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girlrotterr · 2 months

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Trails of Sweetness.

farm!ellie x fem!reader Summary: ellie's a worker at your family's peach farm. a/n: another fic for you angels!! tysm for the support on my last fic!!

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You awoke at 8:00, stretching tiredly in bed before drawing back the curtains. The early morning sun filled your room with a warm glow, inviting the essence of summer. The peach trees stood tall and elegant, their leaves dancing in the summer breeze. Opening the window, the fresh air surrounded you, the sun illuminating the meadow. A view of vibrant oranges and reds painted the sky.

The field surrounding the farm with life—blooming flowers, buzzing bees, and the cheerful chirping of birds. The morning wind, so gentle on your skin.

With a final glimpse out the window, you began your routine.

The sink's tap gushed water as you brushed your teeth, taking a moment to run a brush through your hair, gently working out the knots from last night's rest. Finally, completing your routine by making your bed, the soft cotton sheets and pillowcases soothed beneath your fingertips.

Now, in your usual peach-picking outfit—denim overalls paired with a delicate lace tank top, hair tied back with a red ribbon—you slipped into your rusty dark brown boots.

Breakfast can wait; I need to head out there!

You headed downstairs with your basket in hand, swung open the front door, and…

There it was – the breathtaking meadow. The view never failed to amaze you. With a skip in your step, you headed towards the peach trees, eager to begin the day's harvest.

You began approaching the first tree heavy with peaches, the rosy, plump fruits dangling like ornaments, ready to be picked.

“Hello sweeties!" you exclaimed excitedly, reaching to pick them.

Snatch!

Suddenly, the peach was ripped off by an arm behind you.

"What—" You quickly turned around, wanting to know who had robbed your peach.

andd..of fucking course.

"It's ripe," Ellie said, bouncing the peach in her hand.

"No, really?" you said sarcastically, looking at her with pure annoyance.

Ellie smirked at you before taking a bite out of the peach. Her teeth sank into the juicy fruit, a burst of sweetness exploding in her mouth. Peach juices squelched and dribbled down her chin, glistening in the sunlight like liquid gold. A run of juice trailed down her fingers, leaving a sticky residue. The pure sweetness coated her lips.

"Yeah, definitely ripe," she said, wiping her mouth while looking at you.

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to feed into Ellie's remarks. "What are you even doing out here?"

"I figured you needed a taste tester," Ellie said while smiling cheekily, the peach in her hand glistening.

Ellie had become part of the farm last summer, when your family needed extra hands. She effortlessly adapted, and it irked you how perfect she was. Harvesting a week's worth of peaches in just three days.

Since she joined, you found yourself distracted. The fields and peach trees, once the entire focus of your attention, now had competition with the disruption that was Ellie.

Her demeanor and mischievous smiles...

god..you couldn’t resist it.

A part of you craved that distraction.

"I can decide that on my own," you said, taking the peach from Ellie's hand.

Squelch!

The sound of teeth sinking into a ripe peach.

Biting into the area she had bitten, the sweet juices burst into your mouth, flowing down your chin and onto your collarbones. The warmth of the sun beamed down onto you, the sticky sweetness running down onto your chest, almost staining your tank top.

"Fuck… you're messier than me," Ellie said, her eyes fixed on the trails of juices along your skin. They slid down perfectly.

Ellie reached her hand out, gathering the sticky sweetness alongside her fingertips. She slid her fingers along your skin, tracing your chin and collarbones. The warmth of her touch left a new trail, a trail of heat. Slowly she brought her fingers to her lips, a mischievous look in her eyes.

Her tongue darted out, delicately licking the peach juices off her fingers. She was doing this on purpose, she wanted to tease you.

"Mmm..." A smirk played on Ellie's lips as she licked her fingers clean.

You looked at Ellie in embarrassment, completely flushed.

"You're a real sicko," you said, grabbing Ellie's hand and placing the bitten peach into her hands once again.

Ellie smirked. "aw, don't be mean." She looked at you, a stare so irresistible. “I helped you clean up.”

“hm…you missed a spot,” you said, gathering the trail of peach juices along your chest. Bringing your finger to Ellie's lip, rubbing the peach juices along them. Her lips were now covered in a glossy sweetness

Ellie's eyes widened, your sudden touch sending shivers down her spine. Your fingers moved achingly slow as they traced her soft pink lips, the warmth of your touch leaving her entranced. Fuck, she thought to herself, her gaze fixed on you. A part of her had imagined this scenario before, but instead of peach juices, it was your own juices spread across her lips.

“You're terrible at helping,” you said cheekily, turning your back away from her. Beginning to pick peaches, your original focus.

Your sudden remark made Ellie snap out of her trance. She bit her lip, fucking needing you; craving to have you bury your cunt against her face, squeezing your thighs against her head, suffocating her in ecstasy. Ellie gave you a soft chuckle, “I’ll leave you to it then.”

She turned around, walking away, feeling the peach in her hand—the softness of it and the sweetness running down her wrists. The texture of the peach was warm against her skin, the sticky juices tracing down her fingers.

She began walking a little quicker now, her steps becoming heavier, her grip tightening on the peach. The fruit was wet and warm against her palm. The juices, still fresh and sweet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck... Ellie's mind raced as she practically sprinted towards the tool shed—urgency in her steps. With a swift motion, she banged the door open, slamming it closed behind her, leaning against the wooden wall. In desperation, she unbuckled her belt, swiftly loosening it. Shoving her hand down her boxers, feeling her wet cunt along her warm fingertips.

“Fuckk.., you made me soo fucking wet…” she mumbled to herself, slowly gliding her fingers against her slit. Her wetness coated her fingers while gripping the peach firmly, it squelching in her hands.

She brought the peach up to her mouth, sticking her tongue out to lick the area where you had bitten. Circling her puffy clit, huffs escaped her lips, moaning heavily against it. The sweetness of the peach's juices coated her tongue as she ran it up and down the fruit, pretending it was your sweet cunt.

“Nghhh..wanna eat..it..soo bad..” Her hips began bucking against her fingers, her pace quickening. She threw her head back, hitting the shed’s wooden wall with a harsh thud. “Mmm! Fuckkk!…”

Ellie's fingers pressed into the peach’s soft flesh, the once smooth surface becoming tainted with bruises and tears. With each squeeze, the peach's delicate skin burst, releasing sticky juices that dripped down Ellie's hand and onto the shed floor. The peach, once a symbol of sweetness, now lay in Ellie's hand as something grotesque.

“You’re- ngh.. a fucking tease..” Ellie shut her eyes closed, simply picturing your pretty pussy against her mouth. “t-touching my fucking..lips–”

Click!

A rush of panic ran through Ellie as she heard the doorknob turn. "Shit." Her heart pounded in her chest, and with a sudden urgency, she tried to fix her clothes. But the door was already halfway open by the time she reached for her belt.

You walked into the shed, focused on finding a stool for reaching higher peaches. However, your attention completely shifted as you laid eyes on Ellie. She stood before you, her auburn hair disheveled and clinging to her flushed face. Her right arm and mouth glistened with peach juices. Her belt hung loosened, revealing her boxers. Both your widened eyes met.

Ellie's mouth opened to speak, but no words came out. She was fucking caught.

The tension in the air was thick, silence filled the shed, the only sound being Ellie's shaky breathing.

You slowly closed the shed door, leaning against the shed door, a playful grin forming on your lips. “holy..shit.”

Ellie stood frozen, her wide eyes remained fixed on you, not a muscle in her body moving.

“Ellie, what-”

"I was just— I was looking for—...fuck." Ellie muttered, frustration in her voice. She threw her head back against the wooden wall, closing her eyes and scrunching her nose in defeat. She couldn’t get out of this.

You stepped closer to Ellie, taking in the view. Her veiny hand tightly gripping the disfigured peach, her happy trail completely exposed, her freckled face completely flushed. She’s a complete mess.

"You really are a fucking sicko," you said with a teasing grin.

Ellie shook her head, still avoiding eye contact. "If you hadn't walked in—"

You interrupted her, grabbing her wrist and pushing the peach close to her face. "You would've fucked this."

Ellie scoffed, a smirk playing on her lips. "I'm not that fucking gross."

With a grin, you pushed the peach even closer to her mouth, the juices now trailing down your hand. "You're gross enough to cum to it,” you teased.

Annoyance grew in Ellie's eyes as she finally looked at you. A mixture of irritation and frustration in her expression. Irritated that you had walked in, annoyed that you now held this over her. Frustrated that you had witnessed her this deranged.

You let go of her wrist, wiping your wet hand along her white tank top, slightly dampening it. Your palm slowly brushing against her nipples, causing Ellie to flinch slightly. Looking down at Ellie's other hand, you notice her slightly pruned index finger. You bite your bottom lip, trying not to laugh at her eagerness.

“I’ll let you get back to it.” You say tauntingly, giving Ellie a smirk before turning away to open the shed door. Suddenly, feeling a tight grip on your hip, the force swaying you to turn around.

Ellie's hand tightened its grip on your hip bone, pulling you intensely close to her body. Her loosened belt now grazed your lower stomach, the coolness of it sent shivers down your spine.

"Don't fucking say anything to anyone," she threatened, her husky voice against your lips. Your eyes met Ellie's, her gaze piercing through you.

fuckk..

Her gaze only fueled you to taunt her further. The way her stare pierced into yours with intensity sent a thrill down your body, knowing that your actions were affecting her in ways she couldn't hide.

"Scared that people will know how pathetic you are?" you teased, earning a forceful pull from Ellie, your body bumping against hers. Now, your lips were mere centimeters away, her intense stare locking onto yours.

"I'm serious...please," she pleaded, her grip loosening as desperation filled her eyes. She was completely vulnerable, her dominance crumbling before your eyes.

“hm...” your voice was low as you slid your hands along Ellie's body. Tracing the curve of her abdomen up to her neck, Her skin felt incredibly hot under your touch.

"I could always tell a different story…” you suggested, looking up at Ellie. Bringing your lips closer to Ellie's ear, you lightly brushed against her skin. The intense heat between your bodies filled the shed, leaving no room for anything else.

“If we make one.”

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie fanfic #ellie smut #farm ellie

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 4 months

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[9:18 pm]

Your eyes were locked on the Christmas movie on the TV, cuddled up under a fluffy, snowflake print blanket. A mug of hot chocolate on the side table to your right and dad!Jaemin on the floor in front of you. Your son was busy banging his toys against the ground before shoving them in his mouth.

"No baby, not in your mouth," you hear Jaemin repeat for the hundredth time.

Your son, responds by blowing an extra wet raspberry in his dad's direction while dropping the toy. He clumsily turns over onto his knees and starts crawling away from his dad.

The stuffed antlers on the hood of his hood wiggle while he crawls away leaving you with a view of a cute reindeer on his bottom. You snort, watching his chubby hands smack against the floor while he quickly moved across the rug to his overflowing basket of toys. A basket of toys that would soon get even more added to the collection when your son opened his Christmas gifts. You made a mental note to go through the pile and get rid of old toys, toys that no longer held your son's interest, and toys that were just plain annoying.

He soon grew bored of the blocks he was chewing on and crawled over to the brightly lit Christmas tree. The lights were sparkling, light bouncing off the ornaments and other sparkly decorations that only grabbed your son's attention more. Ornaments and decorations that you had already had to move two feet up to keep out of his reach.

Your son was smart, he already knew he didn't like how the bristles of the Christmas tree felt against his hand, there were no more ornaments within his reach to pull on, but there was a new addition. A lot of new additions colorfully wrapped and topped off with shiny bows and strings of bright ribbon. Bags filled with vibrant tissue paper and characters plastered on the sides.

Jaemin's eyes turned from the screen to the rustling sound. He sighed deeply, picking up the baby and placing him in front of his toys again, "No touching, Bub."

A few minutes later you heard the sound of paper ripping and a toy talking in the usual peppy, high pitched voice that toys always had, "No, more. Play with your toys."

This time you kept your eyes on your son, watching as he threw a toy across the room toward the tree and crawled after it. "Ah ah ah, little monster. You're in cuddle jail now," you stopped him before he could make it half way. You pulled him onto the couch with you, cradling him in your arms and tucking the blanket in around his small body.

Jaemin laughed as the baby struggled in your hold with whines and his newly acquired skill of fake crying- which sounded a lot like his new fake laughs. The toys were picked up and soon enough your son was cuddled up between both parents, no chance of escape.

"I think it's time for a bottle, so my baby boy can go to sleep. We'll need all the energy we can get for tomorrow," you mutter.

Jaemin agrees, stepping into the kitchen and returning a few minutes later with a bottle. He lays your son in his arms, rocking him back and forth while your son holds his own bottle. Jaemin begins telling him all about Christmas, the breakfast you'll all eat, the presents you'll open together, the cookies you've left out for Santa, and how Santa will bring new toys that your son will love. His voice is a soft coo, a smile on his face with his gentle whispers.

Your son is blinking slowly, no longer drinking the milk in his bottle, head hanging back in his usual position for sleep when a loud, "Alright! We'll play later!", sounds from under the Christmas tree. Your son's eyes snap open as he startles awake. He turns under the tree, slowly and sleepily squirming in Jaemin's hold.

Jaemin shushes him, easing him back to sleep with movements that had been perfected in your son's short 10 months of life. You hold your breath all the while, scared that any little noise will wake him up again. The volume on the TV has already been lowered, you're frozen under the blanket watching Jaemin continue to rock your son to sleep just to be safe.

After a good 10 minutes you release the breath you were holding with an almost inaudible, "We have to return that toy."

"Already ahead of you, love," Jaemin smiles, showing you his phone screen with the receipt for the toy pulled up.

You lean forward to kiss him quickly, your forehead pressed to his, "I'm so lucky to have you."

He smiles brightly at you, a smile that challenges the dazzling lights of the Christmas tree in the corner of your living room, "I'm even more lucky, for both of you."

tagging! @jaeminnanaaa17

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #jaemin fluff #jaemin imagines #jaemin x reader #jaemin timestamps #jaemin blurbs

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thebearer · 7 months

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autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place |carmen berzatto x reader|

prompt: target, halloween, carmen, and you. or a short, fluffy work about halloween shopping with target bc why not? 'tis the season.

contains: fluff. that's it lol. mentions to past family memories and some insecure carmen, but honestly just fluff!

“Oh, look at this one!” You coo, snatching the tiny ghost figurine off the shelf.

“Cute.” Carmen muttered, one hand on the obnoxiously red cart, the other on your lower back. “Put it in.” He nodded towards the cart that was slowly starting to fill up.

The speakers droned out some dull pop song, your coffee and his melting away in the drink carriers on the cart. Carmen didn’t usually prefer Starbucks, much more of a fan of the local coffee spot a block over from The Bear. They knew his regular, made it for him as soon as he walked in. No fuss, no forced conversation- just the way he liked it.

But you liked Starbucks, well, in the right circumstance. You liked going to Target, you liked having a coffee to sip on while you “browsed”. Browsed, Carmen had grinned when you told him that.

“You don’t just go out and browse sometimes? Look at things? Window shop to make yourself feel happier?” You’d asked him earlier in the car, head tilting to the side.

“No, baby. I, uh, I don’t.” Carmen looked over at you, his hand still holding yours in the center console. “But maybe you’re onto somethin’.”

Carmen’s lack of decorations was deemed a crime in your eyes, which inspired the trip. Halloween trinkets filling the cart, the sly smile you’d give him when you’d slip another one in, just like you were doing now.

“It’s my treat.” You’d remind him, with a little wink. Carmen let you think that. Like he’d ever let you pay. And miss out on a chance to spoil you? No way.

“Where’re you gonna put all this?” Carmen hummed, watching you situate the tiny ghost next to the plastic cauldron and iridescent ornaments- something you saw on TikTok that you were going to attempt to DIY. “My place isn’t that big.”

“I’ll find a place, don’t worry.” You hum, sliding back in beside him, swiping your cup out of the basket. “You’ve got a bathroom, and the kitchen, and the bedroom-”

“-Bedroom?” Carmen grinned lightly, his hand snaking to your waist while his free hand pushed the cart. “You gonna put this creepy shit in there?”

“It’s not creepy.” You huff at him. “It’s cute, festive. Makes the place feel more… homey.”

Carmen decided then, he’d let you put a full fucking skeleton in his room if it made you feel that way. He’d get rid of all his shit, didn’t need it anyways, so you’d have room for all your holiday stuff. Carmen’s heart fluttered at the thought of what Christmas would look like. Would you put up a tree? He hoped you would. He’d go and chop one down if he had to. Where in Chicago he’d find a tree? He wasn’t sure, but he’d find one for you. If it made you as happy as this did.

“Ok,” You pulled him out of his thoughts, stopping the cart lightly. You plucked the bright orange bag up. “Did you know these are my absolute weakness?” Pumpkin shaped Reese’s, in their bright orange and purple glory.

“Yeah?” Carmen grinned. “This is it, huh?”

“Yes, in any shape too. But I prefer the pumpkin.” You went to set it back, Carmen’s hand grabbing the bag lightly and putting it in the cart.

“‘M more of a Christmas Tree fan.” Carmen shrugged. “You know Cicero- uh, Jimmy-” You nodded, slipping back into his side. “He, uh, he used to bring a bag of these to Christmas every year when I was little. He’d always have to hide ‘em, ya know? My dad… My dad didn’t want us havin’ all that sugar before dinner. Jimmy would come in where all the kids were, toss ‘em to me or Mikey or Richie when he started hangin’ around. Tell us not to get caught, and Merry Christmas, and hide the evidence. We’d eat them before goin’ to Mass, and he did it every year until I got in high school.”

You smiled softly, hand sliding down his back. “That’s sweet.” You hum, squeezing his hip lovingly. “You should get him some for Christmas this year. Return the favor.”

“Yeah,” Carmen scoffed lightly. “Yeah, I think he’d like that.”

A silence fell between the two of you, chatter from the surrounding people, the scratchy-screech of the cart. Carmen’s heart hammered, mind racing. Why the fuck did you tell her that? Fuckin’ ruined the moment. Stupid, fuckin’ stupid.

“Hey, uh,” Carmen’s hands shook lightly, fingers drumming on the red plastic over the cart. “I-I didn’t mean to… ‘m sorry, I didn’t mean to say all that, ya know? Ruin the-the… I just, I dunno, you said that and-and I-”

“-What?” You asked softly, brows creasing lightly. “What are you talking about? Say what?”

“The, uh, the thing with Jimmy. I-I didn’t mean to make it awkward-”

“Why is it awkward?” You pressed, setting down the candle you were smelling. “I thought it was sweet.”

“Yeah? I-I just… I dunno why I said it, I’m sorry.” Carmen rambled, a hand falling over his face, hoping you couldn’t see the blush growing over his face.

“Don’t be sorry, Carm. There’s nothin’ to be sorry about.” You shook your head, waving him off. “It’s a sweet story. I like that you told me that.”

“Yeah?” Carmen asked softly.

You nodded, smiling at him. “You know I do, bear.” The nickname rolls off your tongue so effortlessly, calmly- Carmen’s sure he’s going to melt into the floor.

“Here,” You twist the lid off the next candle. “This one has caramel. You like that, right?”

Carmen wasn’t sure how you remembered that. He’d mentioned it once, in passing, that he liked whatever you were burning at your apartment when he was over. It was caramel and coffee, you’d remembered, because you showed up at his house with the same candle the next day. A love present, you’d called it, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You didn’t want anything in return, no strings, just buying him something because you wanted to; because he liked it. It was still a new concept to Carmen, how you could love him without wanting anything other than love in return.

Carmen ducked down, the brim of his hat bumping your wrist lightly. “Yeah, I like that one.” He nods. “Smells like that other one.”

“Yeah? Not too pumpkinny?” You tilt your head to the side.

“No.” Carmen laughs, breathy and light. “I don’t smell any pumpkin. Is there pumpkin?”

“Caramel Pumpkin Latte.” You tilt the label towards him. “They’re saying it’s in there.” Carmen hummed lightly. “You calling them a liar?” You giggle playfully.

“No, but I am sayin’ there’s not pumpkin in there.” Carmen snorted lightly, putting the candle in the cart anyways. “Not real pumpkin, anyways.”

“Maybe if this chef thing doesn’t work out, you could be a candle critic.” You tease, falling into slow steps beside him. “Be a candle blogger or something.”

“Candle blogger?” Carmen repeats with an amused smile. “That’s not real.”

You look at him, eyes wide in excitement. “Oh, Berzatto, am I about to blow your mind.”

“No? Really?” Carmen laughed. “You’re fuckin’ with me?”

“No! It’s a real thing, Carmen.” You laugh, pulling out your phone. “There was this woman that, like, went viral because she was going insane about Bath and Body Works not having her candle or something.” You giggle, typing slowly in the search bar.

“That’s fuckin’ insane.” Carmen rolled his eyes.

“Yeah.” You smirk. “Think she might’ve started a trend.”

“Well, can’t do that then.” Carmen shrugged, loading the items on the small platform at the self checkout. “Don’t wanna go up against her, baby. She’s intense.”

“Yeah, good call.” You grin, pocketing your phone, opening the bags while he scanned the ghost. “Guess you’ll have to stick to cooking.”

“Guess so.” Carmen muttered, putting the plush pumpkins in the bag, reaching for his wallet.

“Eh! No!” You click your tongue, eyes flashing at him. “I told you I was buying it.” You put a hand over the card slot, glaring at Carmen with a frown.

“C’mon,” Carmen shook his head lightly, pushing your hand away lightly. “You got a number you wanna put in?” He nodded towards the screen.

You pouted, pausing for a moment. “Yes.” You mutter, typing in your number quickly, pivoting your body in front of the card machine.

“You gonna move?” Carmen looked at you, already reaching around to put his card in.

“No, I told you it was my treat.” You mutter, twisting with your phone in your hand. One look at the screen, and you were tapping your phone against the screen. The ding chimed, your smug smile spreading across your lips when the receipt printed.

Carmen was stunned, card still in his hand. “What- How did you-”

“Gotta be quicker than that, Berzatto.” You grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Carmen looked down at his card in his hand, shoving it back into his wallet. Maybe Sugar was right, maybe he did need to actually learn how to use his phone. He grabbed the bags from you, swatting your hand away while you pushed the basket back.

“Shoulda let me pay.” Carmen grumbled, walking beside you out the sliding doors. It had started to get chilly, leaves tinging with warm color and the temperature beginning to drop. “Stuff’s for me anyways.”

“Yeah, but I wanted you to get it.” You bump your hip playfully with his. “Besides, I told you it was my treat.”

Carmen didn’t respond, unlocking the trunk and putting the bags in carefully, but the frown didn’t fade. Brows still furrowed and lips still in a hard line.

“Hey,” You call, stopping him before he could close the trunk. “I told you I wanted to buy it for you.”

“Yeah,” Carmen’s brows furrowed. “But you shouldn’t’ve-”

“-Carm.” You groan lightly. “I wanted to pay, ok? You always get me stuff. Let me get this for you, ok?” You say lightly, arms snaking around his shoulders, looping behind his neck. “Let me spoil you, bear. Lemme be your sugar mama.”

Carmen snorts, lips curling in a grin lightly. “Shut up.” He mutters, your lips closing over his in a sweet kiss.

You pulled apart, blushed and swooned in a Target parking lot. “You gotta put the stuff up anyways.” You tease, hands sliding down his toned arms, over his color block jacket.

“Yeah?” Carmen snorts lightly, pulling the trunk shut. “You’re not gonna help me?”

“I’ll be directing.” You declare, pinching his butt lightly, grinning at how he jumped and flushed. Sliding into the passenger side, you lean across the console to Carmen. “I’ll make sure the ambiance is there.”

Carmen nodded, starting the car, eyes bright when they met yours. “Light the candle?”

“Yes.” You laugh. “And I’ll pick out a movie.”

Carmen snorted lightly, his free hand moving behind your head rest while he backed out. It made your tummy flip with excitement. “Yeah? Casper?”

You give him a feigned unimpressed look. “You know I’m more of a Hocus Pocus girl.”

“Right, my bad.” Carmen laughed, hand gripping your thigh lightly, thumb rubbing patterns over the material of your leggings. Your heart skipped. “Fine. As long as you open those Reese’s.”

“Deal.” You grin, kissing his forearm gently.

Hours later, wrappers piled on the coffee table, the candle burning in the kitchen, and the orange lights glowing from where Carmen string them over the TV stand in the living room. One Jack-O-Lantern fleece blanket thrown over both of your legs, your head on Carmen’s while the beginning credits of Beetlejuice played on the TV. Carmen decided right there that you were right. This was more homey. Felt… right and content. He wasn’t so sure it was the decorations, more likely it was the girl who picked them out.

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stiltonbasket · 5 months

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what happened when wwx went to gusu summer school in the wrh raises wwx au?

"Thank the heavens," Lan Xichen laughs, when Lan Wangji presents himself at the Hanshi after returning from his latest monthlong night-hunting tour in Huai'an. "Shufu has been at his wits' end in your absence, didi."

Lan Wangji lifts an eyebrow and begins to unpack the basket of tribute gifts he received from the Huai'an magistrate. "Why? My duties were to be delegated to Changyi-tangxiong while I was away; and whatever Shufu might find wanting in his temperament, I have never known him to be anything but diligent."

"No one has dared replace you as head of discipline," his brother says wryly. "And according to Shufu, this batch of guest disciples has worse manners than most."

"Shufu rarely has trouble with the guest disciples," Lan Wangji points out, frowning. The lone exception to this rule was Nie Huaisang; but no one in the Cloud Recesses has ever bothered disciplining Nie Huaisang, even before his older brother was betrothed to Xiongzhang. "Who does he wish me to discipline this time?"

Inexplicably, Lan Xichen only grins at him and scoops a handful of icy-red lychees out of the tribute basket.

"Go to tomorrow's lecture in the Lanshi," he teases, "and perhaps you shall see."

Lan Wangji could not see the sense in this. If one of the guest scholars was being impudent in the Lanshi, Shufu ought to have sent them to the Pavilion of Discipline to receive punishment instead of waiting for him to settle matters; for as Head of Discipline, Lan Wangji's main duties consisted of revising the codex of appropriate punishments and patrolling the Cloud Recesses after hai shi on alternate fortnights.

But the next day, he made his way to the Lanshi as bidden—and the moment he crossed the threshold, he understood exactly who had been making trouble for his uncle, and why he had been left for Wangji to handle.

As ever, all four of the other Great Clans were represented among the guest disciples: Yunmeng Jiang disciples in violet and jade-green, the Jin in cream and gold, Nie Huaisang and his shixiongdi in their familiar black and silver-gray—and by the window, the fiery scarlet and gold of Wen Ruohan's delegation, dressed in silks so fine that they would not have looked out of place upon an imperial concubine.

Lan Wangji narrows his eyes at them. Each one is haughtier than the next, though not quite brazen enough for Shufu to blink at; but then his gaze moves to the disciple sitting at the front, and freezes as the boy rolls his shoulders and turns around to greet Wangji with an insolent, lazy smile.

This is the one, he realizes, as the disciple flutters painted—painted?—lashes at him before turning back to look at Shufu. He is the one Uncle wants me to discipline.

"Wangji," Shufu says, with such open relief that Lan Wangji looks away from the Wen disciple in surprise. "At last. Have you come to attend lessons with the guest disciples?"

Wangji puts his hands together and bows. "Yes, Uncle."

"Excellent. But before you sit down, go take Wei Wuxian to the dormitories, and see that he washes his face and removes those ornaments from his hair."

Lan Wangji nods and takes three great strides towards the Wen disciple. "You heard your laoshi," he says. "Come."

The disciple—Wei Wuxian—gives no reply; but luckily, he rises from his chair and follows Lan Wangji out of the Lanshi without protest. As soon as the doors to the lecture hall fall closed behind them, Lan Wangji opens his mouth to deliver a short lecture on the virtues of modesty and simplicity in dress—only to snap it closed again in shock, for he has never seen a man who painted his face like this outside the theater troupes Xichen used to visit with him when they were children.

Wei Wuxian's lips are a wet, shining crimson, as if he had dipped them in blood before arriving at the Lanshi; and his eyes are lined with fine black paint and red rouge mixed with some kind of bright, sparkling dust. Worse yet, he had even painted his eyelashes, to make them seem twice as long and dark as any man's lashes ought to be—and as if all of that were not enough, the heavy locks of his hair are fastened with chains made of solid gold.

"Why are you looking at me, Lan-er-gongzi?" Wei Wuxian asks. He puts his head to one side, and despite himself, Lan Wangji hears music; for someone had woven small golden bells into Wei Wuxian's braided hair.

"Enough talk," Lan Wangji says flatly. "Follow me back to the dormitories so you can wash and brush out your hair."

To his astonishment, Wei Wuxian does not object. He keeps pace with Lan Wangji all the way to the compound reserved for the Wen disciples; and then, without another word, he vanishes into his lodgings and leaves Lan Wangji behind to wait for him on the porch.

Puzzled, Lan Wangji seats himself on a convenient stool and wonders why Wei Wuxian had obeyed him so easily. It was only too clear that Shufu first tried to teach him the virtues of simple adornments at least a month ago, if not longer; so why had he flouted Uncle's wishes and honored Lan Wangji's?

Perhaps he is being too obedient, says a small voice in the back of Lan Wangji's mind. Perhaps he has run out through the back of the house, and gone off to frolic in Caiyi.

Lan Wangji frowns more deeply than ever and raps on the door with his knuckles. "Wei-gongzi? Are you finished?"

"Nearly," Wei Wuxian calls. "You can come in, if you'd like."

Wangji highly doubts that Wei Wuxian is really making himself presentable (or at least, not as he ought to be doing) so he enters the house and finds his charge wiping his face with a damp towel.

He lowers the towel at the sound of Lan Wangji's footsteps, and then:

"You were not meant to paint yourself in a different fashion," he says, incensed. "Wash your face properly at once."

Wei Wuxian blinks at him in confusion.

"I have washed it off," he says. "Look."

And then he leans forward and grabs Lan Wangji's hand, drawing it up to the damp skin of his face before Lan Wangji can turn tail and flee. He drags Lan Wangji's fingertips over the smooth bones of his cheeks and forehead, and across the bronzen skin circling his eyes—tanned and not painted, Lan Wangji realizes—and presses his full lips to the heart of Lan Wangji's palm, so forcefully that any traces of rouge left upon them would have been imprinted on Wangji's skin.

"There!" Wei Wuxian says, beaming—and completely unaware that Lan Wangji is very near to bursting out of sheer fury. "I'm as clean as a new jian."

"Your hair," Lan Wangji croaks; for if he dared raise his voice any further, he would scream, and then he would be the one submitting himself for punishment at the discipline pavilion. "Comb it."

Wei Wuxian nods and unravels his braids. Rather than undoing them one by one, he merely snaps his fingers and lets out a burst of spiritual energy; and immediately, the gold fastenings fall loose and clatter onto his dressing-table, leaving the glittering mass of his hair to slide down his broad back like a waterfall coursing down the face of a mountain.

Suddenly, Lan Wangji finds himself unable to breathe.

He flings himself out of the guest house and up the hill towards the Jingshi, where he spends an hour meditating in complete silence before he can bring himself to set foot out of doors again.

"Brother," he says, when he finally works up the courage to return to the Hanshi two days later. "I fear that I may be unable to take over the duty of disciplining Wei Wuxian. He made me angrier than I have ever been in my life."

Lan Xichen—who had heretofore shown no signs of being anything other than a kind, understanding brother—only stares at him, and bursts into laughter.

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #my fic #wrh raises wwx au #reblog this please i beg it took so long haha #lan wangji #wei wuxian #lan xichen

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derinthescarletpescatarian · 4 months

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For the past couple of Christmases I've just been giving my family garden produce, and it goes down really well. I live alone so I get way more apples, nasturtiums, various herbs, etc., than I can use; I just make capers and apple chips and dried herbs and stuff and put it in recycled jars and handwrite cute little labels for them, then make five identical gift baskets and hand them to everyone. (There are no little kids in our family any more so I don't need to worry about disappointing them with something boring.) I was nervous doing this because I figured people would be polite but not too jazzed about getting identical gifts instead of carefully personalised selections of Yet Another Random House Ornament or something, but it turns out that no, they all love my homegrown snacks. Costs me like 5 bucks per gift for the box and cute ribbons and tags, plus a bit of time cooking and drying things. If you have an orchard or herb garden you should try it out.

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wildbeautifuldamned · 1 month

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Radko Schaller Saxophone Easter Bunny Rabbit Band Paper Mache Candy Container ebay VintageGifting.com eBay Store

Vintage 10.5 Paper Mache Pulp Easter Bunny Rabbit Basket Candy Container 1959 ebay shawks21k57v

#ornament #easter #papermache #rabbit #bunny #basket #anthromorphic #antropomorphic #musician #musical instruments #horn #band

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l0vergirlv0mit · 6 months

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Christmas with gf!Hazel Headcanons

No one yearns like I do I swear

⭑favorite Christmas movie is obviously Jim Carrey’s The Grinch.

⭑Christmas music has been on since November 1st.

⭑singing “Last Christmas” in the car as if you both had just gone through the most devastating life event anyone could ever go through(a tummy ache).

⭑hugs you from behind and hummus softly to Christmas music in your ear. While your making her homemade hot chocolate that she absolutely NEEDED you to make her that moment.

⭑buys you little ornaments of different random objects like a golf ball cause she thinks they’re funny.

⭑absolutely has to mix the sugar cookies for you cause she wants to seem strong.

⭑makes you a burr basket that’s basically your whole Christmas list cause she’s got MONEY money.

⭑takes gingerbread house construction VERY VERY serious like she’s making melted sugar window panes.

⭑zips you into her jacket so she can use your body heat to warm her up when it’s cold outside.

⭑buys the thickest cutest Christmas blanket specifically to snuggle and have a Christmas movie marathon.

⭑love’s Christmas decoration shopping. Takes you to Christmas markets and loses her shit over everything. She really likes the vintage colorful Christmas theme.

⭑when you go to said Christmas market if there’s a Santa she’s taking a photo with him wearing the brightest smile.

⭑her favorite thing to do right now is to say “Hey, he’s watching.” Very seriously over everything. Don’t wanna take a nap together? Yeah he saw that.

⭑hates boring Christmas themes like White Christmas makes her annoyed cause there’s no color.

⭑getting absolutely blasted together at Christmas parties on mulled wine. Somehow making grinding on each other to “All I Want For Christmas Is You” seem completely called for.

⭑your family loves her cause she came over by herself to help them decorate. Had a photo shoot with your grandma in matching Christmas sweater.

⭑made a dance routine to “Santa Baby” and passionately performs it for you. Like wiggling her eyebrows at you and shimmying.

⭑her cheeks and nose get so red and rosy in cold weather you can’t help but kiss them all over.

⭑she loves homemade gifts with a lot of sentimental value. Once you made her a scrapbook of picture of both you, you put little stickers and wrote her little notes as well. She couldn’t stop crying for like 30 minutes.

⭑she’d definitely get you tickets to see your favorite band or singer cause she literally already bought everything you wanted BEFORE Christmas even happened.

⭑insist on leaving cookies out for Santa even though you literally don’t have children. And yes there will be a cookie with a bite taken out of it when you wake up.

⭑matching pjs are a must.

⭑Christmas eve is like a Hallmark movie. Cuddling the whole night watching movies and giggling.

(I need a soft masc so bad.)

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x you

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ladystarksneedle · 5 months

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The eye of awe

Aemond x maid reader

Summary: A maid at the Keep relishes in the sweetness of gratitude.

Word count: 1.2k

Dividers by @saradika

Next>

She hears the familiar clang of steel as she passes through the courtyard, wicker basket in hand daring to glance at the flash of silver dancing in the sun. He moves with the fluidity of men from myth, of childhood tales told by mothers of the Realm willing their meddlesome children to bed. Stories of agile and fearsome warriors fighting to save kingdoms of might and maidens of beauty, slender and graceful with their arms and legs, dancing to tunes of mystery. She finds him to have both, equal parts grace and ferocity as he dodges another blow before his blade lands against his opponent's throat. As the crowd erupts in applause she ducks under the archway leading indoors. Just like her childhood, her escape for the day is at its end and her eyes wide open to the life ahead.

Work at the Red Keep is equal parts arduous as it is rewarding. Despite her young age, she's been promoted from a scullery maid to working in service to the one eyed prince himself. She assists him daily, organizing his clothes, tidying his chambers, ordering his baths, serving his meals and above all making sure the order he has in place is never disrupted.

“Chaos is only tackled well on the battlefield” he'd said to her when she was brought to him “I do not expect an ounce near me. Should I find you lacking, you'll be sent away before you can make your apologies.”

His return to his chambers is angrier than usual. His bath lies ready at his disposal, his clothes laid out meticulously on the bed. A linen tunic, leather surcoat and coat, linen breeches, trousers of wool and two leather belts lined with gold are arranged in that order, all in shades of ivory, black and brown, adorned with the familiar three headed dragon glinting in gold ready to greet him once he finishes. The only piece of cloth that remains askew is his eyepatch discarded on the dresser in haste, as she stands waiting outside, unwilling to initiate change.

It is the only one he wears rather religiously despite its condition. It is whispered by the maids in passing, that it was Princess Helaena who made it for him, ever since he lost his eye at ten, the dreaded incident never spoken of lest one incur his wrath. It is said that the wound itself was inflicted by a lad of eight, his own nephew, for a purpose widely disputed by all she's heard from. She finds the whole thing rather nasty, a cruel punishment or perhaps an unfair trial from the Gods. The others think it rather fitting for a man so cruel to be felled in such a way, yet she finds it akin to being cursed, for him to be so beautiful yet troubled. Despite his harshness and cold gaze, he's been nothing but courteous to her which is the most she can expect from any master she serves and is far better than one with grabby hands and wayward eyes. He's expectant and demanding, yet acknowledges a task well done. Perhaps it is his look of quiet praise on a hard day that carries her to the markets at noon, skipping her meal with ease. The leather she requires has been borrowed from scraps cleaned at the dressmaker’s, earning her a bewildered gaze and an equally prompt dismissal. The clasp she looks for however, costs a silver dragon. It is a lot, nearly half of her earnings yet she parts with them willingly. The gold ornament burns her palms as she heads back in time to resume her duties, a thrilled smile on her face.

She's been taught how to sew since she was a child, enough to be able to fix a hole, a gape or tear in both tunic and chemise alike.

She has fixed her father's breeches after a hard day's work and her brothers’ after they'd torn theirs running through the crowded streets of King's landing. Even stitching a wound comes easy to her now, having learned how to do so, after a shoddy job a few moons back, when coin had run dry to turn to the local healer. She smiles to herself as she pulls the threads through the leather at hand. It is brown enough to hide the gaps in her work and though it isn't as fine as the embroidery of a lady she's satisfied with it nonetheless. She stares at her little contraption in awe as she finishes in time. It has a single strap running across its breath held together by a gold button she'd found lying on the floor. On its side she's opted for a sturdier one with the golden clasp holding it all together behind, a single flame for the prince she serves, the closest she'll ever come to the might of the dragon.

There's a feast to be held tonight, in honor of his nameday. Guests from all over the Realm have arrived and as the Keep buzzes with excitement of the festivities at dusk and she finds it hard to contain her own delight. There is much work to be done before she can part with her surprise. She tends to him soon, dressing him for dinner in leathers of green and black, clasping the familiar worn out strap as he leaves grumbling. It is hours later when she sees him again as she's summoned by the familiar ring of the bell in her quarters. She creeps to his room in trepidation, hands clasped behind her back as she greets and readies him for bed, her gift heavy in her pocket. As he turns to dismiss her she looks at him shyly

“If you don't mind me saying, I'd like to wish you a happy nameday my prince”

He nods in response, humming as he makes his way to the fireplace, seating himself as he stares ahead.

“I have something for you” she continues moving towards him as he looks up “It isn't much but a mere token of my gratitude” she says extending her hand. “Thank you, for everything” she continues, stopping as she looks at him. He takes the leather in his hand, turning it over in silence.

When she was a child her mother had taken her to see her aunt. It was the first trip she'd taken outside the capital to visit a dying woman and provide her comfort. As they'd returned she'd shown her the sky, full of stars at night, bright and beautiful away from the haze of the city.

“Your aunt's up there now girl, watching over you just as I'll be someday” she'd said pointing to the drops of light adorning the skies.

His eye runs over the gold in hand, flame fitting into his palm like it belongs, shining like the stars of a forgotten past.

“Come, help me wear it” he remarks as he leans back.

As she clasps it in place and curtsies, she’s lost to dreams of silver chased with a flame of gold.

Clashes of steel greet her the next morn, a flame of gold glinting in the sun. Her dreams don't end with the battle at hand anymore, for the mighty warrior now carries a part of the maiden with him and she's content to hold his gaze just a little longer.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond @watercolorskyy

#house of the dragon #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x maid reader #aemond fics #aemond imagine #zae's fics #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader

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drawloverlala · 1 year

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Some Clip Studio Assets

Hello! I just published a brush for Clip Studio Paint, it’s a cyber effect brush!

https://assets.clip-studio.com/es-es/detail?id=1993559

And along with sharing it with you I also wanted to share some of the assets I've found on the assets store that I think you may like as well! ^_^

here I put them down the read more! (warning it may be a bit too long of a post!)

✒Inking and drawing brushes:

Smooth Ink

Smooth Inker

Voyageffen

Line brush

Ink pen textured

crack lines on surfaces

S Zara Pen

Nong Pen

Line Drawing pen

Rough pen

✏Writing Brushes:

Calligraphy pen set

Halloween themed pen

Neon Pen

Retro brush

🎨 Painting brushes:

Soft fluffy paint (One of my favorites!)

Thick brush set

🖼 Gradient maps:

petitchery set

Holo gradient set

Ommug gradiation map

Toffi's Gradient set

🎇Patterns:

Tone Brush set

Tone Brush set 2

Pretty stone floor pattern

Stone floor pattern

cute Halloween Pattern

Hexagonal pattern

Cute textures (they are patterns)

Sweater pattern brushes

Gun Club Check (plaid pattern)

Lemons pattern

patchwork patterns brush

Argyle pattern brush

Cat face pattern

Cloud and flower pattern

cute brushes and patterns (cactus, peach and clam)

cute simple patterns (warning: they have pretty bright colors, may cause eye strain)

80's patterns

strawberry pattern and brushes

flowery patterns

10 cute plaid patterns

Avocado pattern.

📜Textures:

Textured brush

Glitter star textures

Gold glitter set

Random Textures 1

Random Textures 2

Random Textures 3

Random Textures 4

3 Textures set

Atmosphere set brushes (rusty textures)

📚Background objects:

Wire fence

Books brush 1

Book brush 2

Book brush 3 (fancy)

Bottle brush

Piano brush

Magic Drug shelf set (has baskets, jars and bottles)

City

Window brush

🧁Food:

Cookie brushes

whipped cream brush

Sausages

Many sausages

Bread brush

strawberries and cream

berries brush

strawberries

fruit toppings

Avocado!

🌱🌼Flowers and plants:

Roses1

Roses 2

Tree leaves brush 1 (pretty good)

Peonies

Bougainvillea

Geranium

Easy bush set (this one is pretty good too!)

Palm tree leaves

Mimosa

Flower brush (for cute effects)

✨Effects:

Gaussian blur brush

White drops brush

Glitch effects

Prism brushes

Dual prism brushes

Shiny flowers and sparkles

Retro Filters

Tech brushes

Mini deco effects 1

Mini deco effects 2

👑Ornaments:

Ornament Brushes

Ornament Brushes 2

Oriental Emblem 1-10

Oriental Emblem 21-30

Oriental Emblem 31-40

43 types of decorations

27 Oriental patterns

Ornament material

X-mas brush set

Exotic fantasy decor.

👕Clothing:

Shoe laces set

Shoe laces 2

Sweater knit patterns

10 types of brushes of bows with frills

Patchwork stitches brush

socks/panty/stocking(?) brush

Tattered brush

💕Misc:

Feathers

wind effects

Hot mess confetti

Cute Confetti

Confetti

Halloween particles brush

Fishes

Twinkle brush

Cute pattern 10 pieces set 1

Cute pattern 10 pieces set 2

Cute pattern 10 pieces set 3

Cute pattern 10 pieces set 4

Cute pattern 10 pieces set 5

Star brushes

Halloween washi tape

Puppy stickers!!!

And those are most of the assets I've collected so far from Clip Studio's assets store!

I hope these may result useful to you!

#my ramblings #clip studio assets #resources #brushes #textures #patterns #clip studio paint

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biblio-smia · 5 months

Note

i love ur writing 🥹 i was wondering if you could write about spending christmas with mike and abby? i think that’d be really cute 🫶

hii thank you so much!! in anticipation of the holiday season here you go <3 please ignore any typos

the air is cold despite the bundles of blankets on you, biting at the tip of your nose and leaving frosty kisses on your cheeks. it's merciless as it pulls you from your peaceful sleep, making you pull up the covers with a groan. your body contracts, folding into itself in an attempt to bask in the warm air you've trapped underneath your blankets.

your alarm goes off and you groan.

your head peeks out to glance at the time. 7 a.m. too early. icy air enters your nose through a deep breath as your brain attempts to catch up and remind you of today's schedule.

you're about to nestle inside your blankets and go back to sleep when your eyes find your clock again.

december 24th.

how could you forget?

there's a few final things to pick up before heading over to mike's: stocking stuffers, some more wrapping paper, pre-made cookie dough (the three of you have decided to make dessert from scratch tonight, but you're sure mike will find a way to mess it up).

another gift for abby catches your eye in glimpses between people, mike's complaining that you always spoil abby ringing in your head (so you buy him another gift, too). you should've gotten a cart or at least picked up a basket but it's too late now that your hands are full. you keep your items close to your chest, fingers going a little numb from the thawing cookie dough, pushing through the overcrowded aisles. it's a relief once you finally check out, exchanging your money for easier-to-carry bags full of your items.

the air is vicious when you step outside, refusing to mellow out. it forces you to hurry to your car, getting inside and turning on the heat hastily. after you rub a little bit of feeling back into your hands, you waste no time in driving over to mike's. 7:58 a.m. perfectly on schedule.

you should've called to announce your arrival before even stepping out of your car. you've knocked and can't expect mike to have been waiting at the door for you, but every second feels like torture when the wind is roughing you up.

your face splits into a grin when the door opens, mike tugging you inside, chilled through his red sweater from just the gust of wind that blew in with the quick opening of his door. he greets you with a warm hug, helps you hang the thick coat that is no longer appropriate for his warm home.

the schmidt house is somehow cozier than it usually feels, adorned with lights and greenery (that you'd helped put up). a christmas tree sits in the corner of the living room, decades old and the perfect size for the space, glittery ornaments reflecting the yellow lights of the small bulbs hidden between the branches of the plastic green tree. there are other ornaments, too - special ones, like old family photos mike still liked to put up, and ones abby had crafted herself. there were even some little snowmen mike had made when he was a kid, out of popsicle sticks and paint. you were proud to say there was an ornament you had gifted mike and abby on the tree, a little reindeer frame with a photo of the siblings inside.

"have you eaten yet? i'm almost done with breakfast." mike offers, resuming his role in the kitchen and attending to the eggs and strips of bacon on the stove.

you shake your head. "i haven't," you admit and mike nods, pulling out three plates from the cabinet.

"you're not allowed to look at these," you motion to the shopping bag you hold, a little lighter now that you've set the cookie dough on the counter. you're on your way to mike's room to set the gifts down before abby spots them when mike scoffs, looking pointedly at the cookie dough.

"you don't believe in me?" he asks playfully, picking up the container to store in the fridge.

"of course not!" you call from the hallway.

you take the small slot of solitude to quickly wrap the gifts you'd bought, knowing you won't have another chance with the busy schedule the three of you had planned. as you'd suspected, mike had been on his last scraps of wrapping paper, forcing you to wrap each gift in a different design. you uncapped a sharpie, wrote abby on one and mike on the other, cleaned up your area, and set the bag aside once again. your timing is perfect - you slip out of mike's room to see mike padding down the hall. you hear the creak of the carpeted wood as he comes up behind you, hand slipping easily on your shoulder as you quietly open abby's door. the two of you slip in to the dimly lit room, overcast sky letting grey shine through.

abby is curled up into herself, arms squeezing the life out of one of many stuffed animals, tightly wrapped blankets suffocating the teddy bear in her arms even more.

you're hesitant to wake her, but you know how upset she'll be if you don't. mike sits carefully and places a hand on the lump of abby that vaguely resembles a part of her arm, attempting to wake her through gentle shaking.

abby stirs but groans, disappearing further under the covers, conserving the warmth she has there.

"abby," mike sings. "it's christmas eve."

you can almost see abby's eyes widen before she even appears, thick blankets and bear thrown aside as abby shoots up. her head moves excitedly as she just now registers your presence in the room, throwing herself into mike's lap and wrapping her arms around him, giggling ecstatically. it's not long before she's moved onto you, gripping onto you tightly like she always does when she doesn't want you to leave.

but you're planning on spending at least a few more hours with the schmidts.

"c'mon, breakfast is ready," you say sweetly, tugging abby towards the bathroom gently.

"i can smell the bacon!" abby exclaims, smiling over at mike. he follows the two of you out, a discreet arm on your back pulling you towards the kitchen to allow abby a chance to wash up.

you expect mike to pull away from you once you arrive, to begin serving the still-hot breakfast he has prepared - but he doesn't. the arm on your back slides, but doesn't leave, as mike wraps his other arm around you, hands joining at your front. he rests his head against you, hold a little lazy but warm nonetheless. your hands wiggle between his, fingers clasping his. mike makes no move to leave and you laugh, elbowing him lightly.

"get off."

this just makes mike hold you tighter.

"mike!"

mike groans against you but doesn't move, forcing you to wiggle your hands out of his grasp and learn how to walk with a new weight attached to you. you eventually make it to the stove, mike giving you the courtesy of freeing your arms and allowing you to begin plating breakfast.

mike doesn't let go until all three plates are full of warm food, straining a little to press a kiss on your face before grabbing two of the plates and moving them to the little dining table. you're just setting down the last one when abby reappears, eyes bright and body cozy in a very festive sweater.

"where's yours?" abby demands, looking pointedly at mike. his mouth forms a little o, getting up from his spot at the table to start heading to his room.

"don't worry," abby continues, uncrossing her arms and looking up sweetly at you as she slides into her seat for breakfast, smile wide as she picks up her fork. "we got you one, too."

with plates cleared and bellies full (and adorned with matching sweaters), abby seizes the opportunity to lay out the schedule for the day.

"okay," she begins, pushing her essentially clean (save for a few crumbs) plate away, folding her hands neatly in front of her. "christmas movies," abby says, looking between you and mike for confirmation. "christmas cookies." you nod when abby's eyes land on you, leaning forward in anticipation. "and... we can go look at the lights?" abby looks at mike hopefully, and who is he to say deny her request?

"there's a neighborhood, like, 40 minutes away that goes absolutely crazy with christmas decorations. abby's been wanting to see it forever." mike informs you before giving abby a smile. "we can go look at the lights."

abby cheers and you laugh, moving to pick up the plates from the table. "so, abs, what movie do you wanna watch first?"

"we can take turns picking!" abby calls as she speeds to the couch, making space for both you and mike as she tugs on the blanket hanging on the back of the couch.

"well, i think the youngest should go first," you call back as you dump the plates and cutlery into the sink, mike bringing over the cups you'd all used. mike doesn't even give you the chance to turn on the faucet before you're pushed out of the way. of course, you shove mike's shoulder (though can you really even call it a shove?).

abby pats the seat next to her excitedly and you grab the small case of dvds, finding the festive ones and discussing the various options with abby. she finally chooses the grinch (the animated one, because the real one still freaked her out). mike is just coming over when she's made her decision, taking the dvds from you and sliding the grinch into the dvd player.

mike settles next to you as the animation begins to play, arm landing around your shoulders as you relax between him and abby. the grinch ends quickly, but you all make it through an entire round of turns and almost 3 hours of animated films before mike is gently pulling away from you and standing, eyeing the clock and muttering something about dinner. it's early, but mike is back soon enough after putting something in the oven.

he's been really trying to make this year the best christmas for abby: decorating much more than he normally would, trying to budget for presents he'd normally never look twice at. making you an essential piece of their christmas.

abby adores you, obviously. almost as much (if not as much) as mike does. while mike and abby have bonded more on their own, mike credits you for making the house feel warmer. for making it feel like he has a family again.

he's really trying to not let that thought terrify him.

but he knows abby feels it, too. the more frequently you come over and the longer you stay, the more it feels like you're supposed to be living with them, an integral piece of the schmidt house that just fits.

mike knows he'd like you around for as long as you'd let him. but for now, it's christmas, and mike wants to remember every moment.

there's a small camera in one of the drawers of a cabinet, one that mike made sure to charge before today. he pulls it out now, snaps a quick photo of you and abby cuddled up on the couch, very invested in home alone on the screen. mike smiles at the result that flashes on the small camera screen, setting it down on the table that sits in front of the couch before settling into his designated spot once more.

you glance curiously from mike to the camera, reaching for it carefully to not disturb abby too much. you let go of her gently, power on the camera and point the lens towards mike. you manage to take a photo of him caught off-guard, and another as he realizes what you're doing and smiles. you make a mental note to back up the sd card before leaving as you shut the camera off again, letting it sit on the coffee table for later.

you're about halfway through home alone 2 (it's no longer abby's turn, but you're all picking movies she wants to watch, anyways), when mike shifts out from under you again, whispering that he's gonna start making dinner.

"hey, abs, think you can finish this one by yourself?" you ask quietly, motioning to the movie.

"hmm," abby hums. "only if you guys make mac n' cheese."

you laugh, press a kiss to her forehead. "deal."

mike has already started pulling out pots and pans, various ingredients from the fridge and pantry littering the counter tops. mike stands, hands on his hips and head tilted in confusion as he looked down at a small notebook.

you come over and place a hand on mike's shoulder with hopes to soothe. you peer over to see what is testing mike and find a recipe for breaded chicken.

"what are we making?" you ask.

"i have no clue," mike admits with a sigh, flipping through the book.

"abby requested mac n' cheese," you offer.

"well that i can make." mike shuts the book and you smile, moving to reach for the ingredients you know you'll need. "i've got it," mike insists, though you've learned that that means he doesn't want to bother you.

"i know you do," you say, kissing his cheek. you reach for a medium-sized pot and mike bites his lip. his chest is warm as he steps out of your way, passing you ingredients and giving you directions as you start on dish one, together.

abby groans as she lets her fork clatter to her plate. "i'm so full, but it's so good!"

you laugh, pulling abby's plate away from her and scraping the last little bites of her second helping onto your own plate. "don't worry, we have a ton of leftovers."

"start getting ready, abby," mike says, finishing his own plate and smiling as abby cheers. "make sure to bundle up! it's cold," mike calls after abby, who's already racing down the hallway.

mike shakes his head and you're grinning. the two of you shove the last few forkfuls of food in your mouths, anxious to start heading out before it starts getting too crowded. the sun has almost completely set, the winter days making the days feel shorter. today, though, has called for a packed schedule.

you insist on cleaning up this time, pushing mike towards his room to go get ready. abby and mike reappear as you're pulling on the coat you shed that morning. mike buttons up abby's thick coat, wrapping a thick scarf around her.

of course, mike has one for you, too.

it's a warm, knit black one that you've seen mike wearing on multiple occasions. he wraps it around you twice, tying it off and making sure it's not too tight. you fix the collar of mike's coat, smoothing it flat with your hands. mike's hands linger on your scarf while his eyes have caught yours.

they're still so mesmerizing, a warm shade of brown that reflects the little lights hung up around the house. he's smiling, shyly under your gaze, but it spreads through his face and creates a glint in his eyes.

abby pulls on the crook of your arm, pulling your hand off of mike's chest. "let's gooo!"

"okay, okay," mike laughs, taking his hands off you and reaching for his keys. abby's hand is in yours as you step outside into the freezing afternoon, hurrying to the car with mike right on your trail. the heat blasts before the last door even shuts, all three of you shivering despite your layers.

mike turns up the radio to the inevitable christmas music playing, though it only fuels your festive spirits. the drive is anything but quiet, between the songs on the radio and abby telling you all about the great christmas party her class had just before break, there's enough chatter and laughter to last longer than the forty minute ride.

the roads are pitch black, thick clouds covering the shine of the moon as mike makes the final turn. the world is suddenly light up, huge blowups of famous christmas characters decorating almost every lawn, houses adorned with enough lights that you're sure would triple your electricity bill. there are huge candy canes, little christmas gnomes, even fake snow - no, real snow.

"oh, my god!" you laugh, pointing at the little white dots on mike's windshield.

"it's snowing!" abby cries, begging mike to get out and enjoy it. he yields and finds a place to park near the front of the huge neighborhood. the three of you are out, joining the small crowds of people who have made it out of their cozy houses on christmas eve to come see the lights.

abby is off, though mike warns her not to go too far, the wet snow not enough to keep her from admiring the glowing displays of rudolph and frosty.

you and mike hang back, watching her from the sidewalks, arms linked. snow collects quickly on your coats due to your leisurely paces, but it's too cold to retract your hands from your pockets to wipe it off.

"look!" abby calls from the next lawn over. "hot chocolate!"

sure enough, one kind neighbor is standing with a table full of hot drinks. three of them are picked up and you know the warmth of the drink and its sugar content is going to keep abby going for a while.

you and mike comment on each house, pointing out all the small details, how one house has been made to look one made out of gingerbread, complete with fake gumdrops. you've even began to give each house a rating out of five, as if you were judges on one of those light fight shows that always came on in the evenings.

"what about this one?" you stand in front of a home that looks like a christmas disco, bright flashing lights and colorful, mismatched decorations taking over the small plot of land.

"hmmm," mike hums through a sip of his drink. "i think three stars. maybe two, it's kind of giving me a headache."

you laugh and mike pulls you along to the next house that abby waves you towards, where a real-life santa has stopped, taking a break before his next round of dropping off gifts.

mike pats his pockets, sighing. "i forgot-"

"this?" you pull out the small camera from your pocket and mike grins. the two of you take turns taking photos of abby and santa, all wide smiles as santa picks abby up.

"here, why don't you two get in there?" a voice behind you speaks, an older woman coming up, patting your arms and reaching for the camera.

"oh, thank you," mike accepts graciously, pointing out the right button to click as he hands it over. the two of you join abby, posing next to santa for a few photos, flash almost blinding you a few too many times.

"thank you so much," you say gratefully, taking back the camera as mike joins you and abby begins saying her goodbyes.

"of course, dear. you two have a beautiful daughter." the woman smiles so wide you can't bring yourself to correct her.

"oh, she's not-"

"thank you," you interrupt. "and merry christmas."

"merry christmas," the woman repeats, heading off to rejoin her own friends, who point and coo at abby even from where they stand.

mike is looking at you with a smile on his face, wondering if there's any way you could possibly share his sentiments around the energy you bring when the three of you are together. he doesn't have time to ask, though, as abby comes up to you.

"ready to go?" mike asks, recognizing the tired look on her face.

abby nods and begins walking in front of the two of your, navigating back to the car. you slide your hand, cold from its exposure to the air, into mike's, pulling him into your coat pocket. you give him a kiss, lips warm from the drink you'd finished and the two of you are on your way, following abby closely.

you'd been forced to stomp the wet mush off your shoes before stepping inside, leaving all three pairs of shoes over a towel to avoid getting the floor wet.

the three of you shed your layers, stripping until the three of you sit in the matching christmas sweaters you'd started in.

"more hot chocolate?" you ask from the kitchen, thinking it's the perfect time to start baking some cookies.

"yes, please!" abby chimes as she climbs back under the blankets on the couch.

the hot milk you pour for the drink warms your hands, but the way abby's face lights up as you set the mug in her hands warms your heart. you waited until the drink was cool enough to drink before bringing it over, knowing abby did not have a patient bone in her body. she goes in for a sip immediately, bobbing for some of the melting marshmallows that sit on top.

"thank you," abby grins, licking chocolate from her top lip.

"you're welcome," you laugh, letting her attention to fall back to the tv behind you as you make your way back to the kitchen where two more mugs sit on the counter, steam coming out in little white wisps.

you bring mike's mug over(the one abby got him, the one that says WORLD"S BEST BROTHER), but considering he has cookie dough up to his wrists, you bring the warm cup up to his lips instead. mike takes a careful sip, humming at the taste of the sweet chocolate.

"does this look right?" mike asks with a little desperation in his voice as you set his mug down a safe distance away.

you take a look inside the large bowl he's working with, tilting your head at the mixture that doesn't quite look like the cookie dough you buy from the store.

"i think you added too much milk?" you offer.

"i didn't add milk," mike sighs, trying to keep his sleeves up and out of... whatever what was in that bowl.

you keep yourself from laughing with a bite of your lip, rolling mike's sleeves up for him. "here." you reach for the flour, adding in more and letting mike mix it around until it finally begins to resemble something more akin to cookie dough. you dare to try it, making a face that mike can't discern the meaning of.

"is it good?" mike asks, opening his mouth for a spoonful of the dough from you you.

"well, it's not bad," you say, putting the small spoon in mike's mouth for him to try. mike makes a face similar to the one you're sure you made, staring down at the bowl.

"how about we just make these chocolate chip cookies instead?" you offer, already moving to get the pre-made sugar cookie dough out of the fridge.

"yeah, that'll be better." mike scrapes as much of the cookie dough as he can from his fingers, washing the rest off in the sink and grabbing chocolate chips to add in. you're pulling out sheet trays to place all the cookies out and abby is called over to help cut out shapes to decorate later.

the sugar has taken its affect. abby bounces around, barely unable to wait until the short 12 minutes on the timer go off, staring at the cooling cookies on the counter as if that'd make them cold enough to decorate, faster.

at least she's still up - you're really hoping to see her open a gift at midnight.

"can we decorate them now?" abby asks, gently pressing on one of the sugar cookies to check its temperature. "they're cool."

you press a finger on the surface of the cookie, right next to hers. she's right - they're perfectly room temperature. you nod and abby cheers, taking a bit of a chocolate chip cookie as she starts decorating a cookie in the shape of a christmas tree.

"she is going to crash so hard later," you laugh with mike as the two you of start on your own cookies.

and abby does, in fact, crash hard.

her sugar-fueled energy had finally run out, leaving her head in mike's lap and the rest of her body sprawled out on you. the laughter that echoed in the kitchen had died down, cookies eaten, frosting spread on noses wiped off and licked off lips. you laid against mike's chest, watching the holiday movie playing with half-lidded eyes.

"are you asleep?" mike whispers when he hears your breathing even out for the second time.

"i'm not," you insist, blinking yourself awake.

mike laughs quietly, clearly not believing you.

"hey," he nudges you. "it's past midnight. merry christmas." mike turns his head to kiss your cheek, lips warm against your skin.

"merry christmas," you whisper back, trying to gently recover your hand from under abby to hold mike's.

but abby twists and turns until her eyes slowly blink open and she yawns, curling up closer to you and mike from underneath the blanket.

"what time is it?" she asks sleepily, though she makes no move to get up to go to bed. that's okay - mike will gladly carry her.

"merry christmas, abs. it's past twelve."

mike wasn't expecting abby to shoot up, giddy smile overriding any tiredness she felt.

"it's christmas!" abby cries, checking the clock just to make sure.

"merry christmas," you laugh, arms gently around abby to make sure she doesn't hit the floor in her excitement.

"merry christmas!" abby replies, throwing her arms around your torso and pressing her head in your neck, squeezing hard.

"merry christmas, mike!" abby moves on to mike, wrapping her arms around her neck as she hugs him tight.

abby is out of your reach quickly, untangling herself from the blankets and racing towards the christmas tree. "everyone has to open one!" abby calls, waving the two of you over.

"okay, let's see," you say, taking the blanket off both you and mike as you go to join abby. there's not a lot of presents under the tree, but both you and mike have worked together over the months to make sure that'll change by morning.

"i say, always go for the biggest," mike says, reaching for the biggest wrapped gift with his name on it - which happened to be from abby. you and abby exchange a knowing look and the two of you giggle, knowing exactly what the present mike picked up is.

you remember when abby shyly approached you with an idea in her head and a drawing in her hand. it'd taken a lot of work to put together, but abby had been so proud of you, excitedly helping you wrap it and unable to wait for mike's reaction to the gift.

well, here it was.

mike glances between the two of you with a smile as he tears the gift paper, revealing a sweater, multi-colored and uniquely decorated by abby.

"woahh!" mike grins, examining the details on the sweater before pulling it on. "it's beautiful. it fits great. it's perfect, abby, thank you. i love it." mike pulls in abby for a hug and she giggles, admiring how the sweater looks on mike. it's... definitely unique, but you know mike will wear it out anyway. the whole thing makes you smile so hard you barely register abby and mike looking at you expectantly, gesturing for you to pick a gift yourself.

"you know, i think i'll pick a small one," you reach for a small bag with both abby's and mike's names on it. you sift through the tissue paper to find a small basket filled with your favorite treats and, most importantly, a small handmade bracelet. you pick it up with a smile, slipping it on and looking up to see abby pull out two matching ones - one for her, one for mike.

"now we all match," abby grins.

'i love it!" you laugh, pulling them both in for a hug, holding up your wrists to look at the three bracelets together.

"okay, last one for tonight," mike says, fighting back a yawn. he's the only one who hasn't fallen asleep (even if only a little bit) tonight and it makes you frown ever-so-slightly.

"mmmm, i choose... this one!" abby reaches for an oddly-shaped, medium-sized gift wrapped in dark red paper with her name and yours written on it. she tears through the paper and the tape holding it together easily, eyes bright once they register the stuffed animal she's been wanting forever in her hands. abby's in your lap again, the little beaver plush you'd gotten her squished in between the two of you as she hugs you tight, thanking you profusely. you laugh, rubbing her back and saying something about the beaver not being able to breathe properly from where it's at right now.

abby lets go, plushie held tight in her hands as she stands, big yawn sending her body into a full stretch.

"okay, i think that means it's time for bed," mike says, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. "we'll open more presents as soon as you wake up."

that makes abby grin and she's in bed in no time. you clean up the area under the tree a little, picking up all the trash and putting the gifts aside for safe-keeping.

you enter abby's room to kiss her goodnight, following mike out and quietly moving gifts from mike's closet to their rightful place under the tree. the two of you clean up the living room: folding the blankets, doing any leftover dishes, saving leftovers and wiping off the counters.

the exhaustion is beginning to kick in, evident in mike's tired eyes. but the night is coming to an end and sweet sleep awaits you.

"you're staying over tonight, right?" mike asks, voice quiet and a little shy.

"well, i already brought clothes, so, yes." you're grinning and mike's face splits into a smile. you're following him into his room and into his bed, the two of you knowing how to share the small space comfortably after a few times now.

you're grateful for the warmth mike provides, for the feeling of security his arms give you. it's really been the perfect christmas already and it's only technically only halfway over. the plan for tomorrow is more or less the same, watching movies together and doing any other typical christmas activities you can think of. you're not worried about inadequate sleep tonight - the chances of abby waking up before ten a.m. are more than unlikely.

late nights in, late mornings. spending time with your favorite people in the world. it's an unbeatable feeling, warming your heart and making a dopey smile appear on your face.

mike can tell you're not sleep yet, feels you shift a little beside him. you've turned to look at him better and he's trying to figure out why when you kiss him. it's dark, but you've essentially memorized is face in this exact lighting.

"goodnight kiss?" mike asks cheekily, pulling you closer.

"something like that," you grin. "today was a good day."

"a really good day. it's been so long since we've had that much fun on christmas," mike admits, a little quietly.

you're quiet, too. you run a hand through mike's hair slowly, fingers wrapping around his curls.

"i love you," mike whispers as though it's the first time he's saying it. and even though it's not, it still makes you smile like it is.

"i love you, too." you kiss him again but he doesn't let you go as quickly as before, hanging on to you and capturing you again a few more times first.

"okay," you laugh between kisses, giving mike one final one. "last one. that's your goodnight kiss."

mike groans, tucking his head in the crook of your neck, gently leaving kisses there. "fine," he mutters against the skin of your neck.

"go to sleep," you roll your eyes playfully, letting mike rest half on you, hands on his back and in his hair.

"i am," mike insists, kissing your jaw before settling down, arm thrown over your body.

you're not quite sure who falls asleep first, but it feels like no time at all before abby is in the room, calling the both of you awake to keep opening presents.

though, her expression is worth it all, mouth agape and eyes wide upon seeing all the gifts that have magically appeared under the tree.

you and mike exchange a knowing glance when abby's not looking, very proud of yourselves.

and as the three of you sit, watching abby unwrap her presents, mike can't help but be a little impatient for the last gift you will open, a small little box from him that's been carefully hidden behind all the other presents.

because, while the past day has only further proven it, mike has known for a while that there's not a day he wants to spend without you - a promise that he hopes you'll accept along with that small piece of jewelry.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #fnaf movie #fnaf #v + mike #v writes #no reason this took almost a month to write... insane

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