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jensthwa · 17 days ago

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a very show & tell christmas (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

It's been a few months since you and Mingi got together. It's your first Christmas as a couple but not your first one together. As he watches you re-organize the tree in his living room, he can't help but reminisce on the key moments that made him realize you're his person.

PAIRING: mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: stablished relationship, holidays special!

WORD COUNT: 7k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI), mingi's pov, a loooot of fluff and love talk, pet names (love, my love, babe), mistletoe kisses, heart felt gifts, messy kisses, mingi and reader briefly discuss something that i've come to learn is called sweater fetish but i don't know if the scene counts as that but just letting you know, oral sex (f receiving), reader asks mingi to 'use' her, hard but romantic sex, unprotected sex (booo, wrap it up please), marriage discussion at the end omg?

NOTES: happy holidays everyone! I've been wanting to write mingi's perspective of everything that went down in s&t for a while so I took the chance to write it for the holidays because what better time to reminisce about everything you've ever lived than december am I right? [nervous chuckle]. I hope you're having a wonderful month and i hope next year treats you even better! THIS IS PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH SERIES BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 25th 2024.

Mingi remembers the first time he saw you like it was yesterday. It's an image so vivid, so impactful in his life that there's no way he could ever, ever forget.

He was playing soccer on the street, with two friends who moved away that same year and he doesn't really remember them all that well now. He kicked the ball so hard it landed in your yard as you were doing something else. Playing with dirt? He doesn't really remember, you might've been but it didn't matter because it was also the first time he realized he could fall in love.

Granted, he didn't fall in love immediately. He was, after all, just a fourteen year old boy and he didn't understand those feelings just yet. It was that transitional period of a kid’s life where the desire to connect with someone else was strong but definitely not a priority.

Besides, he didn't realize, until many years had gone by, that the first time that he saw you and he felt time stop, he also saw a life with you: the five seconds it took for the ball to roll over to your feet after almost punching you in the face and he sort of assumed you were going to be in his life forever.

And you are going to be in his life forever. In one way or another, but he promised you that forever a while ago, in his head, in his dreams and in the way he cares about you, for you. In the way his heart hurts when you're not around, when you two fight. In the way his heart sings when he kisses you, the way it dances and beats against his chest when you smile at him, because of him, around him.

And when he hears you laugh? Pfft. He melts at the sound.

He's melting even now, after being officially together a little over a year, as you laugh with your mom and his mom while decorating the Christmas tree at his house.

Well, not decorating it exactly. You three went shopping earlier today and somehow your mom convinced his mom that the old ornaments did not go with the living room aesthetic anymore and she bought new ones for them.

The only ones that are old now, that the redecorating party is finishing with the tree, are the ones you and him have shared over the years.

The one you got at fifteen, that resembles a snow globe with two snowmans inside of it, holding hands and with your names engraved in wood underneath it. The one he got at seventeen that's a little simpler but you say it's your favorite: two gingerbread cookies holding a heart sign with your initials in it, one of the cookies kissing the other’s cheek.

You two have been alternating years of getting each other ornaments and deciding which house they're staying at. This year, however, you went for a different approach to the tradition. Each of you painted an ornament, a traditional one, with something festive that alludes to one another.

He, seeing that you've been talking snoopy for half a year, tried his best to paint the character on top of his dog house, decorated by Christmas lights and with a red ribbon to tie it to the tree that illuminates your living room up the street.

Now, he watches carefully as you hang near the other ornaments, the one you hand painted to look like a chicken. Initially, you tried to convince him it was a penguin but it can't possibly be. It's more yellow than black or white and even if you tried to tell him it's a specific type of penguin you saw in happy feet there's nothing that indicates that it's not a chicken.

“Oh, well, it fits him.” His mother says at your explanation, hugging your mother tightly as she fondly watches you hang the ornament up. You turn around when you finish, tongue out at him childishly.

He pretends to be annoyed, rolling his eyes and getting up to playfully tug at the tongue you're sticking out to him still “Mom, you're supposed to be on my side.”

“I am!” She defends herself, smiling like she's totally not on his side. “It does look a little bit like you, dear. Even your little mole here.”

You take the opportunity to press on your tippy toes and kiss the mole his mom is pointing out, only to get more aws from them.

“I win.” You whisper to him, proud of yourself and he can't help but smile at you as you pull away.

Mingi remembers the first time he realized he was in love with you. It was the first time he called you by his favorite endearment: love.

He remembers the ice cream shop you both were at, he remembers the conversation being more of a confession that you had a crush on a friend of his, he remembers the guy serving the ice cream complaining about the fridge hardly working and he remembers the blush on your cheeks as you admitted to want to be called love because…

“That's what good boyfriend's do,” you said, ice cream on your fingers that you quickly wipe away with an already sticky napkin, “So we're going to get together and I'm going to be called love from that moment on.”

He knew you were talking about his friend but his heart skipped a beat anyway. He had to focus on what you were telling him, not on the pretty smile you gave him or the relief he felt when he realized the one thing that would lead you straight (or not so straight) to disappointment.

His friend was a very proud but not that out gay man.

But Mingi decided to not mess with it, he always let you fight your battles alone if those battles ended up with you learning a lesson and without a scratch, anyway.

“Good luck with that, love.”

“Ugh, no, you don't get to call me that!”

The nickname stuck either way. Even if, at the time, he pushed those feelings down deep inside of him.

Because you were his love, but you were also his best friend ever and he was just a dude. A boy, even.

He didn't know better and so, eventually, you got a boyfriend. Great dude, worshipped you like you deserved and all.

Mingi remembers the way he felt when you told him you loved Han. He hated the guy, hated the way he made you smile, hated the fact that he trusted him of all people because, well, there was and there will never be someone who loves you more than Mingi.

Han thought he was the one, you didn't. But even after breaking up with Han, Mingi stood still. He understood his feelings, his protectiveness over you, as something platonic. But he didn't really have time to think about it with your head on his chest, on his bed, over the sheets and with the door wide open because it was a school night after all.

School night meant no sleepovers, but his mom didn't ask you to leave when she saw you with tears in your eyes at their front door. Mingi didn't ask you to leave as you soaked his sweatshirt with said tears, either.

“I don't know why I did it, Mingi. I don't… He did nothing wrong.”

“You said you felt he was not the one.”

Your regretful eyes looked up at him “But what if he was?”

“He's not,” he whispered back to you and, at the time, he didn't know why. He had no reason to tell you Han wasn't the one for you, but his subconscious knew things he didn't accept back then. “You wouldn't be doubting it at all if he was, love.”

You ended up sleeping over that night, door wide open still, your mom texting him when she couldn't reach you on the phone.

He helped you through that breakup, just like you helped him with his first breakup as well.

He helped you mend your own wounds, he saw you grow stronger after the pain went away, he felt proud of you when you started showing up to your first uni parties without him having to convince you to go.

Mingi remembers the first time he realized he wanted to kiss you. You two were laying under the stars, a little hazy and on a rooftop you definitely shouldn't be up in.

That probably wasn't the actual first time he wanted to kiss you, just the first time he admitted it to himself. Your friends were on the rooftop as well, dancing around, yelling, being silly, just as drunk as you two were or worse but, for a moment, it was quiet. Now that he thinks back to it, he probably imagined it.

The noise quieting down, that is.

Mingi remembers that he had turned to you to ask what you thought was going on but your eyes were closed. He remembers the breath he took in as he traced the side of your face with his eyes, carefully, like the staring alone would get you out of whatever peace you were enjoying at the moment.

Have your lips always been so perfect and inviting? He answered himself immediately: Yes, of course they are perfect, she's perfect.

He doesn't really know how he didn't realize it right then and there. When his heart soared at the thought of it, of disturbing your peace only to kiss you.

And then the noise came back, laughing and screeching and something alarming came out of Jongho’s mouth.

“Shit, shit. Security!”

You opened our eyes and found him already staring at you. He should've felt embarrassed to be caught, but you smiled at him before rushing to your feet, offering your hand and shaking it for him to take it.

“Can you get up or should I stay and be escorted out with you?”

No one got caught that night except, maybe, his heart.

Because he realized he loved you around a week after that, as he saw you do the most mundane task ever: washing your teeth in front of your bathroom sink, still trying to rant about something that pissed you off in one of your classes. He remembers pressing his shoulder against the doorframe and looking at your and your frown through the mirror. He also remembers the frantic beat of his heart as he realized he wanted to do just this with you every day of his life.

Going to bed together, waking up next to you and listening to you rant about things you're going to forget the next day. He never wanted that with anyone else, only you.

You, you, you. He got so lovesick the next year after that he tried desperately to cover it up. With different activities, with people kissing his neck at parties after dancing for a while, with anything and everything that could distract him from the fact that he was utterly and irrevocably in love with you.

Not because he didn't want to explore but because every single time he tried to say something, the words would die down under the weight of years of friendship and loyal companionship.

He couldn't lose you, he didn't even know how to make sure you liked him back!

And so the yearning got unbearable enough for everyone in your friend group to notice it, except for, well, you.

“At some point you have to tell her about it, right?”

No one in the group presses on things. Woo and Gyuri (Woo’s ex girlfriend who, somehow, is still his friend and everyone's friend as well) maybe, but when it comes to matters of the heart, they let everyone be. So it surprised him when Seonghwa, of all people, spoke on it.

“You can't keep looking at her like that from a distance and waiting for it to pass, Mingi. It's not going to pass.”

He remembers sighing and then giving you one more glance before turning to his friend.

“She probably doesn't feel the same.”

“Who cares? You're never going to find out keeping it to yourself.” Seonghwa gave him a tiny smile before bumping his shoulder against his, both teasingly and reassuring. “Besides, she loves you too much to allow some romantic feelings to get in the way. Just… Think about it, yeah? Not forcing you here,” he shrugged, “but we all do, kind of, maybe, want you two to kiss.”

Snorting a laugh, Mingi remembers shaking his head no and then thinking about it for, at least, three months after that before actually making a move.

He remembers feeling humiliated by one of his attempts to put his feelings for you to rest, he remembers confiding in you and your friends, he remembers when you agreed to tell him how to make it right the next time he slept with anyone else. He doesn't really remember asking you to show him.

His mind disconnected after he saw the blush painting your cheeks beautifully, his heart took over him when he kneeled in front of you to kiss you that first time, when he allowed himself to give in and touch you like he had wanted to for so long.

And then the days and the months blended so gracefully after that summer that he doesn't really recall when the weather started getting cold, just that the color of the snow contrasts against your winter coat when you both go outside after having Christmas dinner at his house, with both your parents and his present.

They were friends before, but now? They see each other more than you two.

Well, that's a lie, but almost. And, like all best friends do when spending the holidays together, they get lost in good conversation and company, in a bubble made out of wine and laughter, cozy enough that it allows you and Mingi to slip out of his house hand in hand easily.

You have a little smile as you look around the street like you don't know the houses you pass on the way to yours. He wants to indulge you, but the words slip out his mouth without even thinking about it.

“Am I walking you home because you wanted to change into something more comfortable or because you want to give me an additional Christmas gift, love?”

“Stop ruining it! You know I'm not good at hiding things,” you click your tongue, pretending to be disappointed and kick the snow with your boot when you stop and pull him close, “We haven't got alone time in forever.”

“Two days,” he says with a nod, arms going around you and head going down to kiss your lips tenderly for a quick second, “Three, if we count today.”

You pout “That's like… A lifetime.”

“I know,” he gives in, chuckling against your lips, “I'm going through withdrawal symptoms and all.”

He watches as you close your eyes and lean in. He gets ready for it, inhaling cold air that hits his lungs as a reminder where you two are, what he's allowed to enjoy in public, and closes his eyes as he waits for your kiss that never comes.

Instead, your nose nuzzles his softly, barely nudging the skin and you take a step back, taking his gloved hand and intertwining it with yours “I also may or may not have a gift for you.”

Smiling in victory, Mingi fakes an annoyed gasp “I knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah, you're so smart,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and entering your front yard without letting go of him. “Hurry, I'm freezing!”

“This was your idea, love.” He deadpans but hurries anyways and afterwards, as the warmth of the foyer allows him to shrug off his coat and leave it in its designated spot by the door, he laughs at your clear enthusiasm.

You're already shoeless, coatless, gloveless and scarfless and waiting at the third step of the stairs, impatiently blinking at him as a signal to hurry up, again. And when goes upstairs with you, you make him promise to keep his eyes closed as he walks towards your room.

“You're too tall, I can't cover them with my hands so promise, Song Mingi.”

“My eyes are literally closed!”

He hears a door open. It has that creaking sound the door to your room has and when the smell of your perfume hits him as you press your hands to his chest to stop him, he doesn't have to open his eyes to know where he is. He knows his way around these halls anyway.

You turn him, so that his back is probably facing your room, and then instruct:

“Look up and open your eyes.”

Mistletoe. That's what he sees when he opens his eyes: mistletoe that is badly tape to your door frame, just above him. It makes him smile and then the best friend in him takes over when he looks down at you and your blushed cheeks.

“Love… That's so chees—”

“Just kiss me, you idiot.”

And he does. He lifts you up from the floor and you bury your fingers in his hair before securing your legs around his waist and he walks the room he knows like the back of his hand until he reaches the bed. He doesn't sit down or puts you down yet, lazily opening your mouth with his tongue when you sigh against him.

“Wait— Mm,” you speak against his mouth, words silenced by his eager tongue a second later. He has to physically throw his head back to stop himself from kissing you further, but when his eyes return to his face, his will almost falters. “That was not the gift.”

“Okay.” He breathes out, smiling.

“Sit on the floor.”

He does and the carpet is soft under his fidgeting hands as he watches you move around the room. You go into your closet (literally, you disappear behind the closed doors) and when you come back with a large box he blinks a few times in astonishment.

Huge box, really. It almost doesn't fit the space between you when you sit down in front of him and glance at him excitedly, a shy color to your voice when you speak again “Open it!”

There's no way he can help the smile that curves his lips when he opens the box and finds an assortment of handmade things. Yes, the ornament that you made may have looked like something else entirely, but he starts to believe you made it on purpose when he pulls out the first gift: a bouquet made out of candy, his favorite sweets.

“This is beautiful, love…”

He lets out a chuckle when you steal one immediately and he promises to dig into it once he goes through all the gifts.

There's a box with a card underneath that he goes to pick up but you stop him with a trembling hand “Save that one for last.” And he notices you're a little bit nervous, so he does, his own heart skipping at what might've inside the box, a similar yet smaller one weighing on the pocket of the coat he left downstairs.

The other things left on the box are a few bills in the shape of hearts and a wooden sphere that he finds out, seconds later, it's a picture museum.

“I couldn't fit every important picture we took together in a regular shaped box so I had to get this one.” You explain as he looks at the inside of the sphere. It looks like a miniature museum and Mingi feels like crying a little, so he takes your hand in his and gives it a kiss to ground himself “They're in chronological order, too, I had to consult the ancient texts to get them all right!”

He laughs, confused “The ancient texts?”

“Yes, my Instagram story archive.” You return, nodding and he gives your hand another kiss before letting it go to set down the museum next to the bills and the bouquet.

You let out a shaky breath when he returns his attention to the box and picks it up. You pick up the card.

“Before you open it, let me read this to you.”

“Of course,” he returns softly and takes the trembling hand you're extending in his direction.

“First of all, look at how cute this is,” you turn the card and inside of it, it's decorated with kisses. Your kisses. Mingi would recognize them anywhere and he tries to take the card from you but you bat his hand away with it. “Later, let me read this to you. Um…

“Dear Mingi,” he giggles at the formality of your tone and then forces himself to stop at the look you give him. “Dear Mingi,” you start again, “I don't have a way with words and I've re-written this letter a thousand times but I think I have come to terms with the fact that there are no words invented, no language discovered, that can accurately immortalize my feelings for you. The love I hold for you transcends everything and everyone, every concept ever created and every new idea future generations come up with. And, as I try to come up with a joke that can give this overdone confession any lightness, I have also come to terms with the fact that you're it for me. I already knew this, of course,” you laugh and he has to laugh a little, heartbeat on his throat and eyes full of tears and all, “I already knew how much I loved you. Platonically, romantically, it all has just blended into one because it doesn't really matter how I loved you, it just matters that I have the opportunity to do so, my love. I love you.”

When your eyes catch his, the tears are already wetting his cheeks.

“And now what didn't fit in the letter, because I chose this tiny ass card,” you laugh again, eyes already wet even though he can see you're telling yourself not to cry. “Our first Christmas together was the time I realized I wanted you in my life forever. It just felt right, like we belonged somehow and we do, Mingi. So I— Open the box.” You quickly say and when he does, the whole thing falls apart.

Kind of.

When he pulls the rope tied in a bow at the top and the sides fall he makes a noise of surprise that makes you laugh.

The sides have more pictures of you two and in the middle of the box there's another tiny box that he opens to find a necklace.

With a ring that could fit him as its charm and a silver chain that's not too delicate but not too rough, just like the one he uses on a daily basis.

The ring has your initials engraved on the inside and his initials engraved on the outside. He lets out a sob that prompts your tears to flow freely down your face and he catches you wiping them.

“I didn't want to give you this with the rest of your gifts this morning because, well, I'm shy and—”

“You are not shy.” He speaks over you, wiping his tears.

“And I didn't want our parents to scream marriage at us. I don't want to scream marriage at you either, my love,” you say before he gets any ideas. And it did cross his mind a second ago, but he's far from terrified of it. “But I wanted you to have something to remember me by, with our initials in it, as a token of how much I love you, Mingi.”

He doesn't even know what to say.

“A lot. I love you a lot, if you couldn't tell.” You add and he laughs and manages to scoot around the box of gifts to wrap his arms around your frame. You laugh into the skin of his neck, hugging him back.

“I love you too,” he whispers, his lips close to your ear and his heart beating fast still. When he pulls back, you try to give him a kiss and he stops you, which prompts a confused look on your side. “You know that they say that overtime couples start to think alike?”

“Look alike,” you correct with a tilt of your head and he gives you a look, so you backtrack, smiling. “No, yeah, couples start to think alike.” You nod and then let out a noise in protest of him getting up.

He points his finger at you “Wait here.”

And then he bolts downstairs, to his coat.

It really does say something about you two, about the way your minds sync up at most needed time. Because as he enters your room, box in hand and knees hitting the carpet in front of you, he can tell you got his point immediately.

“I'm not screaming marriage at you yet, love and I also didn't get you a letter or a chain to go with it, but—” He hands you the box and lets you open it, head immediately trying to paint into his memory the way you gasp at the ring, the way you take it delicately into your hands and examine it with care. “But I bought this months ago, in that antique shop you like so much because it reminded me of you and how could it not? Do you see how beautiful it is?”

It sparkles under your bedroom light, but he can see it from a distance: all the delicate details that make it look like there's two hands holding the pearl in the middle. In a way, it looks like two hands holding a heart.

Just like you hold his heart.

“As a token of your much I love you, Y/N.”

You pout as he takes the ring and puts it on your finger.

“You can't just steal my speech, Song Min—”

He kisses you again. He can't not kiss you, he can't help but get you into your arms and thank you for choosing the ground to present your gift because he's anything but careful as he stands up, drags you with him, and sits on the bed with you on top of him.

“Shit, hold on—”

“Hm?” There's concern in the way your eyebrows crease and Mingi gets briefly distracted by how kissed out and breathless you look for a second before reaching for the floor.

“My necklace,” he explains, reaching for the box and successfully getting it in his hand without having to take you off his lap. “Put it on for me, love?”

“So you liked it?” You ask nonchalantly as you take the necklace, legs opening a bit more so that you're sitting further into his lap.

“You literally made me cry, Y/N. Tears,” he says, making a face that you catch before closing the clasp behind his neck.

“Of joy?” You return in a whisper, eyes so sweet and smile so shy it makes him want to cry all over again.

“I love you.” He says instead of answering the question, lips touching yours again, softly, wanting, forgetting you don't have a lot of time before your parents wonder where you went.

There's no way careful thoughts can get through the fog your sighs against him create, in the way your teeth sink into the plush of his bottom lip and pull until he's moaning, the sting of pain passing by as your tongue caresses his.

You've been getting a little bold lately, the nature of your encounters is always passionate but, somewhat, normal. Mingi loves every second you decide to give yourself to him but he also fucking loves when you do shit you like.

Like taking control of the kiss, pulling his hair so his head can fall back and you can slowly make it messier, sloppier, even after the sweet moment you two just shared.

Hands start to roam freely and, by the time you pull on his hair to detach your mouth from his fully, he's already breathless and hard against the fabric of his pants, mouth wet with shared spit.

He's sure his pupils are blown, he's sure he's red on the face and fucked out already. He knows his expression mirrors yours as you take him, and the necklace, in, eyes scanning his frame before you roll your hips against him.

He moans pathetically.

You smile at the sound.

“Like anything you see?” He tries to tease you to no avail.

“You look so hot like this…” The hand tangled in his hair moves and he closes his eyes to welcome the feeling of your nails softly digging into his skin as they make their way into his neck, over the necklace and the ring resting against his collarbone.

“With the necklace on?”

“And the sweater.”

He glances at his beige sweater with an arched brown and then he looks at your sweater, a warmer tone of beige than his, the neck a little high but not high enough to be considered a turtle neck, with the same expression.

He puts the pieces together and then scoffs out an impressed laugh.

“Where did you learn this kink, love?”

“It's not a kink,” you defend yourself immediately, laughing when he looks at you like he doesn't believe it and then he leans in again, peppering your jaw with slow, open mouth kisses, “I just saw a video the other day and…”

“And?” He encourages you with a shift of his hips of his own, gaining a curse that slips past your lips.

“And then I saw you today in this.” The palm of your hand slips from his neck and into the fabric of the sweater, thumb passing over his nipple with purpose. He hisses in response. “So… We could leave it on, hm? What do you think?”

He raises an eyebrow, trying to bite his smile back “What did they do in the video, love?”

“Oh,” you giggle into his shoulder as he kisses every inch of skin available to him, “it was a homemade video. I don’t watch anything super produced, you know that. They, uhm… Fuck, babe,” he licks his way up the side of your neck, successfully making you melt against him. “She was looking at her phone and he was eating her out,” you manage to get out. “And then she got on her stomach, legs straight a-and closed while he fucked her. Used her, kinda.” He pulls back at that, both intrigued and wanting to see if that’s what you actually want.

“Used her to get off?”

You nod and he leans in, nose brushing yours.

“Is that what you want me to do with you?”

“After you get me off,” you whisper back, smiling without any shame at your request “yeah.”

Mingi takes his time to think about it. On purpose, letting the tension linger as he presses both palms against the mattress, leaning back just enough so you can catch him checking you out unapologetically. Truth being told, his dick is twitching in his pants at the thought of helping you explore. This has always been your dynamic in bed: exploring, searching, discovering new things that make you wet, researching new ways of making you come and there’s nothing that gets him off more than the idea of you getting away with what you want.

Even if that means sweating the fabric of this expensive sweater through. It’s okay, he has a washing machine. The way you wait for an answer, with eyes so bright and expectant, makes him bite his lip in return.

Yeah, there’s nothing he enjoys more than pleasing you.

He also knows you enjoy this.

The anticipation. The teasing, the way his hand returns to your legs and slides the material of the sweater up slightly, only to neglect the idea a second after and, instead, turning his hand and letting his knuckles brush against the fabric of it deliberately, with laced intention into the touch even though his expression remains pensive at the proposal.

A proposal he accepted, like, the second after you said it outloud.

“Do you know how much I love your tits, love?”

You let out a sigh as your answer and one look at you is enough to encourage him to keep going. Knuckles brushing upwards, he catches your firm nipple through the fabric. It's a little hard to do; considering you're probably wearing two layers underneath to shield you from the December cold; but he manages and you let out a needy whine.

“Do you know how much I love you if I’m going to fuck you without taking one look at them?”

Damn. He doesn’t really mean for his voice to sound so raspy but it does and the way your lips curve in mischief let’s him know that you catch it for what it really means: He’s so lost in it, in the sensual bickering, that he can’t help but show how affected he is, one way or another.

And then there’s the urgency of getting on with it because you don’t know how much time you get alone, until someone calls your phone and asks for you or until your parents get tired of the wine and come back home.

So it really does happen in a flash when you grab the collar of his sweater and smash his lips against yours with need, with a newfound spark that excites him. He practically rushes to take your bottoms off, to slide down until they pool at his ankles, to turn on the bed until you’re laying on your back and his mouth is marking your inner thighs, adding new color to the bruises already lingering there.

You’re twitching under his touch and he has to press your hips down to keep you still when he takes your panties off and dives into your folds. Usually, he would be prepping you to make a mess. You teached him how to make you squirt months ago, the day before you officially got together and he has had the pleasure of making you see stars since then.

Today, there’s not enough time.

So he wastes no time in devouring you like he knows you like it. Your leg thrown over his shoulder, the sweater and the shirt underneath rising just enough for him to thrust his hips against the bed at the image of your skin.

You try to keep it down, he sees you trying to contain yourself and under any other circumstances, he would scold you for depriving him of the sounds you make. But this time around, the view edges him. He wonders briefly what other scenarios he can propose to have you gulping down your moans, to make you gasp for air after pressing the palm of your own hand over your mouth so no more whines slip out of your lips.

He doubles his efforts, just to see you trying to contain yourself and failing to do so, again. It makes you double your efforts as well, probably just to spite him as you thrust your hips and chase your high, but it doesn't bother him.

If anything, it makes him harder than ever. The way you ride his face, the tongue that flattens out and then curves around your clit and your conviction falters, hips falling still at the way he sucks into your sensitive nub. Your hand in his hair pulls a little and the sting of pain almost makes him come untouched.

Chuckling into your heat, Mingi catches the exact moment your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels your limbs locking, he tastes your release when your orgasm hits you, he helps you ride out the sensation while pleased moans fill the room.

And, usually, he would kiss his way up to your lips. He could right now too, over the sweater, the idea of the fuzzy material mixing with your orgasm it's tempting but he remembers you have to see people after this as well.

He remembers he doesn't have much time.

And your words are ringing on the back of his head when his mouth latches onto yours again, when you moan after tasting yourself on his tongue.

He pulls away to silently ask the question: Do you want to keep going?

You nod, nose nuzzling his briefly before he turns you around. Harshly, like he knows you like it. He sees you grasp the comforter and a pillow between your fingers when he sinks himself into your wet heat, he hears the muffled cry when he adjusts a little and when you close your legs to lie flatly on the bed and in-between his, he all but sees stars at the feeling.

You're not tight. That's good, that's a sign that you're comfortable with him, trusting of him, a sign that you want you. This position makes it a snug fit, though, and when you purposefully squeeze around him he presses on his hands on your lower back with a groan.

“S-stop stalling, baby, we're running out of ti— Fuck, Mingi!”

Pulling out and then slamming his hips back down with measured force, he marvels in the feeling of you genuinely squeezing around him, out of pleasure and not to tease him.

“Is this what you wanted?” He asks, forehead connecting with the soft material of the sweater when he leans over you, on your shoulder and smiles when you moan at the way he picks up the pace.

“Yes, yes, yes, f-fuck,” you mumble in response, head turning and breath fawning on his cheek that you attempt to kiss a second later, so he complies and turns his head to kiss you sweetly, a complete contrast of the way he's thrusting into you.

He falters when he notices just how hard he is going but your hand shoots back, attempts to grab his hip and your head shakes in disapproval.

“Don't stop,” you ask, breathless, eyes scanning his face to see if he's not into this but he assumes you don't find that because he is into it, “use me, my love. That's what I want.”

You don’t have to repeat yourself. He leans back up, hands finding a secure spot on your hips and uses you like you asked. He’s hardly the one to seek his own relief so soon. He likes to take his time with you, even when you don’t have much, and that means making you come undone at least twice before he even allows his dick to be touched, but now?

With how turned on he is? With how full of love he is for you?

He remembers the time, the years he didn’t allow himself to see you in nothing but platonic light. He remembers the feeling of your lips on his for the first time, he remembers the love you professed to him today and the way you make him feel so wanted, so adored, so—

“Oh— fuck.”

His pace falters, his orgasm so close he’s unable to keep chasing for it with the same measured force he was using before.

“Yes, Mingi,” you encourage, somehow managing to move your body upwards, meeting his own, “don’t stop, baby, please, I want to feel you inside of me.”

He vaguely registers himself moaning, babbling nonsense as his movements pick back up. He hears your voice distantly, like he’s underwater, like the way you tell him to come inside of him and that you love him it’s what’s pulling him back up.

And when he releases inside of you, his ears ring slightly and his forehead meets your back, eyes closed and chest heaving. He feels his heartbeat on his throat, he feels your heartbeat on your back and its rhythm matches his beautifully.

No one says anything for a few minutes where you both try and recover from the intensity of what you just did. Something new, something that leaves you both exhausted and he can see it on your sleepy and content smile when he pulls out and you turn around, not giving a fuck that you’re bedding is probably going to get sticky with his cum.

He throws himself besides you and your nose touches his cheek immediately.

“That was…”

“So good,” you say and he hugs you close, breath still ragged, “and we should definitely look into sweater fetish or whatever it’s called. I think you enjoyed it more than me.”

He gasps in feign offense.

“Stop projecting, love.”

“Am not—”

“Yes, you are,” he sing-songs back and you weakly hit his arm with your fist. You don’t say anything afterwards and Mingi stops staring at the stars in your ceiling to look at you.

You’re staring at your ring. He smiles, all the emotions that your words brought to him coming right back.

“I want to marry you, Y/N.”

He says it without really thinking it through. He doesn’t regret it even when you look up at him with a little panic behind your eyes.

“Now?”

He laughs “Someday,” shrugging, his lips connect with your hairline and you sigh, snuggling up to him a bit more “There’s going to be two more rings that I’m going to give to you and only you.”

“Good thing you got my ring size right.”

Your joke makes him laugh and you lean up against his chest a bit to look at him.

“I’m going to say yes, Mingi,” you whisper and he melts against the pillow, his hand on your cheek a second later. He sees your eyes go down to the ring on his necklace and the smile that brings to your lips makes his heart pick up again. “And then I’m going to show off my ring to everyone and I’m going to be insufferable as a wife. I hope you’re ready.”

You fall back down on his chest, cheek just above the beating of his heart and eyes closed. The smile lingers on your lips and, as he brushes your hair back with his hand and smooths his hand under your sweater, he can’t help but smile back.

“I don’t want it any other way, love.”

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH and happy holidays! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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7s3ven · 1 month ago

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TF 141 + THEIR FAV CHRISTMAS ACTIVITY W/ YOU.

( master list )

John Price - gift wrapping

Price has perfected the art of wrapping Christmas presents and although he loves you with all his heart… he can’t say the same about you. It’s easy to tell who wrapped whose gift based on whether the paper is neat or scrunched up.

You’ve never had the talent for gift wrapping, choosing to fold the paper in random directions instead. As long as it covers the gift itself, it’s good enough.

You know Price hates your wrapping technique so it’s no surprise that you find him downstairs on Christmas Eve, frantically rewrapping your gifts.

“John, honey, couldn’t this wait until tomorrow?” You rub your eyes as you stop at the top of the stairs. You see Price freeze before he slowly turns his head to face you.

“John? Never heard of him. I’m… Santa Claus?”

You send him a deadpan look. “John, get your ass back in bed now. I need something to hug.” You retreat back to your shared bed, waiting for your husband.

It takes him two minutes to rush back into the room, peel off his shirt, and climb back under the covers.

Peaceful silence engulfs the room until Price parts his lips. “Are you sure you don’t want to take that gift wrapping class?” He utters. You lightly slap his shoulder in response.

Simon Riley - decorating the tree and car

Simon has always preferred a more quiet atmosphere where he can tend to his thoughts. He knows how much you adore Christmas so he tries his best to enjoy the holiday without feeling overwhelmed. You quickly realized that Simon hated stepping out of his comfort zone, hence why you suggested Christmas activities that catered towards his silent personality.

This included decorating the tree. Simon was at peace for once as the fire crackled in the background while he effortlessly lifted you up, allowing you to place a few ornaments at the top of the tree.

He liked minimalistic designs, not a huge fan of chaos like Jonny was. That’s why your tree only had ornaments that represented a particular moment. There was a red jewelled sphere that Simon had bought for you two years ago and a small framed picture of the two of you cuddled up on a couch (taken by Kyle).

Strangely enough, Simon yearned to decorate something else after the tree was complete. Thus, he moved onto the car.

John (Johnny) Mctavish - building an army of snow men

Between decorating every surface of your shared house and having an endless supply of nutmeg, Johnny’s favourite activity is building snowmen. Or rather, snow creatures. He is the epitome of ‘do you wanna build a snowman?’. In fact, you’re sure he’s blasted that song enough during a cold winter day that it’ll be on his Spotify wrapped.

Sometimes Johnny creates cute snow sculptures, like the adorable bear you were sitting beside that almost felt like a pet. Other times, he’s building questionable ones. You watch as Johnny wraps a scarf around his newly made (and rather lopsided) snowman.

“Johnny, love, what is that?” You call out as you absentmindedly pick up a handful of snow.

Johnny grins as he sticks a carrot in the middle of its face, proudly showing you his newest snowman. “It looks like Simon, don’t you think?”

If you squint enough and tilt your head at a specific angle, the snowman doesn’t look as goofy. “Sure, whatever floats your boat.” You offer Johnny a reassuring smile to hide the fact that the snowman does not resemble Simon Riley in any way.

Kyle Garrick - baking

One thing Kyle loves more than eating your Christmas cookies is helping you make them. He has a soft spot for seeing you in an apron and focused on mixing the dough.

“Kyle, can you find the cookie cutters for me?” You ask, blinking up at him innocently. He sends you a charming grin, immediately opening every drawer he can get his hands on.

It takes him half an hour to actually find the cookie cutters and by then, you’re done with the dough.

“Took you long enough.” You laugh at him, pinching his muscled bicep. Kyle finds joy in using the cookie cutters to create different shapes; trees, snowflakes, reindeer. But his absolute favourite part is decorating.

He has a knack for adding too many sprinkles, leaving little to no cookie left. Nevertheless, when you plate the treats, you make sure to put his creations in the middle.

“They look cute, love.” You say as you softly kiss his nose. He knows you’re lying but he doesn’t really care, not when your hands are running through his hair and you’re peppering his face with smooches.

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makeyoumine69 · 1 year ago

Text

My Dear Little Girl

PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: The Christmas gift you never imagined.

CONTAINS: Smut, fluff, unprotected sex (p in v), creampie, oral sex (f), tongue fucking, nipple play/sucking, body worship, praise kink, manhandling, dirty talk, pet names, marking, biting, established relationships, Service!Dom!Patrick Bateman himself.

WORDS: 3.3k

SONG REC: The Neighbourhood - Softcore

A/N: Merry Christmas guys, I'm so happy to have you all! 💞

LINKS: [MASTERLIST]

There has always been something magical about Christmas, the holiday atmosphere, the sweet smell of tangerines and the clinking of champagne glasses. Yes, all of this became a standard set of things that people thought of when it came to Christmas. And you were probably one of those who believed in miracles that could happen during this magical time. At least you tried to believe it, but when Bateman told you that he had to go to his company Christmas party tonight, that actually brought you back down to Earth, because sometimes our expectations simply didn't match up with reality. And that was absolutely fine — those were the exact words you told Patrick when he called you a few hours ago, before he actually went to that party.

Everything was fine.

You repeated this over and over again as you walked around your apartment in Manhattan, which was not as spacious as Bateman's, but you really loved it, especially now, with the beautiful Christmas tree that shone brightly with different illuminations when you turned off the lights. Since you knew Patrick wasn't coming, there was no point in waiting to open the bottle of the finest red wine he'd given you especially for this Christmas Eve. Sighing, you poured yourself a big glass of the red liquid, took some sweets and went back to your living room, where you stood at the wide window and looked at the breathtaking scenery of New York City in winter — this year it was quite snowy, which could not make you happy, even though you were going to spend this evening alone.

As the fireworks began to paint the midnight sky in ornaments of different shapes and colors, you couldn't take your eyes off this sight, as you were absolutely mesmerized. At first, you didn't even hear the doorbell ring, and only when it rang for the tenth time in a row did you realize that someone was at your front door, which actually scared you a bit because it was already quite late.

Your steady footsteps echoed off the walls of your hallway as you finally reached the door and looked through the peephole - the person you saw almost made you drop your glass to the floor. Damn, you should have left it in the living room.

Before you slowly opened the door, you coughed several times to clear your throat, and you also quickly fixed your hair — although your whole appearance could hardly be called fancy or party-like, as you wore your casual top and shorts set — the moment you and Bateman saw each other, you both remained silent, as if you were seeing each other for the first time.

"Well, hello (y/n)," he was the first to speak, with his absolutely haughty smile that always left you no choice but to be embarrassed. "I thought you were out walking somewhere."

"At this time?"

Patrick grinned even wider before glancing to the right, where a small commotion could be heard. "Some people here are already celebrating, you know."

Rolling your eyes, you stepped aside to let him enter. "What happened to the Christmas party?"

Your question made the man chuckle as he brushed some snow from his shoulders before taking off his beautiful dark blue coat. "Actually — nothing."

"Nothing?"

"That's exactly what I said." Patrick crooned and came closer to you, pressing his cold palm against your cheek, making you squirm and almost spilling wine on your shirt. "Uhh, you have such warm cheeks, honey."

"Okay, I'll ask it another way," you managed to regain your composure, even though Bateman seemed to be doing his best to make you lose your cool. "Why are you here?"

Pulling his hand away from your face, Bateman narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms after checking the time on his Rolex. "Were you expecting someone else?"

And now his voice sounded as grumpy as if he was seriously asking that question, but instead of defending yourself, you just chuckled and took a sip of your drink.

"Oh yes, I was expecting a handsome man so we could drink this wonderful wine and... talk about music, the meaning of life and whether or not true love exists." You chirped quickly before taking his hand and dragging him into your living room before this conversation could lose its jokey undertone.

"That was," Bateman stammered when he finally realized what drink you were holding. "That was very smart. Have you ever thought of applying to a Broadway theater? I think they would love to offer you a job." His statement made you stop and turn to give him a deadly stare. "What? If you don't like theater, you can always try your luck in the circus."

"Patrick!" You scolded, fighting the urge to throw your drink right in his cheeky face. "You were the one who told me I would be alone today! And you didn't even suggest that I go with you!"

Having said that, you continued on your way to the living room, but without holding Patrick's hand as you left the man behind, though his expression was still as bright as the New York sky inscribed with fireworks. "Wait a minute, honey," Bateman muttered, following you. "You made it pretty clear that you don't want to go to parties like that, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't," you lied, bursting into a soft laugh, swirling the glass in your hand. "Oh, this wine tastes amazing, by the way. Would you like to try some?"

The sudden change of subject just made him smile cheekily, and before he could answer, Bateman tucked his hands into the pockets of his Amrani pants and leaned against the door to your living room. "I know this wine is good, that's why I gave it to you, sweetheart," his brilliant, full-toothed smile made your heartbeat faster and for a moment you even forgot what you were doing. "But yes, I would definitely have a drink."

"Whatever you say, Mr. Grinch." You mumbled playfully and went to the kitchen.

Fireworks began to explode just as you opened the shelf to grab a glass for him, thanking God you managed to hold it in your hand. The loud sound coming from the outside drowned out the approaching footsteps behind you, so when a pair of strong, big arms wrapped around your waist, you didn't even have time to get scared, you just gasped and fell right into Patrick's tight embrace.

"I got you," he whispered in your ear, sucking on your lobe tenderly, but with an undisguised desire for something more intimate. "You little liar." Bateman pulled you closer with a possessive grip as his hand carefully found its way to yours to take the glass and place it on the smooth surface of the kitchen counter. "We don't want any trouble, do we?"

Panting, you turned halfway to look up into his brown, mesmerizing eyes. "Patrick," you let him nuzzle your cheek, his perfect nose brushing against yours, and then Bateman kissed you softly on your plump lips. "Mmhm, I'm so glad you came, I've missed you and —"

"Shhh," he silenced you with his thumb, his glowing gaze never leaving your beautiful face. "I know, darling," another sensual kiss was planted on your neck this time, eliciting a muffled moan from your half-open mouth. "You don't have to say anything else, just relax..." Patrick nipped at your throat more eagerly, leaving marks here and there, while his hands drew invisible ornaments all along your inviting little form. "...and let me take care of you."

Dear Lord, it was impossible to think clearly, not when he was talking to you like that and his hot lips were caressing that exact spot behind your ear, driving you absolutely crazy and you didn't even notice the way your hips were grinding against his hard groin, spurring him on to go even further. Groaning softly into your ear, Bateman couldn't wait any longer, his pants getting too tight with every brush of your ass against his throbbing length.

"Fuck, babe, you're so gorgeous," he purred in a low voice, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your shoulder, then moving lower to your shoulder blade, pulling up your top to taste your skin. "Do you know what I was thinking about during the party?" Bateman asked suddenly, tugging at the lace of your shorts, tantalizing you with his intentions.

"N-no, tell me," you closed your eyes from the intoxicating pleasure of his thin fingers darting across your belly, but when they finally reached your heated core, you couldn't keep a loud whimper from breaking out of your dry lips. "Please, a-ahhh, tell me everything."

"Uh, look at you," he quickly licked the back of your neck before grabbing a handful of your soaked pussy. "Such a curious little kitty," Patrick huffed, suddenly pulling down your shorts with your wet panties, leaving you no chance to even react, not to mention struggling. "I was thinking about you," Bateman carefully lifted one of your legs to rest it on the kitchen counter, then crouched down behind you, leaving a sloppy kiss on your lower back. "About fucking you senseless, to be exact."

"Oh my God," you mewled, clinging to the surface of the counter as you felt his hot breath between your legs. "I was... I was thinking about that too."

Smirking to himself, Bateman gave your ass a few firm squeezes before finally touching you where you wanted him most, his warm tongue feeling so fucking amazing on your swollen clit. "Oh, that's interesting," he cooed to you, enjoying the way your body reacted to his every move, it was always amusing and turned him on, the knowledge of having such power over you was enough to make him rock hard. "Looks like you're just pretending to be shy. Now spread these beautiful legs wider for me," as you did so he used both hands to massage your buttocks before sliding his digits along your tight lower lips to get better access to your wet entrance. "Good girl, so fucking good for me."

With that, he plunged his tongue into your tight hole, trapping you in place as you jerked in his grasp from the intense sensation in your lower abdomen, but that was only the beginning as the next moment, Bateman returned his assault on your little bud, rubbing it in intense circular motions.

"A-awwww, Patrick," your sweet voice was music to his ears, especially when he made you do those high-pitched wails, each time his tongue sank deeper into your soft, inner channel. "Please...that feels so..."

"Good?" he chuckled before peppering your dripping slit with little kisses. "Jesus, you're so yummy, mmmh," Patrick lapped at your pussy like a starved man, gripping your ass tightly to remind you who was in charge here. "I'd like to stay between these legs forever if I could."

By the time he was done eating you out, you could barely breathe as you balanced on the edge of falling into the oblivion of pure ecstasy, his chiseled face covered in your sweet flavor, which he immediately cleaned up with his tongue.

"Patrick, it felt so damn amazing..." you whimpered and turned around to see him undoing his expensive suit, his red tie already loosened, making him look even sexier, if it was possible to be hotter than he was. "Please."

With a sassy grin, Bateman unbuttoned his blue shirt, revealing an absolutely mouth-watering view of his sculpted chest and perfect abs. "Please what, honey?" He cupped your face before pulling you into a ravenous kiss, his tongue swirling shamelessly around yours, making you moan at how heavenly he kissed you. "Use your words, make me proud of how bold you are."

A brisk unzipping sound hit you like a whip, giving you a strange feeling of liberation and excitement. "I want you, all of you. Whatever you will give me, I'll take gladly."

You could see his nostrils flaring with each word, as if you were a moth to a flame. Biting his lower lip, the man came closer just to pick you up as if you weighed nothing, and he walked into your bedroom, where the beautiful garlands on the window shone with all the colors of the rainbow, making the whole atmosphere truly magical, especially with the lights off.

Bateman didn't like it at first, but when he saw your childishly happy face, he gently placed you on the bed, towering over you like a mountain. "Lovely here."

"You like it?" Your question forced him to frown in irritation, but he just pecked your temple and shamelessly removed your top, leaving you completely bare before his hungry eyes. "I spent a lot of time decorating it."

Smiling ironically, Patrick placed a reassuring kiss on your temple before he removed the last of his clothes and you finally felt his soft skin against yours, you couldn't help but hook your hands and legs around him like a vine. "I like it." Of course, he didn't, you knew that, but it didn't matter because now you two belonged to each other, both physically and mentally. "C'mere, babygirl," Bateman suddenly sat down on the bed and invited you to get on top of him. "Today we're going to try something new. Do you trust me?"

Breathing heavily, you nodded, and the next thing you knew his thick cock was sliding along your wet folds as he held you tightly by your waist, manhandling you with such ease as if you were a feather. With a longing growl, the man pressed you closer to his strong body so he could graze your collarbone and play with your engorged nipples as he literally buried his face between your breasts, squeezing them with both hands.

"Mhhm, Patty!" You moaned as he sucked on two of your little peaks at once, his leaky tip already prodding at your dripping opening as Patrick decided to test the patience of both of you. "Please, oh-please, fuck me, please, fuck...fuck me!"

Bateman snickered against your neck, sending little tickles that made you smile, and he couldn't stop himself from squeezing your cheeks as you looked so fucking cute and sinful right now. "Uh, I'll give you more than that."

After that, he carefully grabbed you by the back of your neck and slowly lowered you down onto his beefy dick, the second your bodies finally connected, you both let out loud moans and held each other tighter as if your lives depended on it.

"Mmhm-fuck," the man had to close his eyes from the way your pussy was clinging to his huge cock, encompassing it so tightly that you both saw stars as Patrick supported your bobbing movements, holding your hips in his big palms and rocking his own towards yours. "You feel...f-fucking amazing!"

"I love you, I love you, Patty!" you cried out desperately, looping your hands around his neck to pull him closer as your bodies intertwined like snakes, each move bringing so much pleasure as he could fuck you so deeply and lustfully in this position. "Please, c-cum inside me!"

Your words made his eyes open wide and then you heard a low, guttural growl as Bateman suddenly pushed you down, forcing you to lie on your back and lift your legs to press them against his broad chest as he began to pound harder, rolling his hips to stimulate your G-spot.

"Is that what my dear girl wants, huh?" The man asked, mesmerized by the sight of your bouncing breasts, the lewd sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling your bedroom, making you scream shamelessly in pure bliss as his swollen tip brushed relentlessly against your cervix, stimulating you in a way that could bring you to climax without even touching your clit. "'C'mon honey, milk my dick and I'll give you my cum." In addition to his dirty talk, Patrick pecked your ankle as gently as he could — on the verge of a frenzy, he could just ravish you until you couldn't move, but right now he was trying his best to focus on your release. "Do it for me, sweetheart, cum around my dick like a good girl!"

Creasing the sheets, you threw your head back onto the pillows from the pulsating sensation in your lower body. "Pat-Patty! A-aaahhh—" You choked on your own moan, writhing erratically around the bed, and only his strong arms managed to hold you in place as Bateman was aware that you were about to fall off the fucking bed.

"That's it, mhm," Patrick watched you attentively, relishing the way your eyebrows knit together from how hard you cum on his fat dick, your eyes closed and your lips frozen in a silent moan. "So fucking gorgeous, so fucking...mm-so fucking tight, fuck!"

Bateman shifted his position again, covering you from above, transferring his weight to his sturdy arms as he rammed into you like a jackhammer, you could feel his heavy balls slapping against your cunt in the obscenest way possible. And then the man finally collapsed inside you, painting your velvety walls white, pinning you down with his huge frame and biting your shoulder like an animal claiming its prey. You couldn't move and you were barely breathing, but you took him completely, until his hot liquid began to flow from your ruined pussy, flooding the sheets beneath you. Spent and exhausted, Patrick kissed and licked the mark he had just left before pressing his forehead against yours, holding you tightly in his arms and you knew he would never let you go as you were born to be his.

Moments later, you were standing next to the Christmas tree in your living room, Bateman sitting on the small couch, finally having his drink, but not wine as he managed to find some whiskey in your minibar.

"Next time, let's put a Christmas tree in your apartment!" You suddenly blurted out, clapping your hands.

"No, don't even think about it, kitten," Patrick almost choked on his drink and coughed several times. "Oh, honey, don't make that face."

Damn, although you knew that Bateman didn't like all that stuff, it made you sad anyway, so the man had no choice but to comfort you here and now, before the situation got worse.

After putting the glass on the nearby coffee table, he stood up and approached you from behind, hugging you, but you were still pouting. "Listen," he whispered into your ear. "I have something for you, something special that will make you forget everything."

"What is it?"

Thrilled, Patrick slipped into the pocket of his robe, which he had brought especially to your place because he couldn't stand any other robes but his own, and took out a small, velvety box. "And what do you think it is?"

As soon as you turned around and saw this little box, something in your mind flashed like fireworks. "Oh my God, Patrick..." you covered your face in your hands from shock. "Is that..."

Bateman opened the box in one swift motion, revealing a magnificent ring that shone brightly, reflecting the illumination of the Christmas tree. "I want us to meet next Christmas in a different status," he murmured, taking the ring in his hand. "You know what I mean?" Tears welled in your eyes as you couldn't believe this was happening. "Will you be my wife, (y/n)?"

At first, you couldn't say anything because you were shocked, but then you managed to whisper. "Yes, yes, of course I will," and then you snuggled into his warm embrace, allowing him to put the ring on your finger and kiss your forehead, and this kiss was different because now you were his fiancée. "I love you, I love you so much!"

With a bright grin on his flawless face, Patrick rested his chin on the top of your head and stroked your hair. "Merry Christmas, my dear little girl. I love you too."

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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puckinghischier · 1 month ago

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Decorating with Nico for Christmas thoughts

oh he’d loveeeeeee decorating for christmas. he’d be like a little kid, begging to put the tree up the second the air gets cold outside. november first, he’s dragging it all out of the storage closet, blasting christmas music, and off he goes.

you love christmas too, so he’s not alone in these endeavors, but he’s definitely the type to find matching stockings, having them personalized and embroidered. he’s buying an ornament from every city he goes to with you, and even when he’s on a roadie and he finds one from some landmark the two of you don’t have an ornament from.

and if the two of you have pets? they’re getting their own everything. their own stockings, their own ornaments on the tree, their own pictures with santa on the mantle, their own matching pajamas. because let’s be honest, nico would totally wear matching christmas pajamas with you and love it.

but your tree? none of that white lite, modern, ‘clean’ type of decorating. he wants it tacky and colorful and loud and in your face. mistletoe hanging from every doorway, so he can have an excuse to kiss you in every room. your kitchen is full of cliche gingerbread decorations.

but the tree is nico’s main focus. you wait to decorate it with him until he has time and is gonna be home. you make nico’s family recipe hot chocolate, blast nat king cole, and get to decorating. the whole time the two of you are reminiscing on each trip each ornament came from, talking about where you want to go next. you both have childhood ornaments you always put on the tree too, sharing the memories with each other. he hangs the ornaments high on the tree, while you hang them on the lower branches.

his favorite part is putting the star on top. a few christmases ago, you had a custom devils tree topper made as a joke, but nico refuses to put any other star on top of the tree. he claims it adds just the right amount of tackiness to the already tacky tree.

after the tree is decorated and perfected, the two of you turn off all the lights and close all the blinds, basking in the light of your favorite season. you’ll continue to sip on your hot chocolate and cuddle on the couch, falling asleep there, waking up in the morning to christmas tree shaped pancakes and more of katjas special hot chocolate.

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01delilah · 17 days ago

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Celebrating Christmas with the Mercs!

Merry Christmas and happy holidays everyone! I hope everybody has a safe and fun day with friends and family <3

Just a bunch of headcanons of how I think each Merc would celebrate Christmas, and some of the gifts they would get you Warnings: Alcohol, setting stuff on fire, blowing stuff up, general holiday chaos

Scout

Wakes up at 5 am, and runs downstairs only to find literally nobody awake so he sits and waits

Accidentally ends up waking everybody up in the process

But he does make everybody on the team a present!

Wraps them poorly in printer paper, or some of Engie’s thrown away blueprints

He hands you the present he got you, with is in a cardboard box and wrapped with blue paper and tons of clear tape

Prefers to make you something but will buy you something as well

Such as a duct tape wallet, a drawing, or some music cds he found at the thrift store he’d think you’d like!

Uses this as an opportunity to give Miss Pauling a gift, only for her to be working :(

Give him baseballs or something Tom jones related and he will be crying from happiness <3

Pyro

Is the one who got the Christmas tree

Probably came to work one day with their fire axe in one hand, and tree in the other

Decorates the tree with lights and colorful ornaments that they made themself!

Adding onto Scouts arts and crafts, Pyro will definitely make their own as well!

Might accidentally burn the tree down

Super excited to give everybody their presents!!

You gifted them a pink sparkly lighter, and after opening it, they ran and hugged you so hard off the ground you couldn’t breathe

keeps their suit on but throws the cutest ugly sweater over it!

Will match sweaters with you too!!

Makes the BEST hot chocolate hands down

Soldier

“THIS TREE IS NOT AMERICAN ENOUGH!”

Everything he hangs is all American flag themed. Also wakes up wearing his American flag pajamas in the morning

You can tell exactly what was wrapped by him, because the paper is the American flag.

Has tried to hang up ears as ornaments, but Spy took them down.

If you are wearing green instead of red he will yell at you for disrespecting the American spirit (he doesn’t no or care that green is a Christmas color)

Gifts you literally the best clothes, weapons and gear, except it’s all american flag themed so just be okay with that

Demoman

“MERRY CHRISTMAS LADS!”

The best person here to celebrate with hands down.

Greats everybody with a ‘Merry Christmas’ when he sees them in the halls or somewhere in the base

You decided to get him a nice sweater, and another bottle of scrumpy for his present

Obviously he can tell that its a bottle, since you wrapped it in wrapping paper

Accidently blows furniture up after partying too hard

Also will put on holiday music, before Scout hijacks the vinyl and it’s forced to be turned off because his music taste is garbage.

Sniper

He’s already awake way before Sis, and waits until half of the mercs are up before going to the base to celebrate Christmas

He can’t fit an entire tree in his camper, but he has a very very small baby pine tree that he found while hunting. He put it in a little dirt pot and has it next to his window.

Doesn’t really expect presents on Christmas, so he doesn’t go out of his way to get into the holiday spirit that much.

Get him a present and he will be so stunned, it seems like he doesn’t like the gift (he really does!! He’s just shocked somebody actually put thought and effort into it)

Prefers things that are handmade and one of a kind

All though he isn’t partying, he will sit on the couch by the fire and just listen to everyone talk

Medic

Obviously there are mercs that medic likes better than the others

And I think this means the more he likes you, the even more insane of a gift he’ll get you

He hands you a plain white box, and you open the cardboard lid to see one of his doves.

Before it starts flying around the room and getting stuck in the tree

“I heard jou speak about wanting a pet, so you can have Archimedes' brother!”

Sleeps in really comfy pajamas, that are red and patterned in snowflakes

If you mention that you like them, he’ll definitely get you a matching pair and you can join him and heavy twinning :)

Heavy

Has a traditional way of celebrating

Sends letters and postcards to his family

On base though, he will help make things feel like a holiday, and make everyone feel like family (since he does see his teammates as family!)

Gifts everyone scarfs, gloves, and mittens for everybody to keep warm during winter and the nights

The scarfs he gets are soooo warm and comfy that medic wears his 24/7

If you’re into reading, he will get you either some Russian stories that were translated into English, or ones that he translated himself.

Overall literally the best person to spend any holiday with <3

Engineer

Makes the star for the top of the tree, and the lights for the tree all by scratch

Will also bake with pyro! The kitchen in the base will smell so good of cake, cookies, and banana bread

On Christmas Eve, pyro and him go and place a plate of cookies and milk on a table next to the tree for Santa

Seeing Pyros excitement when the plate was just crumbs made his entire day

Gifts you a custom little gadget he made himself

If you want to join him bake and cook he’ll be super happy

This is probably the one day that he’s not inside his workshop, and he’s spending time with everybody as much as he can

Spy

The most reserved out of all the mercs

Comes down to wish everybody happy holidays, before cloaking and disappearing off to whatever he usually does.

When things calm down, and people like Scout and Pyro aren’t bouncing off the walls, he’ll grab a glass of wine and join the rest of the mercs on the couch

Miss Pauling

She’s working unfortunately :(

Comes by later at night, and celebrates and drinks with everybody.

Although she has no interest in Scout, she picked up a couple of Tom Jones CDs to make him happy.

When I mean comes by, she’s there for like 10 minutes, drinks an entire bottle of wine, and then goes back to work.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #scout x reader #pyro x reader #medic x reader #tf2 mercs #engineer x reader #spy x reader #heavy x reader #sniper x reader #Christmas #self insert #demoman x reader #miss pauling x reader

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mochegato · 15 days ago

Text

Mistletoe Mayhem

“Explain it to me again,” Jon prompted as he trailed behind Damian.

Damian’s lips pursed like he was trying to hold back from exploding. “We are here to assis…”

“Yeah, yeah. I heard that. But why are we here?” he asked. “This seems like something one of the big guys would want to be involved in.”

Damian scoffed and shoved his hands further into his pockets. The Parisian winter, which had just started brushing the ground with a light dusting of flurries, nipping at his bare fingers. “We are more than sufficient to assist in ending their rogue. We do not need others interfering.”

“They are facing an emotion based rogue. Can you imagine Green Arrow or my father coming here. It would be like handing the rogue a nuclear weapon. The local team has been doing an admirable job thus far, but such an opponent would be disastrous.”

“Right,” Jon drawled. “But you wouldn’t have that issue.”

“Naturally,” he scoffed.

“Naturally,” Jon repeated in a mocking tone. “But neither would Dick. So tell me again, why us?”

Damian growled and yanked out his phone, checking it for a moment before glancing around them suspiciously then turning into an alley. “Because I have a relationship with the local hero team leader.”

Jon’s eyebrows shot up. “Relationship?”

“I have consulted with the leader several times. Built up a… trust,” he finished with what would have sounded like certainty if Jon didn’t know Damian so well.

He eyed Damian suspiciously. “Define several times.”

“More than a few,” he growled back. He looked around again before glowering at Jon. “Now, let’s get to the roof.”

Damian climbed up to the roof with little effort, followed quickly by Jon who was barely using any powers to keep up. As soon as they settled, Jon smiled at the festively decorated little patio. There were lights hung around the sides and wrapped around the railing, ornaments hanging all around, and even a small tree, lit up and decorated brightly enough that people on the street would be able to see it.

“Damian!”

Jon looked on in muted horror as an unfamiliar woman launched herself through a door in the roof and at Damian. He moved to intercede diplomatically without using any powers. It was a fairly familiar movement, she was hardly the first person to think they could get close to Damian with false bravado and cheer, clearly broadcasting how utterly unfamiliar they were with Damian. Damian did not cozy… unless it was with a pet.

But Damian’s compliant expression and prepared stance froze Jon in his movement. Damian wasn’t bracing against an attack; he was bracing for a familiar weight. If Jon didn’t know better, he’d even think there was even a bit of excitement in his eyes, which was just about unheard of.

Moments later, Jon was convinced that’s exactly what it was when more shockingly still, she threw her arms around his neck in a tight embrace that he reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her waist! Damian was touching her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. Damian had warned him there was magic in Paris, and it must be true because that was the only excuse he could think of to explain the sight in front of him.

The woman pulled back with a bright smile and shining eyes locked on Damian while his arms lingered at her waist for a few moments before snapping back to his side. “It's good to see you again! Welcome to Paris.”

“I’ve been before,” Damian corrected instantly. Jon winced at his blunt statement and opened his mouth to soften the blow, but Damian continued before he could. “But it is good to be back… and with you again,” he finished with what could almost be described as a small smile.

The woman beamed back, completely unaffected by the brusque tone. “Welcome back then.” She kept eye contact for a few moments, her cheeks growing steadily redder, before turning to Jon expectantly.

Damian’s body language instantly stiffened as if just remembering Jon was there as well. “And this is my… associate, Jonathan Kent. Jon, this is Marinette Dupain Cheng.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Marinette,” Jon chirped, eagerly offering his hand.

“It’s nice to meet a friend of Damian’s,” she giggled.

Jon cocked his head to the side, his eyes sliding between Damian and Marinette suspiciously. “How did you know I was his friend?”

Damian harumhed and crossed his arms in annoyance but Marinette smirked, a teasing twinkle in her eyes. “He said associate without disgust. You must be a really good friend.”

“His best,” Jon confirmed.

“You are most assuredly not,” Damian scoffed.

“Well, it’s nice to meet his best friend,” she nodded in mock solemnity.

“I am talking. And at a volume you definitely can both hear, especially you,” he hissed with a not too gentle shove at Jon’s shoulder as he stepped between him and Marinette.

“We’re aware,” Jon grinned.

Marinette’s smirk eased into a warm, amused smile, her focus back on Damian. “Thank you again for agreeing to help. We could really use the assistance.”

“You have been doing an admirable job so far,” he stated, causing Jon to whip his head toward him at his words. That! That was the strangest, most conclusive evidence of magic he’d seen so far. Compliments were typically hard fought from Damian, most of his team had never received more than a ‘not terrible’, and she had just stepped into a positive observation with ease.

“Thank you,” she blushed. “But I can admit we are surviving not succeeding.” She gook a deep breath and glanced over to Jon with a small smile and nod. “Have you gotten the rundown?”

His expression instantly transformed, all mirth evaporating and getting replaced by a serious set to his lips. “Magic villain. Infects others to do his dirty work based on negative emotions. The team of local, also magic, heroes have containment covered but are having issues tracking him. That’s where I come in. Listen for any suspicious conversations and search for hidden lairs. If I discover either, track them down and see if anyone with a mask is hanging around.”

She nodded along with the excessively pared down analysis. “Any maniacal laughter or monologuing, get on it,” she ordered lightly, but her voice hardened as she continued. “I don’t know how the lair thing is going to work though. This is Paris. There are more deep, dark, hidden crypts and bunkers than even the people living above them know about. Maybe focus on listening for any fluttering instead. There shouldn’t be any butterflies or too many bugs this time of year except for the akuma. I don’t know if they actually make noise you can detect though. Magic and all…”

She looked down, her brow furrowed in consideration for a moment before she seemed to remember they were there. She shot Jon a strained smile. “Sorry. It would be the best Christmas present ever though. I wouldn’t be able to thank you enough.” She turned to Damian with a warmer smile and squeezed one of his hands. “Or you, for arranging all of this for us.”

“We will help end this.” She smiled even wider when he squeezed her hand back. It almost looked like he was going to take a step closer to solidify his declaration, but the motion was stopped by a sudden ringing and an indignant screech from the street below.

They leaned over the railing in time to see a woman trying to run and dodge away from a sprig of mistletoe with ringing bells that got progressively louder the further she ran, and a man who looked utterly lost, getting dragged behind her as if he was being pulled by an invisible rope. If anything, his legs were trying to peddle backward, but it had no effect on his trajectory, instead, they were slipping and sliding on the slick ground.

Down the street, a gigantic figure that appeared to be some combination of Cupid and Santa who had gotten mauled by Swamp Thing leapt with ease onto a distant building’s roof. “I am Mistletoe Mayhem,” he declared. His voice thundered throughout Paris. “I will make it so nobody can be rejected and laughed at. Everybody will be with whoever they want to be with.”

“Well, that’s incredibly problematic,” Marinette muttered. She sighed and massaged her forehead. “It appears you’re going to get your chance sooner than expected. Come on, let’s go into my room and I can transform. I’ll head out and you guys can change after I leave.”

A flash of light and two stunned foreign heroes later, she was on a distant roof assessing Mistletoe Mayhem. “Well, at least it seems pretty straight forward,” Chat commented landing next to her. “It’s like a Christmas present to us. Santa remembered us,” he swooned dramatically.

Ladybug snorted but nodded in agreement then nodded to Rena Rouge and Carapace as they also joined them. “And doesn’t appear to be too violent, though forcing people to kiss someone else against their will like this kind of is assault.”

“Not kind of,” Carapace scoffed.

“Ah, yeah, not cute and quirky at all,” Chat nodded. “I can see that.”

“And Pegasus had a theory on the object,” Rena interjected.

“Pegasus is here too?” Chat asked, head whipping around, but freezing at seeing two figures emerge from the shadows. “Is that Superboy? Superboy is here?” He froze. “Wait… is having a superpowered hero here good or bad?”

“Yes,” Carapace nodded sagely but eyed the two foreign heroes warily.

“Oh my God,” Rena squealed. “I have to…”

“Hopefully good,” Ladybug interrupted before she could get carried away with the interview she knew Rena was dying to do. “Superboy, this is Chat Noir, Carapace, and Rena Rouge. Robin, you’ve met Chat, of course, and this is Carapace and Rena. They’re here to help track down Hawk Moth while we’re fighting the akuma.”

“Awesome, dudette,” Carapace nodded. “Welcome, dudes. Let me know if you need help doing your thing.”

“Thanks,” Superboy smiled. “We’ll let you know.”

“We will complete our task. You need to focus on your task,” Robin commanded. “Splitting your attention can cause harm to your teammates.”

Carapace raised an eyebrow and met Chat’s gaze. “Right,” Chat drawled. He turned his attention fully to Robin. “So…”

“Look out!” Ladybug yelled and dove for Chat. She managed to get to him just in time, knocking him to the ground moments before the beam could hit him, as everyone scattered to safety. They rolled together a few meters and froze, bracing themselves for any indication of the bells that were plaguing so many other Parisians.

When there was no indication of ringing, Ladybug let out a breath and finally opened her eyes to see a hand extended in front of her. She lifted her eyes as she took the proffered hand finally meeting Robin’s gaze… and groaned as bells instantly started ringing above her. “I thought we got away with it,” she grumbled.

“This is why you don’t split your attention,” Robin growled at Chat. “If the akuma was more dangerous she could have been hurt or killed.”

“But he’s not and she wasn’t, and if he had been, I wouldn’t have been,” Chat chuckled. “And at least we know how to make them stop. You just have to…”

“No,” Robin interrupted.

Ladybug quirked her lips to the side in thought. Surely it didn’t have to be on the lips… did it? It’s still a kiss when her Maman would kiss her cheek or her Papa would kiss her forehead. They could… do that, right? Even if she wanted to do more, it wasn’t fair to force him. “We could try…”

“Absolutely not,” he stated definitively. “That is not an acceptable option.”

Marinette blinked at him. She didn’t exactly want to be forced to kiss in front of everyone either, but he spit it out like the very idea of kissing her disgusted him. She’d thought they were building toward something, that there was a fondness, sometimes she even thought it was more like affection, a restrained flirting. But she had clearly misinterpreted his actions. It wasn’t that he kept his emotions close to his chest, opening up to her occasionally. He just wasn’t interested.

“Right,” she nodded curtly and took a step away from him. The bells rang louder, but she would rather deal with the clatter than make Damian uncomfortable. “Well then, we will have to plan to stick close together.” She glowered at the bells loudly ringing. “Maybe that will either blend in with the rest or we can use it to our advantage later, assuming Chat doesn’t get hit.”

“As I was saying before,” Rena popped in with Carapace on her heels, “Pegasus had an idea what the object might be, which is why we came out.”

“Without knowing who it is?” Chat asked.

“Without knowing who it is,” she confirmed. “If you look at his costume, it’s covered in Mistletoe, right?” The group, except for Robin and Carapace nodded like it was a given. “But that’s not mistletoe. The berries on all those are red.”

“Well, yeah, Mistletoe berries are red, aren’t they?” Superboy asked, uncertain for the first time about something he’d been confident in for his entire life. “I see them everywhere.”

“Apparently not. Red just sells better on decorations. The berries are actually white,” Rena grinned. “And if you look carefully, the sprig of mistletoe at the center of his chest is the only one with white berries.”

Ladybug rose up to look over the edge of the roof they were hiding behind, her eyes narrowed as she studied the akuma. Robin joined her, positioning himself so he was brushing against her despite having plenty of room around them, a fact Chat proved by popping up next to them a few moments later with a good distance between him and Robin. “See it?”

“Yes,” Ladybug and Robin answered at the same time.

“Perfect,” Chat cheered. “What’s the plan?”

Ladybug turned away as she planned while Robin kept his eyes toward the akuma. It only took a few seconds before her scrunched expression smoothed out into a bright smile. “Superboy, you start searching. We need you focused entirely on that.” He looked between her and Robin, a smirk growing on his lips. Robin always thought he knew best and wanted to lead, even when he was teamed with older heroes, so to see him accept Ladybug’s lead with no pushback was, yet more proof magic existed, and she was the embodiment of it. He saluted Ladybug and flew off.

“Chat, you’ll use your clowning to our advantage. You can distract like nobody else.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded and spun his staff. “Always happy to be the center of attention.”

Carapace scoffed, but immediately snapped to attention when Ladybug turned her focus to him. “Carapace, can you create a barrier around the device he’s using to shoot out the mistletoe so he can’t get anyone else?”

Carapace looked down at his shell analytically for a few seconds before slowly nodding. “I think I can.”

“You think…” Robin hissed, finally breaking his focus on the horizon to glare at Carapace.

“I do,” Carapace nodded and met Robin’s glare with a smirk. “You’re not the first to ask. Several teachers have asked the same thing. Also, don’t split your attention.” He nodded toward the akuma with a smirk. “Dangerous to do that.”

Robin growled and took a step toward him but Ladybug’s hand brushing against his chest stopped him instantly. “Robin and I will grab the item.” She shot Robin a look to gauge his agreement. She needed him completely in agreement on this. They were going to have to work in sync despite never having worked together before. He didn’t meet her eyes, having returned his gaze to their surroundings, but he gave a curt head bob. “Okay, Chat, Rena, you know what to do. Robin, you ready?”

It took only a few minutes for everyone to be in position and Rena’s flute to whistle, or at least Ladybug assumed it whistled, she couldn’t quite hear much above the bells. With a breath and a nod to Robin, Ladybug made her approach. She jumped toward the akuma. “To the left,” she announced loudly.

Robin reacted a step behind her jumping to the opposite side to balance her, still within the distance they’d been allowed by the akuma’s curse, but midjump he was suddenly yanked to the left and into the akuma’s shoulder. He moved quickly to avoid the akuma’s blind swing. At the same moment, Ladybug was yanked back toward him just enough to put her within the akuma’s reach. His wild movement caught her hard enough to send her flying several streets away. Robin prepared himself for the pull just in time as he arced through the air after her and landed incredibly elegantly considering the circumstances.

He rushed over to Ladybug, who had crashed into a wall significantly less elegantly, leaving a very distinct and deep impression in the bricks. “Are you okay?” he asked, though it came out closer to a scream in order to be heard over the bells. His eyes scanned her body, giving her head special attention.

“Yeah,” Ladybug grumbled. “Magic suit and all.” She took a breath and brushed the rubble off her body. She tried to ignore the shock of electricity that shot through her when Robin joined her, brushing his nimble fingers against her shoulders and hair. “What happened?”

He huffed before answering. His hands clenched as he pulled them from his work helping her. “When I work with a partner, usually, we go in opposite directions so we don’t give our opponent an easy target.”

“But we can’t get too far apart,” she answered back louder and perhaps harsher than she meant to, but it was frustrating not only to be in the situation but to be heard over the bells.

“I didn’t anticipate the curse shrinking the allowed distance. I will anticipate next time,” he groused, barely loud enough to be heard, but the hard set of his expression was impossible to miss.

“I need you to stay with me. We need to move as one,” she yelled.

“That is unrealistic,” he yelled back. “It takes years to be able to anticipate each other’s movements like that.”

Ladybug sighed and looked down, eyes squeezed shut in thought. He wasn’t exactly wrong. The kind of anticipation they would need to move as one, considering the erratically shrinking distance, took experience. She and Chat had learned to move in sync pretty quickly, but they were literally chosen because they were perfect compliments, and regardless it still took them a few battles to move together.

But if she and Robin couldn’t work in tandem, there was no way they could succeed. They would have to switch their task with someone else. The problem was everyone was already where they worked best, except them. So, the team was going to have to take less optimal roles to fill in the gaps. And at this point, the bells were ringing so loud she could barely hear her own thoughts, let alone what anyone was saying to her, so maybe it was best if they sat it out.

“If you… we,” she corrected quickly, “want to avoid the kiss…” she turned away from him pretending not to notice the way his head snapped toward her at her statement, “then we…”

“We should do it,” he barked.

She blinked at him. “The kiss?” she asked uncertainly.

He nodded, his eyes still searing into her like he was searching for something. “We don’t have to if you want to avoid it, but we cannot contribute ideally like this.”

She nodded. He was right. She just wished it wasn’t so thoroughly against his will. “Okay,” she said quietly, definitely not loudly enough to be heard, but he clearly understood.

He stepped up to her carefully keeping his body from actually touching her. He searched her face for a moment before closing his eyes and slowly dipping down to brush his lips gently against hers. It was barely enough to feel, but it caused a flush that spread throughout her entire body.

It took a beat before she opened her eyes and instantly frowned realizing the bells were still ringing. Robin was already glaring at them when she lifted her eyes to analyze them, like there might be some instructions written on them somewhere. “Maybe we need to…” she started, but Robin was ahead of her.

He wound one hand in her hair and the other around her waist, pulling her against him. She rose up at the same time to crash her lips against his, this time more heated. His hand in her hair tightened and pulled just enough to angle her head differently allowing him to deepen the kiss.

She let out a quiet whimper that seemed to break something in him. He released her hair and instead wrapped it around her lower back to pull her closer as he turned them so he could press her against the brick wall. She wound her arms around his shoulders and arced into him to get as close as possible, seeking some kind of relief from the tingling rush throughout her body, or maybe seeking more.

After an entirely too short amount of time, Robin pulled away just enough to breathe, eyes still closed and breath still coming out in heavy pants. It took Ladybug a few seconds before she found the resolve to lift her eyes to his face and a few more for him to open his eyes. “We should…” she started, voice nothing more than a whisper.

He hummed in agreement but didn’t move, not to release her or look away, until a peel of maniacal laughter sounded throughout the city. A heavy, regretful sigh passed his lips and finally let his hands drop.

“I can stand guard while you get the mistletoe,” he said breathlessly. “Backup for you.”

Ladybug nodded mindlessly for a few seconds before her brain caught up with what he had said. “Yeah. That’s…” She cleared her throat and took a small step back, allowing the distance to help clear her head. “That sounds good. I’ll um…” she pulled out her yoyo and lifted it up for him to see, “I’ll let the team know.”

With their new freedom, the team was able to take down the akuma in a matter of seconds and after talking to the victim, returned to the roof to recoup, minus a still missing Superboy. “Great job, guys. Sorry for our mess up.” Ladybug smiled sheepishly at them.

“Nah, dudette,” Carapace shrugged. “That was a crazy challenge you had. Fun for us to watch, though.”

“I want the full story later,” Rena whispered into Ladybug’s ear with a devilish grin. Ladybug flushed as red as her suit but nodded before shoving her away. Rena winked at Robin then grabbed Carapace’s hand and bounced away.

“Right, well I need to finish getting ready for the party tonight. Going to go take down the mistletoe though. It doesn’t sound so appealing anymore,” Chat grumbled. “You’re welcome to come too,” he offered to Robin. “And Superboy too, if he wants.” He saluted to them and jumped in the opposite direction leaving Ladybug alone with Robin.

Ladybug watched him leave for a few seconds before allowing her eyes to dart toward Robin. “Why don’t we go back to my place, and we can change?”

He nodded and followed after her, silent for the entire trip, even dropping through the door in her ceiling without a word. She transformed back to Marinette, which seemed to take some of her bravado with it. She rocked on her heels waiting for him to break the silence. When he didn’t after a few seconds, she couldn’t take the silence any longer, which she acknowledged was pretty ironic considering how desperately she’d been hoping for silence just an hour earlier. “So… the kiss,” she prompted.

He huffed but didn’t respond verbally other than that, preferring to scowl at the ground and cross his arms over his chest like a shield. Ladybug let out a sad sigh. Her heart fractured at his sound. It was definitively the best kiss she’d ever had, but clearly, it hadn’t had the same effect on him. “I’m sorry,” she offered sincerely. “I know…”

“No, you don’t,” Robin stopped her. He took a breath and removed his mask so he could meet her eyes with nothing between them. “I didn’t want the… first,” the word came out a combination of tortured and hopeful. His eyes darted away but she recognized the tension in his frame. It was the same tension she often held, though he wore it a bit more elegantly than she did. It was an anxious tension rather than a disgusted tension. “…time we kissed to not be our choice.”

“First?” she uttered, eyes blown wide in shock.

“You said it was assault,” he continued. “I don’t want to make you feel like that. I didn’t want you to kiss me because you had to. I wanted it to be because you wanted to, but…”

“I did,” she burst out. His eyes whipped to hers, hope swimming in them. “I just wasn’t sure if you… wanted… to,” she finished anxiously.

His lips curled up into a soft smile. He crossed the room in two quick strides, hands already reaching to cup her face before he even took his first step. “And you still do?” he asked, voice searching.

She smiled brightly back up at him. “I do. Very much so. For a while now.”

He grinned back and kissed her again, just because they wanted to. His lips met hers, gentle but firm, confident in the presence of more in the future.

Marinette slid her hands up his arms and squeezed his. She broke the kiss unintentionally with her brimming smile. “Do you want to go with me to Chat’s party tonight?”

His eyes hardened just a little, just enough to signal a shift in mood. “Are you okay with me knowing his identity? And from the sounds of it, the rest of your team hang out together so they will likely be there as well.”

Marinette shrugged. “They seem okay with it, and I’ve already trusted you with mine. And I want you to meet my friends. But if you don’t…”

“I do,” he assured her. “I just want to make sure you are sure.” He settled a tender kiss on her lips to confirm his statement. He pulled away with a playful look. “Do you think we can convince Chat to leave some mistletoe out? Just for us? All night?”

She hummed in approval and nestled into his arms. “Probably. And if not, we can buy some for ourselves.”

#maribat #damianette #Christmas #fluff

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scorpiusmalfoylovesoscarwilde · 6 months ago

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it's one of my favourite personal headcanons that Scorpius has a grey fluffy pet cat with a clipped ear and three legs that he found abandoned as a kid and was like, yep mine, and bonded over this unwanted creature cause hes like omg people dont like me very much either!! and this cat is intelligent and loyal as hell and hisses at people he doesn't think are good for Scorpius lmao

Scorpius is general has a habit of of collecting unwanted and perhaps damaged things. he has loads of creepy and broken ornaments all over his room. but I do not only mean inanimate objects, pets and people (*cough* albus *cough*) also apply

he collects them all because he can relate to them, and because he knows he can love them

#the cat scratches the fuck outta lucius whenever he was around #when als around he immeidately starts purring and jumps on his lap 🙏🏻#i also have a little scene headcanon where scorpius is in some kind of trouble and has been cornered by bullies or smin and the cat goes to #find albus and just starts cat-screaming at him until he follows and al thinks he might be going a little bit insane running after scorps #cat all over the castle but then he leads al to where scorpius is <3 #i also headcanon that al finds ugly freaky trinkets to give his boyfriend and will show them to james and be like what do you think?#and james will be like 😟😟 thats the ugliest fucking thing to exist why did anyone make that??#and als like great perfect #scorpius loves it and james is confused as hell #scorpius malfoy #albus potter #scorbus #hpcc

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double-dare-designs · 1 year ago

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Pet Ornament

Memorial

First Christmas

Best Buddy

https://www.zazzle.com/z/otoqstju?rf=238828267405258083

#pet ornament #pet memorial #first christmas #best buddy #pet photo #stylish #trendy #zazzle made #personalize #lioness designs #Christmas tree ornaments #pets #dogs #cats #Christmas

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ihavenoideawhatiamdoingjustgay2 · 18 days ago

Text

On the first day of Christmas

Genre : Fluff

Summary : Arlecchino and you celebrating Christmas.

Notes : Arlecchino x reader, Christmas fluff, domestic fluff, fluff, yeah lots of fluff, I published this on AO3 while I church, I had this idea only yesterday so sorry for any mistakes, will probably come back and edit later

Chapter 1 > Chapter 2 > Chapter 3

Take me to AO3

You wiped the window clean, looking at your reflection, before focusing your eyes upon the decorations outside, the shining ligths, the carriages that were driven.

You had expected nothing less from the country of snow and ice.

You sighed, turning your ring around your finger, a small red X was engraved on it. Your Husband had a matching one. Your husband who sneaked up on your side with a hand on your waist. You smiled, watching as your wolf hid in the crock of your neck.

"Hello there."

She muffled something into your neck.

"Yeah, probably, the children must be waiting for us."

She kissed it, before standing up straigth and watching the scene outside pass by.

"Looking at the ligths, love?"

"Of course, I simply can't help it." You shrug.

"Ever the sentimentalist. That's a weakness, you know?" She gave you a quick peck on the cheek, before moving towards the closet. You meanwhile were busy watching a set of coralers knock on the neighbors door, it did not take long untill their door was opened and a few coins landed inside a hat. Faint singing reached your ears, or maybe it was just imagination, like the dream like clouds that surrounded them. Like the green and red ribbons that were hanging everywhere.

"Well, you're the only one who knows it, so, unless you wish to use it against me."

"Perhabs I will." she held your coat out and you took the offer, slipping your arms inside it. You adjusted it a bit as Arlecchino buttoned it up and you helped her in turn.

"What a cruel husband you are~" you coed, but only earned a "Tch" and eyeroll from her side. She still needed to get used to your antics. Even after all those years.

Arlecchino led you down, towards the big wooden doors, to the decorative pine tree that stood rigth next to the door. You looked it up and down, it was lazy compared to the one in the orphanage that stood uprigth and proud with self made little Christmas tree balls and other ornaments. You stared upon one of them, a dull face greeted you as Arlecchino talked to one of the servants. You wouldn't be really home for the next day, only for sleep, and she'd be gone for the half of the third day. You leaned upon her shoulder, nitpicking some fluff from her coat. You barely noticed the click of the door opening, would gave ignored it completely if it wasn't for the fristy cold that hit your face.

"Can't we take a carriage?" You pouted, clinging onto her.

"It is faster when we walk."

You continued pouting.

"I will keep you warm." She promised and you already felt her warm hand through the thick of your coat. You melted onto her, resting in the warmth of her body.

"How lucky am I, to have my own personal furnace."

She chuckled. "Odd choice for a pet name, but I suppose it's better than just calling me an icicle."

You shrugged, listening to how horses and carriages made their way through the salted streets, listening to the far laughs of drunks, the smell of mulled whine.

"Can we make a small stop at the Christmas market?"

She grumbled.

"I just want to fill my pockets with sweets for the children."

"I don't know." She said, pushing you two to your rigth as muddy water was about to be sprayed onto you, but she took most of it. The driver stopped and decided to make a spectacel out of it. Arlecchino stared at him as if he was an insect, but waved him off. She continued your path, stopping in front of the market.

"I love you, you know that?"

She smiled at your small confession. "Of course, I love you too."

Her love for you was an open secret.

Oh look, oh everyone look,

The Knave has found her spouse,

And oh how much she loves them.

That's what they'd whisper.

You pecked her cheek, leading her into the Christmas market. She was frowning about it, but she had no choice but to follow you.

"I will admit, the cover is great, considering all the people, and we are most likely not the only important ones here." She started while you stopped at a stand, buying a few of the sweets and stuffing them carefully inside your pockets.

"Exactly." You took her arm back, having her lead you through the market, pulling you away from any distractions.

"Don't you think that hat would be great on Louis?"

"He already has a Christmas gift." she'd say and you'd sigh.

You sighed even louder when the two of you left the market and with it all of the eliciting smells and attractive prices. "The world is unfair."

"You act like a child sometimes." she commented, rubbing your side. You sighed again.

"Is that the only thing I will get from you for now?"

You shrugged.

"My impossible spouse." she'd mumble, but there was no real bite, no destain in her voice.

"Your impossible spouse." You agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cold was replaced by a warm feeling that enveloped you, seeping into your bones, deep under the fur of your coat that you were taking off. The door clicked behind you and Arlechino pulled the sleeves of your arms, hanging it onto a clothing rack together with hers.

The big ligth wasn't on, instead there were candles scattered all over the place.

"Your courtesy?" You ask with a grin, interlocking your arms.

"No. I wouldn't create a firehazard."

You snickered, looking around, finding...no one. "It's so empty..."

"And silence." There was alert in your husband's voice as she dragged you to the huge door marking the living room, you meanwhile listened to hushed voices and stopped her, listening in closer, as it all fell silent, it made you grin.

"What is it?"

"It appears the children have a suprise for us."

She crocked a brow and your grin widened, which made her role her eyes to then push the large door open. You recognizes the Christmas tree touching the ceiling, the warm fairy ligths spun around it intricately, the cookie ornaments. It made your heart swell up. And then you saw the children's choir in front of the fireplace. You leaned upon your husband's shoulder, listening as they sung.

"Have they done this before?" You whispered, not being able to tear your eyes away from them, your ears away from their voices.

Arlecchino leaned down. "Once, a few years back, you were back in Fontaine, remember?"

You hummed, before nodding.

"I'm honestly impressed they were able to set it up withouth us noticing." She mumbled and you could her her knitted brows and pinched eyes. She was impressed, probably trying to figure out how they did it. Your eyes grazed over them, admiring untill they stood still like stone pillars, awaiting judgment. You looked at Arlecchino. "We are impressed, aren't we Arle?"

She nodded, her eyes lingering on you for a second before swooping towards the children. "Indeed we are."

They smiled, chattering, congratulating, or running towards you for a hug.

Arlecchino had it run its course before clapping her hands. Everyone's eyes were on her, she who was standing in front of the tree, the glow surrounding her, the image made you blush and tuck your hair back.

"Since you have already eaten, how about opening the presents?"

You saw the glimmer in their eyes, heared their cheers, before they huried towards the tree and stood in a line to get their handed by Arlecchino, or you. This would certainly be an evening.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat on the sofa, food on your rigth and husband to your left with children playing before your feet, showing of their games, sorting through clothes, polishing new weapons.

"Are you sure that a new set of knives was a great idea for El?"

"Of course. She's quite handy with them and obviously happy."

You nodded, slowly, watching her sort through them with a content smile on her face. "You are rigth." Her hand stroked your waist and she kissed your cheek, you leaned into her. Everything went well, for today atleast.

"Now it's work Chrismas tommorow and then...only us."

You kissed her cheek. "I can't wait for it."

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