#i hope you had a wonderful xmas
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formalmess · 1 year ago
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Hi! I found your fic LMTT and I LOVE IT! Love your Luigi x Peasley ness.
I was just curious: how do you write romance so well and healthy? I'm asking bc I may write more romance fics in the future, both Luigi x Peasley and Mario x Peach, but I'm nervous bc I don't write romance much. Was hoping for advice so that I can do these ships justice.
Hope you're doing well and Merry Christmas! Also, have a new follow!
hello!!! oh i am so glad you stumbled across my fic — i love writing it, so i am very glad you like reading it :] and oooh, i really like this question! i can offer a few bits and pieces of advice i've picked up along my writing journey...
first, know why YOU love your ships! for me, i've been passionate about luisley for about 7 years now, so i've had a lot of time to figure out why it's so special to me (also why it comes so easily in writing them). this kind of leads into a few of the other tips i'll mention, but it's important to know WHY you, personally, love the ships you ship. what is it about luisley and mareach that you love? whatever the answer is, use that to help guide your writing. for example, i love how peasley and luigi are opposites in many areas of their personalities, but also how those opposites can bring out the best in them when they're together. :]
don't forget the little details. subtlety is key! pick out some things for each of the characters you're writing about that only a significant other might notice, like in LMTT where i have peasley notice luigi's quirks (like his mustache when he lies). i find there's something so romantical about a partner (or partner to be) noticing the little things that others might overlook. you can make these up, go off of canon, etc. etc.! have fun with it ^-^
read, read, read! this appears in a lot of writing advice lists so i won't stick here too long and bore you, but reading others' ship/romance works really helps to get the inspiration train a-rolling, and it will also help you realize what you do and don't like!
don't be afraid to let them disagree a bit. for this, i'm referring to your additional adjective in your original question: healthy. something really important for fictional (and real) relationships is the ability to communicate and leave room for disagreements. healthy relationships don't need to be lovey-dovey 24/7; especially in longer fanfic, there are bound to be moments where the members of your ship will not agree (though this has not stopped me from writing pure tooth-rotting, lovey-dovey fluff one-shots at times in my life, haha). the way one represents how ships handle conflict opens the door to a lot of interesting and compelling dynamics, methinks! this pops up in LMTT as well a few times, like in chapter 2. (side note: this does not mean you should feel pressured to have your couple arguing every page, i only mean that you shouldn't shy away from a moment where, organically, you think the members of your ship might disagree and/or want to go down different paths)
experiment! see which tropes you like! play around with your characters! if you placed them in a white room together, could you write a natural conversation with them? what circumstances could you add to that white room that would increase their chemistry? what setting does your ship thrive in? what setting do they NOT thrive in? doing little one-shots and experimental paragraphs to test out what one does and does not like has always been a great way to not only see how i want to write something, but also to tell if it will be able to sustain a longer piece.
above all, have fun with it! i've found that if i try and avoid writing super calculated and stiff romance, it comes off as much more real and organic. this will take time and practice, but just remember to experiment, keep reading, find what you like, and continue to absorb why it is that you love the ships you ship. :]
happy writing!
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atompalace-official · 1 month ago
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❄️ a sweet Advent afternoon at the Atom Palace ✨ { my trainersona }
wishing you all a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! 🎄🎀🩵💕
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tempo-takoyaki · 1 month ago
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Merry Christmas!! I hope you all have a wonderful day <3
EDIT: I accidentally posted this too early but know this illustration is referring to a previous comic if you'd like to read it ! [Christmas 2023]
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killjoy-prince · 11 months ago
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House M.D. but it's when Wilson says House's name
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baronessvonglitter · 2 months ago
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Bad Santa
sleazy mall Santa!Joel Miller x fem!Reader
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Word count: 2.3K
Summary: Frantically seeking relief during the Christmas rush, the Santa at your local mall is the last person you'd expect to help.. and the only one who can.
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Reader is a hot and horny mess and wears a short skirt. Mall Santa is a perv, but he's your perv. Semi-public masturbation (f). Squirting. Cockwarming. Semi-public sex. Infidelity. Unprotected piv. Oral (m & f receiving). Analingus (f receiving). Possibly illegal use of a candy cane. Creampie. Come swallowing. Santa Joel is a menace and a sleaze but that's what we all need, right?
Author's Note: one of the first things I learned about @strang3lov3 is that we share a deep love for Bad Santa (and Billy Bob in general) so this is written in her honor. Bug, I hope you enjoy Santa Joel, and don't forget to leave out some cigs and whiskey for him on Xmas Eve. (And the latest edition of Hustler. He's an old-school magazine man.)
JOEL MILLER MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST
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You're home on Christmas break from college and all you want to do is fuck the boyfriend you left behind and have been faithful to for four long, painful months. But the only thing on Derek's mind is doing last minute Christmas shopping.
The mall on Christmas Eve is the last circle of hell.
Derek guides you through the crowd. "Sleigh Ride" plays over the speakers, tinny, bright and cheery. You hate it. You're impatient. You're horny. You need to find a way to get him alone, even just a fingerbang would suffice. For now.
You pass by the huge Christmas tree in the center where the mall Santa waits with bored-looking elves. There's no line, which is surprising given it's the last day for photo ops.
Santa watches as you pass, cheap plastic beard hanging off, revealing gray scruff, his red suit wrinkled and stained. You track his gaze roving over your figure, fully concentrating on the jiggle of your ass under the short skirt you'd picked out in the hopes of getting a quickie.
"God damn," you hear him mutter. "Merry Christmas, babygirl." he calls out.
You glance back and see him pull the beard down, wiggling his tongue at you in a lewd manner.
Fucking sleaze. But your pussy is wet and throbbing, and this is the first bit of attention you've had all day. You respond by stuffing your tongue in your cheek and making a blow job motion. Santa licks his lips and subtly palms his cock over his fluffy red pants.
Derek, oblivious, is walking you towards a department store.
"Mommy said she'd like a new bathrobe for Christmas," he says, bringing you past the awful perfume and makeup counters. You heard right.. Mommy. What the fuck?
"Didn't you already buy her a foot massager?" you ask, barely hiding your disinterest, looking around for a corner where you can blow him.
"She said she wants the robe instead," he says, diligently checking each one on the rack. Pink, green, blue, they're all in ugly prints and you wonder how little he must think of his mom to actually buy her a bathrobe instead of something nice.
But the bigger problem is your aching cunt.
"Derek, come on, just pick one out," you beg him, whispering in his ear, giving his lobe a little bite.
"Calm down, we're in public," he chides you over nervous laughter.
"So? That makes it more exciting." Closer to him as the clothing rack hides you, you cup his crotch, disappointed to find he isn't even remotely hard. Not a problem. You know exactly how to get him started.
"Let's go to the dressing room," you tell him before he can remove your hand. "I'll let you do whatever you want, please, I just need you now.."
"Get a hold of yourself," he whispers harshly, finally pulling your hand from him.
"Derek, what the fuck?" you whisper back. "Your horny girlfriend wants you to fuck her in a semi-public place and you're limp as a fucking noodle. Don't you want to at least watch me get off?"
You're not even allowing him time to think about it, leading him to the men's dressing room, where you're less likely to set off an alarm than the women's. You step into the first stall and push him against the wall, caging him in with your arms.
"Sweetheart, what the hell?"
"Fuck me," you tell him. "Jesus, Derek, I'm pussy on a plate right now." You lift your leg, rubbing against him, but only the fly of his jeans provides any feeling. "And you can't even get hard??"
"You're coming on a little strong," he says faintly, as if he's being cornered by a feral animal. And in a way he is.
You lean back on the little dressing room seat, hiking up your skirt. "At least eat me out, for Christ's sake," you whine, fingers dipping into your dripping-over cunt.
"Darling! You're acting like a crazy person," he says, shielding his eyes as you desperately finger yourself.
"You're such a pussy," you grunt out, breath hitching as you fuck yourself on two, then three fingers.
"You're not wearing any panties??" he says too loud, but you're past caring who hears, or if anyone even walks in. You'll gratefully fuck the store manager and the security guard who'll probably come to haul you away.
Derek keeps his gaze averted as you continue shamelessly fucking your hand, reaching inside your dress to twist your nipple. "Derek.. fuck.. you just gonna stand there and be useless?" You shove a fourth finger in your snatch, eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Your boyfriend is deeply afraid as he risks a peek from between his hands covering his face. "You look possessed! You have to stop or someone's going to hear you!"
"Baby, please, put your cock in my mouth," you beg, still working yourself into a frenzy. "Jizz on my face, anything, please!" You're on the floor now, riding your own fingers, your other hand madly strumming at your clit like a perverted version of air guitar.
There's a knock at the dressing room door, to which you answer "Go away, we're fucking" Then you come, squirting all over the bathrobe Derek was going to gift his dear mommy.
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"You're lucky that guy didn't turn us into the police," Derek says, tight-lipped as he leads you back towards the center of the mall. "Got it all out of your system?" He's leaving the store embarrassed and minus any gifts.
"Yes," you sigh in exasperation, though it's a bald-faced lie. The need is growing again and you're just a slave to it. Your hands itch to go up your skirt again, to relieve the tension before it becomes unbearable.
And there he is, right where you left him before. Fucking Santa Claus. Like he's been waiting for you this whole time.
"Let's take a picture," you pull on Derek's hand. "Please? End the day on a good note?" You do your best to look contrite but all you're thinking about is sitting on that sleazy man's lap, maybe getting felt up. It'd be fucking amazing to have someone touch you besides your own fingers.
Before he can even protest you're practically skipping past the velvet rope and traipsing up the candy-cane lined walk to the big green chair where Santa sits. His eyes already on you, he pats his lap, tongue peeking out between his lips.
Derek follows after, but is stopped by one of the elves, who tells him he has to pay in advance for a photo.
"And what's your name?" Santa murmurs, discreetly adjusting himself as you seat yourself on his lap. "Does it matter?" you ask, subtly lifting the back of your skirt as he pulls his thick hard cock. "Guess not," he chuckles low and deep, then hisses as your slick tight cunt envelops him.
"My fucking god," he says lowly, doing all he can to keep from thrusting up into you as your boyfriend comes up, all smiles as he watches you get cozy with Santa. He makes as if to sit on Santa's other thigh. "Not you," Santa grunts, his hands on your waist as you clench and throb around him. Derek holds a smile and stands to the side opposite you.
This, this is what you needed. His cock isn't even all the way in, the way you pulse around him pushes him out a little until his hands grab your waist, as if to pose you for the camera, and pushes you down, bottoming out within your sopping wet cunt.
"Gonna leave a mess on me," he murmurs. "Already got my lap soaked. And the suit's a fuckin' rental."
His breath smells like cigarettes and cheap booze and it's only making you want him more. "Fuck, I needed this.."
"You been a good girl this year?"
"Not at all."
He leans in and whispers: "Good girls get presents. Bad girls like you get to sit on Santa's fat cock." He shifts his lap up a little, jutting up into you and you bite your lip to barely suppress a moan.
Your picture is being taken with Santa but you could give a shit. Cockwarming him while he's whispering filth in your ear is the most fun you've ever had.
"Does baby girl want a candy cane?" he asks when it's time for you to go. Derek goes to pay, leaving you alone with Santa again. "We have some more in the elf cottage, You gonna come get one? Gotta earn it first.." His gloved finger traces your arm. "C'mon, ditch the wanker."
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The elf cottage is a sparse room for the Santa's Wonderland employees to take their breaks, and right now it's filled with the sounds of flesh slapping on flesh, your moans muffled by the fluffy red hat he put there to quiet you as he bends you over the folding table and rams his holly jolly dick into your stretched needy cunt.
"That's it, baby, fuckin' take it. Let Santa stuff your tight lil' stocking," he grunts.
You moan around the red fluff of his hastily discarded hat, throat burning with all your pent-up screams. Christ, you've never had anyone so disgusting, so eager, so perfect to satisfy this itch that you've been unable to scratch yourself.
And lord, his cock is the most filling thing you'll ever have. You already know he's going to leave you gaping for the next few days.
He watches the ripples of your ass as you throw it back on him, taking his entire fucking shaft so that with each thrust his balls thwack against your inner thighs. "Tight and wet.. lil' bitch in heat, ain't ya?" he teases, circling his hips so you feel him against every square inch of your aching snatch. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, finally spitting out the stupid hat.
"Fuck me Santa, fuck me Santa, fuck me Santa," you chant in broken moans, pushing your hips back, demanding it hard and fast, which he gives even as you come, clamping down all around him in a vise grip.
"Jesus," he growls, pulling out and kneeling behind you. He purses his lips to your dripping cunt, wiggling his tongue against your folds before licking a wide stripe upwards, teasing your asshole with his tongue. You practically shove your ass against his face, his gloved hands spreading your cheeks to get better access.
Grabbing a candy cane from a basket on the table you unwrap it with your teeth and hand it to him. It's thick and hard, and Santa knows just what to do with it. Feasting on both your holes, he takes the candy cane and watches it disappear into your glistening pussy. Hearing your gasp encourages him to keep going, fucking you as his tongue keeps rimming your ass, delving into tease you.
There's a knocking at the makeshift cottage door, then a moment of silence and a "God damn it, Joel, not again!" from the other side. "Fucker's always doing something," the person, most likely one of the elves at the cash register, mumbles and walks off.
He's back inside you, sliding the candy cane between your lips, moving it in and out just as he moves in and out, keeping you spread open so he fill you with every inch. "Babygirl likes havin' somethin' to suck on, don't she?" he mutters, pumping steadily into you. "Gotta be a good girl and tell me where ya want it."
"Inside me," you beg, and he moves double time, hands on your shoulders as he ruts up against you, slamming every inch until you cry out again, knees buckling as you come hard and Santa Joel follows soon after, his jizz painting your insides in warm sticky ropes.
"Lick me clean, baby," he murmurs, and you immediately go to your knees, taking him deep into your mouth, your jaw aching as the tip of him hits the back of your throat. When you gag he keeps you there, your mouth filling with saliva until it spills out from your lips, mixed with his cum. You bob your head on his length, eyes watering as you look up at him, your cunt still throbbing as you start to leak him on the floor.
"Fuuuuck yes," he growls, hand on your head, teeth sinking into his lower lip as you suck him off, and it's a Christmas miracle he's hard again, and he's about to come. He holds your head still and facefucks you, your hands cupping his ass to stop him from going too shallow-- you need to be deepthroated for once in your life.
Santa Joel lets out another curse as he uses you to come, spurting his Christmas magic down your throat. "There's a good girl. Babygirl's thirsty for what Santa's got, huh?" he teases as you greedily swallow every bitter, salty drop.
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Clothes are straightened before you leave the little elf cottage, but the look of satisfaction is plain on your face as you suck on the candy cane that you'd been fucked with only moments before. Santa Joel puts his hat back on his head and shuffles over to the helper elves. "I'm goin' out for another smoke break," he tells them.
The head elf puts her hands on her hips. "Joel, you're not allowed to take ten smoke breaks an hour!" But by then he's already on the way out, both middle fingers in the air to salute her.
Derek joins you, looking puzzled as he studies the holiday photo -- there's something off about the face you're making in it. "Did Santa give you that candy cane?"
Grinning, you slurp up the sweet peppermint that still has traces of your own flavor on it. "And then some."
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dividers by @saradika 👑
Tagging those who showed interest: @clawdee @itwasntimethatdidit40 @milla-frenchy @myownwholewildworld
@penascigarette @hoelaris
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mixingandmelting · 1 month ago
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Hello! I was wondering if you'd quite something based on the bat boys (or just Jason) reaction to realizing they liked having a normal life?
Like they go to visit the readers' family for Xmas, but their family left without letting them know, so they had the whole house to themselves, so they got to play house. It was in a whole other state, so no needing to be vigilantes. Just them with their s/o getting ready for Christmas, being shown around and just living a normal life for a few weeks.
A/N: Hope you don't mind me not writing about Duke and Damian since they're both minors so legally speaking they can't really travel out-of-state alone. Plus to be real, I highly doubt Batman would want to leave Damian unsupervised considering what happens when he's alone 😔
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Dick:
His whole life he was anything but normal, being raised in a circus and now, fighting crimes 24/7. Excitement, action, danger, and adventures are what defines him and how he had always dreamt of how his life would go on. But here he is, tasting “normal” for the first time in his life by spending the holiday with you in the house you were raised in. Snowball fights and building snowmen delays the process of clearing the snow. Not to forget the snow angels that are made once he playfully tackles you down into the snow after you manage to get more on him than yourself. Putting up the lights and decoration both inside and outside of the house was more fun than the times he helped out at the Wayne manor, while finding out shopping for anything during the holiday season is a battle of its own. Adding that to the daily routine that’s usually gone through on his days off every day,  it’s… quiet and peaceful. He doesn’t wake up to sirens or violence. He’s not worried about another mission, instead figuring out how he’ll get your present under the tree without getting caught. You greeting him at the door, placing a kiss on his cheeks that are slightly bitten from frost when it’s decided he’s moving the snow on his own makes him so fuzzy, he starts calling you honey over babe. The most mind boggling about this? He doesn't mind it. It’s hard to accept that he actually likes “normal”. He’s confused over liking a concept that’s completely foreign to him and with his personality, he won’t last long with living with “normal” forever. The happy couple/marriage vibe though? He’s on board and digs it, one-hundred percent. Especially in a house filled with childhood memories, it’s giving him ideas and changing what he perhaps would want in the future in ways he wouldn’t think of back then.
Jason:
Considering his childhood and how he went through the whole reincarnation cycle of dying and then reviving, it’s a desire he had as a kid but gave up right away. He didn’t even fathom that a day would come where he would experience what it would be like to be normal. Walking around and staying in the typical home most average people live in made him tense the first three days, even more so knowing this was where you lived since a child. Moving snow with you becomes his favorite pastime, where you’d distract from getting the job done and have him chase after you from the snowball that hits his back. Or bringing out steaming hot chocolate so his nose and hands would stop feeling as if they’re ready to fall off from the cold after cleaning up and helping you build a snow fort of all things. His hands are frequently on your waist from holding you up to string the lights and hang the decorations after you frown from his “aesthetic” way of placing them, pushing him to move aside so you could show how a real pro does it. It’s also his first time struggling to find time to get a present behind your back from being with you all the time. Eating meals together, taking walks together around the neighborhood and city, acting as bodyguard during grocery and Christmas shopping, spending time together as a couple in general in a house that’s warm, cozy, and peaceful as Jason Todd is a first. Not as Robin once dead and revived or Red Hood, the violent outlaw.  It’s a wish once buried in his heart on top of another where he’s spending time with you that comes true before the holiday. He’s emotional from being so happy, he doesn’t think of anything else other than wanting to live like this for the rest of his life.
Tim:
Contrary to the stereotypes depicted by the media, rich kids don’t spend time with their family; it's usually spent with their nanny as their parents leave them for long periods of time in a house too large for two people. Sure over the years he has healed with his friends and a new family. But it feels like a dream come true with you. He’s laughing and enjoying the soft fluffiness of white that gets all over him, freezing his nose and hands when he tries to clear the snow. He gets into it with you over how the lights and decorations should be placed inside and outside the house when you mentioned you want to outdo your neighbors, a set of blueprints and sketches drawn while debating that rainbow lights were better than the flickering, white ones. To much of his chagrin, he’s fumbling with all the things you toss at him when he helps you shop, him being in charge of the shopping cart as he stays in-line as you grab and bring back what’s needed in the store. Not that he’s complaining, his face suddenly tinted in red when you come back and slip your hand between his hand and the handle during the wait for the next opened cashier. Surprisingly enough, he doesn’t struggle with getting you a Christmas present and placing it under the tree. He had been keeping tabs since the day after Valentine’s Day on the things you’ve been looking at while relying on your habits he memorized to time things perfectly. Similar to Jason, he, too, wanted to live normally like any other person. Him getting to do that by prepping for the holiday with you heals the child in him, making him content and wishing the time the two of you currently have lasts forever.
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rustedhearts · 3 months ago
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happy xmas (70s!steve harrington x fem!reader)
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⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿˚
summary: steve can't find a present for his girlfriend, so he asks the only other girl he knows: you. but searching for the perfect present for nancy turns into steve's chance to find the perfect present for you.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿ ˚
❅ the most wonderful time of the year ❅ the only living boy in indiana
tags: ignore that I think I messed up my own timeline, I literally do not care, fluff, mutual pining.
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿ ˚
recommended listening: silver joy, damien jurado
⊹₊ ˚ ₊⊹hawkins, indiana. december 23rd, 1975 ⊹₊ ˚ ₊⊹
Christmas break was a godsend this year. After your first semester in community college spent lugging textbooks from the library, and spending countless long evenings studying for exams, you needed the four blissful weeks at home. In silence. In bed.
Which is where you were, snuggled under a heavy pile of your warmest blankets pulled from the linen closet when the first snow fell—when the silence of your warm little home was interrupted by an incessant clanging. You shot up in bed, immediately craning to peer through your fogged-up bedroom window.
Your parents weren't due home until this evening. They still had to work, the poor bastards—but you had the whole place to yourself until then. And you planned on spending it alternating between your bed and the couch, where you'd spend an hour browsing through the TV guide for Christmas specials before deciding on one. Simply because you had absolutely nowhere to be and absolutely nothing to do.
Steve, on the other hand, did.
You huffed at the sight of him bounding down the front steps, kicking up tufts of snow as he went. He found the top of your head in the window and waved a gloved hand, beckoning you down. You groaned, fitfully kicking the covers to the end of your bed to march toward the window.
"Steve, I swear to God. I told you I'm having a day at home," you called down to him once the window was open.
The afternoon sun blared down on his wind-bitten cheeks, turned a rosy shade of pink. The wind billowed through his chestnut hair and pushed it off his forehead. God, he needed a new coat. New gloves, too. You spotted holes in both items, but knew well enough how much Steve cared about that wool-lined suede coat. Maybe your gift would be mending it for him. But lord knew how material Steve could be.
He cinched his brows together and cupped his hands over his eyes as he called up to you. "But I'm havin' a crisis! You have to help me."
Your fingers were catching cold curled over the windowsill, sitting in piles of icicles and last night's snow. In only the pajamas you went to bed in, you were in no place to stand in the open window and argue.
"Jesus," you huffed. "Just...come up, I gotta get changed."
You pulled back into your bedroom and shimmied the window shut with a rusty shriek. Steve grinned and jogged up the front steps toward the door. You scowled as you threw the covers over your rumpled bed, knowing you would not be enjoying the comfort and warmth of those clean sheets today like you'd hoped.
Instead, you discarded your pajamas and tugged on a pair of jeans and a sweater as Steve slammed the front door and headed upstairs.
"Okay, so—" Steve flung the door open and flopped on the end of your bed, boots discarded downstairs. "—I've been to like every store in town and I cannot find a present for Nancy."
You dropped the balled up socks in your hand and turned around, eyes narrowed at the boy hunched on your bed. "I am not going Christmas shopping for your girlfriend."
The pink returned to Steve's cheeks, eyes rounded like dough balls. "What? Come on, you're the only other girl I know!"
You scoffed, sitting on the carpet to roll your socks on. "That is not true."
He huffed, playing with the loose strings on his gloved fingers. "Well, no, but...you're the only one who can, like, help me. You and Nancy are really similar, you'll know what she likes!"
You adjusted the seam over your toes and glanced at Steve in your periphery. He truly did sound desperate. But that didn't change the fact that you'd have to spend the day you set aside to sleep and relax shopping for another girl. Steve's girlfriend, no less. The girl you weren't sure was right for your best friend anyway. Never mind the fact that she was a total priss, you were pretty sure she had feelings for another guy.
And Steve, with all his jealousy and possession issues, didn't seem to see it.
"We are not alike," you mumbled, plucking at the cotton of your socks.
"Whatever," Steve huffed. "Just...can you help me? It's gotta be something nice."
A deep breath ballooned in your chest. When you released it, it flung the hair out of your eyes. Steve watched you intently, socked foot bouncing on the floor. The wood beneath it squeaked in that spot, and the carpet muffled the sound to morph it into a groan.
You pushed off the floor and crossed your arms. "Fine. But you're buying me a pretzel at the mall. And a Pepsi."
Steve leapt to his feet, gloved hands outstretched to grab you by the shoulders. The grin on his face nuzzled into your cheek where he pressed a loud kiss.
"Yes, thank you. I'll buy you two! Okay, come on, come on."
He rushed the open door and hurried back downstairs for his boots. You sighed, pulling your discarded gloves and earmuffs from their place on your dresser.
"Come onnn!" Steve called from the bottom of the steps.
"Oh my god, I'm coming!"
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧ ︵‿₊୨୧₊‿˚
"You know, why did you wait until two days before Christmas to ask me to help you, Steve?"
The pretzel you made Steve buy you before you even stepped foot into a store was perfectly soft and buttery. The salt tingled on your tongue beautifully, and it was almost enough to help smooth the irritation this whole dilemma caused.
Except it was two days before Christmas and the mall was packed. You had to shuffle through hordes of people and you were already sweating through your layers. Someone nearly pushed you near the candy store and a little girl sneezed on your shoes.
The pretzel was simply not enough to save you from all that.
"I thought I could find somethin' by myself." Steve shrugged, taking a sip of the Pepsi.
He got a large so you could share, but he was hogging most of it.
"What, nothing said Nancy to you?"
The pair of you rounded the corner near Orange Julius, where blenders whirred over the jingle of Christmas music emitting from Sears. The fluorescent lights were warmed with giant globes of soft white light and the trees of multi-colored bulbs. They had tinsel and garland and ornaments everywhere, and if you weren't so upset with Steve, you might've found it wonderful. Sears was your happy place, after all.
So if Nancy really was like you, she'd find something worthy of Christmas there, too.
"Not really. She's very....particular."
"Mm," you hummed, ripping off another bite of your pretzel. "Do you think I'm particular then?"
Steve shot you a look, brow quirked. "No, you're picky. There's a big difference."
"I am not!" you gasped, shoving at his padded arm. "I just...like what I like."
"Yeah. You're high maintenance."
You scowled into your pretzel, reaching over to snatch the Pepsi cup from his hand. "Hey."
"No, it's okay. It's what makes you, you," he assured, looping his arm around your shoulders to give you a shake, tucked into his side.
You huffed, attaching your mouth to the chewed-up straw. Steve's anxious affliction came in the form of an oral fixation, usually attached to a cigarette between his lips.
"I don't know how you put up with me," you droned dryly.
Steve chuckled, giving you a squeeze with his arm. "Ah, you're alright."
In Sears, you let Steve hold the Pepsi again as you roamed the aisles. You steered clear of appliances entirely, knowing Nancy likely didn't use hot rollers and certainly didn't need a blender for Christmas. You headed to the clothing department first, knowing from the catalog that came a few weeks ago that they had a pretty good selection this year.
"So, what's your budget, Harrington?"
Steve leaned against a stand and shrugged. "Dunno, whatever."
You raised a brow, peering at him over the neck of an argyle cable knit. "Oh, fancy man with his big boy job, huh?"
Steve rolled his eyes, gnawing on the straw again. "Whatever."
You folded the sweater and placed it back on the table, pulling the gloves off your fingers with your teeth. You tucked them in your coat pocket and moved onto the next table, peering through the selection of fabrics and options. Steve followed quietly, glancing casually but absently. You pulled the Pepsi from his hands when the straw chewing became loud.
"What about this?" he asked, pulling a fuzzy pink sweater up like roadkill, plucked between two fingers. "You think she'd like this?"
You hid your smile behind a sip of Pepsi. "Um...I guess, yeah."
"Well...would you wear it?" Steve held it out by the shoulders, letting the sweater hang loose.
You looked it over, tipping your head. "Probably not. But I don't really wear pink, I think Nancy does."
"Oh, right."
Steve placed it back on the table in a rumpled ball. You huffed, shoving the cup against his chest.
"What are you, a heathen? Fold it, Harrington, Jesus."
He was quiet a moment, watching you fluff and fold an item you didn’t plan to buy.
"Are you sure you don't wear pink?"
"Have you seen me wear pink?"
Hearing his sharp intake of know-it-all breath, you whirled around and added an addendum. "After the age of seven?"
Steve closed his mouth. You plucked the cup from his hand and flashed a tight-lipped smile.
"Exactly. Come on, let's go over here."
He followed you across the snow-slicked tile, boots squeaking as he went. He watched you pause and tip your head at a brown coat in the men's section, only to turn back toward the women's. He eyed it as he followed you blindly.
"What about you?"
You felt the sleeve of a plum-colored cardigan. "What about me?"
"What do you like getting for Christmas?"
You tossed him a bewildered glance. "You know I love my Mrs. Harrington popcorn tin every year."
Steve chuckled, twisting the plastic straw of the Pepsi cup between two fingers. "Yeah, but...I don't know, what's one thing you've always really wanted, but never got?"
You watched him twist the straw, and hung the sweater back on the rack. "Um...I don't know."
"Oh, come on. Like...you know I've always wanted that one super rare press of The Stones'—"
"Yes, Steve, I know."
Steve ignored your eye roll, taking one large step forward toward the jewelry case you were peering into. “Well, so, what’s your rare press? The one thing you really want?”
You glanced at him through your lashes, head still angled toward the array of rings and bracelets. Your cheeks illuminated by the fluorescents, fingers collecting the glimmer of a strand of lit garland wrapped around the glass of the jewelry case—it all suddenly made Steve begin gnawing at the Pepsi straw again.
"Why are you asking me this?"
Steve huffed, leaning back against the warm case until you pushed him off. "Jesus, is it so hard for you to answer one question?"
You straightened up again and stepped away from the jewelry. Nancy seemed like a jewelry girl, but you were becoming increasingly more frustrated in your search—though at this point, your eyes were simply grazing items. Everything that piqued your interest didn't seem like something Nancy was worthy of. And the mere thought of your spite for the girl gave you pause.
So, how could Steve be so sweet in this moment when you were standing there plotting revenge on Nancy Wheeler through means of shitty Christmas gifts?
"Fine," you mumbled. "Um...you know that I always think it's the thought that counts—"
"God," Steve groaned, tipping his head back dramatically as he followed you into the next department. "Okay, Mother Teresa."
Your elbow jammed into his side and caused Steve to yelp. "I mean it! Sure, I might be particular—"
"Picky—"
"—but just the thought of someone thinking of me, or having me in mind when they find something...that's what makes a gift special. You know? Like when you went to that bookstore in Indianapolis and got me that journal. You didn't get it because you knew I wanted it, you got it because it made you think of me."
Steve swallowed, grinding his teeth over the flimsy plastic of the straw. You twirled a coat around on its hanger and inspected the back. As your hand swept over the tweed, Steve felt the bite of pretzel he took crawling its way back up.
"So..." He tapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth, tasting the sweetness lining his cheeks. God, was he gonna be sick because of this?
And what was this? He knew it wasn't the normal, platonic ache all best friends of any gender felt. He knew it was abnormal, actually, to listen to you speak and suddenly feel so overcome with something that it made him want to flee. But what was that something?
It certainly couldn't be what he was thinking.
"Your rare press is...something thoughtful?"
You giggled, hanging the coat back up. The metal hanger shrieked over the rack. "No, I guess if I had to have a rare press, it'd be one of my grandma's handmade blankets. She made one for my mom and all her siblings when they went off to college or moved out, and...I don't know, I guess I'm still sad I'll never get my own now that she's gone."
When Steve only hummed, you turned to find him leaning against a tinsel-wrapped column near the aisle.
"I guess that's something thoughtful, too," you added.
Steve had the straw back in his mouth again, and he bobbed his head affirmatively. You turned away and scanned the store before you. You suddenly couldn't be here any longer, and when a bit of yellow caught your eye, you rushed for it.
It was a soft sweater, with embroidered flowers on the sleeves and tortoise shell buttons. You pulled one from the table and held it out to Steve, who had just caught up to you from across the store.
"What—"
"—here. Nancy looks nice in yellow. Something thoughtful, too."
Steve took the bundle of yellow in his grasp. You took the Pepsi cup, now mangled by his teeth and crushed by his hand, and took a sip through the gnawed opening.
"Come on, let's go pay. The lines are wrapped around already."
⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿ ˚
⊹₊ ˚ ₊⊹ christmas eve. ⊹₊ ˚ ₊⊹
You watched through the fog of your living room window as Steve's BMW pulled into his driveway. He wore his nicer coat that day, buttoned snugly against his throat. At the passenger side, he offered his hand to an equally-bundled Nancy, dark curls billowing in the afternoon breeze. Their breaths echoed whitely against the grey sky, noses and cheeks already wind-whipped pink.
You let the curtains fall back into place when they disappeared through his front door.
"Honey, want to help me hang the popcorn?" your mother asked, holding a strand of popcorn and cranberry garland between two hands.
You pressed your socked feet into the carpet and met her near the tree. "Sure, mom."
And every walk around the tree to fix an ornament or fluff a branch, or tread to the dining room for a cube of cheese from the platter your parents set out for their friends later, came with a glance through the window toward Steve's house.
So, when the cheese began to curdle in your stomach, and the sound of Christmas carols crackling through your father's record player was not enough to distract you from what was going on next door, you went into the living room and peeked around the corner.
"Hey, mom? I think I'm gonna go lie down. Wake me when everyone's here?"
Your mother looked up from the tin of ornaments she was rifling through, placed on the floor at her knees. She had on her nicest tweed dress and white blouse, hair twisted and pinned neatly at the back of her head. The Christmas party was your parents' favorite event of the year. You wouldn't miss it out of heartache—but your body was calling you to bed.
"Oh, okay, sweetheart. Are you feeling alright?"
You nodded, flashing your most convincing smile. "Yeah, just tired from all that shopping yesterday. I'll see you guys in a bit."
And you crawled into bed, even in your dress. Tight-clad feet wiggled near the edge of the bed, nestled beneath the pile of blankets you abandoned yesterday. Their warmth weighed down on you blissfully. The crackle of your father's record player and the choir of the Christmas carols faded in the distance. The howl of the wind grew quiet as the afternoon lulled. It only whispered, softly, through the bareness of the trees and the cracks in your window.
Before you shut your eyes, you looked off toward the glass. The center fogged with the kiss between radiator heat and the frozen world outside. Snow gathered around the edges like lace border. From this angle, you could see only the spindly edges of the tree branch tops. How snow sat like dollops of whipped cream on their ends.
The world was quiet, cold, and empty. And it was exactly what you needed.
⊹₊ ˚ ₊⊹
Steve came when you were fast asleep. He knocked on the front door with a gloved fist, keeping his sloppily-wrapped gift behind his back. The grin on his face slipped when the door opened to your mother, who winced with a finger to her lips.
"Hi, Steven."
"Hi, Sandra. Is she around?"
"She's sleeping," she whispered, giving another wince.
Steve nodded, smile absent now. "Oh, okay. Um...do you mind if I just put this outside her door?"
Your mother looked at the lumpy shape in Steve's hands, wrapped in shiny red paper and a golden bow. Her wincing ceased instantly and she perked up with a grin.
"Oh, how lovely, Steven. You're such a sweet boy, you know?"
Steve chuckled, cheeks burning.
"You sure you don't want to just wait, give it to her tomorrow?" she asked.
Steve placed both hands around the present, gnawing on the inside of his cheek as he gazed down. "Um...no, that's okay. Kind of wanted her to have it tonight, and we're going to my grandparents' in a bit."
"Well, alright. Come on in, you can head up."
Steve thanked your mother and stepped inside. He shook his boots off on the mat and unlaced them quickly. He shook your father's hand, complimented the festivities of your home's first floor, and tiptoed toward the staircase.
The hallway darkened near your bedroom. He paused outside of the door, listening to the sounds of your home for a moment. Your parents conversing downstairs over the jazzy toot of a Christmas song. The heater rattling a little at the end of the hall. You gave no sign of life on the other side of the door.
So, Steve found himself opening it. Quietly, knowing it tended to whine on the hinges at a certain distance. He opened it just enough to slip through, and then found himself standing there. In the center of your bedroom, socked feet weighing down the carpet. You used to draw shapes in the fibers when you were younger, lying on your stomachs with your feet kicking behind you. You'd write each other messages in the pink, giggling when you guessed them exactly.
In your bed— cheek squished against a plaid pillow, hair fussed about, mouth open to breathe softly—you looked just like that little girl again. The one who called him Stevie. The one he spent afternoons that felt like years with.
It's strange how different time felt when you were children. How much more if it you had. How simple and unperverted it was, not yet burdened with the difficulties of life and that odd, aching feeling.
As Steve placed the lumpy present wrapped messily in red at the foot of your bed, he imagined that little girl opening it when she woke, and the smile on her face that he would never see.
It left him with an even bigger ache in his chest as he slipped back into the hallway and headed down for his boots.
But it would have pleased him to know that when you woke at four o'clock, and your bedroom was nearly dark with evening, you shuffled to sit and stared at that red present in wonder. You brought it to your lap and ran your finger over the scratchy glitter of the bright, gold bow.
There was a sticky note taped to the top, complete with what you instantly recognized as Steve's scraggly handwriting.
Your rare press.
— Steve
You chuckled softly, and tore the paper as carefully as you could. Before all of it had even been removed, goosebumps traveled beneath the sleeves of your dress. A gasp left your mouth, and you discarded the paper toward the other side of your bed to leave only your rare press in your hands.
Stripes of purple—an array of dark to light, boysenberry, violet, mauve, lavender—wove through gaps the size of tiny, feminine fingers. It was soft and heavy in your palms, exactly the weight of the one strewn over the couch in the living room. With the wavy edges of a Harrington afghan, seen in the many rooms touched by his grandmother.
Though yours was gone, Steve had one that loved to offer her magic hand.
You brought the blanket to your chest and hugged it close. Wonderfully, it smelled like Steve.
Leftover Winston, a warm amber musk, and the woodsy pine of a Christmas tree.
It was enough to make you get out of bed and lay the layers of blankets neatly. And folded just-so over the end of your mattress, you placed your purple present for all to see.
And it smelled wonderfully of Steve.
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yelenasdiary · 2 months ago
Note
Readers birthday is around xmas and Wanda makes sure to keep it separate from the xmas celebration to ensure that reader knows how loved she is ❤️🎄
The Best Birthday Ever
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem! Reader
Summary: It's your birthday and Wanda makes sure that your birthday is separate from xmas celebrations, letting you know how loved you are.
Fluff, Teeny Tiny Angst
Warnings: None, if I missed any, please let me know | 1.3K
AC: This one is for all you December babies! I hope you all have a wonderful birthday!! x
Holiday Special Masterlist
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The air in the cozy little cottage that you and Wanda called home was filled with the warm scent of cinnamon and pine, setting the perfect feel for the holiday season. However, as much as you liked all the fun things that came with Christmas, December was also the month of your birthday, not that it ever truly felt like your birthday. 
Since a kid, you grew used to people not making a big deal about your birthday, especially now that it was so close to Christmas. Your parents always did their best to try and make it separate from Christmas, but nothing ever truly felt like it was a special day just for you. 
As the days leading up to Christmas went by, you didn’t bother to think about making plans for your day. You took each day like it was any other normal day, expecting there to be Christmas decorations everywhere you looked. Wanda, being Jewish, didn’t make the house explode with traditional decorations this year, no, this year she was set on making sure you knew that your birthday was just as important as a worldwide holiday. 
The sun began to rise and bathe the bedroom in its warm light as Wanda slipped out of bed, careful not to wake you as she tipped toed into the kitchen where she put her favorite playlist on ever so softly while she began to turn the spotless kitchen into a baking mess. She’d been planning the perfect little surprise for you for weeks now, her mind crystal clear on what she wanted to do for you. 
After putting the cake batter into the oven, she moved into the living room to hang up the decorations she had hidden in storage. Fairy lights around the room, the coffee table set out perfectly with your favorite snacks while she sets the dining table for breakfast. A large ‘Happy Birthday’ banner hung proudly above the doorway of the living room, your presents placed on the dining table for you to rip into after breakfast. 
The smell of French toast would be the reason you stirred, your eyes slowly opening to greet the brightness of the sun peeking through the window. Your stomach growled at the thought of breakfast as you slipped out of bed and grabbed your warm, fluffy robe before making your way to investigate the smell that drove you to the kitchen,
“Happy Birthday my love!!!” Wanda beamed with a soft smile. 
It took you a few seconds to register what was going on, your eyes noticing the decorations in the dining room along with the set table just waiting for you and Wanda to take a seat. 
“You did all this for me?” You looked back at her, trying not to tear up at the kindness of your girlfriend’s surprise. 
“Of course,” she said softly, walking up to you, wrapping her arms softly around you. 
“You didn’t have to do that Wands” you replied, naturally your arms wrapping around her, embracing her into a tight hug. Wanda smiled softly to herself as she held you, “I wanted too” she said in an almost whisper, “you deserve to be celebrated, not just as part of the holiday but for being the amazing and beautiful person you are” she added. 
“Thank you” you whispered, hugging her for a few more precious moments before letting her free. “I made all your favourites for breakfast and don’t be pressure to eat all of it! I may have gone a little overboard” Wanda informed you. 
“Everything smells amazing” you complimented, your stomach reminding you once more just how hungry you were as you walked towards the table full of goodness. Wanda pulled a chair out for you, “Wands, this is incredible!” You exclaimed, your eyes full of happiness. 
“Just like you” Wanda said, placing a kiss on your cheek as you took your seat. 
After breakfast, Wanda placed your presents in front of you, all wrapped in birthday themed wrapping paper. “Baby, I said not to worry about gifts this year” you said, looking up at your girlfriend. “You do know that request is never going to actually happen, right?” She cocked a brow at you, “besides you need one of these for later” she added. 
Playfully, you shook your head before your hands landed on the large, soft gift. You opened it with care to see a thick, warm fluff throw blanket in your favorite color. “This is the one I almost brought last week!!” You said, looking at Wanda once more. 
“I know, this is why I had to tell you we had too many blankets already!” She chuckled, “I brought it for you weeks ago!” 
“Thank you darling!! I love it!” You beamed before reaching for the slightly smaller gift. It was heavy and felt hard. Excitement took over you as you ripped into the gift to find a photo album with a photo of you and Wanda on the cover. Your eyes softened as you carefully looked through the album full of photos and memories of your relationship over the years. 
“I want you to always remind just how much you mean to me, baby” Wanda said, taking a seat next to you as you took in every little detail that was inside the album, your eyes beginning to fill with tears. “I love everything, every little thing about you, about us…and I don’t want you to forget that” she added. You turned to her, “I could never forget” you said with a soft smile before crashing your lips onto hers, kissing her deeply to show her just how much she meant to you. “You’re not supposed to cry on your special day” Wanda said, her cheeks red with love. 
“That’s on you!” You replied, chuckling as you wiped your tears and reached for the final gift, a small box. As you opened it, a bracelet sat patiently waiting for you. “That I designed and made personally for you” Wanda said as you admired the customized jewelry. 
“What did I do to deserve you?” You asked, looking at her once more, “you’re perfect, thank you for all of this” you added with a soft smile. 
“I’d do anything for you darling, anything” she assured you, looking deeply into your eyes before you carefully put the bracelet on. “Now, today isn’t over” She smiled, “grab your blanket, it’s a movie marathon time” added Wanda. 
As the evening approached, Wanda had one last surprise up her sleeve. She ordered your favorite take-out without you knowing and waited for it to be delivered before she led you outside where a small fire pit crackled softly. The pit was surrounded by blankets and pillows all set up for the night.
“I heard tonight you can see the northern lights, so I thought we could watch them together and enjoy some birthday cake” 
“Wands, you have outdone yourself!” You wrapped your arms around her, hugging her tightly once again. “Happy Birthday beautiful” the brunette whispered, sinking into your hold. 
“This is the best birthday ever!” You replied. 
As you and Wanda were comfortable, snuggled up to each other enjoying the sight of the night sky while picking at your birthday cake, not a moment of the day felt like December was for Christmas, the thought of Christmas didn’t even cross your mind. You couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your day than doing some of your favorite things with your favorite person. 
“It’s like the world knew today was your special day” Wanda commented, admiring the way the lights gently danced across the horizon. A smile spreading across your face at her words, “I guess it did” you said before gently resting your head on Wanda’s shoulder. The world faded around you as you admired the show above you, the warmth of your girlfriend had no effect on the snowflakes that began to fall. Tonight marked a beautiful new chapter in your life, no more worrying about this time of year being only about the holidays.
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161 notes · View notes
simmerianne93 · 1 month ago
Text
[Simmerianne93]Xmas_poses_17
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Hello everyone!! How are you today???
I hope you are having a wonderful Xmas time.
I'm bringing today some poses with a mistletoe. I was going to make a sequence, but I needed an object mistletoe instead of an acc and i couldn't do it. I was also gonna share it last thursday but currently I'm sick with a horrible flu and had to rest for a couple of days... hate it, but it had to be that way... So, instead of making a sequence with a mistletoe, I made some non sequence poses with a few references I had saved since 2 years ago haha (and the 1st one that I had in mind and NEEDED to make.
Anyway, this is the third mistletoe poses I am bringing... it seems like a tradition now xDD hahaha... Hopefully I'll be able to make the sequence next year haha... I just need a hanging door mistletoe object haha I wish i know how to make objects from scratch...
Have an amazing time with your love ones and enjoy these poses!!!
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What is on it?
1 Trio pose (for an infant and 2 adult sims)
1 Trio pose (for a toddler and 2 adult sims)
1 Duo pose (for 2 children sims)
3 Duo pose (for 2 adult sims)
--- What do you need?
Andrew poses player.
Teleport any sim by Scumbumbo or Mccc by deaderpool.
Invisible infant mat replacement  by mcrudd  (OPTIONAL FOR INFANTS WHO HAVEN'T LEARN HOW TO SIT YET)
———
Instructions in the original post.
——
TOU
Do not claim my creations as your own.
Do not re-upload or modify my creations.
Do not make money of my creations.
Do not include my creations in Mods folders to download.
Please follow my Term Of Use.
——
Download it now here — [FREE FOR EVERYONE]
——————
If you want to support me:  Patreon | Ko-fi
All my poses overview: Pinterest |  Wix | Tumblr
More in-game preview pics of all my poses: Instagram
My socials: Twitter | BlueSky | Instagram | Tumblr
Lives and videos: Youtube
——————
I really hope you like them and I will say in advance: Thank you so much for using them.
@ts4-poses
--
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il-miele-che-scrive · 1 year ago
Note
Can't get over dj Lando in Bali for new years so can I request a smau where he's partying there with reader aka Max's sister? And she's like a dutch influencer so people are kinda like 🤨what they doin doe
My first fic of 2024 🫶 happy new year and enjoy, hoping you don't mind I made Y/n into an ex-junkie for the ✨drama✨, but I've had this idea on my mind for quite some time now, because it's like she's the opposite of her brother. Also I couldn't not make Y/n be friends with a few other drivers too, and also the caption on the last post is 🤌 I loved making this fanfic
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y/n_verstappen A last minute decision to spend the end of the year in Bali
view all comments
maxverstappen1 Have fun with your girls, don't get in too much trouble
↳y/n_verstappen Yeah... just me and my girls... me & my girls & I
↳username2 guys I have a feeling she's plotting smth
↳username1 we love to see big brother max being the dad
↳username3 that's cuz Jos did a pretty shitty job
yourfriend1 missed this ❤️ grateful to be ending this year with you @/y/n_verstappen @/yourfriend2
↳y/n_verstappen you don't ever know how grateful I am to be in Bali with my favorite people!
↳yourfriend2 I love you guys 🥹😭
↳username2 SHE SAID PEOPLE I repeat she said PEOPLE instead of GIRLS
landonorris Wow I wonder who took these pics of you, they're very nice
↳y/n_verstappen I hired a professional photographer😼pretty expensive if you ask me, but also worth it
↳maxverstappen1 Please quit flirting with my sister
↳landonorris @/maxverstappen1 I'm flirting with the photographer lmao he's very talented if you didn't notice
charles_leclerc Looking forward to hanging out when you're back ☀
↳y/n_verstappen Charlie I went to Switzerland with you before Xmas 😭 it's been a week
↳charles_leclerc Arthur made me post this comment
↳y/n_verstappen tell him I miss him then 🫶 you? not so much 🖕
↳arthur_leclerc I kiss you too @/y/n_verstappen
↳arthur_leclerc *miss
↳y/n_verstappen phew 😮‍💨 you've almost triggered a particular someone
↳username2 this someone being your brother, right Y/n? RIGHT Y/N?!
↳yourfriend1 sure you can go vroom in circles but can you fight? 🤺
↳yourfriend2 that's not the person you should target this question at and we both know that 👀
↳username2 SOMEONE CRACK THIS CODE PLS 😭
↳username3 i mean, she's definitely hinting at Y/n dating a driver 🤷‍♀️ maybe someone from the current f1 grid even
↳username4 @/username2 @/username3 y'all be jumping into assumptions too quickly
username3 Guys I still can't believe Y/n was with the Leclercs in Switzerland and Alexandra wasn't
↳username4 Shut up, Y/n has been friends with the Leclerc brothers ever since Max and Charles' karting era
↳username3 wtf chill 💀 I'm joking (although I wouldn't complain if she ended up dating Charles or Arthur)
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y/n_verstappen Adventures are better together
view all comments
landonorris The mask suits you, never take it off ❤️
↳username1 HELP why's he so mean to Max's sister💀
↳y/n_verstappen watch out in Bahrain 2024 🔫 sent a screenshot of your comment to the family groupchat
↳charles_leclerc you sent it to our groupchat with max and carlos
↳y/n_verstappen exactly
↳landonorris excuse me @/y/n_verstappen may I be added to the family groupchat?
↳y/n_verstappen excuse me @/landonorris, are you family?
↳landonorris that's my goal for 2024
username5 Look at Y/n having fun in Bali for her brother's money 😬
↳yourfriend1 more like the secret photographer's money 😇*this comment was deleted*
username3 MISS, DON'T ACT LIKE WE HAVEN'T SEEN YOUR COMMENT
↳username2 AND DON'T ACT LIKE IT WAS AN ACCIDENT
charles_leclerc better than the adventures in Switzerland? 🤔
↳maxverstappen1 cringe
↳carlossainz55 cringe
↳georgerussell63 cringe
↳yourfriend1 cringe
↳yourfriend2 cringe
↳landonorris cringe
↳y/n_verstappen jealous Lando?
↳landonorris wtf 5 other people said cringe and I'm the jealous one?
↳y/n_verstappen well, technically 4 other people since Max is my brother
↳landonorris 4 other people and I'm the jealous one?
↳y/n_verstappen Max is my brother, I only tolerate Carlos, no one likes George and his shirtless pics, and my girls are basically pets
↳yourfriend1 arf!
carlossainz55 I thought you can't swim
↳y/n_verstappen I prefer not to swim, but the selfie was worth it
landonorris I've changed my mind about the mask, it's lovely, where can I get one? 🥰
↳y/n_verstappen wow that was quick, I wonder if @/maxverstappen1 has anything to do with it
↳y/n_verstappen anyway, I got it just down the road on my morning walk
↳landonorris how would I know where that is 🙄
↳y/n_verstappen want me to walk you there? 🙄
↳username2 DOES IT MEAN LANDO IS IN BALI TOO?!
↳username3 @/username2 GIRL THEY MIGHT BE ON VACATION TOGETHER
↳username2 i knew she was plotting something 😭
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y/n_verstappen Darling, I fancy you
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username1 WHO IS THAT MAN 🔫 I JUST WANNA TALK
maxverstappen1 Y/n pick up the phone, you can't post and disappear
↳username2 rip to whoever is the mysterious man
↳username3 imagine your brother in law is max verstappen and he hates you before you even meet
↳landonorris ikr, terrible, i could never
↳username3 WTF LANDO
yourfriend1 my fav couple but when will you hard launch?
↳charles_leclerc asking the most important question right there
carlossainz55 I'm tired of knowing who he is and being forced to keep quiet
↳maxverstappen1 what? you found out before me?
↳carlossainz55 in Y/n's defence, the man couldn't keep it a secret
↳username2 alright chat now we know it's someone close to Carlos
↳username1 @/username2 CHARLES?
↳username2 @/username1 no, it can't be him, look a few comments above
↳username3 @/username1 @/username2 I'm being delulu but... Arthur? I'm just manifesting it's him
↳username2 and Charles wouldn't know?
↳username3 well, Max didn't 🤡
↳charles_leclerc don't be shy Carlito tell us
danielricciardo Ki ki ki ra
↳landonorris KI KI AY
↳y/n_verstappen I wanted to say it 😡 why are u so quick??
↳landonorris well, you're trying to compete with an f1 driver, better luck next time
username2 GUYS what if it's LANDO??? Close to Carlos ☑ can vroom circles ☑ possibly also in Bali rn ☑
↳username1 you might have a point plus the caption is Taylor Swift and Lando is a swiftie
↳username5 Is he? I thought it's a British thing to say you have a crush on someone
↳username2 @/username5 well, he's British, so another hint from Y/n I guess
username7 i surely hope her and Lando aren't dating, she's a retired drug addict
↳username1 leave the past in the past, let this girl be happy
arthur_leclerc y/n has a boyfriend y/n has a boyfriend
↳y/n_verstappen don't worry, someday you'll have one too
↳arthur_leclerc let's see if you'll keep this attitude introducing your new bf to Max 😄🖕
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y/n_verstappen Als je bitch wil chillen is het geen probleem dan ga ik erheen, ik kom niet alleen want ik heb drank en drugs
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yourfriend1 amazing night!! 💜💜
↳y/n_verstappen we loved the music didn't we 😼
↳landonorris you're welcome 😌
username7 the caption 🥶
↳username2 chill out it's just a song literally!!
↳username3 i can't even remember all the times I've seen Max edited to this song on tiktok lmao
arthur_leclerc You clubbing without me?
↳y/n_verstappen it was a girls night 😇🖕
↳yourfriend2 no it wasn't 🫶
↳yourfriend1 tbh it was, her boyfriend spent more time DJing anyway
username1 why can't they make it official already 🥹
↳username2 I bet Carlos is wondering the same
landonorris I hope you tipped the DJ well for entertaining you half the night
↳y/n_verstappen I guess if you can call entertaining him for the 2nd half of the night in our hotel room a good tip
↳maxverstappen1 WHAT AM I READING
↳charles_leclerc asking myself the same question @/maxverstappen1
↳arthur_leclerc too much information
↳carlossainz55 Does it mean I don't have to keep the secret anymore?
maxverstappen1 Delete this post
↳y/n_verstappen no ❤️
josverstappen7 Gelukkig nieuwjaar maar ik vind deze fotos niet leuk*
↳y/n_verstappen wtf @/maxverstappen1
*happy new year but I don't like these photos
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landonorris I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter, she is the best thing that's ever been mine
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y/n_verstappen *not so* careful, but you get a point for Taylor Swift lyrics
↳landonorris I'm literally in love with you
↳y/n_verstappen surely not more than I am in love with you ❤️
↳charles_leclerc cringe
↳arthur_leclerc cringe
↳oscarpiastri cringe
↳logansargeant cringe
↳yourfriend1 shut up all of you
y/n_verstappen btw just because I'm in love with you doesn't mean I can't kill you for posting the third pic
↳landonorris pls you'd never
↳y/n_verstappen I still have the screenshot that could make Max crash into you 🔫
carlossainz55 Finally, I was starting to worry
↳username2 WAR IS OVER 😭
oscarpiastri So happy for you guys!
↳landonorris double date when?
maxverstappen1 You're the only person I'd accept as my brother in law
↳landonorris thanks champ xx 🙏
↳username3 HE'S SO SASSY I CANT-
↳charles_leclerc what about @/arthur_leclerc? I thought you liked him, I thought we had plans
↳y/n_verstappen YOU HAD PLANS?
↳arthur_leclerc YOU HAD PLANS?
↳landonorris YOU HAD PLANS?
username5 I'd love to see Y/n and Arthur as a couple, but I'm so happy for her and Lando 😭
↳username3 nahhh Y/n and Arthur totally have besties vibe, siblings even, can't imagine them as a couple
username1 okay guys so do you think they speak dutch or english when they're alone?
↳username3 Do you think Lando can speak dutch well enough?
↳username1 well, I don't know, just wondering, but he's half Belgian
↳username5 I imagine their conversations to be mostly english mixed with dutch and french, very chaotic and people around don't get anything they say
↳yourfriend1 I can confirm this, it's very frustrating for a person who knows only english
↳username1 does Y/n know french?
↳y/n_verstappen I was forced to learn both french AND italian hanging out with Charles and Arthur, and with Lando I speak mostly english, but I try to mix some dutch into it, however no french here because I'm traumatized <3
↳username1 aaaaaa we love a multilingual queen 🫶
↳username3 so now Lando learns dutch for both his mother and his girlfriend 🥹
↳y/n_verstappen he has a lot to learn, but at least his flemish accent is kinda cute!!
939 notes · View notes
b00tyliciousbabe · 1 year ago
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gingerbread
himbo bf x male reader
summary: spending time with your boyfriend and his family for the holidays. some fluff, lil angst, bad jokes (i apologise in advance), and minimal smut of course.
notes: merry chrysler! hope y’all pretty people are doing amazing. notoriously indecisive in true bootylicious fashion, i settled on one of my fave typa men - gentle giant himbos. think danny wheeler from baby daddy. now, i would never call my men dumb, but always be saying real stupid things. there’s a specific kind of wonder that you can see in their eyes…i’m whipped.
disclaimer: i also tried to keep it as open to as many tastes as possible, so a lot of who he is, you can do create yourself. but i had to make him a bit of a redhead, they too fine.
y’all better gass me because the way i wrote this 3 hours before the end of xmas day, enjoy babies <3
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saved in his phone as gingerbread - he’s a ginger, and you get bred xx
you always loved spending time with your boyfriend’s family, almost as much as they loved you. his mother was the first to catch Y/N fever, mostly because you reminded her of herself and it was a relief to know that someone could handle her son’s antics . then it was his brothers, they loved how mellow you made him, as if all of his struggles melted away when you waltzed into his life. they felt like your guardians, wanting to protect you because they knew how much you meant to their baby brother. and his sisters…they’re lowkey your best friends. when you first met, y’all got on so well with one another bonding over fashion, pop culture, and weirdly philosophy.
his dad liked you as a person, believing you were a kind soul, but not the person for his son, because of how different you two were. they were a quiet luxury kinda family, which didn’t necessarily coincide with how connected you were with celebrities. this was until he saw how well you worked together. whilst working on a huge project for the family business, your boyfriend was stressed in the office. you walked in, ready to go on a date after he’d finished. ‘hey baby, you look hot, where you going?’ he’d forgotten, but you never held it against him. you loved to see the cogs turn in his head as he came to a realisation. ‘shit. it’s date night.’ he groaned head in hands. ‘I’m so sorry Y/N, work’s just been so busy, the clients wanted to move the order forward, the contractors needed more data on the financial markets, and…’ you sat down on his desk, holding his chin so you guys exchanged eye contact. ‘babe, it’s all good, i know it’s a really busy time for you.’ you stroked his face reassuringly, a sigh of relief emitted from his lips. ‘i ain’t leaving your side, we’re in this together,’ you said as you went in for a kiss. it was deep and sensual, and if you didn’t stop when you did, you would’ve left that room walking side to side. ‘so, what can i help with?’ you responded, looking at the documents on the desk. he stared up lovingly, ‘i don’t deserve you,’ he admitted ‘too good to me.’ which garnered a little chuckle from you. his dad saw how supportive you were, pulling an all-nighter for the benefit of your man. you were so tired that the two of you spooned on the couch in his office, and slept there. early the next morning, the two of you were met with a breakfast course on the coffee table and your respective starbucks orders. you kissed your bf goodbye, so he could work, and just as you were about to leave, his father stopped you. ‘good morning Y/N, did you enjoy the food?’ he questioned as you entered the elevator together. ‘it was lovely sir, thank you.’ you replied hesitantly. ‘the only thanks due is to you, i appreciate how you’re always there for my son.’ you smiled inside, longing to prove yourself to him. ‘I love him sir, he needs to know that any problem he has, automatically becomes our problem to solve together.’ he knew at that moment, you were the perfect fit.
one of the core memories of your relationship was the weekend in the alps. your boyfriend thought this would’ve been the perfect opportunity to have some alone time with you before the new year. with award season coming up, many celebrities needed to be styled, you legit had no time to see him, it was going to be amazing. you stayed in the chalet his parents owned, but neither of you knew that it’d be an entire sibling getaway. the two of you snuggled under the blankets, drinking hot chocolate, whilst listening to some quiet smooth jazz in the background. revelling in how cozy and warm it was, he was dozing off whilst cuddling and you decided to follow suit, but not before a quick kiss on your bf’s nose - he’s so cute. unfortunately, like most precious things, this didn’t last long. there was a huge clatter at the door, awakening you two. ‘what the fuck are you guys doing here?’ your man blasted at them. ‘oh hey lil bro,’ one of them said as the others made themselves feel at home. ‘we heard you lovebirds were here and wanted to see Y/N again, we missed him.’ they all waved at you. you blushed and immediately got up greet them all with hugs and squeals. ‘omds, i haven’t see you guys in ages, we have so much to catch up on.’ you blurted out in an excited frenzy. your love, on the other hand, didn’t share the same energy. whilst you had walked to his sisters, his brothers playfully punched your bf to cheer up. ‘you idiots, have the worst timing, he said as they got ready to get some wood for the chimney.
it was just you and the girls, as you gossiped about the drama that went down during fashion week as they ate up every word. you mostly had done a lot of listening to their relationship dramas and work lives, as you shared a couple giggles. you has made gingerbread men, as his sisters watched the master at work. ‘Y/N, these are delicious, how are you so good at everything?’ they praised which made you blush. the boys had returned, with your man wincing with pain as his brothers carried him in. ‘the dummy tripped on the snow’ they said snickering as you walked to help him. ‘how many times have i told you to be careful out there?’ you said, concerningly staring at the bruise on his hip. you touched it gently earning a wince from him as he pushed away your hand. ‘sorry babe.’ he stared dead in your eye and looked away, giving you the silent treatment. ‘what do you need?’ he continued airing. ‘i’m gonna get some bandages’ you said, unsure of what you did to hurt him emotionally.
‘the fuck is wrong with you?’ his sisters protested, thumping his head. ‘ow! what do you mean?’ ‘that boy loves you, so much so that he puts up with all of your shit and stupidity.’ they come to your defence. he looks to his brothers for help, but to no avail. ‘dude, I’ll be real, you fucked up.’ one says. ‘he was just trying to help’ another adds. like the youngest, he continues to deflect ‘well, if you guys hadn’t come, i wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and me and Y/N would have been happier. he finally admitted. ‘oh damn.’ their faces became gentler as they circled in on him. ‘I just never get to see him now, with work and everything, and i don’t want him to get used to not seeing me’ he started to get teary but hid it behind a scowl. ‘bro, you are meant to be with Y/N, i see it in your eyes every time he walks into a room, like he’s the only one there.’ your bf smiles at the mere thought of your face. ‘see, he ain’t even here and you’re cheesing so bad rn.’ they all laugh. ‘i don’t know how to tell him, he’s so good at communicating his feelings, i just, i just can’t do it the way he does.’ his heart begins to beat faster. ‘that’s the thing though, he knows you better than you know yourself.’ the eldest brother says ‘there’s nothing that he won’t be able to understand because the two of are so connected.’
you enter with the bandages and medical supplies. ‘here’s a chance to fix that’ his twin sister says as they leave and move to the other side of the mansion, locking the door behind them as they wave you bye for now. you sit beside him on the sofa, placing a hot compress on his bruise. ‘Y/N, we need to talk.’ you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine by being stand-offish ‘speak then.’ you say glaring into his eyes that made you melt every time but now. ‘i am so sorry for my rude behaviour, i know you were just tryna help my stubborn ass.’ you continued tending to his wounds, with an apathy rivalled only by the unconditional love you have for him. ‘whatever.’ you muttered. ‘aw, come on baby, don’t be like that.’ he grimaced. ‘like what,’ your voice growing in confidence ‘like someone who, as hard as they try, can never get their boyfriend to fully open up?’ you admitted. ‘you know that’s not the whole story.’ he looks down. ‘mkay’ you say, tired of arguin, he just needed to cool off. he takes a deep breath. ‘Y/N, you know i love you more than anything ’ your boyfriend boldly states, deepening your eye contact. ‘and you know i love you the same, but sometimes love is not enough,’ you struggle to get the words out, getting choked up as you hold his cheek for stability. he turns to kiss you, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. he caresses your thigh, as your tongues dance for dominance in the warmth of your mouth. you pulled back. ‘here goes nothing, babe, I’m afraid, afraid of losing you.’ he admitted desperately. ‘we barely ever see each other and I’m scared that it has, um, like, maybe, um’ he failed to articulate his thoughts, angering him further. ‘calm down love, i hear what you’re saying. you’re worried about the possibility of us being comfortable with rarely seeing one another and what that means for us.’ you always knew how to soothe his heart. ‘exactly, you’re just so good at letting me know what we need to do to make this relationship work that I’m clueless at asking for help.’ he smiled earning a chuckle from you. ‘we’re in this together boo, you won’t ever lose me.’ as he sneers into another smooch. ‘fuck.’ he moaned into your mouth as a tent forms in his boxers. ‘your voice always gets me going.’ you looked down and immediately dropped to your knees.
you hadn’t sucked your boyfriend’s cock in what seemed like forever. you pulled his boxers to his ankles as his thick cock sprung up, throbbing in the cool air of the room. you grabbed his pole, gaslighting him into thinking you were going to start at the tip. instead you began to massage his beefy, low-hanging balls in your mouth. ‘Y/N, fuck, that’s where the spunk is stored, not where you drink it from’ he snickered, removing them from your mouth. ‘you’ve got to st-UGHHHH’ you deepthroated with ease, loving how his dumb, naive nature was still translated to your time in the sheets. ‘that’s it baby, good boy’ he praises, looking at the slobber that made his dick glisten. ‘shit.’ he cums without warning, giving you an impromptu facial. ‘sorry darling, i came as soon as i saw you slap my dick on your thick lips.’ your boyfriend helped you to clean up, pushing his hand all over your face and fingering your mouth with his nut.
you moved to undressing, as you straddled your man. ‘i know you wanna pound me into tomorrow, but you can’t,’ gesturing to his bruise. he whined and cooed. ‘however…’ you whispered into his ear, jerking him of with a mix of his cum and your spit ‘imma help my man out tonight.’ as you sank onto his schlong with ease. his hands immediately grabbed your globes, as he licked his lips salaciousy, enjoying your physique. ‘so fucking hot.’ your bf mumbled. you started bouncing on his cock as he slowly rutted in you from beneath, your hole was already sore.
it was gonna be a long night…
@gayaristocrat imma save your fantasy for dacre, that man is 90s fine fr
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foli-vora · 1 month ago
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masterlist | foli jolly xmas list
A/N: gif by moi. Yeah I recycled the same from part 2 idc. Are you telling me it's been two fucking years since I wrote this? Get out. The flow of time is fake. Everything was against me this week trying to get this fucking thing out but I finally got there! Merry late Christmas, angels! Thank you all for being so fucking wonderful and supportive and patient with me while I worked out a really messy year and I wish you all nothing but the very best! Enjoy x
Word count: just shy of 7k
Warnings: cheesy hallmark romance, I want to be kissed by a cowboy under the mistletoe. Swearing, this hot af man, a solid semi-public make out sesh with said hot af man, SOFTNESS! so much fucking softness I want to throw up, smut with all the feels 18+ ONLY: soft and sweet and so fucking tender I'm so into it, fingering, oral (f rec), this man practically makes out with pussy and I won't hear otherwise, bit of hair pulling, mention of the implanon, unprotected p in v and a christmas creampie yay
PART ONE | PART TWO
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It’s quite the occasion, he finds. This Christmas Eve ball-party thing. The whole town and more is there, crammed into the town hall decorated heavily with tinsel and lights and spilling out onto the snowy grounds around in the form of various food and Christmas stalls. There are craft tables full of parents with their kids, a little choir singing carols, and people having a snowman contest in the taped off carpark.
There’s an older man dressed as Santa sitting on a big seat for family photos, joyfully laughing and ho-ho-hoing as kids wander by in awe. Jack watches on comfortably, not yet interested in pursuing any of the stalls or food until he knows if you and the kids have eaten.
Despite his general dislike of the holiday, it’s hard to not feel… well, merry, and it has a content smile tugging at his lips. If Tequila could see him now, he’d never let him live it down. He’d get matching Christmas ties or some other ridiculous shit. Maybe there’s somewhere he could buy one for the agent here, he’s sure you’d find that funny.
“That’s not the real Santa,” Gabe says suddenly, appearing beside him.
Jack startles from being broken from his mental reverie, briefly wondering if a couple of weeks worth of leave had gone and ruined his well tuned Statesman senses. Champ would only have himself to blame. He turns expectantly, heart hammering wildly from the hope you’d be only a few paces behind your boy, but when he looks he finds you nowhere to be seen.
Gabe continues, oblivious to the way Jack shifts and deflates next to him.
“The real one’s too busy, so he gets George to step in. He does it every year.”
“Is that right? Suppose he would be a busy man.”
“Are you kidding? One night to get around the whole world? Dude’s insane.”
Jack grins, looking down at the boy and noting his styled hair. “You’re lookin’ sharp tonight, kid. You brush your hair?”
“Mum made me,” Gabe grumbles, ruffling his neatened curls with a thick gloved hand. “She’s in the hall with Lou, if you were wondering.”
“And why would I be wonderin’ that?”
The boy gives him a look, something bordering the line of smug and Jack rolls his eyes, giving him a gentle shove. Jesus, even the damn kid knows.
“Cut it out.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You didn’t have to. Now go on, lead the way. And stop lookin’ at me like that, or I’ll tell the big guy you need to go on the naughty list this year.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I would. Believe me. You think he doesn’t know about you hustlin’ me out of my hard earned money? You’re messin’ with fire, kid. You’re probably already on it.”
“Should’ve gotten more lights. I told him, you know.” Edith tuts to herself, frowning up at the hall ceiling.
You briefly pause from fussing over the cake competition table and glance up at the warm fairy lights dangled and intertwined between tinsel and garlands. She’s worrying over nothing, as always. Every year it’s a winter wonderland—inside and out, and this year is certainly no different. Has Jack seen it all yet? What does he think of it?
“Edith, any more lights and people would need sunglasses in here. Everything looks wonderful, as always. Now please relax and have some rum with your eggnog before your heart gives out. You don’t need to worry about anything tonight, leave it to the committee.”
“The only thing I’ll worry about is you not getting on top of that cowboy.”
You and me both, Edith.
You snort, directing your attention back to the cake stands and ensuring every label was front and centre. “On second thought, maybe stay away from the rum.”
“Speaking of the cowboy, here he comes. Fix your dress.”
“What’s wrong with my dress?”
It’s too late to worry, that southern drawl melts into your ears as he jokes about something with Gabe within the next few seconds and suddenly your insides are twisting and turning upside down. You play around with the table some more, gathering up a bit of courage before turning and smiling at Jack.
“Hi,” you breathe softly, cheeks already warming as his eyes meet yours.
Does this man ever not look like pure sin?
“Hey sugar,” he greets with a grin of his own. “You look incredible.”
“Oh, this old thing?” You tease, running a hand over the brand new dress you had painstakingly agonised over in an attempt to impress a stranger only in town for a few weeks. You’d spent an admittedly ridiculous amount of time in the local boutique trying and retrying dresses trying to find the right one. God, he doesn’t need to know that. “Not looking too bad yourself, cowboy.”
“Save a dance for me, won’t you, Jack?” Edith rasps sweetly, acting the innocent and delicate elderly lady and tapping his arm softly.
“Just try and stop me, ma’am.”
She wanders off into the crowds, more than happy to be stopped along her way to be praised on the decorations. She’s still going on about the damn lights.
“So what’s all this?” Jack asks in interest, body brushing yours as he steps up beside you to eye the table.
“It’s the yearly Christmas bake off, which I unfortunately have to judge as the town's resident baker.”
“Unfortunately?”
“I don’t like judging people's creations. They’re all wonderful and everyone always puts so much effort into it… makes me feel like a villain when I have to pick winners.”
Gabe steps up on your other side and eyes this year's entries. “Mum made a kid cry last year.”
Jack laughs in surprise. “What?”
“I didn’t know it was made by a child, okay?” You stress, rubbing along your brow line as last year's nightmare plays in your mind. After pinning the ribbons in place, a ten year old girl had promptly fallen into tears after not being given one, and you’d felt guilty about it for fucking weeks after. “If I had known, I would’ve picked them.”
“Well that defeats the purpose of it being a competition then, doesn’t it, sugar? You can’t pick a winner just because they’re a kid. I’m sure they knew that upon enterin’.” His hand runs comforting strokes up and down your middle back, entirely innocent, and yet your skin feels like fire beneath his hot palm.
“I think that one is the ugliest.”
Excellent timing, baby.
You sigh, “Gabriel—”
“Ah sugar, I gotta give it to the kid,” Jack drawls, eyes locked on the cake Gabe’s finger levelled at, “I’m thinkin’ it, too.”
“Well… obviously,” you agree quietly, discreetly looking around just in case its creator is somewhere lurking close by, “but we don’t say that out loud. That’s something we keep in our heads, okay?” Your gaze darts between them until they give a nod in agreement.
It’s quiet for a moment longer, Jack’s hand never once straying from your back or ceasing its gentle strokes as you each silently judge each cake, until Gabe smacks his lips and shrugs.
“They definitely lose.”
“Gabriel.”
A little body squeezes itself between you and Gabe, and your hand automatically falls to rest on Lou’s head. She’s quiet, happily making her way through a gingerbread cookie and swaying to the music being performed by the town's little local band when Jack peers curiously around you, smiling indulgently at the little girl.
“There you are, sweetheart. Was worried you didn’t make it tonight, thought I was gonna have to dance by myself.”
She grins shyly, hiding her face in the long length of your dress and forgetting about the half eaten treat in her hand. You don’t blame her, Jack definitely has that effect on people. 
“Will you dance with me, little lady?”
Lou peeks up at Jack from under her lashes. It takes only a minute until she gives a small nod before pressing the cookie into your hold and reaching out to take his large hand in her much smaller one. He gently spins her as he leads her to the dance floor, and her giggles as her bright red tulle dress flows around her can be heard from over the crowds.
You watch them go with a content smile, before moving your gaze to Gabe.
“Would it be totally lame for you to be seen dancing with your mama?” You ask him softly, brushing a hand over his hair. All the kids from his school are here, and you know he’s starting to reach that age where others' opinions may sway his decisions on things. He still lets you hug him at school drop off and pick up though, so maybe you still have a bit of time.
He gives you a toothy grin, looping his arm through yours and pressing into your side. “I don’t care.”
It’s hours later when you finally get him selfishly to yourself, once Lou had promptly fallen asleep on your thick winter coat spread over some chairs in the corner and Gabe had been whisked away to a snowball fight with the other kids. Jack had approached after your yearly duty had been completed with thankfully no one falling into tears, and asked you to dance.
You don’t usually dance. Not properly, anyway. Swinging the kids around and twirling them under your arm while they giggle and jump along is one thing, but this? Tucked up close to someone and trying not to trample on their toes? You haven’t done this in a long time. 
Jack doesn’t seem to mind, and with the feel of him pressed up against you? You don’t care if you seem a little awkward. It gives you both a chance to talk, and without interruptions. You ask more about his work, his life, which he seems to still not want to divulge in as much as you had hoped. He does tell you a little more about himself though, what he enjoys during his limited free time and that he’s starting to realise he doesn’t get away from work as much as he probably should.
“Maybe you should invest in a holiday cabin,” you tease, head tilting in a playful manner as you sway between the other locals crowding the hall. “I’ve heard they’re pretty popular to rent out when you don’t need it.”
“That’s not a bad idea, darlin’. Know any good locations?”
“Nowhere local, I’m afraid. You don’t fit in.”
He makes a low noise of understanding, pushing you softly away only for him to spin you under his arm and drag you right back up against him. You’re fucking giddy at the movement.
“Too handsome?”
“Too much of a grinch.”
“Hey now, that’s not fair. I ate a candy cane.”
“And I heard you singing along to a Christmas song, too.”
“Me? I would never,” he responds gruffly, but when his gaze slides to meet yours he grins. “It’s your fault, sugar. What’re you doin’ to me?”
“Working my Christmas magic.”
Christmas magic? Is that what you’re calling this? He feels like a damn school boy, twirling a pretty girl around at a winter dance. He quite likes it. Working at the office and back to back missions have filled his days sure, but there’s a slight tug of loneliness he hasn’t quite been able to hide with distractions for a long time. It feels damn nice to finally soothe that.
His eyes dance across your face, the hand splayed on your lower back tightening and bringing you in impossibly closer. “You’re workin’ some kind of magic, that's for damn sure.”
Holy shit. Heat immediately flares beneath your skin and spreads across your cheeks, biting sharply at your ears. What a smooth bastard. You fight the urge to shyly curl in on yourself, instead letting your grin widen in amusement as you trail your hand from his shoulder to the base of his neck. 
“Is that right?” You ask softly, fingers gently twisting and carding through the small patch of hair you could reach from under his stetson. He likes that, you discover quickly, catching the way his eyes drop to your lips the second your nails scratch lightly over his skin. Noted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, cowboy.”
His chest heaves with a sigh, his lips never losing that charming upturn. 
Shaking his head at your playful antics, he coaxes you to rest your head on his shoulder with a rumbled, “C’mere,” and it’s impossible not to melt into a fucking puddle right then and there. Thank god he’s got a good hold on you. He thinks you’re working magic? Then what the hell is this?
“You can’t do that. It’s not fair.”
“Do what?” His drawl rumbles into your body from the close proximity and settles thickly in the pit of your stomach. You feel the slightest brush of lips over the shell of your ear and fight the urge to shiver. 
“That. This.”
You’re so incredibly aware of him, of every move and touch. It’s overwhelming, maddening, and you want so much more. He absolutely knows what he’s doing, feels the way you’re practically jelly in his hold. His lips press into the side of your head before his breath ghosts your ear again, and this time you can’t fight the tremble when he speaks lowly.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, sugar.”
Air. You fucking need air.
Jack must feel the same, or at least know what you need, because as soon as you pull away to meet his eyes, he’s giving you one of those heart achingly handsome smiles and gently leading you through the people towards the doors. The night air nips at your uncovered skin, cooling the heated feel of it and thankfully bringing some clarity to your mind. 
Any more of that low honey drawl in your ear and mouth watering aftershave sinking into your nostrils and you would’ve absolutely made a fool out of yourself in front of your friends and neighbours. The last thing you need is to be the topic of town gossip for mounting a tourist right in the middle of the bloody dancefloor.
The few steps are thankfully clear of people when you tread just outside of the hall doors, with the late hour bringing most of the remaining people inside as the temperature drops. The food trucks and stalls had been mostly dismantled and packed away, those remaining still working away before the snow comes in and otherwise ignoring you and Jack lingering on the steps.
You feel the slight tingle of nerves all of a sudden, which is ridiculous considering the amount of time you’ve spent with him recently. Maybe it’s because this is your first time properly alone, without the kids running around and without having to say goodbye. You have time to just be, to enjoy his company and not have to worry about interruptions.
“Forgive me for sayin’ so, sugar,” Jack murmurs, halting your train of thought and bringing your attention fully to him, “but I can’t help but notice—that looks an awful lot like mistletoe up there.”
You fight the immediate tug pulling at the edges of your lips and glance up to where he points, spying the familiar cream bulbs amongst a sprig of fresh green leaves wrapped neatly in a small red bow.
“I believe you’re right, cowboy.”
“Now hear me out… I know I ain’t big on this whole festive season thing, but I figure it’d be mighty rude of me to break a well loved tradition.”
“I agree,” you breathe in reply, eyes falling to where his lips morph into an indulgent smile before snapping back up to meet his warm brown eyes. They’re soft, radiating with such a sweet tenderness that you feel it deep in your chest.
A warm hand cups the side of your throat softly, his thumb brushing your jaw delicately and it’s ever so easy to lean into the touch and relish in the comfort it provides. Your breath seems to hold as he moves in, stepping closer until you feel the brush of his jacket against your torso through the thin material of your dress. He holds for a moment, seemingly content to let his gaze roll along your features before he gives another little smile.
“Would you mind, darlin’?”
Returning his smile is automatic—it simply can’t be helped.
“Not at all, Jack.”
The tickle of his moustache and tender press of his soft lips is nothing short of perfection. You don’t feel the bite of the cold, you don’t hear the music and the laughter and the constant roll of chatter from the hall. It’s just him. Just Jack. It’s all Jack. 
He pulls away far too soon, and you merely make a low noise of denial before curling your fingers into his shirt and pulling him gently back for more. He indulges you with a throaty chuckle, lips returning to yours with a little more pressure, a little more wanting. This time his tongue ever so slightly comes to trace your lips, and they part immediately, the kiss deepening until you feel the effects of it right down to your toes. 
If you thought you were in trouble before, you don’t stand a chance now. The faint traces of peppermint still linger on his tongue and you chase the taste eagerly, stomach in knots when an arm curls around your body to bring you flush against his. Though you’re lost in the feel and taste of him, Jack remains aware of the goings on around you both and inwardly curses the sound of people nearing the door inside of the hall.
Words are mumbled against your lips. 
“Darlin’, is there somewhere we can go a little more private?”
He’s not quite finished with you yet, and he’ll be damned if anyone’s cutting this short. Your boy included. He’s a great kid and all, but not the best with his damn timing. You don’t even realise your hands have wandered, finding a home on his hips and fisting desperately at his shirt.
Private? There’s nowhere private in this town, especially here. The hall is practically the centre of it. There’s out the back, you suppose, where the dumpsters are. It’ll have to do, because you need more of those lips preferably as soon as fucking possible. 
You snatch his hand and start leading the way, the icy air nipping at your arms. 
“Is there nowhere inside? You’ll catch your death out here,” Jack speaks behind you with a tinge of concern as you lead him down the steps and around the building. 
“Guess you’ll have to keep me warm, then.”
“I got no problems with that, sugar, believe me, but still—”
There’s rustling, his hand pulling softly out of yours and then the cover of something heavy and warm, smelling distinctly of that intoxicating cologne that has your mouth watering, over your shoulders. You shift in his jacket, smiling at the typical chivalry that seems to come so naturally from him.
Jack eyes your surroundings when you eventually get around the building, not exactly pleased by the thought of not being able to give you the romantic environment you deserve, but he can’t see or hear anyone in close range and that’s damn good enough for him. He sweeps you into his arms, grinning at your little sharp cry of surprise and crowds you into the wall, his jacket saving your thinly covered shoulders from rubbing against the rough brick facade.
Settling back against the building with a smile of your own, you blink sweetly up at him and tilt your head in playful curiosity. “Is there something I can help you with, cowboy?”
“Yes, darlin’, as a matter of fact there is.”
His hot breath sweeps over your lips and they part in anticipation, your heart beating heavily in your chest as his nose brushes along your own. He drags it out, teasingly pulling away at the last second when you get only centimetres away from his lips and grinning when you make a low noise of impatience.
“Did you need somethin’, sugar?” He drawls deeply, warm brown eyes hooded as they flick between your eyes and lips.
“Oh, shut up,” you groan softly, tangling your fingers into the front of his shirt and tugging him forward. His mouth slants messily over yours, a sudden tangle of tongue and teeth, and you can’t help but moan softly at the overwhelming intensity of it.
A sound that has the power to be his entire fucking undoing, he finds as it ricochets through his ears and right to the very core of him.
Gone is the tender moment of before, cuddled under mistletoe and filled with the warmth of something sweet and unknown. He presses into you fully, firmly, his body pinning you to the wall and giving you the chance of feeling dip and curve of him. His hands grab at your waist, fingers digging roughly into your skin and you curl into him even further, your own hands finding and clutching at his broad shoulders.
You’re left panting against the side of the building when you eventually part, the sound of shouts and laughter off in the distance cutting through the dizzying haze that had fallen over your mind. Jack’s no better, clearly struggling to regulate his own breathing as he braces himself against the wall with his palms, effectively caging you in.
One shared glance and you both dissolve into quiet laughter, either the kiss or the cold bringing a charming pink tinge to Jack’s cheeks, which you trace softly with icy fingers.
“I think the snow’s about to come in, I should get the kids home. Are you still okay to give us a ride?”
“Of course, but I’ll uh… I’ll catch up with you, sugar. I’m gonna need a minute.”
Despite the obvious exhaustion hanging in the kid’s limbs, he does a damn good job of fighting the call of sleep long enough to set up for the big visit. Cookies that absolutely had to be presented on a christmas tree dish, a glass of cold milk and nine individual carrots. When Jack asks if using the whole bag was necessary, Gabe levels him with an unimpressed glare.
“One carrot isn’t enough for nine reindeer.”
“That’s a fair point.”
“Will you still be here in the morning?”
Jack casts a glance towards the kitchen, where he can hear you washing the cups that were used for hot chocolate upon getting home. “Uh, probably not, kid.”
Gabe deflates with a quiet oh, his face falling into a little frown. He shifts on his feet, gaze moving from the twinkling Christmas tree to Jack before stepping closer and wrapping his arms around the man. Jack holds still, not exactly sure how to take the sudden sweet affection from the boy whose love language was calling him lame and taking his money.
“Well, Merry Christmas, Jack,” the boy mumbles into his chest, and Jack swallows the sudden feel of something building in the back of his throat as he returns the embrace. 
“Merry Christmas, kid,” he rasps quietly, hand stroking through the hat flattened curls on the back of his head. 
“Alright mister, time to hit the hay.”
Gabe releases his hold as you reenter the room and nods, giving Jack one last smile before making his way to the stairs. You follow behind him, stopping him on the third step and spinning him softly to face you.
“Did you brush your teeth?”
“Yes mum,” he sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling and back.
Grinning, you fix his baggy pyjama top and plant a kiss on his cheek. “And what about your Christmas wish?”
“I don’t need to make it anymore,” he shrugs, and you recoil in surprise. “My wish has been the same for ages, and I think it’s coming true now.”
“Oh?” You frown in curiosity, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. He’s never told you what he wishes for, so the fact he thinks it’s suddenly coming true has you wondering what it could be. “Can I ask what it is?”
“Nope,” he grins, casting one final glance towards Jack before giving you a cuddle and starting back up the stairs. “Night mum.”
You watch him go with a look of interest, listening to the creak of his bedroom door as he closes it behind him. Did he somehow know he was getting a new iPad? Did he find it stashed away before you could wrap it? Damn, you thought you hid it so well. 
“He’s a real good kid,” Jack says from where he lounges against the doorframe of the living room. “They both are.”
“I know,” you smile.
The conversation echoes the one you had when he first came over, and the memory isn’t lost on Jack either as he grins in return. 
“I had a good time tonight, sugar. I suppose this festive season stuff isn’t too bad, after all. Don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“Your secret is safe with me.”
His grin widens briefly as he looks back to the tree, uncertainty beginning to stir in the pit of his stomach. It’s probably getting to that time of the night where he should leave you to it, no doubt you’d have a few things to organise before going to bed yourself, but he doesn’t want to just yet. Can’t seem to find the strength to grab his stetson and jacket and say goodbye.
He doesn’t want it to seem like he’s expecting anything to happen. The night could end with that kiss shared against the hall and he’d leave a damn happy man, but curiosity has him waiting, wondering what move you’d make next, if any. You don’t say anything for a few moments, comfortable with the silence you share as you each watch the other.
Louisa’s long gone and lost to dreams, the girl barely able to keep her eyes open for more than thirty seconds when Jack pried her from the car to bring her inside. Gabe’s ability to fall asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow should be scientifically studied, so you wouldn’t have to worry about him either.
You quietly start making your way up the stairs, pausing just half way up and glancing back at Jack over your shoulder. He’s watching, waiting. The shy little sultry smile you send him is all the invitation he needs.
Knowing he’s right there and following your footsteps has your heart going wild with every step you take closer to your bedroom. A hand presses to the small of your back when you eventually reach your door and push it open, Jack moving damn near silent as the grave as he steps in behind you and closes the door.
“I haven’t done this in a long time,” you admit, nerves finally getting the better of you when his eyes land on you.
“Don’t you worry about that, sugar,” he replies, stepping forward to cup your jaw and you turn into his hand, seeking the reassuring touch. “Now you’re sure about this?”
A silly question.
“More than anything.”
His mouth is on yours as soon as he hears your words, and your head swims from the sweet press of his lips. It’s soft, a moment to put your nerves at ease and work you gently into it, something you’re thankful for as the tension slowly leaks from your shoulders. You follow his lead, letting him kiss you into an absolute frenzy until you feel brave enough to move your hands to unbutton his shirt and push it from his shoulders.
It’s when you trail your hands softly over his ribs and stomach does he kiss you deeper and let his own hands wander, palms smoothing over your sides and back before finding the zipper of your dress. You hold your breath as he tugs at it, shivering at the warm fingers that run along your bare skin when it’s finally open.
You slip your arms out of the short sleeves and let the fabric puddle at your feet, your bra quickly following, and your body warms under the way he unashamedly rakes his eyes over you in the muted light of your bedroom. 
“Lay down for me, darlin’. Let me take care of you.”
He watches as you sink into your mattress and wiggle yourself up the bed until your head rests comfortably on your pillows, that charming grin you love oh so much tugging at his lips when you give him another shy smile. 
“You’re beautiful.”
He’s one to talk, standing at the foot of your bed shirtless and looking like that.
“And you’re too far away.”
Your thighs part as he climbs onto the bed after you, crawling between your spread legs and over your body, chasing the taste of your mouth before directing his attention to your jaw, and then your throat. His teeth nip at your skin, his tongue soothes the brief tinge of pain away, and you don’t know whether you’re trying to pull him closer or push him away with the more he works your body into an absolute fever.
Fingers trace the waistband of your underwear and your heart starts to beat that much harder in your chest you think he must be able to feel it under his lips. You start to squirm beneath him when his fingers slip beneath the fabric and run softly over your core, brushing over the slick build of arousal and tracing your clit.
“Fuck—”
“Easy,” he murmurs soothingly against your skin, and you swear you hear a smile in his tone.
A thick finger slides into you, probing and curling against your hot walls before a second joins, and the stretch burns in the best of ways. He works you open slowly, more than content to go at his own leisurely pace and indulge in every twitch of slick muscle and quiet moan he can pull from your lips as he kisses his way along your body.
By the time his mouth reaches your stomach, you’re an absolute mess.
He pulls his fingers from your pussy to rid you of your underwear and you whine at the sudden loss of them filling you, but anticipation builds deep in the pit of your stomach as he settles comfortably between your spread legs, arms hooking under your thighs until they rest over his shoulders.
“Are you trying to kill me, cowboy?” You breathe weakly, biting at your lower lip when you feel his warm breath blow over your pussy.
He chuckles softly, “Sorry, sugar.”
The feel of his tongue making a path between your entrance and clit feels like anything but an apology. Your hand flies to his hair, fingers tangling tightly in it as he applies pressure to your clit, lips sucking at it softly and tongue rubbing slow, firm circles until you could almost go mad from the steady lull of it.
He likes to take his time.
There’s no rush with Jack, no quick foreplay so he can turn around and ask for his turn and get right to what he wants. He seems to enjoy working you up as much as you enjoy being victim to it. He waits until you’re breathless to change course, to alternate between building up your climax with firm laps of tongue and then letting it die down to taste you deeper, open mouth flush to your pussy as his tongue tastes you right from the source, and then right back up to start all over again. 
Again and again.
“Jack, please—”
You feel a touch of teeth against your clit as he grins and you think then and there that he really is out to kill you. Slowly, and very fucking nicely.
“You can handle a little more, sugar.”
“No, no I really can’t. Please, please do something—”
He groans softly against you, and the vibrations against your clit have your fingers tightening in his hair. He does like that. You tug at it some more, breathing another few pleas for good measure and finally—finally—you get what you want. He breaks free of his routine, tongue merciless as it strokes and rubs into your clit.
There’s no room to wiggle or squirm free of his hold. His arms lock around your thighs, giving you no room for reprieve as he chases your climax and you can only endure, barely remembering to keep your noises to a minimum as he drags you up and over the edge and then some.
You’re trembling in his hold when he finally breaks free of you, sweat slicking your brow and clit throbbing from the overstimulation. That damn smile is back on his face when he eventually crawls back over you, placing a wet messy kiss to the corner of your lips when you can only manage a half hearted glare his way.
“How’re you holdin’ up?”
“Shut up.”
“That’s the second time you’ve told me to shut up tonight.”
“Yeah, well… you deserve it.”
He chuckles quietly, resting his body weight against yours and you whine at the rough press of denim to your sensitive flesh. Your eyes flutter closed when his lips close over yours, his moustache wet and slick with your arousal. It’s hard to feel self conscious about any of it when he’s kissing you like this—tenderly, hungrily.
“Jeans,” you murmur into his mouth, hands tugging impatiently at his belt until he kneels and undoes the thick leather band and begins to slip out of his pants.
He’s back over you within minutes and you relish the feel of hot skin against yours, the heavy feel of his hard cock resting against your core. Your pussy clenches as he gives a small thrust against you.
“Do you have anything?”
“I don’t exactly get a lot of action, cowboy. Do you?”
“I wasn’t really expecting to sleep with the town's prettiest baker, sugar.” He grins, eyes warm as they dance across your face. He kisses you again, soft and reassuring. “It’s alright, we don’t have to—”
“No. No, no—please. I’m clean, and I’ve got the rod. Are you—do you—”
“Clean,” he rasps, and with your final nod of encouragement his hips shift until he’s lining himself up and sliding into you. He’s thick, the stretch of him almost too much even with his earlier attentions to get you ready. He stops halfway before pulling back out, only to sink deeper in on the next thrust.
He keeps the pace slow and steady, letting you adjust to the feel of him while kissing you senseless. Your hands are unable to stay in one place too long, going from curling around his neck to keep his mouth on yours, to his shoulders, to his back and hips. You start to rock up to meet his thrusts, coaxing him deeper and harder until he drives into you hard enough to rock the bed and knock the headboard against the wall.
You both freeze at the sudden sound, and he breaks away from your mouth to eye the headboard with a frown. This won’t work, not with the way he wants to have you, the way you obviously want him to have you. And how could he disappoint you? No, this won’t do.
“It’s okay,” you breathe softly with a smile, “we’ll just have to be careful.”
“‘scuse me, sugar,” he mutters after a moment of thought, tugging a pillow free from under your shoulder and leaning up over you to shove it harshly between the headboard and the wall. He gives an experimental heavy thrust of his hips once he deems it in position and your hands scramble for purchase, coming to tightly clutch at his waist.
When the headboard doesn’t knock against the wall again, he gives you a sly look of victory and grins.
“There we go. Now where was I?”
“Doing that again.”
“Of course, how could I forget?” He teases playfully, curling back over you to swallow your broken moans as he resumes the pace he had been working into before.
You clench, tighten and flutter around him as he fucks into you, mouth still so sweet and soft against your own it’s hard to keep up with the contrast of it all.
He kisses you until he physically can’t anymore, breaking away to hide his face into your throat as the slick feel of your pussy builds that tightening growing in the pit of his stomach. He pulls you closer, tangles his fingers with your own, finds every possible way to be even closer still. He wants to drown in you, feel and taste you and be surrounded by nothing but you.
It’s your final barely coherent utter of his name that sends him hurtling off the edge, a long drawn out fuck muffled into the skin of your throat as he feels himself fill you. He doesn’t move from covering you until he’s long gone soft, barely able to bring himself to pull out of you and collapse softly beside you.
His heart hammers in his chest, something else swimming beside the post-climax bliss and he’s not quite sure what to make of it, what to think. This is more than a simple fleeting attraction.
He likes you.
He really fucking likes you. Great sex out of the equation, he likes your company. He likes that you can laugh at and with him. He likes your home and how comfortable he is in it. He likes your kids.
Shit.
Now what?
“You doing okay over there, cowboy?” You ask gently, head rolling to the side to watch him. He’s thinking long and hard about something, and you hope to god it wasn’t something like regret.
“I don’t think I can leave this behind, sugar,” he mutters, eyes locked on the ceiling as he works his way through his thoughts and swallows the brief shake of nerves. “I thought I’d be runnin’ out of town by the time my vacation was up, but this… you and the kids, I don’t think I can leave it so easily.”
He leaves his confession to sink in for a moment, tongue sweeping along his lips as his heart starts to roar in his ears. He can’t look at you, doesn’t want to see the potential rejection build in your eyes before it passes through your lips, so he keeps his eyes away.
“I know I said I don’t have the option of datin’ because of my work, but… would you let me try?”
It’s a long shot. You’ve never had this conversation, never broached potentially taking this further than just a little fleeting moment in your lives. There’s a chance he’s just gone and ruined whatever casual thing you’d both crafted, but it was worth a shot, right?
Maybe he should’ve just kept this to himself and thought more on it back at the cabin.
“Long distance is hard, but we can take it slow,” you decide quietly, smiling softly when his eyes dart to you. “I don’t think I can just let you run out of town and never see you again, cowboy.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Thank Christ. He heaves a sigh of relief and rolls onto his side, coaxing you into his arms and brushing a few fingers gently across your cheek. You turn into the heat of his body, winding an arm around him and letting your fingers dance random patterns up and down his back.
“Would you like to stay for Christmas?” You ask against his chest, nuzzling into his hot skin.
“It’s a special time for the kids, I don’t wanna intrude—”
“You wouldn’t be. You’re invited. They’d love to have you here, if you want to be. Do you think you’ll be able to survive a proper Christmas with us?”
He grins, “I’d love nothin’ more, sugar.”
“So it’s settled. Come on, you grinch. I’ll show you how to play Santa.”
He watches you roll from the bed and tuck yourself into your dressing gown, and you only notice his frown when you’re tying the thin belt and sliding your slippers on.
“What's wrong?”
“The fact that you’re up and walkin’ so damn easily. I’ll take care of that, once we’ve taken care of this.”
The chair next to him is empty when he sits down, and Tequila throws a curious glance Champ’s way. He’d half expected Whiskey to be clawing his way back into the building first thing this morning. His desk had been untouched, the corridors empty of his presence. No one had seen or heard anything about him.
Worry begins to stir in his chest, wondering if they’ve maybe pushed him too hard and he’s gone and quit for another agency, but it quickly dissolves away when he realises Champ’s at ease and unbothered. Losing Jack would hit the older man quite hard, so to see him reclined in his office chair with a cigar in hand is a sign everything is well. 
“Agent Whiskey’s extended his vacation,” Champ states, breaking the silence and answering the questions building on the young agent's tongue. “He’ll be back after New Years.” 
Tequila settles back into his chair and grins. So good ol’ Scrooge ended up having a decent Christmas after all. Good for him.
“Finally enjoyin’ some peace and quiet, then.”
“He’s enjoyin’ somethin’, alright. He’s asked for the weekend of Valentine’s Day off, too.”
—end.
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kk095 · 1 month ago
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Xmas in the ER
*Hello there everyone, and merry Christmas to those who celebrate! As promised, here's my latest story. I hope you all enjoy the story as much as I do, and feel free to shoot me a message, comment, or leave me asks if you have any questions! I will also be posting another story sometime on New Year's Eve.*
As the old saying goes, Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. The holiday is a great opportunity to spend time with loved ones, exchange gifts, and make lifelong memories. But for Dr Lindsay, this year’s Christmas was just another Wednesday where she was tasked with holding down the 7pm to 7am overnight shift in our ER. Naturally, Lindsay was bummed out about the idea of having to work on Christmas, but the emergency department is a 24/7 operation! Little did she know, she’d still have a holiday she’d never forget!
That night, the weather was awful. It was dark, freezing cold, and snowing heavily. Visibility was limited, and the roads were covered in a fresh coat of snow and ice. “Jeez… I bet we’ll have a couple of MVCs tonight.” Lindsay thought to herself shortly after she started driving, trying her best to carefully make her way to work through the frozen, wintery landscape. Fortunately for Lindsay, the roads were mostly empty, most people in the area opting to stay indoors. Even though the roads were empty, the conditions were less than ideal, so she felt the best move was to drive slowly.
Despite Lindsay doing everything in her power to arrive safely at the emergency department, fate had other plans for the cute, sporty tomboy doctor! On the highway about 10 minutes or so from her destination, Lindsay’s car slipped on a patch of ice on the road. The car almost immediately lost control, redirecting the doctor’s vehicle towards a cement barrier in the median of the highway. Lindsay’s heart raced as she white-knuckled the steering wheel, frantically attempting to regain control of the errant vehicle. But it all happened so fast! There was only so much Lindsay could do in those few seconds. Lindsay was unable to stop or change the trajectory of her car and slammed head on into the cement median.
CRUNCH! The windshield shattered, glass fragments flying everywhere inside the vehicle acting almost as little bits of shrapnel. Lindsay raised one arm to attempt to cover her face from the glass shards, but a few nicked her face and neck. The steering column was forced inwards, slamming Lindsay in her chest with tremendous force before being blown back a second or so later when the airbag deployed. “AHHH!” Dr Lindsay yelped, feeling something pop inside her chest. Even with the vehicle stopped after the impact, the momentum generated from the accident caused Lindsay to be thrown around a bit. Just like that, the roles were reversed, and now Lindsay found herself in need of assistance in the ER.
Upon arrival at the emergency department, Lindsay was awake, alert, and doing anything and everything she could to fight through the pain. While being wheeled in through the main entryway of the ER, she was laid out on a backboard atop a gurney with a c-collar around her neck. Lindsay was stripped barefoot, down to just her black sports bra and scrub pants. EKG electrodes and wires were stuck onto her torso, while IV lines were set up in each arm. A blood pressure cuff was wrapped around her left bicep, and a pulse oximeter was on her left index finger. The ER doc’s body was in relatively good shape, but she had some cuts and scrapes on her face and neck from the glass shards.
While being wheeled in, Dr Lindsay was experiencing a weird déjà vu of sorts. She’s walked through those same entryway doors more times than she could count, but she never saw the emergency department from that angle. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of being brought in as a patient. Her pretty blue eyes scanned her surroundings, attempting to make sense of the nonsense. “33 year old female, blunt chest trauma, single car MVC. BP 60 over palp, heart rate’s 140 and climbing, pulse ox down to 90. Got IVs going on scene and started fluids, but her vitals aren’t looking too good.” Lindsay heard a female medic rattle off while wheeling the stretcher down the hall towards trauma room one. “Ok, thank you. Let’s get her over to trauma one. I’m gonna start her on the MTP and get a chest x ray.” A familiar voice replied to the medic. “who is that?” Lindsay thought to herself. “Dr Sarah maybe? I know she was supposed to work the day shift today.” Lindsay answered, still thinking to herself.
The gurney was still being wheeled towards the trauma bay. Dr Sarah leaned over, coming into Lindsay’s line of sight and lowered a stethoscope onto her chest. Sarah didn’t look down at Lindsay’s face, so she didn’t immediately realize who her next patient was. “Diminished breath sounds on the left side, we might need a chest tube.” Sarah observed, pulling her stethoscope away after a brief listen. Dr Sarah then looked down at the gurney, her eyes locking with Lindsay’s. Sarah’s eyes could be seen widening behind her glasses, absolutely stunned at what she was looking at. Sarah gasped, unable to get a word out. “Sarah….?” Lindsay whimpered, her voice weak and breathy. “OHMYGOD, Linds?! What happened?” Marveled Dr Sarah, still processing the concept of Dr Lindsay- a friend and coworker, being her next patient. Lindsay’s lip quivered, her eyes started to moisten. “my car… it just slipped… I don’t know what happened…” Lindsay explained to Sarah, her voice wobbly, now on the verge of tears. “It’s ok Linds, it’s gonna be ok! We’re gonna take a good look at you!” Consoled Sarah, gently grabbing Lindsay’s right hand, her voice a bit panicked.
Once in the trauma room, the stretcher was lined up parallel to the table, where Nurses Heather and Nancy waited. “LINDSAY?!” Heather exclaimed the instant she recognized who the patient was. “Hunny?! What happened?!” Nurse Nancy chimed in, equally surprised. Lindsay didn’t answer, but the familiar voices certainly comforted her through the terrifying uncertainty she was experiencing. “Let’s get her on the table on my count! One… Two… THREE!” Sarah barked out. The trio of beautiful ladies picked up the backboard and carefully moved their coworker onto the table while the paramedics took their stretcher back and exited the room. “Ah….” Winced Lindsay, feeling some pain inside her chest while being placed down on the table. Dr Lindsay squinted, the bright, fluorescent overhead light practically blinding her. “BPs 60 over palp and dropping. Hang 4 units of O-neg and prep Lindsay for a chest tube.” Ordered Dr Sarah, her voice urgent. “Linds? I have to put in a left chest tube. You know how bad they hurt, but be strong for me, ok? I promise I’ll be fast.” Dr Sarah kept Lindsay in the loop about her treatment. Lindsay hesitated for a moment, trying to mentally prepare for the pain she was about to endure. But the logical, doctor side of her took over, realizing that the brutal, painful procedure had to be done. Dr Lindsay’s eyes looked up at Sarah, and she nodded. “Go ahead.” Permitted Lindsay, giving Sarah the green light to begin chest tube placement.
Lindsay laid on the table in the supine position, her left arm raised above along her head. The normally calm and collected Dr Lindsay had a nervous expression on her face. The doctor turned patient’s lips were pinched tight, her forehead puckered, her icy blue-grey eyes looking in the direction of her left ribcage where the tube was to be inserted. She watched Dr Sarah insert a needle full of lidocaine to numb the skin. Lindsay felt a quick pinch, but nothing too worrisome. Sarah then sterilized the incision area with an alcohol wipe. “Ok Linds… Here we go…” The cute, nerdy redhead doctor told Lindsay, reaching for a 10 blade scalpel that sat on an equipment tray beside the trauma room table. Sarah took the scalpel and made a 1 inch cut at the intersection of the 4th intercostal space and anterior axillary line. Lindsay could feel the cold, sharp blade’s every move as it effortlessly slashed her skin apart. Lindsay saw stars, her eyes rolling back in pain. After the cut was made, Sarah attached a Kelly clamp to the proximal end of the chest tube, then bluntly inserted it into Lindsay’s chest cavity. “YAHHH!!!!” Yelped Lindsay, her eyes shooting wide open. Dr Sarah continued the procedure, guiding the tube further into Lindsay’s chest cavity into the pleural space. “AHHHH!!!” Lindsay let out a blood curdling scream, in absolute agony, her eyes tearing up, both her hands making tight fists, feeling the plastic tube forcing its way deeper inside her chest. There was a hiss of air once the tube reached the correct location from trapped air vacating Lindsay’s chest cavity. Lindsay gasped loudly and dramatically, then attempted to sit up. “whoawhoawhoa!” Nurse Heather stepped in, gently laying Lindsay back down on the table. “Stay still for us Linds. So far so good hunny.” Nancy chimed in, gently stroking Lindsay’s hair. Sarah lowered her stethoscope onto Lindsay’s chest and had a listen. “Tube’s in.” Sarah nodded.
Although Lindsay’s breathing improved following the chest tube placement, her vital signs continued to drop. Dr Sarah started another round of blood products and upped Lindsay’s meds, but that didn’t seem to be doing the trick. Lindsay began to shiver dramatically. Her long legs trembled and shook, and at the far end of the bed, her toes were scrunched up hard, showing off the white and red candy cane themed nail polish on her toes, along with the thin, wavy, prominent wrinkles that permeated the soles of the big, size 12 feet Lindsay was always so self conscious of. “Mmmmm…” Lindsay moaned. Dr Lindsay began taking rapid, shallow breaths, continuing to moan. “Shhh. It’s ok Linds. Hang in there a little longer for me…” Nurse Nancy’s calm, soothing voice told Lindsay. “I…I…” Lindsay babbled. “You what sweetie?” asked Nancy. “I just… I can’t believe I’m gonna die on Christmas…” Replied Lindsay, an impending sense of doom consuming her. The trio of caretakers in the room stood there frozen for a second, taken aback by Lindsay’s response. Nobody could believe that words like that were coming from Lindsay’s mouth. “You’re not dying hunny! We need you here New Year’s Eve! You know how we get slammed every year!” Nancy tried to encourage, her tone of voice upbeat and positive. “New Year’s Eve? Pshhh…” Lindsay scoffed, continuing to shiver. “I’m gonna be toe tagged and under a sheet in a little while…. Forget New year’s…” continued Lindsay. “No hunny, don’t say that! We’re gonna fix you up!” Nancy reassured, her voice getting a bit wobbly, upset by how Lindsay was talking about her own fate.
Before Lindsay could even answer, she started gasping loudly, taking deep, dramatic gasps. The heart monitors began beeping louder and faster, playing an almost ominous tone. “She’s crashing…” Heather announced. “linds? Stay with us hunny!” Nurse Nancy said to Lindsay, holding her right hand for a second. Again, Lindsay didn’t answer. Her frantic hyperventilating continued, her eyes WIDE open. “We need to intubate. 8.0 ET and a laryngoscope!.” Ordered Sarah, her voice roaring through the room. “Lindsay? I’m gonna intubate you, ok?” Sarah told Lindsay, moving to the head of the bed. Dr Lindsay looked up at Dr Sarah, their eyes locking for a moment. Lindsay looked like she was trying to mouth something, but couldn’t get the words out. “What’s up Linds?” asked Sarah. Lindsay didn’t answer. Her eyes shifted away from Sarah’s. Lindsay’s eyes remained wide open, but became locked at the ceiling. It was like a switch was flipped. Lindsay’s shivering and gasping came to an abrupt stop. The monitors began to alarm at that point. “V-fib! Starting compressions!!!” Nurse Heather shouted out. Heather immediately began chest compressions, pushing down on Lindsay’s chest hard and fast. Nancy swooped in, snipping off Lindsay’s sports bra, exposing her small breasts and hard nipples. At the head of the bed, Sarah got right to it, beginning rapid sequence intubation. The nerdy redheaded doctor carefully navigated the flexible plastic tube into her friend’s airway. Lindsay’s head bobbed and lolled around from the residual force of Heather’s hearty compressions, creating a moving target for Sarah- nothing that Sarah couldn’t handle! The breathing tube was navigated further into Lindsay’s airway, ending up in the correct depth and location in a matter of seconds. “I’m in!” Sarah confidently announced, taping the tube in place.
Post-intubation, the trauma team decided to shock Lindsay. The defibrillator paddles were charged to 200 joules, gelled, and pressed up against Lindsay’s bare, flat chest. “Alright! Everyone…CLEAR!” Sarah shouted, sending the first shock into the patient once everyone backed away. “MMMPH!” Lindsay moaned, as if she felt the shock. The first defibrillation didn’t do the trick, onto the second one! The defibs were recharged to 250 joules, and shock #2 was promptly delivered. “Mmm….” Moaned Lindsay, again, almost as if she knew what was being done to her. Shocks one and two didn’t do the trick, but third time’s the charm, right? The paddles were charged up to 300, and Lindsay was shocked. Her chest shot up and her back arched. She held that position for a second or two before plopping down onto the orange backboard. “Damn it, no change! Shocking again at 360. Everyone… CLEAR!” Barked Dr Sarah. KA-THUNK! Lindsay’s 6’1 frame was tossed around effortlessly by the stronger shock, but like before, v-fib persisted. With the paddles still pressed up against Lindsay’s bare chest, Sarah shocked Dr Lindsay again at 360 joules. At the far end of the table, Lindsay’s feet kicked up, slamming back down hard half a second later, wrinkling the soles of her big feet once again.
Following the fifth shock, the trauma team switched gears, giving CPR and ambu bagging another try. Heather placed the heel of her gloved hand on the middle of Lindsay’s chest and began pumping away hard and fast. Lindsay’s chest caved in, and her toned belly with abs rippled and jiggled out from the sheer force of the chest compressions. Heather felt Lindsay’s ribs break, but nonetheless, she kept up her life saving efforts. At the head of the bed, Nurse Nancy attached the ambu bag to the ET tube, puffing the light blue bag every few seconds or so, sending critically needed oxygen directly into the coding doctor’s lungs. Dr Sarah stood off to the side of the table injecting the first doses of epinephrine and atropine into Lindsay’s IV line in hopes of stimulating positive cardiac activity. While waiting for the meds to kick in, Heather kept at it, brutally going to town on her coworker (now patient’s) chest. Heather looked down at Lindsay’s face while continuing CPR. Lindsay’s head bobbed and bounced around in sync with each individual compression. Her eyes were WIDE open, her face locked in a full-blown death stare. The ET tube hung out the side of Lindsay’s mouth, taped in place, hugging her pale lips. Heather couldn’t believe a familiar face was in such dire shape. “The ones with their eyes open never make it…” Heather thought to herself. Back at the head of the table, Nancy continued ambu bagging. “You’ve got a long life ahead of you… We all love you and need you here Linds…” Nancy whispered into Lindsay’s ear, as if she was trying to convince Lindsay to not die.
Over the coming minutes, Lindsay’s chest began to take an absolute beating. A nasty bruise started to form in the center of her chest on top of the breastbone. Mid code, Lindsay’s chest tube began to drain a substantial amount of blood seemingly out of nowhere. “What the hell?...” A surprised Dr Sarah thought out loud. In the blink of an eye, a couple liters of blood drained through the tube. “She’s bleeding somewhere in her chest. Maybe a cardiac chamber or great vessel injury.” Speculated Sarah, trying to explain away what she was seeing. “I’m gonna do an echo. Let’s see what her heart’s doing. Maybe that’ll give me something to work with.” Sarah went on. With CPR ongoing, Sarah squirted a little bit of clear, conductive ultrasound gel onto Lindsay’s bare chest. She turned on the ultrasound monitor screen and lowered the wand onto the portion of Lindsay’s chest where the gel was and began moving it around for a second or two to spread it out a bit. Sarah then moved the ultrasound wand over Lindsay’s heart and eyes the monitor screen. “….oh Lord…what a mess in there…” Uttered Sarah. “Hmm?” Heather overheard. “Massive tamponade.” Sarah shook her head. “Pericardiocentesis?” asked Heather, wondering what the next step was. “I don’t think that’ll do the trick. We need to crack her chest and see what’s really going on in there. I’m gonna set up a thoracotomy tray.” Sarah explained to Nurse Heather. Nurse Heather’s eyes went wide once she heard the word “thoracotomy.” That was a last ditch effort, hail Mary procedure used in the most critical patients. Heather has seen many patients get their chest cracked during her time as a nurse in our ER, but the idea of a friend, coworker, and familiar face being the recipient of such a procedure really bothered Heather at a deeper level.
Betadine was splashed across the left half of Lindsay’s chest. The strong, chemical scent of antiseptic hit everyone’s nostrils in less than a second. Sarah picked up the scalpel, making a crude, but decisive incision. The cut started just to the left of Lindsay’s sternum, extended laterally across her chest, underneath her left nipple, and concluding just shy of her left armpit. Heather halted CPR while Sarah worked to separate the underlying tissue and muscle to make way for the rib spreader. With an adequate space created, the metal rib retractor was placed, and Lindsay’s chest was forcefully pried open. A loud popping and cracking sound echoed around the room while Sarah turned the knobs on the spreader. Upon entry to Lindsay’s chest cavity, there was a massive rush of blood. “Suction! SUCTION!” Shouted Sarah, packing handfuls of surgical sponges into the fresh incision area. Heather lowered a suction tube into Lindsay’s chest cavity and began removing the excess blood to create a good line of sight for Sarah. The suction tube made a wet slurping sound as it removed the blood. Meanwhile, Sarah incised the fibrous lining of the pericardium to relieve the tamponade and placed a vascular clamp on the descending aorta in order to redirect blood flow and quell any arterial bleeding- at least temporarily. Heather continued to apply suction every few seconds or so, the line of sight clogging up with blood like clockwork. “Starting cardiac massage.” Announced Sarah, reaching into Lindsay’s chest, beginning to vigorously massage away at Lindsay’s strong, athletic heart. Sarah’s gloved hands were wrapped firmly around the beautiful tomboy doctor’s heart, squeezing much needed blood to the rest of her body. A wet, rhythmic squishing sound was produced from Dr Sarah’s internal resus efforts. “Come on… come on Linds…” uttered Sarah under her breath.
Sarah squeezed and squeezed, but her multiple cycles of cardiac massage failed to restart Dr Lindsay’s heart. Next up, the team opted to give the internal paddles a try. The internal paddles were charged to 20 joules and lowered into Lindsay’s chest around her erratically twitching heart. THWACK! Lindsay’s heart tensed up for a second before going right back to v-fib. Sarah sighed. “No change, going again at 30. Everyone… CLEAR!” Sarah shocked again. Lindsay’s torso jolted sharply in response to the shock, but v-fib remained. “Hitting her again at 40!..... CLEAR!�� Sarah’s voice surged. “Mmm….” Lindsay moaned in reaction to the shock. “she’s still in v-fib, let’s go again…. CLEAR!” Sarah yelled out passionately. A dull, wet thump was heard, however, Lindsay’s heart still couldn’t be shocked out of v-fib. “AGAIN!... CLEAR!” Yelled Sarah, lowering the blood soaked internal paddles back onto Lindsay’s cracked open chest. “Still nothing. Recharging the internal paddles to 40!” Sarah announced, her tone of voice growing more and panicked. The high pitched, electrical whirring sound of the paddles recharging bounced around the room. “Ok…. CLEAR!” Sarah defibbed Lindsay again. Almost instantly after the shock, the heart monitors flatlined. Lindsay’s heart sat completely motionless in plain sight. Dr Sarah removed the large, spoon shaped paddles and gently set them back on the crash cart. Sarah began removing her gloves and eyeing the clock on the wall. “It’s over. Time of death, 19:35.” Sarah called out, abruptly terminating the code.
The trio of caretakers stood there shell shocked for a moment while the high pitched hum of the flatlined monitors droned around the room. Nancy removed the ambu bag, a small amount of air quietly hissing out. Heather switched off the monitors, making the once loud, chaotic room eerily silent. Nobody said a word, but knew exactly what to do next. The IV lines were taken out of each arm. The EKG electrodes were disconnected. The BP cuff was taken off Lindsay’s left bicep. The pulse oximeter was taken off her left index finger. A blue surgical drape was hastily tossed on top of the thoracotomy site. Lindsay’s eyes remained wide open as her body was covered, appearing as if she watched the sheet get pulled over her head. Last but not least, a toe tag was filled out and placed on the big toe of Lindsay’s left foot. The tag dangled in front of Lindsay’s hot, wrinkly soles, serving as a harsh reminder that no Christmas miracles would be taking place that night. In this alternate reality, Lindsay was now the latest beauty who found herself toe tagged and under a sheet in our emergency department.
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forthevillains · 1 month ago
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Merry Xmas!!!! xxx as a late Xmas present to us Wesker simps could we pretty please cuz some more obssessive /yandere type Wesker pleasssseee!!! Love your work xx
MERRY LATE XMAS!<3 and thank you so much I really appreciate it!
I’ve been ill so I’m late with this and I hope it’s not as bad (wrote it w a fever lol). This is a short scenario that spawned in my head and wouldn’t leave so I hope you enjoy<3 btw no spice in this one as it wasn’t specified if you want it there or not
You've worked for Umbrella for quite a while, spending perhaps too much time in the laboratory, wondering about the new possibilities of what you were creating in there. You've always been very keen on developing new things, researching whatever you lacked knowledge of. You were smart, oh definitely, such a young thing with such a curious brain. Even if you didn't know it, it brought you very much advantages among your colleagues. Especially since a special someone took a liking to you.
Wesker's been around you ever since you got promoted, moved forward to do things of higher importance, to spend time with more privileged people who have fallen so passionately deep with their job you could barely keep up a normal conversation. Not him though, never him. He's always been an observant man, thus he noticed even the slightest of discomfort in your expressions. He always knew exactly how you felt, what you were thinking and sometimes it has made you feel uneasy at how easily he could read you. It all began so innocently you would’ve thought you found your soulmate rather than a future stalker, rather a madman desiring nothing more than to own, possess.
"In need of any help, dearheart?" he'd ask whenever he noticed you carrying way too many envelopes that they almost slipped past your tensed forearms. Little did you know that they were mostly empty, that it was him who purposely put so many in there so that he could seem like a gentleman, trying to help you out. And it sure worked on you every damn time.
____________________________________
It was late, well past midnight. You were silently cursing yourself for making such a stupid decision to work during holidays. Everyone is with their family at the moment, having a great time, laughing together, telling each other stories from their wonderful lives and you? You were locked up in a lab, taking notes about the newest virus that Umbrella worked on.
The sterile silence of the underground laboratory enveloped the air, save for the soft hum of machinery in the background. You were just about to be done with it for today, your mind was going places, other places than where it should be at the moment and you could barely think straight when your mind was flooded with the images of your warm bed. You thought you could get distracted enough that maybe you wouldn't feel so terrible about having no family or friends to spend time with during Christmas, maybe feel a little more important, feel like you're being productive in a way... But it didn't work.
Suddenly, you could've sworn you heard footsteps. You turned to look down the corridor, but no one was there. Only the faint light from the lab panels illuminated the otherwise dark hallways.
You sighed, wondering just why did you think it was such a great idea to stay here during the night. What had your mind going places that were too far to get back from though, was the fact that Wesker himself decided to stay as well. You didn't talk to each other of course, you somehow ought to keep it professional and not intertwine with what he had to do... But the thought of being alone in here with him, even if he was in another room... The thought sent a strange mixture of frustration and... something else fluttering in your chest.
The quiet click of boots against tile echoed down the hall once more, and you turned just in time to see him approach. His tall frame, cold expression, and piercing sunglasses made him almost ethereal in the dim lighting, like a god descending from his private throne. Weren’t you a realist you would’ve definitely believed that he was indeed one.
"You're still here," he observed in his usual clipped tone. There was no question in his voice. It was simply a statement, one that you knew was far from casual curiosity.
"Where else would I be?" you questioned, immediately regretting that maybe that was a little too well played for him. That the right words would be all for you to vent to him, just like you’ve already done a few times. It made you anxious, eyes flicking away, trying not to meet his gaze. He could definitely notice, he surely knew…
You hated how he always knew when something was off. Of course he'd know that you were just avoiding how pathetic and lonely you felt outside these walls. Without anyone to talk to, anyone to ask for  advice... You didn't have him. That's what he kept telling himself. That you're just so miserable on your own that you willingly overwork yourself, only to be around him. And he wouldn't have it any other way. You belong with him, you can’t be happy on your own.
A slight smirk curled on his lips. "Well there could be loads of answers to that question, dearheart. What's more important is... Where do you wish to be?" It made you think for a second and you nearly blurted out that you'd only wish to be with him, working on whatever he was working on, feeling his presence, being close to him, simply breathing the same air while being able to steal small glances. But you didn't. You couldn't say it out loud.
His approach was slow, calculated. He never rushed, never had to. He was certain of everything—of you, of your thoughts, of your desires. The closer he got, the more you felt your heart begin to race, against all rational thought. What was he even doing? Has he lost his mind?
You had no idea of any of his desires, not how much he wished for an opportunity like this, to get you all alone, all to himself, with nowhere else to run to. It was like a dream come true and he felt exactly like a kid finally getting his favorite candy. He was willing to take a bite, oh definitely and not just one, but he has yet to savor such moment.
Wesker reached you, and without a word, his hand came up to rest against the side of your face, cold but firm. His thumb stroked your cheek, and you flinched, not from discomfort, but from the way his touch felt as though it had always been meant for you—like it had been planned. Every part of you screamed to step back, to pull away, to find a way to escape, but his gaze held you in place, like a trap you couldn't escape.
"You're trembling," he remarked, his voice low, darkly amused. "Why? Are you afraid of me?" His eyes gleamed with a mixture of pride and something darker—something that felt like possession.
"I'm not afraid," you whispered, voice small and fragile. Even you knew the lie didn't hold weight. You were afraid, but there was something else too. Something that went far deeper. Mixture of that something with fear was weirdly addictive to you and you couldn’t decide whether you wanted to run or play along whatever game he’s come up with this time.
He tilted your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. The intense heat in his eyes sent a shock through your body. He'd always been this way, relentless in his desire to break you down, piece by piece, until you were nothing but a part of him. You were never truly free. Not when he was around.
"Don't lie to me," he purred, the words a dangerous promise. "I can hear your heart racing. Your body betrays you."
Your breath caught in your throat as his hand slid down your neck, fingertips brushing the sensitive skin there. It was a delicate touch, one that made your stomach tighten in a way you couldn't deny. A part of you hated the way your body reacted to him, how your pulse quickened when he was near, but you couldn't stop it.
"You like me, don't you?" Wesker's voice dropped even lower, almost a growl now. There it was, reading you like a book, saying words that even you didn’t know were true before he said them out loud. His fingers brushed along the collar of your shirt, sending a shiver down your spine. His control over you was suffocating, but the worst part was... you didn't know if you wanted to break free.
"I... I don't like you. I mean I do - not like that - I mean-" You fell silent. There was nothing more you could do, you know that he knew now, you only assured him by your nervousness.
Wesker's smile widened, but it wasn't kind. It was something colder, something darker. "We both know that isn't true. Don't play these games with me, darling. No need to be shy now." His lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "I like you too, you know?"
Your eyes widened. Normally you would’ve loved to hear those words, but the tone of his voice… You couldn’t quite figure out his intentions and it made shivers run down your spine. His presence alone was overwhelming at this very moment. His fingers threaded through your hair, tugging your head back slightly to expose your neck. The intimacy was suffocating, and yet you couldn't look away, couldn't push him off. His dominance was intoxicating, all-consuming. "Don’t be scared now, my dear. Believe that I take good care of what’s mine,” he manages a disappointed frown. As if you fearing him was hurting him in a way when in reality - he liked it. He wouldn’t necessarily hurt you, but he liked to see you trembling underneath his touch, seeing the battle you were having with yourself over what you yourself truly want.
"I'm going to make you feel so good you won't be able to go on without me, my dear, I can promise you that." His hand came up to caress your cheek, his fingers gentle on your skin as he looked into your eyes through his dark shades. "You’ll learn that soon enough, very soon.” And after he let out those words, you knew that there was no way back from this…
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lightlycareless · 1 month ago
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And finally, here is the other xmas oneshot I had prepared for this year :> something a bit more chill, I believe. Or so I hope that's the way it's interpreted hahaha don't take it too seriously, it's just you, naoya and your kids being silly 🤣
warnings: none too big. domestic fluff. there is a hint of you and naoya being somewhat nasty (as usual) and naomi curses the moment she became aware of her surroundings.
Happy reading!
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It took you years to finally convince Naoya to do it. For him to go above and beyond what’s usually done during Christmas time.
But after your swaying, insisting, and borderline exhausting persuasion, Naoya finally decides to bite and dress up as Santa this year.
“Our babies are going to love it!” you gush, already imagining the type of adorable reaction they’ll have. “Thank you so much, honey.”
“They’re hardly babies anymore, my love. I doubt they’ll get excited.” Naoya says. But he can portray himself as indifferent all he wants, because deep within you know the truth: he too was thrilled to see his kid’s reactions. “But isn’t this going to happen during the night, though? When they’re asleep?”
You go silent.
“I guess so… but we can still do it! I read online that what parents do to keep the excitement going is leave a trail of hints implying Santa was here! You know, like the cookies with milk and such.”
“Do I still have to dress up?” he asks, you nod.
“Of course! You gotta do it at least once in their lives.” You smile, stepping on your toes to kiss him. Call it motivation. A preview of what’s to come if he goes through with your idea. “I have your costume ready too, so you can’t back out now.”
“Looks like I don’t have much of a choice anyways…”
“No, you don’t.” you giggle. “Now, if you excuse me… There are some cookies I need to bake if we want to make this even more realistic!”
“Are you sure that isn’t an excuse just to eat them yourself?” He teases.
“And what if it is?” you pout.
“Ah, no, nothing. No problem at all…” Naoya chuckles, and you know there’s so much more that he’s holding back on saying, but in favor of getting everything ready for Christmas night, which was just two days away, you let it pass.
Thankfully, your children remain as oblivious as ever, in both matters regarding their presents which were hidden away in one of the many rooms found around the estate until the very day, and your plan for Santa’s nightly visit.
Though they’ve been getting ideas of their own.
“Naomi-nee, come on! Let’s stay up to see Santa coming to our house!” Naori cheers, excitedly tugging at her arm—an accurate reflection of his and his sibling’s enthusiasm. “Please please pleaseeeeeeeeeeee.”
“It’s going to ruin the magic, little bro.” Naomi responds, barely lifting her gaze from the book she was reading. She already knew who Santa was, discovered the truth all by herself once upon a time after noticing the peculiar similarities between Santa’s handwriting and her mama’s.
Did it hurt her to uncover this mystery? Not really. If anything, it just made her job easier when asking for things—though a part of her can’t help but wonder if the mysticism surrounding Santa Claus might’ve been real a long time ago…
Either way, just because she knew the truth doesn’t mean she’d be the one to ruin the fantasy to her younger siblings. They’ll simply have to find out that on their own, if they ever…
“You have to be asleep for Santa to deliver your toys, or you won’t get any.”
“That’s not true.” Naoko pouted. “He gives toys to all kids who are good kids!”
“You probably don’t even notice because mom tucks you to bed early, you know? Besides, even if she didn’t, none of you would be able to stay up late anyways.” Naomi snickers, enjoying how easily provoked her baby siblings are.
“I can!” Naoyuki retorts. “I can stay up late!”
“No, you can’t.” Naomi smirks. “You three will fall asleep the moment it turns 10.”
“Wanna bet?” Naoko frowns.
“Mama will want you to do so, anyways.” The oldest reminds. “Neither she or dad like it when you guys stay up too late.”
“But it’s just going to be one night.” Naori persists. “But we’ll still do it! Whether you join us or not!!”
Naomi ultimately ends up conceding, but not because she was thrilled to see a man dressed up as Santa in the middle of the night at her home, but rather, because she didn’t want any of them getting into trouble, or danger, while you and Naoya weren’t there to intervene. Or more like weren’t supposed to be there…
So, after everyone supposedly goes to bed, Naomi, Naori, Naoko, and Naoyuki stealthily sneak out of the bedroom chambers and head towards the living room, where the Christmas tree was extravagantly set up with all kinds of colorful lights and ornaments Naomi swears they get bigger and more dramatical with each passing year.
Because she was the oldest, Naomi oversaw the effectiveness of this operation, as they’d innocently call it. She had some initial doubts regarding their compliance, they’re eager kids after all—but she’d soon find out that when it comes to working for the same goal, they were nothing but obedient, yet small, cute little soldiers that took all her words to heart and diligently executing their orders!
Might come useful for another occasion, but for now, she’ll be the reliable older sister they need.
“Wait, quiet.” Naomi suddenly says, placing her arm before her eager siblings and stopping them on their tracks.
“What is it Naomi-nee??” Naoko breathes, peeking over her arm. Naori doing the same with her, Naoyuki following suit, so on and so forth.
“What do you see?” Other asks.
“I hear… something.” She frowns, leaning closer and getting a clearer… picture.
“—you’re not thinking of keeping it like that, are you?” it’s you, she immediately discerns. And the lone thought of being caught by her mother is enough to send chills through her spine. More so since it’s clear that you’re setting up the gifts for tomorrow, naturally, no one is supposed to be there.
Certainly not to hear what followed.
“What? You don’t like it?” the other voice teases, muffled enough so Naomi couldn’t figure out who it was, but clear enough to know it was a man. “I thought you did.”
“When have I ever liked beards?” you tease back with a giggle, a gesture that denotes familiarity, uncomfortably so. Naomi frowns. “But I’m sure it would feel nice.”
The curse of understanding innuendos—Naomi scowls. She’s only glad that her siblings were too innocent to understand any better.
“Ah, is that so?”
“Well, you know me—I’m always looking for ways to make things more… interesting.”
“What a naughty wife you are.” The other responds. “I wonder what you’ll husband think of this.”
«Husband?! That means—» Naomi frets, tossing aside her embarrassment and quickly growing disturbed at the implications.
“Oh, but you’re not going to tell him, are you? I can be a very good girl when I need to.”
“I can’t believe you—unless you convince me.”
“I think I know exactly what to do.”
There’s only one person she could imagine you’d share those godawful interactions with. However, given the unmatching description of the other man, and unfamiliar voice…
Naomi could only imagine the worst.
The most absolute dreadful thing she now needed to protect her siblings from before it was too late.
“Naomi-nee…! It’s Santa!” Naoyuki exclaims, happy to see that his theory was right and yet to understand what Naomi was sadly interpreting. He was just a kid, after all. An innocent kid who just had to get overtly excited… “See? I told you! I told you Santa would come tonight! And with our gifts too!”
But he wasn’t just there to leave behind some gifts, eat cookies, drink milk, and leave through the same way he came in.
In fact, everyone would come to see what he was truly there for once you cheekily wrapped your arms around Santa’s shoulders, pulling him very close to you, and finally—
Kissing him.
Making each and every one of your children gasp, shaken to see that their mother’s kisses were no longer exclusively theirs or their fathers, but also a strange man’s whom they couldn’t help but feel resentful of soon afterwards—jealous, even, enough so for the shyest of the bunch to take a stand and get this whole fiasco done with!
“Why are you kissing mama?!” Naori cries, and though you were the one to initiate, he still heads straight for Santa’s arm and harshly pulls at it, as if trying to get this terrible man away from their innocent mom and defend his parent’s happiness. “Hey, I’m talking to you!!”
“Leave mama alone!” Naoko followed, alongside Naoyuki and Naomi, the latter being there to prevent her siblings from causing any more havoc, while the former placed his little hands on your back, tightly holding onto your clothes as he and his twin try to get you to safety. “Get away from her!”
“Wait, kids—!” you gasp, swiftly clinging onto Santa the moment one of your babies tugged at you a bit too roughly—his hands wrapped around your waist soon after to prevent any more damage, which far from helping his cause, just caused their anger to grow even stronger. “Stop it! I’m going to fall!”
“You’re hurting your mom, Nao—” Santa exclaims, but Naori quickly shuts him up.
“Shut up, ugly old man!” he breathes back. “We already have a papa, so get lost!!”
You and Naoya would’ve found it unbearably amusing if their antics weren’t alarmingly approaching the concerning; it was only a matter of time before one of them got too agitated and hurt themselves, thus, necessary to act now.
But thankfully, Naomi would be the voice of reason the moment she takes a better look at Santa’s familiar eyes, quickly realizing who it was underneath the silly costume and stopping her siblings from antagonizing their poor father any longer, who was being punished by the simple crime of getting a kiss from his own dear wife.
“Let me go, nee-san! We have to protect mama!” Naori cries as soon as he’s peeled from your side. “I won’t let him be our papa! We can’t”
“Well, I got something to say regarding that.” Naomi begins, but before she could say anything else, you and Naoya stop her, shaking your head and letting her know that you’d much rather take the fall than destroy the magic of Christmas. As if this hadn’t so already… “I—I mean—”
“He was only kissing me because that was my Christmas present!” You quickly come to the rescue, directing all their scrutinizing attention onto you. You just hoped they’d believe you. “This year the only thing I wanted was a kiss from papa, but since he’s going to be away for a few days… I decided to ask Santa to give it to me! Really! Nothing more, nothing less!”
Such is what you wished them to believe, because your prior heated exchange easily implied otherwise.
However, even if they were unaware of your inappropriate words, they still wouldn’t take the bait—and not because they still harbored anger towards Santa, but rather…
“Papa isn’t going to be here…?” Naoko laments, causing you to immediately regret your choice of words.
“But… he promised.” Naoyuki adds. “He said we were going to play together!”
“N—no, that’s not it… what I meant to say is—” you stammer. “It’s actually—”
“Your papa is going to be away for just a few moments, but only because he’s helping me with the presents.” Santa Claus interjects. Their cute, round angry eyes quickly snap into his direction—their disappointment is strong as ever, but they still give him the right to defend himself. “You see, I must travel around the world delivering gifts to every single kid. It sounds like a big job, and it is. However, if I consider there’s a child that has been incredibly well-behaved this year, I go out of my way to reward them even more.
Unfortunately, I won’t be able to deliver the rest of your toys personally since I have a lot of work this time around, but thankfully, because your papa loves you all very much, he offered to help me! But he will still be there for you during Christmas, regardless of what happens.”
“Really? I don’t want another Christmas without papa…” Naori murmurs, Santa’s heart tightens a bit.
“I promise.”
Was it a bit too on the nose? A mouthful of an excuse that could easily be debunked upon further questioning?
Maybe. Yes.
But that didn’t seem to matter, in fact, everything stopped being relevant the moment Santa implied the existence of more gifts, as if the mountains of presents lined up around the Christmas tree weren’t enough, but most importantly, the presence of their beloved father after having gone through agonizing days of absence (all done with the intention of spending the holidays without the elders or HQ bothering him; yet they always manage somehow).
A prompt solution that gave way to another issue: now Naoya only had a few hours to get all the new gifts he promised before Christmas, though dealing with their disappointment was always an option…
To never consider.
Well, at least their kid’s innocence during the festivities was maintained, though their excitement regarding Santa dwindled a bit, growing skeptic whenever the enigmatic figure approached them and subsequently standing before you whenever he got too close—as if trying to protect you from being whisked away from them, ready to put their life on the line if need be!—or demanding their papa to do so as well, still yet to uncover who was the one underneath that itchy beard and uncomfortable red suit he immediately threw away after that night.
Their undying animosity towards the enigmatic man led to some awkward seasonal photoshoots too, alongside some unwanted meetings with other parents once their kids began an anti-Santa Claus propaganda at school... but you and Naoya knew it was only a matter of time before they outgrew their childish beliefs, and so, the two continued to enjoy their time together as a family.
Eventually looking back to these moments and remembering them as nothing but silly, and somewhat embarrassing to them, anecdotes when they finally know the truth—
Until Naohime came along, that is; surpassing all expectations in such way that no number of gifts or siblings would be able to help you out this time.
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I think Naomi is technically around 18 at this point? So you can imagine how goofy all of this was lol either way, we can all see some of the traits they got from Naoya 🤣 their quickness to call Santa ugly and old, alongside their protectiveness over you 🥹❤️ they all love you, they really do. 🥺
Also, I love the fact that every one of your kids adores Naomi. She is the de facto cool older sister that is actually cool and not embarassing. I think. All siblings have that silly side to them, one way or the other...
As for Naohime... I guess we'll have to wait next year to see what happens with her 🥴 but I can give you a hint: it has to do with Naobito and his imprudent nature.
Anyways, thank you so much for reading this small piece of mind!! I had so much fun writing something inspired on that famous song we've all heard about by now 🤣 I just knew y/n wouldn't be able to go on another year without forcing Naoya into dressing up as Santa lol. It's tradition!!!!
Well, once again, thank you so much for your support; now take care and hope to see you soon!!!
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water-lemon-alex · 1 month ago
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New Years Gifts (2/2) — @avagiftexchange
HELLO AND HAPPY NEW YEAR TO SPECIFICALLY @berryicet BECAUSE I GOT SICK FOR A WHILE AND COULDN’T FINISH IT EARLY… but here is your Mercs interaction! (with a victim cameo i guess they’re just there)
THIS IS MY SECOND MERCS DRAWING FOR A GIFT EXCHANGE! I drew the mercs last year too, so when I got your request, I was like, “Hey, it’d be pretty funny if I drew them a SECOND time just like last year for the funnies.”
This is more NY focused instead of Christmas focus because yeah, I finished this on NY Day. The Mercenaries are ringing in the New Year! A few explosions on the way as a little break from everything happening at work. And Agent got some new shades for New Years, too. They look stupid. Lmao.
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(though this was the original sketch if i DID make it christmas focused but I already drew xmas art of them before so oh well here they are anyway)
Hope you had a wonderful holiday season! -🍉🍋
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