#winter fleece dress | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

peeweekey · 9 months ago

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8:05 | SAM

word count: 3.2k

summary: sam’s ten heart event with a twist.

tags: winter, developing relationships, fluff, swearing, cuddling, hiding from his mother in his bed lol

a/n: this spiralled out of my control and into 3k words… enjoy!

it’s cold.

the fleece coat you’ve bundled yourself in cannot protect goosebumps from forming from the biting chill of the valley’s winter nights. your breaths come out in cloudy puffs of air, the heat slowly draining out of every exhale. it’s dark out, poorly spaced lampposts providing the bare minimum amount of light to navigate.

you got sam’s letter earlier, a clumsily written note that was stuffed haphazardly into your farm’s mailbox—the yellow lined paper he used, all crumpled and ripped.

meet me in front of my house! at 8 pm, i’ll be waiting. there’s something i want to tell you.

the ending sentence is somehow even more sloppily written compared to the ones before it. as if he was debating whether or not to add it in, but ultimately decided for it—it’s funny to imagine him hunched over his desk, stressing over what to write to you.

well, you won’t deny feeling excitement over the possibility of whatever sam has to say. if the subtle skip in your step is anything to go by.

you walk through the silent night of the town, it seems like everything’s frozen in place during the colder times of the year—everyone’s safe at home, toasty under their covers and you’d imagine thoroughly enjoying going to bed at 7 pm.

you do too, sometimes. there’s less to do when the ground is too frozen to plant any crop.

there’s a lot more free time out of the farm during the winter. you’ve really started integrating yourself with the townspeople—helping haley find her bracelet, befriending sam’s prickly coworker shane, and even discovering a shadowperson named Krobus in the town sewers. it really is starting to feel like home.

walking, you cut the corner passing by emily and haley’s house—and there he is.

he looks devastatingly handsome all dressed in winter clothing. his regular denim jacket switched out for a dark woolen coat, his pants are unripped and, surprisingly, not smeared with dirt.

though what you like most about his winter attire is his hair. those wild golden locks are laid flat under a woolen beanie—a stark difference from the spiked updo he usually does (though you like that one too). the tips of his hair are slightly curled upwards, revealing that family trait of curly hair.

you creep closer, just watching him wait for you—the way he folds his arms in an attempt to warm up, and the little shuffle he does on his feet. you laugh softly, he must’ve been waiting a while—just like you have for him.

sam turns at the sound of your laugh, his body unconsciously tilting towards you, like a magnet’s uncontrollable attracting to metal. “you made it,” he breathes, his nose, ears and cheeks pinkened by the cold.

you nod, unable to stop a bashful smile from forming on your lips. “i made it.”

a big grin splits his face, mimicking yours. underneath the lone lamplight he looks jaw-droppingly handsome. you feel yourself become warm just in proximity to him.

“i wanted to talk to you in private,” he says. sam’s buzzing with energy, surveying the dark streets before meeting your gaze with his. “it’s kinda cold out here though… i, um—i can sneak you into my room…”

your heart skips a beat, like you’ve skipped a step on a staircase. “what?” you croak.

your eyes catch onto him wringing his fingers, a nervous habit you can’t help but always notice (not because his hands are nice and interesting to look at, not at all).

“you don’t wanna?”

“no!” you inhale, trying to alleviate the twisting sensation in your gut. “i do wanna, ahem, lead the way.”

sam smiles at you, dimples and all. he leads you towards the tiny bedroom window in front of his house. the window is already open—you assume that’s where he jumped out of to meet you.

he climbs through the window with minimal effort, landing on the flooring with a dull thump!

you raise a brow. “have you done this before?”

sam stretches his hand out to you, waiting. his smile turnt sheepish. “i mean, i think we were all rebellious teenagers once.”

you resist the urge to snort—sam’s nervous, you can tell. he doesn’t have his quips and jokes tonight. and he’s shy, but eager. like a puppy, excited and curious about the world.

“o-kay,” you say, one hand in his hand the other set firmly on the windowsill. “make sure i don’t fall please.”

sam nods, eagerly. the curled ends of his hair shake along with the motion as he does.

how endearing.

you tighten your grip on his hand, hauling yourself through the small window, trying your damn best to not make any sudden noise. which is successful for the most part, only a tiny huff of exertion escapes you.

annoying, yes. but the chill of winter burns through any energy you have faster than other seasons.

your feet connect with the wood of his floor, hand still clasped in his and the chill merely at your back. it’s warm inside, with him.

his room is the same as it’s always been when you’d visit before—shelves, band equipment, posters—but the ambiance is different. a little more charged with tension so thick you could cut through it with a knife.

sam does not bother turning on his light, you don’t mind it all that much. but it takes some effort to avoid tumbling over stray objects that clutter his bedroom floor.

“look, I know I’ve been about nothing but the band for a while now…” he starts. “but I don’t want you to think that’s all i’m interested in.”

you chuckle, clasping your fingers behind your back. “it certainly takes up a big chunk of your interests.”

he pouts, literally pouts. it must be the love bug you caught because you think it’s just plain adorable. “i’m really trying over here!”

“sorry!” you grin, “okay, continue.”

“well, um… shoot, this is kinda hard, huh?” he forces an awkward chuckle. “and nerve-wrecking… but what i’m trying to say is…”

“i’m really happy that we’ve grown this close, and well…” sam looks at you, he’s stupidly red—the color spreading all over his face. “i—i’m just wondering, do you think of me as… just a friend?”

your breath stutters, and you feel yourself blushing before you can do anything to stop it. you stare at him as he does with you. the two of you locking eyes for a second, it feels like it’s just you and him in the world.

you feel your shy admittance at the tip of your tongue. no, you’d say, you’re more than that for me, if you want to be.

sam smiles at you, shy but so, so overwhelmingly bright—it’s blinding. your head is running a mile a minute when you finally get the courage—

“sam!” you hear jodi’s groggy voice from outside the door. your stomach drops with dread. “somebody’s at the door! go and check please?”

you lock eyes once again, this time for entirely different reasons, and with entirely different feelings.

“oh my god, sam,” you whisper hurriedly, panic gripping you. “your mom doesn’t know i’m here—what do we do—”

“hold on—” he replies, with the same sense of urgency as you. “okay, okay—i have a plan, just trust me, ‘kay?”

you think you might break out into a cold sweat. you look at him quizzically, “what?”

sam gives you an apologetic smile with that stupid beautiful face of his, he moves forward, grabbing you by your wrists, and moving you with him—towards his bed.

“sam!” you hiss, alarms are blaring in every corner of your mind as sam all but drags you under the toasty covers of his bed. he lifts the blanket and stations you by the edge, covering you in the blanket—which is now a lumpy mess.

this is his childhood bed you’re in, where his mother and brother are just by the door.

and his mother is calling him.

“i’ll get this over with quick,” he says to you, already heading towards the door of his room. “hang on tight, ‘kay?”

you breathe a sound of agreement, way too jittery to formulate any proper response as you quieten under the covers.

though the sheets do feel nice, and smells overwhelmingly of that specific cologne he uses (stolen from joja inventory, he told you once). you will yourself not to relax and melt into the sheets so fast. instead, you listen for each and every sound that may give hint to whatever the hell is happening.

there’s a commotion that you can hear happening, the door swings open, the hinges creaking along with it—this whole surreal experience feels a little like the confrontation part of a horror movie, the helpless victim hiding and the heavy footfalls of the killer.

though in your case, it’s not one set of footsteps, but two.

“what are you two doing here?”

“you’re the one who called us over, remember?” you can recognize the band’s shut-in pianist’s voice from anywhere. “you were all like, stop skipping practice, seb.”

sam’s voice is oddly pitchy when he responds. “…well, tonight’s no good!”

you hear the other person huff, you strain your ears harder to listen. the huffing person clearly fed up with the strange behavior sam’s putting out right now.

“my mom and vincent are asleep,” he adds hurriedly. “they’d wake up—”

you resist the urge to groan, stifling your mouth under a sweaty palm. jodie was just speaking to him minutes ago, there’s no way they’d buy that. he cannot be a more obvious liar.

thankfully they gloss over the fact. “sam, why are you acting so damn weird?” sebastian asks, straightforward as ever.

“yeah,” the other voice adds. feminine but strong. which you now identify as abigail’s, you hear a pinch of impatience in her voice. “and why are you red? did you sit outside in the snow or something—”

sam chokes, which he tries to conceal as an odd sounding cough. abigail pauses mid-sentence. the shift in the atmosphere is palpable. you screw your eyes shut, hearing the rapid rate of your heartbeat. it’s so loud you’re almost convinced the trio can hear the thumping from your hiding spot under the sheets. this is it, they’re going to discover you.

“oh, oh i see,” abigail grins. “on second thought, i wouldn't risk catching all those germs. i’m feeling starved, let’s hit the saloon, seb.”

the aforementioned man grumbles, seemingly puzzled by the sudden switch in abigail’s attitude. “huh… why?” abigail must have whispered something to him—you can barely hear over the muffle of sam’s blanket comforters. “ugh, alright. fine. you owe us one, sam.”

“oh, of course! mhm, yup,” you cringe at the immense awkwardness of sam’s response, feeling the overwhelming urge to pull out your own hair. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah? now shoo! wouldn’t wanna get you both sick or somethin’…”

“huh?” sebastian replies, rightfully puzzled as they’re forcefully pushed out of the room. “why would we see you tomorrow if you’re sick—”

“well seb,” abigail says smugly. “let’s just say sammy here is taking care of some important business—”

“okay, bye!” you hear the door click shut. to your utter bewilderment, sam shut the door in their faces.

the room is deathly quiet, the air is stagnant and stuffy. once you feel it safe enough, you crane your neck out of the blankets to check over him. to trace any lingering feeling the sudden visit might’ve given him. sam’s got his back rested against the wood of his door, his back slumped.

“i—i wasn’t expecting that,” you say quietly from your hiding spot on his bed. peeking the top half of your face, watching the door carefully. “kinda nerve-wracking.”

and embarrassing.

“i know—i’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “i didn’t expect them coming over.”

“sebastian said you invited them for practice, though.” you point out.

“maybe i did,” he admits, creeping closer to you on the bed, even if he’s guilty and embarrassed. “i totally forgot—i mean, i was really nervous! my mind blanks when i get nervous…”

sam stops right by the side of the bed, as if he’s waiting for your permission to get in with you—in his own bed. and to be perfectly honest, you really want him to.

“kinda ruined the atmosphere too,” he looks away from you, eyes downcast and melancholy. “i had this whole thing planned too, and i, just… ugh…”

your eyes soften. “sam, it’s really fine. okay, maybe a little shocking but you know it’s not enough to scare me away.”

he looks down at you, worried. his eyebrows are ever so slightly pinched—you wish you could run your fingers over it, and smooth it out yourself.

“plus,” you murmur, reaching over the small amount of space between the two of you to clasp his wrist. “i’m not just gonna leave… just tell me what you were going to say—before the… interruption.”

that gives you the final push to gather your courage to tug him into bed with you. sam follows, flopping onto the empty bedding next to you without a fight. for a moment, it’s just the two of you, side by side, slowly huddling closer and closer for warmth.

and sam is warm. he’s practically radiating comfy heat you wish to burrow into—or wrap yourself around. the perfect bed-partner for winter nights like these.

you find yourself becoming addicted to the feeling.

sam angles his body towards you. you on your back and him on his side, it feels intimate and special. and for some reason, it feels familiar—like you’ve always belonged by his side.

“i think you know already,” he tells you, his eyes are not clear in the dim light but you know, there are practically hearts in them. “that i like you.”

you giggle softly. “and i think you know the same about me.”

sam tentatively grasps your hand, the freezing fingertips thawing under his careful touch. the caress of his hand on yours sends tingling electricity down your spine, your whole body feels alert—alive.

he speaks again, but this time his tone is a whisper of what it usually is. “stay awhile?”

“yeah,” you swallow, squeezing his hand in your grip. a small smile on your lips. “yes, i want to.”

“good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkle at the edges so softly and the dimples on his cheeks deepen. there really is no one else who can compare for you. “hey, you’re really cold… let me warm you up?”

you turn to your side, facing him. at this angle, your faces are mere inches apart. you can trace every dip, line and curve of his face, and he yours. your hand tingles with the overwhelming urge to reach for him and squeeze.

“it is cold,” you agree. “i’d very much like that.”

“phew,” he softly sighs. sam drags his fingers up your arm, stopping at your elbow. wherever he touches, a whisper of him lingers on your skin—a bone deep imprint you yearn for him to spread all across your skin.

you roll into him with little to no effort at all. sam drags you to his chest, your ear perched right above his heart, you can hear the steady thump! of his heartbeat from underneath. sam winds his arms around you, intensifying the heat you feel by tenfold—it’s not uncomfortable at all, though. you like it.

your bodies fit perfectly together, just like puzzle pieces. a mess of limbs tangling together. the warmth of him making you shudder in honey-like delight. it feels syrupy and soft and warm wrapped in his arms.

his hand at your back travels downwards, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake you feel even through the thickness of the fabric separating the skin of your back and his fingertips. his hands feel rough and calloused at the small of your back—from playing guitar and his skateboarding incidents—but you enjoy the feeling.

you trail your fingers under the thick fabric of his jacket and shirt, feeling the smooth skin underneath—the action has no deeper meaning than you wanting to feel.

sam’s uncharacteristically quiet. his breaths are slow and long, like he’s on the verge of sleep. yet his arms are wound tight around you—like he never wants to let go of you. your nerves make you feel like a slow simmering soup. warm and slowly cooking over the fire.

you two stay entangled for a while, in comfortable silence. sometime during the night you’ve matched your breathing to his, and he pulled you somehow even closer to his body.

but, a thump comes from his window, a light tapping sound. soft but persistent. the two of you opt to ignore it, in favor of snuggling closer to each other. yet the taps continue, and become louder and faster.

disrupted by the noise, sam mournfully throws the covers from over him to check, untangling himself from your grip. leaving a very him-shaped indent on the bed left in his wake. you groan, sticking your bottom lip out, you miss the warmth of him already.

“oh shit.”

the expletive makes you sit up in his bed, the comforter draping off your middle. you can make out the shape of him even with the dimness of the light—sam’s back is towards you, and if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks like he’s shrinking into himself a tiny bit.

“what is it?” you whisper-shout to him.

he slowly turns to you, wide eyed, his shoulders stiff. sort of resembling a kicked-dog. sam bows down his head—with what you think is shame, for what reason, you can’t tell. rubbing your eyes of sleep, you furrow your brow, craning your neck to look out the window behind him.

abigail and sebastian are there, waving wildly at you. your eyes widen. abigail and sebastian are waving at you with smug smiles plastered on their faces.

your stomach drops for the umpteenth time that night. you honestly feel too horrified to speak.

you bury yourself under the sheets, a feeble attempt to conceal your mortification. so that’s why abigail was playing along with sam’s urgent ramblings—she knew (not that sam was any good at keeping a cool facade, he is totally incapable of lying smoothly). you groan, you feel like a rebellious teenager again, only the part where you get caught and utterly humiliated.

outside, you can hear the loud roaring laughter of the duo through the glass, alongside the awkward, embarrassed chatter of your newly-minted boyfriend. (not technically official, but the title succeeds to relieve your horror by the tiniest bit)

still, you stay put. through the mortification and embarrassment you still stick yourself to sam’s side, or more literally, on his bed—because you know, there’s no other place you’d rather be.

you spare another glance out of the covers at the trio—to your surprise, sam’s beat you to it. looking at you with heart eyes and the most lovesick expression (you’re pretty sure yours looks the same).

you know there’s going to be a lot more explaining to do in the morning. but it doesn’t matter to you, not right now when you’re in sam’s bed on the verge of sleep.

not when you feel so warm.

a/n: shoutout to the ass trio for making an appearance in the fic! i love you abby and seb.

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cheollipop · 1 year ago

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❅*⋆ 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙣𝙤𝙬

navi | taglist

pairing: jung wooyoung x fem!reader

w.c.: 4.4k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

while the world revelled in the first snowfall of the year — crowding their windows as the sky painted the streets in a blanket of white — your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating wooyoung.

❅ warnings: food/eating mentioned, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, men whimpering *drools*, wooyoung is a tease, sub-leaning!reader, cockwarming, creaming, praise, nicknames (youngie, woo; baby, good girl, darling, love), they are so in love i want to throw up

❅ A/N: happiest birthday to my beloved.

nsfw under the cut—minors dni 🔞

Smoothing your spatula over the cooled top layer, small, golden crumbs adhered to the buttercream as you coated the freshly baked cake’s exterior. You peered outside the window atop the sink, a smile stretching your lips when you’d noticed the falling white specs coating the world behind the safety of your glass pane.

You loved winter. You loved the hot chocolate with marshmallows melting into a swirl of whipped cream, huddling up on the couch with candles burning, blankets engulfing your form while the world around you faded away as warmth seeped into your skin. You loved the anticipation of snow, and the bliss it brought with it when it dressed the streets in a soft, pearly gown. You loved the big jumpers you’d sneak out of Wooyoung’s closet, his scent imbedded into the soft fibres, and the homemade soup burning your tongue as he spoon-fed it into your open mouth. Even with harsh storms swaying the trees from side to side, branches banging against your windows, hail pounding on the hoods of cars, and bleak winds breaching the thick layers of cashmere and fleece, winter with Wooyoung was warm.

Too immersed in taking in the sky’s frosty offering, you’d missed the gentle rustling of keys, the click of the front door, mindlessly spreading the slightly-too-thick coating while socked feet padded their way to your idle form. The sudden hands on your waist startled you, a gallop of buttercream flying off the spatula you were holding as your arm jolted upwards, quickly twisting your body with a stunted inhale to face the intruder. Your initial fright dwindled away as you stood before Wooyoung, eyes closed to avoid the buttercream stuck over his eyebrow, his body trapping yours against the marble counter.

“Woo,” you breathed out a sigh of relief, giggles bubbling up in your throat as you reached for the tablecloth you had thrown over your shoulder, wiping his face with your lips drawn tight to suppress the laugh attempting to slip through.

“Is this how you treat me on my birthday?” You wanted to kiss his pout away, but you resisted. “I rushed home to my darling because I missed her so much, and she tries to blind me,” he sulked, fluttering his eyes open once you’d wiped his face completely clean.

This time, you giggled, leaning forward to press your lips together, moving to peck the corners before pulling away. “I’m sorry, my love,” you smiled apologetically, not bothering with teasing him on his birthday. His mouth stretched into a smile that mirrored yours, and you leaned into his body, arms wrapping around his small waist while his circled your own. Glancing down at his shirt, about to scold him for the improper number of layers he’d thrown on before leaving, your eyebrows shot up at the blotchy streaks of brown painting the thin white. “What did the guys do to you?”

He tilted his head to take in the state of his shirt, blowing out a breathy laugh before directing his gaze back to your puzzled features. “Oh baby, you should’ve seen my face. They had Jongho push it down into the cake.”

“Mm, you still have some in your hair,” you grinned while picking out the crumbs from his hairline, running your fingers through dark locks to break up the stuck-together strands.

A gust of air blew over your face as it escaped Wooyoung’s parted lips in a heavy sigh, interrupting your ministrations when he dropped his head onto your shoulder to nuzzle his nose into your pulse point, inhaling the lingering scent of vanilla wafting off your skin and occupying your residence. Pressing a kiss to your neck, he muttered against the soft flesh, “I’ve missed you.”

You smiled, “you’ve only been gone for two hours.”

“Too long.”

Your chest warmed, fingers carding through the soft hairs at his nape while he laid the weight of his head onto your shoulder, breath steady and arms secure around your waist, occasionally tightening as he zoned in and out of the present, content to simply rest within the aura of tranquillity you’d effortlessly granted him. “You’re here now,” you burrowed your nose into his hair, the chocolatey aroma of a wasted cake embedded into the soft locks.

It wasn’t that Wooyoung was fond of winter too — he simply enjoyed spending it by your side. Pretending to be cold so you’d snuggle closer to him, running your hands through his hair and peppering kisses over his face until it scrunched up, blowing hot air over his already-warm palms just to see the corners of his eyes wrinkle as his lips curled with a smile. You'd wait all year to watch the world pile on layers of thick fabric with a sheet of white, quickly melting dust resting on their shoulders, dainty snowflakes bedecking brown locks, irises glinting under the winter sky as you walked down the slippery sidewalk with intertwined fingers swinging between your bodies.

Winter, to you and Wooyoung, meant meaningless walks under the soft snowfall, feeling the momentary chill of the icy flakes on your skin before it reverted back to liquid. Red noses inhaling the crisp air, soft gusts of fog leaving freckled lips as excited words rolled off his tongue — something about a new series he was watching, or was it a movie? The non-prescription glasses he insisted on wearing all but fully beclouded, droplets of melted snow rolling off the plastic frame, his lips cracked with their excessive movement as he kept switching between topics, as though he’d been saving them up for weeks. As though you didn’t share most of the day’s hours in each other’s company, eyes meeting delicate features as the morning sun cast its early rays over your resting figures, and falling shut within each other’s embrace, hoping their gentle touch could carry into your dreams.

Wooyoung knew when to be quiet as well. When the grey, weary skies reflected upon your affect, your warm sheets proving to be a little more difficult to part with, and words a little more difficult to utter. In such instances, Wooyoung offered you peace, safety, warmth. A place to rest and recover, where the passage of time didn’t seem too daunting, where you could find footing at your own pace, with a gaze flooded with unfaltering adoration cast upon you, and arms warmer than the peak of summer holding your trembling form until it found the strength to stand alone, a ghost of a palm on your lower back even as you took your first steps back into the present.

A pleasant exhale warmed your shoulder before Wooyoung’s body retreated partially, arms still encompassing your body while he directed his focus onto the counter behind you. “Has my baby been working on this since I left?” His tone was playful, amused as he peered over your shoulder at the crumb-coated cake left unfinished.

The corners of your lips lifted into a shy smile, cheeks flushed while you nodded. With your eyes fixed onto a particular stain on Wooyoung’s collar, you’d missed the tenderness of his gaze as he took you in — curling in on yourself while he held you in his arms, flour dusted over your sweater and traces of buttercream left at the corner of your mouth from a sneaky taste testing you thought would go unnoticed. Holding your chin with his pointer and thumb, Wooyoung directed your focus back to his face, greeting you with an easy smile before leaning forward to close the gap between your lips. They sashayed like dancers, moulding against one another in a gentle, yet gradually deepening kiss, noses pressing against one another as Wooyoung stepped further into your space.

And just like that, he was gone again, moving back to moon over the blend of abashment and disorientation taking over your features while your lips continued to chase his, the plushness lingering over your senses, and you wanted more. But the hands on your waist were twisting you clockwise until you faced the loitering snowfall once again, Wooyoung’s arms now on either side of you, bracketing your body against the counter while his lips feathered over the cartilage of your ear as he spoke, “come on then, don’t let me distract you.”

Your heartrate picked up, Wooyoung’s body heat — despite the intentional space left between your back and his chest — seeping into your skin, not aiding the flush running up your body at the proximity, the not-so-innocent touches, the teasing, the taste of his lips persisting over yours.

“Woo,” the tone was firm, but your voice wavered before you could stop it, and the telltale stretch of his mouth against the shell of your ear told you all you needed to know — Wooyoung was aware of his effect on you, and would work to exploit his power in any way he could.

Slender fingers reached for the piping bag you’d set aside earlier, twisting one of your hands with his free one to place the tool into your open palm. “Here, I’ll help,” his smirk remained, evident in his voice as he laid his hands over your knuckles, following your lead as you adjusted the bag in your hold until it fit comfortably.

You exhaled the breath you’d been holding, steadying your trembling hands and angling your body over the counter, dragging Wooyoung down with you as he watched your measured movements in silence. Pressing down on the sides of the plastic bag, you formed your first buttercream swirl with a meticulous twist of the wrist. You pursed your lips, leaning back ever so slightly to examine it before nodding in approval, bending down once again to repeat the process.

Wooyoung's hand remained perched idly over yours, eyes flitting between your profile and the hands lining his birthday cake’s circumference with — very uneven — swirls of vanilla buttercream. With no trace of your previous bashfulness to be found, Wooyoung found himself mooning over the engaged furrow of your eyebrows, the glossy sliver of tongue held between your teeth, steady hands moving underneath his with no complaint about their added weight; you’ll most likely use that as an excuse to justify the noticeable discrepancy in swirl size, and Wooyoung will most likely allow it, drop the banter and accept you accusations, simply to see the blissful spark lighting up your irises.

Suddenly straightening up into his body, you’d dragged Wooyoung out of his sappy daydreams and back to inspect the finished cake, the decorative swirls appearing more uniform now that they’d been clustered together, the mouthwatering scent of vanilla and caramel so inviting, so homey and pleasant.

As though you’d read his mind, you reached forward to grab a clean fork from the dishrack, not bothering with cutting out a slice before you’d stabbed the cake to scoop out a bite of fluffy, vanilla-coated sponge. Wooyoung's mouth opened without thought as you directed the heaped fork over your shoulder, teeth clanging against the metal as he slid the contents off its prongs. You'd expected the passionate feedback, turning your head as soon as his eyes had fell shut, wishing you’d plugged your ears as soon as the hyperbolic moaning began. Sensing the sway of his body behind you while he chewed loudly, you slid your finger over the coated side of the cake, collecting a bead of buttercream and rotating your body to smear it onto his cheek. The moaning stopped, thank fuck.

The deadpan expression barely lasted, his features melting into that of warmth, affection, love — as though you’d handcrafted the intricate snowflakes painting the world white and placed them into his hands. Wooyoung’s gaze moved to your lips, skipping contemplation, and diving forward to share the sweet remnants of vanilla on his tongue, flicking it over your bottom lip with a sly smile. He trailed tender kisses up your face, starting at the corner of your mouth and up to your cheekbone. And just as your eyes fluttered shut, a warm, buttercream-covered cheek collided with yours, curved nose nuzzling into the warm flesh to smear the sugary cream over your skin. His grip on your waist was unyielding, holding you still while you thrashed in his arms.

“You shouldn’t play with your food, my love,” he grinned, fingers now poking at your sides.

“Woo—” you shrieked and jerked away from his touch, throwing your head back as giggles erupted from your chest. “Please—s-stop!”

He carried on with his ministrations for a few moments more, revelling in the pleasant melody leaving your smiling lips, the joyous expression persisting even after his hands ceased their motion, now resting comfortably over the curve of your waist. It was as though an inconspicuous force drew him to you, finding it laborious to remain detached from your form. The cake on his shirt be damned, he wrapped himself around you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck to inhale the scent of your body wash, pressing feathery pecks over the soft skin.

The corners of your lips curled upwards, sighing pleasantly at the gentle gesture as you smoothed your hands down his back, nuzzling your cheek into his clothed shoulder while the scent of musk and chocolate mingled in the air around you.

Settling in the tranquil stillness with Wooyoung, you could feel the taut, lean muscle lining his back beneath your palms, absorbing his comforting heat as you stood together. “How are you not cold?”

He smiled fondly at the slight lisp you spoke with, tucked so close to his body, his shoulder muffled your words. Pulling back, he placed a wet kiss to the tip of your nose when you’d whined about the sudden parting, and his hands reached for yours. He enveloped the icy digits within the warmth of his own, bringing them up to his mouth to blow hot air into the cocoon he’d created around your hands. Closing his fingers around yours completely, he hoped it’d contain the warmth of his breath, lowering them back down to peer at you through his eyelashes, a familiar glint in his eyes.

“What?” you questioned warily, one eyebrow raised and heat rushing through your body.

Despite his intense stare, his eyes — though slightly narrowed — remained soft, one hand leaving yours to smooth down the hair at the side of your head, the scent of chocolate surrounding you once again as he pressed his lips to your temple, the leftover sugary cream on his skin spreading over your cheekbone as he spoke.

“My sweet baby, let’s warm you up, yeah?”

All plans to ravish you vanished as soon as your knees met the carpeted floor between his legs, hurried fingers tugging at his sweatpants, not allowing him the time to settle back down onto the couch cushions before a wet tongue swiped over the precum beading at his tip.

“Baby, you really don’t have to,” he muttered breathlessly, fingers carding through your hair, eager eyes watching your spit-soaked lips approaching his cock.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you wordlessly took his cockhead into your mouth, fluttering your eyes shut as you lowered yourself further down his length, grunts and choked moans reverberating in your ears and motivating you to carry on. He felt heavy on your tongue, the prominent vein lining his shaft throbbing in your mouth and bitter precum overwhelming your tastebuds. Wooyoung’s thighs tensed under your palms, and glancing up at him, you watched the turmoil his features portrayed, wanting you to move at your own pace, yet the burning want sizzling in his gut begged him to take what he wanted.

“Youngie,” a gentle mumble of his name was enough to drag him out of the battles crowding his mind, snapping his eyes down to your face with parted lips and stunted exhales. Dragging your mouth down his length, you watched as his gaze moved to take in the slow descent, then back up at the sound of your voice, “use me however you want, birthday boy.”

You flattened your tongue over underside of his cock, moving upwards to circle around his head, your exaggerated slurping breaking Wooyoung’s composure, the internal battles in his mind coming to a standstill as your warmth engulfed him, eyes beginning to roll back with every inch you took down the rough plane of your tongue. His hands shot up to hold your face, thumb caressing your cheekbones while he kept you in place, languidly rolling his hips into your mouth, head thrown back over the cushions behind him with burning arousal rushing through his body. You nuzzled your nose into the thick hairs at his base, and even as you gagged, your mind floated in ecstasy with every upward buck of Wooyoung’s hips.

“Fuck—‘m sorry darling, you feel so good,” he admired the skill in which you took his cock with lidded eyes, brows furrowed while he held you down until he felt the last of your oxygen warming the skin of his pelvis.

Wooyoung helped you off his length before you had the chance to tap on his thigh, chest heaving as he watched you regain your breath, his throbbing length coated in your spit and spurting translucent, sticky precum in anticipation. He followed the string of saliva connecting the tip of your tongue to his cockhead, swallowing dryly as his body lit up with all-consuming lust. Watching you suck in the air you’d lost, Wooyoung assumed he’d have more time to recover, to push down the hints of an orgasm come too soon, but the sudden fingers around his base offered him no reprieve. Small, firm tugs on the lower half of his cock built him up to an almost-high once again, his voice thinning — groans turned choked-up moans — and his hips involuntarily jerking into your fist.

“W-wait—baby, ‘m gonna cum, please—” he pleaded, but the small smile you tried to hide told him everything he needed to know: you weren’t planning on stopping. You wanted to hear him whimper and whine, watch him squirm and shiver under your touch until he’d dirtied his clothes with his own cum, until his cock could no longer handle the flaring stimulation. But Wooyoung had other plans, grabbing your wrist and sighing as you relaxed your fingers around his cock, shutting his eyes to bask in the calm before opening them once again to take in your dejected features. Too riled up to play your games, like a carnivorous fauna who’d been mercilessly starved for weeks, Wooyoung wanted to feast. “God, darling, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

You thought the couch would’ve been reserved for foreplay and playful teasing, but Wooyoung didn’t bother move to the comfort of your shared bed, simply lifting you off the ground and trapping you under him, the fingers tangled in the hair at your nape tugging your head back to bare your neck while blunt canines left imprints over the delicate skin. Wooyoung’s cock fit snugly between your walls, resting comfortably within your clenching heat while he ravished you, his body weight resting on your pelvis restricting your movement. It seemed as though the raw lust blazing in hooded eyes had dissipated completely, replaced by unwavering patience, gentle pecks and blooming bruises, a throbbing cock seated within your cunt with no plans of moving, of fucking you the way you’d yearned for.

“Youngie,” you whined, a high-pitched whisper that elicited a hum from the man biting into your shoulder. “Please move.”

A breathy chuckle blew over your skin, “I thought the birthday boy made the requests?”

Your expression fell, was it the embarrassment or dejection? Either or, you turned your head to face the backrest, the motion restricted by the hand in your hair, now easing its grip as Wooyoung noticed the flush spreading up from the collar of the flour-dusted sweatshirt he didn’t bother add to the pile of clothes haphazardly thrown over the carpet.

Redirecting back up to your jaw, he planted wet, open-mouthed kisses over its slope, gentle fingers on your chin guiding your gaze back to him. “Oh baby, I’m just kidding.”

His lips settled into an easy smile, soft fringe fanned over his forehead and shimmering beads of sweat forming over the slivers of skin peeking through. The abashment you’d felt faded upon meeting his eyes, void of any judgement, and full of unconditional infatuation. His lips landed onto yours while you were too busy admiring his features — a slow, deep kiss to match the leisure movement of his hips, the drag of his cock over your walls throwing gasoline into the fire burning in your gut. Arm hooking under your knee, he spread you open and laid himself over your lower half.

“What are you—”

“Moving,” a sly smirk paired with a sharp thrust into your welcoming heat, a groan left his parted lips while he watched you melt under his towering frame, the audible squelch of your pussy like music to his ears.

He didn’t give you time to process, elbows digging into the cushion on either side of your head as he built up to a mind-numbing pace, stuffing his cock inside you and revelling in the pleasure painting your features — eyes shut and mouth forming an ‘o’, unable to form coherent words, only a staccato of airy ah’s. His cock was relentless, repeatedly pressing into your sweet spot to light fireworks behind your eyelids, your hips rolling to meet his to create an echo of skin-on-skin between the four walls. The constant squeeze of your pussy around him, the sweet sounds leaving your lips, the firm hold you had around his biceps as he pistoned his hips into you with fervour — Wooyoung’s composure began faltering, and his desperation unveiled itself the deeper he fucked himself into your sopping cunt.

You were so wet, a frustrated whine reverberating in Wooyoung’s throat when he slipped out of you, hands trembling as he hurriedly pushed himself back into your fluttering hole, sighing in unison once your walls were once again moulded to his shape. He lowered himself atop you, his forearms easing some of his body weight off yours while he nuzzled back into your neck, grunts and breathy moans now much closer to your ear, much clearer, sending searing waves of heat straight down to your stretched core.

“So fucking perfect,” he muttered into your skin, “taking me so well, letting me use your cunt the way I want. Such a good girl for me,” he bit down on the column of your throat, feeling it vibrate with your moans as he built himself up to the brink of his orgasm, then slowing down to drag you there with him.

“Fuck, Woo, please—”

Your fingers found the hair at his crown and tugged, not to pull him off you, but to hear the whimpers sounding at the back of his throat. You were close too, so fucking close from the relentless abuse of your g-spot, Wooyoung’s cockhead pressing into it with every forceful thrust into your needy cunt while his pelvis continuously brushed against your swollen clit. The familiar fluttering didn’t go unnoticed, your pussy gripping Wooyoung with its every retreat, swallowing him back inside — inch by inch — with an exhale of relief.

“Close?”

It sounded more like a statement, but you nodded anyway, the hands on his shoulders sliding down his bare back to grip the warm flesh of his hips, desperately guiding them into your heat. The gesture, paired with the doe, sparking eyes you looked up at him with, the gentle tone of your voice as whispered pleads and repetitions of his name escaped your pouty lips, dragged Wooyoung over the edge, tumbling down the steep hill of his orgasm until his vision blurred with unshed tears. The rhythm he'd maintained broke, replaced by sloppy, frenzied thrusts into your dripping cunt, a thick ring of cream forming around his cock as he emptied inside you.

He twitched violently between your walls, and the sudden warmth spreading through your lower belly dragged you down that hill with Wooyoung. You clamped down around his length, halting the frantic pounding as he sheathed himself within your cunt, feeding thick ropes of white into your womb while he shuddered above you, unfiltered moans vibrating against the side of your neck.

It felt like you were still coming, even as Wooyoung used your cunt to milk out the last of his cum, heavy dollops streaming out of the stretched hole, your walls continued to flutter around him, thighs trembling at his side and under his palm. Even as he stretched your leg out for you, refusing to leave the comforting warmth of your cunt while he wrapped his arms around you and twisted you onto your sides, your mind still floated within a cloud of ecstasy.

Was it your orgasm, or was it just Wooyoung? His presence, the soft scent of his cologne and the chocolate in his hair creating a bubble of comfort around your resting frame, his warmth seeping into your skin and lighting your heart ablaze. Today was meant to be about him, celebrating him, but love laced itself into everything Wooyoung did, and he couldn’t help but give, even on a day on which he was meant to take.

“Thank you for today,” the words spoken into your hair were unexpected, and you lifted your head to meet dazed eyes.

“What?”

“The cake, and the dessert,” he smiled at the innuendo, leaning down to peck the tip of your scrunched nose. “Thank you for loving me.”

Dumbstruck, you stared up at the man with glassy eyes, tucking yourself back into his chest before he could question the tearful reception of his words. But Wooyoung only held you tighter, pressing a faint yet reassuring kiss over your hair while you sunk further into his arms. Warm. Even in the midst of winter, Wooyoung was warm.

With the fluffy blanket you’d laid over the backrest now wrapped around your bare figures, you rested within Wooyoung’s secure hold, sharing whispered confessions and hearty giggles while the sun started its descent from its locus. And as the sky shifted from blues to a vivid magenta, you endeavoured to maintain the smile stretching Wooyoung’s lips, to watch his lines around his mouth further deepen until this happiness forever etched itself onto his face.

The world continued to celebrate the first snow of the year — blankets of white now melting over the asphalt — but your focus remained elsewhere, too busy celebrating Wooyoung.

reblogs/feedback are greatly appreciated!! ^^ apply for my tag list here (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

#cromernet #jung wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung smut #wooyoung smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #jung wooyoung fluff #wooyoung fluff #ateez fluff #jung wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung scenarios #jung wooyoung imagines #wooyoung imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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sheliesshattered · 1 year ago

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I did a lot of sewing in 2023, and spent more time on my sewing projects than on any of my other hobbies, even though I ended up with relatively few finished products. I drafted patterns, fitted mock-ups, and worked with specialty fabrics, several of them new to me. I'm pleased with how all of them came out, and feel like I improved my skills in both sewing and drafting. And most importantly, I had a ton of fun wearing each one of these projects!

The majority of the year was spent on my Rhaenyra Targaryen cosplay, starting last January with drafting a pattern from my measurements, sewing a mock-up, fitting the mock-up to achieve a more screen-accurate look, and adjusting the pattern accordingly. I worked with silk for the very first time, black silk organza for the underdress and red silk jacquard (woven by a small maker in India) for the main dress. I dyed lacing cords to match, hand-sewed several yards of trim, set a couple dozen grommets by hand, sewed on several different types of beads, and did a lot of handsewing to complete the whole thing. I worked on it continuously for just over seven months, in between work and alongside other sewing projects in the last month or so.

The other major sewing project last summer was the sequin shorts for my Harley Quinn/Taylor Swift mashup cosplay. I based them on the sequin shorts in the first Suicide Squad movie, but made them red and black to match both Harley's more typical color scheme and Taylor Swift's Red color scheme. I drafted a pattern by altering a swimsuit pattern I drafted in 2020, and made a lining out of swimsuit fabric to check the fit, then cut out the exterior sequin fabric. I'd worked with sequin fabric before, but never one with sequins attached in one continuous chain of stitches, which took a little while to figure out how to best handle to keep from unraveling when cut. I ended up handsewing extra sequins onto places of the shorts where the sequins had fallen off.

I purchased the Taylor Swift tshirt but added quite a lot of hand-sewn details, to make it look more like the Suicide Squad tshirt. In July and August I also finished a bunch of other small cosplay crafting items, everything from wig styling and jewelry making, to gluing rhinestones to a pair of bunny ears, repairing the beading on a purchased dress, and adding a hidden pocket to a purchased skirt, all in preparation for Dragon Con at the end of August.

After Dragon Con I needed a couple of months to recover, and while I did start (but not yet finish) a simple knitting project, I didn't do any sewing or pattern drafting again until late November. At that point I knew I wanted to make a cozy stay-at-home winter dress and get it finished just as soon as possible, so I could start wearing it as the weather turned colder.

I drafted a new dress pattern based on the pattern I drafted for Rhaenyra's dress, and a pair of funky wide legged pants from a pajama pant pattern I'd drafted in 2022. The whole project, from drafting the pattern and ordering a sample of the heavy fleece fabric I wanted to use, to the final hand stitching on the hem, took just under a month -- much faster than the Rhaenyra project, with much less fussy fabric and far fewer details. Now that I've gotten to wear it around the house over the last week and a half, there are a few small changes I may make to it in the future, but generally I'm very happy with it.

Currently I actually have two other sewing projects in process, too: hand-sewing/quilting the print from an old tshirt onto the back of a hoodie for Jack (slow going but getting close to done), and a surprise birthday gift for a family member. I'll post pictures of each once they're done, but probably won't post about the surprise project until the gift has been given.

After that, I have plans to start making some layering pieces to put over (and under) the fleece dress. I have some scrap fabric from older projects I'd like to turn into wearable things, and that bolt of cotton herringbone fabric I got a good deal on on Ebay arrived the other day, and needs to be washed and ironed and such before I start figuring out what I want to do with it.

I'm hoping to continue my streak of 2023 sewing into 2024, with that focus on more practical, everyday wearable items, rather than on cosplay. I don't know yet if I'm going to have any cosplay events to attend this year, and even if I do, I'd be quite happy bringing older projects, including those I finished in 2023, out to play again. As much as I love making those big show pieces for conventions, and pushing myself with new-to-me fabric types like silk and sequins, I'll get a lot more use out of everyday pieces, and feel better about my day to day wardrobe at the same time.

Thank you to everyone who liked and commented on my sewing posts throughout the year! I mostly post about my projects here as a way to document them for myself, but it's always so wonderful to hear that other people like my work, too. I hope 2024 treats all of us well, and to any of you out there with sewing projects you're working on, may your thread stay untangled and your scissors sharp!

#my sewing #2023 sewing retrospective #2023 mood #RRD cosplay #Harley Quinn Swiftie cosplay #winter fleece dress #Solstice dress

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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 2 months ago

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My dear lgbt+ kids,

When it comes to cold weather, the main rule (regardless of gender or presentation) is: when in doubt, choose warmth and safety over style.

Some basics:

Layering is your best friend: Start with moisture-wicking base layers to keep sweat off your skin. Follow with insulating layers (like fleece or wool), and finish with a weather-resistant outer layer (like a puffer jacket or waterproof coat) to protect against wind, snow or rain.

Keep your sensitive areas warm: Make sure your hands, feet, and head are covered! Gloves, warm socks and a beanie can prevent cold-related discomfort or injuries.

Waterproof: If you're facing snow or rain, make sure your clothes are waterproof. Wet clothes lose their insulating ability, so staying dry is a big part of staying warm!

Reflective Gear: If you’re out in the dark or in poor visibility conditions, consider adding reflective elements to your outfit for safety.

People can react differently to temperatures. A temperature that feels super cold to you could feel comfortable to someone else, depending on what you’re used to (and some other factors). As a very basic rule, we can say: Gloves, beanies, and other cold-weather accessories typically become necessary when temperatures drop below 40°F (4°C). In more severe cold (below 32°F (0°C)), it’s even more important to wear them to protect yourself from frostbite and maintain body warmth. But it goes even in milder weather: if you feel uncomfortable or if it’s windy or damp, it’s a good idea to add these items for extra comfort.

With all that being said: Clothes are not just for safety and temperature control, they also help you express yourself - and that doesn’t suddenly change in winter.

Dressing for cold weather doesn’t have to mean sacrificing your personal look. Whether you want to present more feminine, more masculine, or more androgynous, here are some tips to help you layer up and feel like yourself:

(Note that these are suggestions, not hard rules. Style is highly subjective as everyone has different tastes, preferences, body types, fashion inspirations, budgets, cultural influences etc. I could suggest something here that you’d feel super uncomfortable in - if so, that’s not a sign you’re “doing it wrong”! Cherry-pick what feels right and ignore the rest)

If You Want to Present More Feminine

Base Layers: If you want to wear skirts or dresses in winter, start with thermal leggings or tights! These can be nicely paired with cozy, long-sleeved tops or lightweight thermal shirts. (But also keep in mind that plenty of women, cis or trans, do not wear dresses all the time! Nothing wrong with choosing jeans!)

Outer Layers: There are plenty of styles to choose from that have a feminine touch, such as a belted trench coat, a pea coat, or a long wool coat. Shawls are also excellent for adding a touch of style while keeping you warm!

Footwear: Knee-high or thigh-high boots lined with faux fur or fleece can keep your legs warm and add a polished look to your outfit. Ankle boots with thicker socks are also a good alternative.

Accessories: Scarves, gloves, and beanies can be both practical and stylish. Knit hats or earmuffs can add a soft, cozy vibe to your look.

Style Tip: Go for a mix of fabrics like wool, faux fur, and knitwear to create texture and warmth.

If You Want to Present More Masculine:

- Base Layers: Start with thermal undershirts or moisture-wicking base layers. Consider long underwear for added insulation beneath your pants.

- Outer Layers: There’s plenty of outerwear to choose from, like a puffer jacket, parka, or wool overcoat! (Faux) Leather or bomber jackets layered over sweaters can also add a masculine edge while keeping you warm.

- Footwear: You might want to opt for sturdy boots, such as work boots, Chelsea boots, or combat boots. Thicker socks can keep your feet warm.

- Accessories: Don’t skip out on scarves, beanies, or gloves for being “too feminine”. They can actually be great for adding a more rugged feel to your outfit! You just gotta find a color and style that fits you well.

Style Tip: Focus on layering in a way that adds structure. Sweaters, button-ups, and jackets work great together for a sharp, put-together look. Play with dark, neutral tones and thick fabrics like wool or denim for extra warmth and style.

If You Want to Present Androgynous

- Base Layers: Neutral-colored thermal tops or turtlenecks can serve as great foundational pieces. You may want to pair these with straight-leg or loose-fitting pants that allow room for layering underneath.

- Outer Layers: Oversized coats, puffer jackets, or long trench coats can work well for an androgynous look. Try layering with oversized sweaters or fleece pullovers for extra warmth.

- Footwear: You could go for sneakers, lace-up boots, or loafers paired with warm, thick socks. But really, any pair of shoes can work for an unisex outfit.

- Accessories: Neutral-colored scarves, simple beanies, and fingerless gloves can add to an androgynous look. Minimalist accessories like oversized scarves or gender-neutral caps are both practical and stylish.

Style Tip: Aim for a balanced mix of structured and relaxed pieces. Try loose layers on top with more fitted pants, or vice versa, to create an effortless, warm, and non-gendered appearance.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

#I’ll go straight ahead (gay ahead?) and say that fashion isn’t my strong suit #So this is mostly based on internet research #But it was a requested topic and I wanted to do my best to help #lgbt #lgbt+

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anmolsmsblog · 2 months ago

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Real Basics unisex child fleece Track Suit

Price: (as of – Details) Top Brand Product Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 15 x 12 x 2.8 cm; 300 g Date First Available ‏ : ‎ 11 January 2023 Manufacturer ‏ : ‎ Paras Textiles, Paras Textiles,Tiruppur,7667277497 ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0BS48YKKR Item model number ‏ : ‎ RB-BS-Winter-03-GrnPan(029) Country of Origin ‏ : ‎ India Department ‏ : ‎ Unisex Baby Manufacturer ‏ : ‎ Paras Textiles, Paras…

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mini-kids-clothing-shop · 25 days ago

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Girls Keep Believing Novelty Christmas T-Shirt Navy

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#infant dresses #newborn summer clothes #newborn clothes set #newborn size clothes #infant suit #infant winter clothes #peter rabbit clothing #newborn clothes uk #baby blankets and shawls #fleece blanket small

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 16 days ago

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In The Cold

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, social dejection, mentions of religion, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: Your Christmas is set to be a lonely one, but you do your best to share the cheer with your only friend.

Character: Arvin Russell

Day Seven of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - cottage!core

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The tension is something you’ll never be used to. The silence is as bad as the hushed voices and the sneering side looks. It's all so suffocating.

So much as you might’ve earned your judgement, it cannot make them righteous. What was it the pastor extolled; ‘let he who be without sin...’ And why is it that the stones they cast are aimed at you and not the man who joined you in your misdeed? The very one who cozened you into the act?

Henry still sits on the town council, he still goes home to his wife and other children, he still gets a ‘good morning’ or a ‘good day’, and none bat a single eye along the pew. You can’t even get the same from him these days. He’s a stranger now that your dresses are too tight and your gait is wider and wobbly. Now that his adultery has grown inside of you and continues to, he runs from it.

You pay at the counter for your meagre fare. Janie fired you not long after the minister’s scolding and none-so-subtle remonstrance of straying innocence. Like your mother and father, she abandoned you to your dejection. You would not stain her Christian mantle.

The shopkeep, Ted, packs up your goods in the bag without a word. He drops your change on the counter and turns away as you gather it up. Despite that, you still thank him. You lift the bag and hug it above your bump.

You keep your head down as Esther steps up to the counter with her basket. She makes a comment about the holiness of the coming holidays. Of how Jesus’ birthday should be kept sacred. You know she means you to hear but you don’t show that you do.

You step out into the chilly winds as they swirl around with a gust of powder. You nearly collide with another as you do. The chuckle that comes with the near-catastrophe eases your nerves. In an instant, the weight is scooped out of your arms.

“There ya’are,” Arvin greets. He’s the only person in town who talks to you.

In fact, he’s the only reason you have a place to lay your head. He did up his old shed so you could live there for a while. A barter you insisted on. What would people think if you accepted his invitation to stay in the spare room? Surely worse than the already do. He does not deserve to be tainted by you.

“You all done for the day?” You ask as you keep your arms crossed.

“Oh yeah,” he answers brightly, “what’d you get? Anything good...�� he sniffs the top of the bag, “I smell cinnamon.”

You chew your lip, “yeah...”

You glance at him. He wears his fleece lined denim jacket, the collar greyed with age and a button missing on the right chest pocket. It’s not really enough for that kinda cold. Knockemstiff lives up to its name quite often and the winter will be sure to freeze your bones.

“Sorry, I’m being nosy,” he chuckles. “You want some candy? Got some in my pocket. Mr. Callahan sent them in with Edwin.”

“Oh, no, I’m okay,” you blow into your woolen mittens. It’s bitter these days. “Um, I was hopin’... I could make ya dinner tonight. Since ya done so much for me. ‘Fraid I don’t got much else to give right now.”

“That’d be awfully nice,” he accepts with a bounce in his step, “here.” He shifts the weight of the bag into one arm and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out a long shape wrapped in brown paper, the top twisted and tied with ribbon. “Butterscotch.”

“Arvin, I told ya--”

“I got lots,” he insists.

You take it with a thank you. You continue down the packed snow. He’s entirely oblivious to the way Charmain passes with a glare but you feel it in your chest.

“I was thinking, before the baby comes,” you swallow as the thought bubbles up from the pits of constant dread. “I should leave.”

“Leave?” He wonders aloud. He looks over at you as snow gathers in his hair, the cold nipping pink his cheeks. He’s two years older than you but looks and seems much younger than you. “Where to?”

“I got an Aunt a few townships over. She’s the only one still answering my letters. She never had no kids of her own. They all... none of ‘em made it, ya know? I been writing to her and that.”

“Oh,” his disappointment tweaks in his throat. “Well, you don’t gotta, you know? I don’t mind ya stickin’ ‘round.”

“I mind. You been so kind already. Once I got the babe, no one gonna take me then neither. No work here, and I’ll be lucky to get a pew on Sundays.”

“Yeah, well, all these folks be saying they’re godly and how do they act?” His tone edges hotly. “Ain’t godly to turn a soul out. My mama always said so. No soul’ll make it through this world with a dent or two, but the lord’ll forgive.”

“Mm, she sounds like a nice lady,” you say.

“She was,” he sniffs. “And so I wouldn’t be puttin’ no shame on her memory by bein’ selfish, ya know? So’s as long as you need it, the shed is yours. I told ya, though, there’s a room inside.”

“No, no,” you loosen the ribbon and peek inside the paper. The candy stick of twisted sugar is all shades of caramelly brown. You smell it and it plucks at your bottomless hunger. “I don’t mind it. Pa never had the stove goin’ less the snow was past our knees. He always says, if you’re cold, put another sweater on.”

“Huh,” he scoffs darkly.

“What?”

“Yer pa’s the reason you’re in my shed,” he harrumphs. “Sorry for sayin�� it, but I wouldn’t take no advice from a man who’d disown his own blood. He’s the one brought Henry ‘round. They still gettin’ drinks down at the tank.”

That information is more chilling than the cold. You didn’t know that. You try not to hear things about your father or the man who put this curse in you.

“I...” he begins crisply, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t gonna tell ya.”

“Woulda found out soon enough,” you shrug and shove the butterscotch stick in your mouth. You suck on it pensively. It’s sweet but you can hardly enjoy it as your eyes burn with a glaze of tears.

“So,” he coughs, “what’s for dinner?”

You pop your lip off the candy, “it’s a surprise,” you say.

“Oh, I like surprises,” he smiles, not that he ever really stops. Not around you.

“Well, I hope you like this one,” you drone.

💝

You wash the plates from dinner as dessert bakes in the oven. The smell of cinnamon fills the house as you hear Arvin tinkering in the next room. He’s always messing around with something mechanical. You’re not always sure if he’s fixing them or just taking them apart.

You dry and stack the dishes away. The old house is cozy, quaint. You know it belonged to his parents. It’s still strewn with their memories. As if he’s preserving them in those walls. So you do your best not to disturb it.

You take the pan out of the oven. The rolled-out dough is perfectly baked and the colour is pristine. The shape resembles their namesake; elephant ears. It’s only dough, sugar, and cinnamon, but so so delicious. Your grandmother used to make them. Despite your current predicament, you’re nostalgic for the simper days.

You put one on a plate and peek at the doorway. You pause to dig out the parcel you hid under the sink then bring both items out to the front room. You keep the latter behind your back as you approach Arvin. He sits on the floor in front of the burning firestove as he pokes at an old clock with a screwdriver.

“Here ya go,” you offer him the dessert. “I could make some coffee or tea?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he puts down the clock and tool, then wipes his hand on the cloth draped over his knee. He reaches up to the take the plate. “Smells good.” He brings the dish down to examine the pastry, “what is it?”

“Called an elephant ear. Not super fancy.”

“Looks good,” he grins. “And what’s that?”

He lifts the baked dough and bites into it as he angles his head as if to see around you. You bring your hand out and present the parcel.

“Merry Christmas,” you say. “I know it’s not much, and a bit early but it’s gettin’ real cold.”

He places the plate on the rug and claps his hands off as he chews. His dark eyes sparkle as he takes the bundle wrapped in brown paper. He brings it over his lap and carefully unties the twine. You sway on your feet and rub your stomach as you watch anxiously.

He uncovers the knitted scarf and cap. He already has thick gloves that he wears for his work. He feels the wool and examines it quietly. You’re suddenly very unsure.

“You made these? For me?” He looks up. You nod. “Wow, it’s... you lined the cap?”

“I had a few old pieces I repurposed,” you shrug.

“It’s...”

“Not too much. I know. I’m sorry. I don’t make too much these days. People only hire me if no one knows and it’s gettin’ harder to sneak around.”

He huffs and shakes his head. He lowers his chin and pets the scarf. “It’s everything.” He continues to examine your work. “I hope you don’t mind, my gift’s not ready yet.”

“Oh, Arvin, you don’t gotta get me nothin’. You done enough.”

“I want to,” he says. “Now,” he lays down the wool on the rug neatly and grabs his plate. He uncrosses his legs and stands. “Why aren’t you havin’ some dessert? You need to sit down. Let that baby rest. He mustn’t sleep very much with you titterin’ around all the time.”

“He’s already titterin--” you go to argue and stop with snort. “I think he knows we’re talking about him.”

You feel your stomach as the baby kicks. Arvin watches your hand on your belly as his brows rise up his forehead. “You think it’s a boy?”

“Could be. Not too sure. Oof.” You twitch as the baby kicks harder. Then wince again as Arvin puts his hand on you without warning. It’s surprising but not unwelcome. His warmth seeps through your dress.

“Oh!” He exclaims as the baby beats on your insides. “I can feel him.”

“It’s a bit early,” you reach back to brace your hips, “he usually waits ‘til I’m in bed.”

He keeps his hand on you, watching your belly as the baby continues his dance. He seems awestruck by the ripple under your skin. You’re more exhausted of it.

“I’ll have your present ready soon,” he says. “Promise.”

💝

Arvin’s truck rumbles up to the house. You were surprised when he drove it into town today. He doesn’t usually start it unless he’s going to fetch firewood or going off for long trips.

You open the shed door, a blanket around your shoulders as you peek out. His headlights shine through the greyness. It’s still early by your count, unless you lost track again.

He hops out and stomps through the snow. He waves at you as his hair curls out from under the cap you made him. He wears it every day. You’re happy for that.

“Merry Christmas,” he calls out.

“Christmas... it’s still two days away,” you stay behind the door to shield yourself from the winds.

“Two days!” He claps as he approaches. “Since you gave me my gift early, I got yours ready too.”

“Mine?”

“Mmhm. You’re not the only one who can do surprises. So pack a bag.”

“Pack...” you wonder.

“Ah, ah, just get a bag, alright?”

You can see him jittering in excitement. You hate to dampen that but you also feel bad. You made him a hat and scarf. He’s got something planned out that’s gonna at least cost him gas and his time.

“Oh...” you murmur.

“Don’t,” he wags a finger. “Really, come on! I wanna get there by dark.”

“Alright, I’ll be fast.”

You gently close the door and retreat. You can’t deny him. His words trouble you though. By dark? How far are you going? You don’t want him to do too much.

You don’t have a lot to take. A few dresses that still fit, some stockings, your sole pair of boots, your coat, and other things just in case. It doesn’t sound like you’ll be coming back tonight.

You come out in your coat and boots as Arvin keeps the truck idling. He meets you near the hood and takes your bag before he helps you up into the front seat. He gets in the other side and puts your bag between you.

“Do I get a hint?” You ask.

“Nope,” he shifts into gear. “Just hold tight.”

💝

It’s a few hours before Arvin stops. Your eyes scour the sentinel pines all around and fall upon the painted wood of the cabin’s face. The porch pillars are stained a dark blue as the siding stands as white as the snow. It’s only the edgework along the window frames and door that make it visible amid the winterscape.

You gasp, “Arvin?”

“Surprise,” he exclaims.

“What...”

“My grandfather built this place. Ma’s dad. I been workin’ on it,” he proclaims.

“Workin’ on it?”

“Yep! Ma wouldn’t want you raisin’ that boy in a shed.”

You mull his words and stare at the cabin. “Arvin, my aunt--”

“I know, she’s a nice woman by the sounds of it. She can always come see us but you know, not many place around that’ll be as nice as her. Not when’s they see a mother with no husband.”

You shrink down. He’s right.

“But I’m not--”

“Like I was saying,” he interjects, “you’re gonna be a mama. Means you need a proper house.”

He doesn’t wait for you to argue. You don’t have any to offer as you reel in disbelief. Why would he do all this for you? It’s not his baby. You’re not his problem.

He comes around and offers his hand. You climb out, gripping him tightly, as you flick away your tears. You sniffle and keep your head down as he leads you across the snowy yard.

“You’re upset?” He asks as he kicks snow off the steps.

“I’m... surprised,” you croak, trying to hide your face. “Arvin, it’s too much.”

“Not much at all,” he counters. “But I got a new stove in and the fireplace real nice since I redid the bricks. And I got it all wired up to a gas generator.”

“Oh,” you puff out as you climb the steps, still latched onto him. You hiccup as your tears flood over.

“Oh?” He echoes.

“Arvin,” you babble behind your hand. “Why-- why would you go and do all this for me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” He tugs you toward the door.

“But...” you choke on your words.

You kick off your feet before you enter. He moves behind you, guiding you from behind with his hands on your arms. He stops you in a dark doorway. He lets go of you and you listen to him shifting around the dimness. He shines a flashlight into the front room.

“Once I get the lights on, it’ll look better,” he assures.

You shake your head, “it’s too much.”

“Nothin’s too much,” he argues again. “Look, you need this place and you need me. You need a husband, don’t ya?”

“Husband? Arvin, you can’t--”

“I wanna.”

“But--”

“Baby boy’s not mine. No one else needa know. Them folks in Knockemstiff, the don’t go so far. And the next one will be mine. Maybe a girl--”

“Next one?”

“Uh huh, gonna give this one lots of brothers and sisters,” he puts his hand on your stomach.

“I...” your heart sinks from on high.

He’s quiet, measuring the silence as you do too. You peer into the front room then wince as he turns the light in your direction. You shield yourself as it shines in your eyes.

“Well, you gonna tell me no?” His voice is low and silty. “Cause I don’t think no one’s gonna take you away from me. Ain’t no one else want you.”

It’s like a knife sinking into your gut. Your frown and grab his hand, trying to shove it off your stomach. Why would he say that? He twists free of your grasp and clings to you instead. He turns the light under his chin so it casts his features in a sinister glow.

“Without me, you and that baby’d be frozen to the side of the street,” he sneers. “All’s I’m tryna do is give you everything, you could at least do the same.”

#arvin russell #dark arvin russell #dark!arvin russell #arving russell x reader #the devil all the time #fic #december daze #navy and roo's sleepover #dark fic #dark!fic

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datsyuks · 1 year ago

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Winter Wonderland-Vince Dunn

(Note: Happy Hoildays! It's been crazy over here. Enjoy this piece featuring Mr. Hotter than Starbucks coffee Vince Dunn. Enjoy and stay safe. See you soon.)

Warnings: p in v, oral both f and m, spitting, one mention of alcohol.

Peering out the glass door you could tell the sky was getting darker. The grey clouds rolling in could only mean one thing: snow. The winter was always your favorite time of year. You had fond memories of waking up to the news of school being cancelled and spending all day outside with friends sleding or throwing snowballs. If it was as bad as the weather channel said it would be every surface of Seattle would be covered in thick fluffy flakes.

A sudden arm wraps around your middle makes you tense up until you got a whiff of his cologne. “Ready baby?” Vince asks lowly in your ear. His fingers spread out over your belly caging you between his hand and his chest. His other hand softly grabs your coat from over your arm.

You turn your head to look up at him, “let’s go home.” You could feel his excitement as soon as the word left your mouth. On your last visit to Seattle, you slipped up and called his condo “home”. At the time, it seemed to not faze him, but he hasn’t forgotten it. This trip you noticed he added a vanilla scented candle to his coffee table, a drawer in his bathroom with the exact skincare products you use, and the exact fleece throw blanket you commented on while in Target.

Vince holds your coat open, carefully sliding your arms in. Gathering your hair gently pulling it out of your coat and careful not to get any hair caught on your necklace. You grab his hand and he leds you outside to the awaiting car.

“I need to see this from the bedroom window!” You exclaim as you burst through the condo door. Not bothering to unclasp your heels, you head straight to the bedroom. His bedroom window was above any surrounding buildings making it the perfect place to see the snow. And it was well worth the wait. Snow covered every exposed area in a glitterly wonderland. even the bay was covered. The streets were turning abandoned as cars and people were turning in for the night.

“Enjoying the view?” Vince asks finally joining you by the window. He slips his right hand on your waist, massaging your hip.

“It’s beautiful.” You lay your head back on Vince’s chest. The snow was covering every surface by now and showed no signs of stopping. Even the bay was covered.

“It is.” Vince agrees and brings a glass to his mouth.

“Is that a drink? I thought we were going to drink together?” You ask. Vince leans over to set the now empty glass on the side table.

“Just a little bourbon. I didn’t want you to miss your view.”

While at dinner you talked about making drinks at home and talking about upcoming plans. One good thing about his schedule was that games and practice were always laid out weeks in advance.

You are both quiet as you gaze into the night sky. Vince’s hand skims down your hip to the slit in your dress. His hand feels warm against your bare thigh.

He turns his head and places little wet on your should leading up your neck to your earlobe where he gently bites.

A gasp leaves your mouth when his mouth continues back down your neck. His right hand moves up and he cups you through our underwear. Your hips involuntary grind against his hand.

His mouth continues to leave open mouth kisses on your neck, gently sucking at the place below your ear. "Vince," you whine, wetness already forming in your underwear. He doesn't answer as his hand movments seize. "Vince?", you try again, this time coming out like a question starting to turn around. "Stay," he orders and places his hands on your hips to keep you in place. You can see him on his knees behind you.

His hands move under your dress and hook into your underwear. Slipping them down your legs. He doesn't ask you to step out of them but gently picks up each foot and slips the underwear off throwing them somewhere behind him.

His hands ghost up your legs, spreading them apart until he is able get between them. He bunches up your dress into one of his hands and massages your butt with the other. He leaves wet kisses up the back of your thigh until he gets to your butt, which he gently bites.

"Don't move." He says as he situates himself between your legs with his head aginst the window.

You open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off attaching his mouth onto your clit.

Pleasure runs through your body as he continues flicking his tongue. "Ohmygod," you moan, not even caring that you are in front of his window anymore. His tongue slips inside a moment before he pulls it out. He adjusts his head trying to go deeper but it doesnt work. Pulling back he lets out a huff, "lift up," he demands, already picking up your leg to place it over his shoulder.

You wobble on your heel, holding to the window for support. He doesn't wait until you are stable before diving back between your thighs. The new placement of your leg on his shoulder gave him the access he needs to push his tongue further into you.

Reaching a hand down to his hair you give him a light tug, "im close baby," you rasp. The mix of his fingers digging into your thighs and his nose brushing against your clit has you going over the edge.

He leaves little kisses on the inside of your thigh before carefully placing your leg back on the ground.

The sudden realization hits you, "I cant belive you made me come in front of the window! What if someone is watching!"

Vince chuckles, "nobody is watching baby. This building towers over them all." He leans down for a kiss. His tongue immedailty finding its way into your mouth. His hand comes up to grab your chin and hold it firm as he spins you two around so now your back is against the glass.

The cold glass doesn't even faze your hot skin. Your hands come up to tangle in his hair and gently pull him back. Your chest heaves, "i want to make you feel good." Without breaking eye contact, you slide down the window and bring your hands up to unbuckle his pants. "You dont," he mumbles shyly, "you dont need to do that." His hand brushes through your hair.

"But i want to. And don't worry no body is watching" you jab back, innocently. With a smile on his face he shakes his head. Not breaking eye contact, you lick a strip up his length. His breathing becomes heavier watching you take him in your mouth. "Im not going to last long." He moans as you slide him out of your mouth, placing a kiss on his tip. "Keep me in your mouth," you listen to him and he shuffles foreward until your head is pressed right up against the glass. His slowly starts to move his hips, making you take him deeper in your mouth.

"You okay?" he asks, placing his hands on the glass. You could only nod. He picks up his pace slightly, hitting the back of your throat. You bring up one hand to rest on his thigh and the other plays with his balls.

"Ohmygod." he moans. "As much as I want to come in your mouth, I'd rather do it in your pussy."

He steps away and brings you up. "Hands on the glass." he says and slides into you with one motion. Moans leave both of your mouths as he pumps into you. He hikes up one of your legs, bringin him deeper into you. "Good girl," he says into your ear, "such a good girl for me. Allowing me to take you against the window. Letting everyone know your mine." He doesn't last any longer, spilling inside of you. He pumps a few more times before pulling out.

You notice the glass behind you is now foggy. Vince turns you around giving you another kiss. "That was amazing," you say, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Good." he says, pulling you in again. One of his hands trails down your body between your legs. He pushes two fingers in and holds your chin with his free hand. Curling them in and out, pushing them deeper he analzyes your face with every movement. Your breathing hikes up, "if you keep this up i'll come all over your hand." Vince stops and slides his fingers out, popping them into his mouth. "mmm" he groans, " we taste good. Wanna try? " You open your mouth for his fingers, but he angles himself above your mouth and spits into your mouth.

You can't even react as he slams his lips down on yours. The extra siliva makes it messier. You grip his hair to stablize yourself.

He pulls away, breathless. "Now that was amazing. You wanna to round two on the bed?"

You giggle. "Mmmmm, maybe?"

"Maybe?" he asks flabbergasted, "after that?

"What if i want round two in the shower?" you ask, innocently.

Vince's eyes widen for a second, before he breaks out into a smile, "baby, lead the way."

#nhl fanfiction #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn x reader #vince dunn blurb #v.dunn #vince dunn fanfic

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a-little-revolution · 2 months ago

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where do you shop for clothes? I’m plus size so I know the struggle of finding cute clothes when you’re not shaped the way corporations think you should be, and I’m very curious how you approach it

Hello! I mostly thrift my clothing, since I'm poor and plus size - a big thing for me is layering and accessorizing. I love mixing patterns, materials and textures to give a sort of bog witch meets howls moving castle vibe! I especially love thrift stores that mostly older women go to, so I can get a lot of old fashioned jewellery and things.

Plus size-wise I go for a lot of high waist-ed skirts and dresses, I've pretty much completely ditched pants because finding ones that fit me was always a nightmare (plus trying them on always felt so triggering and draining). When I do buy pants I never go for jeans or tight fit ones, but rather ones with draw strings. Overall leggings are far more size inclusive and I can wear fleece ones in the winter!

Overall I go for fairly cheap pieces and arrange them in colour pallets that I adore, and add a lot of fake pearls, scarves, crystals and jewellery!

Photo description: a series of five photos displaying various outfits within my style. I am a little person with curly green hair (also purple in a couple photos), pointy eyebrows, a beard and gold facial jewellery. The first photo is a mirror selfie of me sitting in my wheelchair at a local thrift store. I am wearing a dark green frilly shirt with a dark blue Lolita dress over it, and a duo-chrome pearl necklace. In the second photo I am wearing red high waist pants with vertical stripes, a sheer orange floral shirt with the top buttons undone, with white and red pearl necklaces. The third photo is another mirror selfie in a book shop, I am standing with my rollator and wearing a dark green dress with a long sleeve purple button up under it. I wear a few necklaces and a black and grey striped tie tied into a non traditional bow. The forth photo was taken by a friend of mine while I am smoking CBD on our porch. I am wearing a purple button up, orange vest, green skirt and green jacket covered in buttons and patches. My jewlery included gold sun earrings, pearl necklaces, and a piece of citrine on a chain. I am wearing round glasses and stars drawn where my eyebrows are shaved off. The last photo is a mirror selfie in the men's washroom where I wear a more punk style - a black tank top over a black and white striped shirt, a black beanie, white pearls and black necklaces. Hearts are drawn where my eyebrows are shaved off.

#me #asks #fashion #dwarfism blog #disabled #queer #nonbinary #they them #queer and disabled

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7s3ven · 1 year ago

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SANTA, TELL ME. draco malfoy

( master list )

IN WHICH… Draco Malfoy no longer enjoys Christmas, especially not when he has to stay at Hogwarts while all his friends are gone. But a certain bright-eyed Hufflepuff is glad to keep him company.

( draco x hufflepuff! reader )

“Santa, tell me if he really cares. ‘Cause I can’t give it all away if he won’t be here next year.”

Draco couldn’t remember when he had started to dislike Christmas. Maybe it was during his second year when he had to stay at Hogwarts for the winter and ever since then, he was required to do the same every year.

Draco mindlessly stared at the wrapped gifts his parents had sent him early. The cold Slytherin room was empty, everybody but Draco at home with their families.

The blond teenager was curled up on the soft couch, listening to the fire crackle and watching as the logs burned. Having had enough of wallowing in self pity, Draco slipped into a thick blazer and walked out of the common room.

He wandered around the halls, the sound of loud and joyful laughter catching his attention. He peeked out of the window, his nose slightly wrinkling when he saw Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. They were with two other girls that weren’t that annoying know-it-all, Hermione Granger.

Draco recognized one of them as Y/N L/N, a Hufflepuff who was unusually good at potions. The other girl was a dark-haired Ravenclaw with a stern beauty that contrasted Y/N’s soft features.

The group of four were playing in the snow, throwing it at each other and laughing when their noses turned red from the cold.

Y/N wore her yellow scarf which sorely clashed with her tight blue and white striped blouse, greyish-brown skirt, and puffy white jacket. She seemed to have fleece lined tights on because she wasn’t shivering.

Draco tore his eyes away from the happy friends and frowned. Even with his companions, they were never that carefree. But how Draco wished they could be. It must be great not having to worry about your every move and who you were friends with, who you liked, and who you were going to marry.

In a way, he envied Y/N. She was a pureblood brought up by muggle parents with no harsh expectations or demands.

On paper, she was a sacred pure but in every Slytherin’s eyes, she would always be an outcast. She was at every prestigious party in her bright and stunning yellow dresses, effortlessly sticking out like a sore thumb.

Draco released a sigh and ran a hand through his blond hair. He didn’t know what to do with Blaise and all his other friends gone. He had heard Nott was going on a trip to Paris. Wonderful.

Pansy was going to Italy.

Crabbe and Goyle were planning to visit a famous restaurant in London.

Millicent Bulstrode was going to New York.

And Matteo… the poor son of Lord Voldemort was stuck in the same orphanage his father had landed in decades ago. In the same room too.

Draco walked with no destination in mind until he ended up at the front gates of Hogwarts. He looked up, staring as the snowflakes dropped. Slowly, he stepped forward into the thick snow. He sank down into it and the cold offered a strange sense of comfort.

He had not been planning to go outside so he was wrongly dressed. Draco shivered slightly as the snow landed on his pale face. His cheeks were flushed red and his hands felt frozen. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were.

“You’re going to catch a cold.”

Draco hadn’t even noticed Y/N approaching him, her scarf in her hand. “If you plan to stay outside,” She uttered, trying to hand him the yellow clothing, “At least wear this.”

Draco looked her up and down, wondering why she was even talking to him. All he did was bully her friends, at least the ones in Gryffindor. Draco and his posse seemed to leave everybody else alone.

“You helped me last month. So I’m returning the favor.” Y/N brightly smiled and Draco felt his face heat up, much to his dismay.

Draco thought for a moment before he realized what Y/N was talking about. It was true, he had helped her but only because that boy who was trying to flirt with Y/N was making a fool of Slytherin and he didn’t approve of making girls uncomfortable.

“Ah.” Draco murmured, staring down at the scarf. He slowly reached out to grab it. “He deserved it.”

“Matteo punched him.” Y/N piped up, reminding Draco of what had happened. Yes, Matteo had punched the idiotic boy while Draco stood on the sidelines, merely watching. “His nose started bleeding. I’m all for defending people but was that necessary?”

“He’s done it before. Matteo only wanted to teach him a lesson. Sexual harassment is no joke. That boy has tried peeking up girl’s skirts so my statement still stands. He deserved it.” Draco uttered it more firmly this time.

“Where is Matteo anyway?” Y/N looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of the brunette boy. “I thought he would’ve stayed behind.”

“I’m not sure why he went back to the orphanage.” Draco wasn’t the best at small talk, especially not with friendly people. But Y/N didn’t seem to notice as she rambled on.

She was relatively good friends with Matteo. She was one of the few who could get away with talking to him and not receiving a glare in return.

“He told me he was staying behind but maybe he didn’t want to be alone again, since he assumed you were leaving too. He kind of envies you and your family trips. He’s envious because you actually have a family.” Y/N paused, slowly covering her mouth. “Ah… I wasn’t supposed to tell you that… sorry.”

She lifted her head, locking gazes with Draco. “You’ll… keep this between us, right?” She sheepishly smiled, “I swear I don’t usually spill people’s secrets…”

Draco shrugged. “I wouldn’t be able to do much with that information anyway.” The blond hair turned around to walk away, but he realized he was still holding Y/N’s scarf. “I changed my mind. I’m going back inside. I assume you’ll be staying out here for a while so take this back. We don’t want you to freeze.”

Draco wrapped Y/N’s scarf around her neck, nodding. There was a slither of a smile on his lips before he spun around and strutted off.

“Why were you talking with Malfoy?” Harry approached Y/N as soon as Draco left.

She hummed in surprise and slightly jumped. “What? Oh. He’s not so bad. He’s actually… somewhat nice.”

Harry scoffed and rolled his emerald green eyes. “Malfoy? Nice? As if. Anyway, we’re going to walk around the pine woods. Wanna join?”

Y/N shook her head and beamed. “No. I’m good. I’m a little tired so I’ll see you inside.” Harry smiled back at her before jogging over to Ron and Anna, the Ravenclaw girl.

Y/N pushed past the large wooden doors, walking back into the warmth of the Hogwarts castle. The fire in the Great Hall crackled as Y/N entered, intent on warming her hands. But she found Draco standing in front of the Christmas tree, staring at it in wonder and awe and sadness.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Y/N snuck up behind Draco, startling him.

“Jeez! Merlin’s sake, L/N, don’t sneak up on me like that!” Draco stormed out of the Great Hall while Y/N poured and huffed.

“Hmph. What’s his problem? He was fine before.” She shook her head in annoyance as she warmed her freezing body by the fireplace. “Slytherins really are bipolar…”

Though, Y/N couldn’t help but feel sorry for Draco. She knew he was the only one in the common room because Matteo had told her everybody always went home. Pansy confirmed it.

Y/N and Pansy weren’t close but they had worked on a group project together and for along relatively well. Unbeknownst to Y/N, Pansy tried her best to hate the kind Hufflepuff but she never could.

Y/N could hear footsteps approaching the hall and assuming it was Harry, Y/N didn’t turn around. She should’ve because as soon as she caught sight of blond hair in a reflection, she knew it was Draco.

“Come to yell at me some more?” She asked, a joking tone to her question.

“You helped decorate the Great Hall, right?” Draco inquired, getting straight to the point.

“Yeah, I guess so. Why?”

“I need you to decorate the Slytherin common room.” Draco held up a pouch of money, “I’m willing to pay.”

Y/N glanced at him as he jingled the coins. She shrugged. “Nah. I’ll do it for free. Let’s go!” She linked arms with Draco and dragged him to the supply closet where the extra decorations were being been kept.

“Why do I need to help you?” Draco grumbled as Y/N shoved the boxes into his arms. She huffed.

“What? You think I could carry all this by myself? Hey,” She poked Draco’s shoulder, “There’s things even I can’t do alone. Besides, you’re strong. Use it for something helpful.”

Y/N turned away, which relieved Draco because he refused to let her see his flushed cheeks.

“Wow, it really isn’t decorated at all. That’s surprising, especially on Christmas Eve. The Hufflepuff common room is almost too shiny with all the tinsel.” Y/N looked around the Slytherin Chamber in disappointment. At least they had their Christmas tree up, though it was a very sad and bland one. She frowned. “How do you guys live like this?”

“I helped you carry the boxes. I trust you’ll be able to do the rest.” Draco dropped the boxes full of decorations and hurried off.

“Huh? Wait! You don’t expect me to do it alone! I need to socialise! I’ll die if I don’t talk to people!”

Draco slammed his dorm door shut, making Y/N sigh. “He’s only nice when Matteo is around.” She mumbled, “Does he have a crush on him or something? I wouldn’t be surprised. He keeps turning down girls, even Pansy. And she’s gorgeous.”

Y/N sorted through all the tinsel, sighing. “I suppose if I were a boy, I’d go for Pansy. Or Hermione. Maybe Luna?” She picked all the green tinsel strings, making sure to leave every single red-colored one in the box.

“Daphne Greengrass or whatever her name is would be a good choice too.” Y/N uttered as she wrapped the green tinsel around the stair rail. “Hm, who else? Ah! Cho Chang! Cedric sure is lucky to be dating her. I’m almost jealous!”

Y/N sighed as she hung ornaments on the lonely Christmas tree. “Ginny would also be on the list I guess. She’s a total badass. Why won’t Harry notice her? If I were him, I’d fall in love instantly.”

She checked fireplace, and made sure to add some more wood to the flames to keep them ignited. “Pansy, Hermione, Luna, Daphne, Cho, and Ginny. A strong lineup. What about the boys? Matteo is handsome but I only see him as a friend. Lorenzo I would get with. Cedric? Maybe. Oliver? Yes. Dating Harry or Ron would be a little weird so maybe not. Besides, I ship Hermione and Ron.”

This went on for quite some time. Y/N had made amazing progress while talking to herself. The chamber was almost unrecognisable. Draco, who was cooped up in his room, clenched his jaw. He was covering his ears, trying to ignore Y/N’s annoying rambling.

But she kept talking. Over and over again. About useless topics too. Finally, Draco had enough. He pulled open his door and was about to yell something until he heard Y/N mention his name.

“Draco? Hm… I don’t know. Am I supposed to call him Malfoy? I feel like we’re on relatively good terms. Would I date him? A solid maybe. He’s so handsome but he’s a little bipolar. If only he was a little nicer. I wouldn’t mind kissing him.”

Draco slowly lifted his head, hanging onto every word Y/N spoke. If he was a little nicer… she’d kiss him?

“I’m going out. The room looks great. Thanks, Y/N.” Draco hurriedly grabbed her hand, pressing an innocent kiss to her knuckles before he hurried off.

“Did he… just say thank you?” Y/N huffed in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard his say that.” She looked at her hand, still able to feel the ghost of Draco’s lips against her skin.

Draco had never been a nice person from the start but he figured the way to Y/N’s heart was to get on neutral terms with Potter.

Speaking of the devil, Draco could see Harry, Ron, and Anna walking into the castle.

“Morning, Potter.” Draco uttered as he passed the trio, trying his best not to scowl. “And Weasley and, I’m sorry, I don’t know your last name but I like your black hair.”

Once Draco was out of earshot, Ron and Harry shared a disturbed look. “Was he… poisoned or something?” Ron asked, “I prefer when Malfoy’s mean! It’s scary when he’s nice.”

“Hey, guys!” Y/N jogged towards her friends, wildly waving at them. “Have you guys seen Draco?”

“Yeah. He went that way. But he was acting super weird. What did you say to him to make him greet us and tell Anna he likes her hair.” Ron scoffed, “Or did you slip a potion into his drink?”

“Huh? I didn’t say anything!” Y/N exclaimed. She paused. “Oh… well, I did say I would kiss him if he was a little nicer. But I was talking to myself.”

“Bloody hell, Y/N.” Harry uttered. “Malfoy probably fancies you.”

“What?” Y/N tilted her head to the side.

“If you think about it, it makes sense.” Anna retorted. “I mean, he’s always trying to talk to you. He doesn’t bully you and he seems to stay away from bullying your friends as well. I mean, Harry and Ron and ‘Mione excluded.”

Y/N sighed. “That doesn’t prove anything. Do you know where he went? I need to ask him about the decorations. I’m decorating the Slytherin chamber.”

“He walked outside. Probably to Hogsmeade to go on a shopping spree for himself.” Ron quietly scoffed.

“Tell me if you see him, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Y/N walked back to the chamber, staring at the work she had done. The Slytherin common room looked much more comforting and welcoming now. She smiled proudly, placing her hands on her hips.

“Looks good, Y/N.” She happily high-fived herself. Y/N sat down on the couch, slightly slouching. She waved her wand around while mumbling a small charm, smiling as snowflakes floated around.

Hours eventually passed and Draco still hadn’t returned. Y/N had finished decorating and she had refurbished the fire as well. She was so bored she eventually found a way into Draco’s dorm and cleaned it too.

“Santa, tell me, if you’re really there. Don’t make me fall in love again if he won’t be here next year.” Y/N quietly sang, humming the beat to the muggle song. She had went to fetch Hermione’s gift, a small radio that played all kinds of songs. Y/N was enjoying it very much.

She grinned as she happily swung her legs. She stood up to check on the fire, slightly dancing.

The chorus played again, and this time Y/N sang louder.

At that time, Draco walked in. He froze, watching as Y/N surprisingly hit all the high notes in the Ariana Grande song.

Draco slowly smiled, strutting towards Y/N. He tapped her shoulder, “You’re a good singer.” He complimented her.

“Oh… thanks. What took you so long? I finished ages ago.”

“And you didn’t leave?”

“I, uh… didn’t wanna leave you alone.” Y/N sheepishly smiled. “Oh, what’s that?” She pointed at the bag in Draco’s arms. “A gift for your friend?”

“I guess you could say that… but she’s not really my friend. More like someone I owe.” Draco held out the bag, shoving it into Y/N’s hands. “For you. Merry… early Christmas.”

Draco looked away, trying to his his reddening ears.

Y/N tilted her head to the side before she opened the bag, gasping softly. “What the… Draco… this must’ve cost a fortune.” Inside was a freshly pressed Burberry blazer.

“I overheard that you were going to Paris in Winter next year and it snows there occasionally, so I bought you something to keep you warm.”

“Oh… it’s lovely, Draco.” Y/N smiled, feeling the fabric. “I love it. Thank you… so much.” She couldn’t contain her laugh of happiness.

“That’s not all.” Draco reached in, pulling out a jewelry box. “Vivienne Westwood.” He uttered, showing her the beautiful silver necklace.

Y/N gasped again. “You didn’t have to do this… you spent way too much money, Draco.”

“I wanted to do this. Consider it my thanks for decoration. It looks great. Turn around so I can put this on you.”

Y/N slowly spun around, feeling Draco’s cold hands against her neck. He gently pushed her hair aside, lingering for a moment too long. He put the necklace around her neck, carefully clasping it.

“Thank you.” Y/N grasped the pendant, smiling. “I love it. And I love the blazer too.”

Draco was still standing behind her, not wanting to move as he inhaled the smell of her sweet perfume.

“Y/N.” He whispered, “Can I…” Draco hesitated, “Can I kiss you?”

“What?” Y/N turned around in shock, staring at him with wide eyes. Draco, misunderstanding it as rejection, frowned.

“Sorry. I just blurted it out. I didn’t mean it.”

The clock in the common room loudly chimed as it reached twelve o’clock, a reminder of what day it was now. Christmas.

Y/N reached out, grabbing Draco and pulled him forward. She quickly kissed him and shyly pulled away, her cheeks flushed bright red just like Draco’s ears.

“Merry Christmas, Draco.”

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