#Maybe I should wait until before Christmas

[spacewreck51]

I need to come out

[james-spooky]

this is a test

[cesium-sheep]

I'm worried about not having money to get the pet supplies we need tomorrow, even though matt will have the money and will get them if I ask. I hate shit like this. especially since mom kicked the beehive.

[plutotheplum]

Winter's Kiss

sylus x fem!reader

summary: luke and kieran rope you into spending christmas at the n109 zone (and kissing their boss).

cw: fluff, soft!sylus, kissing under the mistletoe, luke and kieran being idiots, found family

wc: 2.7k

a/n: merry christmas eve/christmas my lovelies!! some fluff for the holiday season! here's to hoping sylus turns up under our christmas trees :)

also on ao3!

Somehow, you’d ended up in the N109 Zone for Christmas.

It wasn’t like the barrage of texts from Luke and Kieran had weighed upon your decision, the rapid influx of messages from the twins demanding your presence for Christmas. That coupled with the image of Sylus alone on Christmas night hadn’t made your stomach churn and heart ache at all.

The year had been a tumultuous one. Wanderers, disturbing visions and wanted criminals had you on edge these past few months, so perhaps unwinding with said, now somewhat mellow, wanted criminals was warranted in some way. 

You heft the presents under your arms, moving your fingers to stabilize the wrapped goods when you feel one of them begin to slip. Shopping hadn’t been too difficult, although choosing a gift for Sylus had proved to be somewhat of a challenge. You weren’t sure whether to get him something heartfelt or to gift him a refurbished gun with new prototyped features that were advertised to the Hunter Association. 

The glittering streams of tinsel drags you out of your thoughts, a smile pulling at your lips as you imagine Luke, Kieran and Sylus decorating. You hear panicked, hushed whispers when you turn the corner, a laugh spilling out of you when you see the sight before you.

Luke perched atop Kieran’s shoulders, Kieran grumbling irritatedly when Luke flails and misses the tip of the Christmas tree, the golden star falling off only for Kieran to shift and have Luke catch it.

“It’s not that hard, you idiot,” Kieran grunts, his knees bending in an attempt to readjust to Luke’s weight.

“Then you try!” Luke protests.

“I thought you two were meant to be in tune,” you muse, stepping closer, over the strewn wrapping paper and bending down to add your presents to the growing collection under the Christmas tree. 

“We are,” they both say in unison, their eyes landing on you.

“You made it!” Luke says happily, squirming, “Boss will be glad.”

“ Really glad,” Keiran adds, his annoyance forgotten momentarily. “We’re glad too.”

You smile at them, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s nice to see you guys too. Maybe you should try holding the star at the tip, Luke?”

“That’s what I told him!” Kieran says, letting out an aggrieved sigh. 

Luke huffs indignantly, adjusting his position yet again as Keiran steps closer to the tree, giving Luke some more leverage. It’s another failed attempt and Kieran is rolling his eyes, dumping Luke onto his feet unceremoniously. 

“You do me now.”

“What about her?” Luke asks, pointing at you.

“You could ask Mephisto,” you offer, pointing at the mechanical crow that was currently preening his feathers. “What do you say, buddy?”

Mephisto gives an indignant squawk, his little head turning away arrogantly, tending to his feathers with care.

“Nevermind,” you sigh, before looking towards the twins. “Kieran is taller than me, though.”

“Just get on,” Luke whines as he bends his knees, waiting for you to climb up onto his shoulders.

You open your mouth to protest, but there’s a warm hand curling over your hip, pulling you back gently, flush against a firm chest. “Let’s not badger our guest, hm?”

Deep and velvety, you have no doubts as to who this voice belongs to. Your head tilts back to find Sylus smirking down at you, his expression amused.

“Glad you could join us, sweetie. The N109 Zone isn’t usually so… festive.”

“Yeah, well, apparently you were missing me, so I figured I’d drop in,” you tease, a sly smile spreading across your face.

Luke and Kieran snicker until Sylus’ stern expression silences them, his hand squeezing at your hip in warning.

“I never said that.”

“Must’ve been the wind,” you murmur.

“Right,” Sylus deadpans.

You squeak when the red mist wraps around you, lifting you off of the ground, the golden star being thrust into your hand by the same swirling mist. The trio of men beneath you seem amused as the tendrils sweep you higher, closer to the top of the tree, giving you enough height to place the star right where it needs to be.

Sylus’ Evol dissipates as it sets you down onto your feet, the mist sweeping across playfully and making your dress flutter. 

“That’s one way to do it,” Kieran remarks, slinging his arm over Luke’s shoulders before they shoot each other knowing glances and disappear from the living room.

“You came,” Sylus says once the twins have left, his arms crossing over his chest.

“I did,” you reply, peering up at him, your hands clasping behind your back, “too bad you never sent me a personal invitation.” Sylus smiles, and you can’t help but think he looks softer in this light, the ruthless leader of Onychinus replaced by a man who seems less intense and more accommodating than usual.

“I figured Luke and Kieran would’ve gotten through to you,” he muses, his head tilting as he lets his gaze dip over you.

You do the same, taking in his sweater and trousers, trying to quell the inconvenient yet undeniable pull of attraction you feel towards him. 

“Well, they did,” you sigh, managing to drag your gaze back up to meet his, “although I can’t say I appreciated how many texts they sent.”

“The twins tend to get excited,” Sylus replies, reaching out towards you, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

It’s hard to not notice how Sylus’ touch lingers for a moment, his expression looking a little absent-minded as though remembering something from the past. Your brows furrow, unable to decide between asking him or letting his touch linger further. His hand drops away after a few moments before he clears his throat. 

“I made dinner,” he announces.

You laugh, eyes lighting up at the thought of Sylus in the kitchen. You don’t quite believe him though, not when Sylus had enough money to hire at least a dozen personal chefs.

“You’re not serious,” you say, head tilting in amusement.

“I am,” Sylus smirks, his hand landing on your lower back as he guides you forward, towards the hallway, “Luke and Kieran pitched in.”

“Now I feel special,” you muse.

“I suppose you are,” Sylus replies, his expression sobering, “to all of us.”

You’re taken aback by the sincerity in his words, heart giving way to a flutter that you attempt to squash down by pinching yourself, not that it helps. This sense of belonging isn’t what you’d planned on, warmth blooming in your chest as you stare up at Sylus and remember the twins. It’s nice, really, to be valued like this. You can’t help but think you could get used to it. 

Laughter echoes through the hallway as you and Sylus move through it. You startle when Kieran shouts, his voice urgent. 

“Don’t move!”

“Oh, look at that ,” Luke sighs dramatically, feigning innocence as he peers upwards, directing his gaze above you and Sylus.

Bewilderment flashes across your face until you hear Sylus let out a low laugh. You tip your head back, eyes narrowing when you spy the sprig of mistletoe hanging right above where you’re standing. Mephisto adds in something that sounds like a suspiciously happy squawk, and you stare at the crow, realising you’ve been betrayed. 

“Funny,” you say drily, shaking your head. 

Kieran sighs just like Luke, as though he can’t quite believe the situation. The cunning expression in their eyes gives them away. 

Devious, little brats.

“Well, you can’t move now,” Luke says, sounding positively aggrieved. 

“I suppose you’ll just have to kiss, isn’t that right?” Kieran says, looking towards Luke. Luke nods, a self-satisfied smile settling on his face. “Those are the rules.”

“What rules?” you shoot back, glaring at the pair of twins, “there are no rules. I could quite literally just walk away.”

“Christmas tradition !” Luke and Kieran both argue, their faces looking a little crestfallen when they hear the tone of your voice, “you have to kiss!”

You can feel your heart twinge at the earnest tone present in their voices, your eyes flickering up to meet Sylus’. Strangely enough, he doesn’t seem to have any protests, his gaze boring down into yours expectantly. 

“You seriously have nothing to say?” you grouse, head tilting.

“It’s just a kiss, sweetie,” he replies, his arm wrapping around your waist to bring you closer to him. “What’s the matter, hm? Afraid you’ll fall for me?”

“The thought is laughable,” you retort, trying to ignore the soothing squeeze of his hand against your side; the unrelenting warmth that was currently seeping into you and melting your hardened resolve.

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers gripping your chin to tilt your head. “We have time.”

“Move a little to the right!” Kieran calls out, waving his hand.

“What for?” you ask exasperatedly, feeling Sylus step closer, moving you with him.

“For- for the aesthetic !” Luke huffs out.

The twins look a little impatient as you stare at them, your brows furrowing further when you see Kieran whisper something to Luke.

Sylus doesn’t let you dwell longer on the twins’ antics, his calloused hand cupping your cheek to turn you towards him. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetie.”

Your eyes flutter shut as his lips slot over yours, your hand curling around his wrist. Sylus kisses you like he means it, lips soft yet insistent, his thumb smoothing over your cheek. You forget where you are momentarily, knees feeling weak as you fist his sweater pulling him closer, rising up on the tips of your toes to meet his kiss better.

Sylus tilts his head, deepening the kiss. Your stubborn resolve weakens pitifully and you can only think about how perfect this moment is, how good Sylus’ lips feel, how warm his embrace is-

There’s a blinding array of flashes, white sparking out from under your closed eyelids until your eyes snap open, head turning to the side to find both Luke and Kieran with cameras in hand.

“Oh, shit,” Luke begins.

“I thought the flash was off,” Kieran mutters, frowning.

You grit your teeth, taking one step towards them, your eyes narrowing. “Give that to me.”

Luke and Kieran hug their cameras to their chest protectively.

“Christmas memories,” Luke laughs nervously when he sees the determination in your eyes. “Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want to lose those.”

Kieran nods in agreement.

“Boss!” They cry out when the cameras get swept out of their hands by Sylus’ Evol, one of them landing in your hands.

You click through the images, heat blossoming in your stomach when you see how intimate the kiss looks, Sylus’ body pressed firmly against yours, his hand on your cheek. It’s romantic, your somewhat eager response, Sylus’ tight hold, all captured closely through the lens.

“‘s nice,” Sylus murmurs, his chest pressing up against your back as he peers down at the little camera screen.

“ No ,” you shake your head vehemently, “it’s not nice.”

“We look good,” he whispers, his voice dropping lower, lips brushing over the shell of your ear.

You try to ignore the way his hands feel on your hips, his body pressing a little closer into yours. It’s hard not to agree with him the longer you stare at the images though, you do look good, and Luke’s interjection about Christmas memories has you feeling a little forgiving. 

“Fine, keep them,” you sigh, handing the camera back to Luke whilst Sylus does the same to Kieran, “but don’t share them, please.”

Luke and Kieran nod enthusiastically and you snag onto Kieran’s arm before he can leave, your voice dropping to a low whisper.

“Send them to me,” you whisper, “and not a word to anyone.”

Kieran smiles deviously and you roll your eyes, reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

“You’re such a jerk, Kieran.”

“C’mon,” he whines, “you love us.”

You smile up at him, your arm hooking with his. “Maybe just a little.”

He snorts and you let out a laugh, following after Luke and Sylus who had left earlier, talking about something else. Dinner goes smoothly enough and you refuse to tell Luke and Kieran what their presents are, despite their whining.

You feed Mephisto little bites of your food, your finger petting his little feathery head gently every now and then. He preens at the attention, letting out an odd sounding chirp every now and then when you tap his little beak and offer him some more food.

Sylus is seated beside you and it’s becoming increasingly difficult to stop stealing glances at the side of his face. The longer you stare, the more you can feel yourself falling deeper, a pressing crisis unfolding in your mind. 

Fuck . You think you might like him.

Deep rooted feelings of yearning never lead to any good, and yet, you were too impatient not to act on them.You wait patiently, fingers playing with themselves in your lap, for the perfect opportunity. 

It presents itself when Luke and Kieran break out into an insignificant quarrel, their eyes moving elsewhere. Sylus is already looking towards you and you’re leaning forward, cupping the back of his head to bring him closer, lips meeting his in a slow, sweet kiss. 

“What was that for?” Sylus murmurs when you break away, his eyes roving over the flush settling on your cheeks.

“No reason,” you reply nonchalantly, leaning back in your chair.

Sylus scoffs out a laugh, behaving seemingly unaffected. There’s a light flush dusted across his cheeks however, his tongue darting out to taste the remnants of you on his lips.

“This is for no reason too,” he says, grabbing your chin and pulling you closer.

You sigh contentedly when he kisses you, arms wrapping around his neck, your lips working against his a little feverishly as though you can’t get enough.

A cacophony of protests breaks out from the twins when they see you and Sylus kissing at the table.

“Gross! Get a room!”

You roll your eyes, breaking away from Sylus to peer over at them. 

“You were the ones that made us kiss,” you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, we didn’t mean all the time,” Luke corrects.

“Deal with it,” Sylus interrupts, brushing a kiss to your cheek.

You hum happily, Sylus’ hand warm as it encases yours under the table. Luke pouts and Kieran mirrors him, both of them slumping back in their chairs.

You and Sylus get a little more privacy when you step outside, snow dusting across both of you, covering the shrubbery and trees. Mephisto swoops through the air, his mechanical wings flapping as he lands on a tree branch above. The icy chill of the wintery air isn’t so bad, not when Sylus is stepping up behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he holds you close to him.

“It was bound to happen,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek again as you stare up at the night sky, glittering with stars.

“You seem awfully sure of yourself,” you reply, squeezing his forearms.

“Let’s just say… I had an inkling. I know you, sweetie.”

“I don’t understand what you mean sometimes,” you sigh, peering up at him, head resting on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to,” he whispers, dropping a kiss to your temple.

You sway gently in his arms, pressing yourself closer, eyes slipping shut. You’d kill for more moments of peace like this.

It never seems to last for long.

The beginnings of torn wrapping paper begin to fill your ears and you peek through the glass window to find the twins tearing at their presents.

“Oh, these are sick !” Luke announces, beginning to twirl around the pair of knives you had gotten him.

“They have to wait!” you protest, reaching for the door, “Sylus, they have to wait!”

“Let them,” Sylus murmurs, dragging you back into his arms, his chest rumbling with laughter.

You can’t help but let out an exasperated noise, smiling up at him. Sylus lowers his head and you nudge your nose against his gently, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

“What?” he asks quietly when you trace the curve of his cheek, your fingers splaying across his skin.

You kiss him again, revelling in the softness of his eyes when you pull apart. There's a strange warmth in your chest, an unknown pull in the back of your mind as though something familiar were evading you.

You feel like you know him too.

“Merry Christmas, Sylus.”

[moonlightwritingf1]

Worthy of You | LN4

❄️ summary ━━━━━━━ Lando rented a cabin in France for Christmas but couldn’t enjoy it when Y/N suddenly left. Desperate, he flew back to England, where she admitted overhearing his doubts about being worthy of her. Lando confessed his love, and Y/N revealed she felt the same but feared rejection.

❄️ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

❄️ word count ━━━━━━━ 4k

The cabin was nothing short of breathtaking. Nestled in the heart of the French Alps, it seemed straight out of a holiday movie—a sprawling chalet with rustic charm. The exterior was draped in a blanket of snow, the wooden beams of the house warmly contrasting the wintery landscape. Snow-dusted balconies framed sweeping views of the towering peaks outside, their jagged lines stark against the pale sky. Inside, the atmosphere was nothing less than luxurious: vaulted ceilings with exposed timber, a massive stone fireplace crackling with warmth, and furniture covered in soft faux fur throws. Twinkling fairy lights danced around the banisters, casting a soft glow, while the scent of fresh pine from the enormous Christmas tree filled the air, welcoming everyone into its festive embrace.

Lando had rented the cabin for the week leading up to Christmas, hoping to host a cozy retreat for his closest friends. It was supposed to be the perfect escape—a time to unwind, relax, and create new memories. But as he stood in the living room, with the warmth of the fire behind him and an unshakable emptiness in his chest, he felt anything but at ease.

Pacing back and forth, phone in hand, Lando’s jaw was tight with frustration. Y/N had left earlier that day, telling him that she needed to return to London for some "urgent" matter. The words didn’t sit right with him. Something was off, and he couldn’t quite shake the nagging feeling that she was hiding the real reason.

"She just... left," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his messy curls.

"You’re going to wear a hole in the floor," Max commented from the couch, watching Lando with an amused, yet concerned, expression.

Lando didn’t respond, his eyes glued to his phone. He had already called Y/N three times and sent two messages, all without any reply. Max raised an eyebrow, leaning against the kitchen counter with a beer in hand.

"Still no word from her?" Max asked.

Lando shook his head, glancing at the phone in his hand as if it might magically ring with her name. "No. Nothing. She just said she had to leave and that was it."

Max frowned, clearly puzzled. "That doesn’t sound like her."

"Exactly," Lando agreed, frustration lacing his voice. "She was fine this morning—excited, helping decorate the tree and everything. Then out of nowhere, she says she has to go. It’s like she couldn’t wait to leave." He tossed his phone onto the coffee table with a huff, running a hand through his curls again.

Max shrugged, his expression neutral. "Maybe you should wait until she gets back to you instead of spiraling. She’s probably just busy."

But Lando wasn’t convinced. "I can’t wait. Something’s wrong. She looked at me before she left—like there was something she wanted to say but couldn’t. It’s not like her to just leave like that."

Max raised a brow, offering a pointed look. "You sure you didn’t say or do something to upset her?"

Lando scowled, shaking his head. "I didn’t even get a chance to talk to her. One minute everything’s fine, and the next... she’s gone."

Max didn’t press further. Instead, he simply sighed. "Well, maybe give her space. She’ll reach out when she’s ready."

But Lando couldn’t do that. He needed answers now. Without another word, he slipped out of the kitchen and onto the balcony, the chill of the evening air biting at his skin despite his thick coat. Leaning against the railing, he gazed out at the snow-covered mountains, his mind racing with unanswered questions. Y/N had been acting strange lately—distant, quieter than usual. The sudden departure was the final straw. Something didn’t add up.

Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away, Y/N sat alone in her London flat, the flickering lights from her modest Christmas tree casting a soft, warm glow in the otherwise quiet room. Outside, the city streets were slick with rain, the muted sounds of traffic filling the silence. Her fingers curled around a steaming mug of tea, but she barely noticed the warmth.

Her phone sat on the coffee table, buzzing intermittently with Lando’s name lighting up the screen. Each time, her heart clenched, and each time, she couldn’t bring herself to pick it up.

She sipped her tea, trying to quiet the storm in her mind, but the memory of that morning wouldn’t leave her. She had been standing in the hallway of the cabin, a box of ornaments in her arms, when she overheard Lando and Max talking in the living room. The words they spoke felt like a punch to her gut.

"I don’t know what to do, mate," Lando’s voice was low, tense.

"What are you talking about?" Max had asked, clearly confused.

"It’s Y/N," Lando admitted, and hearing her name made Y/N freeze, her breath catching in her throat.

"What about her?"

Lando sighed deeply, and Y/N could almost hear the weight of his thoughts. "I care about her more than I should. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. But I can’t tell her. She’d probably just laugh in my face or—worse—pity me."

Y/N’s heart twisted painfully in her chest.

"You really think she’d react like that?" Max asked, his voice skeptical.

‘’Wouldn’t you?" Lando responded bitterly. "She's amazing, Max. She deserves someone who's not... me. Someone who doesn’t come with all the problems of my life. I don’t know... it’s just complicated.’’

Y/N couldn’t bear it anymore. Hearing Lando doubt himself, and by extension, their connection, had hurt her more than she could explain. She dropped the box of ornaments where it stood and rushed to her room to pack her things, not bothering to tell anyone why she was leaving.

Now, in the solitude of her flat, Y/N replayed his words over and over, trying to make sense of her own emotions. Did she love him? She realized that the answer had been in her heart for months, but she’d been too afraid to face it.

Her phone buzzed again, pulling her from her thoughts. Lando’s name flashed across the screen once more. This time, her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating before she tapped it.

She read his message: Please, Y/N. Just let me know you’re okay.

Her heart ached as the words weighed heavily on her. She typed a reply but paused, her fingers trembling. After a deep breath, she hit send:

Y/N: I’m fine. I just needed some time to think.

On the other end, Lando’s phone buzzed once more, and he lunged for it, his heart leaping when he saw her name appear.

"She responded," he said quietly to Max, who gave him an encouraging nod.

Lando opened the message and read it quickly, his brow furrowing with confusion. "She’s fine?" he muttered, feeling unconvinced by her words.

Max leaned over to glance at the screen. "Sounds like she just needs some space."

But Lando wasn’t satisfied. He typed back immediately: Think about what? Did I do something to upset you? Please, Y/N, talk to me.

Back in London, Y/N stared at his message, her chest tightening. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she wasn’t ready to confront her feelings—his or hers. She needed more time.

Lando opened his mouth to argue, but then stopped short. He had spent months hiding his feelings for Y/N, terrified of scaring her off, of ruining the connection they shared. But now, her sudden departure was making him question everything.

"Do you think she knows?" he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Max frowned. "Knows what?"

"How I feel about her," Lando admitted, his gaze shifting away as if he were ashamed.

Max studied him for a moment before shrugging. "If she does, she hasn’t said anything to me. But maybe that’s the problem—you’ve been waiting for her to figure it out instead of telling her."

Lando’s jaw tightened at the suggestion. "And if I tell her and she doesn’t feel the same?"

"Then at least you’ll know," Max said simply. "But honestly, I think you’re underestimating her."

The next day, Lando couldn’t take it anymore. The cabin, with all its festive decorations and roaring fire, felt too big and too empty without Y/N. With no more time to waste, he grabbed his coat and car keys.

"Where are you going?" Max asked, looking up from his phone.

"London," Lando replied with quiet determination.

It was late afternoon by the time Lando arrived at Y/N’s flat. The crisp winter air stung his skin as he knocked on her door, nervous energy bubbling inside him.

The door opened, and there she was—her expression a mix of surprise and apprehension.

"Lando," she said softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

"You didn’t answer my calls," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "I needed to see you. I needed to know why you left."

She stepped aside, allowing him to enter. The warmth of her flat enveloped him, the scent of cinnamon and pine filling the air. They stood in the living room, the silence between them thick with unspoken words.

"Y/N, talk to me," Lando urged. "Did I do something? Did I say something?"

Her eyes filled with tears, and her voice trembled as she finally spoke. "I heard you, Lando. At the cabin, talking to Max."

His heart sank. "You... heard me?"

She nodded, her voice breaking. "You said you cared about me but couldn’t tell me because you thought I wouldn’t feel the same. That it was too complicated."

Lando closed his eyes in anguish. "Y/N, I didn’t mean for you to hear that."

"But you meant it," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, his expression softening as he reached for her hands. "Of course I meant it. I care about you more than you know. But I didn’t say anything because I thought you’d pity me—or worse, push me away."

Y/N’s tears spilled over, and she wiped them away quickly. "Lando, I could never pity you. And I would never push you away."

His brows furrowed, searching her eyes for understanding. "Then why did you leave?"

"Because I didn’t know how to handle it," she admitted, her voice raw with emotion. "Hearing you doubt yourself—it scared me."

Lando gently took her hands in his, looking deeply into her eyes. "I’ve been scared, too. Scared of losing you, of ruining what we have. But I can’t keep hiding how I feel."

Her breath caught in her throat as his words sank in.

"I love you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve loved you since the moment we met. And if you don’t feel the same, I’ll understand. But I couldn’t let you leave without telling you."

Tears streamed down her face as she looked up at him, her heart pounding. "I do feel the same," she whispered. "I’ve been in love with you, too. I just didn’t know how to say it."

A smile spread across his face as relief and joy flooded his chest. Without another word, he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. "You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that."

She smiled through her tears, resting her forehead against his. "I’m sorry for running. I should’ve just talked to you."

Lando held Y/N close, his heart racing as if it were a race day. For months, he’d rehearsed this moment in his mind, but nothing could have prepared him for the overwhelming relief and joy that came with hearing her say she loved him too.

"You don’t have to apologize," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I should’ve told you how I felt sooner. I was just too much of a coward to risk losing you."

Y/N pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his with a soft vulnerability. "You’re not a coward, Lando. You’ve been so patient with me, and I’m sorry if I ever made you think I didn’t care."

"You didn’t," he assured her. "I just... I got in my own head. I do that sometimes."

She smiled gently, the tension finally starting to ease. "We’re both pretty good at overthinking, huh?"

"Clearly," he replied with a chuckle, his thumb brushing against the back of her hand. "But maybe we can work on that together?"

Y/N nodded, a blush creeping onto her cheeks. "I’d like that."

The air between them shifted again, quieter now, but no less intense. Lando’s gaze flickered to her lips, and for a moment, he hesitated.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her response was immediate—a shy but confident nod as she leaned in. Their lips met, soft and tentative at first, but quickly deepened as weeks of unspoken feelings spilled into the kiss. Lando’s hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, while Y/N’s fingers tangled in his curls.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting together.

"That was worth the wait," Lando said, his voice tinged with humor and awe.

Y/N laughed softly, her cheeks still flushed. "Yeah, it was."

Lando glanced around her cozy flat, the Christmas lights casting a warm glow over everything. "As much as I love this place, it feels like we’re missing out on our cabin Christmas."

Y/N frowned slightly, guilt creeping back in. "I’m sorry for leaving. I ruined the trip for everyone."

"Hey," he said firmly, cupping her face with both hands. "Don’t do that. No one blames you, least of all me. Besides," he added with a teasing smirk, "I rented that ridiculously fancy cabin for selfish reasons."

Her brows furrowed. "Selfish reasons?"

"Yeah," he admitted, leaning in closer. "I was hoping I’d get some time alone with you."

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, and then she laughed, a sound that sent warmth flooding through him. "Well, I guess you got what you wanted in the end."

"Not quite everything," he said, his tone turning serious. "But I’m working on it."

By the following evening, they were back at the cabin. Y/N had been reluctant at first, but Lando insisted, saying he wanted to finish what they’d started.

As the car pulled up to the chalet, Y/N couldn’t help but gasp. Seeing it again, with its snow-covered roof and twinkling lights against the backdrop of the Alps, it felt like stepping into a postcard.

"It’s beautiful," she said softly.

Lando grinned as he grabbed their bags. "Wait until you see it at night."

Inside, the warmth of the fireplace welcomed them, and Y/N felt a wave of nostalgia for the short time she’d spent there.

"I didn’t unpack everything after you left," Lando admitted as he set her bag by the stairs. "Figured you’d be back."

Y/N turned to him, her heart aching at how much faith he’d had in her. "Thank you for not giving up on me."

"Never," he said simply, his eyes locking with hers.

They spent the evening decorating the tree, finishing what they’d started days ago. Lando playfully scolded Y/N for her questionable ornament placement, while she retaliated by draping tinsel over his head.

When the tree was finally done, they sat on the plush rug in front of the fire, a bottle of wine between them.

"This feels nice," Y/N said, her voice soft.

Lando leaned back on his hands, watching her intently. "It feels perfect."

Y/N glanced at him, her cheeks heating under his gaze. "You’re staring again."

"Can’t help it," he said with a small shrug. "You’re kind of my favorite thing to look at."

Her laughter was quiet but genuine. "You’re such a flirt."

"Only with you," he admitted, his tone earnest.

They fell into a comfortable silence, the crackling of the fire filling the space. Y/N sipped her wine, her mind wandering back to the moment she overheard him at the cabin.

"Lando?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"When you said it was complicated... What did you mean?"

He exhaled deeply, setting his glass down. "I meant that my life is messy. The travel, the attention, the pressure—it’s not easy, and I didn’t want to drag you into all of that if you weren’t ready. But I realized something after you left."

"What?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"That none of it matters if I don’t have you," he said, his eyes shining with sincerity. "You make everything better, Y/N. And I’m done letting fear get in the way of that."

Her chest tightened, and she reached out to take his hand. "I don’t care about the mess, Lando. I just want you."

His smile was soft but filled with relief. "You’ve got me, then."

And as the fire burned low and the snow fell gently outside, they sat together, finally at peace. For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

As the evening drew on, the crackling warmth from the fire grew more comforting, and the glow of the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree made the cabin feel like a perfect little world of their own. Lando and Y/N had fallen into a comfortable silence, the soft clink of their wine glasses and the occasional laugh over a shared memory keeping the air light.

Y/N leaned back against the soft rug, feeling the warmth of the fire seeping into her body, and caught herself glancing over at Lando. His attention was on the flames, but there was something different in his expression tonight—a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before. The weight of everything between them—the distance, the confusion, the undeniable connection—had been lifted, and what remained was something new. Something hopeful.

"Lando," she began, her voice just above a whisper, tentative, yet full of curiosity.

He turned toward her, his eyes still soft but intense, always making her heart beat a little faster. "Yeah?"

Y/N swallowed, the words feeling heavy on her tongue, unsure of how to articulate the depth of her thoughts. "I’ve been thinking about everything—the way things unfolded, the way I left, and how much I was running from us… from what was right in front of me."

Lando’s gaze softened even more, and he scooted closer to her, his hand brushing against hers before he stopped, as if asking for permission. She placed her hand in his, lacing their fingers together, the simple touch sending a jolt of warmth through her chest.

"You’re not the only one who was running," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "I think I’ve been too scared of what we could be. Of messing it up. But now… with you here, everything feels right. And I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t."

Her heart fluttered at his words. "I was scared, too," she admitted softly, gazing into his eyes. "Scared that maybe I was just a distraction for you. That maybe I was too much for you, or that you wouldn’t feel the same. But I don’t want to feel like that anymore."

He smiled, and for the first time in a long time, it was a smile that reached his eyes—gentle, warm, full of promise. "I feel everything for you, Y/N. I just didn’t know how to show it. How to tell you, especially when I thought you might not feel the same."

Y/N looked down at their intertwined hands, feeling a tightness in her chest at the realization of just how much they had both been holding back. "I’m sorry for leaving like I did," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I shouldn’t have run away. I just… I was so overwhelmed."

Lando lifted her chin gently with his fingers, his touch tender as he urged her to meet his gaze. "You don’t need to apologize," he said softly. "What matters now is that we’re here. Together. And we don’t have to hide from what we feel anymore."

For a long moment, they just stared at each other, the air thick with the weight of everything they hadn’t said before. There was something sacred about this moment, as though time had slowed, giving them space to let everything they had kept buried come to the surface.

And then, without warning, Y/N felt the rush of emotions she had been holding back for so long. She leaned in slowly, her eyes never leaving his, as if testing the waters, seeing if he would pull away. But he didn’t. Instead, he met her halfway, their lips brushing in a tentative kiss that was soft but filled with an intensity neither of them had expected. It was the kind of kiss that spoke of years of friendship, years of longing, of waiting for the right moment.

But when their lips finally met, it felt like the world had shifted. It wasn’t just about a kiss. It was about all the unspoken words, all the time they had spent pretending they didn’t care, when all along, they had been waiting for this very moment. The kiss deepened, slow and desperate, as though they were both trying to make up for lost time, to erase the doubt and the distance they had allowed to grow between them.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, and neither of them spoke for a while. The only sound was the soft crackle of the fire and the distant howling of the wind outside.

"Everything feels different now," Y/N whispered, her voice full of wonder.

Lando’s lips quirked up in a gentle smile. "Different in a good way?"

She nodded, her fingers tracing the lines of his palm. "In a way that makes everything else feel unimportant. Like nothing else matters but us."

"Yeah," he agreed, the weight of the words settling in. "I’ve spent so much time thinking about the future, about racing, about everything else. But in this moment, with you… I know what really matters. It’s you."

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest, her heart swelling with affection. "I’ve been thinking the same thing," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I was scared. But now that we’re here, I’m not afraid anymore."

Lando tilted his head, studying her face with an intensity that sent a rush of heat through her. "So, no more running?"

She shook her head, her smile gentle but full of certainty. "No more running."

Lando leaned in again, his lips capturing hers in another kiss—this one slow, full of everything they had been holding back. There was a tenderness in it, a promise that they would take this slow, that they would learn to navigate whatever was to come together. But more than that, it was a kiss filled with the knowledge that they were finally on the same page, finally together in a way they had always been meant to be.

As they broke apart, Lando reached for the bottle of wine and poured them both another glass, the soft clink of the glasses a gentle reminder that they had come a long way.

Y/N glanced out the window at the snowflakes gently falling from the sky, each one unique and fleeting, just like the moment they were sharing. "It’s beautiful out there," she said softly.

Lando turned to look as well, and for a moment, they were silent again, watching the world outside. But then he turned back to her, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Not as beautiful as you, though," he said with a grin.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. "You’re such a flirt."

"Only with you," he replied, his voice low and teasing. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. "And I always will be."

Her heart raced at his words, her body feeling alive with the anticipation of everything that was unfolding between them. She leaned into him again, her lips brushing his, more sure of herself now than she had ever been.

And for the first time in a long time, she allowed herself to believe in the possibility of everything—the future, the love they had shared, and the love that was still waiting to be discovered between them.

[teeramoonlover]

Knock, Knock

Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader x Stu Macher

(NSFW)

This is my first time writing oneshot, let alone smut. English is not my first language so bear with me.

Warning: Reader is a Virgin, Cussing, alot of cursing, knife play, mask kink, bondage, fingering, cunnilingus, deep throat, anal, threesome, and double penetration.

*Bold - Voice modulator, Italic - inner voice

“Hello?”

“Hello.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't recognize this deep voice talking to you.

“Who’s this?” Instead of hanging up, your gut feeling tells you to continue the conversation with this stranger. Maybe you’ll get something out of it.

“You don’t need to know about me. I just want to talk to you.”

“Now why should I do that? Stranger danger. Didn’t your parents teach you that?” You saunter around the kitchen counter and stare at the sets of kitchen knives. You pull out a cleaver and wait for them to reply.

The stranger chuckled, amused with your response.

“Just want to call you so I get to know you better.”

You poked your tongue inside your cheek. You put the knife back in its place, humming to yourself.

“Alright, Mr Stranger. You got my attention and I'm bored as hell. Shoot your million dollar question.” You leaned your back on the counter, hand in pocket while another's still holding the phone.

“Tell me, do you like scary movies?” 

“Uhh, yeah.”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Does The Addams Family count? 1991 is the best.” You shrugged, checking your nails. The voice grumbled, annoyed with your movie choice.

“That’s not even a scary movie. And it’s a kid show.”

“Excuse me, that movie is my fave and you don’t get to judge my beloved Morticia Addams just because I watch a ‘kid show’. Besides, that movie is still considered horror okay. Take examples like Tim Burton’s production. Even though most of his movies are suitable for children, he still wants to insert horror elements so they could find comfort and won’t make them feel scared anymore. You should try Nightmare before Christmas or maybe Edward Scissorhand for starters.” you jested.  

“Not my kind of style. Edward is weird as fuck.”

“Oh now you’re crossing the line Mr. Nobody. Fun fact for you, Johnny Deep with or without heavy makeup is hot as fuck. Hell, if there’s any Johnny copycat out there, I’ll ride his dick straight away.” you mused. The audacity of this guy.

The stranger hummed.

Is it creepy that I can see him smiling through the phone?

“You should be careful what you wish for. It might come true.”

“Then, Amen for that. I ain’t regret what I said so if you have a problem with it, you jerked your tiny dick somewhere else.” 

He chuckled darkly.

“So, do you have a boyfriend?”

"What if I have one? Or maybe a girlfriend? What ya gonna do about it?” You rolled your eyes.

The phone went dead silent until a deep growl came out on the line. His voice changed to menacing.

“You don’t have a boyfriend. You’re not even lesbian.”

“Slow down tiger. I can change my preference wherever I want. Anyway, congratulations! You’re successful become from a total stranger to a fucking creep. Now no more games with me. What do you want?” You huffed, getting annoyed and a little creep out with his manic voice.

“Oh baby, you think this is a game? I’ll play a real game for ya. Knock, Knock.”

You yelped when you heard someone banging on your front door.

Shit. Wrong move.

You pull out a metal bat under the counter like you knew this would gonna happen and check around, especially every closed door inside the house. You already watched too many horror movies with Randy that you even know where the killer always comes out from.

“I ask you want more time. What the hell do you want from me?”

“You wanna know, you have to play the game with me.”

You jumped when you heard another banging. And this time, at your backyard.

“Knock. Knock.”

You gulped and took a glimpse at your back. As you saw nobody's there, you pressed your back on the wall and focused on the front door.

“Who’s there?”

You make sure all the doors and windows are already locked as your father went out training with his buddies. He says he will be coming home late.  

Double. Shit.

“Johnny.” 

You innerly scoffed. Oh he likes this game too much. 

“Johnny where?”

“Clever girl. Guess.”

You rushed to the front door and took a look outside from the window. No one was there. You blurted out the answer.

“The backyard.”

“Wrong.”

You shrieked as the sound of a crash came out from the living room. You ran there to see a big gape hole at your now shattered window. You scanned the whole room. Only one wooden chair and shattered glass all over the floor. 

He couldn’t make it inside that fast. You raised the phone as you heard his voice.

“I give you a second chance. Knock, knock.”

“Oh fuck you with your knock knock shit game! What do you want from me?!”

“I want you…to ride me.”

You inhaled sharply at his answer as you turned around with a bat raised in front of you. 

“You’re messing with the wrong person here.” You spitted. He chuckled mockingly, amazed that you still have a bit of spite even though you know you're about to lose the game.

“You should be asking where I am, (Y/N).” He enunciated your name deeply.

Sweat trickle down your temple as you took a step back one at the time. This stranger knowing your name just shot up your nerve haywire.

“Where the fuck are you shithead.” 

“Behind you.”

You turned around and hit the phone right to the side of his face.

His Ghostface leather mask to be exact. 

He covered his head from the hit with his gloved hand and you took that opportunity to bash his head with your metal bat. He doubles in pain as you hit his back with more force and knocks his feet to the floor. He lay on his back, gripping his back painfully as you stepped on his body.

“Now let’s see who's behind the mask.”

Before you could bend down to grab his mask, the air got knocked out from you as someone rammed from your side. Your head got slam on the floor hard followed by a body that stumbled right above you. 

There’s two of them?!

You tried to pry him off from you but it was no use. You could see from your blurred vision that two masked men were now crowded right in front of you. 

The first guy above your head took both of your hands and held them tight, giving out a painful moan from you, while the other one sat on top of your low waist between his thighs, securing your legs from moving.

You tried to trash your body only to feel a sharp knife under your throat. You looked up to see the second guy shaking his head. 

A warning.

“Looks like you lost the game.” Second ghostface seems satisfied seeing you beneath him. The knife in his hand trailed lower and lower to your neck. You could feel a prick of pain as the knife cut deep at your collarbone.

“Losers need to pay the price.” The first ghostface giggled, bringing out a rope from his black robe and tied your hand above your head.

“Two against one? Really fair, does it?” You gritted your teeth. Even though you’re already at their mercy, your mouth still runs like a goddamn sailor.

“Didn’t know this should be a fair game.” Second ghostface shrugged, still lingering his knife around your neck area. 

“So what? You gonna kill me?” 

“Careful, you shouldn’t challenge a killer with a knife. Now you said it, that does sound tempting.” The killer dragged down his knife to your waist. The cold of his blade sent chills down your spine as it put pressure on your stomach, emphasizing his words.

You gulped as you eyed the two ghostface. The one that sat on top of you seems like a person you don’t want to mess with. The way his voice held authority, meaning if he wants to kill you, he’ll make sure you’re good as dead. Even though he’s wearing a mask, you could feel his hot gaze on your throat to your collarbone that already bleed out from the small cut. His gloved hand reached out, smearing your oozing blood with his thumb. He loves it, you can tell.    

Another one above your head, however he's a different kind of persona. He seems to like goofing around and having fun stabbing his victim. More sadistic, more of an unhinged bastard. If he takes his mask off, you bet he'll be that funny, easy going guy. His head tilted to the side, staring at your body in awe. Like you'll become his biggest meal tonight.

"But since you beat my friend here, I'll give you a chance. If you want to live, you need to do something for me." He hinted at the end of his sentence. The first Ghostface started to laugh hysterically. 

Somehow you know what he meant, knowing what they're gonna do to you.

"What do you mean?" You shuddered.

In a split second, he pulled your body and switched position, making you on top of him. You could feel the bulge between your legs as his hands gripped your waist.

"You know what I meant."

Your whole body shivered in fear and excitement. You don’t know why your body react that way. Fear, yes but also excites you?

You already soaked in your panties, though it was the adrenaline of the chase.

You subtly rubbed yourself on his groin. He sighed in content as you kept rubbing his hard on. 

“That’s it, babe.” His breath ragged as both his hands moved your hips and pressed deeper to his crotch. His hips thrust to your core, making you let out a soft moan. 

You feel someone's hand held the back of your head, turning you to meet the first Ghostface. His gloves were already gone from both hands, as he’s working on to half-done his zipper jeans.

“Open your mouth, kitten." He slipped his thumb, pressing your lips to open. He inserted two fingers in and out as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. They were so long that you gagged as it reached at the back of your throat. When he pulled out his fingers, a string of saliva coated them.

“I’ve never done this before.” Your face was red, embarrassing to admit that you never had sex before.

“We know you’re a virgin.” He whispered. His thumb stroking your lower lip, his mask titled to the side.

“Don't worry about that. We promise to make you feel good, m'okay?" The Ghostface under you sat up, his hand tugged teasingly at your waistband while the other one caressed your cheek. His deep voice is surprisingly tender, luring you in like a moth to his flame.

Without thinking, you nodded at his words.

Beneath those masks, their smirk grew wider, finally getting you hooked with them. 

"Lift your hips for me, baby." 

He tore his gloves from his hands and guided your hips upward. As you stand on your knees, he tugged down your shorts and panties in one go. You gasped at how rough, desperate he wanted to strip you naked. 

He took out his knife and started to rip them in half. You shiver from the cold as your clothes discard aside.

A pair of hands from behind reach out to your breast and fondle them. You whimpered as he pulled and squeezed your nipples. Another hand slipped to your wet cunt, thumb circling your clit.

"Gosh, your pussy is so wet for us. We're just getting started." He mused. Slowly, he inserted two fingers inside you, thumb still rubbing your clit. You shuddered, your back laid on someone's chest, who still continued grasping your breast.

"Look at you, seeking pleasure from two psychotic serial killers. Ain't ya a dirty little slut." The one from behind cackled in manic, enjoying seeing you completely vulnerable for him.

You subconsciously ride your hips with his fingers inside you, reaching your high. Your tied arms pressed in front of his chest as his friend from behind starts to dry hump your ass. You could imagine how big their dicks are, one pressing from the back while the other one underneath your pussy, still finger fuck you.

As if they knew you're about to come, he pulled out his fingers. You let out a small whine, feeling the loss of your pussy to be filled. He dip his finger beneath his mask, groaning in pleasure as he tasted your juices with a mix of blood.

Your hair got clutched from behind and dived you to his tent. When he pulled down his boxer, you were awestruck at how thick and veiny his hard rod is. He tapped his dick on your mouth, precum smeared at your lower lips.

"Like what you see?" He chuckled, seeing you looking at his cock like that got him more turned on. 

You flustered, eyeing the two black holes resemble eyes staring at you, silently to gain his permission. He nodded, pushing his tip further into your lips.

You subtly open your mouth, licking his precum and heard his deep groan in return. This made you sucked and licked his tip and moved your hand up and down his length.

He tilted his head back. Though you couldn't see with his mask on, a sense of pride grew in you, pleased to see him feel that way.

"You're sure this is your first time? Fuck, this feels amazing." He bucked his hips in your mouth.

"Open your mouth wide open, tongue down. I'm a deep throat till you swallow all of my cum." You do as he said. He thrust his dick deep in your throat, making you gagged but you held it in. 

He fucked your mouth relentless, both his hands keeping you in place. Tears pooling down your face as saliva spilling from your mouth until your nose touches his pelvis. You tapped his thigh, coughing up when he pulled out his dick from your swollen lips.

You're too focused on the man in front of you, that your ass was raised in the air and gasped as you felt a tongue licking at your entrance.

"Damn I can eat this pussy all day." He growled from behind, licking and biting your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his tongue does wonders to you. 

You gagged as he pounds in and out of your mouth, while from behind a tongue lick deep in your entrance. His nose teasing your clit, earning you a moan vibrating through the dick in your mouth. Both of them release low moans, reaching their high.

You tap his thigh, pull you away from his dick as you feel a knot in your stomach.

"I-I some-something d-down there." You cried out, feel his friend's wet tongue thrust in and out of your cunt. You gasped from sensation, as he's licked your rim hole.

"Then cum all over his mouth, princess. Let him taste every drop." He strokes his dick as you stick your tongue out to his tip. You feel your release as the man behind lapping your juices clean.

"God, she tastes so good. I wanna fuck her wet cunt till she's scream."

The killer in front of you didn't say a word, staring at his friend 

"You can't have her. She beat you up, remember?"

"The fuck that's supposed to mean? We won, she lost."

"Correction, you get beat to a pulp and I'm the one stopping it. So, I get the prize and you just, I don't know. Enjoy the show?"

"I'm already hard and you’re telling me just to watch you all over her? Hell no man!" 

They way they're talking about you like you aren't there bothers you, but at the same time kind of hot.

You could tell his friend was frustrated, agitated while him with you on his lap stroking his tip to your folds. You whimpered as he nudged his face mask closer to your neck. You could feel his wet tongue licking and sucking at the cut he gave you. 

Deep down you know your choice terrifies you but you don't want his friend left behind.

"There's two holes for a reason, ya know." You mumbled low, but somehow both killers caught on to what you said. They both were stunned. Not long after, the one you sit on his lap snickered darkly.

"You're one dirty little virgin. Didn't know you're into that." He gripped your hips closer to his already hard crotch. You blushed at his indication.

Truth is, you stumbled upon a porn magazine from Stu's wardrobe, asking you for his sweatpants as he was in the bathroom. Curiosity kills you when you open the magazine, the page showed a blond woman penetrated by two men, dick in her cunt while another in her ass.

The image haunted you yet deep down you want to know how it feels like, to get banged by two. As you stare at her lustful face, you jump when you hear Billy's voice from outside Stu's room. So, you threw away the magazine and hastily grabbed his shorts. When Billy enters the room, he stares at you intensely. He always does every time you're in his sight. He raised an eyebrow as you gave the shorts, muttered, "Give it to Stu, he wants it." and you made a mad dash out of his room.

You know for the fact that the chances you're getting DP is slim to none. But seeing as of now, your fuzzy brain was like why not.

"You're an angel, you know that? That's why you're perfect for us." The frustrated Ghostface was now like he's in cloud nine when you told him that, hugging you from behind.

"You're meant for us, (Y/N). Remember that." The one with you on his lap was now laying down on the floor, bringing you with him so that your pussy was placed right on his outstretched cock. As his tip penetrated your entrance, you whimpered as the slight discomfort got you. As your tied arms gripped the black cloth of his front, his hand teasing your clit, trying to distract you from the pain.

As he is completely inside you, the discomfort was replaced slowly with pleasure, fullness from his thick length. His sighed in relief, loving his dick snug deep in your pussy like a vice.

"Fuck you're so tight, baby." He rasped as he helped adjust his length inside you. When he felt you ready, he slowly thrust in and out of you, making you moan.

"You like that? You like riding this cock?" His slow thrust became erratic as he rammed your throbbing cunt. Your mouth gaped open, couldn't reform words when he hit you at the right spot. 

"Y-yes, right there. Shit! You're so big." You uttered breathlessly, bouncing his dick as he thrust deeper in you. 

As you ride him, you feel another one trying to penetrate your asshole. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, stopping you as he continued to push in, hissing at your shoulder.

"S-shit! My cock gonna cut in half if you keep squeezing me like that." He buried his face on your neck as he roughly thrust you in one go, making you scream.

"M'sorry babe. Can't help it."

You try to glare at his face, or more precisely his mask. You could imagine his stupid grin, staring at you adoringly. 

This is too much. For you, a virgin and never been fuck let alone anal, this is a lot to take in. You could feel their dicks stretched inside every hole of you down there. You try adjusting to this new stimulation. They’re both moving in sync, in and out of you, feeling both of their dicks rubbing your wall one at the time. It makes you see stars as they fasten their phase.

Skin slapping filled the room, with your moan and their groan in a mix.

“Fuck fuck fuck I’mma cum!” You feel his hand gripping your hips as his thrust turns sloppy. Your body started to shake as the one beneath encircled his arms around you, keeping you close to his chest as he slammed you hard on your g-spot. 

You nearly scream from pleasure as orgasm washed over you, followed by the one behind, pumping his seed into your throbbing asshole. Your pussy tightens is all it needs from the one beneath you to paint his cum on your walls. 

He gave his one hard, second thrust at your asshole then pulled out his softened cock. The way he stared at his cum spilling from your ass stirred something inside him.

His fingers subconsciously slipped his overflow cum inside your hole. For some reason, he doesn’t want a single drop of his seed leaking out of you.

You take a deep inhale as your eyes flutter close, trying to calm from your euphoric state. You could hear his heartbeat thumping as your head laid on his chest, with him too catching his breath.

The only thing you remember is feeling a peck on your forehead and a kiss from your nape, with a deep raspy voice you manage to hear before exhaustion overtook your body.

“That’s my good girl.”

After you pass out…

“Man, that’s the best thing happen in my life!” Stu sighed, satisfied as he pulled off his Ghostface mask and slipped in his now soft dick in his pants. He looked over at his friend who was still lying on the ground with their favorite girl on top of him.

“You're lucky I came up with this plan. Knew it our girl had same fantasies like us.” He grinned, smiling like an idiot, while Billy too slowly took off the mask.

“If you didn’t pull out that porn magazine, she wouldn’t even think about it, genius.” He murmured as he stroked your arm. He sighed in relief with his eyes closed, hearing your soft snores calmed him.

Maybe they could pay you another visit, and it will be on nice bed this time.

And sure as hell he'll make sure of that.

[pandapetals]

Last Christmas

Last Christmas, Logan wanted to confess how he felt about you but after a misunderstanding he decides against it. Logan kept his distance all year until you confront him this Christmas about it.

logan howlett x fem!reader - angst, fluff, misunderstandings, inspired by the song last christmas by wham!, logan brooding and self-loathing, i imagined X2 logan, confessions, no y/n used, no reader description, not proofread-i got lazy

divider credit: @issyh3ll

Logan had never cared for Christmas. The twinkling lights, the forced smiles, the cheesy carols that spilled out of storefronts—it all felt hollow, a sugar-coated excuse for people to act like the world wasn’t a mess the other 364 days of the year. He used to spend the holidays as far from the festivities as possible, holed up in a dive bar or lost in the woods where no one would try to drag him into their forced cheer.

But this year was different. This year, he had you.

It had crept up on him slowly over the past twelve months—how you’d wormed your way into his guarded heart with your laugh, your quiet kindness, and the way you never treated him like some gruff, damaged thing that needed fixing. Though Logan didn’t have the words to say what you meant to him, the idea of giving you a gift, something that spoke for him, had latched onto his brain and wouldn’t let go.

So he’d spent the better part of the year waiting for any hint of what you liked. He’d browsed through shops he would’ve never set foot in otherwise, scowling at gaudy jewelry and glossy trinkets that all felt... wrong. Too shallow. Too shiny. Too unlike you.

Then one night, it hit him—the answer had been around his neck all along. His dog tags.

To anyone else, they were just scraps of metal, scratched and worn from decades of hard living. But to him, they were the closest thing to permanence he’d ever had. They’d seen wars, far-flung corners of the earth, and darker days than he cared to count. They were a reminder of who he was. And giving them to you… it felt like handing over a piece of himself, the one part of him he thought might mean something.

So he’d wrapped them—if stuffing them into a small velvet box he’d gotten from the mall could count as wrapping—and now he was on his way to find you. His boots crunched against the thin layer of frost coating the school’s courtyard, his breath puffing out in small clouds in the biting December air. He felt… nervous. A rare, foreign sensation crawled beneath his skin and made his fingers itch to light a cigar, though he couldn’t exactly do that while carrying your gift.

When he reached the door to the greenhouse, he paused. You were inside, standing by a table of blooming poinsettias, talking with Ororo. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should interrupt, but the sound of your voice drew him closer. It always did.

“I don’t know what to do,” you said, your voice carrying a nervous laugh. Logan felt his chest tighten.

“You could just tell him,” Ororo replied gently, her words muffled slightly by the plants and the glass.

Logan frowned, leaning a fraction closer.

You sighed. “I don’t want to make it awkward. What if I’ve read it all wrong? What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

The air seemed to grow colder. Feel the same way? His heart dropped like a stone, though he didn’t know why. Maybe it was the uncertainty in your voice. Maybe it was the way Ororo hummed like she was weighing her response, which meant she knew exactly who you were talking about.

“He might surprise you,” Ororo said after a moment.

You gave a short laugh. “I doubt that. I mean, Logan? Come on. He’s nice to me, but it’s not like that. He’s probably just… protective or something. You know how he is.”

Logan felt like the frost had seeped straight into his chest. He’d been frozen to the spot before, but now his body felt like stone. Solid and immovable.

Protective.

You didn’t see him that way. Of course, you didn’t. Why would you? He was rough around the edges and scarred inside and out. A decent friend at best. And while he thought he’d been so damn clever choosing the perfect time and way to tell you how he felt, you’d never even considered it.

His hand closed around the small velvet box in his pocket, his knuckles tightening until the corners of the box dug into his palm. What a stupid idea this had been. A soft scoff escaped him—quiet enough that you wouldn’t hear it, but loud enough to carry all the bitterness crawling up his throat.

Logan turned on his heel and walked away, the sound of your laughter ringing out behind him, the gift burning a hole in his pocket.

Later that evening, Logan lingered near the base of the staircase, his shoulders hunched as he leaned against the railing. The faint smell of pine and cinnamon filled the air, mixing with the warm crackle of the fire in the common room. The mansion was alive with holiday cheer—laughter, the rustle of wrapping paper, and the occasional clink of mugs filled with cocoa or spiked eggnog.

Logan hated it.

Well, he was bitter and it sure didn’t help his mood. He’d spent the better part of the night trying to keep his distance from you, but somehow, you always found him. Like a moth to flame—or maybe it was the other way around, because even now, he couldn’t help watching you from across the room, your laugh lighting up the corners of the mansion like the damn Christmas tree twinkling in the main hall.

He let out a soft, bitter snort under his breath and shook his head. You were doing it again—making his heartache when he should’ve been smart enough to steer clear.

The sound of your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Are you just going to stand by the stairs the whole time?” you asked, amusement curling the edges of your words. You approached him with a bounce in your step, your hands tucked behind your back.

Logan straightened, crossing his arms over his chest like he was trying to make himself smaller. “What else am I supposed to do?”

You tilted your head, giving him a look that was equal parts teasing and concerned. “You could try… mingling? It’s Christmas, Logan. Have a drink, crack a joke, maybe smile once or twice. You know, festive stuff.”

“Festive stuff.” He huffed out a laugh and looked away, the corners of his mouth twitching despite himself. “Ain’t really my thing.”

Your lips pursed, but the soft smile beneath it remained. “Yeah, I figured. Still, you’ve been sulking all night. What’s up with you?”

Logan stiffened, his jaw tightening. “Nothing,” he muttered, a little too quickly. “Just not in the mood for all this holly-jolly crap.”

You didn’t look convinced, but you didn’t press him either. Instead, you gave a small shrug and leaned against the railing beside him, so close your shoulder brushed his arm. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to keep you company then. If you’re gonna be a grump, you might as well have someone to grump with.”

Logan side-eyed you, his lips twitching again despite the weight on his chest. “You’re too cheerful for that.”

“Cheerful’s good for you,” you quipped, nudging his arm gently. “Balances you out.”

Logan didn’t reply, but the smallest of smirks ghosted across his face, and you caught it before he could hide it.

The two of you stood there in companionable silence for a moment, the noise of the party fading into the background. Your presence was… calming, even if it made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t shake. You didn’t push him for answers or force him to join the party. You just stayed. And for a guy like Logan, that meant more than words ever could.

When you finally moved to stand in front of him, his brow furrowed. “What’re you—”

You pointed upward, and Logan followed your gaze. His stomach sank when he saw it: a sprig of mistletoe dangling above you, tied with a shiny red ribbon.

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud,” he muttered, scowling. “We don’t have to do this. It’s a stupid tradition.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with his gruffness. “Who says I mind?”

Logan blinked, the words catching him off guard. He stared at you for a long moment, searching your face for any sign you were joking. But you weren’t. There was no teasing smile, no hint of mockery. Just you, standing there with an expression so open, so patient, it made his heart squeeze painfully in his chest.

“…You’re serious?” he asked gruffly.

You gave him a small, encouraging smile. “It’s just a kiss, Logan. I’m not gonna bite.”

His pulse hammered in his ears as he hesitated, his instincts warring with the sharp, quiet longing gnawing at him all night. He didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve you.

But you didn’t pull away.

Logan leaned in slowly, his heart pounding harder with each inch that closed between you. But when he got close enough that he could feel the warmth of your breath against his skin, he shifted at the last second, pressing a kiss to your cheek instead. His lips lingered for a fraction of a second longer than they should have, and when he pulled back, his voice was low and rough.

“There. That’s good enough.”

You blinked in surprise, your hand coming up to touch the spot where his lips had brushed. Then you smiled—soft and genuine, the kind of smile that made his knees feel unsteady.

“Logan,” you huffed, your voice soft but insistent. “That’s not—”

“I’m not going to kiss you,” Logan cut in, his tone sharper than he intended. The words came out like a low growl, and the flash of hurt that crossed your face immediately made him regret it. His jaw clenched as he forced himself to look away, his hand instinctively dipping into his pocket to touch the small velvet box tucked there as if the feel of it would ground him. It didn’t.

You took a small step back, your frown deepening. “Okay,” you said quietly, your voice carefully neutral, but he could hear the edge of confusion in it, maybe even disappointment. It made his chest tighten all the more.

“That’s not what I meant,” Logan muttered, his throat tight. He couldn’t bring himself to meet your gaze, staring instead at the polished floorboards or the faint gleam of tinsel strung along the staircase. “It’s just… it’s a stupid tradition.” He gestured vaguely upward without looking, as though that explained everything.

Your eyes searched his face, trying to read him. “You didn’t seem to think it was stupid a second ago.”

Logan winced. Of course, you’d noticed. You could see straight through him. You always could. But the ache in his chest only burned hotter, louder, because no matter what he wanted, no matter how much he wanted to lean in and—

No.

You didn’t feel the same. Not the way he did.

“I don’t want to make this… weird,” he mumbled, the words feeling awkward and heavy in his mouth. He shifted his weight, his fingers still curled around the edges of the box in his pocket, his knuckles brushing the smooth velvet. “So let’s just forget it, alright?”

You studied him for a moment longer, your expression unreadable, before taking another small step back. That distance between you felt like a canyon, and Logan hated how cold the air seemed without you standing so close.

“…Alright,” you said finally, but your voice was quieter now, your smile dimmed at the edges. “If that’s what you want.”

Logan’s heart sank. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. Not even close. But he couldn’t say that. Couldn’t let himself say anything. Because what if you were standing here out of politeness, or because you thought it was a harmless, friendly gesture? What if you laughed or walked away if he told you the truth?

Still, the way you looked at him now made something twist painfully in his gut. You seemed… unsure. Cautious, even, as though you were starting to doubt yourself, and that was the last thing Logan wanted. But he was so tangled up in his own mess of feelings, that he didn’t know how to untangle it for you, let alone himself.

“Look, I didn’t mean—” he began, but you were already turning, folding your arms across your chest like you needed to shield yourself.

“It’s fine, Logan,” you interrupted, a bit too quickly. “I get it. Really. I shouldn’t have…” You trailed off, giving a small, uncertain laugh that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

Hearing those words from you felt like a punch to the gut. Logan opened his mouth to say something, anything, but his throat locked up, and he couldn’t force the words out. Instead, he just stood there, frozen, watching as you took another step back.

You hesitated as if you wanted to say something more. Your lips parted, but then you shook your head, offering him a soft, strained smile before murmuring, “Merry Christmas, Logan,” and slipping away.

The sound of your retreating footsteps echoed in his ears, growing fainter with each step, and Logan was left standing there, the faint smell of your shampoo lingering in the air and the velvet box burning like a brand in his pocket.

He let out a sharp breath, his shoulders sagging as he leaned back against the railing. The sting of your words—I shouldn’t have assumed—dug deep, and for the first time in a long time, Logan wasn’t sure who he was more upset with: you for misunderstanding, or himself for not setting it straight.

“Merry Christmas,” he muttered, the words bitter and hollow as they fell into the space you’d left behind.

⋆꙳•❅*‧ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

Another year had slipped by, and Christmas loomed on the horizon like a storm cloud you didn’t want to face. The mansion had come alive with garlands of tinsel, glittering lights, and the faint smell of spiced cider wafting from the kitchen. Normally, you loved this season. But this year, you wished you could ignore it altogether.

Last Christmas had been…a mess. Awkward silences, unresolved emotions, and Logan—who’d pulled away until he felt like a stranger. You’d spent the better part of the year trying to make sense of what had gone wrong, but all you’d gotten from him was cold distance and the occasional gruff nod when you crossed paths.

Now, here you were again. Another Christmas. Another opportunity to plaster on a smile and pretend everything was fine. But the truth was, you weren’t sure you had it in you this time. This year hadn’t been kind to you—not by a long shot. A rough breakup, the stress of life at the mansion, and the lingering ache of last Christmas had left you feeling worn thin.

You sighed, staring at your reflection in the fogged-up window of your room. Outside, the mansion grounds were covered in a blanket of snow, the soft glow of holiday lights spilling across the frost like molten gold. It was beautiful. And yet, all you felt was tired.

Maybe you’d just skip it this year. Stay upstairs, hide out with a book or a blanket, and wait for the festivities to pass.

A sharp knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. Before you could answer, Ororo’s voice drifted through the wood.

“Don’t even think about skipping this party,” she said, her tone lightly scolding but gentle enough to make you crack a small smile.

You opened the door to find her standing there, arms crossed, one brow raised in challenge.

“’Ro,” you began, sighing. “I don’t think—”

“Nope.” She cut you off with a shake of her head. “I don’t want to hear it. I know you’ve had a rough year, and I know you’re not in the mood, but you can’t hide away forever. Come downstairs. Just for a little while. If it’s awful, I promise I’ll sneak you back up here myself.”

Her smile was warm, but there was a glint of determination in her eyes that told you she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

You hesitated. “I don’t know, ‘Ro. I just—”

“You need this,” she said softly, placing a hand on your arm. “We all do. And who knows? Maybe it’ll be better than you think.”

Her words lingered, nudging at something deep inside you. Finally, you relented with a small sigh. “Fine. But if it sucks, you owe me cookies.”

Ororo’s laugh was light and airy as she looped her arm through yours. “Deal. Now, let’s go.”

The mansion’s common room was buzzing with life by the time you made your way downstairs. The tree stood tall in the corner, its ornaments glittering like tiny stars, while students and staff mingled, exchanging gifts and laughter. The air was warm and smelled of cocoa, cinnamon, and the faintest hint of evergreen.

It should’ve felt magical. It used to feel magical. But as you scanned the room, your gaze inevitably landed on Logan.

He was off to the side, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his usual scowl etched deep into his face. He looked almost comically out of place amidst the holiday cheer, like a grumpy bear surrounded by elves. And yet, even after everything, you felt that familiar tug in your chest.

Before you could think better of it, you found yourself heading toward the kitchen.

A few minutes later, you reappeared, a mug of steaming hot cocoa in hand. You crossed the room, weaving through the clusters of people until you reached Logan’s corner. He didn’t notice you at first—too busy staring into the middle distance like he was willing the party to end through sheer force of will.

“Hey,” you said softly, holding out the mug.

Logan glanced at you, his brow furrowing. “What’s this?”

“It’s called hot cocoa,” you said with a small smile. “I hear it’s good for sulking.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. Instead, he hesitated, his sharp eyes scanning your face like he was trying to figure out your angle. “I don’t need cheerin’ up,” he muttered gruffly, though he reached for the mug anyway.

“Good thing that’s not what I’m doing,” you replied, leaning lightly against the wall beside him. “I’m just here to keep you company. Can’t have you scaring off the kids with that face of yours.”

Logan snorted softly. He took a sip of the cocoa as the two of you stood there in silence, watching the party unfold. 

“You’ve been avoiding this, haven’t you?” you asked after a while, keeping your tone light.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stared into the mug like it held all the answers he didn’t have. “Don’t see the point,” he finally said, his voice low.

You glanced at him, frowning. “The point of what?”

“All this,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the room with the mug. “Christmas. The lights. The... cheer.”

You tilted your head, studying him. There was something in his tone—something heavier than the usual grumpiness he wore like armor. 

“Well,” you said, nudging his arm gently with your elbow, “maybe the point is that it’s not about all that stuff. Maybe it’s just about… being here. With people who care about you.”

Logan shrugged, his usual scowl still in place, but his eyes flickered. Something unspoken moved across his face—an emotion you couldn’t quite place—but just as quickly, it was gone.

“I guess,” he muttered, the words gruff and reluctant.

You huffed a small laugh, crossing your arms as you leaned against the wall beside him. “C’mon, Logan. What’s got you in such a grumpy mood? You’ve been like this all year.”

You weren’t sure why you were pressing him—maybe it was because you missed being around him, or the strange pull in your chest whenever you looked at him. Whatever it was, it made you keep going, even when he shot you a look that practically screamed drop it.

“Thanks for the cocoa,” he said abruptly, his tone dismissive as he pushed away from the wall and headed toward the kitchen.

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden retreat. “Logan—” you called after him, but he didn’t stop.

For a moment, you debated letting him go. He was stubborn, after all, and prying anything out of him was like trying to chisel through solid rock. But something about the way his shoulders hunched, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his back, made you follow him.

You caught up with him in the kitchen, where he stood by the counter with his back to you. The soft glow of the overhead lights cast shadows across the angles of his face, and you could see the tension in the set of his jaw, in the way his hands gripped the edge of the counter like it was the only thing holding him steady.

“You know if I didn’t know any better,” you said, leaning against the doorframe, “I’d think you were trying to avoid me.”

Logan glanced over his shoulder, but he didn’t say anything, his expression guarded as always.

You sighed, stepping further into the room. “Okay, fine. You don’t want to talk about it. I get that. But at least tell me what’s wrong so I can stop guessing.”

“There’s nothing to guess,” he said gruffly, turning back to the counter. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, sure,” you quipped, crossing your arms. When he didn’t respond, you rolled your eyes. “Alright, let’s see…did Scott say something to piss you off again?”

“No.”

“Jean?”

“No.”

“Did someone steal your cigar stash?”

That one almost got a smirk out of him, but he bit it back, shaking his head. “Just drop it.”

You ignored him, leaning against the counter beside him. “Is it me?” you asked, softer this time.

His shoulders tensed, and for a moment, you thought you might’ve hit the mark. But then he shook his head again, more firmly this time. “No.”

The sharpness of his tone made you pull back, but only for a second. You chewed on your lip, glancing down at your hands. “Well, whatever it is, you’re not the only one having a shitty year,” you said quietly, more to yourself than to him.

Logan frowned, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged, keeping your gaze fixed on the ground. “Just… this year hasn’t exactly been kind to me either, y’know? Between everything with the team, my family drama, and breaking up with Matt… it’s been a lot.”

Logan froze, his grip on the counter tightening. He turned to face you fully, his brow furrowing. “You and that guy—Matt—you broke up?”

You looked up, surprised by the sharpness in his voice. “Uh, yeah. A while ago, actually. I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t,” he said, his voice lower now, rougher.

Something in his expression shifted, and for the first time all night, he looked… uneasy. His usual mask of indifference slipped just enough for you to see the flicker of something else beneath it—something raw and vulnerable.

You tilted your head, studying him. “Why do you care?” you asked lightly, trying to make it sound casual, but your heart thudded in your chest as the question hung in the air between you.

Logan opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but then he closed it again, his jaw tightening. He turned back to the counter, gripping the edge like he needed to hold himself together. “I don’t,” he muttered, though the edge in his voice said otherwise.

Your brows knitted together, confusion prickling at the edges of your mind. He was acting strange—stranger than usual—and you couldn’t quite figure out why.

“Okay…” you said slowly, watching him carefully. “Well, for what it’s worth, breaking up with him sucked, but I’m trying, y’know? To move forward. To not let it ruin everything.”

Logan’s grip on the counter tightened again, the tension radiating off him in waves. He still wouldn’t look at you, and for some reason, that stung more than it should’ve.

“You should try it sometime,” you added softly, your tone half-joking but laced with sincerity.

He finally glanced at you then, his gaze sharp and searching. There was something in his eyes—something almost... vulnerable. But before you could figure out what it was, he looked away again, his walls slamming back into place.

“I’ll think about it,” he muttered gruffly, pushing away from the counter.

Just like that, he was retreating again, leaving you standing in the middle of the kitchen, the weight of his unspoken emotions hanging in the air like a storm cloud.

You sighed, watching Logan retreat, his broad shoulders hunched as the weight of the world had settled there. Whatever was bothering him, it wasn’t just the holiday blues. It ran deeper than that, buried under layers of that tough, gruff exterior. Pressing him hadn’t gotten you anywhere, but letting it go? That wasn’t an option.

Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you grabbed the empty cocoa mug from the counter, set them aside, and followed him out into the main hall.

“Logan,” you called, your footsteps echoing softly against the hardwood floor as you caught up to him by the staircase.

He paused, one boot planted on the bottom step, his hand gripping the banister. He didn’t turn around at first; he just stood there, shoulders stiff, his head tilted slightly like he was bracing for whatever you were about to say.

You stepped closer, your voice softer now. “Are you really going to sulk your way through another Christmas?”

Logan exhaled a slow, measured breath and turned halfway to face you, his expression shadowed by the warm glow of the holiday lights strung along the banister. “Didn’t know you were keepin’ track of my Christmas habits,” he said dryly.

“Hard not to when you make it so obvious,” you countered, folding your arms. “C’mon, Logan. Just talk to me. What’s going on? Did I do something?”

That last question slipped out before you could stop it, your voice almost hesitant. It wasn’t the first time you’d wondered if this distance between you—this quiet storm of tension—was somehow your fault.

Logan’s brows pulled together, and for a moment, something softened in his expression. “No. It’s not you,” he said, his voice low and rough, but there was an edge of sincerity in it that made your chest tighten.

“Then what is it?” you pressed, taking another step closer. “Because you’ve been acting… different. Ever since—” You stopped yourself, unsure if you should bring up last Christmas, the awkward tension that had hung over the two of you ever since, and the fact that you’d spent the better part of the year trying to piece together what had gone wrong.

Logan looked away, his jaw tight. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered. “Drop it.”

“Logan—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, his voice sharper now as he glanced at you. “I’m tellin’ you, it doesn’t matter. Leave it alone.”

Your lips parted to argue, but the way his eyes burned into yours stopped you in your tracks.

The air between you felt heavy, you weren’t sure what to say. But before you could find the words, Logan’s gaze shifted. His eyes flicked upward, and his entire body went still like he’d been turned to stone.

Frowning, you followed his line of sight—and that’s when you saw it.

The mistletoe.

It was hanging in the exact spot as last Christmas, tied with the same bright red ribbon, swaying ever so slightly with the movement of the air. You stared at it for a second, the memory of last year crashing back into you: the awkward pause, Logan’s gruff dismissal, and the sting of his words—“I’m not going to kiss you.”

Your gaze flicked back to Logan, who was still frozen in place, his jaw tight and his eyes fixed on the mistletoe like it was mocking him.

“Looks like some traditions die hard,” you said, attempting a joke to lighten the tension, though your voice came out a bit shakier than you’d intended.

Logan’s eyes snapped to yours, and something shifted in his expression. Whatever walls he’d been holding up—whatever force had kept him restrained—cracked in an instant.

“Fuck it,” he muttered under his breath, so low you almost didn’t catch it.

Before you could ask what he meant, Logan stepped forward, his hand lifting to cup your face. His movements were rough, almost desperate, as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss hit you like a wave, crashing over every thought and doubt you’d had over the past year. For a split second, you froze, your heart hammering in your chest. But then your hands instinctively grabbed onto the front of his flannel shirt, pulling him closer as you kissed him back just as desperately.

Logan groaned softly against your lips, the sound low and almost vulnerable, and it made your knees feel like jelly. His other hand settled on your waist, rough and warm even through the fabric of your sweater, and he kissed you like he was pouring every unspoken word he’d been holding back into you.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing hard, your foreheads resting against each other.

“Wow,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Logan let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “That wasn’t how I planned that.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your fingers still gripping the soft fabric of his flannel shirt, your breaths mingling. His lips were still flushed from the kiss, his gaze softer now in a way that made your heart ache.

“Planned what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, but you couldn’t stop the slight tremor in it.

Logan hesitated, his hands lingering on your waist as though he didn’t want to let go. But then, with a deep breath, his fingers left your sides and fumbled into the pocket of his flannel. You frowned slightly, watching as his usually steady hands moved clumsily, almost nervously.

“Last Christmas,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, “I wanted to—I planned on giving you this.”

From his pocket, he pulled out a small, worn velvet box. It wasn’t flashy; the edges were slightly frayed, and it looked like it had been sitting in his pocket for months. But the sight of it was enough to make your breath catch.

His thumb brushed over the fabric of the box, his brow furrowed as if he was searching for the right words. “I, uh… I was gonna give this to you last year. And, uh…” He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable, his usual gruff demeanor faltering in the face of vulnerability.

Your gaze flicked between him and the box, your heart hammering in your chest. “Logan,” you said softly, “what’s in there?”

Finally, he opened it.

Inside sat a pair of dog tags—his dog tags. They were old and worn, and you’d seen Logan wear every day since you’d known him. But seeing them here, nestled in the box like some kind of treasure, made your stomach flip.

You stared at them, your mind racing to catch up.

“I was gonna give these to you,” Logan said quietly, his voice rough at the edges. “Thought… I don’t know. Thought it’d be a good way to tell you how I feel. Thought maybe you’d… I don’t know, wanna be my girl.” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head at himself. “Damn, that sounds stupid.”

Your eyes shot up to his, wide and stunned. “Wait—you were going to ask me to be your girlfriend? Last Christmas?”

He winced slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. That was the plan.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Logan hesitated, his jaw tightening as he looked away, his thumb brushing absently over the edge of the box. “I heard you talkin’ to ‘Ro. Heard you say somethin’ about me just bein’ protective, that you didn’t feel that way about me.” His voice was quieter now, almost like he was ashamed of admitting it. “Figured I’d read it wrong. Figured maybe I was just foolin’ myself, thinkin’ you’d see me like that.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. “Logan,” you said softly, stepping closer, your hand instinctively reaching up to cup his cheek. He flinched slightly at the touch, but then leaned into it, his eyes closing briefly.

“That’s not what I meant,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I was scared. I thought you didn’t see me like that. I didn’t know what to do.”

His eyes opened, and the way he looked at you—like he was hearing those words for the first time—made your chest ache.

The air between you felt heavy like the weight of a year’s worth of misunderstandings was finally beginning to lift. Without saying a word, you leaned in and kissed him.

The kiss was slower, softer, but no less desperate. Your hands slid up to his face, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped around you, holding you like he was afraid you might disappear. When you finally broke apart, your forehead rested against his.

“I’m such an idiot,” Logan muttered, his voice laced with relief.

“You’re not an idiot,” you whispered, your lips curving into a small smile. “But you do have terrible timing.”

He chuckled softly at that, the sound rumbling low in his chest. Then, as if suddenly remembering, he held up the box again, his expression shifting into something almost shy. “So, uh… you still want these?”

You stared at him for a beat before laughing softly, your chest tightening warmly. “Of course I do.”

He let out a breath before his lips quirked into the faintest of smiles. Carefully, he took the dog tags from the box and stepped behind you, the metal cool in his hands as he reached around to clasp them around your neck.

“There,” he said gruffly, his voice softer now. “Looks better on you anyway.”

You glanced down at the tags, your fingers brushing over the engraved metal as your heart swelled. You turned to face him, your eyes shining. “You know this means you’re stuck with me now, right?”

“Guess I can live with that,” he replied, his smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though his voice held an unmistakable warmth.

You laughed, reaching up to tug him down into another kiss, your lips brushing his as you murmured, “Merry Christmas, Logan.”

He grinned against your lips, his hands settling on your waist. “Merry Christmas, darlin’.”

[mywritersmind]

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.1

christmas special

next part

summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : suggestive comments! dual pov! swearing! hope you like this!! comment to be on tag list <3

words : 2638

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Persistent knocking at the door forces me to pull myself off my nicely made bed and slump down the stairs. Max, Piertra and I are staying in a cabin for Christmas because our parents have decided to go to the beach.

It’s rustic and smells like cinnamon everywhere, the roof dusted with the snowfall from the night before. I hurry down the stairs in my airplane outfit because I haven’t even had time to unpack.

As soon as I rest my hand on the cold door knob and open it to see who’s waiting, I regret it. “Merry Christmas!” A smiling Lando Norris stares back at me, bags in hand and snow on his curls.

I slam the door in his face. I should have looked through the peephole, maybe he would have given up. “Max!” I yell, hearing the pattering of his feet on the hard wood and his head peaking out his door. “There’s a thing at the door for you.”

His face breaks into a grin as he runs down. He all but pushes me out of the way to get to his best friend, opening the door and hugging him.

I roll my eyes and start to walk away but Lando’s voice rings out behind me, “Welcoming as always, sunshine.” That fucking nickname makes me turn, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of meeting my eyes.

“Max, I thought you said we ordered pizza, not your childhood best friend.” Max gives me a look which makes me cross my arms. He never understood my hatred for Lando, probably because he was the one pissing me off with him.

Yet I think he’s grateful that I stay as far away as possible. Still, Karma is real and Max’s nightmare is having his baby sister even close to his reckless friend, that’s why Lando takes every opportunity to flirt with me.

“Play nice, Y/n. It’s Christmas, you know, kindness and joy?” I narrow my eyes at Lando who steps inside and shakes off the snow on Max, “We’re spending this as a group! A group that loves each other!” My brother pushes him away, shutting the door to block the cold air.

Lando blows me a kiss as P comes around the corner, Max leaving Lando for his girlfriend, “Lando, you’re here!” the traitor says as Max hugs her from behind, “Come in! I’m making hot chocolate!”

⋆༺

Lando Norris and I have never been best friends. He saw me purely as his best friend's little sister and someone to annoy. I saw him as my brother's annoying friend who was constantly in my way.

Or I guess I should say ‘see’ instead of ‘saw’ because our childhood banter has continued through to adulthood. I can’t stand him, he’s cocky and annoying. I don’t know why he flirts with me, maybe it’s partly to annoy me and partly to get to my brother who yells at him anytime he so much as calls me pretty.

I like to think I'm more mature than my thirteen year old self who would scream at Lando for tying my shoes together, but as Lando makes an absurd amount of noise in the room adjacent to mine, I can’t help but slam my hand on our connecting doors.

We arrived at night so I was in bed quickly after dinner. I wish I was warm and cozy in my bed, but Lando blinks at me innocently after opening the door.

My eyes betray me when they leave his face and look at what he’s wearing. Or what he’s not wearing… Shirtless and in sweats, Lando looks all too smug.

“Can you shut up? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Can you stop checking me out? I’m on facetime.” He holds up his phone to show a dark screen, I can make out the sleepy face of Carlos Sainz. I push his phone back down, a bit embarrassed in my quadrant hoodie.

“Just keep it down, Norris. Can’t you and your boyfriend catch up later, like in daylight?”

That devious smirk makes its way back on his face, “Jealous, Sunshine?” That fucking nickname makes me roll my eyes, “I heard about the breakup… I feel horrible for him. Seemed like a nice guy.”

I grind my teeth together at the mention of my ex. How does he even know!? That was months ago. “Like you’re one to talk, losing the championship couldn’t have been good for your dick.”

His brow quirks at me playing back, “How often do you think about my dick, Sunshine?”

I put on my best sweet smile, my hand on the door, “When i’m in bed…” he leans closer, nodding, “Alone…” his brow raises and It makes my smile grow, “Getting sick at the idea and the alcohol in my system.”

His face drops as he stands straighter, “Why do you insist on lying to yourself? It’s not a good habit.”

“Why do you insist on being an asshole? Go to sleep.” I shut the door, giving him no choice but to back up quickly into his room.

“Sweet dreams, sunny!” He calls as I sigh and get back into bed, hoping for a good night's sleep and my headache to go away.

⋆༺

lando

Max makes me get up early so we can get breakfast before all the menus switch. I’m pushed out the door with Y/n by my side, her hair curled and looking far too put together for this early.

She has on jeans, a sweater, and a light blue puffer jacket over. Although she looks put together, I realize she’s just as tired as I am when I accidentally nudge her while walking to the car.

She pushes me back roughly as if it was my intent to touch her. Max and P are holding hands and walking ahead of us, so he doesn’t see his sister harassing me.

“Hey!” I’m lucky I didn’t slip because of my hands firmly in my jacket’s pockets. I feel like a marshmallow, I'm fully covered from a beanie on my head to seven layers and boots on my feet.

I go to push her back but the look she gives me reminds me that I know better. “What’s got you in such a good mood today, sunshine?”

She eyes me when I say the nickname I started calling her at fifteen. “I didn’t sleep.”

“I slept extremely well. Nice dreams too.” She rolls her eyes and opens the car door, the two of us sitting in the back while Max drives.

“I’m so happy for you.” She says, sarcasm dripping from her voice. She leans her head against the window, her breath showing on the glass.

“Wanna know what I dreamt about?” I smirk, clicking my seatbelt as she doesn’t move. “I’ll give you a hint.”

She looks at me, her cheek squished against the window that I know is freezing. “Would you like my foot up your ass?”

I ignore her, “You were there.” Max and P turn on the radio as we leave the driveway, speaking quickly about something and definitely not paying attention to us. “It was really hot… complete opposite of the snow. We had to strip.”

I’m leaning in closer, just in case. I don’t feel like getting my ass kicked by her brother today. “Sounds like it was a dream for a reason.” Y/n blinks, pulling my seatbelt back so it locks and I have no choice but to sit back in my seat.

God she’s hot.

⋆༺

We spend most of the day looking around the town, peeking into shops and going to the grocery store. We end up at a christmas tree farm about thirty minutes away from our house.

“I feel like I'm in a hallmark movie.” I think that should be a bad thing but they are my guilty pleasure. P and I wander down each row of trees, hot chocolate in hand and the boys arguing behind us.

“I’m so glad we’re here!” the blonde squeals next to me, “I know you don’t love Lando but he’s still fun. Plus no one should be alone on christmas!”

I raise a brow, “Why would he be alone?” I never really wondered why Lando was with us, but now I realize that it probably wasn’t just to fuck up my own holiday.

She shrugs and keeps looking for trees, talking about our plans to ski and snowboard tomorrow and yelling at Max to remember to find gingerbread houses.

“This one is perfect!” Lando runs up to the biggest tree in the lot, he looks extra small next to it.

“There’s no way we’re getting that in the house.” I say, crossing my arms and watching Lando shake his head vigorously.

One thing about Lando is that once he knows he wants something, he sets his mind to it in an almost urgent fashion.

“Have a little Christmas spirit, Sunshine.” he mumbles as he looks around the tree, then to a worker, “We’ll take it!”

“I’m not helping you two get that in the house.” P shakes her head as they start to drag the huge thing to the car.

As soon as they realize it won’t fit in our car, Lando pays a random man who has a truck to bring it to us. We’re back home soon after, Max going on about how he hopes our tree isn’t being stolen.

Our tree is thankfully not stolen and is outside our house when we get there. The man that helped us refuses the money and asks for a picture with Lando instead.

I’m very aware of Lando’s fame, but at moments like this, it’s still shocking. To me, he’s still the little shit who would beat me in karting and shove it in my face.

P and I sit on the couch eating cookies and making sure my phone is silenced while Lando and Max struggle with the tree for almost an hour. By the time it’s up, it’s dark and I'm hungry.

“I can’t reach!” I groan, standing on the side of the couch and trying to put ornaments higher up on the tree.

We’re a bit screwed considering the lot of us are quite short. I give up and just throw it up there, luckily it catches on a bit of green and stays there.

“Here.” Lando says to me, handing the star that we bought today at a local shop. “Try not to break it?”

I mimic him and stand on my tippy toes, trying to reach but being nowhere close. “Christ, Someone help her out.” Max cringes as he watches from his comfortable position on the couch.

I turn to him, “You could help, you know!”

P laughs, sucking on a candy cane and sorting through the decorations on the floor. I turn back to the tree and am taken severely off guard when Lando’s hands appear on my legs.

“Norris!” I scream as his head goes between my legs so I'm sitting on his shoulders. It’s an absolute ambush by a man in a too tight white shirt. “What are you doing!?” I grab onto his hair as he groans from me pulling it.

“It’s called a solution, Sunshine.” He stands up on the edge, wobbling a bit. I pull tighter but he retaliates by gripping my leg.

I roll my eyes and don’t dare look at P who I know has her phone out. Lando lifts me like it’s nothing, looking up at the top of the tree and seeing it far closer than it was.

I pop the star onto it and expect Lando to put me down but he just hops off the couch, “Norris, I swear-”

Max has a smile so big that my heart immediately starts beating faster. I can’t see Lando’s face but I know he’s smirking. “Don’t swear, it’s bad manners.”

“Right, cause you’re a great example of good manners.” I tug on his hair again and make him look up at me, he stops on the way to the front door. “Put me down.”

“Ask nicely.” Even from upside down he's hot. I let go of his hair but don’t accept defeat.

“Max, help!” I kick my feet against Lando as he opens the door, “Pietra!?”

I can’t see anything but the front yard, covered in snow. I’m freezing as soon as he steps out and I star fighting harder when I realize why Max is laughing so hard.

That’s when I start screaming. Our neighbors would probably think someone’s being murdered but this house is in the middle of nowhere!

“Norris! I’ll kill you!” I’m trying to get off but he’s just too damn strong, “Lando!” And then I go face first into four feet of soft snow.

I’m practically wrestling him by the time I get up, “I slipped! I slipped!” He yells as I shove his face into the snow. “Uncle!”

I’m laughing now, his face white and hair covered in snow, “Stop trying to murder my friend!” Max watches from the door, popping chips into his mouth as he lets us go at it.

I throw a snowball at my brother.

Lando takes my distracted position and throws a handful of snow in my mouth. I start coughing and slapping every part of him that I can. “Come back inside! You both are gonna get hypothermia.” P says from the door, wrapped in a blanket.

Lando stands up first, holding a hand out to me, a smirk on his face. I don’t take his hand, standing up on my own and pushing past him to walk inside.

Max messes with my hair as Lando shakes the snow from his curls on my brother like a dog. “Movie time!” P claps her hands together, “The grinch or elf?”

I groan, brushing my hands through my hair as Lando leans against the kitchen table, his arms flexing under the pressure and thoroughly distracting me.

“I hate elf.”

Lando’s jaw drops along with Max’s, “How can you hate elf!?” Max scoffs, “You are not my sister.”

“How can anybody hate elf!?” Lando shakes his head, “P, we’re watching elf.”

P laughs, “I’m a bit sick of the grinch, Y/n. Sorry.” Max puts his arm around P, shrugging and walking into the movie room.

Lando pushes off the table, swiping a blanket resting on a chair and handing it to me, “You look a bit pale, maybe you should warm up.”

I take the blanket, narrowing my eyes, “Is there going to be a sex joke after that?”

He puts his hand onto his chest, looking appalled, “I didn’t know you had such a dirty mind.”

I know he’s messing with me but I can’t help but play into it. “You don’t know a lot of things about me.”

“I’d like to know more. More that involves one of our rooms’ temperature going up and not because of the heater.” Cocky bastard.

I hum and start walking away, “Ah, there’s the sex joke.”

Lando follows behind me. I wish his mouth would stay shut but I know I'm not that lucky. “I know you’d like it.”

“You don’t know anything.”

He stops me before we get to the door where P and Max are behind. “Let me prove you wrong, then we’ll talk.” I knows he messing with me. I hate him for it.

He’s got that stupid smirk on his face, his eyes are soft, teasing, and darker in this light. His hands are in his pockets and that damn shirt is still tight against his biceps. Just because I hate him, doesn’t mean I can’t find him attractive.

I let out a breath, eyeing him one last time before pushing the door open, “Stick to me in your dreams, Lan.”

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 21 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is learning firsthand just how lonely a deployment can be when he's gotten used to talking to you all the time. You are more than happy to record your daily adventures for him, including your steamy ones.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, masturbation, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Your original plan to commute to work from your apartment in Mira Mesa went out the window after the box from Bradley arrived. Suddenly his place seemed cozier now that there were tidy rows of envelopes from him covering the table in the living room. You sipped a mug of coffee and looked at all of them, selecting the one that said Open me with your class.

"Whatever you say, Bradley," you murmured with a smile, tucking it into your tote bag for work. You missed your kids almost as much as you missed him, but at least you'd finally get to see them today. You just hoped there was something upbeat in the note, because you were going to have to inform them that he'd be gone until Career Day. Or maybe longer.

Opening the note that was meant for you and your class before digging into all the others just felt right. Really, he was a faithful pen pal to all nineteen of you, even if his current letters were pre-written. As you drove to work, you wondered how long it would take your students to ask about Bradley. Turns out, it didn't take too long at all.

You were standing behind your desk, getting hugs from some of the kids as they got reacquainted with each other and the classroom for the first time in almost two weeks when Jayden asked, "What did you get Lieutenant Bradshaw for Christmas?"

Images of lingerie danced in your head as you cleared your throat. "Stationery," you replied. "So he can write us letters while he's deployed."

"He's deployed?" asked Nia, face lighting up. "With Marty?"

"Can we do another drawing contest with him?" shouted Oliver, already getting colored pencils out of his desk.

"Will you ask if he's allowed to take a video while he's flying this time?" Violet asked calmly.

"Actually," you replied, walking slowly to the front of the room with a single envelope in your hands, "we can't do any of those things. He's not allowed to communicate with anyone who isn't on the aircraft carrier this time around. If he writes to us, he'll have to save the letters until he returns."

Everyone stared blankly at you. 

Jackie raised her hand. When you pointed to her, she said, "But we're not like random people. We're students of aviation. We're his pen pals."

"Yeah!" came a chorus of voices, and you were half tempted to write up a petition to the Navy for all of them to sign.

You had to clap your hands and wait for them to clap in response after they all quieted down again. "I have a note that he wants me to open with you. Should we do that now?"

After literally everyone agreed that was a good idea, you opened it and found a handwritten link to a YouTube video followed by a short note that you read out loud.

"Greetings, Fourth Graders,

By the time you read this, it will be January, and I'll be on an aircraft carrier in the Atlantic Ocean for a seven week deployment. I'm sure your lovely teacher has explained that sending and receiving letters is sadly not a possibility for me right now. I'm going to need you to keep track of all your questions about aviation until I get back for Career Day next month. I'll bring some of my friends along, and we can answer them for you then. Sound good?

Make sure you listen to your teacher, and I'll see you all in February.

Yours Truly,

Lieutenant Bradshaw"

You looked up from the notecard and added, "He also included a link to a YouTube video. Should we check it out now?"

It was actually amazing how quietly they all sat in anticipation while you set up your projector and typed out the link. When you turned out the lights, you had to grab onto the edge of your desk as Bradley's face and voice filled your classroom, even though he wasn't actually there. The twenty minute video began with him sitting on his living room couch in his worn out jeans and the Top Gun shirt you wore to bed last night, and you realized he must have filmed this on Christmas Eve when you were out with Natasha.

"Hi, everyone," said video Bradley as he waved to his phone camera. "I thought I would try my hand at a little lesson on aviation so your teacher could get a break. Make sure you take notes. There will be a quiz the next time I see you."

All of your students were watching him with rapt attention and pencils poised over their notebooks. Bradley kept them engaged and entertained while you fell even more in love.

-----------------------------

"What the fuck?" Bradley groaned as he sank down into an empty spot on one of the long benches in the mess hall. The spaghetti looked like mush, but his stomach was growling so aggressively, he decided to take a bite anyway. It tasted just as bad as it looked, and he grimaced as he started to shovel it into his mouth anyway.

What he wouldn't give for dinner at Salvatore's. Mouthwatering pasta. Expensive as hell wine. You in a short little dress with his hands all over your thighs. Maybe Bronco parking lot sex.

Instead he got another USS Gerald R. Ford meal which was barely edible, and a view of a very hairy Atlantic Fleet aviator with the call sign Curly. Fantastic. Even the garlic bread was so stale it was hard to chew, but if he didn't eat, he would start losing weight. And if he started losing weight, it would make working out harder, which would suck, because going to the gym was his main source of entertainment.

Other than writing letters he couldn't send.

"Are you gonna finish that?" Curly asked, pointing at the roll Bradley only bit the corner of.

"It's all yours, man," he replied, watching the other aviator pick it up and crunch on it with a smile. 

Bradley picked up his tray with the intention of heading to his bunk to change into gym clothes, but when he got there, he collapsed onto the twin sized bed instead. It was clear that he'd only been brought along for this deployment to fly one very specific mission, because as a whole, the Atlantic Fleet pilots were young and green. But as a result of the current political climate, he had internet access completely taken away from him, and he was stuck here for five more weeks with nothing to keep him sane. He didn't even have Marty this time around. Just the pretty stationery set you gave him and the holiday cards from your students.

So he would do what he always did now. He would write. To all nineteen of you. But mostly to you. He realized, like he always did, that this was probably the most boring shit that anyone would ever read. How many times could you really read about your boyfriend telling you that he loved you and missed you. It wasn't like he was writing elegant poetry here.

Gorgeous, I miss you so much. You'd cry if you saw the spaghetti I had to eat for dinner. First thing I'm doing when I get home (besides you) is driving us to Salvatore's, and I won't stop eating until I pass out. The Atlantic Fleet food makes the Pacific Fleet cabbage rolls seem like a delicacy, and the US fucking Navy can quote me on that. 

I love you. I wish you knew I was coming back to you instead of Norfolk. I wish I could ask you to use the credit card in my sock drawer to fully stock the refrigerator before I get home. The only things I want to do for three solid days after I arrive back in San Diego are eat, sleep, and fuck my girlfriend.

Definitely not poetry. "Was my writing this shitty last time around?" he murmured to himself with a laugh. It couldn't have been if you kept responding to him for the duration of that deployment. Just thinking about your letters, both professional and personal, made him ache right now. Your emails and your sassy selfies and the sunset photos were things he didn't even know he had been taking for granted.

One letter from you now would have made everything so much better. With a deep sigh, Bradley changed to head to the gym.

------------------------------

Time passed slowly. Packing up and moving boxes of your things from Mira Mesa to Coronado helped, but you were a little too nervous to unpack too much other than the necessities. You didn't even want to think about that right now. All you wanted to do was plan your next visit to the wine bar with Natasha so you felt a little less lonely. 

As you hung the framed blueprint of the Super Hornet Bradley gave you in the living room, you realized he would have to be lonelier than you were. At least you had Jayden's tales of Vanessa the dog to make you laugh during the work day. And you went out to dinner with some of your friends you hadn't seen recently. And you had a never ending text thread with Natasha now. 

There was a pretty good chance Bradley didn't know anyone on this deployment, and you wondered if he was spending a lot of time in the gym. What you wouldn't give for a gym selfie. You collapsed onto the couch and scrolled through the images of your boyfriend that you had saved to your phone.

"God," you moaned. He was so hot. Especially in front of a sunset. Especially with your lipgloss smudged on his cheek. Especially when he was looking at you in his arms instead of at the camera. "Fuck."

When someone knocked on the door, you nearly fell off the couch. Your eyes caught on the envelopes from Bradley that you hadn't yet opened lined up on the coffee table as you walked across the room. The last time you had an unexpected visitor, it was Natasha. The time before that, it was Vanessa. You didn't know who to expect, but you squared your shoulders and pulled the door open with an abundance of attitude only to find a slightly hunched over older woman standing there.

"Oh!" you said, immediately softening your stance. "What can I do for you?"

She looked from you to the Bronco in the driveway and then back again. "Is Bradley home?"

"No, he's not," you told her, unsure about how much information to give. "Is there something you need?"

She eyed you carefully. "Are you his girlfriend? The teacher he fell in love with?" This stranger knew who you were. When you gave her a concerned look and took a step away from her, she said, "I'm Edith. I live next door. Sometimes Bradley helps me with yard work and repairs around my property." She smiled and added, "He only lets me pay him in piano lessons."

"Edith!" You told her your name with a smile. You knew exactly who she was, because the first time Bradley wrote to you about getting piano lessons from his retired neighbor, you fell halfway in love with him on the spot. "Right, of course! Bradley is actually deployed for a few more weeks." She looked immediately dejected, so you asked, "Did you need help with something?"

"I don't want to bother you with it," she said immediately.

"Please," you replied, already reaching for your shoes. "I'm so bored without Bradley around. I would absolutely love a distraction, Edith."

She wrung her hands and then held them up. "Well, I can't change my light bulbs, because my arthritis is bad this time of year when it gets chilly out. And my back patio is so dark at night, I can't see anything."

"Say no more," you told her, joining her on the porch and closing the door behind you.

It only took you a few minutes to change the exterior light bulbs and rearrange her patio furniture. Then you cocked your head to the side and asked, "Is something beeping?"

Edith sighed. "My smoke detector needs new batteries."

"I'm on it."

She led you inside the sliding glass door, into her kitchen where the beeping was annoying enough that you didn't know how this woman could have slept in the house unless her hearing was starting to slip. Edith told you where you could find a step ladder and new batteries, and once you finished that chore, she started digging around in her purse, pulling out five dollars.

"Thank you for your help," she said, trying to hand it to you as you walked past the piano with the step ladder.

"I am absolutely not accepting your money, Edith. This was the most entertaining part of my day. As long as your arthritis allows it, you can pay Bradley in extra piano lessons when he returns." 

The idea of Norfolk suddenly made you feel anxious, but Edith smiled. "Oh, he's an advanced student. He mostly just plays from memory. I only point out when he's flat instead of sharp."

You weren't sure how long it had been since Bradley checked in with her, but as long as he was allowed to come back to San Diego, you'd make sure he did it more often. "I'll send him over as soon as he gets back."

Edith smiled knowingly. "Something tells me he's not going to want to leave your side right when he gets back. But maybe after a day or two, you could send him over?"

"I'll do that," you told her with a chuckle.

After you walked back across the yard and let yourself inside, you kicked off your shoes and decided to treat yourself with one of Bradley's notes. You'd been trying to ration them, but they were all so tempting. The ones you had already opened were stacked up on the kitchen counter where you could easily find them to read them again and again. You took a few seconds to decide which one felt right, and you settled on Open me when you need a laugh.

Inside the envelope, you found no note at all. There was just one photo, and when you pulled it out, you burst into laughter. Natasha was right; twenty-two year old Bradley was endearingly skinny and mustache-less. He still wore that same grin today, but he really grew into his frame. You marveled over how fresh his scars looked in the picture, deciding to hang it up in the bedroom for now. 

And when you woke up on Sunday, the photo was the first thing you saw.

You reached for your phone thinking you could text Bradley before tossing it aside in frustration. You were frustrated in every way. Mentally and emotionally, but also physically. You missed sleeping next to him most nights. You missed his warmth and the way he kissed you. His strong body and attentive hands.

When you tried to burrow down under the covers in just his sweatshirt to go back to sleep, your skin felt like it was charged. Like there was an undercurrent of need that nothing would soothe except for Bradley.

Open me when you're in bed

That's what one of the envelopes said. You bit your lip before burying your face in Bradley's pillow and moaning. The need was still there, more palpable by the second. You had about an hour before Natasha was supposed to pick you up for brunch and the wine bar; it was the perfect time to read that note.

You ran down the hallway to the coffee table, grabbed the envelope, and took it straight back to bed. Your curiosity had been gnawing away at your mind over what could be in the note meant for the quiet solitude of the bedroom, and now was your chance to find out as you slipped back under the covers.

Gorgeous,

You better be in our bed right now. Maybe you just got home from work. Maybe you're still waking up for the day. Maybe you're ready to fall asleep soon, but you just need something to take the edge off. It doesn't matter, as long as you're thinking about me and my hands all over your body. I hope you're ready to read about how I would take care of you right now.... in an abundance of detail.

You moaned as you looked around the room, wide-eyed like someone was going to catch on to what he had written to you. Desire flared inside you as you squeezed your thighs together and took a few deep breaths before continuing to read.

You're beautiful inside and out. It's no surprise that you really get me going. One thought about the soft swell of your ass or the way you taste when you cum is enough to get me seriously hard. Jerking off while thinking about you is fantastic, but nothing compares to the real thing. Next time I see you, we're taking our time to get reacquainted, but right now, if I could have you, it would be fast and dirty.

"Oh god," you groaned, closing your eyes as you pushed his sweatshirt up, letting cool air meet your warm skin. Then your hand slid down to the apex of your thighs, and you weren't at all surprised to find you were wet.

You look sinful in that bed. I just know it. I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you. My lips would find your breasts before sampling my way down your belly to that soaking wet pussy. When I say every inch of your body is Gorgeous, I mean it. You've got such a tight, pretty little pussy, and I would love to tease you until you're so worked up, you're practically crying. Just my mouth and fingers until you're begging for my cock, Gorgeous. Go ahead. Beg for it.

"Bradley," you moaned softly, a complete mess for your boyfriend even when he wasn't with you.

Good girl. Now touch yourself just how I'd touch you. Rub yourself just right. Use two of those fingers to warm yourself up and then dip them down inside that perfect pussy. So fucking tight, you drive me insane when I can't be with you. I'd be right above you, singing your praises, telling you how much I love you, and pumping my fingers in and out of that pussy while you whine and beg.

This note was absolutely lethal. You were already close. Sweat beaded on your brow as you stroked your fingers along your clit before pumping them inside you. His name was never far from your lips as you kept reading.

You taste so fucking sweet. I'd run my tongue everywhere until you couldn't stand it. I would eat your pussy until you cum in my mouth. I'd keep going until I couldn't handle how badly I needed you. Then I'd fuck you so hard and fast, you'd have tears in your eyes, voice ragged as my body slapped against yours. Tits bouncing as I bottomed out, holding you in place as I came inside you. And then I would let you know that I'm yours.

I'm all yours, Gorgeous. You absolutely own me.

You were panting, grinding the heel of your hand against your clit as you came. Bradley's note fell from your fingers as your back arched off the bed, and you grabbed the sheet as you cried out. You could hear something familiar mingling with your own voice, but it took you a second to realize your phone was ringing as you writhed around in bed, heart pounding fast from your orgasm. You rolled onto your belly and grabbed your phone as you sucked air into your lungs.

Natasha Trace

Shit. Shit. You tried to get your breathing under control as you answered her call, but you even sounded strange to your own ears as you said, "Hello?"

There was a pause before Natasha asked, "I'm leaving now, and I might stop for a fancy coffee on my way to get you. Do you want something?"

"Sure!" you replied, trying your best to sound casual, but pretty sure you were failing.

"I'll be there soon."

You dropped your phone and reached for the journal instead to let Bradley know just how hard you came for him before you got dressed for the day. 

-----------------------------

"Bradshaw!"

It felt like an almost foreign concept for Bradley to hear his name now. Essentially nobody spoke to him outside of his mandatory meetings, and he'd spent so little time in a cockpit over the last few weeks, he spun around in surprise when someone called him.

Of course it was Admiral Walker. Bradley wasn't sure if he was being punished for what Cyclone had done, but he was hardly given any flight tasks to work on. But now that his deployment was starting to wind down, he realized the danger he was going to be flying into for his mission was much more than he originally anticipated.

"Admiral Walker, Sir?" he replied, saluting his superior officer. He wasn't looking to ruffle any more feathers here as long as it meant he'd be going home to you before too long. He felt sick with longing, missing you so much, especially at night, that he hurt until he was finally able to fall asleep. And then he'd wake up to the same choking feeling all over again the following day.

The older man examined him closely for a few beats before saying, "The weather looks ideal for tomorrow. You're team leader. Be ready to go at first light."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, because there was really nothing else to say. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner he could return home to his house in Coronado where you lived now. Where you were waiting for him. He just needed to get through this safely.

--------------------------------

I hate how isolated he feels. He's not thriving. He's not even eating well. He needs a hug. Gorgeous is enjoying the box of letters even is she is missing him terribly. I think I'll send him home soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 22

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

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[steddieas-shegoes]

At ten years old, Eddie’s mama gets a raise at work just in time for Christmas. This is the same year Wayne works enough to set aside almost $200 for Eddie’s Christmas presents.

Eddie doesn’t know this, and he’s a kid who knows better than to expect more than a few things in his stocking and one or two “bigger gifts” -usually books or tapes- so it’s a surprise when his stocking is overflowing and there’s a huge box under the tree Christmas morning.

Even more surprising is that it’s labeled from Santa, and Eddie hasn’t believed in Santa for nearly three years despite everyone in his classes still believing. He bounces on his feet while he waits for Wayne to get his coffee, for his mama to finish making their special hot chocolate.

The year he gets his first guitar is also the year he finds out his mama can sing like a rock star.

It’s the year he finds out Wayne used to play bluegrass at a bar back home and probably could��ve made it big if he was willing to leave his sister.

It’s the year Eddie finds out he can play by ear and uses it to his advantage to learn all his favorite songs as soon as he figures out the chords.

And for years, he is quick to pull out his acoustic to learn something new, even when he manages to buy his electric with money from helping fix cars at the shop where his uncle’s friend works.

After he saves Hawkins, and his hands stop shaking enough for him to play, he asks Steve to bring his acoustic to the hospital so he can entertain himself. Steve shares a look with Wayne, then his mama.

“It, uh, didn’t survive…everything.”

Nothing broke his heart quite like hearing that.

He pretends it’s okay though, doesn’t want his mama and Wayne to feel worse than they already did about everything.

He tables his emotions until he’s alone that night, shortly after dinner when everyone goes home to get some rest before the next day of volunteering, and cleaning, and visiting.

He’s woken up in the middle of the night by the door opening, and even though the person coming in is trying to be quiet, the door creaks from the building settling funny during the “earthquake.”

“Steve?”

Steve turns and even in the dark, Eddie can see his blush.

He’s holding something.

Something big and guitar shaped.

“What have you done?”

Steve walks over to him and gently sets the guitar case in his lap.

Eddie opens it and sees a gently used acoustic with Eddie’s name now engraved on the side.

“Steve.”

“You can have nice things. You should have nice things. We don’t have many options right now, but at least you won’t get rusty.”

Eddie cried.

Steve held him.

And after Steve wiped his tears away and kissed his forehead—which was something they’d be talking about as soon as Eddie could focus on something other than the guitar in his lap— he played slower songs, songs that even Steve could recognize, until a nurse realized Steve was here past visiting hours and kicked him out.

When his mama saw it the next morning propped by his bed, she smiled knowingly.

“I see the boy followed through.”

“What?”

“He asked me all kinds of questions about guitars and what your old one looked like and if a used one would be okay. Don’t know how he found one so quick.”

“He’s pretty determined when he sets his mind to something.”

“I think he’s set his mind on you, baby.”

Eddie thought maybe she was right.

[anaargent]

ANOTHER FIVE?

FIVE HARGREEVESxREADER

*After watching season 4, we became orphans and widows. But the idea of a coffee shop with a bunch of fives is not bad at all.* (this is my first attempt)

.

.

-Stay here with Allison, I'll be back soon - Five said with a soft look as he lightly squeezed her hand, before letting go and turning around. You watched apprehensively as he walked to Lila and they disappeared together in a space jump.

-Well, maybe we should go after Klaus then - you said, looking at Allison, with no idea of ​​when Five would return and give some satisfaction.

It shouldn't bother you so much anymore, the sudden disappearances, the lack of explanations, it had been six years, maybe you should expect more than a sincere relationship with Five. But you still waited, you still clung to any minimal show of affection you managed to get from him, even if it was a simple handshake.

You didn't know Five before his chaotic return in 2019, old hargreeves adopted you years after his early disappearance, for some reason you were younger than your 'brothers', but he never explained to you why. He called you 'the void', claiming that one day you would be very useful to the team, that day never came.

dinner at Diego and Lila's house

Something was different, you knew it the moment Five and Lila returned in the middle of Christmas dinner, faces closed and thoughtful. You didn't dare ask, but you could deduce from the looks the two shared. Then Diego noticed, then the whole family noticed. You were silent, what should you say? that she felt betrayed by the revelation that Five could show affection so freely after 7 hours with Lila, and not with you despite everything they had together?

It's over anyway, you let out a bitter laugh, finally gaining Five's attention, the attention you had been chasing so hard to gain - I guess we're settled then.

You really wanted to come out on top of all this shit, with grace and maturity after being dumped. But then Diego attacked Five, the same Diego who took care of you after your entire family dissolved and you had no one, the same Diego who took you to live in his not-so-safe apartment while he became a sort of vigilante at night.

-we're not done when we don't even have something solid- five says with his superior tone ,maybe it wasn't on purpose, maybe you had underestimated Five's talent and sensitivity for human relations up until that point.

Who could blame you, right? - You son of a bitch - when you realized, your hands were connected to Five's perfectly aligned hair, pulling with all your strength. Then everything became a mass of people, Klaus and Allison in the distance shouting "pull harder S/N!", Diego and Luther grabbing me in an attempt to get me off Five, who was trying not to lose all his hair, and Lila trying to pull Five back.

-What the hell is going on here? - A deep voice rang out above all the noise, everyone froze and looked towards the door, where a Five, looking more adult and rumpled than the Five I was attacking, stood in the doorway.

Everyone shared a lost look, watching the new five jump especially in the middle of the crowd and separate you and your five - I looked for you in so many timelines, darling - the adult five smiled sweetly, caressing your cheek, it would be a lie to say that this didn't shock you. - And you - he turned to the disheveled five - we need to talk

[yamumsyadadd]

change

Part of the Mariquita universe. Others can be found here:

mariquita , mami and mama, accident, different

Talks of adoption trauma, birth, anxiety. Little over 6k.

There was a weird energy around the apartment, it was hard for you to pinpoint exactly what it was. 

After the suspension from school and then removal and enrolment into the new school, you thought you’d be grounded. No tv, no iPad, no fun. But that wasn’t the case at all. Besides going shopping for a new school uniform, no one said anything about it. 

During Christmas dinner, your Abuela seemed to be stuck to you like glue. Whenever you went, she went. If you wanted a drink, she was up before you finished the sentence. Constantly filling your plate up with food to the point where you felt sick. When you finally got home, you asked your Mami about it. 

“Is abuela dying?” 

“Que? Why would you say that?” 

“She wouldn’t leave me alone. stuck to me like a baby.” At the word baby, both Olga and Alexia tensed. They were keeping a secret, a big secret that would change the way everything was. 

“I think she’s just sad you’re growing up. You used to be so little and cute.” Your Mami pinched your cheeks affectionately. 

“Maybe you should have another baby so she can annoy it.” The air in the room changed again, but you were either blissfully unaware or just didn’t care. 

“Right, it’s late, you should go to sleep. We have a busy few days!” Your Mami all but shoved you down the hallway. Turning back to Olga and waiting until the cost was clear, “this is going to be harder then I thought.” 

“we could just tell her amor. I think she’ll be happy.” 

“A few more days okay? We’ll go away, just the three of us, spend some quality time together and then we can tell her in the new year.” 

The break between Christmas and new year, have your family some much needed rest. La Molina ski resort was only two hours from Barcelona. It was far enough away to feel like a proper holiday but close enough that if needed, your family could return quickly. 

The hotel room was big enough to fit you, your Mami, abuela and tia alba if they were invited. There were two beds in your room, secretly deciding to sleep in both just because you could. 

Neither your Mami or Olga joined you for skiing, which wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary, the last time you went to the snow, only Olga joined and she wasn’t very good so since then she has watched. Ice skating however, that’s something you’d do, the three of you, at the Christmas markets in Mollet, sometimes tia alba would join but she was even worse at ice skating then Olga was at skiing. 

You were sent to join the kids club for a few hours while Olga and your Mami relax, alexia insisted, stating it would be good for you to make new friends, as if you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the school year making new friends. 

Skiing was fun, freeing. You suppose it’s how your Mami nd mama feel when they play football or how Olga feels when she’s on a plane to a different city. You like skiing, more than you’ve ever liked football, but it was a winter sport and it’s didn’t usually snow cold to Barcelona so it’s just a holiday sport to you. 

For a few hours you were gone, Mami and Olga were relaxing, brain storming ideas on how to tell you the big news. Well, the two big events that were going to be happening. They decided that after lunch was the best time to do so. 

“Marquita, we need to talk to you about something.” It was Olga who spoke, wiping her hands on the paper towel. 

“Am I in trouble?”

“No Bebé! Not at all. We are moving.”

“What? Where?” 

“Sant Just Desvern. Into a house, one with more bedrooms, a backyard. Closer to your new school and to the Joan.” 

“Oh. Am I, am I coming too?” If alexia wasn’t so wrapped up in all the big changes that were about to happen she would’ve realised the extent of the question. 

“OF course you are Mari! You get first pick on what bedroom you want, and we will go shopping for however you want to decorate it.” 

It went silent after that. There was still  trauma and anxiety about what happened to you before alexia and Jenni adopted you. Sometimes, it would creep up. Usually you did a good job of communicating it, either with your Mami and mama or with Tia Maria or Alba, even abuela. But this felt too big, too scary. 

For the last eight years, that apartment had been your home. It’s where Alexia and Jenni bought you home too, it’s where Nala lived, where mama lived and now, now you were moving into a new house that Nala never lived in and Mama wouldn’t be. 

The next three days flew by, you do more skiing, ice skating, sledding, all alone. You didn’t know the reason behind your Mami not letting Olga join, you knew your Mami wouldn’t go ice skating but she did join the sledding. If either woman had slowed down they would’ve realised that you were pulling away. 

When you arrived back to Barcelona on New Year’s Eve, your Mami told you there would be another present for you to open with your abuela and tia. You were slightly confused, having already gotten everything on your Wishlist. So as you sat there on the couch, your abuela and tia next to you, Olga and your Mami in front with three boxes on your laps, you were still confused as to what it could be. 

You opened it when they said you could, inside the box it contained 3 things. A photo of an ultrasound (which you didn’t understand), a baby jersey with ‘Putellas 11’ on the back and a shirt that said ‘world’s best big sister’. But you completely missed the shirt. Your Mami had put the shirt in the box the wrong way around.

It took a moment for everything to understand and then the chaos unfolded. Abuela and tia alba were crying, hugging both Olga and your Mami while you just sat there. 

“Mariquita? Do you understand?” Your Mami asked as she sat in front of you. 

In your mind, the blob was cancer, the jersey was confusing though. “Olga has cancer? Why are we celebrating that? How will I be a big sister if Olga has-“ it clicked in your brain, the blob wasn’t cancer it was a baby, “oh. Not cancer, a baby.” 

“Yes a baby.” Your Mami chuckled, “we are having a baby and you’ll be a big sister.” 

“Cool.” You gave a thumbs up towards Olga, unsure of what else to do. 

“Cool? That’s it?” 

“What else am I meant to say? Good luck?” 

“Jeez ale, she really is your daughter.” Alba laughed, ruffling your hair. It was no secret alexia was awkward and it seems you truly inherited that trait. 

Both Olga and alexia sat down on the couch next to you, Eli snapping a photo of the three of you. Your mind was full of anxiety. Anxiety about moving house, about the new school and needing to make new friends but mostly about the baby. 

As you lay in bed, the clock on your bedside table illuminating 3.13am, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling. The last time a baby was on the way was when you were in your last foster home, they were meant to adopt you, citing that they couldn’t have kids. Then they fell pregnant, cancelling the adoption and sending you back. You were only four then but it filled you with doubt. Would your Mami and Olga send you away too? Would you go to mamas or back into a foster home? 

Those thoughts consumed you for months. When you finally moved into the new house, you picked the room the furthest from your Mami and Olga’s room. You turned extra quiet. In your mind, if you were quiet then they would forget you were there. They wouldn’t send you away because they wouldn’t remember you were there. 

It back fired though, of course it did. Mama was coming to Madrid for Easter, your Mami agreed that you would go to Madrid and spend a few days with her then come back home and do Easter with the Putellas-Rios family. 

For four days you forgot about the impending doom that was waiting for you at home. For four days your mama and her family treated you like a princess, spoiling you and reminding you of how loved you were. 

On the flight home you turned quiet again, your mama noticed, pulling you up on it straight away. 

“Princess, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing mama.” 

“You can tell me. You don’t have to lie bebé.” 

“Imscaredillbesentaway.” You said it so fast, your heart beating out of your chest, making you want to throw up. 

“Can you say that again for me? More slow this time.” 

You took a deep breath, refusing to look at your mama, “I’m scared I’ll be sent away when the baby comes. Mami and Olga won’t want me anymore.” 

“It won’t happen. You’re here to stay, forever. Why would you think that?” 

“It happened before. Before you and Mami. So it’ll happen again.” 

“No! No it won’t. You’re not going anywhere, you’re our daughter. Mine, mamis, and Olga’s. You’re our first baby, no one in this world would be able to take you.” Jenni spoke with so much conviction that apart of you believed her. 

“Do you promise?” 

“I promise. On everything. On my career, on your mamis. I promise.” Jenni’s heart broke at your lack of believing. She knew you took change hard but had hoped that as you grew up, you were more welcome to it. She guesses you just hide it easier. 

When you both arrived at the Barcelona airport and made it through security, Alexia and Olga were both waiting. Big smiles on their faces as their excitement to have you back was evident. You on the other hand, tensed the minute you saw them. Jenni knew she only had a limited amount of time to talk to alexia before her flight back to Madrid. 

“Ale, I need to talk to you.” She pulled alexia’s arm, trying to get her away from Olga and you. Olga noticed and nudged you away from them. 

“Everything alright?” 

“No. I know you’re excited to be having a baby with Olga but I’m worried you’re forgetting about y/n.” 

“What are you talking about? How could I forget her?” 

“She’s scared you’ll send her away when the baby comes Ale. She said it. Look at her, really look at her.” They both turned to look at you. You were hitting your hand against your leg, something you did when you were anxious. Your eyes stayed trained on the ground, refusing to look at Olga when she spoke. “That’s not the same kid I just spent 4 days with.” 

It seemed that both Olga and Alexia realised at the same time. Olga looked up with wide eyes, slightly panicked at the fact you weren’t engaging with her as usual, alexia on the other hand looked at you with her eyes full of tears. 

Arriving home didn’t bring you comfort, going to your room at the end of the house didn’t bring the calmness you thought it would. Instead it left you feeling empty and sad. 

The next few days were hard. Your Mami and Olga tried to talk to you, even going as far to get Mapi involved with Pina, Patri and Cata but nothing worked. You were stuck in a rut of anxiety and scaredness. 

Olga finally got you to crack, your Mami regretfully had to go away again for a game. Meaning she’d leave you while you were clearly going through something and she’d miss an ultrasound with Olga. 

The morning of the ultrasound, Olga all but dragged you out of the house. She too was feeling a mix of emotions. Despite both alexia and Jenni saying she was just as much as a parental figure to you as they were, she couldn’t help but feel on the outside. She hoped this baby would form as a bridge to you. Something you had more in common, but instead it was causing a wedge between all of you. 

You both cried at the ultrasound, seemingly for different reasons but at the time, Olga was optimistic that it was for the same reason. Seeing the baby. 

When you returned home you disappeared to your room very quickly, only to return with a duffle bag and backpack. 

“Can you take me to Eli’s please?” 

“What?” Olga was confused, Alexia never said anything about you staying there while she was gone. 

“You have your kid. You don’t want me here, Mami doesn’t want me here, so can you please take me? If you can’t it’s fine. I know how to get there.” 

“Y/n no. I’m not taking you to Eli’s-“ it came out a lot harsher than she anticipated. She realised as soon as the words left her mouth, “I’m sorry. What I meant is, this is your home. Now and forever. It doesn’t matter if I’m having a baby, no one can ever replace you. You’re our mariquita. You belong here, in this family.” 

“People have said that before and then they change their minds. This is what’s best. I leave and you and Mami can have the baby in peace. It’s okay Olga. I’ll catch the bus.” You were gone before she could argue. 

You heard the apartment door close behind you, Olga’s footsteps approaching as fast as she could, “mariquita please wait!” The fire staircase locked behind you as you ran down the stairs towards the exit. You knew it locked, you knew Olga would be stuck waiting for a lift, so it gave you time to figure how to get the bus. 

Olga raced back to the apartment only to realise her keys were inside. The door was locked and she was on the wrong side of the door. As if this whole thing couldn’t get any worse. 

In panic she rang alexia, which was the worst idea she could’ve had and as soon as alexia started to panic, she hung up. You said you were going to Eli’s, so she rang Eli who then rang alba who then rang the rest of her family. Soon enough the entire Putellas family was out hunting for you. 

You had a phone, she could’ve rang you, but in her panic she forgot about that. Alexia didn’t though, she rang you. Multiple times. Each time you watched it ring out, too afraid of her confirming the fact that she was going to ‘return you’. 

After what felt like hours, you finally arrived to Mollet. The sun was setting so you knew you had to go fast. Eli was there when you arrived, running out the front door when she saw you come up the driveway. 

“Mariquita! Dios mío you scared me. You scared us all! What were you thinking!” 

“Mami and Olga don’t want me anymore. You know how to book flights so I wanted to come here. Olga said she wouldn’t take me so I took the bus.” 

“They don’t want to get rid of you! What are you talking about?” Eli was in disbelief. She couldn’t believe that you truly felt that way, or that her daughter would give you that idea. 

“It’s happened before! Why aren’t people understanding! Mami and Olga are finally having a baby, making their own family. Their OWN. I’m not apart of that. This family is no longer mine, and that’s okay. If you won’t help me get to mama, I’ll figure it out myself.” 

“No. You will come inside and we will wait for your Mami and Olga. You will eat dinner and have a shower but you’re not leaving and I am not booking you a flight.” 

You ate in silence, much to Eli’s dismay. She tried and tried to get more answers out of you, giving up when she realised you wouldn’t talk anymore. Seeing you this way, being selectively mute, reminded her of the first time she met you. 

You were a tiny four year old. Both alexia and alba were at least double your weight when they were your age. It shocked Eli, alexia had warned her but no amount of warning could stop the feelings that she felt when she saw you. 

Both Eli and Alba had been waiting patiently to meet you. They were told from the beginning that you were different, suffered from trauma that neither Alexia nor Jenni fully understood. To Eli, you were perfect. 

The social worker warned Alexia and Jenni about the trauma you had endured and that they weren’t sure about how much you remembered or what you saw. When things got overwhelming you went mute. It was a coping mechanism and over the years, with lots of therapy and love, that habit disappeared. 

As you stood behind Alexia’s legs, peaking through every so often, you looked tiny. There were healing bruises on your arms. Not in the way kids normally get bruises. 

It took a long time for you to say anything more than “hola” to her. She remembers the day like it was yesterday. You had scored a goal against Mapi and you were so excited. Smashing through the front door, without evening taking your shoes off. 

Eli cried that night. She cried about how happy you looked, how happy you were and how you actually spoke. 

It was now the opposite, you weren’t that shy little four year anymore. But old habits die hard. Sometimes it’s easier to go mute than to focus on what was truly happening. 

Olga was waiting in the spare room when you got out of the shower. Or the room that used to be alexia’s room. Littered with photos of her and her friends as they grew up, a few of her and your mama, alba too. It was a time capsule, for you it felt overbearing. You didn’t have friends like she did, you’d have a sibling in four months but it wouldn’t be the same as her and alba. 

“Mariquita. We need to have a proper conversation. I want you to tell me everything. If you truly can’t, I will wait for your Mami, but you need to talk. No more pretending everything is fine.” 

“Okay.” You say on the floor, your knees pressed against your chest, your back hard against the wall. “What do you want me to say first?” 

“How did you feel when we told you we were having a baby?” 

“Scared. Excited. Anxious. Jealous.” 

“Can you elaborate please?” 

“Before Mami and mama, I was with this other couple. They couldn’t have kids for whatever reason and they were going to adopt me. A few weeks before they found out they were having a baby and cancelled the adoption. Literally just palmed me off. Then the kids at the group home would say how no one wanted me and whatever. I didn’t think I believed it but I guess I did. 

You and Mami would have this experience, you being pregnant I mean, Mami and mama didn’t have that with me, so I feel like this baby is better than me in that sense. Mama is so far away and I was scared that if you decided to get rid of me that she wouldn’t get here in time and I’d just be on the street.

I picked the room furthest from the others because I thought, I thought if I did that you would forget I was there. It would be sad to be forgotten but I would have somewhere safe to stay. 

Then you said you wouldn’t bring me here and I panicked. I thought someone was going to come and take me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Sobs racked your body, and for the first time Olga saw you as the little girl Alexia described. Broken, scared and tiny. Right then in her mind, you weren’t the twelve year old she’d grown to love, you were a tiny four year old. Scared of what was to come. 

“No Mariquita. No sorry. You were scared, that’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared, anxious and whatever else you want to feel. You’re allowed to feel it all but you’re safe here, with you Mami, mama and with me. Yes, this will be the first baby I give birth too, but it’s not my first kid.” You looked up at her, not realising she had moved in front of you, “you’re my first kid Mariquita. You’re as much my daughter as you are to your Mami and mama. I know it is a big change, you’re scared and truthfully I am scared. Terrified actually. But I know you’re going to be the best big sister ever and this baby is lucky to have you. I’m lucky to have you.” 

You let yourself fall into Olga’s arms. You were both crying, hanging onto each other for dear life. When alexia arrived to her mamis house, all guns blazing, she was met with a stern Eli. Giving her daughter an ear full about the way she spoke to Olga. Olga however didn’t hold a grudge. She knew Alexia was panicking, she was also panicking. 

“Ale, she needs therapy, she needs help. Don’t be mad at her, you can be mad at me but not her.”

“I’m not mad. I’m sorry, I was just so scared. I didn’t want to leave as it was and then I did and this happens? What do we do olgi?” 

“We start by moving her room, closer to ours.” Alexia gave her girlfriend a confused look, “she took that room in case we didn’t want her anymore. She’d be far away so she’d stay out of the way and have somewhere to stay.” 

Alexia let the tears fall, wrapping an arm around Olga as they wanted you sleep. “How did things get so fucked up?” 

“We will fix it. All of it.” Instead of waking you and leaving for their own house, both alexia and Olga climbed into bed with you. The game was the last thing on Alexia’s mind. All she wanted was for her family to be happy, for you to be happy. 

Fix it they did. It started with moving your room, something you were still on edge about, even with all the reassurance. Then it was the therapy, twice a week. Once with the school counsellor and once with the clubs psychologist. 

Neither Alexia nor Olga spoke about the baby around you, both families were also on strict instructions not too. Both therapists agreed that it would be better for now, if you wanted to know, you would ask. It wasn’t that you hated this unborn baby, it was that you were still scared about being ‘returned’. 

Olga had an ultrasound coming up, it was to find out the gender and your Mami wanted you there. They had put off finding out the gender for the last two months because they wanted you there to enjoy it. She wanted this to be a family event, something that would bring you all join but she also knew not to push you. 

“Mari, bebé, can you come here for a sec?” 

“Mami I promise I’ll clean my room!”

“It’s not about that.” Your Mami laughed. “I want to ask you a question. If you don’t feel comfortable and want to stay here or with Alba that’s fine. There’s no pressure at all. Okay?”  

“Okay?”

“Today Olga has an ultrasound to find out the gender. I want to invite you, again there’s no pre-“

“Yeah I’ll come.” To you, it was no longer a big deal. You were mostly excited for the baby, still a little nervous about the change. Your Mami was sat gobsmacked on the couch as you walked away, finally going to clean your room. 

Olga got in the car, completely unaware of your presence until you asked a simple question, to which she let out a bloody curling scream, clutching her chest. All you and your Mami could do was laugh. She didn’t ask any questions about what you were doing, only giving Alexia a look that said ‘we will talk later.’ 

‘A boy.’ The technician announced. 

A flurry of movement happened in that moment. Your Mami had pulled you towards her and Olga, a group hug forming. There were tears, happy tears. And when your Mami looked at you sadly you made sure to emphasise that were happy. 

There was a question bobbing around in your head though. How did Olga get pregnant. Obviously you were given a simple sex talk in school and by both your mothers, but it never occurred to you that two women would have sex differently. That was something you would need to google when you got home, not wanting to deal with the awkwardness of asking your Mami or Olga. 

“Ice cream time?” Your Mami smiled as she pulled you into her side. 

“I definitely want ice cream.” Olga piped up. 

You interlinked your hands with Olga’s, swinging them, laughing and smiling as you went along for the journey to the ice cream parlour. 

As all three of you sat there laughing and eating your ice cream, all alexia could think about is how lucky she was. There would be more bumps in the road, but right now everyone was happy. You were laughing and smiling with Olga, it was definitely a sight for sore eyes. 

The following two months were basically spent fussing over Olga and her ever growing baby bump. She referred to you and your Mami as ‘the twins’. Forever asking if she needed something or offered to get it for her, even going so far as to guide her to the bathroom when Alexia was away for a game. 

You were certainly the mediator between them somedays. Alexia going on about how the baby doesn’t need more clothes, or shoes, or toys but you would side with Olga. Or when Alexia wanted Olga to stay in bed to relax, you were at her side encouraging her to do so. 

The biggest surprise came when you asked what the birth plan was. 

“I don’t know. Push it out and hope I don’t poop?” 

Alexia was bewildered, “why do you ask? How do you know what a birth plan is?” 

“I googled it.” You shrugged, “I’ve also watched birthing videos on YouTube. You’ll probably shit yourself.” 

“Not helpful!” 

“Is that something you want to be involved in?” Your Mami asked as she rang her fingers through your hair, making a mental note to book you in for a haircut soon. 

“If that’s what Olga wants.” 

“I do. But you don’t have to. It’ll probably be gross.” 

“Oh it’ll definitely be gross.” Both adults laughed as you scrunched your nose. 

“Can I leave if it gets too much?” 

“Of course Mari! Eli and my mami will be in the waiting room.” 

“Along with half the team no doubt.” 

It was settled, you would be there to watch your little brother come into this world. The option to leave was there if you wanted to take it. There was truly only one question still in your mind: how did Olga get pregnant?

As the final month began, everyone around was on edge, expect for you. You have read everything, watch hours and hours of YouTube videos. You were ready. Emotionally, you were better. Talking candidly with your mami and mama whenever they asked, Olga too. 

If you needed to deliver the baby in the lounge room, you could do that. If you needed to drive her to the hospital, illegally, you could do that. Thanks to bullying Mapi into teaching you how to drive when she was supposed to be watching you for a date night. 

You and Olga had secretly bought and packed a second hospital bag, knowing the minute Olga’s water broke, your mami would be insane. And she was. 

A week after the baby’s due date, Olga’s water broke. She was sitting outside on the chairs enjoying the sun when it happened. Her contractions weren’t as frequent as the hospital required, once every 15 or so minutes. But as soon as she told Alexia, she went crazy. 

Both of you found it amusing, watching her run around the house trying to find things she would need, offering Olga the hair straightener, hair drier, a scrubbing brush? She wouldn’t relax until you called your abuela. When Eli arrived, Olga’s contractions were 12 minutes apart, Alexia looked like she was going to throw up, pass out and cry all at once. 

Even though she was running around like a headless chook, every time a contraction hit she was right there by Olga’s side. Helping her breathe through it. For someone so calm and collected when it came to football, she was truly the opposite right now. Your abuela couldn’t help but laugh when she saw what her daughter was doing. 

Between every contraction Alexia was off cleaning something, as if they had not organised for the cleaner to come while Olga was in labour. 

“Mami? What are you doing?” Curiosity got the best of you, finding your mami in the wardrobe going through her sock drawer. 

“Mari! Good you’re here, help me go through these please. I think some of these socks are yours.” 

“No mami.” You laughed at her truly panicked state, you couldn’t wait to tell Mapi about it, “Olga’s in labour and you’re in here organising your socks? Do you think that’s a good use of your time?” 

“¡Dios mío! You’re right! I need to clean your bathroom!”

“Mami no! You need to be with Olga. You’re being slightly insane right now.” 

“I’m panicking okay? I don’t know what to do!” 

“You should probably breathe and put the hospital bag in the car. It’s in the hallway closet.” 

“No, it’s next to my side of the bed. I made sure it was close.”

“Oh nah we aren’t taking that one. Olga bought another because she knew you would panic. Vamos! We are having a baby.” You smiled and skipped out of the room. 

After a very long 16 hours, it was finally time for Olga to push. Everyone was exhausted. Labour looked rough, the videos you had watched didn’t make it same as bad but it was bad. 

As Olga’s legs opened and while she was mid push, you decided to look. Why? You had no idea. 

“I’ve never seen a vagina before and that’s disgusting.” You looked like you were going to pass out. A clip to the back of your head and a stern look from your mami had you mumbling a sorry to a laughing Olga. 

It didn’t take much longer for your baby brother to be born. You were crying, Olga was crying your mami too but most importantly, your baby brother was crying. 

Truthfully, a few hours ago you were getting anxious about how the aftermath would be, but when Olga reached out for your hand, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, you knew everything would be okay. 

Your mami sent you home with Eli to shower and get some sleep. There were so many questions in your head, ones you wanted to google and ones you just wanted to ask. After a good feed and sleep, you were back to the hospital the next morning. 

Your mami was pacing the room when you got there, looking anxious and sweaty. 

“Hi? Can I come in?” You asked shyly. 

“Mari! Oh bebé, of course you can. Come here, hug me.” She squeezed you so tight and you were hitting her back to get her to stop. 

“Mami. Mami! Can’t breathe!” You spattered out. 

“Oops sorry!” She slightly pushed you away. Olga was nursing your baby brother. He looked so small, smaller than you imagine. 

“Do you want to hold him?” Olga asked, noticing you were staring. 

“Can I?” 

Your mami walked you through it, one hand supporting his head, the other his body. 

“What’s his name?” 

“Rio Jaume Putellas.” She fiddled with the beanie on his head, “rio for Olga’s last name, Jaume for my papi, Putellas for you.” Alexia wanted to cry, the way you looked at the baby was the same way she looked at Alba. Sure, there was a twelve year age gap between you and baby Rio, but that look told her everything she needed to know. You would protect him with your life, love him with your entire heart, and annoy him like any big sister would. 

Friends and family slowly trickled into the room throughout the day, when Ingrid and Mapi arrived they were so overcome with emotion that Mapi was crying. A big ugly cry. For you, it was funny. 

“I have a question.” All four adults turned to you, “I know how babies are made with a man and a woman but with two woman do you use that strap thing that has a button to make the stuff come out? I don’t really understand.” 

Everyone’s faces dropped, if baby Rio wasn’t in the bassinet, you were sure he would be on the floor. 

“What the fuck.” Mapi was the first person to say anything. 

“Y/n how do you know what that is?” Your mami used your first name, something she didn’t do very often. 

“I googled it? I wanted to be prepared for all of this.” 

“Your iPad is being taken away from you.” Was all Olga said. Poor Ingrid was still in disbelief. 

“No ipad, no phone, no tv. Anything that has the internet is gone. Absolutely not.” 

When alba walked into the tense room and saw you mami pacing, once again, she was confused. “Ah what happened?” 

“I asked if they used the strap thing that has stuff come out of it to make baby rio. Now they are broken.” You shrugged, waving your hand around at them. 

“A strap thing with stuff coming out of it?” Alba repeated back, not understanding what you were saying. “Oh. OH!” It clicked. Then she laughed, tears coming out of her eyes, stomach hurting, kind of laugh. 

“This isn’t funny Alba!” Alexia gritted. 

“Lesbian sex talk time! Are we making a PowerPoint?” A pillow was through at her, this time from Olga. 

Thankfully both your abuela and Olga’s mum arrived so the subject was changed very quickly. For you- no answers were supplied and your mami seemingly forgot about the no internet rule very quickly. 

Once everyone was home, it was weird. You weren’t 100% sure what to do, every time the baby cried you just stared at him. Unsure if you were allowed to help. One morning when it was just you and Olga in the kitchen you asked. 

“I want to help but I don’t know what to do.” 

“You’re helping Mari.” You gave her a confused look, “you make coffee for us in the morning, you changed our bed sheets the other night, every morning I come out here it’s clean. Because you do that. You’re helping in ways that are unimaginable but I want you to remember that you’re twelve. You don’t have to do all this. My mami, Eli, your mami, they can all do it.” 

She pulled you into her side, kissing your cheek. Olga was grateful for you, your mami was grateful for you, and you were grateful for them. For being patient, not getting rid of you, for loving you. 

When you rocked baby Rio to sleep, you reminded him that he was loved, safe and wanted. Something you didn’t want him to forget. 

Alexia would often cry when she saw you holding him with a big smile on her face. Or when she saw you doing tummy time with him because he was ‘lonely on the ground by himself’. 

Your family was full. Hearts were full. Love was never far away. 

[herrscherofinsanity]

A Christmas Promise

Karina plans to spend the holidays with her girlfriend... until everything comes apart.

A bit of angst, a bit of fluff

Karina (Yu Jimin) x fem!reader

Word count: 2.9k

My Christmas gift to you guys; happy holidays!

____________________

Los Angeles

y/n stared at her phone, her fingers hovering over the call button. The message from her manager still lingered on the screen, glaring at her like a cruel reminder:

"The Christmas charity concert is non-negotiable, y/n. It’s the biggest event of the season. You’re the headliner."

It wasn’t just about the concert—it was about her image, her fans, and the responsibility she carried as a so called “household name”. But this wasn’t just any Christmas; it was supposed to be her first real holiday with Jimin. A private, intimate celebration after months of stolen moments, late-night phone calls, and whispered "I love yous."

With a deep breath, she pressed the call button. The phone rang twice before Jimin’s familiar, warm voice answered.

“Hey, sunshine,” Jimin said, her tone instantly brightening y/n’s mood.

“Hi, babe,” y/n replied softly, though her usual spark was missing. She heard Jimin pause, as if sensing the shift in her tone.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin asked, her voice laced with concern.

The younger girl closed her eyes, wishing she could say anything else. “I... I can’t come to Seoul for Christmas.”

The silence that followed was deafening. y/n could imagine Jimin gripping her phone tightly, her lips pressed into a thin line as she processed the words.

“You promised…” Jimin finally said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” y/n replied, her voice trembling. “I tried to push back, but it’s the charity concert. I have to be there.”

Jimin’s silence stretched again, but when she spoke, she forced her voice to remain steady. “I get it. Your fans need you, and this is important. It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine, and they both knew it.

“Jimin—” y/n started, but the older girl cut her off gently.

“It’s okay, sunshine. Really,” Jimin said, though there was a tightness in her voice. “We’ll figure it out. Maybe next year…”

y/n felt her heart crack. “I’ll make this up to you, I promise.”

“I know you will,” Jimin replied softly, before adding, “I should go. The girls are waiting for me.”

“Okay,” y/n said, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Merry Christmas, angel.”

“Merry Christmas, sunshine.”

As the call ended, y/n stared at her screen, guilt gnawing at her. She had never hated her career more than in that moment.

-----

Meanwhile in Seoul…

Jimin sat on the dorm couch, staring blankly at the Christmas lights twinkling on the small tree the group had decorated earlier that week. The room was filled with the smell of gingerbread and hot chocolate, the warmth of the season radiating from every corner, but to her, it all felt hollow.

She barely noticed Aeri plopping down beside her, a mug of hot chocolate in hand. “Hey, what’s with the long face? I thought you’d be buzzing with holiday spirit.”

Jimin tried to muster a smile, but it fell flat. “y/n can’t come home. She’s stuck doing a charity concert.”

Aeri frowned, setting her mug down. “That sucks. I know how much you were looking forward to seeing her.”

Aeri doesn’t point out the fact that Seoul has never been home to y/n. She understands Jimin is referring to herself.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, her voice barely audible.

From across the room, Minjeong looked up from the gingerbread house she was decorating—or rather, destroying. “Wait, she canceled on Christmas? That’s rough, unnie.”

Yizhuo, ever the nice one, chimed in. “Let me guess, you’re pretending you’re okay but secretly dying inside?”

“Yizhuo!” Aeri scolded, but Jimin let out a weak laugh.

“She’s not wrong,” Jimin admitted, running a hand through her hair. “I just... I really wanted this. Just one Christmas together.”

Minjeong walked over and plopped down on the other side of Jimin, looping an arm around her shoulder. “She’ll make it up to you. y/n adores you, you know that.”

“Yeah, but it still hurts,” Jimin confessed, her voice cracking.

The three girls exchanged glances. Aeri reached out and squeezed Jimin’s hand. “We’ll get you through this, okay? No moping around. We’ve got cookies to bake, movies to watch, and—”

“Hot chocolate to spill on each other,” Yizhuo added, smirking.

“Hey!” Minjeong shot back, glaring at the youngest.

Despite herself, Jimin smiled faintly at their antics. “Thanks, guys. I appreciate it.”

-----

y/n stood backstage at the sprawling venue, the air buzzing with energy as staff members rushed around with last-minute preparations. The massive Christmas charity concert was only hours away, and she was the headliner. It was everything she’d worked for—but tonight, her heart wasn’t in it.

Her manager walked up to her, clipboard in hand. “y/n, the soundcheck’s in five minutes. You good?”

She forced a tight smile and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But she wasn’t fine. She could barely focus, her mind wandering back to Seoul. She pictured Jimin sitting by the tree, sipping hot chocolate, her smile dimmed by disappointment.

Her chest tightened as she adjusted the microphone in her hand. This was supposed to be their first real holiday together, and she had ruined it. She glanced at the bouquet of lilies resting on her dressing room table, originally meant for Jimin. It felt like a cruel reminder of what she was missing.

As the soundcheck began, y/n pushed through the motions, her usual passion absent. When her manager finally gave her a break, she retreated to her dressing room and pulled out her phone.

Her thumb hovered over Jimin’s contact. She wanted to call her, to hear her voice and apologize again. But she hesitated, unsure if she deserved to interrupt Jimin’s night with yet another reminder of her absence. Instead, she typed a quick message:

“I miss you, more than words can say. Merry Christmas, my love.”

She stared at the screen, debating whether to send it. Before she could second-guess herself, she pressed send.

-----

Jimin lay sprawled on the dorm couch, her phone resting on her chest. The girls had tried their best to cheer her up with a night of baking, board games, and Christmas karaoke, but the void in her heart remained.

She stared at the twinkling lights of the tree, the colors blurring together as tears threatened to fall. Her phone buzzed, and her heart leapt. She grabbed it, hoping it was y/n.

It was.

“I miss you, more than words can say. Merry Christmas, my love.”

Her lips trembled as she reread the message, the pain of missing her girlfriend mixing with the warmth of knowing she was thinking of her.

“Who is it?” Yizhuo asked, peeking over Jimin’s shoulder.

“No one,” Jimin said quickly, clutching the phone to her chest.

The youngest rolled her eyes. “It’s your wife, isn’t it?”

“Leave her alone, Yizhuo,” Aeri called from the kitchen. “Let her pine in peace.”

“I’m not pining,” Jimin protested weakly, earning a chorus of laughter from her members.

She sighed and sent a reply:

“I miss you too. I hope tonight goes well. Merry Christmas, sunshine.”

As soon as she hit send, she placed the phone face down and stared at the ceiling. She wanted to be happy for y/n’s success, to support her as a good partner should, but the ache in her chest made it hard to focus on anything else.

-----

y/n’s phone vibrated, and she grabbed it immediately, her heart racing.

“I miss you too. I hope tonight goes well. Merry Christmas, sunshine.”

She smiled faintly, though the sadness lingered. She wanted to believe those words were enough, but deep down, she knew Jimin was hurting as much as she was.

Her manager’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “y/n, you’re up in five.”

“Right,” she said, slipping her phone into her bag. She adjusted her outfit in the mirror, plastered on a smile, and stepped out onto the stage.

The roar of the crowd was deafening, the energy electric. She waved, smiled, and began her set, her voice flawless as always. But as she sang her holiday ballad, the lyrics hit a little too close to home.

"Your love is the only gift I need..."

The crowd cheered, but her heart ached.

-----

Jimin stayed on the couch long after her phone’s screen dimmed. The dorm was quieter now; Yizhuo had finally stopped singing carols at the top of her lungs, and Aeri had retreated to her room with a mug of mulled wine. Only Minjeong remained, silently scrolling through her phone across the room.

Jimin traced the outline of her phone case absentmindedly. Every fiber of her being wanted to call her girlfriend, to hear her voice and feel close to her in some small way. But she resisted. y/n had a packed schedule, and she didn’t want to add to her stress.

“Jimin-ah,” Minjeong called softly. “Are you okay?”

Jimin blinked and sat up, attempting a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Minjeong said, setting her phone aside. “You’ve been moping all night. It’s Christmas, unnie. You should be happy.”

“I know,” Jimin replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… I was really looking forward to seeing her, you know?”

Minjeong nodded, her expression sympathetic. “I get it. But you’ll see her soon, right? It’s not like she’s gone forever.”

Jimin chuckled dryly. “It feels like it sometimes.”

Minjeong hesitated before offering a suggestion. “Why don’t we go out? There’s still time to catch the lights in Myeongdong. It might help take your mind off things.”

Before Jimin could respond, Aeri poked her head out of her room. “Lights in Myeongdong? I’m in.”

“And I’ll drag Yizhuo if I have to,” Minjeong added with a grin.

Jimin hesitated. The idea of stepping outside into the bustling city streets felt overwhelming, but the thought of sitting in the dorm, wallowing, wasn’t any better.

“Fine,” she said at last, earning a cheer from her members.

The streets of Myeongdong were alive with holiday cheer, the air filled with laughter, chatter, and the scent of roasted chestnuts. Festive lights adorned every building, casting a warm glow over the bustling crowd.

Jimin trailed behind her members, her hands stuffed in her coat pockets. She couldn’t help but compare the scene to the quiet, intimate Christmas she’d imagined spending with y/n.

Aeri suddenly linked arms with her. “You’re not allowed to look sad tonight, okay? We’re going to have fun whether you like it or not.”

Jimin managed a small smile. “I’ll try.”

“Try harder,” Yizhuo teased, tugging on Jimin’s scarf. “You’re killing the vibe.”

They stopped at a vendor selling hotteok, the warm, sugary treats bringing a brief smile to Jimin’s face. As she bit into the crispy pastry, she felt a pang of nostalgia. y/n would’ve loved this.

“Let me guess,” Minjeong said, watching her closely. “You’re thinking about her again.”

Jimin sighed. “I can’t help it. Everything reminds me of her.”

Aeri patted her shoulder. “That’s love for you. But hey, at least you’ve got us tonight. We’re not y/n, but we’re pretty great company.”

“You guys are the best,” Jimin admitted, her smile finally reaching her eyes.

As the night wore on, Jimin started to feel lighter. She even laughed when Yizhuo tripped over a snowbank, scattering her snacks across the pavement. But as they walked back to the dorm, the weight of y/n’s absence settled over her once more.

She stared up at the sky, the stars twinkling like the city lights. “Merry Christmas, my heart,” she whispered, hoping y/n could somehow feel her words.

-----

The dorm was quiet when the girls finally returned from Myeongdong. Aeri and Minjeong were sprawled on the couch, arguing over a Christmas movie to watch, while Yizhuo was humming in the kitchen as she attempted to make hot cocoa.

Jimin kicked off her boots and sank into the armchair, pulling a blanket over herself. Her heart still ached, but the night out with her members had helped dull the sting.

“Unnie, you want hot cocoa?” Yizhuo called from the kitchen.

“No, thanks,” Jimin replied, her voice soft.

“Suit yourself!” Yizhuo sang, returning to her humming.

Jimin closed her eyes and leaned back, letting the warmth of the blanket and the faint chatter of her members lull her into a calm state.

The peace was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Which one of you ordered delivery on Christmas?” Aeri wondered aloud.

“Maybe it’s a fan gift,” Minjeong said as she got up to answer it.

When she opened the door, she froze, her eyes wide.

“Who is it?” Yizhuo called, peeking out of the kitchen. She stopped in her tracks, her jaw dropping.

Jimin cracked an eye open, curious about the commotion. “What’s going on?”

Minjeong stepped aside, and there, standing in the doorway, was y/n.

Dressed in a chic winter coat and scarf, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder, y/n looked slightly winded, as though she’d come straight from the airport, but her smile was radiant, her eyes sparkling as they found Jimin.

“Hi, gorgeous,” y/n said, her voice warm and soft.

Jimin sat up, her blanket falling to the floor. “y/n?”

The room fell silent as the members watched the scene unfold.

y/n stepped inside, setting her bag down. “I couldn’t stay away. I told you I’d move heaven and earth to be here, and I meant it.”

For a moment, Jimin didn’t move. She simply stared, as if she couldn’t believe her girlfriend was really there, she was supposed to be in LA. Then, in an instant, she was on her feet, crossing the room and throwing her arms around y/n with enough force to lift the younger girl.

“You’re here,” Jimin whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re really here.”

y/n hugged her tightly, burying her face in Jimin’s shoulder. “I’m here,” she murmured. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

The other members exchanged knowing smiles before quietly slipping out of the room to give them privacy.

They sat together on the couch, the soft glow of the Christmas tree lights surrounding them. y/n held Jimin’s hand, her thumb gently brushing over her knuckles.

“How did you manage this?” Jimin asked, still in awe.

y/n chuckled. “It wasn’t easy. I had to rearrange a lot of things and promise a lot of favors. But I couldn’t imagine spending Christmas without you.”

Jimin’s heart swelled, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I missed you so much.”

The younger girl leaned closer, her forehead resting against Jimin’s. “I missed you too… more than words can say.”

For a moment, they simply sat there, lost in each other’s presence. The world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of their connection.

“Merry Christmas, angel” y/n whispered, her lips brushing against Jimin’s in a tender kiss.

“Merry Christmas, sunshine” Jimin replied, her voice filled with love.

-----

The following morning, the dorm was filled with the smell of pancakes and the sound of laughter. y/n, still in her cozy sweater and pajama pants, was seated at the dining table, watching as Yizhuo and Minjeong bickered over who got to flip the pancakes next. Aeri was perched on the couch, sipping her coffee, smirking at the chaos.

Jimin emerged from her room, her hair tousled and her face glowing with happiness. y/n couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her.

“Merry Christmas, my love,” y/n greeted softly.

Jimin’s cheeks turned pink as she crossed the room, pressing a kiss to y/n’s forehead. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

The moment was interrupted by Yizhuo’s exasperated voice. “Unnie, tell Minjeong that she’s burning the pancakes!”

Minjeong whirled around, spatula in hand. “I am not! They’re perfectly golden!”

“They’re crispy,” Yizhuo argued, pointing at the edges.

y/n and Jimin laughed as the bickering continued. Aeri rolled her eyes playfully, setting her coffee down, “Some of us want to eat breakfast.”

“Okay, enough,” Jimin said, stepping into the kitchen. “y/n and I will handle breakfast. You two can set the table.”

Minjeong pouted. “But I wanted to—”

“Table. Now,” Jimin said firmly, though her tone was light.

y/n joined her at the stove, the two of them working in perfect harmony as they flipped pancakes and prepared the rest of the meal. Every so often, y/n would steal a glance at Jimin, her heart full of gratitude.

When breakfast was finally ready, they all gathered around the table, their plates piled high with pancakes, fruit, and syrup. The sound of laughter and clinking forks filled the air as they enjoyed the meal together.

At one point, Yizhuo raised her glass of orange juice. “To y/n, for making our Christmas extra special and stopping Jimin-unnie from rotting on the couch!”

The others joined in, raising their glasses. “To y/n!”

y/n blushed, glancing at Jimin, who gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” y/n said softly. “But really, I’m just glad to be here with all of you.”

The rest of the day was spent exchanging gifts, watching holiday movies, and playing games. y/n fit right in, her laughter blending seamlessly with the others’. Jimin couldn’t stop smiling, her heart swelling with happiness at having y/n by her side.

As the day turned to evening, y/n and Jimin found themselves alone on the balcony, wrapped in blankets as they watched the snow fall.

“This is perfect,” Jimin murmured, leaning her head on y/n’s shoulder.

y/n kissed the top of her head. “It really is. I wouldn’t trade this for anything.”

Jimin looked up at her, her eyes shining with love. “Thank you for coming. For everything.”

y/n cupped her face, her thumb brushing against Jimin’s cheek. “I’d do it all over again, a thousand times, just to be here with you.”

Their lips met in a kiss, sweet and full of promise. As the snow continued to fall, the world felt warm, their hearts beating as one.

____________________

A/N: Happy holidays!

[loki-cees-all]

Some Things Are Easier to Say in the Dark {Avengers!Loki x Female Reader One-Shot}

Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link

Pairing : Avengers!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : You and Loki absolutely despise each other. A mission to Finland forces you to work together undercover in the days leading up to Christmas, and then a blizzard traps you at an inn with only one bed. Suddenly all those teasing games aren't so fun anymore, and the animosity takes you both down a path neither of you anticipated.

W/c : 6.2k words

Content / Warnings : Enemies to Lovers, Snowed In, Only One Bed, Shameless Smut, Fingering, Teasing, Hate-Fucking, Cowgirl Position

Author's Note : My entry for @sarahscribbles' Christmas Collection, using the ✨ Enemies to Lovers ✨ prompt. Hope you enjoy it, dear!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

This had to be a joke. 

Not only had you been given the ridiculous assignment of “accompanying” the newest member of the Avengers, the so-called God of Mischief, to Finland. Not only did you know it wasn’t accompaniment, it was actually babysitting, because despite Thor’s intense insistence that his brother be given this chance at redemption, the rest of the team still didn’t quite trust him yet. 

Not only were you sure that this mission was just busy work - a way to simultaneously keep Loki distracted, and away from the prying eyes of the American government and media. And not only had this man single handedly usurped your rise from common S.H.I.E.L.D. agent to the next member of the Avengers, because the dungeons on Asgard were just too cruel for the precious Prince…

But now, there was only one bed left in this entire goddamn inn. 

The sweet old woman checking you in apologized profusely when she broke the news, and you just stood there, silently fuming and clenching your jaw so hard your teeth would be aching for days. Truthfully, you should have known better - it was only four days before Christmas; how could you forget that it was technically a holiday, and that millions of people around the world would be traveling for leisure right now? 

Maybe it was just because you couldn't recall the last time you'd taken a vacation, or the fact that you hadn’t spent a holiday with loved ones in years. Or maybe you’d been cursed somehow - most likely by the man standing next to you, with an infuriatingly charming grin on his face.

“Please don’t worry about it, my dear, we’ve just had quite a long day of traveling,” Loki gently assured the woman, reaching for her hand as she all but cowered in fear at your palpable rage. She seemed to relax as Loki soothed her, and you hated that it was him covering for your negative attitude instead of the other way around. “My fiancé - she’s just a bit old fashioned, and she wants to wait until marriage, you see...”

The woman smiled as if he was describing kittens snuggling together on a cold and rainy evening, and you were this close to absolutely losing your temper; he was already deviating from your mutually agreed upon cover story, that you were simply colleagues traveling to the Muotkatunturi Wilderness Area on a research trip, and he intentionally chose his own cover story to replace it - one that was designed to deliberately piss you off. 

You knew Loki could feel the anger radiating off your skin, and he turned towards you with a smile of his own as he continued to act as your doting fiancé. “And I’m determined to make that a reality. I promise, I’ll be fine sleeping on the floor, alright, darling?” 

He slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, his emerald eyes shining as he surely relished in your discomfort. You tried to focus on that, on how angry you were at him about everything - instead of his warm embrace, or how inviting his scent was. 

“Well, you’re in luck. We’ve got the most comfortable floors in all of Rovaniemi!” the woman laughed as she returned to filling out the guestbook.

It was humiliating, but it seemed as though you had no choice. You let out a heavy exhale, deciding it would be easier to just go along with his story and get this interaction over with as quickly as possible. Your only saving grace was that this was temporary - soon this reconnaissance mission would be over, and sooner or later Loki would ruin the good graces of Tony and Steve and be sent back to the dungeons on Asgard. 

But until then, you were going to have to find a way to make him pay for all of this later on.

“There’s my girl. Always the brave little soldier,” he purred softly, leaning down as if he was going to kiss you. Your eyes widened in panic, desperately fighting the urge to push him away and possibly punch him in his handsome face, but Loki caught the hint and quickly looked the other way. 

You turned your attention back to the front desk as the woman fiddled with the paperwork, and a group of figurines for sale caught your eye, nestled among the garland and twinkling lights. A wicked grin crept across your face as you nudged Loki’s ribs unplayfully. “Look, dear - they’ve got some Odin statues for sale. Shall we buy some to hand them out with our Christmas gifts this year?” 

Loki’s gaze slowly descended into madness, and you cheered silently once you were sure you’d gotten under his skin. His jaw tightened, along with the hand pressed against your ribs, but the woman smiled happily, unaware of just who she was talking to. 

“Ah, yes - these make excellent souvenirs!” the woman laughed as she picked up one of the figurines, admiring the wood carving with a loving eye. “Did you know that the myth of Santa Claus is based partially on the myth of Odin - and that it all started right here in Rovaniemi?” 

“Oh, I had no idea!” you lied, almost giddy with how much this was going to piss Loki off. “Could you tell me more about that? I find Norse mythology to be just fascinating…Of course, that pesky God of Mischief certainly leaves a lot to be desired, wouldn’t you say?” 

She opened her mouth to answer, clearly very pleased that someone was finally so interested in her offerings, but Loki quickly interjected with barely contained rage. “Actually, if you could just focus on retrieving our room key now, I’d really appreciate it.” 

“What is the God of Mischief’s name? Loki, or something like that?” you continued with absolute delight, slipping your arm around his waist the way he’d done while teasing you. “Pretty ridiculous name, if you ask me. Thor’s name is so much more elegant…”

“Well, it’s funny you should mention that. The name Loki actually means - ”

“The keys! Now. Please,” Loki snapped as he yanked your arm away, gripping your wrist so hard you were sure it was going to leave a bruise. That was definitely going in your mission report once you’d returned to Stark Tower.

The woman faltered briefly, clearly not expecting the charming man to shift his attitude so abruptly, but she reluctantly obliged and began rummaging around in a drawer for a set of room keys.

“You’ll have to excuse my fiancé, m’am…He just doesn’t believe in all that Norse mythology nonsense, even though I think it’s super interesting…” you smirked as Loki stewed with indignation. “But it’s just this one night that you have to endure the tall tales of Norse mythology, and then we’re off to Inari in the morning…aren’t we, sweetheart?”

The sweet old woman furrowed her brow as she pulled the last set of keys from the drawer and extended them over the counter. “Oh, didn’t you hear about the blizzard arriving tonight? They’re saying it’s the storm of the century. I doubt you two will be going anywhere for a while.”

Loki’s face fell alongside yours, and you both turned to the woman with matching grimaces. “I beg your pardon?” 

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Your mood quickly soured by the time Loki led the way upstairs to your room; of course there was a blizzard incoming, and of course it would mean you were trapped here longer than anticipated with the most inconsiderate man alive. He took the stairs two at a time, leaving you behind to struggle with your luggage, while his belongings were no doubt stored easily inside that stupid pocket dimension of his. 

If just one more thing went wrong on this trip, you feared you might actually lose it - consequences be damned. 

By the time you made it down the hallway to the door of your room, Loki was casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and a brooding expression on his face. If you didn’t hate him so much, it would have been a beautiful sight to behold. 

“Hey, thanks for offering to help,” you called out sarcastically as you made your way over to him. “I’m absolutely shocked by how thoughtful and courteous you are.” 

Loki scoffed and pushed himself off the wall as he pulled the key out of his pocket. “I could have just gone inside and left you wondering which door was ours. You should be grateful I didn’t.” 

“Aww, is someone a little mad that I made him think about Odin?” you taunted, enjoying the way he tensed up again at the sound of his father’s name. 

“No, it was just foolish. Do not make that mistake again…” 

The door swung open and you rolled your eyes as you followed him inside. “Are you threatening me?” 

Loki whipped around with barely restrained fury as soon as the door closed. “We’re meant to be under cover here, yes? So do you really think it’s a good idea to be throwing around my actual name just to infuriate me?” he snapped angrily, eyes blazing and fists clenching at his sides. 

Your stomach did a flip in your abdomen, and you struggled to maintain an air of defiance as he continued. “You don’t know who anyone is here, or who could be listening to our conversations. So keep your mouth shut if you don’t want us to be discovered! Am I being clear?” 

You nodded meekly, because that was all you could manage while kicking yourself. He was right, you were being foolish and forgetting the true purpose of this trip. Hydra could easily have eyes and ears everywhere, and if you kept pissing Loki off, he might not be inclined to save you if necessary. 

And you hated that it might be necessary, because he was a literal God with infinite magic at his disposal, while you were just a fallible little human that he absolutely despised. 

As Loki turned away and started pulling the drapes shut, you distracted yourself with examining the room you’d been given. Three large windows took up the entire outside wall of the room, and on either side of the lone queen-sized bed were two end-tables, each with a dark green lamp providing the only light to the room. A stone fireplace sat on the opposite side of the bed, decorated with greenery and frosted miniature Christmas trees, and a tiny wooden desk and chair were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. 

It was definitely cozy, even you couldn’t deny that, but that just made it worse. In any other circumstances, you might have enjoyed this break; but the Christmas decorations just reminded you of how alone you were, and Loki’s presence only reminded you of how unnecessary you were. 

And it was already starting to get uncomfortably cold inside the room. Just before Loki yanked the last curtain closed, you caught a glimpse of the snow outside; it had quickly transformed from light flurries into heavy sheets of frozen precipitation. You were in for a very cold, very long and lonely night, and daylight couldn't come soon enough.

A deep sense of dread settled in the base of your spine as you realized how long you might be trapped here with this narcissistic, self-important and delusional mockery of all the sacrifices you’d made to get to this point of your career. 

You’d foregone relationships with family, friends and potential lovers to spend every waking moment either training your body or honing your skills, trying to prove your worth and dedication to keeping this world safe from anything that ever threatened it. 

And the planet’s most recent threat, the reason for the Avengers’ very existence, was making himself busy pulling pillows and blankets off the bed to make his own on the hardwood floor. Loki was silent as he worked, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually hurt by your teasing. 

You hated it. You hated this - especially since you hadn’t expected to feel so badly about taunting him. Clearing your throat, you set your suitcase on the chair and pretended to look for something inside. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened before. I guess I’m just…on edge.”

“Why bother?” he replied coldly, and you didn’t know if it was because he wasn’t actually hurt, or if it was because he didn’t care that you were potentially sorry about hurting him. Either way, the dismissal stung. 

You continued rummaging through the suitcase, anything to avoid looking at your roommate for the night. How long had it been since you’d shared such close quarters with another person? Had there been anyone since college? You already felt raw and exposed by the idea of falling asleep within the same four walls as another person; but at the very least, Loki was sticking to his word about sleeping on the floor and not in the bed with you. 

“You’re not worried about the mission? Or the blizzard? Or the fact that we might kill each other at any moment?” you laughed nervously, hoping to at least break some of the tension. 

Loki sighed. “This mission is a joke. The blizzard might be a problem, and yes - we might certainly try to kill each other…but none of that is cause for real concern - not to me, anyway.” 

Your brow furrowed, and you turned to look at him; the God of Mischief was on his hands and knees, arranging pillows and blankets on the floor. It was an amusing sight, and you struggled to maintain focus. “Wait - you think this mission is a joke?”

He paused what he was doing, staring off into the distance with regret in his eyes as if he’d already said too much but couldn’t bring himself to stop. “Don’t think for one moment that I don’t know what this mission actually is…” 

You rubbed your neck nervously, unsure of where he was going with this. 

“I know how easily it would be for Stark to send in his machines to do this reconnaissance, and that the Scepter likely isn’t here. Obviously, I’d be the last person they’d ever want close to it,” Loki continued, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefingers. “I know the others are probably on the other side of the world recovering it as we speak, and that this mission is completely pointless - hence, assigning you and I to it.”

Your heart sank as he spoke, knowing that he was probably right; that this mission was utterly pointless, that it wouldn’t advance you any further in your career. That the only thing this mission was going to lead to was meaningless and unnecessary frustration and pain for the both of you. 

“I know what they - and you - don’t particularly like or trust me. And you have good reason not to.” Loki cast a tragic glance in your direction before quickly looking away again. 

“So why are you here then? If you don’t want to be here, and if you don’t…” you trailed off, unsure if you should finish that thought. 

Loki sighed and shook his head. “It…doesn’t matter,” he answered sadly, and your heart broke over the entire situation. You didn’t know what to say to make either of you feel better, and it was likely that nothing ever would. 

“There. I think that’ll do nicely,” he announced pleasantly, abruptly changing the subject and rousing you from your pensive thoughts. You glanced over to see a grown man - a God, in fact - standing proudly over the neatly arranged pillows and blankets on the floor, and for a brief moment you couldn’t help but be amused by the sight - that is, until you noticed the state of your sleeping quarters for the foreseeable future. 

“You stripped off most of the bed!” you protested angrily, examining the three paltry blankets left to keep you warm overnight. 

“On the contrary - I stripped precisely half of the bed,” Loki replied as he began to remove his coat. “Of course, there’s a simple and quite easy way to double your warmth if you’re so concerned…” 

“Absolutely not.” The words came out harsher than you’d intended, but even just sharing four walls felt way too close to him; sharing a bed was probably way more than you ever could handle. 

“Fair enough. Shall I light a fire to keep us warm then?” Loki offered without skipping a beat, the sudden change in his tone giving you multiple rounds of whiplash. He stepped over to the fireplace to examine it, running his hands over the stone hearth’s arch before crouching next to the pile of logs. 

How was he able to switch so suddenly, from profound soundness to being so thoughtful? You wanted to accept the kindness and be grateful for the change in tone, but all it did was put you on edge. You sat down on the bed and began to unlace your boots, still desperately trying not to look at him. “Don’t bother on my account,” was all the response you could manage. 

The room was silent for a moment, and you could almost feel the gears turning inside Loki’s head as he tried to come up with something else to say. But why was he trying so hard? You had been counting on him retreating into himself the way he always did back at Stark Tower, or worst case - that he would be deliberately messing with you, making your life hell and again ruining your chances at proving yourself worthy. 

You could feel his gaze boring into the back of your skull as your boots clattered to the floor. And when he still hadn’t tried to speak, you cautiously looked over your shoulder to him. “Was there something else you wanted?” 

Loki sighed and let his eyes drift away as he shook his head. An expression of restrained exasperation crawled across his features as he made his way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “Nothing. I don’t need anything from you…” 

Your brow furrowed and guilt poured into your veins with every step he took. But guilt about what? You weren’t friends. You owed him nothing. This was just a mission - nothing more, and nothing less. You opened your mouth to speak, but Loki was already laying down on the floor with his back to you, clearly uninterested in speaking anymore that night. 

The room seemed colder after Loki withdrew. It was an odd, incredibly distracting feeling - one that you hadn’t ever prepared yourself for, and didn’t have the energy to explore at the moment. Sleep was calling out to you, beckoning you closer as it always did whenever the feelings all became too much. 

It took so much effort to crawl underneath the three blankets on your bed, and you didn’t even bother changing out of your street clothes before cocooning yourself inside. You thought about everything in your life that had led up to this incredibly excruciating moment, all the choices you’d made and the pain you’d gone through. 

All that sacrifice, and where had it gotten you?

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Sleep did not come easy for you that night. Despite your body exhausted from travel and the gentle bed cradling your wearied soul, you laid awake far longer than you would have expected. So many thoughts flitting uncontrollably across your mind, so many shivers slipping along your frigid bones. 

A cold draft seeped in through the seams of the windowsills as the snow poured down outside. You were still awake, curled up on your side with the blankets pulled tight around your narrow frame. Eyelids pulled shut and breath held cautiously, you struggled to keep from shivering too much as you imagined Loki on the floor. 

He had to be colder than you were, and part of you wanted to ignore his possible discomfort. He deserved it, didn’t he? Maybe if he was more pleasant to be around, it wouldn’t have to be like this. 

But another part of you hoped he’d be so uncomfortable that he’d ask to join you in the bed. Your thoughts returned to when he had slipped his arm around your waist earlier that evening, and you struggled to keep your heart rate in check. It was wrong, you knew it was so wrong because you were supposed to hate him, the villain who had terrorized New York City, and he was supposed to hate you, a simple mortal who was only good for kneeling. 

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was a whisper, a small shadow in a room full of empty ones. You slowly opened your eyes, your pupils taking their time to adjust the dark and make out the furniture inside the room. You wanted to sit up, to peer out into the world and see if he looked any different on the floor. 

“Can’t sleep. It’s too cold,” you murmured softly, barely able to even pull the blankets tighter around you. 

Loki sighed off in the distance. “The power’s been knocked out by the storm, so the heating’s off.” 

It was only then that you realized the bedside table lamps had gone out. Too busy retreating inside yourself, the only warm place you had left. “Oh. Hadn’t noticed.” 

“I could light the fire now, if you’d like.” 

No, you thought. No, that won’t do. That’s not what I want from you. “Why are you being so nice to me now?” 

Loki stirred on the floor, presumably shifting underneath his blankets. He could be sitting up right now, looking at you in the dark and you wouldn’t ever know. “Some things are easier to say in the dark.” 

You thought for a moment, wondering about how to beckon him closer without risking rejection, or your dignity. This shouldn’t happen; and yet, it never ever would in the light. “Then let’s stay in the dark.” 

Loki didn’t respond, and silence descended upon the room again. You couldn’t stop the shivers tormenting your flesh, and your teeth clattered together as you waited for a response. This time, you were sure you were going to freeze to death, despite burning in the waiting, and yearning, and longing that rolled up and down your spine. 

“But where there’s light…there’s heat,” Loki finally answered. His voice was closer, much closer now; he’d stood up, and maybe he was right next to the bed. Could you reach out and touch him? Should you?

“I’m doing just fine in the cold.” 

Loki chuckled, and you felt the blankets pull away as the mattress dipped under his weight. “You shouldn’t lie to the God of Mischief, dear,” he whispered softly as he settled in behind you, curling his knees behind yours and brushing his nose against your ear. 

His body was so very warm, and you were aching for his touch. “I think it’s only fair. You came to my bed, and left your blankets on the floor…” you sassed, unable to help yourself. 

“You want me to retrieve them?” Loki’s voice carried the slightest hint of mockery as he started to pull away. You panicked and grabbed his hand, eagerly pulling his arm back around your waist. 

“So fussy…” he murmured with a smile, his voice hot against your neck as he settled in to spoon you once more. “You want heat, but not light. You hate me, but you want me close…” 

You melted in his arms, and forced out a soft, defiant sigh. “You have no idea what I want…” 

“And you do?” He matched your sigh with one of his own, and pressed his hand flat against your stomach, moving languidly over the fabric of your many shirts and jackets. You could feel how much he wanted to move his hand upwards to more stimulating areas, and it was so very thrilling. 

“So what do you want, hmm? Why did you tell the innkeeper we were engaged, when that wasn’t our planned cover story?” you whispered, shifting your hips and ass against his crotch. 

Loki swallowed a deep groan, and you could feel your own arousal beginning to coat your inner thighs. His hand latched onto your hip, but he didn’t stop you from moving. 

“Was it just to piss me off, or was it because you wanted to pretend it was true?” you continued, shifting back against him and hoping the movement would cause your clothing to reveal a little bare skin. 

“The…first option. Obviously…” Loki whispered, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear as his hips started to grind against yours. 

You swallowed back a moan, trying desperately to ignore his hardened length against the swell of your ass. “Which one of us is the liar now?” 

“Gods, do you ever stop talking?!” he hissed as he began rummaging underneath your jacket, eagerly searching for bare skin as he pulled your shirt upwards. His hand finally found your bare hip, and his touch was white hot as he began unbuttoning your jeans. 

This time, you didn’t bother hiding the moan, and you twisted ever so slightly underneath the sheets to encourage him to keep going. Your heart beat frantically in your chest and your lips parted, intending to tease him one more time with the brattiest ‘make me’ ever spoken aloud…

And then his fingers dipped beneath the waistband to slip between your slick thighs. 

The sound that tumbled from your lips was equally parts gasp and whimper as his fingertips grazed over your soaked clit, and his breath was heavy against your neck. “There we go. That’s more like it…” he whispered breathlessly, slowly dragging his fingers back and forth. 

Your thighs drifted apart, as much as they could while trapped inside the unyielding jeans, and your hips rolled eagerly as he pressed harder against your clit. Heat flooded your veins, pooling beneath your cheeks and spilling out of your lungs as you whimpered for more. 

Loki slipped his other arm around your shoulder, those fingers curling in your hair as his lips started to kiss and suck along your neck. “So sensitive…have you always been this wet for me?” 

“Yes…” you moaned honestly, unable to deny it any longer. You’d say anything to make him keep going, to keep those delicate fingers pressing and massaging and coaxing endless satisfaction from you. 

“That’s a shame. We could have been doing this the whole time then…” he groaned heavily, shuddering and sighing along as if he was getting as much pleasure out of this as you were. 

“Oh, my god - Loki!” you gasped as he slipped a finger inside, slowly pushing and withdrawing it from your swollen, throbbing pussy. Your hips bucked with his movements, and your fingers curled around your clothing, desperately trying to pull and shift to give him more room to work. 

Loki smiled against your neck, and brought his lips up to nibble on your earlobe as he added a second finger. “This feels good, doesn’t it? You’re enjoying what I’m doing to you?” 

That familiar coil of release was beginning to contract inside your core, tighter than it ever had before. Frantic whimpers of ecstasy fell from your lips, unashamed and without second-guessing. With your eyes closed and your hips writhing, you moaned louder and louder as your climax approached. 

“Careful, little one. Do you want the innkeeper to hear us breaking our vows of chastity?” he taunted in a low, thrumming voice against your ear. 

“I don’t care, I don’t care! Just, please - keep going!” 

Loki’s fingers moved faster still, skillfully and without hesitation, as if he was completely determined to bring you to Heaven himself. But just as the floodgates were about to open, just as you were about to come so very hard, he cruelly withdrew his fingers. 

“What?! No!” Your eyes flew open in shock as the pressure receded and the coil in your belly began to loosen. 

Loki gazed at you with a triumphant grin on his face, his emerald eyes blazing in the dark. “Maybe now you’ll be nicer to me…now that you know what I can do to you…” he murmured, bringing his fingers to his lips and sucking your arousal from them. 

Your mind reeled uncontrollably, so furious and yet still so turned on by the pleasure he’d brought and subsequently taken from you. “I- I can’t believe you…Wh-why would you’d d-do this…?” you stammered, clumsily pushing yourself up to sitting. 

Loki settled on his back, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you struggling to pull your jacket off. “Surely you can. But the real question is…what are you going to do about it, hmm?” 

“Oh, my God, I hate you. I hate you so much,” you groaned as you finally freed the zipper and yanked the jacket off your frame. You stumbled out of the bed, thighs trembling violently as you worked to remove the rest of your clothing. You weren’t lying; you did hate him, but goddammit he was so alluring and you desperately needed to come. 

Loki watched hungrily as you stripped the rest of your clothing away and climbed back onto the bed, settling yourself over his hips. “Well, this is certainly an interesting strategy,” he whispered as he curled a hand behind your neck and pulled your lips down to his. 

You moaned deeply as you kissed him back, violently and passionately moving your lips and tongue with his. You eagerly rolled your bare pussy against his clothed hips, searching for any sort of friction and for a way to tease him more than he’d teased you, to make sure you wouldn’t be denied a second time. 

He met your lips just as eagerly, groaning and moaning against your mouth as he moved his hands to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing across your nipples and driving you mad with want. Your hands moved to his jacket, grabbing and struggling to align the zipper with the chain and be able to feel his skin directly against yours. 

“Use your magic, undo your clothing…” you whispered frantically against his lips, unable to see or think clearly. 

“Absolutely not. Show me how much you want me…” Loki hummed teasingly, shifting his hands downwards to grasp your ass and force you to roll harder against his hips. 

You grinned, pleased with his words, and pulled back to sit upright on his hips. With your full weight pressing down, you rolled yourself harder against him, and his back arched in pleasure. When his jaw clenched tight and he rolled his hips with yours, you violently pulled the jacket zipper down and then ripped his shirt open. 

“Oh, you are going to pay for that, minx!” Loki hissed angrily as shirt buttons went flying across the room. He pulled his hand away as if preparing to smack your ass, but you ignored it, leaned forward to take his nipple between your lips. 

Loki moaned loudly as you sucked, flicking your tongue as he squirmed and writhed beneath you. His eyes closed and both of his hands returned to your ass, and you matched every one of his moans with some of your own. Vindication and pleasure rushed up and down your spine - and then he finally magicked his clothes away. 

You found yourself pressed directly against the length of his throbbing cock, and you both moaned loudly in unison at the intimate contact. He wasn’t even inside you yet, but you couldn’t believe how amazing it felt already. You shifted to bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent and basking in the warmth of his naked body as your hips gyrated together. 

The blizzard outside was forgotten, the cold air nipping at your bare skin was no longer a concern, and in that moment you couldn’t remember why you ever hated him. He whimpered in your ear and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist as your hips writhed in unison, and soon that coil was wrapping itself around every fiber of your being again. 

There was nothing anyone could do to stop you from coming this time; in fact, Loki actively encouraged you to keep going through a heated, growling voice. “Yes, take it from me. Let it all out, I’ve got you…” he commanded, his fingers pressing harder into your flesh. 

The orgasm ripped through you, searing every nerve ending as you thrashed on top of him. Your fingers and toes curled beyond what you thought was ever possible, and your muscles kept tensing and relaxing, grinding and rolling in a desperate attempt to keep this pleasure flowing. 

Loki held on tightly, groaning and gasping right along with you until you finally started to come back down. One by one your muscles relaxed until you lay limp, breathing heavily between parted lips on top of him. You were finally sated, with no thoughts passing through you any longer; maybe now you could finally fall asleep…

Satisfied that you had gotten yours - and the better of him - you started to roll away, but his arms tightened around your body, keeping you on top of him. “Oh, I don’t think so, darling. I’m not done with you yet…” 

Your eyes fluttered back open as Loki adjusted your body on top of his, and before you could muster the strength to tease him again, he was pushing himself inside you. It felt incredible, like his body was molded to fit inside yours, and you couldn’t believe he’d somehow figured out what your favorite position was. 

A deep whimper of pleasure was all you could manage as you took him in, his cock pulsating inside you and filling you entirely. Loki moved his hands back down to grip your ass as he began to thrust upwards, his thighs tensing and pelvis tilting to hit your sweet spot. You shifted your knees away from his hips and hovered above them as he drove himself into you over and over again. 

Almost immediately you were on the verge of coming a second time, and you cried out his name as every nerve ending fired off in rapid succession. Loki’s thrusts were relentless as he came apart with you, his fingers digging into your flesh and hips bucking wildly and uncontrollably beneath you. 

You clung to each other the entire time, your minds wracked with pleasure and bodies spent until you were both just panting and laying peacefully in each other’s arms. When clarity returned, you had no idea how to react; should you push him away? Should you say something rude? Was he going to beat you to either of those options first? 

The deepest, most vulnerable part of you just wanted to stay there, lingering in the bliss you both had created with each other. You’d never had a partner this exquisite before, and you didn’t know what you were going to do when you returned home - let alone the next morning. 

You nestled in against his chest and listened to the sound of his heart beating - steadily, calmly, peacefully. Loki kept his arms around you, and his fingers ran through your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he held you close. 

“I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” Loki said quietly, his voice tinged with melancholy. 

You blinked and cautiously brought your hand to his chest, placing it soothingly over his heart. “What do you mean?”

“Earlier you asked why I was here. I’ve got a lot of amends to make,” he repeated, placing his hand over yours. “For New York, for the pain I’ve caused my father and brother, for letting myself be - ” 

Loki swallowed hard and shook his head, and could almost feel the regret swelling in his eyes. There was something important he wasn’t sharing; maybe he didn’t know how, or maybe he didn’t know if he could trust you yet. Something deep inside you longed to earn that trust, something you didn’t quite understand. 

“You don’t need to say it if you don’t want to. But…I’d be willing to listen, whenever you are ready,” you replied sincerely, hoping he’d believe you. And then you continued on, to make a joke and hopefully lighten the mood. “First, though, I think we need to agree to a cease-fire. In the spirit of Christmas, and whatnot.” 

Loki smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I knew you’d be the first one to concede…” he murmured playfully. “But I’m feeling generous. Let’s just call it a draw…” 

Your mind reeled with possibilities, unsure of what to say that wouldn’t make anything worse or ruin the moment. “Really? I thought your hatred of me was permanent…” you answered cautiously. 

Loki shifted his hand to gently grasp your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “I don’t hate you. You just…bewilder and confound me…”

His gaze was soft and warm, and it almost took your breath away. If he was this delicate with someone he found this irritating, how tender could he be with someone he actually loved? And could he ever actually love you someday? 

You forced a smile, and traced his cheekbones with your fingertips, hoping he couldn’t read your thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe all the teasing and insulting was what made this so good?” you murmured playfully. 

Loki returned your smile, although there was a hint of sadness you couldn’t quite place etched upon his features. “I suppose we’ll see what happens in tomorrow’s light, won’t we?” 

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚

[eclipsethemagic]

Snowed in |KNJ| |M|

Summary: Being roommates with Namjoon has always had it's ups and downs, but being snowed in with him? Well maybe it will be fun

Paring: Nonidol! Namjoon xf!reader

Genre: Smut, fluff, lil bit of angus

sw: unprotected sex ( don't do- be safe), soft Dom Joon ( we love gentle Joon), spit, ( you'll figure it out when you see it ), praise kink, choking (f.rec), semi rough sex, expedition kink?, breeding kink ( more so reader then Joon), hand kink ( you'll see)

Song of the day: worth it by: avant + railway by: stray kids

[s.masterlist]

w.c: 3,268

a/n: I’m sorry! This was been supposed to come out, and I got so back tracked from work and then school that I just am now posting it. Don’t worry the rest of the Christmas oneshots will be posted, and if there’s any mistakes in here I’m sorry :(

Namjoon has to be an idiot if he thought that it wouldn't snow. Namjoon has to be an idiot to book a vacation with all of his friends in the middle of the mountain in the middle of December and didn't think it wouldn't snow.

He's an idiot.

He felt like the universe was laughing at him, telling him that he is indeed an idiot. And it wouldn't have been bad if he wasn't stuck with you. His roommate, one of his very best friends. But you and Namjoon weren't on talking terms at the moment, and it wasn't like he hated you. Oh no, he actually enjoyed your company throughout the whole vacation. It was just- you hated him. And it wasn't like it was a good reason too.

You and him had a disagreement about one of your good friends that Namjoon hated and he didn't want them there. Which you invited the person anyway and it sent Namjoon into a spiral. He stopped talking to you for a week, and then the week turned into a month before your trip. Yoongi, Namjoon other best friend, suggested that you two should talk before the trip, which you did on your ride there to the cabin. Namjoon and you had agreement that you two would be civil, and that you should keep your friend away from him during the trip.

Which you did.

But that was until the night before. Namjoon had just got out of the shower, he had on his sweatpants and a hoodie as he walked downstairs to the living room. Everyone was doing their own thing, Yoongi, and his boyfriend Jimin was packing their things up to leave that night leaving just you, Namjoon and that annoying ass friend of yours May. Namjoon didn't see that May was on the couch waiting for you to come downstairs, maybe it was the simple fact that any time he seen her he would just ignore her existence. "Oh it's you." Namjoon hears her voice from the bottom of the steps. A groan escapes his lips, he had two options. One was just going straight back upstairs and going to his room until she left or two go in the kitchen, hope she doesn't say anything to him and then go back upstairs. Before he could even pick any of those options the small girl walks up to him.

She smiles, flashing her pretty white teeth. May always tried to get Namjoon's attention whenever she could. And he hated it. Namjoon had a type, and May didn't check those boxes off. You know what else he hated? Was when he kissed her on new year's eve the year before. And he told her, he was drunk out of his mind when he seen her but nope. May just couldn't let him go. "Hi." It was simple enough to let her get the hint that he didn't want to talk to her. But knowing the girl in front of him, it didn't click in that tiny brain of hers. Namjoon walks past her, walking into the kitchen like planned. He then goes to grab a cup from the cabinet and opens the fridge to get some juice.

"You know, we been here for two whole weeks and haven't said a word to me." Namjoon mentally wants to shoot himself. He doesn't respond as the girl continues talking to him. "Did I do something wrong?" She ask. "Because if I did you a can tell me.." she whispers. Namjoon turns around to see her near the kitchen door, her hand playing with one of the ringers on her finger. She's not even looking at him and deep down Namjoon feels bad. I mean, she's right. He hasn't said a word to her the whole trip, but he also didn't even talk to her friend who just so happens to walk in the kitchen as well looking at them both.

"What's going on..?" You say, "is he being a dick again?" May doesn't say anything at first, her eyes still looking at the floor. Namjoon continues to pour his juice, before he hears May's voice. "I just asked him why he's been ignoring me all week." She smiles at you, it was a weak one, But she still tried to smile. You could hear the sadness in her voice as she spoke and it made you feel bad. "Joon stop being an asshole."

Dick? Asshole?

"Asshole? You're calling me an asshole?" He repeats back to you, his eyes widen and his long pointy fingers digs into his chest as he points to himself and then back at you. May's mouth goes to open before she's cut off by you. "Yes. You. You're being a dick and asshole, stop being an asshole." Namjoon lets out a little laugh, you see his jaw moves a bit before he slams the fridge close when he puts the juice back. With his glass in his hand he walks past you both, and the kitchen door slams causing May to flitch a little.

And after that, Namjoon hasn't said a word to you. Even when May left early the next morning Joon didn't even say bye to the girl, even now as the snow leaves you two stuck in, he hasn't left his room and it started to worry you. Maybe calling him an asshole and a dick was too much, but if felt right at the time. It needed to be said, because truth be told Namjoon was indeed being a dick, a bitch and everything above, over a girl who did nothing to him. Deep down his and May's relationship was never like that. Even since high school they always been somewhat cordial. But if you think about it too much, your brain starts to hurt. You knock twice on your best friend's door, nothing, so you knock again. "Hey Joon? I made you a grilled cheese and some soup. I haven't seen you all day, or have you left that room. Joonie I'm starting to worry." With a sigh you place the tray near his door. "I'll leave it by your door..please eat." And with those words you leave, going to your own room and shutting the door softy.

Namjoon doesn't open the door until he hears your door shut. Looking down he notices the food, smiling softy. Even if he was still mad at you, somehow you knew how to make his heart hurt less. He shuts the door after grabbing the food and setting it on the desk near his bed. The snow was still falling, hitting the trees and covering the ground. Growing up Namjoon loved the snow, he loved looking at it, playing with it and he loved being in it. If his parents would have gave him a chance he'll probably live in it if he could. But that's what the thing was about Namjoon, snow reminded him of you oddly enough. You were beautiful just like snow, he could look at you and not get tired of looking at you, just like snow. His heart grew 10 times more when he was near you like snow, and his mood would get 10 times better being with you like snow. And if you would give me a chance like the snow does, he'll make your life worthwhile.

Namjoon doesn't know when his fascination about you came about, but he knew that you were the most beautiful girl he laid his eyes on. His junior year in high school was the first time you came over to his house, it was the first time he seen his mom be so friendly with a girl he ever brought over. In fact it was the first time he seen his mom so excited that you'll come over the next day, and you did, you came over the next day, and the day after that and the day after that until his mom passed away. He remembers the day before she died, and the words she spoke. "Keep her son, she's a keeper. Do it for mama hm?" And ever since then Joon hasn't left your side.

It had to be 5 in the morning when Namjoon finally came out of his room. His dishes in his hand as he walks down the stairs slowly, trying to not fall. He noticed the Christmas tree lights where still on when he walks in the kitchen, setting his dishes in the sink, he walks back in the  living room to turn them off, that's before he noticed you on the couch, curled up under the covers. You look so peaceful, and as much as he wants to look at you, he's questioning why you're down here in the first place. Namjoon walks over to you, he bends down and shakes you gently. "Petal." He mumbles, and he does it again when you don't wake up. You let out a groan, your eyes squeezes shut. "Petal, you have to get off the couch come on." He says and you open your eyes just a bit to look at him. He smiles softly when you shake your head, the sleep crowning your brain and Namjoon does the next best option. He picks you up, one arm underneath you as he walks back up the stairs. Your head is against his chest, falling back to sleep without a care in the world.

The few days after that, you and namjoon's relationship got better. And the first time since you two been snowed in, you actually went outside with him to play in the snow. It was the first in a very long time that he seen you smile. And that's all he ever wanted for you, was to smile. "So Christmas is tomorrow and we're stuck here." You pout as you flop on the couch next to him. "Is it that bad that you're stuck here with me?" Namjoon says as he looks up from his book. His glasses on the bridge of his nose, and he turns his head at you. "I'm not saying that it's bad that I'm with you, I'm just saying that it's bad that we're stuck here and not at home. Don't you miss your bed? I miss my bed." You still pout and it's hard for Namjoon to not smile at you.

"Technically speaking you haven't even been in your bed, you been in mines. And yes, I do I miss home, but with you? I can make a home out of anything petal." Normally his flirting wouldn't make you feel all hot, and your cheeks burn. But it did, in fact the water you were drinking made you choke after hearing those words leave his mouth. Who was he to tell you that? And why did his words have such an affect on you? And what made matters worse, is that Namjoon knew how to use his words for use- he's smart like that. And his words made your cunt throb. Yeah maybe you do need to get laid.

"Shut up." Is all you could say, Namjoon lets out a deep chuckle. his dimples on full display as he continues to look at the book he was reading. "Aw, did I make you shy?" He questions as he grabs a sticky note from the coffee table and puts it in between the part he was reading and shuts the book. "No."

"No?" He questions again as he looks at you. He notices that you quickly look away, a small smile forming on your lips that makes him want to laugh. "Okay maybe. But who just says that?"

"Say what?"

"That- are you trying to trick me right now?" Namjoon sees you tilt your head. "No, I'm being serious." He laughs and shakes his head. "Use your big girl words." Fuck, did your pussy get wetter? "Do you mean it? That you can make a home out of anything if I'm by your side?" You see Namjoon nod his head and smile. He shoots closer, and you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest. "Yeah, I mean it petal." He stares in your eyes, his dragon shaped eyes staring back at you. "Can I kiss you?"

What?

Your eyes widen as you hear your own words leave your mouth. And it doesn't make it better when Namjoon blinks, his eyes widen just like yours. "Kiss me?" He switches from English to Korean so fast that it makes you nervous. "I mean- sure?" It was a question, and that made you more nervous than before. "We don't have to-" you're cut off when you feel his plumped lips on yours. You could taste his strawberry chapstick, and a groans leaves your lips when he pulls you closer. His lips moves against yours, it was like his lips were meant for yours. Namjoon feels your hands grip his shirt, his own hands moving from the back of your neck to your waist, squeezing the fat just a bit. You don't know when you two pull away, but he looks at you, a small smile forms on his lips as he grins at you. "I'm so glad I wanted to do this." And you don't comment on it, as you pulls his face to yours to kiss you again.

Everything happened so fast, at first you two were just kissing, but then you crawled in his lap, and then you started grinding on him, and the next thing he knows is that he's on top of you, rubbing his dick against your wet folds. He's mesmerized. His dragon like eyes glued on your cunt, the way it feels so warm against him. And the sounds it makes, the sounds you make, his brain is spinning. And what makes matters worse is that he thinks your pussy is so pretty, he actually mumbles it when he first seen it. And that made you feel all warm inside. "Joon? Please? Can you fuck me please?" He hears you say, a whine leaves your throat when he groans, a fat glob of spit lands on your cunt and Namjoon rubs his dick again against you for good measure before he slides into you.

It's uncomfortable at first, since he didn't prep you and he's so big. You felt like he would split you in half, thick and big, and you should have known the stretch would burn. You feel him stop at first, your eyes fluttering close. "Do you want me to stop baby?" God the pet name. You let out a low hum opening your eyes just a bit. "No, you can keep going." He nods, and continues to slide in. When he bottoms out you feel namjoon big hand bring your legs up against your chest before he moves his hips. The couch was smaller than him, and he really tried his best not to hurt you. The last thing he wanted for yalls first time was to hurt you and for you to never let him touch you again.

Once he got the rhythm just right, a loud moan is heard from your lips. Your hand grips his arm to sturdy yourself and you feel namjoon go deeper if that was possible and his hand presses down the bottom of your stomach. "Fuck you're so tight petal." He grunts, and you're so fucked out that you don't even notice Namjoon slowing down his movements. A whine leaves your lips, and Namjoon looks down at you, he leans down to pull you in a kiss, taking your breath away before he slams his hips against yours. "S-Sorry, I thought I seen someone outside." Oh, that's right, Namjoon left the curtains wide open when he came down after he left his room in the morning. Usually it would turn you off to know someone could see you getting dicked down by your best friend but for some reason the thought of someone seeing you like this, so fucked out of your mind, being your best friend flush light, his little sex toy, that it made you even more wetter then before. "Shit- baby did you get tighter?" Namjoon lets your legs go for a moment, you feel his thumb rub against your puffy clit and your eyes roll back.

"There you go, go ahead and cream on my cock baby, that's it good fucking girl." You don't know when your orgasm hit, but you felt like you were floating. A white ring of your cum coats his dick as he goes harder, he could feel his orgasm in the bottom of his stomach. You bring namjoon's free hand to your throat, and he tilts his head for a moment. When it finally clicks, he nods and squeezes your throat and you moan. "F-Fuck baby I'm going to cum, where you want it?" In you. Is the first thought that comes to your mind. The thought of Namjoon hot seed filling you up makes your brain shut down in the best way. "In me, please baby? I want your babies, don't you want to mark me as yours? I'll be yours forever."

Fuck, Namjoon wanted that. He lets go of your throat and goes faster, with a few thrust later Namjoon cums inside you and a moan leaves his throat. After riding out his high he pulls out slowly, and he goes to kiss you again.

After you two finish cleaning up and showering you end up laying down in his bed. Your head on his chest as he rubs circles against your back. "What now?" He hears you say against him. Namjoon doesn't say anything at first, afraid of saying the wrong thing. "You..I mean do you like me?" He ask, and it makes you think. Do you like him? I mean the signs were there. You hated him when he kissed May that night, you actually hated any female he ended up dating because it wasn't you. So do you like him?

"Yeah.. do you like me?"

"I thought it was obvious." He snorts and you look up at him. "The fuck do you mean you thought it was obvious? I ain't know shit Namjoon." He bites the bottom of his lip, a laugh threatening to leave his lips. "Pay attention more?" He says and you hit his chest playfully. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He laughs. "Yes petal, I like you, I like you a lot actually. Why you think I turn down May every chance I get?" Well, you always thought it was because he was playing hard to get, or just being a dick. "Because you're a dick, why else?"

"Don't piss me off." He mumbles and rolls his eyes and it makes you giggle just a bit. "Well if that's the case, I like you too." You smile and peck his lips before laying back down. "Well that was easy enough." You hear him mumble and it makes you laugh. "Yeah, yeah."

[j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus]

FICMAS - DAY 6 - SECRET SANTA

Title: Secret Santa

Synopsis: You have *no* clue what to get one of your two boyfriends for Christmas for secret santa

Warnings: This is m/m/f. That's really it?

AN: This WAS made with like... one mutual in mind, and I will continue to write JohnSimonReader because OML the concept is fun. Anyways eat. OH AND THIS WAS THE ONLY IMAGE OF THEM I COULD FIND?

"Out the 'at, c'mon," Simon shakes the cap--Kyle's hat he always wears on missions--with the little names on it. You pick a name, not opening it yet. 

Once everyone has a name, John's voice is heard, "'Right, everyone. All you 'ave t'do is buy a gift, limit being £40 in price, for the person on your slip o'paper by Christmas Eve."

You nod, along with the other men, and John adjourns the meeting.

As soon as you're in your quarters, you're reading your slip of paper.

Simon. One of your two boyfriends in your cursed little love circle. 

You huff, unsure of what to get him, so you phone John. "John?" You answer the phone as soon as he picks up.

"Yes, dovie?" He responds, a little confused, "Everythin's okay?"

"Yes, it's about Si. What.. what do I get him for Christmas?"

A bark of laughter escapes his lips, "So *tha's* who ya got? I'd reckon you dressin' up in some nice little lingerie would work just fine."

You huff out and roll those pretty little eyes, scoffing, "John! I need to get him an *actual* gift."

"Take pictures--wallet sized, yeah? He'd like that."

You scoff again and shake you head, before John adds, "I'd like tha' as well, yeah?"

He laughs and smirks and you can practically hear that smirk through the phone, "Goodbye, John."

"Oh- come on, lovie! Don't even act like tha's not true," He tries to respond, "I love you?"

You chuckle, getting up to pace, "Love you too, John. You and Simon should come to my dorm, we'll cuddle until Simon's asleep and you and I can talk Christmas some more."

He huffs out a laugh, "Cuddle," he says like it's impossible. You hang up the phone and sigh, sitting down on your bed.

What *could* you get Simon? I mean, he's so... avoidant of gifts. Maybe a good coat? Maybe an inside joke?

You rack your brain so hard it could explode as you wait for Simon and John to come back to your quarters for your nightly cuddle before it dawns on you.

*A kiss the cook apron.*

He loves those, always making jokes and no matter if you are or are not all deployed, John doesn't cook because Simon won't let you or him *anywhere* near the kitchen. He'd *love* it.

Cut to the exchange day, and everyone is laughing and excited. Why wouldn't they be?

You present to Simon is wrapped nicely in one of those shirt boxes they sell, it has a pretty bow and a nicely written name tag.

Your gift was from Johnny and was a new mug so you "stop stealing his," which made you laugh.

Kyle got from John a proper coat, because everyone knows that that man does NOT take care of himself.

Kyle got Johnny a pair of thick gloves for work so his hands don't get worse.

Then Simon opens his gift, while you're curled up on John's lap. You're biting you lip, looking nervous.

Then he sees the apron, unfolding it and letting out a laugh. He never laughs, so everyone looked *incredibly* surprised, but he showed it off.

And of course he knew it was you, so he tossed John his gift and opened his arms for you.

He got John an eye mask, so he'd stop complaining about how dark it is, and hopefully stop snoring as much.

You end up snuggled up to Simon's side, everyone chatting about. You steal a sip from John's got cocoa, and he comes over and wraps his arms around both of you in a bear hug.

Simon leans down and whispers into your ear, "I promise 'll use your gift, dovie."

You lean up with a grin, kissing his cheek, "Thanks, Si."