#12DaysOfChristmas

[onekeii]

Can you help me out?

Day 2: Trapped together in a snowstorm | "I thought you knew where you were going?!" Stray Kids: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Fem!Reader Warnings/Genre: friends to lovers, light angst, bad humour, smut, oral (m!receiving), uni au i guess? Summary: Minho's always there for you when you need a hand. Word Count: 2,628 AN: can’t believe i’ve never written lee know fanfic before lol. also i write in british english but i can’t stand the look of the word “mum” so that is intentionally american.

Read on AO3

“You want me to drive you four hours to your Mom’s house?” Minho groans, his voice muffled through the phone line. “Yep,” you say confidently. If you pretended nothing was wrong with the idea, maybe there wouldn’t be?

“In this weather?” He says. You force yourself to look up. Snow blanketed every available surface - the train station roof, the tops of cars, the bins. The pavement and road before you were clear but slick with muddy snow and grit salt. The cement absorbed each meagre snowflake that fell atop it. You shake a few from your eyelashes and hum, “Mhm.”

He can't mask his sigh, “On Christmas Eve?” 

“I was screwed over by the trains, how was I supposed to know they’d cancel them all just because of some snow? Minho, please! Can you help me out?” You were desperate now. You’d fall to your knees in front of him, in the snow, if he was there in person.

Shuffling around, keys jingling, the chk of a door handle, “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Thank you so much!” You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. It turned to steam and lifted itself into the air gracefully, more graceful than your little celebratory jig. Minho hangs up without a word, I should buy him some snacks, at least, you think.

As promised, Minho pulls into the train station within fifteen minutes and you hear the boot unlock with a click. He motions to the back of the car with a lazy hand, making no move to get out the car himself. You grumble to yourself as you dump your heavy suitcase in the back and slam the door a little harder than you should, but when you climb into the passenger seat and greet him, it's with your biggest, toothy smile.

You met him on your first day at university, and the two of you were inseparable ever since. Both of you took the same electives every year, rocked up to every party together, and hung out every day. You’ve called on his help more than you’d care to admit, sometimes just to feel his hand guide yours, or to watch his shirt ride up when he searches the top shelf for you. But he always came. This was your worst grievance by far, though.

“Coffee,” you announce, putting two cups into the holder. “Snacks,” you dangle the bag of crisps and cookies in front of his face before tossing it to the back seat. 

“Not only are you using me as your personal chauffeur, but you want to ruin my skin, too?” he tuts. 

“Just get to the motorway, I’ll guide you from there,” you pull out your phone and open Maps, but Minho has pulled out, the gritty roads adding a tasteful crunch to the low rumble of the car.

Hour one is spent fighting over the music, complaining about your teachers, and complaining even more about your classmates. Hour two, you feel, is socially acceptable for you to reach into the seat behind you and open up the snacks. “This dude texted me just this morning-” you're cut off by Minho.

“Your flatmate’s ex?” He asks. Far into the infinitely straight motorway, he holds the wheel with just one hand, slouched into his chair a little. He does everything so effortlessly, you can't help but linger on it for a minute. With his eyes fixed on the road, all Minho has to do to be fed is hold out his free hand. Last time you pressed a singular Dorito into it, this time it's a whole chocolate chip cookie. He frowns at your choice, but obliges himself anyway.

Nodding at his question, you leave your directions app to read the text verbatim, “He texted me, ‘I can’t keep this to myself anymore. I broke up with her because I like you more.’” You giggle to yourself as you read - you and your housemate enjoyed poking fun at him together this morning, but you look up to see Minho was not laughing at all. Both hands gripped the wheel tightly, knuckles turning slightly white.

What’s wrong? You wanted to ask, but you just still your laughter and glance out the window. Something turned in your gut, maybe you knew why, but asking him so directly… that risked making it real. “Turn coming up,” Minho’s voice slashes through your thoughts, you scramble to change back to your app. 

Mobile Data is Turned Off Turn on mobile data or use Wi-Fi to access data.

No matter, “It’s the second lane,” you say, certain in your memory. I’ll get my signal back in a moment. 

Hour three: you had guessed two more turnings, but you recognised neither. Your hometown was, apparently, still a little further, so you were looking out for the town before it on the signs that flashed past, to no avail. Did you remember wrong earlier? You look down at your phone but, still, no signal. 

The car was silent from your conversation earlier, but if Minho was still brooding, you were too panicked to notice. Another sign wooshes past, this one informing you of a petrol station a few miles away.

“Can we stop there?” You point it out to Minho.

He nods, “You... you okay?”

Elbow leaning against the car window sill, head in your hands, you shake your head. It was no use lying to him. Only when the car rolled to a stop did you show your face to him. Your vision was blurred with tears that were yet to fall, but you could see him jolt back a little, as if the sight scared him.

“Why are you crying?” He undid his seatbelt and reached forward, using his thumb to wipe one eye clear. A tender move he only reserved for you in dire moments. You run your sleeve across the other eye and mumble, “I think you know why.”

Minho purses his lips together, searching your eyes for a clue, “I really don’t, to be honest.”

“It begins with an ‘L’?” The frustration was a knot in your stomach, balling up tighter and tighter. How was he not getting it? “Like the ‘L’ word?” A poor choice of words on your part, but you were out with it now.

“...Lesbians?” he sits up straight, his eyebrows knitted together. God, you thought, is he trying to be funny, or is he just clueless? 

“Lost. Minho,” you say with snark, your eyes turn away from him for a moment in disbelief, “We’re lost!”

Now he seemed to get it, “I thought you knew where you were going?!” his voice peaks. A little too loud. 

The tears are seeping into your eyes once more. You want to say something - an excuse, an apology - but nothing comes out your stupid mouth. Instead, you watch yourself open the car door, practically rolling out of your seat before throwing the door back against the car. Then you’re walking towards the little petrol shop lighting up the dark sky. Since when had the sun set? What time even was it? You dreaded the answer.

Minho catches up to you in an instant, planting himself in front of you. The light from behind illuminated the outline of him; he was glowing. Glowing, like an angel who came to save you. He always came to save you, and yet you never did him any favours. Avoiding his eyes, you take one step to the side and try to walk around him. He blocks you again, this time with a hand on your shoulder.

“Can you just slow down and talk to me for a second?” Minho asks. “You always storm off when you’re upset and do something stupid.”

“I’m trying to buy a map,” you spit.

He sighs, then he’s winding his arms around your shoulders and pulling you in. You stumble forward, head against his chest and dizzy from his cologne. It’s far from the first time the two of you have hugged; goodbye hugs and ‘friendly’ movie cuddles and hugs when you’re feeling down. But it was strange this time. Minho committed himself to driving four - no, eight - hours through snow for you, you had just extended that time by getting lost, and now he was the one comforting you. You finally wrap your arms around his back.

“Why’d you bother driving out for me?” You say into his shoulder.

“Because you asked.” He pulls away, one corner of his mouth was pulled upwards into a smile. Then he turns on his heel, “Go sit in the car, I’ll get the map.” 

Thanks to that conveniently placed station, and Minho’s suspiciously fast driving, you were waylaid for only an hour. He did slow down, eventually, when you were back on track, for the increased snow covering the windshield and sticking to the road started to scare you a little.

“I hope it clears before you have to drive home,” you chew at your lip, but the snow showed no sign of letting up. When he pulls into your Mom’s driveway, the sky was pitch black. You wouldn’t have noticed it was there save for the snowflakes that fell from it in torrents now. Minho was adamant not to leave his heated car, but you drag him through the front door anyway. “At least stay for a coffee,” you say.

“Goodness,” a familiar voice rings from the kitchen, and your mother soon totters over to the front door, “I was about to ring you my dear- Oh, who’s this?”

“Mom, Minho. Minho, my Mom,” you sputter, realising how woefully unprepared you were for this interaction.

“Hi, Miss,” Minho says awkwardly, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“You didn’t mention a boyfriend to me, dear, or did it slip my mind?” she pauses, “No, I would surely remember such a thing-”

Both of you cut her off in unison, “Oh, he’s not-” “Uh, I’m not-” You glare at him and he shrinks back into himself. “My train got cancelled so he drove me here,” you explain, “he was about to leave.”

“If he drove you all this way, then he must stay!” your mother beckons the two of you further into the room with wild hand gestures, “I won’t let him drive home so late, and in this weather too!”

“It’s alright, uh, Miss, I don’t mind,” Minho stumbles. What was he supposed to say? Your mother wasn’t listening. “I’ve plenty of food - too much! And her bed is big enough for the two of you–”

You didn’t hear anything else she had to say after that for she was running back into the kitchen, chatting to no one in particular. Minho turned to you, wide-eyed and lips twisted in an exasperated smile. Snow was still melting into his hair from your brief adventure outside. You reach up and pick one from his hair, watching it sink into your skin, “Sorry, looks like you’re staying here,” you say, the corners of your mouth heaving a smile onto your face.

When your mother finished feeding the both of you and talked Minho to exhaustion, she ushered you upstairs to get some sleep. You looked at the double bed in your room, still in the same place as it was when you first moved to uni. It was like nothing changed, except it had; Minho was in the room with you now. Clambering under the covers, you refuse to look back at him. The bed shifts and bounces a little when he slides under the sheets next to you.

You shared a bed with him many times before, for cheap hotel rooms and unplanned sleepovers, of course it didn’t matter this time. But it did. He’s next to you in your childhood bed, he’s met your mother, and it’s Christmas. You huff and submerge yourself further under the covers, making a point to face away from him. Minho turns off the lamp, rustles around behind you for a moment, then silence falls around you. Silence weaves its way between his steady breaths and your whirling thoughts. 

Hours felt like minutes, staring at nothing behind your closed eyelids. You sigh and roll over, hoping Minho had the sense to sleep the opposite way too. He did not. When your head hits the pillow again and you open your eyes out of curiosity, he was staring back at you.

It’s just dark, you think to yourself and blink away the static. But warm streetlights bleed into your room through cracks in your blinds, and you knew you weren’t dreaming. Why is he so weird? Yet you stare back.

“What?” He finally whispers.

Yes, what? You’re drawing blanks, then you can think of only one thing. You absolutely cannot say that, but your mouth is moving anyway, “I really wanna kiss you.”

“Okay,” he blinks. A few rogue strands of hair, freshly washed of snow, fall delicately across his face. 

You’re stunned. “...Okay?” 

“So?” His lips are parted, inviting you in, deliciously open so that all you need to do to taste him is attack. But you can’t.

This is far from your first rodeo. You’ve always been able to hit on other guys, to pull them closer by their collars, to drag them through your apartment door, to wrap your legs around their waists before you reach the bed. Minho is not other guys. What if you mess it up? Yet another sigh, so far reaching it blows his stray hairs back out of his face, “So, can you help me out?”

Yes. His answer, just like every other time, is yes. But he doesn’t say it; he snakes his arm around your nape, tugs you closer, and that’s all it takes. Your lips are on his, your body is static, your mind is lost from you. You shut your eyes and allow yourself to melt into him. But then your leg is hooked around his waist. His hands travel from your clothed thighs to rest on your ass. Rolling your hips down onto him, hard, he groans into your lips. The vibrations travelling through you only spur you to move faster.

Shirts, pants, underwear, they’re all on the floor in an instant. Five minutes ago, you did not have the faintest idea you’d end up in this position. You're knelt between his legs. Minho’s hard and looking up at you expectantly. His eyes are mocking you, challenging you. So you take him on. Lips closing around his member, you cast your eyes up as you take in as much of him as you can. He’s already tensed his eyelids shut in pleasure. A devious swish of your tongue, another and another, and his head is lolling backwards. 

Minho tangles his fingers through your hair, pushing you down further onto his cock. Obliging, you begin to bob your head up and down, moving faster with each of his grunts, tongue working at him furiously. He tenses, dick throbbing and releasing warmth to your mouth; you ride him through it, his shallow panting a musical backdrop as you watch white cum drip from the corners of your mouth, down his shaft. When you release him, the rest spills onto his toned stomach. A deep inhale, to catch your breath, then you swallow what’s left.

With nothing to focus on now, no high to push him to, you’re suddenly very aware of his eyes on you. With delicate fingers, he traces the outline of your hips to your waist, lingering on your breasts and how your nipples are hard with cold and pleasure.

“Your turn,” he grins, sitting up and pushing you back into the bed before you could even defend yourself, capturing your lips with his once more.

@12daysofchristmas

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[dangraccoon]

Headaches …

Day 2

~ little lie ~ trapped together in a snowstorm ~

Word Count: 2277

Content: trapped in a cave, frequent headaches, tight spaces, references to the inhibitor chips and Order 66, being silenced, unspoken attraction/feelings

If you asked General Kenobi, the way they’d found themselves in this Force-forsaken cave was through a strategic retreat and it would be an excellent way to both evade the enemy and take them by surprise on the other side of the mountain.

If you asked Cody, this was just another scrape they’d find their way out of eventually… probably.

Cody could feel the headache growing behind his eyes. His headaches had been getting worse, not that anyone knew he’d been having them to begin with, and he thought about using one of the pain stims he kept on his belt.

No, better not, he decided. Knowing his general and how it usually went when they were cut off from the rest of the unit, they’d get into an even more complicated mess. He didn’t want to waste the small supply he did have, especially not on himself for something as measly as a headache.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Obi-Wan noted of the avalanche that closed them in. “Though not entirely unwelcome.”

“Sir?” Cody’s voice sounded more tired than usual.

“The droids would have fired blindly on the cave despite the blizzard, but they are less likely to bother with the meters of rubble blocking their line of fire,” Kenobi explained, one hand stroking his beard.

Cody didn’t answer, simply shining the light on his helmet around the cavern.

“Are you alright, dear?”

Cody must’ve been tired; he barely heard the general approach him. “Fine, sir,” he said. He knew it wasn’t entirely true, but the general just wanted to make sure Cody was uninjured.

He could practically feel Kenobi’s suspicion, nerves tingling.

“I’ve been trying to make contact with the company,” he continued. “But I don’t think anything will make it through the rubble, let alone the storm.”

“Yes, I suppose not,” Obi-Wan agreed, though he sounded distracted. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I said I’m fine, General,” Cody growled before he could think better of it. Out of his periphery, he could see Obi-Wan recoil slightly. Regret instantly coiled in his chest. “I- my apologies, sir, I didn’t–”

“That’s alright, Commander,” Obi-Wan replied, waving him off.

His tone was even-keeled as ever, but Cody felt a coldness to it; the general only ever used his rank around others, seldom when they were alone. He seemed to prefer using their names whenever possible.

“General, I–”

“I suppose we ought to find a way out of here,” Obi-Wan continued, blowing past Cody’s pitiful attempt at an apology. The general ignited his lightsaber, illuminating the dark cave along with Cody’s flashlight.

Cody inspected the new wall of rock that prevented their exit. “It would take days to clear this all.”

“Ah-ha!” The general half-shouted. “There’s a small passageway over here; it’s a tight squeeze, but we’ll fit.”

Cody joined him to look at the crevice. He crouched down in front of it. “Sir,” he started uncertainly. “I’m sure you could fit through here, but you’re a bit… less stocky.”

“Nonsense,” Obi-Wan smirked. “You’ll have to remove your belt and perhaps your chest plate, but I imagine you’ll make it through just fine, Commander.”

Cody clicked his tongue a few times, muting the mic in his helmet while he grumbled. He watched Obi-Wan slip through the thin space ridiculously easy.

“Alright, pass your gear through,” he called.

After a few more unbroadcasted grunts of discontent, Cody’s chest plate, back plate, and belt were waiting to be reapplied with Obi-Wan. Cody pressed himself into the odd space, needing to contort his posture a little until he was almost, almost – thunk.

Cody sighed.

“What is it?” Kenobi called.

Cody clicked his mic back on. “I have to go back, sir; my helmet doesn’t fit through the top second.”

“Ah yes,” Obi-Wan hummed. “I did scrape my cheek through there.”

Cody shuffled back, choosing not to make a sarcastic comment about the timing of that warning.

Once he was back out, he rolled his helmet through to Obi-Wan and began to squeeze back through.

As Cody finally made it through, he looked up at his general expectantly.

“Perhaps you should’ve just taken all of your armor off,” Obi-Wan mused.

Without realizing it, and with his helmet still in the general’s hands, he clicked his tongue once, then twice more.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Commander Cody, did you just try to mute me?”

Cody froze his hands still at the edges of his chest plate where they’d been reattaching them.

Cody could feel his heart stop.

He’d done it, now; he’d pushed too far. Yes, General Kenobi was easier-going than other Generals, and their relationship over the course of the war had gotten far more… casual than the rigid professionality with which it had begun. But now? First snapping at him, now trying to mute him like a shiny? Oh, he’d be reassigned to Kamino by tomorrow.

But then Kenobi did something. It wasn’t entirely unusual; Cody had seen it before, but he wasn’t typically the subject of it, merely a bystander.

General Obi-Wan Kenobi eyed him, then lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the cave floor, patting the space in front of him.

Cody was still certain that he no longer had a heartbeat.

“Sir?” he rasped out.

“Sit, Cody.”

Relief, like a light mist of rain, showered over his nerves. The use of his name was a good sign, wasn’t it?

Cody did as he was told, wincing slightly as his knee twinged on the way.

Once he was settled, he glanced up at Obi-Wan.

“Please talk to me,” Obi-Wan said. It was soft, gentle even; it wasn’t a command or an order, but a request. “I know we’re in a difficult situation, but you and I have been through worse and came out of it alright. Something is bothering you.”

“Sir, I’ve been–” Cody started, but something screamed at him to stop, to shut his mouth. His jaw clicked shut.

“You’ve been?” Obi-Wan prompted.

Cody’s mouth opened again, only to find it closing once more. His brow furrowed as he tried again to voice his issue. “I–”

Obi-Wan’s expression shifted from concern to confusion. “It’s alright,” he said, sounding less like the professional, charismatic front he put on in front of others and more like the friend he’d become to Cody. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Cody fought once more with his own vocal cords. Why couldn’t he just tell him? It’s just a damn headache. He opened his mouth again and again but all that came out was air.

Obi-Wan sat silently, watching Cody with growing worry. After a few more moments of silence, he reached towards Cody, his hand stopping just short of touching his shoulder.

“Is there another way that would be easier?” Obi-Wan tried. “Perhaps you could write it?”

Cody looked down to the dirt where he was gesturing. He reached for it but found his hand to be shaking.

“Oh, Cody,” Obi-Wan murmured, his voice full of sympathy. “Would you…” he hesitated. “Would you be willing to show me?”

Obi-Wan’s hand extended towards Cody, palm open and inviting.

Cody glanced between his hand and his face a few times, finding nothing but warmth and deep concern.

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan stammered. “I- I shouldn’t push you like that.”

Cody’s hands acted before he could think, grasping his general’s hand between his.

Cody wasn’t sure what happened next. Obi-Wan gasped, his eyes opened wide but went out of focus. He was certain he could almost feel Obi-Wan in his mind.

A few minutes later, Obi-Wan seemed to come back slowly. His eyes refocusing on the man before him, his hand slightly trembling between Cody’s. He let out a shaky breath in what felt more like a sob. He wasn’t sure, he might’ve imagined it, but Cody thought he saw a few tears slide down Obi-Wan’s cheeks.

“Sir?” he managed, his voice still being difficult.

“Cody,” Obi-Wan whispered, his voice tinged with something Cody struggled to identify. He used his free hand to wipe the errant tears from his eyes.

“Please, sir. What did you see?” Cody’s voice finally came.

Obi-Wan looked up at him. He hesitated, seeming to choose his words carefully. “You’re in pain,” he said, his eyes flicking from Cody’s own to the right side of Cody’s head and back. “You– I think you might be… unwell.”

Cody could feel the gears whirring in his mind. “General, Helix said that blow last week didn’t give me a concussion.”

“It didn’t, this… this is something else,” Obi-Wan pulled his hands away, wrapping his arms around himself. “You’ve been having headaches, that’s what you were trying to tell me.” Cody nodded. “It seems there may be something… something in your head that could be causing them.”

Cody struggled to process the information.

There was something in his head?

That didn’t make any sense. Clones didn’t get sick the same way natborns did; sure, they could fall ill despite their genetically enhanced immune system, but unknown diseases developing in a clone’s body? That shouldn’t be possible.

“Cody, did you hear me?”

His general’s voice–as well as the icy cold drop of water that fell and landed on his aching temple–pulled him back to the moment.

“Sorry, sir,” he replied.

“That’s alright,” Obi-Wan said. “I asked if you thought we should stop to rest.”

He nodded. He should vocally agree. He should refer to Obi-Wan by his rank or ‘sir’. He should stop calling him ‘Obi-Wan’ in his mind. After all, good soldiers–

His head throbbed.

Without his notice, Obi-Wan moved him around, gently guiding him to sit on a rock while he set up a miniature warmth lamp that Cody kept on his belt.

“Cody?”

He blinked a few times, Obi-Wan coming into focus in front of him–no, above him?

“Come back to me, dear one,” Obi-Wan said upon seeing Cody’s eyes clear. “That’s it. It’s alright.”

“What–”

“You passed out,” Obi-Wan supplied as he helped Cody to sit up. “You were upright one moment and falling over the next.”

A shiver ran down Cody’s spine as he realized was doomed–he knew it and he was sure Obi-Wan knew it–he’d be sent to Kamino. Not to train the younger generations of clones, not to treat whatever sickness worked into his brain. No, he’d be decommissioned. He’d be killed. His body would be stuck in a lab in the depths of Tipoca City and studied. CC-2224 was meant to be an exemplary product of Kaminoan ingenuity; what could have possibly gone so wrong with it?

“That’s not going to happen,” Obi-Wan said suddenly, pushing Cody’s brain to finally realize that he’d gotten up and was pacing while speaking his anxieties aloud. Obi-Wan’s hands gripped Cody’s upper arms, his eyes almost panicked. “I will not let them take you from me.”

Cody blinked. He didn’t hear that right, did he? He couldn’t have heard that right.

“From…” Obi-Wan mumbled. Cody wasn’t sure he’d ever heard him mumble before. “From the 212th.”

His hold on Cody loosened, and Cody found himself missing the contact. Damnit, he thought, certain he was just thinking it and not actually saying it aloud. I thought I was past this.

“I won’t let them take you,” Obi-Wan repeated quietly, turning away.

Cody couldn’t help the way his heart seemed to keep skipping beats. The same heroism he’d witnessed countless times on the battlefield was here now in his words. The same heroism that had attracted Cody in the first place.

A string of curse words flowed through his mind. You’re being irrational, he told himself. Obi–The general, he forced himself to think. The general cares about all of the vode. He hates decommissioning on the whole, not just the idea of me being decommissioned.

“Well, now that you’re awake, we should continue if you’re feeling up to it,” Obi–General Kenobi said.

They trudged through, the dark cavern only illuminated by the general’s lightsaber and Cody’s flashlight.

“General,” he said after a few moments.

“Yes, de– yes, Cody?”

“I’m– I’d like to apologize, sir,” he said.

The general stopped but didn’t turn to face him. “What are you–”

“I’m sorry I didn't tell you,” he managed. He could feel whatever had a hold of his voice before creeping back in. “Sir, I should have told you about the– a-about my–”

“It’s alright, Cody,” General Kenobi said once more, though this time he could feel the depth of warmth behind his words. “You don’t have to try and say it. Whatever–or quite possibly whoever–is keeping you from speaking of it will not be letting up on that.”

That didn’t soothe Cody’s nerves.

“I still shouldn’t have–”

“Cody,” Obi-Wan said, a little more forcefully as he turned to face his commander. “I am not upset that you didn’t tell me. I am upset that it’s happening at all.”

Cody was fairly certain that Obi-Wan could tell the distinction did little to ease Cody’s mind.

“Cody, I… I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that I care for you, quite deeply if I’m being honest,” he continued, and Cody was suddenly very aware of his pounding heart. “I don’t know what is happening to you, I don’t know how or why and that is why I’m upset. You couldn’t have told me because it wouldn’t let you. “

“Y-you…?” Cody hummed. Was he reading into that statement too much? Probably, but what if he wasn’t? Would it really be so bad to let himself imagine what a life like that could be?

Obi-Wan’s cheeks turned dark in the blue light. “Let’s… let’s keep going.”

He turned quickly away, continuing through the cave. Despite himself, Cody felt his arm reach after the man.

He shook his head. You’re an idiot.

His head throbbed again.

To be continued…

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[razzmatash]

Winner Day 4 - Board games Love and Deepspace Sylys x f!OC 2035 Words Read on Ao3 banner by firefly-graphics

“Ready to submit?”

Calli wrinkled her nose and stared harder at her cards. As if that could magically change the low numbers. She finally sighed and put down her cards. “You win,” she muttered.

“Don’t sound so disappointed, kitten. You can’t win them all.”

She hadn’t won any today. It was like the kitties had turned against her. “Did you bribe them?” she accused, looking up at him.

Sylus cocked a brow at her, shuffling the deck of cards again. “Bribe a deck of cards and the holographic cats that go with them?” he elaborated. “If anyone was going to bribe a program, it would be you.”

How had she never thought about using the muses to try to win? Because she liked beating him with her own skills. Calli sighed and slumped back in her chair. “Do you want to play something else?”

“We still have half an hour booked for the table, sweetie. You were the one that wanted to come here.”

Because of the holiday promotion they were doing. In addition to the little collector’s badges, they were giving away Christmas plush of the kitties. She’d tried to be strong, knowing she already had more than enough plushies at home but she was weak. So she’d convinced both him and her sister to come play with her, separately, to try to increase her odds of getting one. She had done alright against Carrow and managed to get one of the limited items but Sylus was mopping the floor with her today. “I used up all my luck on Carr,” she muttered, looking away from the table.

They’d booked a time later in the evening, mostly for Sylus and partly because the chances of there being children in this time slot was low. He would have come no matter when she’d made the reservation but she’d wanted to try to make it pleasant for him. Maybe she’d tried too hard and now it was fun for him only.

He chuckled from across the table. “Kitten, you are the worst sore loser I’ve ever met.”

She puffed out her cheeks. She was well aware of that. “Nothing wrong with liking winning.”

“I didn’t say there was but you need to recognize when the odds are stacked against you.”

Jerk. Sometimes he let her win, clearly making the wrong choices when it came to placing cards, but there was none of that tonight. He was playing to win and continually doing so. “Let’s take a break,” she said, looking back at him. “Do you want something to eat?”

Scarlet eyes flicked toward the counter before returning to her. “Do you?”

“I wouldn’t mind something else to drink,” Calli admitted, starting to push her chair away from the table. She stopped when his large hand caught her wrist and blinked at him.

“I’ll get it. Hot or cold?”

“Hot.”

He nodded and stood up from the table, passing her the cards.

Fiddling with them absently, she watched him walk up to the counter. How did he look so out of place yet right at home at the same time? His larger frame seemed to dominate the cafe, even with picking the bigger location. It wasn’t just his height but the breadth of his shoulders. He commanded attention just by walking across the room and he was getting it. She could hear whispers and murmurs as he passed tables, glances at him then back at her as they traced where he’d come from. She didn’t care what they thought when they saw her, a little gleeful over the surprised looks even though it was at odds with the holiday spirit. It always amused her when she watched people approach him, attempting to flirt and only being shut down as he turned his attention back to her.

He only ever had eyes for her.

Calli looked away and down at the cards. How many tokens had he won already? The system would keep track and let him cash out once they were done but she was curious. He’d been so nonchalant with each win, ready to start the next match without giving her a moment to sulk. She highly doubted it was because he wanted to keep playing; more likely he didn’t want to deal with her bad mood.

Her nose wrinkled. No. She wasn’t going to get upset. It was just a game and just a plushie. He’d come in from the N109 to spend time with her. She needed to not be sulky.

Looking up as a cup was placed in front of her, she started to smile at him before blinked as something was pressed against her lips. She automatically opened them and bit into the pastry. “Sylus?” she mumbled after swallowing as he took his seat.

“You haven’t had anything since we got here,” he said, putting the pasty on a plate that he pushed closer to her.

Was he saying that she was grumpy because she hadn’t had any sugar? She ripped off another piece and nibbled on it. Or was it just his concern that she needed to eat more, that as soon as he took his eyes off her she was going to stop? Looking at him, she knew it was likely a combination of both. “Do you really want to keep playing?”

“Yes.”

Her nose wrinkled. “You really want to keep beating me that badly?”

“I really want to spend time with you,” he corrected, shuffling the cards and placing them in the centre of the board. “You’re the one that wanted to come here tonight.”

Because she’d thought she might have some hope of getting a prize. Instead all she was getting was pain. Sighing, she picked up her cup and sipped at the hot chocolate he’d gotten her. “Who first?”

“You.”

Of course. She took another sip before setting the cup aside and stealing herself for another loss. A frown crossed her face as she stared at the five and six she pulled, both matching a pair of the coloured cups on the table. “Sylus.”

“It’s your turn, sweetie.”

Calli stared at him but all he did was smile at her and wait for her to play a card. Huffing, she slid the six under the appropriate cup and watched the pink kitten appear inside it. “You don’t have to cheat to make me feel better.”

“Would I do that?”

She watched him play a three. “Yes.”

He chuckled and waved her on.

“I can win on my own,” she muttered, slipping the five onto the board.

“Grumpy when she loses, grumpy when she wins. Sweetie, you can’t play both sides that hard.”

Says the man who played both sides whenever it was convenient for him. “It doesn’t feel good to win when I didn’t do it on my own.”

He hummed and pulled a card. “Do you want to swap cards then? We can always trade.”

A deal always in her favour although every time she’d tried tonight he’d plucked the best card back into his hand. “No thank you.”

“Are we in a stalemate then?” Sylus asked curiously as she drew a card.

“Maybe.” Most likely since he was also drawing a card. “You could just win. There’s not much point in me winning a token or two at this point.”

“Then what’s the point?”

She gave him a look before turning to the prize machine. “I’m greedy,” she muttered.

Sylus chuckled lowly, playing a card. “So you don’t want just one, you want all of them?”

“They’re a matching set. One is nice but...they’ll be out of place.”

“Do you even have any place to put them?” he asked, playing another card that had her frowning as she realized he’d played two sixes in the coloured cups. He was ahead of her. Again.

“I’ll find space.” But at this rate she wasn’t going to get anymore than the one she’d managed to score in her games against Carrow. Her nose wrinkled as he beat her and she tossed down her cards. “Not that it matters.”

“Of course it matters,” he said smoothly, resetting the board again. “Finish your snack.”

Sighing, she slumped back in her chair and alternated between the pastry and her drink. “How many do you have?” she asked.

“Enough.”

What was that supposed to even mean? When he started to deal the cards again, she shook her head. “You win,” she said.

“We still have the table for a bit.”

She knew that but she also knew that she didn’t want to completely ruin the night and her mood was going to keep souring if she kept losing.

His legs shifted under the table, wrapping around hers and caging her in with him. “Don’t be grumpy, kitten,” he murmured.

She was trying. She just didn’t know why he’d turned on hard mode tonight. She doubted he wanted any of them for himself since he’d sighed when she’d tried to put any on display in his room. Even if he’d relented and allowed a pair of crows to sit on a shelf, his interest wasn’t in the rewards. It was in the time spent together.

“Which one do you have?” he asked quietly.

“The red one.” If she was honest, it was the one she’d wanted the most and she was glad that she’d at least gotten it. But it would have been cute lined up with the other holiday colours. It just wasn’t meant to be and she had to be content that she’d gotten lucky enough to pull it.

Sylus’ gaze slid to the machines along one wall where people were slipping in their tokens with excitement. “How many are there?”

“Four.”

He hummed before pushing away from the table. His hand on her shoulder stopped her from joining him and he pointedly looked at the pastry and drink. “Finish them,” he told her.

She frowned up at him but he didn’t say anything else as he went back to the counter. He wasn’t going to order her more food was he? They’d already had dinner before coming here so he knew she’d eaten so why was he so focused on making sure she finished these?

Turning to look out the window, she cradled the cup in her hands and watched the snow drift down lazily. The city was slowly turning into a winter wonderland and if it kept up, there would be a decent layer by the time the holiday arrived. Which would be nice. It had been a few years since they’d had any snow to go with it. The perfect weather to cuddle up inside and watch the lights reflect off the snow. Maybe she could-

Calli blinked as several items thumped gently onto the table before her eyes widened and jerked up to find Sylus beside the table again. She hadn’t taken a good look at the soft pile on the table but she was willing to bet it was a full set of the limited holiday plushies.

“What?” he asked mildly. “You didn’t think I was going to keep them for myself did you?”

She continued to stare, feeling silly that she hadn’t thought of that. She’d been too caught up in losing she hadn’t really thought about what he did every single time he won a prize when they were together. Her cheeks coloured as he chuckled and braced a hand on the table to lean down to her. She made a soft noise as he kissed her and kept staring as he moved away.

He smiled and held out a hand to her. “Come on. I should get my grumpy kitten home so she has enough time to figure out where her kittens are going to go.”

“Are you going to help me?”

“Haven’t I already?”

It wasn’t a no. A fizzy happiness welled up in her as she took his hand and she popped up onto her toes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Sylus, and I’m sorry.”

“Forget the second bit, sweetie. I’m well equipped to deal with your claws.”

Looking at the little pile of plush, her mouth quirked. He was just well equipped to deal with her, claws or not.

[heelwriting]

Comfortable silence

Day/Prompt: Day 7 - "The holidays aren't so bad with you around"

Fandom/Character(s): AEW All Elite Wrestling / Hook x F!Reader

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 567

Summary: Hook/Tyler is not a big fan of large gatherings but after meeting reader he feels a bit better about it

@12daysofchristmas

A/N: I know he parties too this is just to fit with his wrestling character and the prompt lol

Being mostly known as a retrieved individual, his friends understood his character and never questioned him about it but then other people they did find it weird that he almost never talked Tyler didn’t understand why it bothered them so much, it wasn’t any of their business when or how much he talked but that’s why for the most part he prefers not going to a lot of parties.

When she started working in AEW, she saw Tyler alone in one of the tables at catering, she already was familiar with who he was so she walked towards his table.

“Do you mind if I seat here?”

She waited for a response but Hook just nodded and she sat down, 10 minutes went by he was mesmerized that she wasn’t bombarding him questions like other people would normally be, they sat in comfortable silence for half an hour.

“You’re new here, right?”

He asked after a while.

“Yes, this is my first day”

“Well, welcome aboard”

Hook fist bumped her hand.

“I’ll see you around”

He said getting up and leaving her alone.

People had told her that was how Hook behaved and she didn’t have a problem with that, it seemed they had started on the right track and just kept feeling good whenever they were around each other which resulted in a friendship, sometimes they even traveled together.

She had become important to Tyler and she felt the same with him, they felt comfortable around each other and for them it was enough.

They had been friends for months and when December rolled around Tyler stared having a bad mood, he struggled a lot during Christmas with all the parties thrown in just 1 month, there was always something to do or something to say and he wasn’t a big fan of it.

“So are you going to Tony’s party?”

She asked.

“Huh? Oh, the Christmas party? I don’t know”

“I’ll be there, you can search for me in case you go”

Hook thought about it for a few days and even though he was still in doubt he thought he’d at least have her there.

“You came!”

She exclaimed, she fist bumped him and then they made their way to the bar to get some drinks, they rolled around a few tables saying hi to some of their co-workers but ended up going outside and sat on a bench, they were watching the night sky, the starts where bright that night and the moon was almost full.

Tyler sat with a leg over the other and both hands behind his neck just enjoying the night while the party still raged inside, she was humming the song being played inside moving her feet and hands to the beat of the music.

He looked at her and smiled, he imitated the drumming from the song to compliment her air guitar riff, they started laughing.

“It’s a good song”

Tyler said after it was over.

“It truly is”

She seconded his words.

After the silence once again wrapped them, Hook turned around to talk to her, he doubted saying what he want to say and fidgeted with the gem of his hoodie, he took a deep breath and just said what he felt ever since they knew each other.

"You know, the holidays aren't so bad with you around"

“You’re not so bad to be around either”

[princessbriarrose]

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me! Two people people that looks like us!

[diskaywrites]

12 Days of Christmas Day 12: Feast

𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥 ���𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐖𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠------𝐀𝐄𝐖 𝐀𝐔------𝐀𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐰𝐬 (𝐨𝐜) 𝐱 𝐋𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐂𝐚𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚 (𝐨𝐜) 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐏𝐓𝐒𝐃 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒𝟖𝟕

🎕┈┈┈┈🎕❂⋯❋⋯❂🎕┈┈┈┈🎕🎕┈┈┈┈🎕❂⋯❋⋯❂🎕┈┈┈┈🎕🎕┈┈┈┈🎕❂⋯❋⋯❂🎕┈┈┈┈🎕

The moment the egg had dropped and cracked against the linoleum floor, Levi Cabana had felt his chest tighten and his hands shake. It had been like this since the attack at the hands of Devin Heraldry and Josef Belmont. His attack had left him near death and all Levi could remember was the crunch of boots across the floor of his bakery kitchen, the glass of the broken display case and eggshells heavy underneath the combat boots Heraldry always wore.

His back slid down the wooden counters, eyes closed as he held a hand flat against his chest. Deep breath in, deep breath out. He knew what to do by now. Levi had been in therapy for long enough that this response was ingrained in him by now. He let out the last breath slowly, opening his eyes to see his partner Aaron sitting across from him in the same position, knees pressed to his chest with a gentle look in his soft gray eyes. "You okay, Levi?"

"I…I dropped the egg and it shattered," Levi managed to get out. His chest still felt incredibly tight, but his hands had finally stopped their shaking.

Aaron scooted closer to Levi, reaching a hand out to take one of his partner's. He could feel the grains of sugar still on the baker's hands, the sweet aroma of the first of several batches of cookies Levi had been working on wafting through the small apartment kitchen. "Hey, hey! You're okay! It was just one egg. No one's here to hurt you. Just me, okay."

Levi let his fingers wrap around Aaron's larger hand, grounding himself in the moment. "I…I'm supposed to get the cookies and the matzah ball soup. How can I do all that if I can't even crack a damn egg?"

"We take baby steps through this, right?" Aaron tried to calm his partner down, a sympathetic look in his eyes.

"THIS was supposed to be the baby step," Levi's laugh was bitter as he freed his hand from Aaron's to wipe the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand, "I wasn't going to be able to work in the bakery so I decided to do this all here. I've done everything from here! I just…I don't know how I'm gonna get back to my normal!"

Aaron cupped Levi's tear stained cheeks with both hands, resting their foreheads together, "Listen to me, Levi. I am willing to do whatever it takes to help you. Lou and Cass are willing to help you, whatever it takes. Me and you are in this for the long haul."

Levi pressed a gentle kiss to Aaron's lips, foreheads still resting together. There was a lot of work to be done to get back to where he was running the bakery once again, but with someone as special as Aaron by his side, that work didn't seem so hard.

[logannc]

And on the 9th day of Christmas my true love gave to me was a granny sweater speedo ❤️

[fandoms-are-my-life2014]

12 Days of Christmas Prompts!

Rule Follower

Day 9- I like it in here. It’s peaceful.

Chicago PD- Jay Halstead & Original Female Character & Greg ‘Mouse’ Gerwitz

No Warnings

Word Count-1025

@12daysofchristmas

[memegione286]

Please enjoy the 12 Days of Luigimas, a parody song I created!

[inenochian]

If On A Winter's Night...

Chapter 4 is posted! Chapter 4 of "If On A Winter's Night..." is now up!

[usanews888]

Is anything open on Christmas Day 2024? Here are open stores, restaurants and fast-food chains.

[onekeii]

We can eat the snow

Day 3: Kissing in the snow | Accelerated heartbeat Genshin Impact: Xiao x GN!Reader Warnings/Genre: light angst, fluff, reader has self-esteem issues, not proof read Word count: 942 AN: i haven't played genshin in like 2 years but i love xiao

Read on AO3

Your mysterious Yaksha companion never gave you a break. Danger was always around the corner with him, and you started to think your body couldn’t produce adrenaline anymore. Or maybe you were just high on it all the time. Today was no different.

“Xiao!” You call out after running down the inn’s many stairs. He’s not standing too far, back facing you as he stares at the fresh snow thinly veiling the ground. “What is it this time?” You say exasperatedly. It’s not that you don’t care, but running after him like this all the time, finding him contemplative after defeating the threat before you could even lift your own sword, was exhausting. Why do you stick around? Why does he bother to keep you around?

He doesn’t respond. It’s unlike him. Xiao’s usually too on edge to let anything slip past him, or maybe he was ignoring you unintentionally. You curse under your breath as you take careful steps towards him, your foot slips on a particularly wet and icy patch but you dig your sword into the ground, you find your balance again. Always a fight to get closer to him, huh? You laugh to yourself.

Finally, you reach him in one piece, and ask again, more nonchalantly this time, “Whatcha doing?” Yeah, you’re totally chill right now, you think. Except you’re only chill in the sense that it’s cold, and you forgot to put on an extra layer when you ran out to find Xiao. You grimace - at the cold and at your stupidity.

When he turns around, his eyes aren’t dark and brooding like always. They’re wide and shining and a brighter gold than you’ve ever seen before. He’s holding a clump of snow in his gloved hand, close to his face, his cheeks puffed out as innocently as a squirrel. Xiao swallows - what, you don’t know - and finally responds, “Eating.”

Your eyes search over him once more; he’s holding nothing but the snow. When you peer over his shoulder, you can see where he’s dug it straight out of the ground. Your vision tilts, “The snow?!” you exclaim.

“...Yeah?” He takes another bite. Xiao has mused about eating snow before, but you could never take the childish fantasies of an immortal so seriously. Forgetting how slippery the ground was beneath you, your quick step forward (in a valiant and sick attempt to knock the snow out of Xiao’s hand) did not land. Instead, your heel just kept slipping forward, then it was arcing in the air, and your limbs were too numb with cold to move quick enough. You slipped. In your shock, grief, stress, you slipped . You shut your eyes and braced for impact.

Woosh , a warm arm wrapped around the back of your waist, pulling you away from your terrible fate written in the ice. Of course Xiao is the one who caught you. Opening your eyes, a breath hitches in your throat at how close his face is to yours, you can feel his breath against your chin, and it’s�� It’s cold from the goddamn snow. 

“You’re so strange,” you scoff. You’re very much safe from falling now, but Xiao doesn’t let you go or help you to your feet. He just stares at you longer, his gold eyes wide and unfazed still. When you start nervously looking beyond him, he finally says, “Your heart is beating so fast. Are you that cold?”

Indeed, it’s pulsing violently in your chest right now, desperately pumping blood to your freezing skin. It’s thumping so loud you can feel it behind your eyes and in your stomach, setting your blood on fire, urging you to do something stupid. Doesn’t he realise how his grip around your waist burns? That you might want to feel even more of him against your icy skin?

He’s still holding onto the dwindling pile of snow in his free hand, swallowing yet another mouthful. This side of him was absurd, ‘normal’ was not the right word - normal people did not eat snow - but it was so… mundane? Wide eyes and puffed cheeks and a disturbing curiosity suited him surprisingly well. It was cute. How could Xiao be cute?

Fuck it, you think, I can always leave tomorrow. You hook one arm around the back of his neck and close the gap, catching his lips in yours.

But he pulls away instantly. Ouch, he could have at least been shocked for a moment. You breathe a sigh, thinking up your dramatic escape. At least that weight was off your chest now. Xiao doesn’t let go of you, though, and you’re reduced to staring at him awkwardly once again. His brows are creased but he’s not angry with you, maybe confused? You’d rather he was angry, then it would be easier to walk away.

Then your back falls into the snowy ground, clothes already soaked through, “Thanks,” you snark and try to sit up, but Xiao’s eyes are in front of yours once more. His cold, gloved hand (it’s no longer holding the snow!) pushes you down by the shoulder, traces down the side of your arm and intertwines with your own hand. Xiao’s knees are planted either side of your leg and he’s hovering over you completely, blocking any light or sky from your view. There’s only him. 

And there’s only his lips on yours. Again. For longer, much longer, this time. He moves slowly, with uncertainty, unlike his usual grace in battle. You cup his cheek and welcome this surprise, just like he welcomes your tongue when you ask. Xiao’s mouth is still frozen from the cold, but you’ll soon change that. 

@12daysofchristmas

If you enjoyed, please consider helping out by dropping a reblog or follow ☆

[dangraccoon]

Playing Favorites

Day 4 ~ mulled wine ~ playing board games ~

Word Count: 610 Content: SUGGESTIVE 18+ ONLY; alcohol, Star Wars poker (sabacc), strip poker, mention of working at a casino, masc (he/him) reader

You couldn’t deny that the mug of fruity and spiced wine in your hand was influencing your decisions by this point; this was, after all, your third or fourth cup.

You laughed as Crosshair and Wrecker bickered about game money owed.

“Maybe we should play a different game,” Echo suggested with the tiniest hint of a smirk.

Eventually, Hunter had to separate and sit between his youngest brothers.

“Anything but board games,” he grumbled.

“Sabacc then?” you grinned. There were various sounds of agreement, but Crosshair–seated directly across from you–smirked as he leaned over the table.

“Strip sabacc.”

It wasn’t a question or a suggestion, it was a challenge. His eyes–golden and piercing, as if they could see right through you–never left yours as you flustered. The others went still and silent, watching you with curiosity.

Tech was the first to speak. His cheeks were flushed slightly, though you couldn’t tell if it was from the drink or the situation. “Crosshair, that is completely inappropriate.”

He continued, but you were locked in a game of chicken with Crosshair.

“It’s fine, Tech,” you interrupted, placing a hand on his arm. “Let’s do it.”

The curiosity seemed to make the air sizzle into excitement.

“Besides,” you added. “I’ll be the only one still dressed at the end of the night.”

That was met with chuckles and challenges by the others, but Tech tapped your shoulder so lightly you almost didn’t feel it.

“You do not have to do this if you do not want,” he told you, his voice lowered to avoid the notice of the others. “Crosshair is just being… insensitive, for lack of a better word.”

“I know he’s being a dick,” you shrugged. “But my mama might’ve raised a fool, but she didn’t raise a bitch.”

You could practically see the buffering screen behind his eyes as he blinked at you.

“What’s the matter, Tech?” you laughed, leaning against him. “You don’t like the possibility of seeing me in my underwear?”

His eyes widened and his cheeks turned the same deep red as Hunter’s bandana. His mouth opened as if to speak, but closed as no words came.

You laughed as you turned back to watch Hunter deal the cards.

Four rounds later, you were the only one with all the clothing you’d started with.

Tech and Hunter had faired relatively well, having only removed both of their gloves and the top half of their black underarmor.

Echo had argued that his prosthetics counted as “being worn” for long enough that you’d all given up on arguing back, and so had removed his scomp as well as his glove.

You were half convinced that Crosshair was messing with you, having removed the pants of his underarmor first, followed then by the top half.

Poor Wrecker was down to his boxers and socks and opting not to continue playing.

“I don’t get it,” Echo hummed from your side as Tech dealt from your other side. “How the hell are you so good at this?”

You smiled at him as you picked up your cards, then stared directly at Crosshair.

“You know, in all the time you boys have known me, only one of you has bothered to ask what I do for work.”

Four of the men looked between each other before landing on Tech.

“He was a dealer at a gambling cantina,” he explained. “He has been playing sabacc for a year or two less than we’ve been alive.”

The boys instantly began arguing, but you turned to Tech.

“That, among other things, is why you’re my favorite,” you smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

« Previous Day Next Day »

Thanks for reading! - River

12 Days of Christmas Master List DangRaccoon Master List Tag List Form Read on AO3

Tag List:

@writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @padawancat97 @wishyouthetest @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[grantvaleska]

Hat: ZEX - Hat Christmas! Outfit: THIRST - I'm Your Gift NEW @ MAINSTORE! Lights: Off-Line - Santa's Helper Lights Arm Warmers: Noche - Beau Warmers Hairbase: Volkstone - Ortega Hairbase Body Blush: Ladybird - Tender Body Blush Backdrop: The Bearded Guy - Snow Cabin Backdrop

[heelwriting]

The Football Game

Day/Prompt: Day 3 - "If you don't have gloves, you can just hold my hand."

Fandom/Character(s): WWE/ Wrestling / Dominik Mysterio x F!Reader

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 461

Summary: Domink and reader have to attend a football game together as representatives of WWE and they don't really get along

@12daysofchristmas

When the company decided to fly her and Dominik to a football game to represent them it was supposed to be a huge honor but for once you weren’t a fan of football and it was snowing, no matter how covered you were it wasn’t enough to be around the field.

Dominik on the other hand he was thriving, he seemed to do fine in the weather and he was smiling ear to hear watching the game, he was into the game and as he celebrated a touchdown she just scoffed, he shot her a glance lifting his left eyebrow, she turned her head to the other side, watching anything else to distract herself.

Now she had his attention, even if it was just by coincidence.

By the half of the game the press came over to interview them and take pictures with the championships they had brought as ambassadors for WWE, she was forced to stand beside Dominik in most photos.

Dominik tried to put a hand over her shoulders and she shrugged it off.

“Get your hands off me”

She whispered while she was still smiling for a picture.

“Why? You get nervous if touch you?”

“You wish”

She side eyed him for the rest of the shoot, they still had to sit beside each other for the rest of the game.

As time passed she felt the weather drop and her hands getting colder and colder, no matter how much she out them on the pockets of her coat it wasn’t enough, she couldn’t stay still and even Dominik started noticing, he ended up showing her his covered hand as if inviting her to take it.

“If you don’t have gloves, you can just hold my hand”

“No thanks, I prefer to keep the cold”

“Oh come on, nothing’s gonna happen”

“You sure that ‘mami’ won’t get mad if you touch me?”

“Guess we’ll find out together”

Dominik said winking and without asking her this time he took his hand and laced their fingers together, he smiled at her and this time she tried to be calm, after all, he was just trying to help her.

After a while her other hand felt too cold and she ended up taking his hand between both of hers to try and get warmer, Dominik smiled at her and then put his other hand over hers.

“Don’t get to comfortable, is just because it’s cold”

“Yeah, I know”

“Dom?”

“What?”

“Thanks”

She finally smiled at him for a few seconds, she did feel grateful because the last 30 minutes of game were dreadful but at least she wasn’t freezing as much now, they might not have had started on the right side but this was certainly the start of something interesting.

[princessbriarrose]

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me! Gingerbread men that looks like us!