#i just want to go on winter break already

[shouyuus]

cheesy af but pussydrunk Vi accidentally mentioning marriage?

she... she would tho.

so painfully 18+, mndi, merry xmas to the gays and only the gays

just fucking you slow, after pulling a good few orgasms out of you already with her mouth and her fingers, after you've also made her eyes roll back with nothing but your tongue on her clit, your fingers reaching up to tug on her pierced nipples, the buds made that much more sensitive by the metal rods, her mind caught somewhere between her lips and the high cap of the ceiling in your dorm, the winter sun pale and timid, peering behind a sheaf of clouds, shining through the half-drawn blinds.

"fuck, sweet girl -- feel so good -- mmm --" she mumbles, not all that sure what she's even saying anymore, her hips rocking against you of it's own accord, her thumb pushed against the pad of your tongue as you moan around her finger, spit slicking across your lips.

"vi -- vi -- please, please, please --" you groan, hips bucking up weakly even as she rucks down over you, her breath breaking at the catch of your oversensitive clits rubbing against one another. she squeezes out a breath, frowning down at the mess of slick skin and reddening skin at the place where both your bodies connect, her mind a blissed out smear of want and love and not much else.

"feel so good, pretty, wanna make you cum again -- yeah? you want that?" she asks, hooking one of your legs over her shoulder, you tossing your head back into the sheets, fingers scrabbling at her thighs as she adjusts her angle and your cunts are slotting against each other in just the right way.

"wanna make you mine -- you mine, pretty girl? holy fuck --" and she's rambling, she knows she's rambling, the words just pouring from her before she has the chance to think them through, "all mine -- mmngh -- gonna be mine forever? yeah? god fuck, wanna fuck this pussy for the rest of my life -- you want that, pretty? wanna be mine forever? want me to wife you up? fuck yeah -- that'd be nice wouldn't it?"

you keen, the sound going straight to her clit as she gasps, and then you're cumming too, hard and fast, gushing against her, the peak of it so sudden she doesn't quite know what to do, but its so hot watching you come undone like this that it has her gasping a second later, her high hitting just has hard, her fingers digging into your thigh as she rides her her orgasm against you, even though you're oversensitive and twitching, she holds your hips, rocking into you till you're squirming, pushing weakly at her arms.

"holy shit vi..." you breathe, fighting to catch your breath.

vi chuckles, collapsing down next to you, an arm thrown casually over your middle as you cuddle in next to her.

after a few seconds you turn.

"d-did you mean it?"

"mean what, pretty girl?" she asks, turning slightly, her eyes still glazed out and dark, her cheeks bright with the glow of her recent orgasm. you lick your lips; she's so, so beautiful like this, fucked out and messy, and a little lovesick as she looks over your face.

"when you..." you gulp, "when you said you... wanted me to be yours... forever...?"

vi blinks at you for a few seconds before her pink cheeks stain an even darker shade of damson.

"holy fuck -- i -- sorry, i didn't know i said that out loud -- i didn't mean to --" she scrambles up, shaking her head. you chase her up, tugging on her arms.

"no, no! it's -- i mean -- i didn't mind -- i just --" you swallow, licking at your suddenly dry lips, "did you... did you really mean it?"

"i -- i don't wanna make you feel uncomfortable or anything but..." vi peers at you, almost shy as she twists her fingers in her lap, the blush now spreading down her neck into her chest and back. you bite back a giggle as you pillow your cheek on her shoulder.

"it... it doesn't make me uncomfy, i just... i just wanna know if you meant it."

vi licks her lips, glancing back at you.

"i-if i meant it... would you... would you say yes?"

you chew on the inside of your cheek, your eyes flickering up to meet hers.

a beat of silence passes between you before you smile, slow and indulgent.

"yeah. yeah... i would."

vi's expression breaks into shock, and then unbridled ecstasy. she stares at you, her eyes so wide they almost look like dinner plate, before she's dragging you forward into her lap, kissing you so hard you have to thump your fists against her chest to remind her to let you go.

"i -- sorry -- fuck -- that was -- i -- you -- god i love you so much, you know that?" she asks, cupping your cheeks and pressing her forehead to yours.

you laugh, toppling into her, the pair of you still naked, but the room is bubbling over with warmth.

"yeah, i know. i love you too, vi."

vi laughs, nodding, before she traces both thumbs along your cheeks and tilts your face up towards hers again.

"hey pretty girl... tell me again..."

you let out a shy little giggle, but vi holds you fast. her eyes soft on yours.

"will you marry me?"

you nod, your cheeks still squished between her palms, but your own hands find their way to her wrists as you turn to press a soft kiss to the pad of her hand.

"yes, vi. yes, i will."

[mixingandmelting]

Winter Series Day 6: Teenage Crush

Summary: how he's in love with you featuring the original Robin trio

A/N: was i emotional when i wrote this? yes, no thanks to remembering jason was the sweetest and cheerful robin at the height of 4' 6" in-canon

Robin!Dick:

Daredevil, gremlin child, and the nightmare of all of Gotham’s villains was what Robin!Dick was known for. But at the end of the day, he’s just a boy that’s completely gone for you. He can’t and doesn’t let you catch a break as he constantly pokes you from starting the silliest arguments to putting on a show of his routines he used to do back in his family’s circus. Not once does he approach you like a normal person. One day he’d be creeping silently behind you, suddenly asking what you’re doing right into your ear while peering over your shoulder. The next, he would simply stand in front of you and wait for you to notice. He pouts when it seems like it’s taking you too long, though he does appreciate getting the time to engrave your form and the other expressions you make when he’s not annoying you. All of this, he does constantly, almost every other day in fact, because in his mind and heart, you are the best thing to ever enter and be in his life. It amplifies his haughtiness, silliness, goofiness, and sass as he does everything in hopes that he could strike a chance with you. So when he comes back from a long mission and you express any indiction of concern and how you missed him, his smile stretches from ear to ear, his heart fluttering from how you care for him. Of course he would probe to hear more, his desire of wanting to hear your thoughts on him but he still manages to stop himself from overdoing it. During the times when you pull an uno-reverse card on him unexpectedly, he gets extremely flustered and flushed from his “impress to woo the other person over” backfiring big time and instead, he’s falling for you all over again.

Robin!Jason:

Despite his height, he’s considered the cheerful and bright one as he steals the hearts of the Titans after a single mission, and makes Batman of all people laugh. Have you in the room and  he lights the whole place from how much he glows. Before heading to you, he sniffs his uniform to make sure it doesn’t smell like cigarettes. If it has the faintest scent of it, he goes back to the cave to change into a new one, doing so even more after learning how second-hand smoking can cause cancer. At some point he gets fed up with sniffing and changing so many times, he starts going through all the tricks to quit smoking even faster. Time to time, he brings something small, making excuses including the classic “saved an old lady crossing the road” on his way as a rose gets placed into your hands. He’s notably chattier and laughing more around you, enjoying whatever the two of you talk about even if it’s mundane and boring. He can’t help it when your passion, laughter, excitement, and smiles are infectious. His love for you is so pure that he’d be satisfied with simply being by your side, his one wish being that he can bring you as much happiness as you do for him. Time to time when you get a burger combo meal, seemingly to believe that’s his favorite based on the one time he mentioned about his memory with it whether it’s to welcome him back from a long while or randomly he gets fuzzy, warm, and the heart palpitations while he shares the meal with you. You make him feel that his life is complete, that he won the whole world which motivates him to become a better person, a “good guy” as they all say, so he can stay with you even if he ends up not being your end game.

Robin!Tim:

He’s known as the smart one as well as the one that sacrificed his chance of normal for the sake of saving Batman and currently, Gotham. You were never part of his plan as he already envisioned how his life as Batman's sidekick would look like but here he is, completely smitten for you as he figures out ahead how to approach you when he catches you hanging out. Image training, standing in front of the mirror and going through his lines and poses until Alfred caught him doing it once. Now he does it after locking his door, double, triple checking he was going to get his little gig right so he can look cool when he appears in front of you. Take the “yapper and listener” meme. That’s his relationship with you where he’s serenaded by your voice and won’t ever get sick of listening to it. If you were to express anything you need or want, he gets it and leaves it where he was standing or sitting with a small note attached. He’s also guilty of abusing his alternative identities and disguises so he could extend his time with you even outside of being Robin. Not that you would ever know as he has no intentions any time soon to out himself. There’s no other reason for him being this extra other than that you are the one that gives him the comfort and relief he needs. You are his solace that makes his self doubt disappear and everything he has done worth it. So when you do any skin ship including the scandalous hand holding, he’s equivalent to the red on his suit and mute from how conscious he gets from feeling you extremely close to him. Also gets him to forget to breathe but that’s not the issue here.

[sweetieviktor]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[winterstelltales]

Coffee and Vanilla

word count: 1k

pairing: zayne x reader

summary: you just can't get enough of zayne's scent

content tags: winter setting, cuddling, loads of kisses

warning: slightly suggestive at the end

a/n: fic was inspired by post by @wolfofcelestia

The air inside the cabin was surprisingly warm. Despite the heavy snow storm raging outside, inside was filled with a cozy silence, only interrupted by the crisp sounds of the wood crackling by the fireplace every now and then. 

 The room was bathed in a pleasant glow, and the scent of fresh snow seemed to linger around, but it wasn’t enough to conceal the sweet smell of hot chocolate and the plate of cookies placed in front of you. 

 You didn’t know what it was, maybe it was your sense of awareness as a hunter that made you pick up all these at once, and you were suddenly filled with an overwhelming feeling that you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t bad, you were partly sure it was because you were overjoyed, but it still left a heavy something inside you.. With nothing to do about it, you tightened your arms around the person you were cuddling with, burying your face further into his neck and took a deep breath. 

 His scent easily conquered everything. With Zayne taking a break from the hospital for a long time in a while, he didn’t smell much like disinfectant and hospital anymore. Sure, it was still there, a faint scent that you hoped would never leave him because you had gotten so used to it and you knew you were going to miss it if it ever disappeared. 

But with his usual scent gone, only the warm sandalwood and touch of sugary scent of pastries remained, though you were certain the latter was because he had stuffed himself up with some unhealthy amount of desserts, justifying it with the excuse that it was the holiday season.

 You indulged him of course, just as he has done countless times in the past when you particularly felt like you didn’t want to follow his doctor’s orders. 

 Zayne didn’t react immediately as always, his brows furrowed a bit, one hand coming up to pat the top of your head as he observed your sudden burst of affection. 

 You both were already cuddling in front of the fireplace, unable to go out because of the sudden snow storm that had occurred. You sat sideways on Zayne's lap, head supported on his broad shoulder while his right hand played with your hands lying on your lap. 

 “What is it?” His gentle voice knocked on the door of your thoughts, his hand coming back up to wrap around your waist.

 But you weren’t capable of giving him an answer, so you took another deep breath and tightened your arms around him more. 

 You weren’t sure if you could consume someone’s scent, but you were desperate for Zayne’s. 

 “It’s not that I don’t love you hugging me, my love, but I’m having trouble breathing,” his voice sounded strained in your ear. This time, you immediately loosened your arms around him, looking up at him with apologetic eyes.

 “Sorry,” you said softly.

 The corners of his mouth turned up, “don't apologize,” he said, his hand coming up to brush a stray hair on your face.

 “Is something bothering you?”

 You stayed silent for a second, then rested your cheek on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart. 

 “No,” you said and lifted your chin, smiling, “You just smell really good.”

 Zayne pursed his lips, the tips of his ears turning red almost immediately. He was never good at receiving compliments, but that didn’t mean you were ever going to stop giving them. 

 He coughed slightly, turning his head away for a bit. 

 You traced his sweater covered chest with your fingers, drawing simple patterns, “Like a little bit of coffee and a little bit of vanilla,” you continued, nosing his slightly red cheek, inhaling his scent deep to your core. His newly shaved face was soft to the touch, and it was getting warm more and more as words left your mouth. 

A smile grazed your lips as you kissed him softly on his ear, making his breath hitched.

Zayne’s hand on your waist tightened, squeezing you in warning. The blanket covering both of you had slided off by now, exposing you to the cabin air. 

“Did you use that sandalwood soap I bought you?” you asked, adjusting yourself somewhat to straddle him. 

Now with your whole body facing him, Zayne had no choice but to look at your face with his arms resting at your sides. Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed, the gentle movement drawing your attention to his neck.

 “You’re so beautiful,” You said softly, palming his neck with your hand.

You leaned in and pecked his lips, pressing your face against his forehead.

You were certain that even if you lived a thousand lifetimes, you could never fully grasp the depth of Zayne's beauty. It was a wonder that defied time, something you could admire endlessly, yet never quite get enough of.

His hand caught yours in a gentle grip, his flustered state disappearing in a blink of an eye as he stared at you with intense eyes, gaze falling on to your lips, “Not nearly as beautiful as you.”

And suddenly you were aware of everything again, but nothing was quite as alarming as the hard thing resting underneath you. Blinking, you returned your gaze back to Zayne, eyes twinkling with excitement.

 “Oh”

“Oh?” Zayne lifted an eyebrow and before you knew it he was grabbing you by the waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him until everything you could feel was the warmth radiating off him and his hard length resting under you. 

You support yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, mouth slightly agape as you try to calm yourself down.

Seeing you like that was enough for Zayne, his lips found your neck instantly, peppering your skin with kisses that turn into little bites and sucks. You gasp softly, letting the weight of your body fall onto him. 

One of his hands finds themself under your sweater, calloused fingers trails up your spine, rousing a path of goosebumps as you lean more into his embrace.

“It looks like I've been far too lenient with you,” Zayne’s voice low and resonant, sending soft vibrations against your neck as he spoke. 

His nose presses against your skin, inhaling and tracing a path on your neck with his teeth before whispering, “Since you seem to enjoy teasing me so much, maybe it’s time I return the favor.”

dividers by @rookthornesartistry

[heartssturniolo]

meeting his family - c. sturniolo

chrismas special !! requested by @nickgurl4life 💞💞

dividers by @/anitalenia & @/dollywons

a/n: i'm still open to requests & lmk if you want me to make a taglist!! currently going to try make an intro & masterlist page <333 - feel free to spam requests and asks !!

wc: 935

Snowflakes gently trickled their way down to the ground, causing a thin blanket of snow to lay upon the streets of Boston. Leaving the airport, the quiet chill nips at your face, a different feeling to the usual warmth California provides.

Boston. Chris had been telling you about it for weeks— how much he had missed being in the place he grew up, his family and how excited he was that you were spending Christmas with his family. He'd been so excited for you to meet his family, concluding Christmas was the perfect time for their first meeting. His eyes instantly flickering with excitement (and some nerves) everytime it was brought up.

And now, here you were, in his hometown, almost drowning in the thick coat, with a scarf tied tight around your neck.

Hand in hand, Chris guided me through the bustling Christmas chaos at the airport, knowing the airport like the back of his hand, due to the constant visits between Boston and LA.

“You're going to love my parents, trust me,” Chris says, his grip on your hand getting slightly tighter for a moment, “They're my parents… But they'll take care of you. They'll make you feel at home.”

“I'm sure I'll love them,” you smile up at him, “If they're anything like you, I'm already sold.”

Chris’ face breaks out into a grin, “Good answer.”

Chris glances at the crowds and then the time on his phone, “I told them we'd be there by dinner. We should probably try to get out of here, if we can.”

Exiting the airport, the biting chill of Boston's winter instantly attacks your face, causing you to shield your face further, using the scarf wrapped around your neck.

“First taste of a true winter?” Chris chuckles, his breath displayed by the cold air.

“California doesn't prepare you for this,” you reply, as Chris pulls you closer towards him, almost as if his body heat was going to radiate to you.

“Nervous?” Chris asks, accompanied by a breathy laugh— it's evident he's also nervous.

“A little,” you admit, “I mean, it's your family, I want them to like me.”

Chris’ hand rests in the small of your back, gently rubbing it, providing his usual comfort, “They'll love you. Seriously, you have nothing to worry about at all.”

A smile forms on your lips— Chris just always knew what to say, his confidence providing a constant consolation for all your worries and doubts.

Eventually, your cab had arrived and before you knew it, you were on your way to Chris’ home, your heart rate increasing as you got closer.

Of course, Chris spent the entire ride talking about his childhood memories, growing up with his older brothers and parents.

Being lost in conversation with Chris, you didn't realise time had flown by and you were already outside his childhood home.

As Chris collects the suitcases from the boot of the car, reality hits you like a ton of bricks, and there's no running now. All you can do is place one foot in front of the other, and hope that you'll be accepted by his parents.

Before you can even make your way all the way down the driveway, the front door swing open, a woman with kind eyes, exuding a gentle aura, rushes out the door, instantly pulling you into a tight hug.

“It's so nice to finally meet you, Mrs,” you say, reciprocating the hug.

“Please, call me Mary,” she insisted, already waving off all the unnecessary formalities.

Despite not being in a close embrace anymore, her hands lingered on your arms, providing the familiar motherly warmth and care.

Chris manages to catch up, bringing the luggage down the driveway, “HI, Mom.”

His mother also pulls Chris into a tight embrace, reuniting with her youngest son after a few months, just makes the moment more special, “It's so good to have you back home!”

Chris instantly returns the hug before stepping back to introduce you, “This is her— this is Y/N.”

“It's so wonderful to finally have you here, Chris has told us so much about you!” she smiles, her words filled with sincerity, “Come in, both of you, before you freeze to death out here!”

Stepping into the house, the warmth immediately enveloped you.

Matt and Nick, who had arrived in Boston a few days ago, greet you from the sofa, where they're sitting, having a Christmas movie marathon with their father and older brother.

Sitting alongside them, you introduce yourself to their father and older brother who welcome you with the same warmth as Mary Lou.

Without realising, all your previous nerves have dissipated, Chris's family was everything he had promised— kind, caring and full of affection.

Before you even know it, you've become a part of the family. You were treated as their own, made sure you were well fed and had plenty of presents on Christmas day, including a stocking identical to all the other members of the family.

And just like that, you knew you were exactly where you meant to be.

extra scene !!

As the night winds down, you find yourself alone with Chris in the kitchen, putting away your hot chocolate mug.

“See?” Chris whispered, draping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close, his lips brushing against your hair, “I told you they'd love you.”

You smiled, your head resting against his chest, letting out a sigh of relief, “Everything was perfect.”

Chris presses his lips against yours, kissing you slowly as the fire crackled in the background and the snow continued to fall outside.

Everything was perfect.

[1425fivefive]

Ruined orgasm + norstappen

my favorite kink with my current favorite pairing 🥹 i love you darling anon (from this kink prompt ask)

“Please, Max,” Lando whines, thighs shaking next to Max’s ears, fingers digging into the fabric of the couch. “Need to come.”

Max wants to roll his eyes despite the cock in his mouth. He knows Lando’s desperate to come because Lando hasn’t been able to shut up about it. Lando always gets like this when Max doesn’t get him off, whiny and pouty, moping around the flat like he’s being tortured. Always grumbling about how sore his balls are, how he can’t sleep when he’s hard, how he hates waking up with his underwear all sticky.

Max thinks the problem is he spoils Lando too much. Makes Lando think that if he just begs enough, Max will give in. The thing is, Max does, usually. He likes watching Lando come too much—the way Lando’s mouth drops open in a perfect little o, how his eyes go all wide and wet, how he always comes so much, all over his taut stomach. Max loves licking it off him, dragging his tongue over Lando’s skin while Lando shakes under him, letting out breathy whines when Max gets too close to his cock.

The real problem, Max thinks, is that his desires are mutually opposed—he wants to watch Lando come but he doesn’t want to reward him for all his whining, which an orgasm, inherently, does.

But Max got an idea a few months ago while Lando was showing him some porn clip he liked, a man getting tied up and edged until, right at the last minute, the dom takes his hands away, forcing the sub to spill all over himself without anything touching him, awful and unsatisfying.

“You’d like that?” Max asked, eyes glued to the screen.

Lando shifted next to him tucking one socked foot over the other. “Dunno, if ‘like’ is the right word, mate.”

“But you’d let me do that to you?” Max asked, finally glancing over at Lando.

Lando’s cheeks were flushed and he was chewing on his lip but he nodded, once.

Max hasn’t really thought about it since, too distracted by the season, too busy to really think about all the ways he wanted to torture Lando. But it’s winter break and now they have nothing but time.

Max pulls off Lando’s cock, letting his hand take over. Lando shivers at the change of stimulation, twitching in Max’s hold, squirming against the sofa cushions. Max loves Lando like this, desperate and strung out, almost unbearably sensitive to every touch. If everything goes to plan, Max can keep him this way for a few days longer.

“Tell me when you’re close,” Max says.

Lando whimpers, blinking down at Max with wet eyes. He already looks close to tears. Good, Max thinks. He sort of wants to make him cry.

“You’ll let me come, yeah?” Lando asks, lip quivering like he expects Max to say no.

“Yeah, I’ll let you come,” Max says. It’s not a lie, technically.

“Fuck, thank you,” Lando whines, fucking up into Max’s fist, relief clear in his voice.

Max has to hide his smile by sinking back down on Lando’s cock, sucking Lando exactly the way Lando likes, the way that Max knows will have Lando on the edge in minutes.

Sure enough, after a minute, Lando’s eyes are squeezed tight and he grits out, “M’close.”

Max pulls off, still stroking Lando with his hand. “Then come.”

Lando’s mouth drops open in that perfect little o, eyes flying open. Max feels Lando’s cock kick in his hand and Max gives one more stroke before pulling his hand away, watching in awe as Lando starts to spill over his stomach, his neglected cock pulsing and twitching, spurting come all over his tan skin.

“Max,” Lando cries out, staring down at his cock with a devastated expression. “Fuck, Max, please, I don’t—” He breaks off on a sob, hands flying up to cover his face as his cock keeps spilling.

"M'not coming," Lando says, voice muffled by his hands as he lets out another shuddering sob. "M'not." But his cock pulses another wave of come even as he says it, and Max knows it must feel like nothing. Knows it must feel awful to want it so bad and have it not even feel good.

The thought has Max achingly hard, and he has to bring a hand down to touch himself as he watches Lando come.

As Lando’s orgasm starts to peter out, Max reaches his free hand up to tug Lando’s hands away from his face, revealing Lando's tear-stained cheeks, his eyes and face a splotchy red.

Lando gives him a miserable look and lets out a heartbroken little, “Max.”

“What do you say after you come?” Max asks. He knows he’s being a dick but, however much Lando complains about it, he knows Lando likes when he’s a dick. That Lando wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.

“Fuck you,” Lando snivels, bringing a hand up to scrub away a tear.

Max barks out a laugh, hand speeding up on his cock. “If you want me to let you come anytime in the next month,” Max says, “you’ll be polite.”

“I didn’t even come,” Lando says, letting out another sob.

Max brings a hand to Lando’s stomach, dragging two fingers through the mess and holding it up to Lando’s lips. “You did, baby. Look how much you came.”

Lando whimpers but he lets Max push his fingers into his mouth, sucks his own come off them. When Max pulls his fingers free, Lando whispers, “Thank you.” 

“Fuck,” Max groans, pushing to his feet, planning to add to the mess on Lando’s stomach.

Lando makes an anguished noise at the sight. “Don’t you fucking dare, Max, don’t make me watch you fucking come.”

Max comes.

[howlingday]

I freaking love alabastards so much! Its like vol 1 Weiss and Jaune who got tired of taking shit for being too nice!

I so need more!

Would it be too much to ask for Alabastards on winter break or something?

"Hello, Arc."

"Weiss."

"How is your winter break?"

"Good. Yours?"

"My winter break is also going well." Weiss turned away. "Not that you'd know anything about proper grammar anyways."

"Oh, really? Is that because I'm too poor to talk good, or is it because you're so bad at being a good person you have to make up for it?"

"Bite me, Arc."

"Make me, Schnee."

The two sneered at each other until they noticed they were getting looks from their teams. Reeling back, the two parted. How and why the two were always found at odds, no one was truly certain. Maybe one had said something to offend the other, or perhaps there was a meeting they had before Beacon that soured their relationship long before it could begin? It was difficult to say.

Regardless, today was Non-Descript Winter Holiday and the two had promised to bury the hatchet, if only for the day. Weiss had bought gifts for each of her friends on Team JNPR, and Jaune, while Jaune used his skills to craft personal gifts for his friends on Team RWBY, and Weiss. As the two sat down with their friends, gifts were exchanged between each of them.

Weiss gifted Pyrrha jacket with a liner, both skillfully embroidered with her name. Nora got a quirky device that allowed her poor syrup through a glass tube onto her pancakes, like some kind of breakfast alchemist. Ren received a new apron to wear should his other need to be washed, this one featuring the words "I'm Not On The Menu". Jaune didn't open his gift.

"And why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Excuse me?"

"Knowing you, you probably put a cheap gag gift in here to spite me."

"Do you really think so low of me?"

"Do you?"

"...Fine. Then I refuse to open mine."

"Fine by me."

The rest of the party sighed, choosing to move on to other gifts. Jaune's gifts were hand-crafted with love... or friendship, if love was too much of a stretch. Yang got a bag for her boxing gloves that had "Chorld Wamp" stitched into them, making her giggle. Blake was given a couple sheets of paper with personal poems written front and back, some in haiku. Ruby got a coffee mug cozy, yarned and darned with black and red. Weiss, much like Jaune, refused to open hers.

"I don't care."

"Neither do I."

"I'll just open mine later."

"Or never." She scowled at her gift in disgust. "Knowing you, you probably put something disgusting in here, like a photo of yourself."

"Ha ha." Jaune groaned, standing up. "I'm going to call it a night."

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings by not opening your shitty gift?"

"No, I'm just tired. Not everything is about you, Weiss." Before Weiss could retort, Jaune had already left out of the room, gift in hand.

"Weiss, that was really mean." Ruby whined.

"Very mean." Pyrrha added. "You were both supposed to not be hostile this evening."

"Why am I the bad guy?" Weiss gestured to where her foe made his exit. "He was ruder than I ever was!"

"You were both rude." Yang answered, pointing a finger at the heiress. "You both promised to play nice during winter break, and you both broke that promise on the most important day of the entire break. You ruined it for everyone."

"I did not ruin Non-Decript Winter Holiday." Weiss rolled her eyes. "He ruined it."

"I'm gonna hit her." Nora said.

"Please don't." Ren replied.

"The least you could do is open his gift." Blake offered.

"It it'll make you guys feel better, then fine!" Weiss opened her present. "But do you really think anything he got me will make me say... Oh my god..."

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

Jaune held his present in his hand, fully unwrapped and, begrudgingly, impressed. Inside the box was a camera. High quality, too. He fiddled with the buttons, the zoom, the lighting, the timer. Everything was so smooth and easy to play with. He didn't want to admit, but this was probably the best gift he'd ever.

"Jaune, open up." Jaune looked up to the knocking at his door. Opening it, he found Weiss holding his gift to her. "What the hell is this?"

"Your present." Jaune answered, making Weiss scowl.

"You know what I meant." She shoved past him and set the binder on his desk, pushing the gift box to the side. The binder was pure white and decorated with a single sticker of Beacon Tower, something purchased in the school store as a memento. Opening the binder and flipping through the pages, each of which were decorated with printed photos from Jaune's scroll. "You have every single person we've known in this binder."

"Yeah?" Jaune said with a raised brow. "That's how photo albums work, don't they?"

"Everyone we've known EXCEPT for the two of us! Why?"

Jaune blinked, looking at her like she'd suddenly turned into a creature of Grimm. "Because you hate me?"

"I don't- I never-" She groaned. "Just because I don't like you doesn't mean I hate you."

"No," Jaune agreed, "but you insulting me at every turn and being an overall bitch to me does."

"Only because you're an asshole to me." Weiss growled before sighing. "Look. Here's what's going to happen. We are going to fix this. You are going to take a picture of us and put it in this binder."

"Why should I listen to you?"

"Because if you don't, I'm going to kick your ass before the others do."

"The others?" Jaune blinked. "Why are they going to kick my ass?"

"Because they think we ruined the winter break for them."

Jaune was quiet for a moment. "I mean, we did."

"Yes, we did, and exactly the point. So take that fancy camera I got you and take my pic-" CLICK! Weiss blinked a couple of times as her vision was still blurred from the sudden flash. "Argh! You asshole!"

"What? I took your picture." Jaune showed off the photo on his camera with a shit-eating grin. "See?"

"Delete that." Weiss ordered.

"No." Jaune refused without dropping his smile.

Weiss opened her mouth to say something, then heaved a sigh. "Fine. Just... don't do anything weird with it. That's all I ask."

"Okay?" Jaune looked to his camera and pressed a button. "There, I deleted it."

"Oh." Weiss then watched Jaune turn on the light and pulled the chair to the center of the room. "What are you doing?"

"Setting up the shot." Jaune said off-handedly. "You want our picture taken, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts, except yours in this chair." Jaune chuckled.

"Ugh, you're worse than Xiao Long." She seated herself in the chair.

"I doubt it." Jaune lifted and lowered the camera repeatedly while crouched next to the desk before he grabbed a textbook and set the camera on top of it. "Okay..." He ran up to Weiss, taking place behind her. "Smile."

"Why?"

"It's your picture."

"Are you smiling?"

"Yeah."

"Bull."

"I am."

"...Fine." Weiss smiled and the camera flashed as she did. Jaune ran up to the camera and looked it over. He grinned. "What?"

"Nothing. I just look really good in this."

"Let me see." Weiss looked at the photo and immediately frowned. "You made a stupid face."

"I was smiling."

"You were making a stupid face while smiling."

"Well, do you want to take another one?"

Weiss thought for a moment, then nodded. "No stupid pictures this time."

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

Weiss opened her photo album, much time had passed since she'd opened it. Many more memories were captured in time and held in place right there inside her book. Her favorite page was the one with all of her favorite photos. The ones filled with her making goofy faces with her husband, Jaune Arc.

Happy Non-Descript Winter Holiday

[caelivir]

mistletoes w oliver aiku! ♡

i hope everyone is having a wonderful and joy filled winter/holiday season!!

“you do realize that the party’s inside, right?”

you turn your head to look behind your shoulder, offering a weak grin at the presence of the person who joined you on the balcony. “hi oliver.” you greet, more quiet than enthusiastic.

“well don’t get too excited now.” oliver chuckles, joining you at the black railing that bars from accidental falls. he’s awfully close. his arm brushing against yours, dual-colored eyes staring at you intently. you don’t hate this, but you pray oliver can’t hear your heartbeat ringing in your ears. “what’s up?”

for a moment, you cast your gaze up, humming as you think, wondering if there’s anything worth telling him. “noth-” you begin.

and then you see it. hanging above both you and oliver are green leaves with red berries, tied together by a pretty white bow—a freaking mistletoe.

your gaze snaps down; the reaction is too sudden, too sharp, and oliver furrows his brows at your newfound panic. his gaze finds focus in where your eyes last lay, and it clicks for him.

oliver is unable to hold back his hearty laugh at your flustered expression. the situation itself is beyond embarrassing. you wonder if it’s possible to sink into the ground and never come back.

“this is not happening.” you mumble, your palm a barrier between the coherency of your words.

“ouch, babe.” oliver feigns a wince. he places hand over his heart in offense.

“i didn’t mean-”

“i’m kiddin’.” he clarifies, amused. “i know you didn’t.”

you purse your lips. “i think i’ll just head back inside.”

oliver gently grabs your wrist as you start to leave. it’s electric, humming soundly throughout your nerves. “woah, woah, woah, are you tryin’ to curse us with bad luck?”

“didn’t take you to be the superstitious type, oliver.” you raise a curious brow at him.

he smirks, winking at you. his charm nearly makes your knees give out. “i take my mistletoes very seriously.”

“somehow i don’t doubt that.”

“what? i never pass up on holiday traditions.” he shrugs, lazy grin raising the apples of his cheeks. his heterochromatic irises pour into yours.

“i don’t either.” you agree, but you point at the mistletoe above you. “but this one i don’t do.”

“why not?” oliver’s thumb runs gentle patterns near your pulse. your breath hitches, stuck in your throat.

“i don’t want people to feel like they’re forced into it. that’s all.”

“i want to though.”

“oliver, they are literally just leaves. we don’t have to-”

“is this you saying you don’t wanna kiss me?” oliver tilts his head, baiting you. you spot the glimmer of tease in his gaze.

“don’t put words in my mouth.” you huff.

“so you do want to kiss me then.”

“i didn’t say that either!”

"(y/n), you’re gonna break my heart with these mixed signals-"

"god, okay. i get it." you roll your eyes, fed up with his antics.

you fist the fabric of his shirt, pulling him by it until the space between you two is reduced to nothing, and your lips press onto his. you feel oliver's cocky smile just before he melts into you.

he's gentle with you. his calloused hand finds solace on your cheek, the other drops your wrist to place itself gently upon your waist. the stubble on his chin tickles your skin.

oliver tastes oddly sweet, milky even. your curiosity of it forces you to pull away despite the sparks dancing on your lips. you run your tongue on the lingering remnants of the delicacy. "is that hot chocolate?"

"don't know." oliver shrugs, his hands still on you like they're meant to be there. you can immediately sense that he's lying through his poorly hidden smirk.

you throw him a dubious glance. "i'm pretty sure it is."

you would be right. it is hot chocolate. it's a special recipe that oliver mastered from his grandma in sweden. he already has a mug of it ready for you on the counter. he thinks it'll go cold by the time he decides he’s satisfied with kissing you.

"but it might not be. i think i need another taste." he sighs, already leaning in.

"isn't it supposed to be the other way around?" you question teasingly, a grin pulling your cheeks upward.

"you focus on details too much." oliver mumbles, his nose brushing against yours. he locks your lips together, and this time you can taste whipped cream.

[r3starttt]

LUCKY CHARM

PAIRING: Abby x reader

SUMMARY: This, almost?

CW: Part 1? maybe. sfw. tlou universe. fluff. very Christmas-winter- whatever vibes ig.

TAGLIST: @twopeoplee @greysontheidiot @sapphic-ovaries @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @1-800-fantasy @prwttiestbunny @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @abbys-muscles @lott6i @abvisionss @usuck @thalchmy @lovelyy-moonlight @fakevalentine

It was an unseasonably cold morning, the kind that crept into your bones and refused to leave, but cold waits for no one. You pressed forward, beginning the ritual of your day as if on autopilot.

A large window near your bed offered a panoramic view of the snow-draped stadium, its once vibrant greens now muted under a heavy blanket of frost. Out there, a few determined figures were already at work, their breath visible in the biting air. It stirred something in you—a silent reminder of your own responsibilities. You needed to hurry.

And hurry you did. The shower was brief, a fleeting luxury that barely warmed your skin. The water seemed to mock the chill outside, its heat rationed, shared among the stadium’s many residents. The scent of pine soap filled the space. It wasn’t your usual brand, but you’d taken what you could during your last errand.

It was either adapt or go without, and you had chosen the former, though it left you longing for the small comforts of familiarity.

Dressed in layers of warm clothes, you tugged on your scuffed, weathered boots. "I really should get new ones," you muttered to yourself. You pulled your coat tighter, the zipper’s reluctant rasp breaking the silence, and stepped into the shared hallway.

The number 200 greeted you as you turned to lock the door with the hope that your roommate wouldn’t need access anytime soon.

They should really issue double keys for shared rooms.

The corridor stretched ahead, illuminated by the cold, sterile glow of white light. The walls bore the weight of history, adorned with big photographs of soccer players clad in iconic blue uniforms, their frozen triumphs preserved in time.

Beyond the open doors at the far end, a second hallway beckoned, leading to the stairs.

The cold seemed to deepen as you moved closer to the heart of the stadium. The vast, empty space amplified the chill, making it almost palpable. Two automatic escalators stood beside the concrete stairwell, their age evident. You hesitated, your gaze lingering on the escalators. The thought of their worn mechanisms giving way beneath your weight sent a shiver down your spine.

Opting for the safer path, you descended the concrete stairs, your fingers trailing along the icy blue railing, its metal biting against your skin.

The hallway below was a gallery of memories—faded photographs of players, their faces etched with determination, and gleaming awards, victories now frozen in time. The stadium’s logo, a bold blueprint against the white walls.

You pushed open the gray door at the bottom, and the muffled hum of conversation spilled out, growing louder as you stepped inside. The familiar scent of food wafted through the air, rich and inviting, mingling with the sound of clinking dishes and muted chatter. The communal dining hall buzzed with life, a stark contrast to the stillness of the corridors. But food wasn’t your destination—not today.

You turned to your right, peering through the narrow gap between the walls toward the modest display of cleaning products. Hope flickered faintly in your chest—perhaps this time you’d find what you needed- what you wanted. The small thrift shop was a makeshift affair, its layout haphazard yet functional.

A single counter acted as a barrier, forming a narrow path for people to queue, their presence marked by the shuffle of boots against the concrete floor.

You approached the counter, stepping beside a woman you vaguely knew. Her tall frame and blonde hair were unmistakable; you'd seen her just a few days ago picking up burritos for Manny.

Manny, who had no regard for lines or patience, had caused a commotion loud enough to turn heads that day. Though you hadn’t exchanged words with her then, his sharp call of “Abs!” had stuck with you. Now, here you were, standing next to Abs herself.

She leaned against the counter, her forearms resting casually on its surface, waiting for the attendant to return from helping another customer. You mimicked her stance, your fingers idly drumming a soft rhythm on the cold concrete.

The chill seeped into your skin, but you didn’t mind, the wait gave you time to think, to observe.

The woman behind the counter flitted between tasks, her movements efficient yet unhurried. She shot you a cursory glance of acknowledgment before turning her attention to the blonde.

“Still looking for the soap, huh?” she asked, her voice tinged with a knowing amusement as she rummaged through a crate behind her.

You chuckled softly, nodding in affirmation. “Yeah. The pine one didn’t really do it for me.”

Abs turned slightly, her interest piqued. “The pine one? Not a fan?”

You shrugged, feeling her gaze on you. “Not really. It, uh, kind of reminds me of an old man. I mean, it’s fine—it suits the season, but it’s just not my thing.”

Your comment drew simultaneous laughter from both women. The shopkeeper smirked, holding up a familiar bar of soap—the very one you had lamented over weeks ago. “Hear that, Abby? You smell like an old man.”

The realization hit you, mortification washing over you in an instant. “Oh God, no! That’s not what I meant—I’m so sorry,” you stammered, your hands flailing slightly as you tried to recover. You cut yourself off, turning to the attendant with mock indignation. “Can you not cause drama between your customers?”

But she merely chuckled, sliding a few familiar items across the counter towards you. “Saved this for you. Thank me later,” her tone still laced with playful mockery.

Abs chuckled, brushing your shoulder lightly with her hand as she paid for her own items. “Don’t worry about it."

You paid as well, gathering your essentials awkwardly into your arms. As you turned toward the clothing section at the back of the shop, a thought struck you—new boots. The ones you were wearing were barely holding together, the sole starting to peel away. Perhaps today was the day to replace them.

You knelt down near the rows of second-hand clothes and shoes, your thick layers making the movement cumbersome. Most of the shirts were worn thin, their fabric stained or frayed beyond repair. Pants hung limp and uninspiring, and then—there they were. Boots.You reached for a pair but quickly realized your hands were too full to properly check the size. With a resigned sigh, you shifted the items to one arm, fumbling to get a better look.

“Need help?” The voice came from above, and you glanced up to find Abs standing there again.

You hesitated briefly before nodding. “Please.”

Without another word, she held out her hands, taking the pile of items from you with ease. Freed from your burden, you examined the boots more closely, only to discover they weren’t your size. A frustrated groan escaped your lips as you stood back up.

“No luck?” Abs asked, handing back your items with a small, sympathetic smile.

You shook your head, glancing down at your current boots. “No. I really need new ones because—” You trailed off, gesturing to the peeling sole. “It could probably be fixed, but honestly, getting new ones would be easier.”

She hummed thoughtfully, scanning the room. “There’s another section over there,” she said, tilting her chin toward a far corner. “I can carry your stuff while you check.”

You blinked, momentarily surprised by her offer. “Are you sure?”

She shrugged, already taking the items from you again. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

Her casual kindness caught you off guard, but you didn’t argue. Together, you moved toward the next section, Abs trailing behind you as you crouched to inspect the rows of boots. After what felt like an eternity of searching, you finally found a pair in your size. Relief washed over you as you held them up triumphantly.

“Got them!” you announced, standing up with a grin.

Abs smiled, handing back your essentials as you began awkwardly juggling everything. “Thanks a lot,” your gratitude spilling over. “And, uh...” You hesitated, glancing at her bar of soap. “I’m really sorry about the pine thing.”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Don’t worry about it. At least I smell seasonal, right?”

You laughed too, nodding shyly. “Yeah, you do.”

As the moment stretched, she tilted her head slightly. “You’re the girl from Room 200, right?”

You frowned, caught off guard. “Yeah... why?”

A knowing smile played on her lips. “One of my friends asked for our room to bring in your roommate, I assume?

Realization dawned, and you laughed along with her. “I was wondering where she was.”

The two of you shared a brief silence, the kind that didn’t feel awkward but comfortable, like an unexpected pause in an otherwise chaotic day.

For the first time in a while, the cold didn’t feel so oppressive.

[doctorho]

this one is for eveyone who needs some extra love around these times.

Viktor knows better than he'd like that life isn't always...pretty. Or simple, or easy, or fair. No matter how hard most of Piltover seemed to pretend that there was something magical in the midwinter turnpoint that made everyone suddenly forget the suffering and misery and the complexities of real-life situations, he knows that's not the case.

Which is why he doesn't ask stupid questions when you stay at the Academy over winter break. He doesn’t pry; he doesn’t need to. It's evident enough in the way you preoccupy yourself with work that it's something you'd rather not discuss. You're focusing harder than usual, and he's familiar enough with what that precarious, tight-knuckle grip on being okay.

And Viktor?

Well. Viktor's more than happy to be a distraction.

When he gets to the lab, mid-morning, you're already there. He's not exactly surprised; he'd anticipated this. Maybe even hoped for it. He'd worked with you for a while now and grown exponentially more attached to your company - not that he'd told you the extent of his affections. But he'd get to that. Hopefully.

He came prepared with two warm drinks and still-steaming pastries, and he silently starts unloading those to the common desk that had been designated as the makeshift kitchen of the room.

"Good morning," he says casually, "I brought breakfast." He thinks of adding if you want some, but upon reflection, doesn't. There's a fine line between respecting someone's free will and pushing them to make good choices, and he's currently erring hard to the side of I don't know if you've eaten anything yet today but you definitely should.

You only hum in response, not lifting your eyes off your current project.

In response to this, he hums back and tilts his head, studies the organized mess on your desk; circuit boards, either half-assembled or half-taken apart, he's not sure, stripped wires, a steaming soldering iron. Your hands, shaking a little.

He places the drink intended for you on your desk, just annoyingly out-of-reach, and waits for you to look up.

"When was the last time you ate something?" he asks, holding up the pastry now that he has your attention.

"Why does that matter?" you ask, reaching for the takeaway cup on the edge of your desk. Viktor leans the handle of his cane to block your reach, which makes you look up at him. Properly.

"Just trying to determine if I should make you take a lunch break while I'm bothering you, or if the pastry will suffice."

He lifts his eyebrows, waiting for you to answer.

You shift in your seat. He can hear your back crack in several places, and not in the pleasant type of way.

"Last night," you answer, leaning back with a sigh.

Viktor reaches over to turn off your soldering iron. "Lunchbreak it is, then. These can be dessert."

"I'm fine-" you start, and he lifts an eyebrow.

"I don't believe you," he says, completely casually, "I think you're pushing through low blood sugar to get this-" he gestures towards the desk, "finished, and I can tell you it's much easier to make mistakes when you aren't thinking clearly."

When you're quiet, he continues, picking up your coat and offering it to you. "You can trust me on this," he says, "I have more than enough experience."

You take a deep breath and sigh it out, feeling somewhat like a toddler.

"I promise you can go right back to poking at this later." He adds, and you slowly take the jacket from him.

"Good," he says, I know a place.

It's a careful dance, and he knows this; he doesn’t want to push you. But he's been there, and he doesn’t want you to suffer more than absolutely necessary. And he really does know a place.

He re-packs the drinks and the pastries, and you follow him to a nearby cafe-and-drink-cart that's serving small steaming dishes outside. They're serving small steaming cups of - stew? Soup? And warm bread filled with different things, and you hadn't really noticed it before, but now that you were looking at - and smelling - the food, you were starving.

By the time you've registered the selection, he's already ordered for the both of you, and then the guy at the cart is offering you a brown paper bag and Viktor is moving again, and you take a few hurried steps to catch up with him.

"Where are we going?"

You can see him smile before he answers.

"Well," he says, "I was thinking we could take advantage of the great hall being empty, and eat there." He turns to look at you with an eyebrow raised, "I can only imagine how displeased the Academy Staff would be if we risked dirtying their marble floors with common food."

"Oh, really, you can only imagine?"

He shrugs, grinning. "Are you insinuating I have experience with matters such as these?"

"Yes," you answer, opening the paper bag to study its contents while you walked.

He hums in answer. "I am shocked by your accusations." He says, then, clearly fighting a smile, "I would never get caught breaking such a boring rule."

You smile now, too. "Right," you answer, "only the interesting ones."

The way he glances at you and smiles is more than enough of a response.

He stops at one of the long tables at the grand hall, and as he shrugs off his jacket and sits down, you place down the paper bag and do the same. He starts unpacking the contents of the bag, focused, placing down steaming bowls with a spicy scent to them, paper-covered wraps of something, utensils, and smaller bowls of... something colorful. Spices? Toppings?

Viktor opens the containers one by one, making the contents of the single takeaway bag look like a pretty impressive feast.

And you study him as he moves. Careful, confident in his movements, calm. While your insides felt like they were trying to hide, and had felt like that for... a good while now, he was calm like any other day. A rock-solid presence in the otherwise empty room.

"Are you not going to ask me?" you ask, "why I'm working through the winter break."

Viktor's only imminent reaction is the gentle lift of a single eyebrow.

"No," he answers, casually, and it sounds simple when he says it like that.

He meets your eyes, and that feels simple, too; because he is here, too.

It doesn't have to be any more complicated than that. He unwraps a folded paper napkin with careful fingers, and then places a steaming-soft bread in front of you.

You look at him for a moment, and then take a bite of the bread. It is soft and warm and heavenly, and when you taste the stew-soup-something, it's like it warms you down to your soul. You eat in silence; but it feels like there's a gentle bubble of understanding surrounding you.

You hold the warm bowl, and slowly, your hands shake less and less. The tension around your head gives away a little, too.

"Do you like the snow?" Viktor asks, and you follow his gaze out the window.

"I probably shouldn't," he continues, "the cold isn't exactly gentle on me. But it is pretty, I can't deny that."

You hum in answer. "Yeah," you agree with a small sigh, "it is beautiful."

His eyes meet yours, and he tilts his head.

"Do you want to break another rule?" he asks, something michievous curling at the end of his words.

You tilt your head in response. "A more interesting one?"

"Infinitely," he responds with a smile, and you're already on your feet.

And that's how you end up breaking into the roof of the Academy with him. Or, it's probably not technically breaking, since he has the keys, but you definitely aren't supposed to be in there, so that's what it feels like.

It also feels... breathless. And not just because it feels illegal, but it's... it's beautiful, and he holds your hand in the dark stairway and doesn't let go when he guides you to the expanse of the roof, and there's snow floating down all around you-

and for a moment, it feels like you're the only two people in the world, surrounded by a gentle blanket of snow and silence.

Or... not-silence. There is a song softly floating through the air, like it's being reflected in the snowflakes all around you.

And Viktor is offering you a hand.

You furrow your brows as your head catches up with your heart. "Are you asking me to dance?"

"Would you say yes if I was?"

And that was the question, wasn't it;

would you?

Your head tries to butt in with should you, but... something still-soft and light in your heart comes in way too solid with a yes.

Yes, you would.

So you take his hand, and meet him halfway to an embrace. He pulls you close to his chest, and the dance is as gentle as the snowfall around you; just a soft sway from side to side, breathing in sync with the music.

And Viktor isn't sure if this is a good idea, but... you look like you're further away from that edge now, no-longer shaking, and... he hated seeing you in your head that deep, and if he could do anything to help you find your way back to yourself, he'd do that.

It feels a little selfish, this dance, but... it was difficult to justify that when you were in his arms, breathing calm and even.

"I really am fine," you tell him quietly, and he runs a hand up your back slowly. You swallow. "Or I will be, at least."

"I know," he breathes out, and he means it.

You close your eyes, and believe it.

[kingqueensoobscene]

you got it boss!! I wrote this as a romantic Scout x reader, hope that’s ok!!

Dad!Scout x reader

SPOILERS

-if this is a romantic relationship, He was hesitant to have you meet his kids at first. Hell, he doesn’t even tell you about them at first! He has been divorced three times. So he wants someone who will actually take care of his children and care about them like he does. -You find out when Jeremy mentions “his girls having a mean swing” when it came to baseball. You were shocked to say the least. He quickly explains and DOES NOT apologize for not telling you about a month into this relationship. But he will show you photographs of his children playing with their toys, swimming, visiting Santa. -Once there is commitment, Jeremy slowly breaks it to his children. He explains that he is in love with someone and that he does not expect them to view his partner as their own parent. He is really nervous about this, he is used to raising them alone. He doesn’t not want them to get attached to someone who might not be a good caretaker.

-It was a cold winter night. He invited you over for dinner to meet them. You immediately heard sounds of squealing and giggling all about once you entered the house. Lights and paper decorations along the walls and any thing that could be wrapped with lights. The pattering feet of the big eyed, brown haired girl stopped in front of you. You put your hands behind your back. “Are you Daddy’s new partner?” She asked, looking blankly. “Yes, sweetie. You must be the little princess I’ve heard all about.” You smiled at her.

She flashed her teeth and giggled. “I’m a princess assassin.” -You we’re already going to love them.

Scout came in quickly with a bit of sweat on his forehead. “Oookay, honey, why don’t you find your brothers and sister and tell em to help set the table.”

“Ok, daddy!” She ran into the living room to my left.

-To be honest, Jeremy would never be embarrassed of his kids and encourage them to be who they are. But he really is nervous of scaring you away tonight.

-“He-e-y, sweet’art!” He kissed your cheek, then looked down at your hands. “I just started the chicken.”

-He lead you to the kitchen by hand.

“So, Tanya is a Princess and an assassin?” You mused.

Jeremy is gripping the counter. “Heh, yeah, that’s my girl!”

“I mean, of course, she’s your daughter, dummy.” You playfully punched his shoulder.

He just exhaled internally, air in his stomach. “Oh, sooo, you do like em, right?”

He grimanced.

“Of course I do! Why wouldn’t I?” This man could collapse, he is so overjoyed.

“Oh, no reason.”

-Around the end of the rectangular table, the kids sat parallel to each other, while you and Jeremy sat next to each other. On your right, Tanya and Andy and on his left, Tommy and Sierra.

“Daddy! Can we play outside after dinner?” Sierra asked loudly.

“I don’t see why not.” He looked back at you, waiting for approval.

“I don’t mind. Whatever you guys wanna do.”

“Do you like baseball?” Tanya asked before biting into her chicken.

“I’m not much of a player. More of a watcher.”

“Hm.” She furrowed her eyebrows.

“Oh! Daddy, can we go sledding?” Tanya spoke up once again.

“I don’t know. (Name) might have to go home soon.”

“I can stay. I’d love to go.” You smiled at them.

Once dishes were cleaned and the table was cleared, Jeremy drove you down to the hills. He helped drag the sleds and fasteners to the tops of the slope. The glistening, white hills painted a light blue from the fading sun and drifting moon. Thankfully, you had your scarf on and the children were bundled up. Jeremy fastened Tanya and Sierra onto one sled while you took care of Andy and Tommy.

“You guys wanna see a trick me and my dad did back when I was little?” You whispered like it was some forbidden secret.

“Yeah!” Andy spoke up.

“Tell us!”

“Ok, but, hm, I dunno if you two can handle it.” Jeremy gave a head start and pushed his girls down the hill. Then Andy shouted.

“We can do it! We can do it!”

You chuckled. “Alright, hold on!”

You spun the circular sled and couple of times to gain some traction and before running the disk towards the slope. The sled spun out and the went downhill, a dizzying spell. However, the sled scuffed the snow into the icy underbelly it covered up. The boys raised their hands in the air as they cheered. You screamed for them to hold on and saw a mound of snow ahead. It could be a large snow ball, but it also could have been a rock under there! You sprinted. It was hard to run with the ice at your feet, but you did not care. These kids were your responsibility and you did not want anything to happen to them. You ran, but Jeremy ran faster. Your hair moved slightly when he sped by you. He grabbed the sled and it came to a tumbling halt. His body hit the snow.

“Oh my god! Boys, are you ok?!” You caught up to them.

Then you lost your cerebellum from the ice and landed on Jeremy with an OOF! He groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re ok,” Jeremy said as you lifted yourself off of him. He nursed Andy’s head, “What the hell ‘appened?”

“Jeremy, it was all my fault. Please don’t be mad at them, I was just trying to spin them down the hill and- and they took off and there was ice and-“

“That was amazing!” Tommy shouted.

“Can we go again, Miss (Name)?” Andy asked.

Nervous eyes met Jeremy’s. “Definitely not.” You said.

He only laughed. Then shrugged it off, thankfully.

”Let’s just do sledding the regular way.” “Aww.” The boys said in unison.

The sound of crunching snow and the hollow plastic dragging on the ground approached.

”Can (Name) push me next? Please!” Tanya asked.

“Me too! No fair!” Sierra pouted.

“I can push all of you, if you promise to keep your hands on the sled.” You said sternly.

For the next hour, you had pushed all of them repeatedly. Your back began to hurt. You huffed after sending Andy and Sierra down the hill again before looking behind you.

“You wanna take over? Maybe just once?”

“Nah, this is great!” Jeremy chuckled.

You held your knees and hunched.

“Alright, alright, kids, Grab your sleds!”He shouted.

“Aww.”

Mugs were set at the table while Jeremy prepared yours. The kids playing in the other room. The kettle of water was nearly empty. He stirred the hot chocolate cocoa before grabbing the whipped cream can.

“You fancy?”

“Yes, please.”

He topped yours off and then his, carrying the mugs to the table. Thanking him. You waited a moment for your drink to cool down. You felt a small pressure on your shoulder. A nice weight. A gentle touch. Jeremy’s head nestled into your neck.

“Thank you. For, y’know, playing with my kids and all.”

“Are you kidding? Why wouldn’t I wanna be around the coolest kids ever?”

“You ain’t got a clue what that means to me, Doll.”

All of the children rush in, Andy tripped. Sierra pulled him up while Tanya screeched.

“Dad! Can (Name) sleep over?”

SOMEONE MAKE A SCOUT X READER POST WHERE ITS JUS BONDING WITH HIS KIDS! PLEASE! PLEASE! I'VE CHECKED THE TAG TWENTY TIMES TODAY! SOMEONE GIVE IT TO ME!!!!!

[perseephoneee]

scarf [ficmas day 15] [isaac lahey x f!reader]

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024

anon: Hiya! Can you write something for your Ficmas 2024 with Isaac and a scarf? (I know it's so obviously choice 😆) I will be very grateful. @mayfieldss : For ficmas you KNOW I have to ask for scarf with isaac lahey! I love you, you're the best. 💓

author's note: merry christmas you guys <3 i can't believe we finished this challenge (by we I mean me i was burned out at the end). every fic i wrote i was excited to share with you guys, and truly i am so thankful for every single person who reads these. i love writing, and i love writing knowing i'm improving someones day.

i'd love to hear what everyone is excited for this holiday season, feel free to drop an ask in my inbox or message me personally <3 love y'all

playlist:

buy me presents -- sabrina carpenter

cold december night -- michael buble

christmas song -- phoebe bridgers

Isaac always wore a scarf because despite it being in the seventies constantly in Beacon Hills, CA, it was his Mom’s and he liked to remember her. This sentimental fact did nothing to stop theo ther boys from relentlessly teasing him. Because men are idiots. 

You witnessed it firsthand very often. 

“I can’t take you seriously when you wear that,” Stiles shook his head, stabbing his fork into the cafeteria’s excuse for a salad. Isaac just flipped him off. Lunch was often like this. 

“It’s in style,” Lydia defended Isaac. 

“But with the leather jacket?” Stiles waved at Isaac’s outfit. “It’s like if a grandmother joined a biker gang.”

“This isn’t very Christmas spirit of us,” you chided. You had brought lunch from home and were not sad about missing out on today’s lunch specials. Stiles stole a carrot from you in protest. 

“How much do you want to bet that Christmas will be ruined by something supernatural-related?” Stiles asked. You hit him with the back of your hand. 

“Why must you be like this?”

“I didn’t get enough attention growing up,” Stiles smiled at you before swiping more food from your plate. 

“I also didn’t get attention,” Isaac added. “Because I was–”

“Locked in a freezer, yes, we know,” Stiles sighed. “Still milking that?”

“Yeah, still milking that.”

“Very cute; your sadness goes with your scarf.”

You were about to yell at Stiles again when the bell rang. You gave Isaac an apologetic glance but he just smiled. He was a good sport, and could handle Stiles teasing. You don’t know how he managed to keep such a cool head with everything in his life. 

You both shared the next class together, U.S. History and debated asking him. You sat together near the back of the classroom. As it was the last day before winter break, your teacher was playing a movie. A teacher’s cop-out to an actual lesson plan. You couldn’t disagree with your logic. 

You ended up at the table first, like you always did. You were pulling out your journal and pens when Isaac finally came in, sitting next to you. You felt your heart skip a beat as he smiled at you. Neither of you got to say anything as your teacher started class, droning on about the ‘importance’ of the movie and whatever. You were a good student, but you did not care enough to listen to this spiel. Isaac agreed. 

“I just want to go home already,” Isaac rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat. 

“Me too,” you sighed, scribbling in your notebook. You doodled when you were bored. “Although I need to stop by the archives first.”

“Archives? Why?” Isaac asked, sitting back up. His knee bumped yours, but he didn’t pull away. You didn’t want him to. 

“Just doing some research on whoever is committing human sacrifices,” you whispered. Your pack’s latest problem. You wondered if you would ever get a break from the supernatural. You also wondered if you even wanted to. 

“It’s the holidays, take a break.”

“This thing won’t take a break.”

“You’re too good,” Isaac muttered. He said it the way someone comments on an art piece, with reverence and understanding. “I’m going with you then.”

“Isaac, it’s going to be boring.”

“So’s sitting at home,” Isaac took one of your pens, flipping it between his fingers. His fingers were nice and long, and you looked away before any unwanted thoughts came into your head. “Besides, I like hanging out with you.”

Sometimes Isaac said things like that, and you wondered if maybe he liked you the way you liked him. How could you not like him? You liked him before he was a werewolf and was just the quiet, lanky boy in your class. You liked him after he turned and started hanging out with your friends. He was always kind to you and always remembered the things you said when no one else did. You hoped that maybe one day he might feel the same. You weren’t always so sure. 

“Okay,” you whispered back, a small smile on your lips. He grinned. He took your journal from you and put it in the middle of the desk so you could both doodle. You drew a whale. He drew an elephant. You drew a gecko. He drew Stiles being electrocuted. You took the pen out of his hand. He wrapped his own around yours to take it back. Sometimes, you really hated him. 

The end of class came sooner than you imagined. You and Isaac decided that the rest of the school day was stupid (you both had two periods left, and both were filler classes), so you decided to skip out. You had driven to school in your parent’s hand-me-down Honda and decided to head out to the Beacon Hills library where the archives were. You weren’t sure if you were going to find anything, but you thought maybe you’d try. Sometimes, the best answers lay in the past. 

You regretted bringing Isaac to the library about twenty minutes into being there. He was all anxious energy, as you researched. He asked you a ton of questions, moved around, and overall was a distraction. It didn’t help that he took off his scarf and jacket, so he was just in a t-shirt. A t-shirt that had shrunk in the wash and, therefore, hugged his body a little too well. The urge to climb in his lap and make out with him right then was overwhelming. You started thinking about things like the Vietnam War and statistics to quell your lust. 

While you didn’t find anything in the archives, you did find some books on the history of human sacrifices and another on pack dynamics that you thought might be interesting. You checked both out and ignored the look of the librarian as she read the titles. Isaac stifled his laughter. 

You were about to ask Isaac if he wanted to grab some coffee before going home (any chance to prolong your time with him), but the question caught in your throat as you regaled who was leaning against your car. 

Ethan and Aiden were waiting for you both, or maybe just Isaac. You were never sure how much of a priority you were to your enemies. You assumed you were low on the totem pole. 

“Lahey,” Ethan called out, stepping out of your car. Isaac gently pushed you behind him. 

“Ladies,” Isaac grinned. “What can we do for you today?”

The twins bristled. “In the spirit of Christmas, we wanted to give back to the people who got us where we are today,” Aiden drawled. Your blood chilled at the connotations. “You destroyed our ride; we destroy yours.”

You very much did not like this idea. 

“This isn’t my car, sorry,” Isaac shrugged. 

“It’s hers,” Ethan pointed to you. You wanted to yell at him, but Isaac refused to let you come out of behind him. “And she’s important to you, so we thought it would be the same thing.”

You would’ve spent more time pondering that comment if Aidan hadn’t proceeded to smash in your windows. You yelled at them, your voice carrying across the parking lot. Isaac growled, rushing forward and pushing Aidan away. Both twins laughed like this was a joke to them. You were in disbelief and anger over the state of your car and knew you couldn’t afford to fix it, especially with extra expenses around the holiday season. You also were angry that these three idiots were having a fight out in the library parking lot. 

“Hey!” you yelled, attempting to get them to break it up. Shockingly, Isaac was holding his own against the alpha twins. Unfortunately, he was still losing. Ethan grabbed the scarf from his neck, dangling it in front of him. You cried out as Ethan ripped it in half. This was only going to end badly, you knew that. Especially as Isaac turned right after, with the twins following. 

You were no match for three werewolves; you were barely a match for a full-grown human man. But you needed to get Isaac out of here before people started noticing and before he got himself killed. You rushed to your car, avoiding the glass and looking in your center console. You found what you were looking for. You gathered up your courage and rushed back to the twins. You sprayed the pepper spray at Aidan and blew your air horn at the same time. All three covered their ears in pain while Aidan cried out about his eyes. You felt smug satisfaction. That was for my car, you asshole, you thought. 

“You three need to knock it the fuck off,” you growled out. They all turned to look at you, resembling wounded puppies. “You’re acting like children and, in the process, damaging Isaac’s property and my property.”

Ethan had the audacity to look slightly ashamed. 

“No wonder you guys were omegas,” you seethed. “You act like bitches.”

You grabbed Isaac’s arm, pulling him away from them. You had no idea where you were going; you just wanted to get away from the parking lot until they were gone. You decided to drag him behind the library. You leaned against the back wall while he paced around. 

“I’m sorry about your car,” Isaac cursed. He still hadn’t turned back, his voice raspy. You shook your head. 

“Not your fault,” you picked at the threads on your sweater. “I’ll figure it out.”

“It’s bullshit,” Isaac growled, kicking at the sidewalk. You let him work through it. 

“I’m sorry about your scarf,” you said earnestly. He was still breathing heavily. 

“If I wasn’t a fuck up, if I hadn’t harassed them, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Your heart broke at his harsh language. You walked over to him, blocking his pacing. He was forced to look at you, golden eyes and all. 

“You are not a fuck up, okay?” He tried to look away, but you grabbed his hand, pulling him back. “You are wonderful, and knowing you have been a gift. You are not responsible for their behavior. You are responsible for your own.” You reached a hand up to smooth the space between his brows, his wolf side subsiding. “You are worth it.”

You watched the gold fade from his eyes, the blue returning. It looked like the sun hiding behind the ocean. You didn’t break eye contact; even if it made you feel uncomfortable, you held on. You needed him to see you were serious. Isaac brought his hand to your face, thumb tracing over the apples of your cheeks. You shuddered at his touch. 

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry,” he murmured. You choked on your words. He cradled his face with both of his hands, kissing your forehead. Your breath was shallow as he kissed your eyelids, the tip of your nose, and finally, your lips. You opened your mouth to his, already desperate to have him in every way. He was gentle with his kisses as if you were a treasure he didn’t want to break. He licked your teeth, and you felt your breath hitch. You sighed when he applied more pressure. Your lips followed after his when he pulled away. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed as he chuckled. 

“I really enjoyed that,” you hiccuped. Isaac brushed your hair back, hands drifting down your arms to your waist. 

“Me too,” Isaac grinned, kissing your cheek. “We should do it more often.”

“I don’t usually put out on the first date.”

“Hey, I’m not that easy,” Isaac raised a brow, and you laughed. “But I think we can arrange something like that.”

You managed to get a vacuum from the library, citing ‘vandals’ as your reason for needing it. They were very polite as you and Isaac cleaned up the stray glass and taped trash bags over the windows so you could drive home. You told your parents the same reason, and they fortunately didn’t blame you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset because all you could think about was your kiss with Isaac. You called Lydia to tell her the news and to tattle on her boyfriend. She was elated that you guys finally did it (“Allison and I had a pool on who would make the first move”) and aggravated with Aidan. You hoped that she yelled at him. 

Isaac texted you at the end of the night that he was going to take you out the next day. You agonized over what to wear (you settled for something nice but still casual). He ended up taking you to a double screening of “Die Hard” and “Scrooged.” You ended up making out in the back of the theater. 

You had dates throughout the rest of the week. You had no idea how to define your relationship (there had been nothing official yet), and you were too afraid to ask. You wanted to be his; you felt like his. You knew there would be no one else for you. 

Isaac invited you over for Christmas dinner. Your parents were heading out to a dinner party and were fine with it. You knew Stiles and Sheriff Stilinski would also be in attendance. You felt welcome into a family you weren’t 100% sure was yours. 

You arrived at 6pm on the dot, wearing a maroon red dress with tights. Isaac answered the door in a dark button-up you haven’t seen on him before. 

“Merry Christmas,” you smiled. He leaned down, kissing you. You had to pull away before you made out on the McCall’s porch. “Can’t keep your hands to yourself, huh?”

“Not when you’re dressed like that,” Isaac looked you up and down. You scoffed, but your heated cheeks betrayed you. Isaac let you in the front door and to the living room where everyone was. Melissa and Noah were preparing dinner while Scott and Stiles drank Martinelli in the main room. They greeted you upon entering. You handed them both their gifts. 

“I can’t believe you and Isaac are dating,” Stiles scoffed, unwrapping your gift by tearing through the paper. “He doesn’t have enough class to keep a girl like you.”

You waited with bated breath to see if Isaac denied the dating claim, but he just wrapped his arm around you instead. 

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Isaac coughed. Stiles glared at him. 

“That analogy would require me to have Lydia, which I don’t.”

“Shocker,” Isaac raised his brows. You elbowed him. Stiles laughed when he saw the collectors editions of Sherlock Holmes you got him. You sat down on the ground next to him so he could give you a hug. 

“You’re so good with gifts,” Scott whistled as he beheld the jacket you thrifted for him. 

“It’s my superpower. You guys are werewolves, I’m actually Santa,” you grinned. Isaac sat down next to you. 

“I didn’t know Santa was hot.”

“I have to keep my identity a secret, or I’ll never get any work done,” you responded. Isaac smiled, leaning in and kissing your cheek. Stiles made gagging noises. 

“I hate seeing you happy.” You and Scott both hit Stiles at the same time. “I was kidding.” 

You pulled out your gift for Isaac, handing it to him. Instead of unwrapping it, he grabbed your hand pulling you up. 

“We’re going to exchange gifts elsewhere,” Isaac announced. “My Christmas gift to you is not kissing her in front of you guys.”

“You’re so gracious,” Stiles mumbled. 

“Happy for you, man,” Scott was too busy trying on his jacket to look at you guys. You hid your face in your hands as Isaac dragged you towards his room. You hadn’t been in it before and already had butterflies in your stomach when he closed the door behind you. 

“Did you have to say that?”

“I speak only truth,” Isaac said. “Plus, I do really want to kiss you.”

He didn’t give you time to explore his space before his lips were on yours. You grabbed his waist as he cupped your cheeks, backing you up slowly. Your knees hit the bed as his lips trailed from yours to your neck. You moaned as he nipped your pulse point. 

“Isaac,” you breathed, attempting to push him away. You would let him divest you of your clothing if it was any other day, but today, you were cognisant of his family downstairs. 

“I just like kissing my girlfriend,” he sighed, pulling back to look at you. “Is that a crime?”

“I’m your girlfriend?” you asked, voice small. His gaze softened. 

“Yeah, if that’s okay…”

“It’s perfect,” you beamed, kissing his cheek. “Now, open your gift before we get too distracted.”

Isaac grumbled as he pulled away from you but grabbed the gift that had been discarded when he started kissing you. You hid your smile as he unwrapped it. Unlike Stiles, he spent a little more time being delicate with it. His breath caught as he saw what it was. He sat down on the edge of the bed, putting the box in his lap as he unfurled a darker blue cashmere scarf. You sat next to him as he caressed the material. 

“I know it’s not your Mom’s,” you murmured. “But I thought it would look nice on you.”

“It’s perfect,” Isaac sighed, folding it nicely and setting it aside. “You’re perfect.”

He kissed you again, this time gentler but no less passionate. He imbued every word that wasn’t created into that kiss until you felt your head spinning, and you thought you might fall over into the abyss with him. He pulled away with difficulty. 

“I do have a gift for you,” Isaac said, hesitation in his voice. He pulled something out of his pocket, putting it in your hands. You opened them to see the car keys. You looked up in disbelief. 

“Before you ask, no, I did not buy you a car,” Isaac held up his hands in defense. “I can’t afford that. However, I found out that Derek was attempting to get rid of one of his older cars because he had a ton for some reason, and I offered to do maintenance around the apartment complex for three months in exchange for the vehicle. Plus, after I told him it was Aidan who destroyed it, he was pretty amicable.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you beheld your kind boyfriend, who had gone out of his way to replace something and, in exchange, became beholden to someone else again. You didn’t have words for the love fueling you right now. You just pulled him close, clutching him in a hug that almost knocked him over. You breathed in his sweet scent, holding him close. 

“You are amazing,” you grinned, pulling away. “Thank you, Isaac.”

His cheeks turned a cute shade of pink as if he had no idea how to process your love. He looked down at your entwined hands, hiding a smile. You bit your lip.

“I could think of one more Christmas gift I could give you,” you whispered, hand trailing up his thigh. “If you’re up for it.”

Isaac looked up at you immediately, his breath catching as you traced over his jawline to his collarbone. 

“Yes, I think I’d like that gift,” he grinned, pushing you farther back on the bed and kissing you. 

He was the best Christmas gift you had ever received, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world. 

taglist: @alice3612 @rafecameronswhore @evasmlp

[redsummermoon]

Hope your finals go well! I would totally appreciate some fluffy mutual pining with Steven Meeks! Perhaps with a love confession in the snow?

thank you for the request !! i love a good meeks confession also hardcore romanticizing the snow and feel guilty you know why anyways.. meeks !

Let it Snow

Steven Meeks x reader CW: female reader, pining, snow [1.9k words]

The dorm is quiet, and you feel like you’re the only one left in the world as you pace back and forth across the small stretch of carpet between your bed and desk. Your roommate already went home for break, leaving you alone with your restless thoughts. Thoughts that, no matter how hard you try to stifle them, keep coming back to him.

Steven Meeks.

You let out a frustrated sigh, running your fingers through your hair as you glance at the half-wrapped box sitting on your desk. Inside is the winter hat you’ve been working on for weeks. It’s nothing extravagant. Just soft, dark green wool, simple stitching, and a snug fit, but every fiber feels infused with your feelings for him. You’ve pictured giving it to him a dozen times, but every imagined scenario ends with you chickening out, his warm smile twisting into something awkward, or worse, rejection.

You shake your head. He wouldn’t do that. Steven is too sweet for that, too kind. But that thought doesn’t stop the nervous flutter in your stomach whenever you think about handing it to him and saying, “Merry Christmas.” It’s not just a gift, it’s a confession, wrapped in yarn and way too much overthinking.

You sigh again, staring out the frost-covered window of your room. The sky is a thick gray, but something catches your eye. It takes a moment to realize it’s snow. Heavy flakes drifting lazily to the ground, blanketing everything in white.

You lean closer, your breath fogging the glass as you watch. The snow looks so soft and inviting, covering every branch, every rooftop, every pathway in shimmering magic. For a moment, it’s enough to distract you from your nerves. And then an idea sparks in your chest, and it burns so brightly you can’t ignore it.

I have to see him.

It’s a wild, impulsive thought, but it feels right. You pull yourself away from the window, suddenly filled with nervous energy. The snow is perfect, fresh and untouched, and there’s something about the way it falls that makes you think of him with his freckled face lit by the glow of street lamps, his red hair catching the light. You imagine him standing in the middle of the snowfall, laughing softly, and your heart aches.

You grab your coat and boots, dressing quickly for the cold. As you pull on your gloves, you glance back at the desk, where the green hat sits in its little box. For a moment, you hesitate. Should I really bring it?

But something about the snow gives you courage. You grab the box, tucking it under your arm, and head toward the door. Your heart races as you step into the empty night.

His hallway is eerily quiet, and you tread lightly, careful not to let your boots scuff too loudly against the floor. Meeks’ door looms in front of you, a barrier between you and the boy who’s been occupying every corner of your mind. You raise your fist to knock, hesitating for a heartbeat, and then tap softly. The sound barely registers, but the door creaks open almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting.

Steven stands there, his face slightly shadowed by the dim light from the hallway, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, neither of you says anything, both frozen in a strange, awkward bubble of anticipation.

“Did you see it’s snowing?” you finally whisper, your voice softer than you intended.

Steven’s face lights up instantly, and he nods. “Yeah, it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

You nod back, feeling your heart stutter. 

“Do you want to go sneak outside?” you ask, almost daring yourself to speak.

His response is immediate, a quiet but excited, “Of course.” He grabs his coat from the back of his chair, slipping it on quickly, and you suddenly notice something that sends your nerves into overdrive. His head is bare. No hat, no scarf, just his slightly tousled red hair, catching the faint light from the hall.

“Won’t your head get cold?” you ask, trying to sound casual, though your grip on the box in your hand tightens.

Steven shrugs. “I’ll survive,” he says lightly, but the sight of his uncovered head makes your heart thrum louder.

You take a breath, summoning every ounce of courage. “Wait,” you say, holding the box out awkwardly. “I, uh… I made you something. For Christmas. I was going to wait, but…” Your words trail off, your nerves tying them into knots.

His eyes widen in surprise, and he looks down at the box before carefully taking it from your hands. He opens it slowly, as if savoring the moment, and pulls out the green hat. For a second, he just stares at it, his expression unreadable.

“You made this?” he finally asks, his voice tinged with awe.

“Yeah,” you reply, your cheeks burning. “I mean, it’s not perfect or anything, but I thought you could use one, and, uh… green looks good on you.” You bite your lip, feeling like you’re babbling, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

He’s holding the hat delicately, as if it’s something rare and precious. “You spent all this time making something for me?”

“Well, yeah,” you say, a little shyly. “I thought… you deserved something nice.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move, just looks at you with an expression that makes your chest tighten. Then, to your surprise, he lets out a soft laugh. “This is incredible. Really.”

But he doesn’t put it on, just keeps turning it over in his hands. You hesitate, then step closer, your heart hammering in your chest. “Here,” you say, reaching out and taking the hat from him. “Let me.”

Before you can second-guess yourself, you stretch up and plop the hat onto his head, adjusting it slightly until it sits just right. He looks at you with wide eyes, his freckles stark against his pale skin, the green wool making his red hair look even more vibrant.

“How do I look?” he asks, his voice light but tinged with something warmer, something vulnerable.

You force yourself to stay steady, though your cheeks burn hotter. “You look… good. Really good,” you say.

His smile softens, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. Snow could be falling in the room for all you know, his eyes are that warm and consuming. He’s studying your face, and you feel the same pull, letting your gaze linger on the curve of his lips, the soft dip of his cheek.

The moment stretches until you can’t stand it anymore. You break the tension by grabbing his hand, your gloved fingers wrapping around his. “C’mon,” you say, tugging him toward the door, your voice barely above a whisper.

He follows, his fingers tightening around yours, and for the first time, you don’t feel nervous. Just alive.

The snow blankets everything in a thick, sparkling layer, muffling the world until it feels like you and Meeks are the only two people alive. As soon as you step outside, you let go of his hand, throwing your head back and spinning with your tongue out to catch the flakes. The cold, crisp air fills your lungs, and the snowflakes melt against your skin, but all you can feel is freedom.

Meeks stands a few feet away, watching. You catch him out of the corner of your eye, his red hair poking out from under the green hat you made him, his eyes wide and soft with something unspoken. For a moment, you forget about the snow entirely and just look at him. He looks so warm and out of place in this icy landscape, like he doesn’t belong in the cold but thrives anyway, like the sight of you could keep him warmer than any coat.

“C’mon,” you say, your voice light with laughter, breaking his trance. You grab his hand again and pull him forward into the snow. “You have to enjoy this!”

“I am,” he says, though his voice is quiet. There’s something in it that makes you pause, but when you glance at him, he just gives you that soft, sheepish smile and lets you lead him forward.

The two of you walk through the snow, your boots crunching softly with every step. You find yourself wandering toward the woods, where the snow is untouched and the faint glow from Welton doesn’t reach as much. The trees stand tall and dark against the white, their branches heavy with snow. The silence here feels heavy, like the world is holding its breath just for you.

“It’s so beautiful,” you murmur, looking up at the trees and the snow falling thickly around you.

“Yeah,” Meeks says, but there’s something in his voice that makes you look at him. He’s not looking at the trees or the snow or anything around him. He’s looking at you.

“What?” you ask softly, a small smile playing on your lips.

He opens his mouth, then closes it, like he’s debating something. You tilt your head, teasing, “Are you cold or something? Because you’re staring like…”

“You’re beautiful.”

The words hit you like a snowball, unexpected and stunning. Your breath catches, and you stop walking. He stops too, his face immediately flushing, his freckles standing out starkly against his red cheeks. “I mean…” he stammers, running a hand through his hair. “What I meant was…well, I mean that too, but…”

“Steven,” you interrupt, stepping closer.

“I like you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling over themselves in his haste. “A lot. I have for ages. You probably already know, but I… I just had to say it. And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I just…” He trails off, his breath visible in the cold air, and he looks at you like he’s waiting for you to run away.

But you don’t.

Instead, you take another step closer, and then another, until you’re standing right in front of him. “You’re funny,” you say softly, and his face falls for a moment before you reach up and touch his cheek, brushing a stray snowflake away. “Of course, I feel the same.”

His eyes widen, his lips parting in shock. “You, uh, you do?”

You laugh, the sound bubbling out of you like the joy you’ve been holding back for so long. “Obviously,” you say, your voice teasing but warm. “Why do you think I made you a hat, Steven?”

He looks at you like he doesn’t quite believe it, like he’s afraid to move in case this is a dream. You don’t give him the chance to second-guess it. Standing on your tiptoes, you close the distance between you, your lips brushing his softly at first, then firmer as his arms instinctively come up to hold you. The kiss is warm and sweet, like every unspoken feeling finally put into words.

When you pull back, you’re both smiling, breathless and red-cheeked. “You’re going to get frostbite if we stay out here,” you say, though your voice is light with laughter.

“I’d risk it,” he says, his voice soft and teasing, “but only for you.”

You laugh and grab his hand, tugging him gently back toward the school. “Let’s go inside before we freeze,” you reply, even though you’re feeling warmer than you have in weeks, even with the snow still falling all around you.

[guilty-pleasures21]

Christmas special!

In reference to your ask about Christmas w/Jason Todd:

I don't know if you've ever seen National Lampoon's Christmas vacation, but if you have that scene where the dad takes his wife and kids out in a forest to pick out a Christmas tree. By the end, the kids and wife are freezing, and the dad got a Christmas tree that's way, way, wayyy too big- it doesn't even fit in their house. Instead of going out being Jason's idea, I think it being the reader's idea, the idea growing onto Jason, and by the time they find the tree he's really excited cause he just wants to give reader the best Christmas ever, with the best Christmas tree. (I'm an avid beliver that Jason would hate fake trees, but he'd also hate when the needles fall off. he hates both options, ngl). Anyways, kinda take that idea, add whatever you want to it- be creative! if you like the idea ofc. (This is my first time requesting something. I'm so sorry if I'm doing it wrong) Anyways, thank you!! 

If you dunno what I'm talking about, look up "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation tree scene" or sum like that and the full clip of it should be around 4ish minutes. - Anonymous

This was the request I received and oh my gosh, I thought you were just SO CUTE!!! There is no 'wrong' way of requesting anything, babe and I am so honoured to be your first requestee and also SO EXTREMELY SORRY that I messed it up for you!!! 😭

Part 1

Part 2

Warnings: none.

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

     “Jason!” Tim screeched. “It’s been two hours! Just pick a goddamn tree so we can go home!” He hugged his coat tighter around himself, trying to stop himself from shivering in the freezing winter air, but Jason didn’t seem to care about his pain.

     “The one we passed five minutes ago looked good,” Dick suggested, trying to maintain his indomitable human spirit that he was only now realising might not be so indomitable after all - of course Jason would be the only person capable of finally breaking his iron will.

     Jason snorted at Dick’s suggestion like he was some sort of idiot. 

     “I’m not looking for a ‘good’ tree, I’m looking for a great one,” he replied, spinning around to fix Dick with a look of disgusted disappointment. “Did you not see the bald patch in the middle left section of the trunk?! It’s gonna topple over as soon as we start decorating it!” He swiveled back around before Dick could reply and Dick let out a soft groan as he continued trudging after Jason up the already snow-covered hill.

     “Argh! I’m not staying out here for one second longer!” Tim decided, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I could have been at home drinking hot chocolate and eating deliciously warm gingerbread cookies, but here you are, dragging me out in the middle of a f*cking snowstorm to find some goddamn ‘perfect tree’ that probably doesn’t even exist!”

     Jason rolled his eyes and tuned out Tim’s ranting as he kept his eye on the trees they passed. Finally, he stopped and held a hand out to the others.

     “Stop! Wait.” He pointed at the tree just to his left and his lips stretched into a knowing smile as he considered it with awe. “That one.”

     Tim’s and Dick’s eyes widened as they craned their heads back to take in the full height of the tree. It was majestic, sure - maybe even perfect in every way, if they’d been somehow tortured into having to admit it - but it was way too big for the three of them to carry it back to Jason’s car by the road.

     “It’s f*cking huge, Jay!” Tim pointed out, his jaw dropping open in horror. 

     “He’s right,” Dick agreed with a grimace. “There’s no way we’re carrying that back to the car, baby bird.”

     Jason pursed his lips, trying to think up a solution to their problem. “I need to make a phone call.”

     Roy jumped down from the back of his truck once they’d finished loading the tree onto it. He clapped his hands together, brushing the loose needles away, then flashed the boys a thumbs up. “Looks like we’re good to go. I’ll meet you guys back at the manor.”

     “Thanks, Roy.” Jason stepped forward and exchanged some sort of elaborate handshake with his friend before Roy hopped back into his driver’s seat and began turning the truck bacl around.

     “What. The actual. Hell.” Tim followed Roy’s truck with his gaze as he started driving downhill to the road, then he raced after Dick and Jason when he realised that they’d already started back to the car without him. “Where the hell did Roy get a truck like that?! Does he even have a license for it?!”

     Jason shoved his hands into his pockets and kept his eyes fixed straight ahead as he responded. “Do you have a license for your car?”

     “Uh, yeah!” Tim replied. “I did my driver’s ed and everything! Didn’t you?” He regarded Jason with suspicion as he waited for his answer, suddenly extremely nervous to find out what it would be.

     Jason slid his gaze over to Tim, his eyes slightly wide in a way that made Tim’s heart freeze in his chest. 

     “Wait.” Tim stopped to digest Jason’s silent revelation. “Please don’t tell me you don’t have a driver’s license. No way would X let you drive her around without a license!”

     “I have a driver’s license,” Jason affirmed, shrugging his shoulders noncommittally. Tim jogged forward to catch up to him again. 

     “And it’s under your name, right?” he pressed. “Like, you did a test and everything?”

     “Hmm …” Jason hummed as he took out his keys and unlocked his car. He got into the driver’s seat and Dick climbed into the passenger’s seat beside him, not even blinking an eye at his lack of response to Tim’s question. Tim waited outside the car, shooting them both disbelieving looks and Jason sighed as he tapped his steering wheel impatiently. “You know, you could walk back if you want. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”

     “Argh!” Tim groaned, reluctantly getting into the backseat. “Everytime we hang out, I learn something about you that makes me regret stalking Batman in the first place.”

     “So you admit you stalked him!” Jason exclaimed, getting back onto the road back to the manor. Tim let out another dramatic groan, but didn’t push the matter any further for the rest of the drive.

     “We’re back!” Jason announced, walking through the door and taking his coat and scarf off. X turned to him with bright eyes, her features glowing with happiness, and Jason flashed her a smug smirk. “You like the tree I got you, princess?”

     “Yes yes yes yes yes!” X confirmed, running over to him and leaping into his arms in answer. “Best Christmas ever! Best boyfriend ever! I love you, Jay!” She showered his face in kisses, showing him her appreciation, and Jason chuckled as he set her back down on the ground. Duke leaped forward quickly and covered Damian’s eyes with his hands, shielding him from the affectionate scene. 

     “Uh, maybe not when there are kids around?” he suggested awkwardly. 

     “Yeah,” Dick agreed, flashing the two of them a knowing look. “Save it for the bedroom, lovebirds.”

     X lowered her head as her cheeks heated up in embarrassment, but Jason caught her adorable little smile before she could hide it and his entire body warmed at the sight.

     “We found the ladder!” Bruce yelled, walking into the living room with an extendable ladder Roy was helping him hold up the end of. The two men set it down carefully by the tree and began opening it up, stretching it all the way to the top where the leaves just grazed the ceiling of Bruce’s mansion. 

     “Can I decorate it?! Please?!” X asked, bouncing up and down in excitement. Jason frowned and tightened his grip on her just a little. 

     “It’s too dangerous, sweetheart,” he warned her. He scrutinised the tree again, then let her go to reach for the ladder himself. “I’ll do it.”

     Bruce turned to Dick for answers to Jason’s suggestion, utterly confused as to why his grouchy little grinch of a second son was suddenly offering to decorate their enormous Christmas tree he’d so meticulously searched for. Dick nodded at X with a grin and Bruce’s features softened into a grateful smile. 

     X considered the ladder carefully, her teeth sinking into her lower lip with uncertainty. “Um, are you sure it can hold you, Jay?”

     Jason turned to her with a stunned look as everyone started laughing at her joke. He narrowed his eyes at her and she quickly shot him a sheepish smile that dampened his irritation at her statement.

     “I can do it,” Roy volunteered, stepping up onto the ladder before anyone else could argue. “Jay can just stand around and catch me if anything.” He pressed his lips together as everyone burst into another round of laughter, and did his best to maintain a straight face when Jason turned to glare at him instead. X wrapped her arms around Jason’s neck and pulled him down so she could kiss his cheek, distracting him from his irritation, and though Jason rolled his eyes at the action, no one missed the way his lips curled up at the ends.

     “So,” Jason began, rubbing X's back gently after they'd settled down in his old bed at the manor for the night, “what did you think of your first Christmas with the Wayne’s?”

     X let out a soft laugh at his words and tilted her head back so he could lean forward to press his lips to hers. “It was exciting! My favourite part was your gingerbread house. You looked so cute when you got all into it and everything! Is it like this every year?”

     Jason's gaze slid to the side as he let out a weary sigh. “Unfortunately, disaster tends to follow the Wayne family more closely than most.”

     His girlfriend ruffled his hair and Jason quickly returned his gaze to hers, his lips pulling into an affectionate smile. 

     “Not disaster, Jay,” she corrected him, shaking her head in disagreement. “Excitement.”

     Jason rolled his eyes, but continued to smile at the wicked glint in hers, and X took it as a sign to finally ask the question she'd been working up the courage to ask since they'd moved in together.

     “So, you’re … okay to spend next year at my family’s place?” she asked hesitantly. Her boyfriend always tensed up whenever she mentioned bringing him to meet her parents. They were gentle, hardworking people who lived in a good suburb tucked safely away from the savage centre of Gotham. They’d absolutely adored Jason when he and X had just been friends, fussing over him whenever he joined her in visiting them, but he’d become terrified that they wouldn’t approve of him dating their daughter. What did he have to offer her, after all, besides danger and trauma and anger and misery? But it was too embarrassing a thought for him to admit out loud - even if he knew that she already knew anyway. “Jay.”

     Jason turned back to her, a distracted expression on his face and X rubbed his cheek to bring his focus back to her.

     “My parents have only ever wanted me to find a guy who treats me well. And you spoil me rotten like a little princess!” She wriggled against him happily and thankfully, Jason relaxed a little. “They’ll be so proud to have you as their son-in-law.”

     He froze immediately at her words. ‘Son-in-law’? ‘Son-in-law’?! Her parents’ son-in-law? Like … Like their daughter’s … husband? He grimaced at the word - it just didn’t sound right in reference to him. He was … He was the furthest thing from husband material. But … he breathed in her sweet lavender scent and focused his senses on how soft and right she felt lying in his arms, the two of them tangled up under the covers. They could … Maybe they could … start a little family together … Little kids that he’d … he’d play with and … and teach and … cook meals for and that she’d come home to after work everyday; her own precious little family. He sucked in a breath as his heart started thudding in his chest, suddenly unsure how to feel about it.

     Shit! Shit, shit, shit! How could she let such serious words - such important words - slip out of her mouth so casually?! She bit her lip, rapidly trying to think of a response that would salvage the situation. “Uh and anyway, you’re still Bruce Wayne’s son! We always have that reputation to fall back on. Who’s gonna say no to Bruce Wayne’s son, right?” 

     She let out an awkward chuckle and tilted her head back to give Jason a nervous smile, scared to see his response. But he just grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

     “We’ll spend next Christmas with your family,” he decided, convinced by the idea now. X's smile turned genuine and Jason's heart fluttered with definite happiness now.

     “Night, Jay Jay, I love you!” Jason pressed another kiss into his sweet little girlfriend's hair.

     “Night, my spoiled little princess. I love you, too.”

[dannyz0ur]

Tim Wright — Holiday Drabble

Merry Christmas/Happy holidays y'all! got inspired last minute so hehe~ here's a christmas present for my fellow Tim/Masky lovers! I'm still working on reqs (kill me) I promise they will be done over winter break!!!

NSFW Drabble (minors dni yadayada)

Tim Wright x AFAB!Reader (chubby reader implied..?)

CW: dry humping for like 2 seconds, soft/lazy morning sex, Tim is a softie bc i say so, creampie (yippie!!)

You woke up to the cold of December’s snowfall and the smell of coffee coming from your bedside table. Of course Tim woke up to bring you coffee for whenever you woke up. And of course he laid back down behind you, unknowingly waking you up with his soft kisses and caresses to your sleeping form. You shifted just enough to let him know you were awake—or, well, in the process of waking up. You were still barely aware of your surroundings, just the warmth coming from Tim’s body that enveloped you comfortably compared to the chilling cold of the weather.

“Hm… mornin’ hun…” he muttered, leaving a kiss behind your ear, following it with many others down your neck.

You subconsciously arched your back at the sensation, letting out a soft hum in response. That was when you could feel his erection poke your behind, much warmer than the rest of his body. Almost as if by instinct, you grinded your hips against his, coaxing a deep groan out of him. Tim was quiet, but his hands were clear enough when they wandered your curves, giving a gentle squeeze to your love handles and then your thighs; his favorite part of your body. After your eyes, of course. And your hair. And your moles. Damnit, every single little thing of your body drove him insane. But he’d die on your thighs if he could.

Tim’s hand went to your heat, right where you needed him, since he knew the soft kisses he’d given you and his touch was enough to get you going. You were already so warm and wet, it wasn’t normal how easy it was for him to turn you on. He started drawing lazy circles on your clit, getting to hear your soft, half-asleep whimpers. The feeling of his rough hands caressing you so carefully was more than enough to have you already grinding your hips down on his fingers, soaking them with your arousal. It wasn’t long before you lazily pulled your underwear off, only leaving your oversized tee on, a silent beg for more.

Tim already knew you so well that you didn’t have to talk for him to know what you wanted. So he put you in a more comfortable position, half laying on the bed and half leaning against his chest, one strong hand held your side while the other was still gently prepping you. He only stopped to pull his own underwear off, and he chuckled at the whine that came from you.

“I know, baby, I know. Gimme a sec…” he whispered against your neck, leaving a soft peck there while he lined himself up with your entrance.

He teased you only a bit, since he was also desperate to feel you, and his cock easily slipped right in with how wet you were. Tim’s pace was slow and lazy; it always was at the beginning. It was perfect for mornings like this, you got to slowly and gently wake up before he was fucking your brains out. Though today, you had to beg for him to go faster; he was more focused on adoring your body and the feeling of your warm insides, which was not for you to complain about, but you were growing a little more desperate.

You ground your hips back against his, a little sign to get his attention.

“Baby… m-more…” you begged gently, in that sleepy voice that always made his cock throb. Sometimes you wondered if he maybe was into somnophilia or something similar…

“Hm… want me to go faster, doll?” Tim asked in his gravely, almost uninterested voice. The only giveaway to his pleasure was his heavy breathing. He indulged in your request, giving you a distinctively sharp thrust just to hear your breath hitch and feel your cunt squeeze him gratefully.

“Hmm… you like that, pretty? Feel your pussy takin’ me good… I think you like this…” he teased you, but you couldn’t complain when his thrusts were becoming harsher though not any faster, he was going hard and slow, just like he loved it. He could revel in your whimpers and how your body trembled every time, but still have the upper hand in the situation. Maybe that need to take control didn’t come directly from his own feelings, maybe it was induced by Masky, but that was the least of Tim’s concerns right now. Fucking you nice and good was enough to keep his mind focused solely on you.

“T-Tim… close… so close…” you brought his thoughts back to the moment when you warned him of your orgasm, he could feel your walls become tighter and slicker, drawing him closer to release too. He slowed down just enough to keep you there but elongate your climax so that you could cum harder and before him. Always so attentive. He may have had ulterior motives, though, because he could never get sick of the way you moaned and whimpered his name over and over as you came on his cock.

And he was gentle again while bringing you back from your high, again littering your neck with kisses on his previously made love bites, lovingly caressing your lower belly where you could feel the warmth of him when he filled you up. Both of you liked it as much; he felt like he’d marked you, and you just loved feeling so full of him. You were so sleepy you didn’t really want to get cleaned up, at least not yet, and you insisted when you laid on his chest, ready to sleep for at least fifteen more minutes. It wasn’t like Tim could complain, he loved holding you and cuddling with you, it just felt right. It made him happy. He knew you made him happy.

And you knew it too when he whispered on your hair as you drifted off on his chest, “Merry Christmas, honey…”

If you cringed at the end, dw me too i just had to keep it on topic 😭 also yes the coffee was cold asf when you woke up again but uh he warmed it back up for u later hehe-

remember reqs are open and here's characters I'll write for!

[spacequokka]

Tangled Up Knots

Pairing: Seonghwa x Reader Genre: e2f, one bed Rating: G Summary: Turns out Seonghwa isn't entirely an asshat. Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: Language

A/N: Another title taken from a popular Christmas song? Do you know it?

It was supposed to be the perfect Christmas getaway--snowflakes dancing in the air, hot cocoa topped with whipped cream and cinnamon, and a cozy cabin in the woods with all your friends. But of course, life had other plans.

"Come on, _____. It's not as bad as you're making it out to be." Yunho shook his head as he stuffed the trunk with luggage. "With all of us there, you'll barely know he's there."

"Says you," you hissed as you helped him close the trunk. "No matter where we are or what we're doing, he always finds a way to get on my nerves."

"Are you sure some of the animosity isn't undeserved?" He turned to you with a poorly hidden smirk. "If he's done something bad to you, you would've told one of us by now, right?"

"He steals my snacks--"

"Besides the snack thing." Yunho waved his hand impatiently. "Hongjoong pays you back for those."

"It's not about the money. It's about the food. I buy those things so I can eat them, so I can enjoy them. Not him. If he wants them so bad, why doesn't he go buy them himself? Or have one of his family's maids go get them?" Mingi came up behind you and steered you towards the backseat of the car. "Everyone just shrugs of his asshat nature and it pisses me off."

"Come along now, pretty. We've got a long drive ahead of us." Mingi smiled knowingly.

You had a long history of bickering, mostly stemming from Seonghwa's annoyingly perfect attitude and tendency to steal your snacks. Even now, you could hear his playful laugh echoing in your mind, a sound that would warm your heart if you weren't too busy plotting ways to throw him out of a moving vehicle. You honestly couldn't see what qualities he had that made the others include him in their friend group. Maybe he was only a dick to you and a complete angel to them. Maybe he paid them off. Whatever the reason, you'd be stuck in a cabin somewhere on a mountain with him for three days.

Hopefully you had enough money in savings to cover bail should shit hit the fan.

The ride was just long enough to cool your head only for your temper to flare to life as the car parked. Hongjoong stood at the front door of the cabin, smiling and chatting with Yeosang and Jongho, with Seonghwa at his side watching Yunho's car. His eyes swept over everyone climbing out and came to a stop once he spotted you.

Then he fucking smiled. Bright as the sun with a hint of trouble.

Chimney smoke and pine filled the air, carrying that nostalgia of winters past as you got your suitcase and followed the others inside. Everyone gathered in the living room and used the fireplace to warm chilled fingers and faces. Hongjoong stood up and whistled, getting the group's attention.

"Okay, so this year there's a few more people than I'm used to housing. Which is no problem! However, I couldn't get a set of twin beds and had to settle for a queen size. That means someone's gonna have to share a bed." He waited until everyone was done reacting before adding, "We're drawing sticks to see which two that'll be."

Seonghwa held a cup with straws and went around the room, allowing everyone to draw. When he came to you, he smiled. "Hello there. Bring any of those pretzels?"

"If you touch them, I will break your hand." You matched his smile and hoped like hell the malice was clear.

"Like I haven't heard that before." He winked and went onto San.

Once everyone had a stick, you compared sizes. To your horror, you realized right away that your stick was shorter than the others. One by one, the group eliminated your potential partners and it wasn't lost on you that Seonghwa was still on the list. You were practically seething by the time it was clear he also had a short stick.

"There's no way in hell. Seriously?" You turned to Yunho who was already prepared to do damage control. "You know I'll kill him by morning comes. This is a setup."

"How?" Seonghwa cut in. "It was a random draw."

"You were passing them out. You had to have known which one I got."

"Oh, please. The world doesn't revolve around you. No one wants to share a bed with you that damn bad." Wooyoung started to raise his hand but Yeosang elbowed him in the ribs. "You can't possibly think I'd cheat to share a bed with you."

"Then switch with someone else. Anyone else!"

"That defeats the purpose of drawing sticks. I know I'm mature enough to act civil for a couple of nights. Are you?" He had that stupid smug look on his dumb face and for a second you felt like slapping him.

"Fine." You grit out through your teeth. "If I'm lucky you'll choke to death on your pillow in the middle of the night."

The cabin was nothing short of charming. Wooden beams overhead adorned with twinkling lights and garland and a roaring fireplace that crackled as a yule log burned. Yunho was right. Once everyone settled in and went off on their own, you didn't see much of Seonghwa again. As midnight came, you were lost in a game of Uno with Jongho, San, and Mingi. Your sleeping arrangement was the furthest thing from your mind as you watched San drawing cards with no hope of stopping.

"Oh, forget it! I quit!" He threw his cards down and Mingi fell over holding his sides as tears seeped from his eyes. "Why isn't there a limit on how many cards you have to draw if you can't play?"

"Oh," Jongho blinked at him, "There is if you play the quick version of the game."

"What the hell have we been playing?"

"Mingi's version."

"What?"

Mingi's laugh turned to a silent gasp for air as he clutched his stomach. "And…and you fell for it!"

You put your cards down. "Yeah, no. I'm calling it a night. This is why I play Uno once a year. No more." You stood and headed for your room. The charm of the cabin faded away when you stood in front of the single queen-sized bed. "This is ridiculous."

Seonghwa entered and flashed a smug smile. "How about we just don't talk?" He suggested casually as if sharing a bed was no big deal.

"Perfect," you shot back while tossing your stuff on one side of the bed like it was claiming territory in a war zone.

The night wore on like an awkward sitcom episode. You both tried to spread out but ended up lying stiffly on opposite edges of the mattress. The tension between you was palpable. Every rustle or sigh echoed through the small space.

"I can't believe this is happening," he finally said after what felt like hours of silence.

"You say that like you didn't do this yourself."

"I didn't! Honestly, it never occurred to me to mess with the sticks. Even if I did, how would I have done it? I had no idea which stick was which, much less that you drew a short one." He swallowed and something shifted in his expression. There was an odd vulnerability there that caught you off guard. "Besides that, I don't mind sharing with you."

You turned slightly toward him but kept your tone lighthearted despite the sudden burst of butterflies in your stomach. "Yeah? I'd say the same if you didn't steal my food."

He chuckled softly. "My aunt used to buy me those pretzels when I was little. When I first met you, I was too shy to ask where you got them. I've searched high and low for them but no one can tell me where to buy them. Not even online. So, I thought if I paid you for them through Hongjoong it'd be okay since you can just go get more." His brow furrowed. "Then I realized how mad you were getting about it so I paid more. Once you started hating me, I tried to stop taking them, but sometimes I miss her and I just…" His eyes met yours. "I apologize. For taking your food and upsetting you. I don't mean to be a jerk. It's easy to forget that what means nothing to me could mean everything to you."

Well, hell.

"How about this? I'll start buying an extra bag of pretzels whenever we hang out and you can just pay me for it." His eyes lit up. "Because I love them too and it kinda sucks to not eat them when I look forward to it when I get off from work."

"Deal! In fact, I'll send the money to you so you don't have to pay for them at all. For the pain and suffering of my taking them."

You nodded. "That works for me."

As one a.m. approached and snow continued to fall outside like confetti falling from some celestial party, you laid there quietly talking about everything from work to music preferences--your usual arguments morphed into playful debates filled with laughter instead of annoyance and thinly veiled threats. You were still enemies pretending to tolerate each other but maybe, just maybe, you'd found some common ground.