#the top right one looks like a nights gingerbread cookie

[heartz4levi]

hiiii…. Hyuna girlfriend fluff…. to help cope…. please

i want a love like i've seen in the movies !

☆ thinking abt winters w hyuna . . .

☆ hyuna (alnst) ,, gn reader . . it isn't outwardly mentioned but hyuna and reader are in an established relationship ,, winter is nearly over so here's a winter—themed piece before spring comes ,, general fluffy & domestic scenarios about what winters spent with your girlfriend, hyuna, are like.

from the very moment you tuck yourself into bed to when you decide to finally get out of bed in the morning, hyuna is sticking next to you like a leech.

winters, as many know, tend to be cold. even if it's warm inside the house, hyuna will still cling to you while both of you sleep to make sure that she will provide you with warmth throughout the whole entire night in case you need it. on top of that, she'll ensure that a thick, fluffy blanket is draped over you the entire time you sleep, even if it means she has to sleep without being fully covered by that same blanket.

similarly, when the two of you are out and about, best believe that the exact second hyuna sees you shivering even just a little bit, she will immediately shed off one of her layers and hand it over. you can protest all you want, tell her that she'll get sick and you don't want that to happen to her, but hyuna will insist.

hot chocolate is a winter staple. hyuna will have two mugs of it ready every day, usually bringing it over when the two of you are having breakfast, sometimes maybe later in the evening when you're spending the rest of the night together, basking in eachother's presence. another staple are gingerbread houses, which hyuna will gladly build with you whenever you want to via some frosting that hardly keeps the structure intact.

that, or she'll help bake some cookies, then make better use of the frosting by using it for its intended purpose. she'll create her own winter—y, holiday—esque designs and decorate the cookies with said designs, which will either turn out to look pretty decent or.. very wonky. regardless, hyuna will laugh at your cookies if they look even a little bit off, despite the possibility of hers coming out worse than yours.

when it comes to you, hyuna won't throw snowballs directly at your face and she won't push you into the snow when you're not ready to go outside. but she will chuck a snowball that is small in size at the back of your head so long as it's covered by the hoodie of your coziest winter jacket. if it isn't, hyuna will put your hoodie on for you or hand over anything to put over your head and cover your ears. then she'll throw a snowball your way when you least expect it.

you can throw snowballs, tiny or huge, at her any time you want and she won't get mad, though.

will hyuna build a snowman with you? yes, she will. will she make snow angels with you? yes, she will do that too. when it comes to building snowmen, hyuna will claim the task of turning one small handful of snow into a big, round pile of it for the first part of the snowman's torso, then she will create the remaining parts. meanwhile you get to decorate the snowman — go hunting for sticks and whatever else you want to put on it while she makes its body to save you from freezing your hands off even if you have mittens on.

when it comes to snow angels, she will lay down on the icy snow right next to you and make said snow angels. after the two of you are done, hyuna will pat all of the remaining snow off of your entire backside, her touch careful but firm enough to get all of those extra snowflakes to stop clinging to your clothes.

if you express the desire to go to a winter holiday fair, hyuna will take you there without a second thought. her heart will swell up with joy when she witnesses your reaction to the lights that illuminate the streets which are flooded with endless rows of stalls, each and every one selling something unique. you want a sweet treat that is overpriced just because it's decorated specifically for the winter holidays? no worries, hyuna will buy it for you. anything you want from that fair, hyuna will get it just because you laid your eyes on it.

all in all, hyuna makes every season memorable, winter included. she makes your life with her, as a whole, a memorable one that you will cherish forever.

[realareturns]

Some more fascinating NiGHTS artwork from various issues of Sega Saturn Magazine 🤔 The last two also seem to be made by the same artist who drew the comics found on Japan’s official NiGHTS website

[cailinsblog]

A Sweet Christmas | Lando Norris

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando Norris and his girlfriend, Y/N, spend a cozy Christmas evening baking cookies together. Despite Lando’s playful messes, they laugh and enjoy decorating the cookies. The night is filled with warmth, love, and holiday magic as they relax by the tree and savor their homemade treats.

Masterlist

The snow had started to fall softly outside the windows of Lando Norris' cozy apartment. It was the kind of quiet, peaceful evening that you could only find around Christmas, when everything felt a little bit more magical. Inside, the soft glow of fairy lights twinkled around the living room, and the warm scent of cinnamon and gingerbread had begun to fill the air.

Y/N was standing in front of the kitchen counter, her apron tied around her waist, carefully measuring out flour. She was excited for their Christmas tradition, even if it was something simple—making cookies together. It had become something of a special ritual for the two of them. Lando might spend most of his time on the racetrack, but when it came to Christmas, he was more than happy to trade in fast cars for flour-covered countertops.

Lando, for his part, was currently attempting to "help" by sifting the powdered sugar... a task he had apparently decided was too easy and, therefore, not nearly as fun. Instead, he was playing around, tossing little clouds of sugar up in the air and watching them drift down like snowflakes. Y/N chuckled as one of them landed in his hair.

“Lando!” she laughed, reaching for a paper towel to wipe some sugar off his shoulder. “You’re making a mess!”

He grinned sheepishly, but there was something incredibly endearing about his childlike energy. “Hey, I’m helping! You just don’t understand the art of creating the perfect snowfall effect with powdered sugar,” he teased, flicking a bit more in her direction.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, holding up the flour and gesturing with a teasing smile. “I think you’re just making a bigger mess than we need to clean up later.”

“You can’t rush art,” Lando replied with mock seriousness, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

Y/N shook her head but couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across her face. “Well, while you’re busy perfecting your snowstorm, I’m actually going to start making the dough,” she said, grabbing a bowl and starting to mix the ingredients.

Lando watched her for a moment, a mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned against the counter. “I can do that too, you know. I’m good with my hands. Maybe I’ll make the best dough ever.”

“Oh really?” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You can barely bake a cookie without burning it, let alone make the dough.”

“That was one time!” he protested, holding up a finger. “It was a *very* complicated recipe.”

She smirked, already knowing he was about to get defensive. “Sure, Lando. You’re probably right,” she said dryly, handing him the rolling pin. “But for now, you can roll out the dough, okay?”

Lando nodded like he’d just been given the most important job in the world. He immediately took the rolling pin and started to roll out the dough with exaggerated concentration, as though the fate of the Christmas cookies rested entirely on his shoulders. Y/N could hardly contain her laughter at his antics.

After a few minutes of him dramatically rolling out the dough, he grinned triumphantly. “All done! Now, what’s next?”

Y/N moved in to take a look, inspecting his work. The dough was unevenly rolled, with some parts much thinner than others, but she didn’t mind. It would all taste the same in the end. “Okay, now we can cut out the shapes,” she said, pulling out a set of cookie cutters in the shape of stars, snowflakes, and Christmas trees. “Are you ready to make some Christmas magic?”

“Born ready,” Lando said, positioning himself beside her. “But I’m going to warn you, I’m excellent at decorating cookies. Like, top-tier.”

Y/N laughed. “We’ll see about that. I have a feeling you’re going to end up eating most of the decorations instead of using them.”

They spent the next hour rolling, cutting, and laughing. Y/N couldn’t help but love the way Lando’s enthusiasm was so contagious. Even when he accidentally made a dough explosion or ended up with flour on his face, he just laughed it off, turning every mishap into an inside joke.

When the cookies were finally ready to go into the oven, Y/N turned to him, her smile softening. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun baking before.”

Lando shrugged, his expression warm. “It’s the company, not the cookies, that makes it fun.”

As the cookies baked, they moved into the living room, where the Christmas tree twinkled with lights and the soft hum of holiday music filled the background. Y/N curled up on the couch, and Lando joined her, draping an arm over her shoulders.

They sat in content silence, only the sound of the occasional pop from the fireplace breaking the quiet. The world outside seemed far away as they simply enjoyed the moment—together, cozy, and happy. It wasn’t the holiday shopping or the big celebrations that made Christmas special; it was these simple, quiet moments.

Eventually, the timer went off, and they both jumped up, rushing back to the kitchen to check on their cookies. The smell was heavenly—spiced with cinnamon, ginger, and sugar. Lando opened the oven door and pulled out the tray with exaggerated care, pretending like he was handling fragile treasure.

After a few minutes of cooling, it was time for the best part: decorating. Y/N set out icing, sprinkles, and little edible pearls, and Lando was immediately at it, piping colorful swirls of icing onto the cookies with absolute concentration.

“You really are good at this,” Y/N said, genuinely impressed as he carefully outlined the snowflakes.

“I told you,” Lando grinned. “I’m a natural.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop smiling as she began decorating her own cookies. They worked together in harmony, sometimes making faces at each other over their icing, sometimes getting into little “cookie decorating contests” to see who could make the prettiest designs. Of course, most of the cookies ended up a little lopsided, but that was part of the charm. Every one was unique and full of love.

When they were finally finished, they stepped back to admire their work. The plate of cookies before them was a sweet, colorful mess of imperfect but delicious-looking treats.

“Well, we definitely won’t be winning any decorating contests,” Y/N said with a laugh, “but I think we’ve created some Christmas magic.”

“Agreed,” Lando said, looking at the plate with a satisfied grin. “They look like something straight out of a holiday movie… except maybe with a little more personality.”

They shared a laugh before grabbing the first cookie from the plate and taking a bite. The warm, sugary taste was perfect, and they both sighed contentedly.

“I think we’ve made some of the best Christmas cookies ever,” Y/N said, looking at him with soft eyes.

Lando smiled, his expression tender. “Yeah, I think we have too.”

They shared a quiet moment, just enjoying each other's company and the happiness of the season. In that moment, surrounded by laughter, cookies, and the warmth of Christmas, Lando and Y/N knew that this was what the holidays were really all about.

And as they settled in with a plate of cookies and a cup of hot cocoa, the world outside continued to drift by, but inside, everything was perfect.

💕💕Remember reblog helps a lot guy💕💕

[acesofspadess]

Matching Festivities 🎄

12 days of Mix-Mas // Day 4

Oscar Piastri x reader

summary: You and and Oscar were supposed to be having a cosy night in, Oscar had some different plans in his mind...

warnings: slight dom/sub dynamics, lingerie?, smut-ish, swearing,

The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg filled the living room, mingling with the rich aroma of hot cocoa. Twinkling Christmas lights adorned the walls, casting a soft, festive glow over the cozy space. The crackling fireplace completed the picture-perfect holiday ambiance.

Oscar was meticulously arranging the snack platter on the coffee table, his brows furrowed in concentration. "Do we think gingerbread cookies and popcorn are a weird mix, or are we just leaning into the chaos of Christmas?" he asked, tilting his head as he studied the arrangement.

You laughed from your spot on the couch, where you were nestled under a mound of soft blankets. "We’re absolutely leaning into the chaos. Besides, no one’s going to complain about cookies and popcorn."

Oscar grinned, his dimples making an appearance as he brought the tray over and placed it in front of you. "You’re right. It's festive anarchy or nothing tonight."

The two of you had planned this night for weeks—a Christmas movie marathon, complete with matching pajamas, endless snacks, and mugs of hot cocoa topped with far too much whipped cream. It was Oscar’s idea to make it a "classic Christmas extravaganza," and he’d spent hours curating the perfect lineup of movies.

"Okay, first up, we have the undisputed champion of Christmas movies: Home Alone. Thoughts? Concerns?"

"Zero concerns. It’s a masterpiece," you said, adjusting the blanket so he could slide in beside you. "But if we’re starting with Home Alone, we’re definitely following it with Elf."

Oscar chuckled as he grabbed the remote. "Naturally. Kevin McCallister and Buddy the Elf would want it that way."

As the opening credits of Home Alone played, you settled in against Oscar’s side, his arm draping casually around your shoulders. The warmth of the fire, the soft hum of holiday music in the background, and the sound of Oscar’s occasional commentary made everything feel perfect.

"Okay, but seriously, why didn’t the parents count the kids before getting on the plane? Rookie move," Oscar said, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Because the plot needed them to mess up, obviously," you replied, tossing a piece of popcorn at him. "Also, let’s not pretend you wouldn’t panic and forget something if we were late for a flight."

He caught the popcorn effortlessly and popped it into his mouth, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I’d forget something, sure. But not you."

The cheesy line earned him a playful nudge, and he laughed, pulling you closer. The movie continued, punctuated by your shared laughter and occasional debates over the logistics of Kevin’s traps.

As the credits rolled and the screen faded to black, Oscar shifted beside you, reaching for the remote to queue up Elf. But instead of starting the next movie, he hesitated, his expression suddenly more thoughtful.

You raised an eyebrow. "What’s that face?"

"What face?"

"The one you’re making right now. You look like you’re either about to confess to a crime or ask me something ridiculous."

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, maybe not a crime. But... I did have a little something extra planned for tonight."

Curiosity piqued, you sat up a bit straighter. "Extra? Like what?"

Oscar stood, his movements slightly awkward as he made his way over to the small pile of wrapped presents under the tree. He picked up a gift bag that you hadn’t noticed before and turned back to you, a sheepish smile on his face.

"So, you know how we said we’d go all out for the holiday spirit?" he began, his tone light but his eyes flickering with something unreadable.

You nodded slowly, intrigued. "Yeah..."

"Well, I might have taken it... a step further," he said, handing you the bag. "Open it."

Your fingers brushed against the festive tissue paper as you pulled it aside, revealing something soft and lacy inside. Your cheeks warmed as you realized what it was—a matching set of Christmas-themed lingerie in a deep red hue, complete with delicate white trim.

You looked up at Oscar, your eyes wide. "You did not."

He grinned, his confidence returning now that the reveal was out in the open. "I absolutely did. And before you say anything, there’s a second set in there. For me."

At that, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter. "You bought matching festive lingerie? For both of us?"

"It’s called commitment to the bit," he said, crossing his arms and trying to look serious. "Also, I think it’s very on-brand for us."

You shook your head, still laughing as you pulled out the second set. Sure enough, it was a more masculine version of the same design, complete with red satin and white trim. The idea of Oscar in something so absurdly festive was both hilarious and unexpectedly... appealing.

"This is possibly the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done," you said, holding up the lingerie.

"Ridiculous, or genius?" he countered, his tone playful as he leaned against the back of the couch. "Come on, it’ll be fun. Think of it as a new holiday tradition."

You bit your lip, torn between teasing him mercilessly and indulging in the spontaneity of it all. "You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?"

"Dead serious," he said, his eyes gleaming with challenge. "But if you’re too chicken to wear yours..."

That did it. You weren’t about to back down from a challenge, especially not one from Oscar. "Oh, I’m wearing mine. But you better put yours on too, or this whole thing is off."

His grin widened. "Deal."

A few minutes later, you were both back in the living room, each dressed in your respective sets. The sight of Oscar in his matching lingerie was enough to send you into another fit of laughter, but he didn’t let you dwell on it for long. His smirk deepened as he stepped closer, his presence commanding in a way that made your breath hitch.

"What’s the verdict?" he asked, his voice dropping into a lower register as his fingers grazed the curve of your waist. "Do I look festive enough for you?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as his hands slid up, his touch both gentle and firm. "I—yeah. Definitely festive."

""Good," he murmured, his lips twitching with satisfaction. "Because you’re absolutely stunning." His eyes raked over you, the heat in his gaze making your cheeks flush as you felt his approval wash over you like a warm wave. "Turn around for me."

You hesitated for only a moment, your heart fluttering under his focused attention. The weight of his command wasn’t oppressive; it was magnetic, drawing you to comply. Slowly, you turned, acutely aware of the way his eyes followed every movement. When his hands found the delicate fabric at your hips, they didn’t merely touch—they claimed. The warmth of his palms was grounding, a stark contrast to the fluttering excitement in your chest.

When you finally faced him again, his expression had shifted completely. There was no teasing glint in his eyes, only a raw, unfiltered intensity that made you feel both exposed and cherished.

"I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this beautiful," he said softly, his voice steady but laced with something deeper, almost reverent. He stepped closer, his hands sliding up to cradle your face, his touch firm yet tender, leaving no doubt as to who held the reins in this moment. "And the fact that you let me talk you into this? You’re perfect."

You parted your lips to respond, but he didn’t give you the chance. His mouth claimed yours in a kiss that wasn’t just passionate—it was purposeful. The force of it stole your breath, and when his hands moved to hold you firmly against him, you melted into the connection.

The softness of the lace and satin you wore was a delicate counterpoint to the insistence of his grip. Every movement he made was deliberate, calculated, a reminder that he was utterly in control. You could feel it in the way his hands guided you, in the way his lips moved against yours—there was no hesitation, no doubt. Just him, leading, and you willingly following.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his thumb brushed over your flushed cheek in a gesture that felt both grounding and possessive. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice rough yet tender, each word carrying the weight of his devotion.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, clinging to him as you tried to steady your breathing. "Merry Christmas, Oscar," you managed, your voice soft but steady, carried by the warmth radiating between you.

The movie still played on in the background, a faint reminder of the festive evening you’d planned. But it no longer mattered. The world outside faded as his lips found yours again, this time slower, savoring, as if he had all the time in the world to show you exactly what you meant to him. His hands guided you back onto the couch, his weight pressing you into the cushions with a confidence that made your pulse quicken.

Every kiss, every touch, every deliberate move spoke of his control, his assurance, and his desire to make this moment entirely yours—and his. Tonight, you weren’t just a part of his Christmas celebration. You were the celebration, and he was determined to make you feel it in every breathless second.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice rough yet tender.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him as you caught your breath. "Merry Christmas, Oscar."

The movie played on in the background, forgotten as he kissed you again, this time slower, more deliberate. His hands guided you back onto the couch, his weight pressing you into the cushions as the world outside faded away. Tonight, nothing mattered but him—and the way he made you feel utterly, completely his.

[fluentmoviequoter]

For Goodness Bakes

hot cocoa bar celebration��❄���🎄

requested here!

Pairing: platonic Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Tim needs to bake cookies for a Christmas party, and you're happy to help.

Warnings/Word Count: 1.4k+ words of fluff

Tim isn’t sure how Angela roped him into attending her Christmas party or why he offered to bring something for everyone. Next time he sees her, he’ll accuse her of trapping him or using something against him, even though he knows she’ll smile and ask what gifts he brought. Tim sighs and leans back on his couch when he's reminded about the gifts. His fellow officers are hard to get gifts for, he’s decided. The only helpful result he got from looking online was a recommendation to make something both because it’s heartfelt and it keeps costs down.

Tim scrolls through an article on the best things to make friends for Christmas and rolls his eyes as he passes what seems like the hundredth different cookie recipe. When he sees a cookie assortment idea, however, he stops. Tim doesn’t know what everyone likes, so baking different recipes and flavors seems like a good idea. Then, he remembers that he does not enjoy baking and doesn't think he could bake such a large quantity without assistance.

Tim taps his phone against his hand and considers calling Lucy for help. Before he can dial her number, his phone buzzes with an incoming text.

If Kojo needs any dog treats for Christmas, let me know. I made too many :)

Shaking his head, Tim stands and calls Kojo. After he clips the leash to his harness, Tim exits his house and walks toward yours. He should have remembered earlier that you love baking and enjoy spending time with Tim – even if he doesn’t understand why. Kojo bounces excitedly on your front step as Tim knocks, and when you open the door with a smile, Tim knows he made the right choice.

“Hi, Kojo!” you greet happily. “And Kojo’s walker.”

“Still funny,” Tim deadpans. “We’re not here for treats.”

You cover Kojo’s ears and look at Tim in faux disgust.

“Not just treats,” he corrects.

With that, you stand and invite them inside. Several baking sheets lined with silicone rest on your counter, and you pull a treat off the one closest to you. After ensuring it has cooled enough, you toss it to Kojo and smile as he catches it.

“What can I help you with?” you inquire.

“Baking,” Tim answers as he rolls Kojo's leash and sets it on one of your stools. “If you have time.”

Pressing a hand to your heart, you wipe an imaginary tear from your cheek and say, “I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

“Are the dramatics required for cookie making or just something you like to add for flourish?” Tim jokes.

“Cookies? Ooh, okay, what are we making and why?”

You move into your kitchen and wash your hands before offering Tim an apron.

“Right now?” he asks. “I didn’t mean to rush you.”

“When do you need them?”

“Tomorrow night for a Christmas party.”

“Then now is the perfect time. So, what flavors?”

Tim pulls his phone from his pocket and shows you the article he has open. You nod at the list of flavors and then purse your lips.

“I think we can do better,” you decide. You pull a pen from your drawer and tear a sheet of paper from the magnetic pad on your fridge. “So, chocolate chip, gingerbread, sugar cookies, those are Christmas classics. But for the rest, we can do better than snickerdoodles or shortbread.”

“Thank you for helping,” Tim interjects.

“Of course. And remember that I’m helping, we have to do this together.”

Tim hides his growing smile as he agrees, “Absolutely.”

“Who are these for? Cops?” you inquire.

Tim nods and says, “Angela, Lucy, Nolan, their families.”

You tap the pen against your chin, then say, “I have a caramel cookie recipe I think Lucy would like. Any idea about what flavors they like?”

Tim shrugs, and you roll your eyes playfully.

“If we do chocolate chip, sugar cookies, gingerbread, caramel, hot chocolate-“

“Hot chocolate?”

“Yeah, it’s a chocolate cookie with a fudgy ganache mixed in, and we can top it with marshmallow drizzle.”

“These are Christmas presents, not an entry to the Great British Bake Off,” Tim points out.

“I knew you liked that show,” you accuse, pointing at him. “Besides, it’s Christmas and you like these people whether you’re willing to admit it or not. So, we make a few relatively simple cookie recipes and make their year with a Tim Bradford handmade present.”

Tim pulls the apron over his head and sighs. “Tell me what to do.”

While Tim gathers the ingredients, you clean up from your last round of baking. After the silicone liners have been switched and everything has been thoroughly washed, you return to Tim’s side and find your favorite gingerbread recipe.

“We’ll start with these and the sugar cookies because the dough needs to chill before baking,” you explain. “Then while the others are baking and these are cooling, we can work on the other stuff.”

Tim skims the recipe as you speak and says, “Looks simple enough.”

“That’s what I hoped to hear. You get started on this then and I’ll work on sugar cookies?” you suggest. Tim nods, and you add, “Would I be pressing my luck if I turned on Christmas music?”

“Go for it,” Tim murmurs as he begins measuring ingredients for the first step.

“If I knew baking distracted you, I would’ve asked for help sooner,” you murmur as you press play on your favorite playlist.

Several minutes later, Tim switches the mixer off and asks, “Does this look smooth and creamy?”

You walk to his side and peek into the bowl. “Beat it for another thirty seconds or so.”

Tim turns the switch, and the paddle begins beating the butter again, and you stand by his side and watch. When he looks to you for confirmation that it's done, you frown.

“You got something right here,” you explain, wiping your finger across his cheek.

Tim feels the sugar roll off of your skin and onto his. Pressing his lips together, he watches you struggle not to smile.

“Why did I ask you for help?” Tim grumbles.

“Because you need my expertise. And I’m such great company, right, Kojo?”

Kojo huffs, and you offer Tim a towel before you return to your sugar cookie dough. Tim didn’t specify if he wanted to frost these, but you think just the cookies will be enough for now. His work friends will be shocked to get such a thoughtful gift, you think, and you’re grateful to be part of Tim’s life and to get to help him with something like this.

While you wait for the last tray of cookies to finish baking, you toss a ball for Kojo and laugh when he tries to tackle you to bring it back.

“Thank you again,” Tim says as he dries his hands. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“They’re going to love the treats,” you reply. “It was really sweet of you.”

“Maybe you can teach me how to make you a cake before your birthday,” Tim muses.

“Maybe,” you agree carefully. “Or maybe you can just order one so we can both get a break.”

The oven timer beeps, and Tim removes the chocolate chip cookies and sets them on a trivet to cool. He walks to your side to take the ball from Kojo before bouncing it.

“I found a recipe that I think Lucy would love,” you tell Tim. “You should make it for her birthday. It’s a copycat recipe for the 33-layer cake from Club 33, but the filling between each layer is a different classic Disney movie theme.”

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Tim says. “What makes you think I could do that?”

“If you’re chicken, just say so.”

“I’m not chicken!” Tim defends. “I can make it, I just-“ He stops when he sees the smile on your face. “I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”

“My stunning personality and incredible baking skills. Plus, I spoil Kojo.”

“And dinner,” Tim complains.

“I told you not to eat so much of the dough,” you remind him. “I can order a pizza, and we can start constructing these treat boxes I have that look like gingerbread houses.”

You disappear into the kitchen, and Kojo looks up at Tim with his ears perked.

“You did hear the part about thirty-three layers, right? I’m a beginner, pal.”

[peachiejeongin]

Cookies and Chaos | Felix

Day 1 of the 12 Days of Staymas!

Synopsis: Baking Christmas cookies is supposed to be a sweet, simple activity; however, with flour fights, deformed batches, and the constant distractions of your boyfriend, it quickly turns into a delightful mess.

Pairing: bf!Felix x reader

Genre: Fluff!

Warnings: None!

Notice: Hello, my loves! Welcome to the first official PeachieJeongin 12 Days of Staymas! Click on the link above to find the other fanfictions that go along with this mini-series, and enjoy the read!

---

"Okay," Felix squinted intently at the recipe card you had given him, his deep Australian accent coating his dialect. "Step one: Cream the butter and sugar together."

You had invited your boyfriend over that night to embark in your annual Christmas tradition: baking Christmas cookies! You had believed it would be a wholesome way to bond and enjoy the holiday spirit; what you had not accounted for was Felix's...unique approach to baking.

You prepared a bowl of softened butter and sprinkled a cup of sugar over top.

"Do you want me to mix it, or do you want to do it?" you asked, a holly dazzle in your eyes.

"I've got this!" Felix assured confidently, gently taking the whisk out of the cabinet and starting on the task at hand. A few seconds later, it became clear that Felix did indeed not have this; butter and sugar flew around the kitchen as Felix whisked with a bit too much enthusiasm.

"Felix!" you gasped, grabbing his arm and laughing as a dollop of sugary butter landed on your sweater. Felix froze and his eyes widened in guilt.

"Oops." Felix was grinning mischievously. "Well, might as well finish the job, right?"

"Huh?" Before you could get a response, Felix had grabbed a pinched of flour, flicking it at your nose.

"Oh!" you groaned playfully, your face scrunching as a result of the impact. "It. Is. ON!" You retaliated with a handful of flour, aimed directly at his shirt; before you knew it, the kitchen turned into a baking sandstorm as you and Felix flung fistfuls of flour at one another. You were both laughing so hard that you could barely even see through the flurry.

"Okay, okay!" you screamed out as Felix reached for the flour tin once more. "Truce?" you held up your pinkie finger for Felix to take; the poor boy was smeared with flour, looking like a personified snowman. You did not look much better with the white baking substance coating your entire scalp.

"Yes, yes," Felix replied, crossing his pinkie finger with yours. "Truce. These cookies aren't going to bake themselves."

You nodded agreeingly, giggling.

"Promise you'll behave now?" you glanced at Felix, eyes doe in order to elicit the vow.

"Promise. Time to get serious!"

Felix's "serious" attempts were no less chaotic than his silly attempts. As the baking process continued, he ended up cracking a couple of eggs much too forcefully, sending egg yolk cascading off of the edge of the counter.

You thought it as a miracle when the cookie dough was finished, thankfully looking like cookie dough. You brought out a handful of cookie cutters and set them out along with some knives in case the two of you wanted to make any other shapes.

"Baby, can you look at these?" Felix asked in reference to his cookies; you nearly doubled over in laughter at the sight. The cookie shapes were hilariously unrecognizable; the gingerbread men appeared more like octopuses, and there was a star with six points in the center of the pan.

"They're, um," you began diplomatically, stifiling the fit of giggles. "Unique?" Felix narrowed his eyes at you, causing the laughter you had been holding in to erupt like a volcano.

By the end of the evening, the kitchen looked like a war zone; flour was spread everywhere, the egg yolk had made its way to the floor, and other ingredients lay spread out amongst counters and tables.

The cookies, however, turned out delicious.

As you and your boyfriend snuggled together on the couch, munching on the freshly baked treats and watching Christmas movies, Felix nudged you playfully.

"Hey," he called softly, his voice more serious this time. "Thank you for inviting me over. This is always my favorite part of the year. It was really fun."

You smiled, leaning over as if you were about to kiss him; however, you stopped just before reaching his lips.

"Even though we destroyed my kitchen?"

"Especially because of that," he whispered cheekily as he cupped your cheek and closed the distance between you two with love and Christmas care. He pulled away after a few seconds, smiling down at you, and mumbling a rhetorical question:

"It's not Christmas with a little chaos, right?"

[marshmallowprotection]

world hard and cold, kissing saeran soft and warm

"You know... as much as I appreciate your attempt to distract me, and I hate to tell you this... but, it won't be enough to stop me. I'm afraid I am well-versed in maintaining my focus on not only what's in front of me but what's in my hands as well," he hummed.

"You mean to say I haven't done enough to distract you so far."

That was enough to draw a chuckle from Saeran's lips as you planted another kiss against the back of his head. He never seemed to mind the attention you gave him when it meant he could feel you close to him. How could you not give him a dozen kisses when he was bent over the kitchen counter? He was at the right height to have you not only wrap your arms around his waist but lean over and pepper him in kiss after kiss!

"You know I can't be distracted from baking dessert," he countered.

You could feel his muscles shift and contract as he continued to roll and press the dough beneath his fingertips. He mentioned earlier in the day that he wanted to have cookies after dinner, opting to try out a new recipe rather than purchase a pack from the store, and as cute as it was to see him adamant about what he wanted—

You wanted to tease him all the same for that serious look on his face! When he wanted to bake something, he took it with the utmost care and regard to not only the ingredients but to the notes he gathered in the process. There was no hurry to learn anything, he had all the time in the world to experiment in the kitchen, but nights like tonight were his favorite because he set aside an hour or two before bed to learn a new trick he saw somewhere during the week!

But, the kitchen wasn't the only place he put those research skills into practice.

It wasn't your goal to distract him from his quest, but it was your goal to pull his leg for sticking his tongue out in concentration like that. "Well, you can if I'm the dessert."

Saeran paused, briefly, to shake you from his back and twirl you around so you could settle in front of him and between his arms. Those kisses of yours had gotten to him, and that was enough for your satisfaction. It wasn't a game of trying to one-up each other, nope! It was a game of waves, pushing and pulling until you turned into a perfect shoreline of love.

"My love, I don't have to roll you over and pour flour on top of you to bring you to perfection. You're perfect just the way you are, I'm afraid. Though I will admit I'm not opposed to adding a strawberry on top for added flavor when I'm feeling peckish."

The giggle that escaped you was to his satisfaction, of course.

You glanced down at his cookie dough, "Saeran, might I ask why you've dug out the cookie cutters? Normally, you use this shape to create Gingerbread men. I may not know a lot about baking, but I know that not all cookies adhere to the shape of the cutter when they spread in the oven."

"That's why I'm tinkering with this particular recipe to find the right consistency," he explained. He returned to the dough and continued to spread it out across the cutting board.

You raised a brow, "Oh? What do you plan to do once you make the perfect cookie? Are you going to make an army of cookies? Will they guard the rest of your treats?"

"No, I decided that I want to bake you into a cookie so whenever you have to leave for work during the week, I'll have the sweetest version of you to keep me company," He said, the serious nature to his voice left you no room to prod to see if it was a joke. "Not that you're not a sweetheart, my love. You taste like a sweet spice, warm and cozy on my tongue, but the cookie version of you... will taste like the love we share... so saccharine that I'll be tasting you for hours."

You floundered, bouncing between words but none could come fast enough. Eventually, you settled for a simple whine of complaint to let him know what his words did to your heart. "Don't make me bite you!"

"Oh, should I make a cookie version of myself for you to take to work as well? I imagine you might like to bite into him, too."

"Saeran Choi!"

[giveafike]

Sugar, Spice & Everything Nice! -B.T.S

TLDR: making gingerbread cookies w Ben :p. This is part 4/12 of Azzie's Advent Calendar 2024!

Word count + info: 4.6k. including dialogue.

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW! No warnings : )

Azzie Notes ✚: this one’s heavily inspired by my own family tradition - we always bake gingerbread cookies since I was a little girl! The first time I did, it was in primary school when I was maybe 6, 7 years old? And after that, my family took it and made it our own little mess :) v v wholesome making little biscuits, shaping them and waiting for them to cool and then decorating them… it’s such a pure act of patience and love, right? Also, changed the middle pic to the MSG pic, his eyes are twinkling, god I love him bad

————————————————————————

The morning was quiet, the kind of stillness that only came when the house was nearly empty. A faint December golden light filtered through the kitchen windows, warming the wooden table where you sat, flipping through the cookbook you had picked up at the Christmas market. The glossy pages felt smooth under your fingers, each recipe accompanied by photos of perfectly baked treats and artful decorations. It was the sort of book that made everything seem achievable, even for a novice. A steaming mug of coffee sat on the table beside you, the rich aroma mingling with the faint hint of pine from the Christmas tree in the other room. Ben had made the coffee, placing it in front of you with a casual kiss on the top of your head and a small rub on your shoulder before taking his place, sitting across you at the table with his own mug. Underneath the table, Halo was sprawled out comfortably, still softly snoring against the floorboards whenever you shifted your feet.

The house was calm, Lisa and Bryan were out doing some last-minute Christmas shopping, and Emma had spent the night at her friend’s house, leaving her still lounging over there for the day. It was just you and Ben.

He seemed at ease, leaning against the counter in his sweats and a faded T-shirt, sipping his coffee and scrolling on his phone. There was something different about him in his childhood home, a quiet confidence, a comfort that came with years of familiarity but you being with him? He liked the way that felt.

Curiosity got the better of him as he set down his phone and stepped closer. “What’s got you so locked in?” he asked, peering over your shoulder.

You smiled, holding the book up slightly so he could see. “Gingerbread cookies,” you said, pointing to a page with intricately decorated cookies that looked almost too good to eat.

Ben squinted at the lengthy recipe and let out a soft laugh. “That’s... ambitious. Is that what you’re thinking of makin'?”

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. “I mean, when I was a kid, we made gingerbread cookies once or twice, but it was the easy kind. You know, cutting out shapes from pre-made dough and sticking them on parchment paper. Not exactly homemade.”

He chuckled, leaning against the back of your chair. “So, you skipped all the hard stuff and went straight to the fun part, huh?”

“Exactly,” you said with a grin. “But this... this is the real deal. Making the dough, rolling it out, and baking from scratch. It feels like something I should try at least once, one day...”

Ben’s eyes softened as he watched you, the corners of his lips twitching upward. “Well,” he said, straightening up, “why not today? Let’s do it.”

“Really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “You sure? This recipe is, like, a full-day commitment. I was just looking for inspiration.”

He nodded, setting his empty mug on the table. “Yeah, I’m sure. Mom’s stocked up on all the baking stuff for the holidays, so we should have everything we need. Besides, you’ve been talkin' about a baking day since we got here. Why not now?”

You hesitated for a moment, scanning his face for any hint of second thoughts, but his broad smile was nothing but genuine, his excitement contagious.

“Alright,” you said, closing the cookbook and standing up. “Let’s do it. But you better be ready to work, I’m not doing this all by myself.”

Ben smirked, crossing his arms. “Don’t worry, I’m a great assistant. I’ll handle the hard labour.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your small smile as you began to call out ingredients while Ben gathered. Ben leaned casually against the counter, watching as you carefully measured out the flour, sugar, and spices, the soft clinking of measuring cups the only sound in the room. There was a quiet concentration in the way you moved, a small crease forming between your brows as you checked the recipe and sifted the flour into a large mixing bowl. Every so often, he caught you muttering numbers under your breath, double-checking your measurements, making him smile in pure smitten adoration.

“You’re taking this seriously, huh?” he teased, arms crossed as he leaned a hip against the counter.

“Of course I am,” you replied, not looking up. “You don’t mess around with dough. One wrong move, and it’s game over.”

Ben chuckled, stepping closer to the cabinets. “Alright, Chef. What’s next? Spices?”

You nodded, dragging your finger across the page of the cookbook to check the measurements. “Yep. Cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and nutmeg. You got it?”

Ben nodded before he pushed himself off, stretching up to the top shelf of the cabinet, his fingers easily reaching the small spice jars that were out of your reach. He handed them to you one by one, lingering close as you measured each spice into a small bowl. The kitchen was soon filled with a warm, heady aroma, the kind that instantly made everything feel more festive.

“Smells like Christmas, for sure. You're doing somethin' right” Ben said, leaning down slightly to take a dramatic sniff.

“Smells like a lot of hard work,” you corrected, smiling as you added the spices to the bowl. “Alright, next is the wet ingredients. Butter and molasses, grab the molasses for me?”

Ben grabbed the jar and slid it across the counter toward you, watching you spoon the thick, dark syrup into the bowl. “That stuff’s like tar,” he remarked, raising an eyebrow.

You laughed. “It’s basically liquid gold for gingerbread, though. Trust the process.”

He nodded, though his expression remained sceptical. “Mhm. If you say so.”

As you cracked eggs into the mixture and began to combine everything, Ben wandered over to your side, resting a hand lightly on your back as he peered into the bowl.

“You’ve got this,” he said playfully. “But if you need some real muscle for the next part, I’m available.”

You glanced up at him, smirking. “Oh, don’t worry, you’re about to get your hands dirty.”

His grin widened. “Man, I’ve been waiting for you to say that!”

Once the dough had started to come together, you handed him the wooden spoon, pointing at the thick mixture.

“Alright, muscle-man. It’s your time to shine. But be careful, don’t overwork it. We need the dough to be soft and pliable, not like a brick.”

"Don’t overwork it," he echoed, his voice deliberately mimicking your tone. He tried to press his lips into a straight line, but his smile betrayed him. With a playful glint in his eye, he took the spoon from your hand. "Got it," he said, his grin slipping through despite his efforts.

You stepped back, crossing your arms as you watched him take over. His biceps flexed slightly as he stirred the dense dough, and you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he managed it, effortless and, somehow, ridiculously attractive. He was a mix of charm and frustration rolled into one.

“This isn’t so bad,” he said, glancing at you with a smug grin. “I thought you said this would be hard work.”

You rolled your eyes, sighing as you distracted yourself by taking the dirty utensils and bowls into the sink to stop yourself from drooling. “That’s because you haven’t gotten to the part where your arm feels like it’s going to fall off.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Please. I’m a professional athlete. I think I can handle-”

Mid-sentence, the spoon hit a particularly stubborn clump of dry dough, plastered in flour, and Ben’s smug expression faltered as he struggled to keep a massive part of the unmixed batter from spilling over the edge of the bowl.

“Careful!” you exclaimed, eyes widening as you stepped forward to steady the bowl.

“Alright, alright,” he said, his voice tinged with laughter as he adjusted his grip. “Maybe this is a little more work than I thought.”

You grinned, giving his arm a playful nudge. “Told you. Now, keep going. You’re doing great.”

With a determined look, Ben continued to fold the dough, his movements steady and deliberate under you as you glanced every now and then. You found yourself smiling as you guided him, appreciating how he seemed to take it all in stride, even the mess.

Finally, the dough was smooth and well-mixed, and you placed a hand on his arm to stop him. “Okay, that’s perfect. Any more, and you’ll ruin it.”

Ben set the spoon down with a dramatic sigh, shaking his hand as though he’d just finished a workout. “You weren’t kidding about the arm workout.”

You laughed, reaching for the plastic wrap to cover the dough. “See? Baking isn’t just about precision, it’s about endurance. You’d better hydrate if you want to make it to the next round. Maybe take a seat on the bench.”

Ben chuckled, as he watched you wrap the dough in cling film and set it in the fridge to rest. His gaze soft as he admired the way you moved around the kitchen.

“You’re kinda cute when you get all serious about this,” he said, his voice low and warm.

You shot him a playful glare, your cheeks warming. “Focus, Shelton. We’re only halfway there.”

He held up his hands in surrender, a grin tugging at his lips. “Alright, Chef. What’s next?”

With the dough resting in the fridge, you began tidying up, wiping down the counter and setting out the tools you’d need for shaping the cookies. Ben, however, wasn’t nearly as patient. He leaned against the fridge door, staring at it like he could will the dough to finish resting faster.

“So,” he said, breaking the silence, “do we have to wait for an hour? Can’t we just… you know, start shaping them now? It's not like we're in an exam, no one's gonna know.”

You glanced over your shoulder, catching the almost puppy-like look in his eyes. “Yes, we absolutely have to wait,” you said firmly, though you couldn’t help but smile at his impatience.

Ben groaned dramatically, dragging his hand down his face and through his curls, tussling them softly. “But why? It’s just dough. It’s not like it’s a steak that needs to rest or something.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you reached into a drawer to pull out the cookie cutters. “Because,” you explained, setting the cutters on the counter, “resting the dough lets the gluten relax, which keeps the cookies from spreading too much when they bake. It also gives the spices time to blend together and makes the dough easier to roll out. Trust me, it’s worth it.”

Ben sighed, back again with that sceptical look, before mumbling, “Sounds like a lot of fancy science talk just to make some cookies.”

“Maybe,” you admitted, grinning at him. “But it’s the kind of science that keeps your cookies from turning into sad little blobs.”

He broke into a smile, finally conceding. “Fine, fine. You’re the expert.”

“Thank you,” you said with mock seriousness, giving him a teasing salute before focusing on your setup.

While the dough rested, you busied yourself with preparing the island. You got Ben on an exploration to find a large rolling pin and the cookie cutters, while you dusted the surface and neatly lined up the equipment, spreading them out across the counter as excitement spread through you. There were hearts, stars, gingerbread men and women, Christmas trees, and a few other festive shapes.

Ben watched you work, his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. “You love preppin', huh?”

“Always,” you replied, tossing him a smile as you laid sheets of parchment paper onto baking trays. “Baking is all about being ready before the chaos starts.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Chaos?”

“You’ll see,” you said ominously, grabbing a canister of flour and sprinkling a thin layer across the island. “Just wait until we’re elbow-deep in icing and sprinkles.”

Ben chuckled, stepping closer as you worked. “Oh, that sounds like my kind of chaos.”

Once everything was set up, you took a step back, admiring your handiwork. The counter was clean, floured, and ready to go, with the trays and cutters neatly arranged. Ben, however, was back to pacing near the fridge, occasionally glancing at the clock.

Once the dough had rested, you pulled it from the fridge and placed it on the floured countertop, its chilled surface smooth and pliable under your hands. Ben leaned in eagerly, eyeing the mound of dough like it was a prize.

"Alright," you said, handing him the rolling pin, "your turn. Just don’t go too wild. Nice and even, okay?”

He raised an eyebrow, gripping the rolling pin with an exaggerated flourish. “Nice and even. Got it. I’m basically a pro already.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased, stepping back to preheat the oven.

Ben pressed the rolling pin to the dough and began rolling, his movements a little uneven at first. He squinted down at the dough, muttering, “This is harder than it looks.”

You glanced over, biting back a laugh. “It’s not a race, Ben. Just take your time and keep it even.”

“Don’t worry, I understand it now” he whispered, almost to himself, as he shot you a grin. “I’ve got it handled. Gimme a second and this dough’ll be flatter than a pancake.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you prepared the cookie cutters, dipping them lightly into flour to keep the shapes clean.

Once the dough was rolled out to the perfect thickness, you stepped in, lining up the cutters.

“Okay, now for the fun part,” you said, handing him a gingerbread man cutter. “Start with this one. We’ll work our way through all the shapes.”

Ben pressed the cutter into the dough, lifting it to reveal a cleanly cut gingerbread man. He held it up like a trophy, beaming. “Look at that! First try. Told you I’m a natural.”

“Alright, natural,” you said, handing him a Christmas tree cutter. “Let’s see how you do with the next one.”

The two of you fell into a steady rhythm, cutting out hearts, stars, and more gingerbread men and women. Ben found himself holding up each shape, constantly amazed and proud before gently setting the cookies down onto the parchment paper.

As he cut out another gingerbread man, he paused, holding up one of each. “Now, hold on. We gotta make sure there’s an equal number of these two.” He gestured between the gingerbread man and woman cutters. “Gotta keep things fair. Equality and all.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “How very noble of you.”

“I’m serious!” he insisted, though the twinkle in his eye betrayed him. “We’re not gonna have more dudes than ladies on the tray. That’d be unbalanced.”

“Okay, okay,” you relented, humouring him. “Equality it is.”

As the shapes piled up, flour seemed to cover everything and everyone. Ben had a streak of it across his cheek, and you could feel it dusting your own hands, arms, and even your clothes. At one point, he reached across to grab another cutter and left a powdery handprint on your sleeve.

“Ben!” you exclaimed, pointing to the mark.

He glanced down at his flour-covered hand, then back at you, his grin widening. “Oops. Too focused on the task at hand.”

You shook your head, fighting back a smile. Despite the mess, you were both surprisingly focused, working in sync as you filled tray after tray with perfectly cut cookies. The shapes were neat and even, and the dough scraps were rolled back together with care to minimise waste.

“You know,” Ben said as he carefully placed a gingerbread woman onto a tray, “I’m impressed. I thought for sure I’d mess this up by now.”

“You’re doing great,” you said, genuinely impressed by his effort. “See? Patience pays off.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he teased, brushing a bit of flour off his hands. “I’m still not sold on this whole ‘waiting for the dough’ thing.”

“You’ll thank me when the cookies turn out perfect,” you shot back, sliding the trays into the preheated oven.

Ben stood back, surveying the trays of cookies with a satisfied look. “Alright,” he said, crossing his arms. “What’s next? More science lessons, or are we finally gonna taste-test these bad boys?”

“Not yet,” you said with a laugh. “We still have decorating to do. And no, you’re not eating them straight out of the oven.”

“Why not?” he drawled, feigning a pout.

“Because,” you said, placing a hand around his waist, “burnt tongues aren’t fun.”

“Patience isn’t my strong suit,” he admitted, as he put his head in his hands, groaning.

“Really? I would've never guessed,” you said dryly, earning a playful nudge from him.

“Alright, what can I do while we wait?” he asked, clearly trying to distract himself.

You handed him a dishcloth and pointed to the floor where flour had inevitably dusted its surface. “You can start by cleaning that up.”

Ben groaned but grabbed the cloth anyway, crouching down to wipe the floor. “Slave labour,” he muttered under his breath, though the smirk on his face gave him away.

“You’re the one who asked for something to do,” you pointed out, crossing your arms as you watched him.

He glanced up at you, his grin widening. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t forget this when I’m a pro-level cookie decorator later.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said with a laugh. “I won’t.”

"You’re on decorating prep duty, babe. No rest for two pros like us.”

“Deal,” you said, as you hauled over the bags of powdered sugar, food colouring, and piping bags from the counters. As Ben wiped down the counter, his movements methodical but still sprinkled with his usual flair, you busied yourself mixing the icing. The clinking of bowls and the soft sound of Ben scrubbing created a cozy rhythm. You glanced over occasionally, catching the sight of him brushing stray flour onto the floor with a sheepish grin.

“Hey,” you called out, pointing a spatula at him. “I saw that.”

He froze mid-swipe, his grin widening. “What? The counter’s clean, isn’t it?”

You shook your head, giggling, and returned to your icing. With a careful hand, you divided the thick, glossy mixture into separate bowls, adding drops of food colouring until you had a rainbow of festive hues: deep red, vibrant green, black, soft white, and even a cheerful yellow.

Ben, having finished the counter, moved onto the floor. “How does flour even get under the table?” he muttered, crouching down to clean up.

“Halo probably helped,” you teased, glancing at the dog, who was padding through the house innocently.

“Traitor.”

As the first batch of cookies began to brown in the oven, the warm scent of spices filled the air. You could feel your shoulders relax as you peeked through the oven door. The cookies were holding their shape perfectly, with no spreading, no cracking.

“Success,” you whispered to yourself, relieved.

Ben stood up, dusting his hands on his sweatpants. “Counter’s spotless. Floor’s… basically there too.” He leaned against the island, watching as you filled the piping bags with icing and lined up the bowls of candy, mini M&Ms, jelly tots, and even icing pearls.

“This is starting to look serious,” he commented.

Ben didn’t wait for an invitation. He reached out, snagging a still-steaming gingerbread man from the tray.

“Ben!” you exclaimed. “It’s hot!”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he said through a wince, pulling the cookie back quickly and blowing on it. He took a cautious bite, only to pause, his face twisting.

“Ow!”

You couldn’t help but sigh at the way he pouted, holding the cookie gingerly in one hand.

“I warned you,” you said, stepping closer.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, his pout deepening.

Still laughing, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, lingering just long enough to distract him from his discomfort. When you pulled back, his expression had shifted from a pout to a sheepish smile.

“Guess it was worth it,” he murmured, his voice warm.

You rolled your eyes playfully, taking the cookie from his hand and setting it back on the rack. “You’ll get your turn when they cool down. Patience, remember?”

“Patience is overrated, babe,” he said, but his grin told you he wasn’t serious.

As the cookies cooled, you finished preparing the decorating station, laying everything out neatly. Ben leaned against the counter, watching you with an easy smile. The kitchen felt brighter, and warmer, with the two of you moving around each other in sync. The air smelled of gingerbread, and the promise of creative chaos hung in the air.

Finally, it was time to start decorating. You handed Ben a piping bag filled with red icing and grabbed a green one for yourself. “Okay, let’s see those artistic skills,” you teased.

“Oh, prepare to be amazed,” he said, squeezing the bag experimentally.

The first few cookies were simple, a heart with white trim, and a star with bright yellow accents, but the moment Ben decided to create a gingerbread woman to resemble you, all bets were off.

“Hold still,” he said, squinting at you with a ridiculous level of concentration.

“Ben, it’s a cookie, not a portrait session.”

“Shh. Art takes focus,” he said, holding up a finger up dramatically.

You watched as he gave the gingerbread woman what was supposed to be your hair but looked more like lopsided spaghetti. The face was slightly off-centre, and the dress he attempted was smudged in one corner. When he finally set the piping bag down, he stepped back with a proud grin.

“Ta-da!” he announced, holding it up for you to see.

You stared at the cookie and burst out laughing. “Is that supposed to be me?”

“It’s abstract,” he defended. “You don’t get it ‘cause it’s, like, high-level creativity.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “I think I’ll stick to realism.”

You got to work on your gingerbread man, deciding to return the favour as you made a gingerbread version of Ben, giving him signature curly hair, his big grin, and, of course, his ON tennis kit, complete in black with a bright pink line in its detailing.

When you showed him the finished cookie, his eyes widened, clearly taking it sorely. “Okay, I see what you’re doin’. Showin’ me up.”

“It’s not a competition,” you teased.

“Everything’s a competition,” he said, but the small smile on his face told you he didn’t mind losing this one.

Next, you both decided to make cookies representing the rest of the family. Bryan’s gingerbread man got a blue sweater, Lisa’s had an apron and a pearl necklace, and Emma’s had her glasses and a small, closed-eye smile.

“Think they’ll recognise themselves?” you asked, tilting your head as you studied the lineup of gingerbread people.

“They’d better,” Ben said, carefully adding a final swirl of icing to Lisa’s apron. “I put effort into this.”

By the time you’d decorated the rest of the cookies, trees, stars, hearts, and more, the sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow through the kitchen windows. The oven was off, the counters were cleared, and the air was filled with the lingering smell of gingerbread and icing sugar. Just as you were cleaning up the last bits of mess, the front door opened, and the sound of laughter and familiar voices filled the house.

“Y’all home?” Lisa called out.

“In the kitchen!” Ben answered, rinsing the last mixing bowl in the sink.

Lisa and Bryan walked in first, carrying shopping and takeout bags, with Emma trailing behind. The three of them paused when they saw the island covered with cookies, their eyes immediately landing on the five gingerbread figures standing together at the front of the spread.

“What …on earth...?” Bryan said, leaning in to examine the cookies more closely. His eyes darted from the gingerbread man with a blue sweater to the one wearing an apron, and his face broke into a grin. “Are these supposed to be us?”

Lisa gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh my gosh, look at this!” She reached out delicately, picking up the cookie version of herself. “This is adorable, what a sweet surprise! Is that… an apron? You even added pearls!”

“That one’s me!” Emma crowed, pointing to the gingerbread woman with glasses and a massive smile. “I look so happy. Accurate.”

“Yeah, that was intentional,” you said with a smirk, glancing at Ben, who gave you a sly grin in return.

Bryan carefully picked up his cookie, inspecting the details. “Meanwhile all I got was a bald cookie and a sweater. Real funny.”

“You love sweaters, Dad,” Ben teased, drying his hands with a kitchen towel. “Don’t act like it’s not spot-on.”

Lisa placed her cookie back on the tray and turned to you, beaming. “This is so precious. Did you two make all of these today?”

“All day,” you confirmed, leaning against the counter. “We went all out, cutting, baking, decorating. Ben even rolled out the dough.”

“Don’t let her fool ya,” Ben drawled, nudging your shoulder with his. “She was the boss in this operation. I was just the muscle.”

“And the comic relief,” you added.

Emma leaned over the tray, picking up one of the star-shaped cookies. “These look amazing. Did y’all seriously make all these by hand? No, like, premade stuff?”

“Handmade, start to finish,” Ben said, puffing out his chest. “We’re pros now.”

Lisa laughed, shaking her head. “Well, I’d say it was worth it. They’re beautiful. I almost don’t want to eat them.”

“Almost,” Bryan echoed, already reaching for one of the undecorated trees.

Ben darted forward, intercepting him. “Hold up! Food first. Cookies are dessert.”

“Who made you the dessert police?” Bryan asked, but he let the cookie go, chuckling as he set it back down.

Lisa set the takeout bags on the counter, and the family gathered around, plates and utensils being passed out as everyone helped themselves to the food. The conversation flowed easily, filled with laughter and teasing, and the cookies remained at the centre of attention, a charming reminder of the day you and Ben had spent together.

Later, Ben stood with his arms crossed, watching his family laugh and talk as they picked out cookies to eat. When he noticed you looking, he gave you a soft, warm smile, the kind that made your chest feel full as he opened his arm to invite you in for a hug.

You walked over to him, settling into his side. “This turned out pretty great, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice low. He glanced at the tray of cookies again, then back to you. “Today was fun.”

You let your head rest on his shoulder. His arm slipped around your waist, holding you close as the room buzzed with warmth and love.

“Next time,” he murmured, his lips brushing your temple, “we’re makin’ gingerbread tennis rackets. I’ve got ideas to workshop.”

You sighed, feigning exasperation before laughing softly, tilting your head up to look at him. “I can’t wait to see how that turns out.”

“Better start stretchin’ my art portfolio now,” he teased, but the look in his eyes was anything but playful, soft, steady, and full of affection.

And just like that, in the middle of his childhood kitchen, surrounded by his family and the lingering scent of gingerbread, you realised this moment was one you’d hold onto for a long, long time.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

Decorating Cookies with tasm!peter parker pleaseeee

2024 Holiday Blurbs

Peter doesn’t do anything by halves. He loves fully, he lives fully, he dedicates himself completely to whatever task is at hand. Sure, he’s got a tendency to be a little flighty and he’s easily distracted, especially where you’re concerned, but if he says he’s going to do something, you’ve got a guarantee that it’ll get done and get done well.

“I think I got ‘em all!” He shouts as he slams the door behind him, and there’s a gentle scolding forming in your throat until he rounds the corner into the kitchen and you see there’s no other way he could have possibly closed the door. His arms and hands are absolutely covered in plastic bags, each of them full of cookies.

The other night you’d mention offhand that there was a bakery in your hometown that would always sell frozen Christmas cookie cutouts in all sorts of shapes, and that decorating them was your favorite part of the lead up to the holidays. You and Peter do lots of baking together anyway, and you’ve done gingerbread houses and made other festive treats in the holiday seasons you’ve spent with each other, but this year Peter was determined to recreate some of that childhood magic for you.

“How much was all of this?” You ask as you peer into one of the bags and take in the variety of shapes inside, and Peter just shrugs with a smile.

“Doesn’t matter, don’t remember,” he says as he sidesteps you to start preheating the oven.

“Don’t you think this is a bit much? How are we possibly going to eat all of these?” You’re so grateful for Peter and for his thoughtfulness, but the amount of time and money he’s spent trying to recreate your childhood memories makes your skin prickle just a little, the uncomfortable feeling of being cared for settling in your chest.

“Well, I think you’re underestimating us,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead as he sweeps by you to start laying some of the cookies on a baking sheet, kissing the back of your head on his way back towards the oven, “and we’ll give some to May and she can take some in to work and we can give them to our neighbors. Really, the possibilities are endless.”

“So you’ve really thought this through, huh?”

“Oh definitely.”

It takes a while to bake the cookies, and at least half of them end up in your freezer to make another day, the thought of sugar cookies shaped like snowmen in April or August already making you giggle. The rest of the afternoon is spent decorating the cookies that were baked, and you can’t help but marvel at the variety of shapes Peter was able to find. There are gingerbread men, of course, and there are snowmen and mittens and stars and snowflakes and trees, and a handful of shapes you can’t quite make out.

Cookie decorating quickly turns into a competition, seeing who can make the best looking cookie which quickly turns into trying to make the shapes look like something completely different, which turns into seeing who can decorate with the most toppings. Not surprisingly, Peter manages to win all of them, his focus and attention serving him well for the first two and his lack of self-control and desire for bragging rights helping him with the last.

It doesn’t matter to you, even as Peter brings up his success for days to come with a teasing smile. All that matters is that you spent a wonderful day with your favorite person, who put so much energy and thought into bringing your childhood back to life. Plus, you now have enough festive sugar cookies to feed an army, which is an added bonus.

[scariusaquarius]

tinsel kisses.

CHRISTMAS ADVENT BONANZA 2K24 DAY 12: Evergreen Decor, Izuku Midoriya

Izuku Midoriya x Fem! Reader Summary: You enlist Midoriya to help you with decorating your christmas tree when a sudden mishap causes shenanigans to ensue

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A/n: I love Midoriya so much! I think it would be so fun to decorate a tree with him heheh

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Genre: Friendship, Fluff, Humor Rated: Everyone Warning: Fluff, Swearing

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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"Ouch! That really hurt, Midoriya!"

"Oh no, I am so sorry! Are you okay? Do you need an ice pack? I'm so, so, so sorry!"

It was about 7pm at night in Musutafu, the city lit up in wonderful multicolors and glittering with snow as it came down heavily from the sky. You were decorating your home for Christmas, the holiday steadily approaching, and it had come time to decorate your tree.

Since you had been decorating your house and yard all day, you had decided to enlist the help of one of your closest friends to get the tree done.

Midoriya had been more than enthusiastic and had arrived to your house as soon as he could. The second he walked in, he was in awe by how much of a Winter Wonderland your apartment had become. Christmas lights, novelty items strewn around, and there was a mean-looking elf on the shelf that was staring right at him the second he opened the door.

'Always watching,' the sign attached said. Midoriya wasn't sure if he liked the elf that much.

You were in the kitchen when he had arrived, at the stove while the smell of chocolate filled the air. There were two mugs on the counter, a Gingerbread Man and a Gingerbread House, and they were filled with steaming chocolate.

Whipped cream adorned each of the rims and red, green, and white sprinkles with a candy cane hanging off of each side. There was also a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the counter, and Midoriya had been in heaven.

While waiting for the hot chocolate to cool down just enough so it wouldn't burn your tongues, you and Midoriya had gotten started on decorating the tree. Everything had been smooth, Midoriya reaching high and bending low while you gave directions on where to put the basic ornaments.

Then, it was the lights, the garland, the candy canes, and then it was time for the tinsel, and that's where things began to take a turn.

You had asked Midoriya to be the one to throw the tinsel around since One for All gave Midoriya the ability to float, and everything had gone well until Midoriya accidentally dropped the box of tinsel on you.

With a sore head and tinsel all over you, Midoriya was fussing about, checking your head and running to the kitchen to get an icepack. You weren't actually in pain, just a slight bump on the top of your skull, and when you glanced at yourself in the 'JOLLY' mirror that was beside the fireplace, you began to giggle.

"What is it?"

You leaned forward, taking Midoriya's hand when he offered it to you, and you stood up.

"I didn't think I needed a makeover that bad, Midoriya."

You blew some tinsel out of your face, and Midoriya became sheepish, rubbing the back of his head as he averted his gaze from you.

"No, it's not like that, I swear. You're beautiful all the time! I just...my hand slipped and...and I didn't grab the box in time before it fell on you. I really am sorry."

Your cheeks were hot, and a smile climbed over your face as you pointed out.

"I'm beautiful all the time?"

Midoriya looked horrified, face going completely red, and he exclaimed in embarrassment.

"No! I..I mean, yes! Yes, uh...all the time! I...Oh, please, help me."

He covered his face, and you laughed, gently taking his hands away from his face as Midoriya shyly looked at you. Taking some of the tinsel off of your head, you shook it all over him before saying with a cute smile.

"You're beautiful all the time to me too, Midoriya."

"R-Really?"

He looked awestruck, a part of him wondering if this was real and truly happening, and his heart began to race when you got closer to him, sliding your hands over his shoulders and around his neck and, oh, gods, you were so close to him.

His hands shakily rested against your hips, and euphoria burst through his whole body the second that your lips met his own. Midoriya was frozen for a moment from the ecstasy before his body molded against yours. Noses bumping slightly, you pulled away from him with a goofy little smile that had his whole body vibrating.

"Always, Midoriya. Wanna give me a lift to put the star on the tree and...maybe stay over to watch some Western Christmas movies with me?"

Midoriya giggled breathlessly, nodding with enthusiasm as he became slightly emotional, rubbing your noses together.

"I would love that so much!"

Grabbing the star for the tree, Midoriya lifted you within his arms bridal style, the two of you giggling as you both fumbled slightly, and Midoriya jumped up with a 'up we go!' and you effortlessly put the star on top of the tree.

Landing on the ground, Midoriya let you down, and you plugged the tree in and stood back, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting your head against his shoulder.

Midoriya couldn't keep the smile off of his face as he held you close, just admiring the tree with you, and your voice brought him so much joy and comfort as you whispered gently and held him tight.

"Merry Christmas, Midoriya."

"Merry Christmas, (Y/n)."

END DAY 12

[camisoledadparis]

STORY: My friend's Dad is a slut - The Christmas Batter

Christmas miracle is in the air already. And my friend's Dad want to make a batter with my thick rod.

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Hi, I'm back and have a Christmas-themed series. Hope everyone likes it. Luv ya!!

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The chill of the winter night seeped into my bones as I trudged through the snow-kissed streets, a heavy backpack slung over my shoulder. My destination: my best friend, Alex's, cozy little house, a haven from the biting cold.

Alex, with his unruly mop of dark hair and a perpetual twinkle in his eyes, was more than just a friend. He was family, the brother I never had. As I stepped into his warm, inviting home, the familiar scent of pine needles and freshly baked cookies filled my senses.

"Tin!" Alex's voice boomed, his wide grin stretching across his face. "You made it!"

I returned his smile, the tension of the long journey melting away. "Of course, I wouldn't miss Christmas with you guys."

His younger brother, a shy boy named Ethan, peeked out from behind the couch, his eyes wide with curiosity. I ruffled his hair, a fond smile playing on my lips.

As I stepped into the living room, my gaze was immediately drawn to a big man sitting by the fireplace. He was tall and rugged, with a strong jawline and piercing blue eyes. His dark red hair was neatly combed, and his features were sharp and angular. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a sweater, and he had a book in his hands.

"Dad, Tin is here already!" Alex said, introducing us.

Leon's eyes twinkle with warmth as he regards me, his smile widening at Alex’s words. “It's our pleasure to have you here, Tin. You know you're always welcome in our home.”

He sets aside his book and rises from the chair, his tall frame unfolding to its impressive height. As he moves closer, I could catch a whiff of his scent - a mix of woodsmoke from the fireplace and a subtle, masculine scence.

"You know, Leon," a warm smile spreading across my face, "I was just thinking about all the wonderful times I've spent here over the years. Your hospitality never fails to make me feel right at home."

Just then, Alex bursts into the living room with his younger brother trailing behind him. "Hey Dad, Tin - we've got a problem with the decorations. Looks like we're missing some key supplies for the centerpieces."

Leon frowns slightly, glancing at Tin before turning back to his sons. "Alright boys, why don't you run to the craft store downtown and pick up what we need? It shouldn't take too long."

Alex nods eagerly. "Yeah, no worries. We'll grab everything on the list and be back before you know it." He gives Tin a quick hug. "Don't have too much fun without us, okay? Would it be cool if you ready the dinner with my dad alone?"

With a roguish grin spreading across my face, I lean back casually, one muscular arm draped over the sofa's backrest "No worries, Alex. Your dad and I have got this covered, bro. We're total pros at throwing down in the kitchen, yeah?"

I shoot Leon a meaningful wink, a spark of unspoken connection passing between us. "Make sure you guys bring back plenty of glitters though. We're gonna deck these digs out proper and make this shindig unforgettable!"

I chuckle lowly, my deep voice rumbling through the cozy living room. "And hey, I might even break out my top-secret recipe for spiked nog. Plus, you know I'm the master at whipping up my signature gingerbread men. Might have to show your pop how I battering those nicely again this year, eh?"

As I say this to Alex, I catch Leon's eye and give him a subtle, knowing smirk. Memories of our heated encounters flash through my mind - the way his muscular body trembled as I claimed him, how he moaned so loudly I had to cover his mouth...

Little does sweet innocent Alex know, his macho dad is actually a secret size queen who can't get enough of my massive cock stretching him open.

At first glance, he seemed like the quintessential alpha dad - all bulging muscles, square jaw, and a commanding presence. But appearances can be deceiving. Our first time together was mind-blowing. I walked in on him working out in his own garage, sweat glistening on his chiseled physique, and things escalated quick.

Because when I revealed of my monster 13-incher, his eyes went wide. He couldn't resist. I bent him over right there in the garage and showed him what a young man could do with a cock of a bull.

Ever since then, we've been sneaking around, hooking up whenever we can get away with it, I battering his hole ‘till he would be leaked for days.

As soon as the sound of Alex and his brother's car pulling out of the driveway faded away, I turned to Leon with a hungry grin. His muscular frame filled out his tight shirt perfectly, and I could already picture peeling it off to reveal more of that sculpted torso.

"You know, it's been too long since I last had the pleasure of 'battering' up those famous gingerbread men of yours," I said suggestively, sauntering closer to him. My eyes raked appreciatively over his broad shoulders and the tantalizing curve of his ass in those jeans.

Leon swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing, but maintained his composure. "Now Tin, we shouldn't...the boys could come back anytime," he said, but there was a slight waver in his deep voice giving away his growing arousal.

Leon's resolve weakened as I approached, my predatory gaze sending shivers down his spine. He knew he should put a stop to this, maintain his image as the strapping, respectable family man. But god help him, no one made him feel as alive, as utterly consumed, as I did.

"Fuck it," he growled, closing the distance between us in two long strides. In one swift motion, he grabbed me and spun us around, pinning me against the wall. His large hands gripped my wrists above my head as he loomed over me, blue eyes dark with lust.

"You drive me crazy, you little shit," Leon panted, grinding his hips against mine. Even through our clothes, I could feel the impressive bulge straining against his zipper.

I grinned wickedly as Leon pinned me to the wall, loving how easily he overpowered me.

"Mmm, that's more like it, Daddy," I purred, arching into him. "I love it when you take control like this."

My tongue darted out to wet my lips as I stared up at him through hooded eyes. "But we both know who really ends up in charge once I whip out my big boy toy."

To emphasize my point, I rolled my hips, letting him feel the thick outline of my huge cock already straining against my jeans. Leon's breath hitched and his grip tightened on my wrists.

"Fuck, Tin..." he groaned, conflict evident on his handsome face. Pride warring with desperate, aching need.

Leon's resolve crumbled as he felt the immense, throbbing heat of my massive cock pressing insistently against him. A shudder ran through his powerful frame and he buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of my skin, musky and masculine, filled his nostrils and made his head swim with desire.

"You sick motherfucker!" he mumbled, as his hips rocked forward of their own accord, seeking more friction. One hand released my wrist to palm roughly at the obscene bulge tenting my jeans.

"You're going to be the death of me, boy," Leon rumbled, nipping sharply at my pulse point. "Having you here, tempting me with this fucking monster..." He squeezed my cock through the denim, groaning at the sheer size and hardness of it.

"Mmmm, but what a way to go, huh Daddy?" I taunted breathlessly, tilting my head to give him better access to my sensitive neck. "With my big, fat cock splitting you open and ruining you for anyone else."

My free hand slid down to palm Leon's muscular ass, squeezing the firm globe and pulling him harder against me. I could feel the scorching heat of his own impressive bulge grinding against my thigh.

"I bet you've been thinking about this since your son told you I will be coming, haven't you?"

Leon shuddered and bit back a moan as I groped his ass, the filthy words stoking the flames of his lust higher. He ground himself wantonly against my thigh, chasing more delicious friction.

"Fuck yes, I have," he admitted hoarsely, pupils blown wide with arousal. "Every dirty scenario played through my head. You walking through that door, looking at me with those sinful eyes, ready to wreck me again..."

His hand fumbled with my belt buckle, yanking it open impatiently before attacking the button and zipper of my jeans. Leon shoved a hand inside, wrapping his fingers around my enormous shaft and stroking it clumsily in his eagerness.

"Goddamn, it's even bigger than I remembered," he groaned, marveling at the thickness pulsing in his grip.

I threw my head back with a guttural moan as Leon wrapped his strong hand around my massive cock, his calloused palm providing delicious friction. Pre-cum already beaded at the tip, making the shaft slick and easier for him to stroke.

“That's it, Daddy. Get a good feel of what's gonna ruin your tight hole” I growled, my hips rocking into his touch. Can't wait to see that big, beefy ass bouncing on my cock, taking every inch like the size queen you are.

Reaching down, I palmed Leon's heavy balls through his jeans, rolling them in my hand. He let out a choked gasp, his own hips jerking forward involuntarily.

“Fuck, Tin! Your hands feel so good” Leon panted harshly, his face flushed with arousal.

I smirked as I watched Leon squirm under my touch, his macho facade cracking to reveal the desperate, cock-hungry bottom beneath. Grabbing his hair, I yanked his head back and captured his lips in a bruising kiss, all teeth and tongue as I dominated his mouth.

"On your knees, Daddy," I commanded huskily when I finally pulled back. "Time to Time to show your respect to my cock! Put that pretty mouth to work before I wreck your ass with my huge dick."

Leon whimpered but quickly sank to his knees, looking up at me with lust-darkened eyes. He nuzzled his face against the bulge still trapped in my jeans, mouthing at my cloth-covered erection.

"Now what to say before meal, good boys get to eat!" I insulted him with a look of triumph on my face.

Leon gazed up at me with a mix of reverence and desperation, his broad chest heaving with each ragged breath. Despite being on his knees, he radiated an aura of barely restrained power, the muscles in his arms flexing as he gripped my thighs.

"Please, Sir," he rumbled, voice rough with need. "Allow me the honor of worshipping your magnificent cock. I promise to use my mouth to bring you maximum pleasure."

He leaned in, dragging his tongue along the thick ridge of my erection straining against the denim. The damp patch spread as he lapped at me through the fabric, savoring my musky taste.

"I'm just a pathetic muscled whore, craving your huge dick. Please, use me however you see fit. Ruin me for anyone else."

I chuckled darkly, amused and aroused by Leon's desperate pleas. Gripping his hair tighter, I used my other hand to unzip my fly, allowing my massive cock to spring free. It slapped against Leon's face, smearing pre-cum across his cheek.

There's a good boy, I purred condescendingly. Open wide, Daddy. Let's see if that talented mouth can handle more than just sucking off your son's friends.

Leon's eyes widened at the sight of my enormous member, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.

I smirked down at Leon as my colossal 13-inch cock dwarfed his handsome face, the flared head alone nearly covering one of his chiseled cheeks. His neatly trimmed beard tickled my sensitive underside as I pressed forward, smearing sticky pre-cum across his stubble.

Leon's large, calloused hands - hands that could easily bench press 300 pounds - looked almost dainty compared to the massive shaft looming over him. His long, dexterous fingers would struggle to fully encircle my girth.

I traced the thick vein running along the top of my cock with his nose, enjoying how he had to crane his neck to accommodate my length. Even kneeling, Leon's broad, muscular shoulders and barrel chest were impressive, yet utterly dwarfed by my manhood.

"Go on, Daddy," I coaxed mockingly.

I grabbed the base of my monstrous cock, slapping the heavy shaft against Leon's face a few times, leaving streaks of pre-cum on his rugged features. His eyes fluttered shut as he savored the weight and heat of my meat smacking his cheeks.

"It's been long, right? Because seems like you forgot how to do this! You need to be open wider than that, muscle man," I taunted, rubbing the swollen tip across his full, slightly parted lips. "Wider than when you're deep-throating your son's skinny little friends."

Leon shuddered at the degrading words, a visible tremor running through his powerful frame. Slowly, he opened his mouth, stretching his jaw to its limit in an attempt to accommodate my immense girth. His tongue poked out, trying to lap at the weeping slit.

"That's it, take it deeper," I growled, pushing forward insistently.

As I pushed my enormous cock past Leon's stretched lips, his eyes watered and he gagged slightly, unused to such a massive intrusion.

His prominent Adam's apple bobbed as he struggled to swallow around my thickness, a strand of saliva connecting his lower lip to the pulsing head of my cock. Even with his mouth gaping open, only about half of my length could fit inside, the rest resting heavily on his chin.

The bulbous head of my cock stretched Leon's lips obscenely wide, his jaw popping as he struggled to relax his throat enough to take me in. The contrast between his rugged, masculine features and the way they were being reshaped to accommodate my massive shaft was incredibly erotic.

His large, strong hands came up to grip my thighs, blunt nails digging into the flesh as he steadied himself. Those same hands that could crush boulders now looked small and helpless compared to the sheer size of my member.

I watched in fascination as the thick veins running along my cock disappeared between Leon's stretched lips, his tongue writhing around the intrusion. Drool began to leak from the corners of his mouth, trickling down his stubbled chin and onto his heaving chest.

"Glad I’m come back this time to remind how this meat tastes right!?"

Leon's throat constricted around my invading cock as I thrust deeper, his Adam's apple dancing along my shaft. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes from the intense stretch, mascara beginning to run in dark rivulets down his cheeks.

Despite the overwhelming sensation, he maintained eye contact, holding my gaze with a look of submission tinged with defiance. His tongue swirled around the throbbing head each time I pulled back, lapping up the copious amounts of pre-cum leaking steadily from the tip.

One of his large hands released my thigh to wrap around the base of my cock, stroking what couldn't fit in his mouth. His calloused palm scraped deliciously along my sensitive skin, adding extra stimulation.

Leon hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard, determined to prove he could handle my immense size despite his body's protests.

And then, as a present for his effort, I hilted myself almost fully in his hot, wet mouth, my heavy balls slapping against his chin. Leon's eyes rolled back in his head. He made a muffled groan around my thickness, sending delicious vibrations through my shaft.

Despite his initial discomfort, I could feel his tongue starting to move, lapping and swirling around my sensitive flesh. His skilled mouth worked me over, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked hard.

One large hand released my thigh to wrap around the base of my cock, stroking what he couldn't fit in his mouth. His calloused palm dragged deliciously along my veiny underside.

Pulling back slightly, I let him catch his breath, a string of drool connecting his puffy lips to my spit-slick cockhead. Leon gasped, panting heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“This should make you remember how to swallow my cock, right?” I mock his suffocating state.

Leon's eyes flashed with indignation at my mocking words, even as he nodded weakly in agreement. A surge of competitive spirit seemed to overtake him.

He wrapped both large hands around the base of my cock, stroking firmly as he took a deep breath through his nose. Then, with a determined glint in his eye, he pushed forward, relaxing his throat to allow me to slide in deeper.

The wet heat engulfed me as I hilited myself fully, my pubic bone pressing against his nose. Leon swallowed convulsively around my length, his throat muscles rippling along my shaft.

Saliva dribbled down his chin as he held me there, proving he could take every inch. After a long moment, he began to bob his head, setting a steady rhythm.

Leon set a relentless pace, his head bobbing up and down my massive shaft. Wet, obscene sounds filled the room as he slurped and suckled noisily.

His hands worked in tandem with his mouth, twisting and pumping along my slick length. One thumb rubbed firm circles over the sensitive spot where my cock met my groin.

Despite the intensity of the blowjob, Leon kept his eyes locked on mine, a challenge burning in their depths. It was clear he refused to be bested by my size, determined to prove he could handle anything I dished out.

Saliva coated my cock liberally, allowing Leon to glide faster and take me impossibly deeper. With each descent, his nose nestled in my pubes, inhaling my musky scent.

Leon's tongue undulated along the underside of my cock as he deep throated me repeatedly, the tip flicking against the sensitive bundle of nerves just below the head on each upstroke.

His free hand slid down to fondle my heavy balls, rolling them gently in his palm. The dual sensations of his skilled mouth and touch had pleasure coiling tighter in my core.

Suddenly, Leon pulled off completely, a strand of saliva connecting his bottom lip to my twitching cockhead. He took a moment to catch his breath before speaking.

"I hope you realize how lucky you are to have a man like me worshipping your cock. Not many could take you like this," he said, voice rough with arousal and pride.

Without waiting for a response, he dove back in, swallowing me to the root in one smooth motion.

I allowed Leon to service me for a few more moments, savoring the feeling of his tight throat squeezing my cock. But soon, other desires took precedence.

With a grunt, I pulled out of his mouth, admiring the sight of him gasping and coughing, strings of saliva connecting his swollen lips to my spit-shined shaft.

Leon looked up at me with lust-hazed eyes, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth despite his disheveled appearance. "What's the matter, can't handle my skills?" he taunted breathlessly.

I simply chuckled, low and dark. "Oh, I can handle it just fine. But right now, I want something else."

I pointed to the kitchen counter and Leon got it right away.

Leon sauntered over to the kitchen counter, his muscular ass swaying hypnotically with each step. He bent over, bracing his forearms on the cool granite surface and spreading his powerful thighs invitingly.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he shot me a smoldering look, full of challenge and anticipation. "Well? What are you waiting for? Come claim your prize."

His voice was a low, seductive rumble. The position put his thick, juicy ass on full display, the firm globes straining against the confines of his jeans. The denim hugged the curves of his bubble butt perfectly, highlighting its roundness and fullness.

Leon reached back to pop the button of his fly, slowly dragging down the zipper with deliberate teasing.

~~

Leon hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and boxer briefs, sliding them down in tandem. The fabric pooled at his ankles as he stepped out of them, revealing a pair of smooth, tanned thighs and a pert, hairless ass.

His skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat, accentuating the definition of his muscles. The black lace thong rode low on his hips, barely covering his treasure trail. The material clung to his ass cheeks, outlining the shape of his plump, juicy globes.

Leon turned to face me fully, his strong back and broad shoulders on display. He ran a hand through his messy hair, pushing it back from his forehead, and gave me a sultry smile. "Now, are you going to admire the view or do something about it?"

I approached Leon with a predatory stride, my gaze locked onto his exposed ass. My cock throbbed in anticipation, already leaking precum in excitement.

Reaching out, I gripped his hip possessively, fingers digging into the firm muscle. My other hand trailed up his spine, savoring the warmth of his skin beneath my touch.

Leaning in close, I nuzzled into the crook of his neck, breathing in his intoxicating scent. "You're a stunning piece of man meat, Leon," I growled approvingly. "But I think we both know I'm not here to just admire."

With that, I pressed my body against his, letting him feel the full weight and heat of my desire. My hard cock ground against the cleft of his ass, seeking friction and relief.

Leon let out a soft moan as our bodies melded together, his ass grinding back against my aching cock. He tilted his head to give me better access to his neck, exposing the pulse point that raced with his growing arousal.

My hands roamed over his toned physique, mapping out the contours of his muscles. I palmed the generous swell of his ass, squeezing and kneading the firm flesh. Leon's breath hitched, and he pushed back harder against me, clearly enjoying the attention.

Breaking the kiss, I dropped to my knees behind him, my face level with his magnificent ass. I leaned in, pulling the string to the side running my tongue along the crease where his thigh met his buttocks, savoring the taste of his skin.

Leon shuddered, his hands gripping the countertop tightly. "Fuck, Tin... get that tongue on my pussy already,"

With a husky chuckle, I spread Leon's ass cheeks wide, exposing his puckered hole. I licked a slow, deliberate path around the rim, tasting the salty tang of his skin. Leon trembled, his muscles tensing as I explored every inch of his entrance.

Encouraged by his reaction, I dipped my tongue inside, relishing the warm, velvety texture of his inner walls. Leon cried out, his hips bucking back against my face as I began to lap at his prostate, circling and stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"You love having your muscled pussy eaten, don't you, Daddy?" I murmured against his skin, my voice muffled by his muscled glutes. "Can't get enough of your son's friend's tongue buried deep in your hungry hole?"

With a playful growl, I delivered a sharp smack to Leon's left cheek, the sound echoing through the room. His ass jiggled from the impact, the red mark standing out vividly against his tan skin.

"Ah! Fuck, Tin!" Leon gasped, his eyes rolling back in pleasure. "More!"

Emboldened by his reaction, I continued my oral assault while spanking him alternately, alternating between his cheeks. Each strike sent a ripple through his muscular frame, his ass flexing beautifully under my palm.

As I worked him over, I slid a finger into his stretched hole, curling it to rub against his prostate. Leon's moans grew louder, more desperate, his body trembling with the force of a bull.

I added another finger, scissoring them gently to stretch Leon's tight passage further. He groaned, his hole fluttering around my digits as I pumped them in and out, maintaining a steady rhythm.

Simultaneously, I increased the pace of my spanks, delivering rapid-fire blows that painted his ass a vibrant shade of pink. The combination of digital penetration and physical punishment drove Leon wild, his cock throbbing and leaking precum onto the countertop.

"Please, Tin... I need more," Leon panted, his voice strained with desire. "Use your cock, fill my pussy up!"

I obliged, rising to my feet and positioning myself behind Leon once more. Gripping his hips, I aligned my thick, veiny shaft with his slick entrance, rubbing the head against his hole in tantalizing circles.

"Love to hear that every time!" I said.

As I lined up my massive cock with Leon's dripping hole, my vision narrowed to focus on the impending challenge. The sheer size difference between us was daunting - my 13 inches of rigid, pulsing meat versus his snug, quivering tunnel. I could see the delicate ring of muscle straining to accommodate even the slightest intrusion.

"Open up for me Daddy!"

With a grunt, I pushed forward but his anus ring clenched reflexively, trying to push me out. Sweat beaded on my brow as I fought against the pressure, determined to breed this stud again.

My cockhead grinds against Leon's resisting ring, the tight sphincter clenching and unclenching as it tries to keep me out. I can feel the heat emanating from his hole, the wetness coating my shaft as I work it open inch by excruciating inch.

"Fucking hell, you're still so tight, Daddy!" I grunt, sweat dripping down my forehead from the exertion. "Take it all, you were made for my cock!"

Each push forward meets resistance, Leon's body fighting the invasion. But I'm relentless, driven by the primal urge to claim him fully. I lean forward, bracing my hands on either side of his hips as I surge forward, my heavy balls swing forcefully with each powerful thrust.

"I've got you, just relax and take it," I encourage, my voice strained with the effort.

"oh Gosh... it's soo big... no matter how many times you fuck me!" Leon trembling said.

I continue to push forward, my thick cock slowly forcing its way into Leon's tight heat. The sensation is incredible, his inner walls gripping me like a vice as I inch deeper.

"Fuck yeah, Daddy, take every inch," I growl, my breath hot against his ear. "Your hole was made for my fat cock."

Finally, with one last Herculean push, the head of my dick pops past the final hurdle and sinks into Leon's welcoming warmth. A rush of relief and triumph washes over me as I bottom out, my pubic bone pressing against his muscular ass.

Leon lets out a long, shuddering exhale, his body going limp beneath mine. "Ahn... f-ffuck, it hurts so much boy!"

I hold still for a moment, savoring the feeling of my apple-sized cock head being completely sheathed within him.

I pause, allowing Leon to adjust to the fullness, his body gradually relaxing around my girth. The heat envelops me, his tight channel massaging my sensitive flesh. I can feel every twitch and spasm of his inner muscles as they learn to accept my impressive size.

Slowly, deliberately, I begin to rock my hips, grinding my cockhead against his prostate. Leon's eyes roll back, a low moan escaping his lips as pleasure courses through him. His hands grip the counter, knuckles turning white as he struggles to maintain balance against the onslaught of sensations.

"Easy there, Daddy," I whisper, my breath hot against his ear. "Let me take care of you."

I start to move with measured strokes, withdrawing until just the tip remains before plunging back in.

With each deliberate thrust, I ease more of my thick length into Leon's willing body. His velvety walls stretch and mold around me, gradually accepting my girth. Sweat drips down our entwined forms as I work him open, inch by agonizing inch.

"F-fuck, Tin..." Leon pants, his voice husky with desire. "You're so deep... Ahh, right there!"

I grin, pleased at his reaction. "That's it, Daddy, let me fill you up." I increase my pace, hips snapping forward in a steady rhythm. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by Leon's ragged breathing and moans of pleasure.

As I near the hilt, Leon's eyes glaze over, his body tensing like a coiled spring.

I slide the final few inches of my cock into Leon's clutching heat, burying myself to the root. We both groan at the intensity, his prostate stimulated perfectly by my thick girth.

"Ungh, fuck yes," I hiss, my hips pressed flush against his muscular ass.

Leon's face contorts in ecstasy, his mouth open in a silent scream. His cock throbs against his belly, pre-cum leaking from the tip as he teeters on the brink of orgasm. But I want to draw it out, make him suffer the sweet agony of denial.

I start to move, withdrawing almost completely before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace designed to push him over the edge. The force of my thrusts rocks Leon's substantial frame, his breasts jiggling with each impact.

Leon's strength gives out, his massive torso crashing onto the countertop as I pound into him mercilessly. His arms flail uselessly, hands scrabbling for purchase as he's overwhelmed by the relentless stimulation.

I grab his hips, using them as handles to rail him even harder. The kitchen echoes with the slap of flesh and Leon's desperate whimpers. Beads of sweat fly off my brow, stinging my eyes as I lose myself in the primal act of claiming this dominant man so thoroughly.

Leon's cock twitches wildly, a string of precum connecting the tip to the tile floor. He's teetering on the edge, his entire being focused on the impending release. But I won't allow it – not yet. I want to see him break, to witness the mighty Leon reduced to a quivering, cumless mess at my mercy no matter how many times I had witnessed it.

"Look at you, Leon," I sneer, my breath hot against his ear. "The big, bad daddy who takes advantage of his own sons, only to come crawling to their friends for a taste of your own medicine."

I grind my hips, making sure he feels every thick inch of my cock stretching him open. "Did you beg them to bring me here, Daddy?"

"No… but but… Please, Tin, please keep fuck me!" Leon gasps, his voice strained with desperation. "I need it so badly! I've been dreaming about your huge cock splitting me open since last summer when you didn't come back here to us as you promised." He squirms beneath me, his massive body trembling with anticipation.

"Broken promises, huh?" I chuckle darkly, giving Leon's ass a hard smack. "Looks like the shoe's on the other foot now, doesn't it? You sent those boys off on a wild goose chase while you got your tight muscled pussy wrapped around my 13-inch cock."

I pull out suddenly, leaving Leon empty and whimpering. He tries to reach back for me, but I step away, letting him feel the cool air on his dripping hole. "I think I want to see you get yourself up and ride on my cock again! Show me if those muscles could even do the deed!"

I gesture for Leon to climb down from the counter. I watched Leon carefully make his way off the kitchen counter, his movements unsteady as he stood on wobbly legs. He knew exactly what I wanted, and he was eager to comply.

Once He stood before me like a mountain, with his legs spread wide, I grasped his hips firmly, guiding my thick cock back into his tight heat. A low groan escaped his lips as I felt him stretch to accommodate me once more.

Then I held his ass with 1 hand, the other guiding him to lower his torso onto his hand. And now with Leon on all fours and his legs splayed wide, I gave a few experimental thrusts, reveling in the feeling of my shaft sliding effortlessly in and out of his well-worn passage. The angle was perfect, allowing me to penetrate deep while still maintaining contact.

"Good daddy! Now to the Living room." With Leon positioned just how I liked, I started moving, each step sending my cock plunging in and out of his slick, welcoming hole.

As we walked, Leon's moans filled the air, echoing off the walls. His massive frame trembled with each powerful thrust, his heavy breasts bouncing with the movement. I reveled in the sight, watching my cock disappear into his stretched hole only to emerge glistening with precum and his own juices.

Leon's face contorted in pleasure, his eyes rolling back as he pushed his ass back to meet my steps. "Oh god, yes! Fuck me harder, Tin!" he cried out, his voice hoarse with desire. "Claim this pussy as yours!"

I grinned, picking up the pace. Each stride became a brutal, pounding rhythm, driving my cock deeper into Leon's guts. The living room came into view, but I barely noticed, lost in the primal dance of flesh and lust.

"Fuck, Leon, this is one hell of a workout!" I grunt sarcastically as we stumble into the living room, our sweaty bodies entwined. "Maybe I should start coming over more often for some quality exercise."

Leon just moans in response, his massive form shaking with the force of my thrusts. We're both a mess - hair disheveled, clothes torn, skin glistening with sweat. But the look of pure bliss on Leon's face makes it all worth it.

As I continue to pound into him, I catch sight of the Christmas decorations scattered across the room. Garlands, lights, and ornaments seem to mock me, reminding me of the festive gathering we were supposed to prepare for. But right now, all I can focus on is the incredible sensation of my cock splitting Leon open, over and over again.

Panting heavily, I collapse onto the sofa, yanking Leon down with me. "Alright, Daddy Bear, you can put that mouthy ass on my 13-inch log" I sneer, gripping his hips roughly. "Time for you to be in charge."

Leon's eyes widen as he straddles my lap, my massive cock throbbing against his slick hole. He reaches down, grasping my thick shaft and lining it up with his entrance. With a deep breath, he sinks down, engulfing me in his hot, tight depths.

"Ohhh fuck..." Leon groans, his face twisting in a mix of pain and pleasure as he adjusts to my size. Once he's fully seated, he starts to move, rising up until just the tip remains inside him before slamming back down.

"Take it, you fucking slut," I growl, my hands digging into his muscular thighs. "Ride my cock like the dirty little whore you are."

 Leon's gaze locks with mine, his expression a twisted mask of submission and desperation. "Yes... gosh... wreck my pussy!"

My eyes roam over Leon's magnificent body, drinking in the sight of his bulging biceps, rippling abs, and the way his massive pecs bounce with each downward plunge. Sweat glistens on his skin, making him shine under the living room lights. I can feel every muscle clenching around my cock as he rides me, milking me with his tight, slick heat.

"You're such a beautiful piece of meat, Leon," I hiss, reaching up to grope his heavy breasts through his torn shirt. "Love seeing you degrade yourself on my dick."

Leon just whimpers, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he grinds himself against me. "Fuck yeah, Tin... use me... ruin me..."

My fingers twist in his nipples, tugging hard as I piston my hips upward to meet his relentless pace.

I grab Leon's plump ass, squeezing the firm globes as I push my cock up from beneath, spearing him even deeper. My other hand mauls his heavy breast, pinching and twisting the sensitive nipple while my mouth descends to suckle its twin.

Leon lets out a guttural moan, his massive body shuddering as I dominate him completely. "Shit, Tin... your cock... it's destroying me..." he gasps between ragged breaths.

My thoughts flick to Alex and Ethan, who should be returning from their holiday shopping any moment now. A surge of urgency courses through me, spurring me to increase my tempo. I slam into Leon with reckless abandon, determined to bring us both to climax before they arrive home.

Leon meets each brutal thrust with an equally forceful buck of his hips, his massive frame quaking with the effort. "Fuck, yes! Give it to me, Tin!" he roars, his voice echoing off the walls. "Fill me up!"

The sound of Leon's impassioned cries mingles with the slap of sweaty skin and the creaking of the furniture as our bodies collide in a frenzy of lust. I can feel my orgasm building, the base of my cock tingling with anticipation.

Suddenly, Leon's movements become erratic, his inner walls fluttering wildly around my shaft. "I'm... gonna cum!" he grits out, his massive chest heaving. "Do it, Tin! Breed me!"

With a primal grunt, I bury myself to the hilt and unleash a torrent of hot seed deep inside him. Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over me as I fill Leon with my essence, marking him as mine.

With a triumphant roar, I bury myself to the hilt inside Leon's spasming depths. My cock throbs violently as I unleash a torrent of hot semen deep within him, breeding him once again. Each pulse of my orgasm seems to go on forever, painting his insides with thick ropes of cum.

Leon's massive body shakes uncontrollably, his huge breasts jiggling as he screams in ecstasy. "Yes, fuck! Fill me up, Tin! Use me like your personal cumdump!"

As the final spurts of my release trickle out, I slowly withdraw my softening cock from Leon's stretched hole. A river of pearly white fluid pours out after it, coating Leon's thighs and dripping onto the floor. He collapses beside me, panting heavily, his once proud demeanor shattered by the degradation of being thoroughly fucked and bred.

"Look at you," I say with a smirk, gesturing to the mess of cum smeared across Leon's muscular pussy and his thighs. "Such a pretty sight, aren't you? Filled to the notch with my seed, used and defiled."

And below, I could see that black thong was soaked with a bunch of Leon's pre-cum and sperm

Leon's face twists in a mix of shame and arousal, his eyes glazed over as he stares at the semen oozing from his gaping asshole. "Fuck, Tin... you really know how to break a man," he admits hoarsely.

I chuckle, standing up and offering him a hand to help him up. "Glad my 13-inch cock still can please you!" I tease, patting his broad shoulder. "Now let's get cleaned up before the boys get back. I think you wouldn't want them to see their dad looking like this."

Leon takes my hand, wincing slightly as he rises to his feet. His knees buckle momentarily, but I steady him, keeping a firm grip on his muscular arm. Together, we make our way to the bathroom, leaving a trail of cum and sweat behind us.

Once inside, I turn on the shower, adjusting the temperature to a comfortable warmth. As the water starts to run, I guide Leon under the spray, letting the liquid soap wash away the evidence of our depraved activities.

"You're still so hard, Tin," he remarked, noticing my erection bobbing against his thigh. "Maybe another round before we clean up?" I suggest with a wicked grin, reaching out to stroke my rigid length.

Leon's eyes darken with desire, and he nods eagerly. "Yeah, give me that cock again, Tin. I need more of your cum inside me."

And sure, we had like about 30 minutes for me to breed that stud again.

It was a chilly winter evening, Christmas Eve, when we all gathered in the living room. The fireplace crackled with warmth, casting a cozy glow over the room as fairy lights twinkled on the Christmas tree. Alex and Ethan, bundled up in festive pajamas, wrestled playfully over a brightly wrapped present. Leon, his eyes sparkling with amusement, sat on the couch, a mug of hot cocoa warming his hands. It was a picture of Christmas perfection, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness fill my chest.

As the night wore on, I couldn't resist teasing Leon with a sly wink. "Hey buddy, guess what I've been working on all day?" I asked Alex, a mischievous glint in my eye. "I finally perfected my special Christmas batter recipe."

Alex's eyes widened, and he turned to me with a curious expression. "Really, Tin? What's in it?"

I spoke with a low and clear. "Well, let's just say it involves a lot of love, care, and a lot of help from your dad!"

Leon's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, but he managed a strained chuckle. "Oh ho ho, very funny, Tin. But don't forget, it takes two to tango – or in this case, bater this cake."

Ethan giggled at the playful banter, while Alex seemed intrigued, asking, "So, Tin, will you show us your secret ingredient sometime?"

I grinned, giving Leon a knowing look. "I don't think your dad wants me to show it haha. But little spoiler, your dad loves my secret ingredient so much, that it was filling his guts for the whole time I made it!" Leon choked on his drink when I said that.

Ethan snickered at his father's awkwardness, while Alex just grinned, eager to hear more about the mysterious batter. Little did they know the real 'batter' Leon and I had in mind was the one currently still churning inside Leon's guts, courtesy of their sluty dad and my 13-inch cock.

And so, asthe evening drew to a close, we settled in for a cozy movie marathon, snuggled up beneath blankets with hot cocoa in hand. Despite the lingering tension between Leon and me, the atmosphere remained warm and inviting. It was a perfect Christmas Eve, filled with love, laughter, and the promise of many more happy memories to come. 

~~

~~

°

[steddie-island]

Vixen

A (late) @steddiemas day 24 - For Someone Special (NSFW Gifts) WC: 2894 | Rating: E | Tags: Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington, Steve wears lingerie, Eddie has a filthy mouth Find the full list of tags on ao3.

No matter how many times they did this, how many times he did this, it always made Steve’s stomach twitch with nerves. Even after eight years together he was afraid of the rejection, that he would do something that made Eddie look at him and re-consider all of his life choices. It wasn’t as bad as it used to be, but the nerves were still there . 

He pushed past the nerves like he did every other time, though, and zipped his jeans into place. They had a Christmas Eve party to go to, where they would spend the night around their friends and family and he would have to act like everything was completely normal. 

“Babe, are you ready?” Eddie asked as he tugged on his ugly Christmas sweater– a bright green thing with little lightbulbs all over it that actually lit up. 

Steve tugged his own ugly sweater on– a bulky red thing with Rudolph’s head on it, with a big red nose right in the middle of his chest that glowed brightly and bells all around Rudolph’s harness. “Ready.” “God, you’re so fucking cute.” Eddie pulled him in and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “C’mon, let’s go. If we’re late, Robin might make us drive the kids home again.”

“They’re not kids anymore, Ed. They’re adults. They’re adults that can drink,” Steve chuckled. Still, he followed Eddie to the front door, where they grabbed their coats before heading outside. The party was in full swing when they showed up. One group was decorating cookies at one end of the table while another group worked to put gingerbread houses together. Everyone had on their own ugly sweaters, and Dustin had light up reindeer antlers to accompany his own, which had 3-D ornaments hanging off of it. They were immediately pulled into the activities. Eddie was dragged to the gingerbread house building station while Robin pulled Steve to the kitchen so they could make more cookies. 

It was warm, and cheery, and everything that Steve had ever wanted Christmas to be. There was a part of him that ached, because it wasn’t the Christmas he’d had as a kid, but he had it now, with Eddie and Wayne and Robin and the kids that had all managed to make it here for the holiday even though they were scattered across the country now. It was enough to have him fighting back tears as he mixed up more cookie dough. “Dingus, haven’t I told you you’re not allowed to cry on Christmas?” Robin teased. She pulled him in for a tight hug, and if she was blinking her own tears away when their hug broke, that was no one else’s business.

They had dinner, and then everyone piled into the living room to open gifts. There were new books for Robin, records for Eddie– even though CDs had long since outsold vinyls. Steve had a new sweater, one hand knitted by Claudia that he hugged to his chest as everyone else opened their gifts. There were mountains of wrapping paper by the time they were finished. Steve once more got up to help clean up. It wasn’t something he was expected to do, but something he did anyway. He liked helping, being useful. Eddie curled around him when Steve took his seat again and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” he said, smiling against that golden skin. “Have I mentioned that?” “Once or twice.” Steve pressed his lips to Eddie’s and caught his hand. “Are you having a good Christmas? Have you enjoyed your presents?” “It’s been… amazing.” Eddie grinned at him. “They’ve all been amazing with you, Steve.” Steve pecked Eddie’s lips. “This one isn’t over yet,” he said. At Eddie’s raised eyebrows he just smiled. “You’ll see when we get home.” “Will I now?” Eddie looked at him, clearly wanting at least a hint. Steve just grinned and tucked even deeper into Eddie’s side. 

The party ended shortly after that, when everyone was yawning and eyelids were droopy. There were lots of hugs, kisses on the cheek, wishes of Merry Christmas and drive safe. That was one of Steve’s favorite parts, hearing all the love as they all went their separate ways. He hated the leaving, but all that love always made it more than worth it.

************************

“Where’s my other gift?” Eddie asked as soon as they were on the road. “ What’s my other gift?” 

“Has anyone told you that patience is a virtue?” Steve teased. 

“Yeah, and you of all people should know that I’ve never been very virtuous, Steve.” Eddie reached over to take his hand. “C’mon, I wanna know.” “Okay, okay. I’ll give you a hint.” He brought Eddie’s hand under the hem of his sweater, then pushed his fingers down… down… just past the waistband of his jeans, to where they could both feel the silky fabric underneath. The choked sound Eddie made brought heat into Steve’s cheeks. 

“Jesus, baby. You’ve been wearing those all night?” he asked, eyes flicking over to Steve’s face. “Fuck… you’re gonna kill me.” “You haven’t even seen them yet.” Steve grinned as his nerves melted away, the way they always did when he got to see Eddie’s reaction. 

“Don’t have to see them to know that I want to take them off with my teeth, do I?” 

Heat pooled low in Steve’s belly. “Try not to tear them this time?” 

“No promises, sweetheart.”

************************

They managed to get through the doors and to get their coats and scarves hung up before Eddie was on him. Cold hands slipped beneath his shirt, making him yelp. It was swallowed down by Eddie’s mouth as his back was pressed against the wall. Those hands he loved dipped beneath the waistband of his jeans to grip his ass through the fabric of the panties. “I want to see these.” Eddie was practically panting with need. He was hard and hot, and when he rolled his hips Steve could feel the evidence of his desire against his hip. 

“Take me upstairs,” Steve encouraged. “Wanna show you. They’re so pretty, Eddie.” He buried his fingers into his boyfriend’s hair and groaned as those sharp teeth dug into his throat. There would be bruises in the morning, for the next few days. His chest thrummed at the idea, and he lifted a leg to pull Eddie closer. “Eddie, baby–” 

Eddie broke away with a growl and grabbed Steve’s hand. They tripped over their feet as they hurried upstairs and into their bedroom. “I wanna see,” he breathed. “Wanna touch. Fuck, Steve, you know what you do to me?” He pushed at Steve’s stupid fucking sweater, tossed it into a corner of the room where the red nose would glow for the rest of the night. He nudged Steve back onto the bed and leaned over him. “You’re so fucking pretty, sweetheart. Wanna get a look at those panties, and then I’m gonna suck your cock in them.” “Eddie–” Steve trembled as nimble fingers got his jeans open and down. Eddie didn’t stop there, he tugged Steve’s shoes off, tugged the jeans off of his legs, and when he looked up it was a million fucking wonders that he didn’t come in his jeans. “Oh, Jesus, sweetheart. You made yourself so pretty for me, didn’t you?” The panties were red satin, with white lace where they were cut up on Steve’s hips. The fabric dug in there, and Eddie had the desire to sink his teeth into those divots. Steve was still so strong, but he’d softened a little and Eddie was more than a little in love with it. He didn’t have time to worship those hips, though, because coming down from the panties were clips that held up red thigh highs with white lace trim. 

“I’m gonna eat you up.” Eddie ran his hands up Steve’s calves, to his thighs, and leaned in to nose at his cock. There was already a wet spot against the fabric from how wet Steve was. “I”m gonna tear you apart, Stevie.” 

“Eddie–” Steve gasped as Eddie’s teeth found his thigh, just above where the stocking ended. “Oh god – I’m all yours. Want you so bad, sweetheart. Fuck .” Eddie growled as he pulled off, only to latch on to the same spot on the other thigh. He hummed as he sucked and worked his teeth. Every moan and whimper that spilled out of Steve’s lips spurred him on. When he pulled off there were two matching bruises left behind. “Gonna take care of you. You’re my beautiful boy, aren’t you?” “Yes,” Steve practically sobbed. “Fuck, Eddie, need you to touch me.” His legs were pulled over Eddie’s shoulders, and then Eddie’s mouth was on his cock, further soaking the fabric. “Please, please–” “Beg so pretty. You beg so fucking pretty, sweetheart.” Eddie groaned and ran his hands up Steve’s body. “You’re so beautiful.” “Eddie,” he whimpered. “Please–” Just like he’d promised, Eddie tugged the material down, down, until Steve’s cock was free. “Gonna fuck you,” he breathed. “Gonna make you see stars with my mouth, and then we’re gonna make sure the neighbors file a noise complaint.” “Eddie!” Steve cried out as Eddie’s mouth found his cock and began tonguing at the head. He wasn’t sure what he liked more, the way Eddie spewed filth like he was made for it or the way he sucked dick. Before Steve could really distract himself with a debate, Eddie took him in, swallowed him all the way down and sucked hard. 

“Oh god –” Tears pricked Steve’s eyes as Eddie worked him over. Deeper, with his tongue and his hands and just the barest hint of teeth dragging over the head of his cock. “Eddie– Eddie–” 

Eddie just hummed around him and looked up through those long lashes. Steve would never get tired of seeing the love of his life looking at him so adoringly. His hand caught Eddie’s where it rested against his hip to hold him in place. He’d been keyed up since the car, and actually having Eddie’s hands on him was pushing him closer to the edge. “Not gonna last much longer,” he breathed. 

Eddie bobbed his head, and with every movement that pulled him off of Steve’s cock he used one hand to keep stroking. His movements were tight and quick. Steve came with his free hand buried in Eddie’s hair and his back bowing off of the bed. 

“Fuck– fuck fuck Eddie –” Eddie swallowed him down the way he’d done a million times before. Only when Steve's sounds started changing from pleasure to a little pained did he pull off. 

“Kiss me?” Steve panted. He caressed Eddie’s cheek, over to his lips. “Please?”

Eddie slowly kissed up Steve’s body, over the soft expanse of his stomach and up towards his chest. At Steve’s neck he pressed a kiss to the hickey he’d left earlier. “Love doing that for you,” he breathed. “Love hearing the way you say my name.” He caught Steve’s mouth with a hum, and when those pretty lips parted he pressed inside, giving Steve a taste of himself. “Love you , sweetheart. All of you.” He ghosted his hand down Steve’s side and to his thigh. “I love you, too.” Steve nipped Eddie’s lower lip. “Know how much I love you?” Eddie hid his smile in Steve’s neck as he nipped at more of that beautiful skin. “How much, baby?”

“I love you so much that I still want you to fuck me even though you’re still wearing that stupid Christmas sweater.” He flicked one of the lightbulbs that was flashing up by Eddie’s ear. 

Eddie laughed bright and loud as he straightened up. He tugged the sweater off and tossed it in the general direction of Rudolph. “Better?” “Much.” Steve pulled Eddie back in to kiss him slow and deep. His fingers trailed over all of that tattooed skin to bring their bodies closer together. He wanted more, always wanted more, but just getting to kiss and touch Eddie was always good. 

Eddie ground down against him, reminding them both that he was still hard in the confines of his jeans. “I have another promise to keep,” he murmured into Steve’s mouth. Steve shivered and leaned up for a kiss. “And I have another present for you.” He nipped Eddie’s lower lip. “Do you want me to show it to you or do you want to find it yourself?”

Eddie all but growled into his mouth again. “I’m telling you, you’re trying to kill me,” he murmured. He stood up to shuck out of the rest of his clothes. “They better put Death by Steve Harrington on my tombstone.” “Stop talking about dying and get over here,” he said, and he nudged Eddie with his foot. “I wanna kiss you more.” 

“So impatient, Stevie.” Eddie found the garter clips and unfastened them easily so he could tug the panties down but leave the stockings on. His lips trailed over Steve’s calf and up that beautiful thigh again. A glistening silver thing caught his eye and he choked on air again. “Oh. Oh, sweetheart. You’ve been wearing this all night?” 

Wandering fingers slipped up, up, between Steve’s thighs and then his cheeks. The plug was warm and wide against Steve’s skin. 

“All day.” Steve held himself open for Eddie’s viewing pleasure. “Put it in after my shower this morning.” “Christ.” Eddie gripped the plug and began working it against Steve’s rim, causing him to twitch and whine. “You’re fucking perfect. Made for me, weren’t you, sweetheart? You’re my good boy.” Steve rocked towards Eddie’s hand with another sound. “Please, Eddie. Been waiting for you all day. I need you.” “I know you do, sweetheart.” He tugged the plug out to the widest point, pushed it back in, back and forth to get more of those beautiful sounds. “I can see you now, opening yourself up in the shower and putting this thing in. Did you come then, Steve? Did you come thinking about me fucking you tonight?” “ Yes –” Steve’s thighs twitched. “Eddie, Eddie please, I need it, I need you, stop playing with me please –” It was so fucking much and yet not enough to get him off again. “Fuck me, please–” Eddie pulled the plug out once more, this time letting it come out all the way. His eyes were darker than ever as he slotted himself between Steve’s thighs and lined up against his hole. Steve watched those eyes as Eddie got situated, as his legs were over Eddie’s arms– As Eddie began working inside with quick, shallow thrusts that had his breath coming out in small puffs. The plug had been wide, but Eddie was wider. There was an initial burn, there always was, but it quickly melted away into pleasure so strong that Steve did cry then. 

There was no time to beg Eddie to move, to beg him to do something. Steve was essentially folded in half with the angle they were at. Eddie caught his mouth in a sloppy kiss. His hips began rolling quickly, speeding up until he pounded into Steve’s body with a rhythm that had them both gasping. 

Steve’s blunt nails slipped over Eddie’s back, his ass, his arms as he tried his best to hold on. The pleasure was just so intense, and he was losing it fast. The angle had Eddie so deep in his body, and the way the head of his cock kept dragging over Steve’s prostate was enough to deliver on the promise to see stars. 

They held on together, rocked together. Eddie cursed against Steve’s mouth, and when he wasn’t cursing he was letting words like “good boy” and “beautiful” slip out. Every word of praise felt like it was branded into Steve’s skin. Eddie always did that to him, too. He didn’t doubt whether he was good, or deserving, or loved with Eddie. 

Even though he’d already gotten off once, his second orgasm didn’t take long. It swept through and over him in waves. He sobbed Eddie’s name and left pink scratches over the parts of him that weren’t tattooed. 

“Steve–” Eddie bit down on Steve’s lower lip as he buried himself. The tightening of Steve’s body pulled Eddie over the edge, had him coming deep inside of this man he loved so much. 

When it was over he released Steve’s legs and fell to the bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but neither man was sure if their legs would hold them up long enough to move. 

“Best present ever,” Eddie murmured into Steve’s neck. 

Steve grinned and kissed his sweat damp hair. “Yeah? You liked it?”

“Love it.” He pressed kisses into Steve’s jaw. “Did you? Was it too much?” “Never.” Steve turned his head to catch Eddie’s lips in another kiss. “It was perfect.”

It took a few minutes, but once they were sure their legs would hold them they got up and made their way to the bathroom to clean up. They dressed in their matching pajamas that Wayne had gotten for them Christmas the year before and slipped beneath the covers together, with Eddie’s head tucked into Steve’s neck. 

“I love you,” Steve murmured into his hair. 

“Love you, too.” Eddie squeezed him tight. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

“Merry Christmas, Eds.” 

[pigeonfactory]

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓝𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽

Blah. I really need to post on here. So let’s start with an old short thing I did a while back. Kind of bleh.

—

Cold.

Why am I so.. cold?

I wake up alone, laying in sheets of snow so cold it blisters my skin. I wear no jacket, no jeans. Simply a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that reads “The Beatles”. Converse sneakers run in dirt, snow and blood. Where am I?

Everything I see is dark, dark, and darker still. Thick snow runs alongside a river. Chunks of ice swim in deep blue as fog dances over top. I almost think I can see light beyond it. A bright white light. The other direction is less friendly. Towering trees which look like they might reach out and grab me, shading the forest in a pitch black hue. Twisty and statuesque, I would hate to be a lumberjack. The shadows are uninviting. I hear the whispers of things no living person should be able to. And yet… I feel the urge to wander into it grow. Something is pulling me in, is it the trees?

So, I walk. No, not into the trees, not yet. Just along the river. I have no clue what I’m doing all the way out here, and I have no idea who I am. What I do know is that I am inappropriately dressed for the cold, and I like The Beatles. I’m not sure how far that’s going to get me. But as I continue to walk, I realize something. Something strange. I’m no longer cold. Every step I take makes me feel warmer. Despite the location and state of dress. After a few more steps it is unbearably warm. But I don’t have any extra clothing to abandon. So I keep walking.

I cannot tell how long I’ve been walking for now. Maybe it’s hours, or maybe it’s days. Weeks? My brain becomes hazy, and I stumble as I walk. I reach into my brain, desperately grappling on to any and all memories I can resurface. I can remember a few things. I remember… my 17th birthday, my favorite jacket I had ruined at a party, a bracelet I always wore. Except for now, apparently, whenever now is. I grip the wrist that holds the memory of the jewelry, the left one, and continue to walk.

Now, I end up somewhere I don’t recognize. It feels familiar but I can’t recognize it amidst the snow. I feel angry. What is it I can’t recognize? It’s a house. A small bungalow with Christmas decorations in the front yard. It’s along a row of other houses, but this is the one I am drawn to. Warm light seeps out of the windows and into the night sky, And much like a moth, I approach.

Up the pretty stone pathway, past the lopsided snowman and up onto the rickety wood porch. I look inside. I see a family. A young boy in a red sweater, making gingerbread cookies with a kind blonde woman. A slightly older girl with her hair in braids, decorating a christmas tree with a man in a.. business suit? Cheerful laughter rings through my ears despite the walls, and I realize I recognize this family.

The little boy turns and looks out the window I stand in, and I wave, trying not to startle him. But my body is glass, and he sees right through me. He turns to the woman, and tugs on her dress.

“Mommy, I heard something outside.”

“It’s probably just the wind, buddy,” She coos lovingly, patting his head. “Nothing to be worried about.”

“But.. What about Amy? When is she coming back?”

“Don’t worry about her, sport,” The dad chimes in. “You know your sister can take care of herself. I’ll bet you she’s on her way back here right now.”

These words fill me with dread. I scream. Or rather, I try to. I bang on the window, I cry. But they can’t hear me and there’s no way for me to warn them…

That Amy is never coming back.

[wesxevans]

[cisman, he/him] Welcome to Aurora Bay, [WESTLEY "WES" EVANS]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET]. You must be the [TWENTY-SIX] year old [WAITSTAFF AT NEPTUNE AND STUDENT]. Word is you’re [INTELLIGENT] but can also be a bit [CLOSED OFF] and your favorite song is [TAKE ME BACK TO EDEN BY SLEEP TOKEN]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [SEABROOK QUARTER]. I’m sure you’ll love it! 

Muse inspo:

Spotify Playlist || Pinterest Board

Basic info:

Name: Westley Alexandre Michel Evans

Nicknames: Wes

Age: 26

Birthday: October 24, 1998

Zodiac: Scorpio

Hometown: Salem, Massachusetts

Time in Aurora Bay: 2 years

Current residency: Seabrook Quarter

Occupation: Waitstaff at Neptune

Education: high school diploma, current student at Aurora Bay College (Early Childhood Education)

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Gender: Cisman

Pronouns: He/him/his

Relationship Status: Married

Faceclaim: Timothée Chalamet

Languages: English as first language, fluent in French

Family: 

Father: Laurence Evans (American)

Mother: Ada Evans (French)

Older brother: wc on main

Twin sister: Evangeline Caine Evans

Little sister: Amelia Evans

Little brother: Lucas Evans (npc)

Wife: Liza Evans

Daughter: Elise Evans

Pet(s): white British long hair cat named Aurora, black Bombay cat named Salem (he's Liza's cat), brown stray kitten named Gingerbread Cookie

Father-in law: James Levin

Sister-in law: Sterling Levin

Niece: Sunny Levin

Nephews: Benjamin Caine and Kai Levin-O’Connell

Elise:

Full name: Elise Agnes Evans

Age: 1

Birthday: October 3, 2023

Mother: Liza Evans

Appearance:

Height: 6’0

Eye color: hazel

Hair: curly and brown

Body Type: lean, slightly muscular. Reference photos: BACK, STOMACH

Tattoos: Spider on stomach, small butterfly on right wrist, strawberry on left wrist

Piercings: smiley, ear piercings

Scars: one over his left eyebrow, scars on his back

Bio:

Trigger warnings: abuse, alcoholism

Westley Alexandre Evans and his twin sister were born to Laurence and Ada Evans on October 24, 1998, in Salem, Massachusetts.  Ada was known around their neighborhood for being so sweet and friendly, while Laurence was known as one of the officers of the SPD. Wes was their quiet but intelligent son, who was the top of his classes and was complimented for his talents as a young pianist. On the outside, the Evans were a perfect little family, and they were, for a while.

There was no way to forget the first night it happened, the yelling and sound of glass breaking, along with the feeling of the sharp pieces of glass cutting into his face as the bottle shattered against him. It was seared into Wes’s mind, and he had a scar on his left eyebrow to show for it. The abuse only got worse for Wes and he's received more scars for worse things on his back. Laurence had always been an angry man but after a traumatic night on the force, Laurence was never the same. He drank until he became so poisonous and cruel that he was nearly unbearable to be around, and no matter how many people’s suspicions grew that something wasn’t quite right, no one did anything. 

Ada stayed, and Wes could never understand why. Years went by, and there was nothing left in Wes but a cavity, one that only seemed to be filled by anger and loneliness. He got into fights at school because he just couldn’t tame his anger any longer, and he lost his virginity at sixteen, hoping to fill the void with something— hoping to feel anything that wasn’t loneliness or sadness...wanting to feel loved in any way. And even though it was a fleeting feeling of warmth and fulfillment, he still went after it, sleeping around and hoping one day the pain wouldn’t come back afterwards.

When Wes turned eighteen, he wanted to do something about Laurence, but all his attempts were failed ones. The SPD were friends of Laurence’s and given that Wes didn’t have the cleanest record with them, they discarded his concerns. And while Wes’s Aunt was constantly calling him and telling him that if he ever needed anything, she wouldn’t hesitate to fly him out to Aurora Bay, he couldn’t bring himself to take her up on it. Because Ada stayed, Wes stayed. He wanted to make sure she was okay. 

Years passed by, and one day Ada was gone. She’d finally left Laurence, but not only him, she’d left Wes. With nowhere else to turn to and no one left to protect, Wes called his aunt and took her up on her offer to fly him out to Aurora Bay.

Wes’s Aunt helped get him all settled into town, helping him get an apartment of his own, and a job as a waiter at Neptune since she was such great friends with the owner, James Levin. 

Now Wes is trying to create a new life for himself in Aurora Bay while trying to leave behind his painful past. During the last two years of his residency in Aurora Bay, he has gotten married to Liza Evans, has a daughter named Elise, and has a second child on the way. Every day he strives to be something good and far from what his father was.

@aurorabayaesthetic

[softlycandescent]

𝐺𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝐶𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑠

This is part of my holiday challenge where I write prompts!

Today's is: Gingerbread House! This ended up being a sweet hurt comfort more than anything else but I think that fits sweet xixi and vyn more than anything else <33

Xiaoxi groaned for what felt like the millionth time that afternoon. With a helpless sigh, she slams down her failed tray of gingerbread. This time instead of undercooking it, she’d overcooked it, it was way too crisp to work with, not to mention it probably tastes awful. 

Just as she was about to forget the idea completely, a pair of warm arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her back from the messy counter.

“Sweetheart,” Vyn only hugged her tighter when she tried to wiggle back to the counter, her smaller hands reaching back for the gingerbread crumbs. “What’s wrong?”

“I was going to make my students a big gingerbread house.” Xiaoxi explained, her lips forming into an exaggerated pout. “But, I’m a failure! Look, no matter how many times I try, it’s awful! I’m never going to bake anything ever again!”

“Xiaoxi, darling.” The seriousness of her lover’s soft voice drew her attention to him immediately. “You are  a lot of things, sweetie. You’re ambitious, stubborn, and certainly adorable. However, a failure is the one thing you are not.”

Vyn leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips was enough to momentarily quiet her anxious thoughts.. Or, well, all thoughts at all really. 

She hardly noticed that a smile had found its way on her face.

“So let’s see about your gingerbread, when did you want to bring this to your class?”

“Next week, but at this rate, it might not get ready. Look, this one is burned, this one is super undercooked, this one doesn’t even taste right, I don’t even know what I’m doing wrong.”

Vyn offered her a comforting gentle smile and spun her around, this time, so he could look into her chocolate eyes. He clasped both of her hands in his own, his touch was warm and comforting.

“We have time, would it be alright if I helped you?”

“But, you’re so busy! I don’t want to trouble you just for the sake of my gingerbread house!”

“You are never trouble,” Vyn smiles sweetly, leaning down and pressing a faint kiss to her palm, which was lightly coated in ginger. “Besides, nothing would bring me more joy than to bake with my beloved.”

“If you insist!” Xiaoxi declares, her voice hardly more than a squeak when her eyes met his. She wanted to look everywhere but his face right now, she was feeling the embarrassment over her outburst, over cookies nonetheless! “I’m sorry I was grumpy, I would love to have you help me..”

With an affectionate smile, Vyn brought her hand to his cheek and leaned into it. “It is alright, you were upset, my dear. I just want to be there for you, even if that entails spending every afternoon and night in the kitchen with you until we get your gingerbread house perfect.”

“Our gingerbread house,” She corrected, moving her thumb in small circles on his cheek. Was it just her or was his face slightly warmer than usual? 

“Yes, our gingerbread house,” Vyn chuckles. “Now it appears you’ve run out of gingerbread dough, shall we make some more?”

“In a minute,” Xiaoxi moves her hand away from Vyn’s face and wraps both of her arms around his waist. With little effort she presses her cheek against his chest. Though she can feel the pleasant fabric of his cashmere sweater against her skin, she can also hear his calming heartbeat. She smiles thoughtfully. “I just want to hold you for a minute, is that okay?”

“More than okay, take all of the time you need, my sunshine.” Vyn leans down and presses his cheek against the top of her head, littering intermittent kisses against her hair. “I’m not going anywhere, nor are the cookie ingredients.”

With a giggle, she squeezes him tighter, she felt Vyn's hands come up run up and down her back soothingly. With Vyn right here, even her small challenges didn't feel so insignificant anymore. He made her feel like everything that troubled her was important, upmost importance.

[lovestellis]

𝐺𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝐶𝑟𝑢𝑚𝑏𝑠

This is part of my holiday challenge where I write prompts!

Today's is: Gingerbread House! This ended up being a sweet hurt comfort more than anything else but I think that fits sweet xixi and vyn more than anything else <33

Xiaoxi groaned for what felt like the millionth time that afternoon. With a helpless sigh, she slams down her failed tray of gingerbread. This time instead of undercooking it, she’d overcooked it, it was way too crisp to work with, not to mention it probably tastes awful. 

Just as she was about to forget the idea completely, a pair of warm arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her back from the messy counter.

“Sweetheart,” Vyn only hugged her tighter when she tried to wiggle back to the counter, her smaller hands reaching back for the gingerbread crumbs. “What’s wrong?”

“I was going to make my students a big gingerbread house.” Xiaoxi explained, her lips forming into an exaggerated pout. “But, I’m a failure! Look, no matter how many times I try, it’s awful! I’m never going to bake anything ever again!”

“Xiaoxi, darling.” The seriousness of her lover’s soft voice drew her attention to him immediately. “You are  a lot of things, sweetie. You’re ambitious, stubborn, and certainly adorable. However, a failure is the one thing you are not.”

Vyn leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips was enough to momentarily quiet her anxious thoughts.. Or, well, all thoughts at all really. 

She hardly noticed that a smile had found its way on her face.

“So let’s see about your gingerbread, when did you want to bring this to your class?”

“Next week, but at this rate, it might not get ready. Look, this one is burned, this one is super undercooked, this one doesn’t even taste right, I don’t even know what I’m doing wrong.”

Vyn offered her a comforting gentle smile and spun her around, this time, so he could look into her chocolate eyes. He clasped both of her hands in his own, his touch was warm and comforting.

“We have time, would it be alright if I helped you?”

“But, you’re so busy! I don’t want to trouble you just for the sake of my gingerbread house!”

“You are never trouble,” Vyn smiles sweetly, leaning down and pressing a faint kiss to her palm, which was lightly coated in ginger. “Besides, nothing would bring me more joy than to bake with my beloved.”

“If you insist!” Xiaoxi declares, her voice hardly more than a squeak when her eyes met his. She wanted to look everywhere but his face right now, she was feeling the embarrassment over her outburst, over cookies nonetheless! “I’m sorry I was grumpy, I would love to have you help me..”

With an affectionate smile, Vyn brought her hand to his cheek and leaned into it. “It is alright, you were upset, my dear. I just want to be there for you, even if that entails spending every afternoon and night in the kitchen with you until we get your gingerbread house perfect.”

“Our gingerbread house,” She corrected, moving her thumb in small circles on his cheek. Was it just her or was his face slightly warmer than usual? 

“Yes, our gingerbread house,” Vyn chuckles. “Now it appears you’ve run out of gingerbread dough, shall we make some more?”

“In a minute,” Xiaoxi moves her hand away from Vyn’s face and wraps both of her arms around his waist. With little effort she presses her cheek against his chest. Though she can feel the pleasant fabric of his cashmere sweater against her skin, she can also hear his calming heartbeat. She smiles thoughtfully. “I just want to hold you for a minute, is that okay?”

“More than okay, take all of the time you need, my sunshine.” Vyn leans down and presses his cheek against the top of her head, littering intermittent kisses against her hair. “I’m not going anywhere, nor are the cookie ingredients.”

With a giggle, she squeezes him tighter, she felt Vyn's hands come up run up and down her back soothingly. With Vyn right here, even her small challenges didn't feel so insignificant anymore. He made her feel like everything that troubled her was important, upmost importance.