋆˙⟡

as the night wore on, the stack of polaroids grew. quinn had taken over the camera at some point, snapping pictures of you mid-laugh or caught off guard. one photo in particular made you laugh—a close-up of your face, icing smeared on your cheek.

“quinn! i wasn’t ready for that one!”

“that’s the point,” he said, smirking.

eventually, it was time for the part of the evening you both looked forward to the most: exchanging gifts.

“okay,” you said, hopping off the couch and grabbing a small, neatly wrapped box from under the tree. “you first.”

quinn set his mug down, his eyes lighting up as he took the box. “you know you didn’t have to get me anything, right?”

“yeah, yeah,” you said, waving him off. “just open it.”

he carefully unwrapped the box, lifting the lid to reveal a vintage hockey puck encased in glass. his jaw dropped.

“is this…”

you nodded, grinning. “it’s from your first-ever college game. i found it online, and the guy who had it was willing to sell. i thought you’d want to have it.”

he stared at it for a moment, his fingers brushing the glass. “this is amazing. thank you.”

his voice was soft, and when he looked up at you, his expression was full of gratitude. he set the puck down and leaned over to kiss you, his lips warm and lingering against yours.

“alright,” he said, pulling back. “your turn.”

he stood and grabbed a box from behind the tree. it was big, wrapped in shiny gold paper with a perfectly tied bow.

“wow,” you said, taking it from him. “someone went all out.”

“just open it,” he said, his grin mischievous.

you tore into the paper, lifting the lid to reveal… a polaroid camera. not just any camera, though—it was a custom design, your initials etched into the side, and the strap was embroidered with tiny snowflakes.

“quinn,” you breathed, running your fingers over the details.

“i know how much you love taking pictures,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “so i thought you’d like something a little more special.”

you set the box aside and threw your arms around him, holding him tightly. “it’s perfect. thank you.”

for a moment, the two of you just stood there, wrapped in each other. the night felt perfect, like something out of a storybook.

“actually…” quinn pulled back slightly, a nervous edge to his voice.

“what?” you asked, your brow furrowing.

he reached into his pocket, and he took out a neatly wrapped box. it wasn’t the biggest gift, but there was something about the way he held it, his expression a mix of nerves and excitement, that made your heart race.

“quinn…” you started, but he cut you off with a small smile.

“here.”

you unwrapped the box carefully, lifting the lid to reveal a delicate silver ring. It wasn’t flashy, but it was beautiful, a small diamond set into the band, understated and perfect. your breath caught in your throat.

“it’s not what you think,” quinn said quickly, rubbing his left arm. it’s not… you know, that ring. not yet, anyway.”

you looked up at him, your heart pounding. “so it’s—”

“it’s a promise ring,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “i know we’re not there yet, but i wanted you to know how serious i am about us. that i want this—you—for the long haul. this is my way of saying i’m all in, even if we’re not at the finish line yet.”

tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you stared at him, at the boyish grin on his face and the sincerity in his eyes.

“quinny…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“i love you,” he said, reaching for your hand. “and i just wanted you to know that.”

you nodded, a tear slipping down your cheek as you let him slide the ring onto your finger. “i love you too. so much.”

he let out a breath, relief washing over his face as he pulled you into his arms. for a moment, the world outside disappeared, leaving just the two of you wrapped in each other.

when you finally pulled back, you held up your hand, admiring the ring. “this is perfect. you’re perfect.”

quinn smiled, brushing a thumb over your cheek. “i wouldn’t say perfect. my cookies were… mediocre.”

you laughed, swatting his arm. “hey, don’t ruin the moment.”

the night went on, filled with more moments that you knew you’d treasure forever. and as you sat there, leaning against quinn with the soft glow of the tree around you, you couldn’t help but think that this christmas was everything you’d ever wanted—and more.

#[ 📁 ] short fic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #nhl hockey #vancouver canucks

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nonranghaes · 4 months ago

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heads up: food (cupcakes).

minho can smell that you've been baking from the moment he walks into the apartment. it's a smell he's used to coming home to, whether it be brownies or bread or just a batch of sugar cookies you felt like making. he always smiles a little bit at it when he swoops down to greet doongie again, scratching him behind the ears as he coos at the cats before he greets you again.

but tonight, you're waiting for him. that sweet smell is in the air, and you're smiling at him, completely giddy. "hi."

he kneels down to pet doongie, who has taken it upon himself to fuss at him. "hi?"

"happy birthday." you step forward, leaning over to kiss him when he stands up again. "c'mere. i wanna show you something."

who is he to deny you when you're smiling at him like that? you take him by the hand, guiding him to the kitchen, already talking about how you were going to save the surprise for later... but you couldn't resist show him now.

carefully plated are half a dozen of cupcakes. three of them are decorated in the usual pretty way you do them, mint-colored swirls with pretty sprinkles atop them. but the other three are carefully decorated in a way he's seen you do before: icing flattened down into a workable surface, and your three cats recreated as best as you can in icing form.

how long did that take? soonie and doongie were probably a bit easier, but dori, too? he's already looking at you, heart swelling in his chest. you love them just as much as he does, and you love him even more.

he doesn't think. he just kisses you, smiling into it. "thank you," he says. other times, he might have teased you about making his (well, yours in the combined sense) children edible. but not this time. not when you still have that little bit of uncertainty to you, the giddiness masking over it well enough for other people to have not seen. but not minho. minho knows you. "i love them."

"yeah?" your eyes are sparkling a little bit now, hands resting on his shoulders. "good. you deserve something nice like this."

he thinks he already has that in you. but he'll save the cheesy things for later. "i love you," he says, kissing you again, mumbling his thanks against your lips again, already tasting the faint buttercream from when you must have sampled it.

(but it's not as sweet as you, in his very humble opinion.)

#nonranghaes.thoughts #stray kids x you #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz fluff #skz imagine #skz x reader #skz imagines #nonranghaes.skz #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #lee minho fluff #lee minho x reader

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wizzdot · 5 months ago

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*short fic alert* (fic under page break)

Hear me out. Is this….John Price?!

The 141 get home late from a mission, Johnny and Gaz go straight to the showers and Simon slinks off to wherever it is he winds down after a tough few days.

You have been sat on the proverbial bench for the past few weeks with a bullet wound to the shoulder. While rendered useless to the team, you decide to take up a new hobby. So far, the boys have been lab rats for the taste tests of whatever concoction you pull from the oven.

The burnt cookies (that you’d forgotten to put eggs in) that Kyle had whined about almost breaking his perfect teeth. Johnny managed to gobble them up and didn’t seem to understand what the problem was, leading Simon to joke that the man had no taste buds.

Or the time you accidentally used Salt instead of Sugar in the Victoria Sponge cake. Kyle subtlety threw his slice in the bin while you weren’t looking making sounds as if he had enjoyed in. Johnny ate it, making it look so delicious that you were getting confident that your baking skills were finally improving. Simon took a slice back to his room and in the privacy of his own bed, took a bite, and immediately spat it down the toilet. “Christ Almighty, that fuckin’ twat really doesn’t have taste buds” he cursed.

You perfect your skills over the next couple of weeks, with Johnny and Kyle remaining endlessly supportive of your new venture. But the entire time, John avoids your baking attempts.

“Need to watch my weight, love”

“Wish I could have a bite, but I’m on a diet, sweetheart”

“Can’t afford to pile on the pounds at my age, Dove”

They are John’s favourite excuses. You won’t admit it, but it makes you sad. You want to make all of your boys happy. Also, he isn’t even that old for gods sake.

Simon knows that the Captain is avoiding your god awful attempts. But even Simon notices that your skills are slowly improving. He keeps sneaking cupcakes and cookies into his room and this past week, especially, they’d been… alright. Well - apart from the horrifically deformed attempt of decorating a cake like Yoda. It looked like a slimy goblin with wonky eyes - but it tasted ok.

So picture this, they get home from a three day long mission. You’d missed your boys. You’d left your most recent cake on the kitchen counter before going to bed. You climb out from your bed when you hear their tired footsteps heading down the hall.

You poke your head out of the door. Johnny and Kyle come over and give you a soft hug. “Christ, you boys stink” you say. “Fuck off” Kyle laughs, before stripping himself of his shirt “gonna hop straight in the shower anyway. See you in the mornin’, yeah?” he asks. I nod and watch as he leaves towards his room.

Johnny stands, watching Kyle retreat. “I smell even worse than him, hen” he says, trying to shove your head into his armpit. You fight him off and shoo him down the hall.

Simon walks past and gives a small nod, “you might want to go and see Price. He made a beeline for the kitchen” he grumbles, continuing on his way casually.

That comment puts you on edge. Is John hurt? Is he looking for you? You quickly slide on your fluffy slippers and shuffle down to the kitchen as quickly as you can.

The scene that greets you is the last thing you expect to see. The Captain, in a wide stance, leaning one hand on the counter, devouring your Cake (the best one you’d baked so far!!!) with just a single fork. He’d polished off at least half of it, showing no signs of slowing down.

You can’t help but giggle at the scene. “Is it good…?”

“Fuckin’ hell, Love. It’s delicious”

The blush that erupts over your cheeks is immense.

“That was supposed to be shared..” you mumble.

“Not in a sharing mood” he says through a mouthful of cake.

“It’s rude to chew with your mouth open, Captain” you joke.

“Teach me some manners then, sweetheart” he teases, stabbing the fork into the top of the remaining quarter of cake before crowding into your personal space.

“Cakes almost as sweet as you” he whispers into your left ear before leaving the kitchen with a smug smile as you stand frozen in place.

“Oh, I’ve forgotten something!” He mentions from down the hall before turning back and snatching the cake box from the counter. He pauses on his way out, pecking you on the cheek and heading to his office as if that was totally normal behaviour.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t stand touching the spot that he’d kissed for half an hour after he’d left.

Your phone interrupts your frozen state. It’s a text from the group chat.

………..

Johnny: “Kyle, d’ya think Cap told her how he feels yet?”

………

Johnny: “c’mon ya cunt, don’t ignore my message. I know your out the shower I can hear you laughin through the wall”

………

Simon’s voice bellows throughout the hallway “wrong fuckin’ chat, you moron” followed by Kyle cackling and Johnny swearing loudly.

You’re still standing in the doorway of the kitchen, in shock, when the door to John’s office opens.

“Guess you saw that, eh?” he asks, sheepishly.

You nod your head, zoning in on a piece of icing on the corner of his mouth. As if on instinct, you reach up and wipe it with your finger, sticking it into your mouth, before freezing again, realising what you’d just done.

Johns eyes follow your finger, hungrily.

“If you wanted to taste it, you could’ve just asked, love”

#john price x reader #task force x reader #captain john price #price x reader #john price #task force 141 #cod x reader

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lemon-berri · 4 months ago

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Imagine Gojo Satoru with a partner who loves to bake...

Everyone knows this man has an abominable sweet tooth. He quite literally doesn't stop, sometimes you swear he has a bottomless pit where his stomach should be. How does he eat that much sugar and still look that good anyway?

But he's also a busy man. Oftentimes he works into the early hours of the morning, he doesn't sleep much, and what little free time he has he prefers to spend with you.

Satoru thinks he's the luckiest man alive. Not only is his sweet partner the most gorgeous person he's ever witnessed, not only do you take amazing care of him, but you also bake.

It's a common occurrence for him to wake up on the mornings to the smell of something sweet enticing him towards the kitchen. He finds you there. Usually you wake up bright and early so by the time he saunters out of bed you're already washing up. He always stops you. After all, you've been up putting your efforts into baking - it's only fair that he does the washing.

He loves to try the new recipes you attempt. Macaroons? He's inhaling those. Strawberry pie? Gone in one sitting. Once you made a Bruce cake, Satoru still swears that was the best day of his life.

He's definitely the type of partner who'd take interest in your hobbies. Seeing you happy makes him happy- why wouldn't he want to be a part of your joy? So sometimes you bake together. Albeit, to varying degrees of success.

Satoru tries his best, he really does. But he can't help the fact he's quite messy in the kitchen. Folding batter turns into a splashing mess of ingredients around the kitchen. His face is white with flour. How did he get icing on the ceiling?

But there are also the times it goes well. When he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and watches with interest how you decorate cupcakes with floral frosting. Or when you stir things together, your slow and steady pace mixed with his strength.

You kiss batter off his fingers to taste test your creations. While he leaves sweet kisses on your cheek where flour has somehow stained your beautiful skin. You both choose your favourite flavours and toppings together, and come up with all sorts of ideas on what to make. Whether chaotic or sweet, baking together is always more fun.

His heart melts when he finds the little treats you like to pack him with his lunch. A triple chocolate muffin, perhaps some cookies. Sometimes he finds cake pops decorated like various characters in there. And you leave him sweet notes to go along with it, ones that get him through any hard day.

The house always smells like sugar and the sweetest of fruits, the fridge is full to the brim with treats, and that sweet smile of yours is enough to give anyone a sugar rush. Ever since you came into his life, everything's been sweeter. And he wouldn't trade your dynamic for the world.

Dropping this and running away.

Once again this isn't proof read if you find any spelling errors please do hesitate to tell me.

Thank you for reading 🩵 ily all

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #my glorious blue eyed king #gojo fluff #gojo x reader fluff

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wholoveseggs · 2 months ago

Text

Gingerbread

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}{Five Days of Fluffmas}

{Stefan Salvatore x Reader} A gingerbread house competition with Stefan turns into a playful, sugary disaster! And maybe something sweeter than frosting...

♡♡Happy Fluffmas♡♡

1k words - Warnings: flufffff, holiday baking chaos, competitive banter, playful food fights, lots of sprinkles and sweetness...

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@origshipfan @cocoabliss @eternalnoble @darth-laeka

The aroma of fresh gingerbread and cinnamon filled the air as you walked into the Salvatore mansion. Stefan was already in the kitchen, a tray of gingerbread pieces laid out before him, a focused expression on his face. He looked up when you walked in and smiled warmly, beckoning for you to sit down across from him. You obliged, smiling back.

"I didn't take you for a baker," you teased as you sat down, picking up a gingerbread piece and inspecting it.

"Well, it's actually been a long time since I baked," Stefan admitted. "But, well, Christmas is my favorite time of the year, and I just...I thought it would be fun."

You looked around the kitchen and saw various cookie cutters and icing. There was a bunch of different candy for decorating, too.

"Are we making gingerbread houses?" you asked, your face lighting up.

"Yeah, if you want," he replied, a slight flush on his cheeks.

You let out a happy squeal and reached for a piece of gingerbread, trying to find the perfect piece. After a moment, you finally found one and set it down on the counter, ready to start decorating. Your expression was serious, your tongue sticking out slightly in concentration.

"What's on your mind?" He teased, pouring you a glass of whiskey and eggnog, which you gratefully took.

"I'm thinking about what style I want my gingerbread house to be."

He laughed. "Oh? And what's the plan?"

"I'm thinking I'm going to recreate your house, it has such interesting architecture." You grinned, looking around.

"That sounds like a fun idea. Why don't we have a little competition? Whoever makes the best house has to pay for dinner,”

"Oh, you're on," you said, grinning.

Stefan smiled. He grabbed a piece of gingerbread, placing a few more pieces next to it, and then carefully assembled a rough outline of the Salvatore mansion, which was quite impressive.

You began to carefully cut pieces of gingerbread to create the basic structure of the mansion, which was a challenge considering how old and intricate it was.

After a while, Stefan finished the outline and got to work on piping the roof with icing, creating intricate patterns on the surface. You looked up from your work, your eyes wide.

"You are irritatingly good at this," you grumbled, focusing back on your task.

"Don't be jealous," he said, smiling.

After about an hour of working, Stefan had finished the basic structure, and had begun to add candy as decorations, creating a very realistic and detailed look.

You, on the other hand, were struggling.

Your roof had collapsed several times, and you couldn't seem to get the front door right.

You groaned and leaned back in your chair, defeated. All of your design skills were wasted on sugar and confectionery.

"You alright over there?" Stefan asked, a slight smile on his lips.

"No, I suck."

"You don't suck," he reassured you. "Let me help you."

"How are you going to help me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged and leaned over you, piping a little bit of icing where you had failed.

You stared at him, a smile forming on your lips. His face was so close to yours that you could see each individual eyelash. You felt your cheeks warm up, but didn't move. You liked the closeness.

He continued working, his eyes focused on the gingerbread. You watched him, admiring his hands and the way he concentrated, his brow furrowed, his eyes squinted.

The nervous energy you felt from being so close to him, manifested as butterflies in your stomach. Your heart rate quickened, your breath hitched and you reached up and booped his nose with a dollop of icing.

He looked up, surprised, his eyes wide, and you grinned, licking the icing off your finger.

"Oh, you're asking for it," he warned playfully, taking the piping bag that was in his hand and flicking some icing at you.

It landed on your cheek, and you gasped, wiping it off, staring at him. He smiled innocently, shrugging, and then you retaliated, reaching for the container of sprinkles, grabbing a handful, and throwing it at him.

A cloud of sprinkles rained down on him, and you burst into laughter, unable to stop. He looked so cute, his face and hair covered in them.

He grinned, his eyes mischievous, and stood up, coming towards you. You squealed and jumped back, trying to run away. You tripped, landing directly on top of Stefan's gingerbread house.

Your laughter abruptly stopped as you stared at the damage, horrified. It was completely destroyed, pieces of gingerbread and candy scattered everywhere.

"Oops," you whispered, turning to look at Stefan.

He was laughing, his shoulders shaking, and you couldn't help but laugh, too.

"I guess I win, huh?" you asked, your laughter finally subsiding.

"Absolutely not," he said, a grin on his face. "Mine was better."

You gasped, feigning offense. "How dare you."

"It's true," he said, chuckling.

"It was not," you insisted, glaring at him. "You have no proof,"

"Was too," he argued, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Was not," you repeated, giggling and poking him in the chest.

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and your breath hitched as his face was once again close to yours.

You stared at him, your heart racing. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and he slowly leaned forward, giving you a chance to pull away. You didn't, your breath catching as his lips brushed against yours.

He kissed you, gently, tentatively, as if he wasn't sure how you would react. His lips were soft and sweet, and he tasted like sugar and spice and everything nice. You kissed him back, your hands resting on his shoulders, and you felt him relax, his hands gripping your hips tighter.

You pulled back, staring at him, and he stared back, his eyes searching yours.

"Stefan..." you whispered, unsure of what else to say.

He smiled, pulling you in for another kiss, and you happily obliged, losing yourself in the feel of his lips.

The gingerbread houses were long forgotten as Stefan pulled you upstairs, leaving a trail of icing and sprinkles behind.

#stefan salvatore #lissas fluffmas #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu #tvd #five days of fluffmas #christmas #fluff #gingerbread #stefan salvatore x reader #stefan salvatore fanfiction #stefan salvatore imagine #sweet sweet stefussy #stefussy sunday

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