#Please let me your thoughts about this fic

[headkiss]

it’s christmas (this is gonna be a nightmare)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve puts a little too much pressure on himself to make this holiday a magical one. or: 4 times steve messes up your first christmas together, +1 time it's perfect.

word count: 7.4k

content: established relationship, one injury (no blood!), some kisses, a lot of steve's thoughts, and a love confession <3 fluff all around!!!

a/n: a full length fic!! it's a christmas miracle!! thank you to the anon who sent the ask that inspired this fic and to all of u for being here. i love u, happy holidays <3

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Steve Harrington doesn’t know too much about what exactly a perfect Christmas looks like. He has his parents to thank for that.

What he does know is that this year has to be just that: perfect. Because this year he has you.

Though you went to high school together, you and Steve properly met in the summer. Right at the beginning of it, where the evenings still have a chill of wind but the sun cuts through it with welcomed warmth. Robin convinced him to take her to the flower shop just outside of town, and you’d been behind the counter to greet them.

Robin recognized you, and she chatted your ear off while you helped her pick a bouquet with the sweetest smile Steve had ever seen and he felt like an absolute moron for never having noticed you before at school. But he noticed you then.

He’d forced Robin to wait for him in the car while he stayed back, bought you your own bouquet of flowers from the store as if you weren’t the one who’d made them, and asked you on a date. Steve fumbled the whole way through, pricking himself with a rose thorn and cussing mid-sentence, but you still said yes.

You’ve been together ever since, and Steve feels incredibly lucky for it. Lucky for how kind you are, how well you fit in with his friends, how much the kids (Max, especially, though he won’t call her out on it) like you. Lucky for being allowed to grab your hand, to kiss you whenever he wants.

And, on the nights you stay over that grow more frequent with each month, lucky to have you fill the space in the Harrington home that usually feels so cold and empty.

So, maybe the holidays make him extra sentimental, maybe he cares a little too much about making sure it’s the best damn Christmas you could have. Maybe, for once, he’s actually looking forward to it all.

Robin startles him into the present — leaning on the counter at Family Video — with a stiff poke to the cheek. “Dude, I can literally tell you’re thinking about her by the look on your face. It’s kinda gross.”

He scoffs at her, even though he probably was making a face. “Sounds like jealousy to me, Buckley.”

“Shut up, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know each other! I deserve compensation.”

Steve hangs his head dramatically. Robin is never letting that go. Ever.

“My friendship isn’t enough for you?” Steve says, placing a hand over his heart, “You wound me.”

“You annoy me,” she says, flicking his arm.

“Ow- whatever. You’ll be free of me in like five minutes.”

Steve checks his watch just to be sure. Robin’s closing by herself today, and while Steve would normally just stay and bother her anyways, he’s got plans that involve you and takeout and napping together on his couch.

As if the thought conjures it, you walk through the door, the bell jingling cheerily above your head, Steve’s car keys dangling from your fingertips. (Yes, he lets you drive the BMW.)

“Thank God,” Robin says when she sees it’s you. “Please get rid of him, he’s getting on my nerves.”

You smile and walk towards Steve, who immediately tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you in close, stamping a kiss to the side of your head.

You turn your head to the side and look at him, “What did you do?”

Steve gasps, “Me? Honey, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

You send him a wink, and Steve grins. He fucking loves having you with him, being able to speak without speaking. Your hand grabbing his and squeezing says I missed you, his squeezing back says me too.

“Okay, please remove your public displays of affection from the store and leave me alone with the overplayed Christmas song radio station, thank you.” Robin announces.

“Don’t miss me too much, Robs. I know it’ll be tough,” Steve says, guiding you forward.

“Good to see you, Robin!” you wave on your way out.

“You too!” And just before the door closes behind you, Robin’s voice rings out; “You’re my favourite half of the relationship!”

Your smile widens. Steve is the best thing that’s happened to you, and his friends becoming yours is one of the greatest bonuses you could ask for. It’s like his life made room for you as simply as the ocean’s tide pulls in and out. Gentle and certain.

He catches the keys when you toss them to him, and Steve’s mood just seems to lift and lift on the drive back to his place with you in the passenger seat, Christmas lights lining the streets glowing on your cheeks.

Yeah, he thinks, this Christmas is going to be perfect.

-

1.

That weekend Steve calls you and tells you to be ready by noon and to dress warmly. He doesn’t tell you much else besides his usual ‘see you soon, honey’ or ‘miss you’ murmured sweetly through the phone.

As instructed, you’re dressed in a pair of jeans and one of your favourite knitted sweaters, your brown leather jacket overtop and socked feet stuffed into your Doc Martens. Though you feel plenty warm, Steve will probably fuss over you and hold you close for body heat anyways. And, well, you’d never be opposed to that.

Steve’s BMW rolls into your driveway exactly one minute past twelve, and by the time you walk outside to meet him, he’s already standing on the passenger side of the car waiting to open the door for you.

“Always a gentleman,” you say, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

You slide into the seat that’s become yours for the most part, and Steve ducks down to kiss you properly on the mouth before pulling back, “Mm maybe not always.”

He closes your door and you laugh lightly, your face a little warm even though he’s been your boyfriend for months now. You don’t think you’ll ever be unaffected by Steve Harrington’s charm, ever be used to it being aimed at you.

Of course, you knew of him in school, but knowing the real thing, the kind, caring boy who’d been buried under King Steve back then, is probably the greatest gift you’ve ever had.

Steve drives with one hand just above your knee, his thumb running back and forth over the stitching in your jeans. Still, he doesn’t tell you where he’s taking you, his only hint was to “pay attention to the radio station.”

It’s playing Christmas music. Like that narrows things down a whole bunch.

You chat the entire way. Steve asks you how the flower shop is doing (“Poinsettias are flying off the shelves”), you ask him who he got for the group’s secret Santa this year (“Max. I’m going to need your assistance”). It’s so easy to talk to him, to laugh and joke and not have to worry about what you say or how you come off.

You never knew being with someone could be so easy until Steve.

Eventually, he pulls into the long driveway of a farm. A Christmas tree farm, to be exact, if the wooden arch you drive through is to be trusted.

“What are you planning, Harrington?”

He shrugs, his hand squeezing your knee, “Thought we could pick out a tree together. Put it up at the house. My parents aren’t gonna be around — shocker, I know — I figured we’d do it together. Make it our own.”

Steve pats your leg before letting it go and putting the car in park, his palms dragging over his thighs like he’s suddenly nervous.

“Our first Christmas tree,” you say quietly, almost to yourself, a smile creeping onto your face. He really is sweet. “I love it. Let’s go adopt a tree, Stevie.”

He flashes you a smile before getting out and jogging around the hood to open your door for you. You’ve learned to wait for him to do it since you’ve been together. The last time you tried to open your own door he made you close it again just so he could be the one to open it.

Before, you’d never really cared about that sort of thing, but Steve has single-handedly raised your expectations.

He grabs your hand and leads you towards the classic red and white barn, following the signs painted simply with a tree and an arrow pointing you in that direction.

When you turn the corner and see the selection of trees, however, Steve pauses.

There are maybe seven trees left, none of which are very impressive upon first glance. Their branches are skinny and the pine needles leave a lot of space to see through them. It’s safe to say these aren’t the Christmas trees Steve was hoping to surprise you with.

He was sure there’d be something better left, at least. And he’d been wrong. Minus a point on that perfect Christmas, he supposes.

Still, he walks you to the selection, the farm’s employee greeting the two of you as you walk up; “Hey y’all. Good afternoon!”

“Hey man,” Steve starts, “you wouldn’t happen to have any more trees left, would you?”

“Sorry folks, this is all we’ve got. Most people like to get ‘em early.”

Steve’s hope dwindles, and you can see him deflate a little bit.

You, however, don’t mind one bit. You tug on his arm to get his attention, and Steve turns to look at you, brown eyes shining like honey in the sunlight. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “Even the little trees need homes, right?”

He shakes his head with a small smile. It’s cute, he thinks, the way you tend to talk about plants as if they have feelings. You do it when you tell him about the flowers you sell, too.

“Right as usual, honey,” he decides. “Pick your favorites.”

So, you wind up with two small Christmas trees rather than one full one, and there’s a small victory in it when you and Steve strap them both to the top of the BMW without too much of a struggle.

Another victory when you sing along to ‘Last Christmas’ and hold out your fist as if there’s a microphone in your grip to get him to join you. Admittedly, it isn’t a very good rendition, but Steve loves it all the same.

You have a way of turning things around for him, even without knowing it.

When you get back to Steve’s, he brings both of the trees inside and sets them up before bringing down the bins of ornaments and lights from the attic. He only shouted once when a spider crawled over his hand.

Having two trees makes it easy to turn decorating into a lighthearted competition. You both claim one as your own and decorate them with string lights and tinsel and ornaments. Steve’s mom would probably have an aneurysm seeing them used so haphazardly.

Though by the end, your tree is definitely prettier, Steve still feels like he’s won something as you lean your back against his chest and his arms cross over your own, keeping you there.

As a kid, he wasn’t even allowed to do the decorating. Mrs. Harrington had to make everything look picture perfect, and Steve’s hands didn’t help with that. Not according to her.

Today couldn’t feel more different from those memories of his childhood.

“Yours is better,” he tells you, chin perched on your shoulder, his voice low in your ear.

Objectively, it probably is better (your prior experience with arranging plants was an advantage), but you don’t actually care about that.

Today felt like a little glimpse into the future you and Steve could have. It’s easy to picture it: your own apartment, buying decorations you both actually like, setting it all up together every year.

“I think they’re both brilliant,” you say.

And while today wasn’t what he was picturing, wasn’t what he’d hoped for with his ideal holiday in mind, Steve finds that he can certainly live with that. Your adorable little clap when you’d finished decorating was enough to cement it.

It’s only one thing. He’s got plenty of chances to be perfect later, he guesses.

Steve dips his head and kisses the top of your shoulder over your sweater.

-

2.

You stay over at Steve’s that weekend. You’re both off work, and you find yourself spending your days (and nights) off with Steve more and more.

In the morning, you blink your eyes open slowly, naturally. No alarm set, your boy wrapped around you. It’s how you’ll spend every morning someday.

The sunlight sneaks through a crack in the curtains, cutting a line across Steve’s blue bedding. You squint at it, shifting onto your back gently. Steve’s arm remains slung over your waist as you move, his knee against your leg. You roll your head to the side to look at him, a smile creeping over your mouth at the way his cheek is smushed into the pillow, his lips pouting and hair a mess over his forehead.

Mornings have easily become your favorite time to spend with Steve. He’s cuddling you in some way every single time without fail, even when he wakes up. His voice is all low and gravelly from sleep and it feels like an honor to get to be the one to hear it like that. Usually, you spend an hour in bed with him after waking up. Laying together, talking, kissing. Sometimes (often) more.

You’d stay put right now if you didn’t have to pee so bad.

Slipping out of bed without Steve noticing proves a challenge, his arm tightens over you in his sleep, his brows scrunching. You whisper a soft “I’ll be right back.” He mumbles something incoherent, but his arm relaxes and you’re able to sneak away.

On your way back from the bathroom, you pause and take a peek out the window. You gasp happily at what you see: snow. A bright, white layer blanketing the ground sparkling in the sunlight.

You turn back to the bed and let yourself fall to it with a bounce, earning another grumbled protest from Steve, but there’s no way you’re going back to sleep now. You trail a hand up his arm to his shoulder, giving it a small shake, “Stevie, wake up.”

“Hm?” his eyes scrunch before opening. “What happened, honey?”

“It snowed!”

“Yeah?” he huffs a laugh at your excitement, his hand searching for yours in the sheets.

“Yeah, and it’s so pretty. We should go out before it melts.”

“It’s winter, sweetheart. Not gonna melt that fast.”

“Steve.”

“Okay, okay,” his hand leaves yours in favor of wrapping itself around you again, and he uses it to tug you close again. “Just five more minutes.”

His nose is pressed to the top of your head, and he breathes you in, smiling to himself. Mornings are Steve’s favorite, too. Only when they’re spent with you.

Secretly, he’s also happy about the snow. He was hoping mother nature would be on his side so that he could check yet another holiday item off his list with you. Hopefully one that will turn out nicer than the tiny trees you’d ended up with.

It’s definitely more than five minutes by the time you get Steve to get up and out of bed. You attempt to get him outside right away. He stops you with a: “No snow-related activities on an empty stomach!”

So, it’s a rushed breakfast of bagels and coffee provided by Steve, and then you’re gearing up and heading into the back yard.

The cold bites at your cheeks, and the tip of Steve’s nose is pink within minutes, but you love it.

There’s a snowman built together, snow angels made that get ruined when Steve rolls himself on top of you and steals a kiss or five. Naturally, all there is left to do is have a snowball fight.

You start it when you’re still on the ground, a hand sneaking into the snow to grab a handful and pressing it to the back of Steve’s head. He gasps, and you take the opportunity to push him to the side and get up.

“No fair!” he calls. “I was distracted and you went for the hair.”

“Your fault for not wearing a hat, babe,” you laugh.

“Oh, you won’t be laughing for long, honey. You’re in for it.”

And just like that, you’re running around like kids in a schoolyard, hiding behind trees, slugging snowballs at each other and cheering when you manage to not miss.

Steve silently thanks mother nature or the universe or whatever made it snow for the wide smile on your face, your eyes shining with mirth.

At one point, you’re suddenly distracted by something in the trees, and the snowball is out of Steve’s hand before he sees you start to look towards him again.

It hits you square in the face.

A quick “Ow” comes out of your mouth, though it really doesn’t hurt that bad. Your first reaction is just to let it slip, but Steve’s heart sinks to his stomach.

“Shit, honey.” He runs over to you and cups your face in his hands, his mittens soft against your skin as he brushes the snow from your face. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to get you in the face.”

Minus another point, for sure. Perfect Christmas: -2.

“I know, don’t worry,” you tell him, because he clearly is worrying.

“You okay?” he checks. He literally winces when you sniffle, frowns when he sees the way your eyes water. “Honey. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, Steve, I’m fine,” you reach up and grab his wrists, squeezing them over his jacket. “I’m only crying ‘cause it got my nose. It doesn’t actually hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you assure him. “Didn’t you used to play sports in school? Thought athletes had better aim.”

“I was a swimmer, baby. No projectiles involved.” He smiles softly when you laugh, but he can’t stop himself from asking one more time. “You’re really not hurt?”

“It’s just a bit of snow, Stevie.”

His eyes run over your face anyway before he nods. Then, he dips forwards and lightly kisses your cheek, the other, the tip of your nose, and your mouth.

“Well now I’m certainly all better,” you say against his lips.

Steve pulls back but doesn’t go far. “I think this snowball fight is over.”

“Buzzkill,” you tease.

He bends down and picks up a handful of snow before shoving it in his own face.

“Steve!” you laugh.

“There, now we’re even,” he says, snowflakes clinging to his lashes.

You let him lead you inside after that, his arm draping over your shoulders, yours hugging his middle as you walk across the yard.

Once you’ve both shed your layers of coats and boots and hats and mittens, Steve takes you upstairs and runs you a bath to warm you up. He apologizes another two times when he looks at your face for too long, and you have to kiss him to stop him uttering another ‘sorry.’

Hell, if it’s gonna make him this sweet on you, you’d probably take a snowball to the face any day.

Eventually, when the bathtub is full, a layer of bubbles over the surface, you coax Steve into joining you. He leans against the side with you between his knees, back settling into its home against his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

Steve runs his hands over your shoulders, presses kisses into your hair. All along he’s reminding himself that the next thing will go right. He won’t be throwing anything, at least.

-

3.

The next weekend Steve calls you again. He asks you to be ready in the evening this time, but still keeps things vague other than the fact that you’ll be outside and need thick socks.

You have a pretty good idea of what he has in mind, but he’d called it a ‘redemption date’ over the phone and even though you truly don’t think he has anything to redeem himself for, you don’t want to spoil his plans, so you play along.

He comes to the front door when he picks you up this time, knocking gently as if you hadn’t been waiting for him by the windows.

“Hi, honey,” he drops a quick kiss to your lips, “had to come and approve your outfit. Don’t want you getting cold and stealing my jacket again.”

He’s lying, really. Steve fucking loves draping his own jacket over your shoulders and seeing you pull it tighter around you. When that happens, he braves the cold, but he figures that probably won’t be smart for spending hours outside.

“Aww, but yours is so much warmer than mine,” you pout jokingly.

Steve simply grabs your thickest jacket from a hook by the door and holds it out for you to slip your arms into.

As suspected, he drives you to a skating rink. He chose one a town over from Hawkins, where they have twinkle lights strung above the rink and rainbow Christmas lights lining the boards. Steve smiles when you gasp lightly in delight at the sight of it. The brightness cutting through the already dark night sky.

Steve guides you over to the skate rental booth first, bumping his hip into yours when you attempt to pay for the rentals. “As if. My idea, my wallet.”

“You don’t even let me pay when it’s my idea, either.”

“Well, that’s just chivalry, babe.”

You roll your eyes at him and thank the man behind the booth when he hands you both your skates. As you walk towards the lockers and cubbies set up nearby, you lean up and kiss Steve’s cheek, his light stubble scratching your lips.

“Thank you for this,” you say.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he tells you. “Though I should warn you that I’m not very good at this.”

“What? You, not good at something? Please.”

“No, seriously. I’m like bambi on ice.”

You laugh and shove his shoulder weakly, “Don’t worry. I’m probably even worse.”

Steve grins. So far, so good. This one will be perfect. Well, as perfect as it can be considering his skating skills.

You sit on one of the benches and Steve puts both of your shoes in one of the cubbies. He ties his own skates first before kneeling in front of you to help you with yours. He knows how to tie them, at the very least.

He helps you slip your feet into the skates first, then tightens the laces on one before peering up at you and checking, “Feel okay? Not too tight?”

“It’s good, Steve. I feel like Cinderella.”

“A perfect fit! She must be the one!”

“Dork.”

“That’s prince dork to you.”

Steve finishes up with your skates, squeezing your ankle before setting your foot down and standing back up.

On the ice, neither of you are very graceful. You hold onto the boards most of the time, and Steve stumbles and nearly falls every few strides, but you’re laughing and having fun, so who cares?

So what if you get lapped by multiple people on the rink, including children? So what if you get some side eyes for being too slow or in the way? Neither of you can bring yourselves to be bothered.

Best of all, Steve keeps a hold on your hand the entire time. He literally saves you from falling with his grip on your hand squeezing and pulling you up straight.

However, your hands being clasped also means that, inevitably, when one of you goes down, you both do.

It happens after a decent amount of laps; your toe pick catches on a dip in the ice and it’s all it takes for you to lose your balance. Steve somehow twists himself to catch the brunt of your fall.

He expected that to come with some pain, a couple bruises, maybe. Instead, his wrist twists painfully against the ice as he falls, as if he’d tried to catch himself with it, and he can’t help the hiss of pain that comes out when he lands.

“You okay, honey?” he asks you.

“Of course I am. I landed on you, Stevie. Are you okay?”

He tests his wrist out by flexing it, wiggling his fingers, and he tries to hide it but he winces when he does, a sharp pain shooting up his arm. “M’fine.”

“Bullshit, I saw that wince, Harrington.” You manage to get back up on your feet and hold out a hand for him to grab, “Up, I’m taking you to the ER.”

“No, no. I’m good.”

“Steve.”

“Baby.”

“Come on, you don’t want to make it worse, do you?” you urge him. “Plus, I’ll only keep worrying and bugging you about it until you let me take you to the doctor. Your wrist is already swelling, babe.”

Mostly because he doesn’t like the thought of you worrying about him, Steve agrees.

When both of your skates are off (your doing, this time) and given back to the booth, you reach into Steve’s coat pocket and grab the keys to the BMW. He doesn’t protest, and that alone tells you he must be hurting more than he’s letting on. You even manage to open your own door for once.

Steve’s quiet on the drive to the hospital, his hand resting limply on his leg. His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut every so often when a burst of pain comes. You do your best to avoid any pot holes or bumps along the way.

Once there, you make him sit in one of the waiting room chairs, “I’ll get the check in forms and everything. Stay put, yeah?”

“Your wish is my command,” he says, trying to joke. His voice wobbles a tiny bit, though.

It’s at least an hour of waiting before someone can see him (and that’s including your many pesterings to the front desk). You don’t mean to be a bother, but you’ve never seen Steve injured in any serious capacity, and it’s messing with your head.

He took the weight of that fall to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt. The way he pays attention to things like that is one of the many reasons you love him.

You love him. You haven’t said the words to each other yet, but you’ve felt them for a long time already. It’s hard not to love Steve Harrington.

Finally, the doctor takes him back, and you follow. After an x-ray and some prodding, he determines that it’s a sprained wrist and that he should keep it wrapped for a few weeks to make sure it heals. They give him a prescription for some mild painkillers, too, for the first couple of days.

You breathe a sigh of relief knowing it isn’t broken, but Steve’s shoulders are still slumped.

He’s in pain, sure, his wrist now wrapped up in a tensor bandage, but really he feels defeated at messing yet another thing up. Third strike.

Steve lets you guide him back to the car and drive back to his place. You’ve decided you’re staying the night to take care of him, and as much as he hates looking weak or feeling useless, he’s glad to have you around.

You dote on him back at home, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer after making sure he’s settled on the couch, throwing a frozen pizza in the oven, bringing him meds and water.

“Honey, it’s just a sprain. Please stop fussing and sit with me.”

His brown eyes shine a little, and you could never say no to him when he looks at you like that.

You sit beside him and he drops his head to your shoulder, your hand coming up to play with the strands at the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp gently. His uninjured hand rests on your thigh and squeezes.

“Best painkiller ever,” he says.

-

4.

Steve has convinced himself that nothing could possibly go wrong this time around.

His plans for today involve staying at home, just you and him, no outside forces to deal with or avoid. So much less potential for failure. That’s what he thinks, at least.

Steve knows nearly every piece of you, so, obviously he knows you like to bake. You’d made him a cake for his birthday, and every so often you bring him other treats from home. Naturally, that meant that there was no way he was leaving out Christmas baking.

He’d considered doing gingerbread houses, and then remembered that the last time he tried that in a competition with the kids, his house was nothing more than a messy pile of gingerbread slabs. One with a bite taken out of it.

So, considering his past failures this holiday season, he’d settled on something that he thinks — hopes — is really hard to mess up: sugar cookies.

His mother’s collection of cookbooks had never been used for more than decoration until now. Steve searched through them until he found a recipe, wrote down the ingredients, and bought them at the grocery store to make sure he had everything.

In school, he never did much studying, but he reread the hell out of that recipe in order to get at least this one thing right.

The tensor bandage is still wrapped around his wrist, which is fucking annoying, really. He has to adjust it every day, and it’s hard to do with a single hand. He much prefers when you do it for him, sealing it with a featherlight kiss.

Worse, the thing still hurts, and you refused to let him drive and put more strain on it than necessary, so you took the bus and walked the rest of the way to his house.

He’s got all of the ingredients and tools laid out on the island when you ring the doorbell. “Hurry up, Harrington, it’s freezing!”

Hurry he does. He lets you in and helps you unwrap yourself from your bundle of a scarf and hat and mittens and jacket. Steve dips in to kiss your cheek, your skin cold against his lips. “Wouldn’t have to freeze if you let me come get you.”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself for no reason, I’m fine,” you grab his uninjured hand and kiss the pads of his fingers, “and I like these hands.”

He smiles at your words, smug, “Yeah, I know you do, honey.”

You shake your head at him, but you’re smiling all the same, “I take it back. Your ego is getting too big.”

“Nooo, it’s just the right size,” he winks.

“Don’t you have plans, Steve?” you ask, changing the subject. “Getting a little off track, aren’t we?”

“Later, then,” he says, taking your hand with his good one and leading you to the kitchen.

You pause at the entryway of the kitchen, scanning over the things on the island, two aprons Steve must’ve dug up from somewhere hanging from the knobs of the cabinets.

“Tada,” he says, “we’re making cookies.”

“This might be my favourite one yet, Stevie.” You walk over and grab one of the aprons, leaving the other (a pink floral number) for Steve. “I’m in charge, though.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, taking the other apron without a complaint. “This is your kitchen today, chef.”

“Mm. That has a nice ring to it.”

“Chef honey,” he says, planting a kiss where your neck meets your shoulder, breath warm even through your shirt.

You get started after that. Predictably, you make a mess with flour on the island and mixing bowls strewn about the surface. You get distracted with a bit of a flour war somewhere in there, Steve smudging it onto your cheek, you onto the tip of his nose.

When it’s time to roll out the dough and cut out the cookies, Steve grabs a handful of cookie cutters from one of the drawers, setting them onto the counter with a small clang. They’re all holiday themed. Candy canes and snowmen and Christmas trees.

“Someone’s prepared,” you say, bumping your hip against his.

“I run a serious establishment here, baby.”

“I thought I was in charge.”

Soon enough, after sneaking bites of raw cookie dough and cutting out as many cookies as you could manage, they’re placed into the oven, the timer set.

You end up in the living room, a random channel playing on the TV while the cookies bake. It starts innocently enough, just sitting next to each other, shoulders and thighs pressed together.

Then, Steve’s good hand wanders, starting above your knee and moving up and up until he’s squeezing the top of your thigh, tracing patterns with his thumb. When he speaks a husky, “Come closer?” how could you ever say no?

So, somehow, you’ve ended up straddling Steve’s lap, his injured hand resting loosely on your waist, the other pressed in between your shoulder blades to keep you close. Yours are in his hair, running through the strands, tugging even.

It grows heated fast, and all of a sudden you’re making out like a pair of teenagers, Steve urging you to press further down in his lap, to writhe there while his mouth works yours until it’s all you can think about. All you can feel.

The room feels warmer, Steve’s jeans tighter over his lap, your chest bumping against his, hearts racing. Even just kissing him feels better than anything you’ve ever had in the past.

He kisses you like he’s starved everytime, sometimes a ravenous hunger, like now, or, when he’s gentler, something tender and soft. A sweet tooth.

The cookies are long forgotten. The timer sounds and nobody hears it. You would keep going forever, if you could. But then there’s the smell that hits your nostrils. The smell of something burning.

“Steve?” you say against his mouth.

“Uh-huh?” he breathes.

“Do you smell that?”

He pulls back, and it’s immediately after you say the words that the alarm goes off, piercing through the air, killing the mood, much to your dismay. Even more to Steve’s.

“Fuck,” he groans.

You’re both rushing to the kitchen then. You, fumbling off his lap, him beating you to the kitchen and frantically taking the baking sheet out of the oven and turning the thing off. You grab a towel from the counter and start fanning beneath the alarm to get it to go off, and when the cookies are dealt with, Steve joins the efforts.

Eventually the thing stops beeping, and you both rest your arms. The room still looks a little cloudy, the cookies black at the edges.

Steve doesn’t say anything, only rests his elbows on the island and slumps his head, defeated.

He’s so frustrated with himself. Not for kissing you. No, he could never be mad at that, but at the outcome of his final attempt at a holiday date going south again.

You frown at him, walking over and placing a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. “Steve? You okay?”

“I just- I messed it up again.”

“Hey, I’m as much to blame as you are. It takes two to tango, as they say.”

He huffs a weak laugh, picking his head up and twisting to look at you. Your pretty face, eyes nothing but kind. Fuck, he loves you, and he just wanted to show you that. To make Christmas as magical as it's supposed to be.

“I really wanted it to go well, you know?”

You realize then that he’s not only talking about today. That he’s been putting this pressure on himself all month to make plans and something has happened every time. You don’t blame him for that, if anything, it makes your heart ache with adoration.

“Steve, it doesn’t matter to me. Things happen, it’s okay,” you kiss his bicep lightly. “I’d rather things go a bit wrong with you than to have them go right with someone else. You are the best part.”

“I-” love you, he almost says. But he doesn’t want the first time to be like this, in a room that still stinks. “You’re the best part for me too, honey.”

You decide that next time, it’s your turn to do something for him.

-

+1

Steve comes home from work on Christmas Eve, eyes tired and feet hurting despite having worn relatively comfortable shoes today.

He’d tried to get the day off, tried to be able to spend it with you in bed for hours and hours and not getting up until the afternoon. Keith had other plans for him.

He even tried to dramatize his wrist injury. Still, he was forced to go in.

Walking up the driveway, Steve sees the glow of lights inside filtering through the curtains. He’s fairly certain he hadn’t left any on, but he also knows he’s often wrong about these things, so he shrugs it off and goes inside.

There’s noise coming from the living room. Crackling of the fireplace that he barely ever uses, music playing quietly, and then he hears you humming along.

“Honey?”

“Yup, it’s me!”

You know where the spare key is, Steve’s the one who told you the information and encouraged you to use it, but you’ve often been too nervous to do so. Not today, it seems.

While Steve was at work, you’d set up your plan for him.

He follows the sound of your voice without much of a thought, a moth drawn to a flame. When he turns into the living room, he stills.

There are strings of warm white Christmas lights hung about, the fireplace is actually housing a fire, and in front of it is a fort made up of red and green and white blankets and pillows. Some plaid, some with snowflakes, all Christmas themed.

“Did you do all of this?” he asks, walking slowly to where you stand by the fort.

“Figured it was my turn to organize a date, don’t you think?”

“Baby. This is all really sweet, but wha-”

You cut him off, “Uh-uh. Let me explain.” You reach for Steve’s hands, and he meets you in the middle willingly. Suddenly nervous, you shift your weight on your feet. “I thought we could do presents a little early.”

His brows scrunch, “But Christmas is tomorrow.”

“Please?” you ask, squeezing his hands once.

And, really, Steve would never say no to you. Especially not when you’re saying ‘please’ all sweet and delicate like that.

“Okay,” he says. “Yours is in my room. I’ll go grab it. And change; I smell like Family Video.”

“‘Kay, Stevie.”

You kiss his cheek before he goes for good measure.

Steve is confused the entire time, wondering what it could be that you’re up to, but he does as he said he would. You’d been wearing a set of pyjamas (one he loves on you; a soft baby blue pair of shorts with a matching sweater), so he goes for one of his pairs of plaid pants and a plain t shirt before grabbing your messily wrapped gift bag from where he’d hidden it under his bed.

Back in the living room, he finds you now settled on the ground of the fort, which you’d lined with fuzzy blankets and the biggest of the pillows. His gift is sat beside you, a gift box wrapped in a lovely bow. Your skills of wrapping bouquets are transferable, he’s learned.

He joins you, sitting across from you, but close enough that your legs tangle and knees bump.

“You go first,” you tell him.

“Okay,” he scratches the back of his neck, handing you the gift bag. “Let me explain it before you say anything.”

That grabs your attention, but your plans aren’t about his present to you, really, and you know you’ll love it no matter what because Steve knows you better than anyone.

You lift out tissue paper first, uncovering multiple different things inside the bag, also wrapped. It pieces together as you go. A toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, your entire skincare routine, a couple of pyjama and underwear sets.

“It’s so you don’t have to bring an overnight bag every time you stay over now. I, um, cleared out a couple of drawers in my dresser and the bathroom.”

“Steve,” you look at him, heart squeezing. It’s so thoughtful, so him, and you surge forward you wrap your arms around his neck and breathe into his skin, “I love it. Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Perfect.

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do,” you sit back into your spot. “You know I hate carrying things.”

“I never let you carry anything, honey.”

“Exactly,” you nod. Now, you hold out his gift for him to take, “Your turn.”

You watch Steve’s hands as he tugs the bow undone, then lifts the lid of the box.

Nestled inside are four delicate ornaments. A Christmas tree, a snowman, an ice skate, and a plate of cookies. One for every date he’d planned for you.

Steve frowns at them, not because he doesn’t like them, but because he doesn’t quite understand where you’re going with this.

“I thought it was time we started collecting our own ornaments. For our place, one day,” you tell him.

“They’re lovely, but honey you- you really wanna remember these things?“ he shakes his head, more at himself than you. “I messed ‘em all up.”

“There’s one more thing in there,” you say quietly.

The thing you're nervous about. A thing you’ve never said out loud before.

Steve finds it beneath one of the ornaments, a small piece of paper folded up. When he opens that, his heart stutters in his chest. Written in your handwriting are three words: I love you.

He blinks away from the paper to look at you, though his thumb continues to trace the words absentmindedly. “Honey-”

“I love you, Steve. Okay?” You shift closer, kneeling at his side, your hands coming up to frame his jaw, your fingers kind against his skin. “I don’t care that things didn’t go how you planned. I mean, I would rather you didn’t require an ER visit, but the point is that I don’t need things to be perfect. And I know you’ve been hard on yourself trying to make them so.”

He lets go of the paper and reaches up to grasp your wrists, his thumb finding your racing pulse. His uninjured hand holds on tighter than the other.

“Thank you for trying for me,” you continue, “for caring. But no matter what happens, things are perfect for me. Because I get to do them with you. Got that, Harrington? You’re perfect, and I love you, and-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. It’s a simple but firm press of his lips against yours, but it says enough.

“I fucking love you too, honey,” he says, his forehead against yours, lips only a breath apart. “You saying all of that it means — you mean a lot to me.”

“Yeah, well, I meant it.”

“I know you did,” he nods. Steve pulls back the tiniest bit to be able to see your face fully, his sweet brown eyes locked on yours. “I wanted our first Christmas to be perfect, and I didn’t wanna let you down, but you’re right. They were perfect, because you’re here. And I love you for bein’ here.”

“As long as you’ll have me,” you say. You push his hair off his forehead before letting go of his face and sitting back, “Why don’t you give those ornaments a try?”

“On those trees?” he asks, eyebrows lifted, voice joking.

“Steve.”

”Okay, okay.”

He picks up the skate first. Surprising, considering that one had ended in a physical injury for him, but you say nothing and watch him walk over to your little trees by the window. You join him, sitting on the arm of the couch nearby while he scans over the tree.

“Pick a spot, handsome,” you encourage. “There’s really no wrong answer here.”

He goes to hang the first ornament, hand wavering before setting on a branch.

“Well, maybe not-” Steve tackles you onto the couch before you can finish. You dissolve into giggles as he pokes at your ribs, his head on your chest.

Steve’s done keeping score.

Perfect Christmas. That’s it.

⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇

thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed please please consider leaving a comment and/or a reblog and letting me know what you thought! it would mean a bunch of<3

[babejinxy]

In love with you - part 2

Pairing: Powder x fem!reader

Warnings: friends to lovers, SMUT, kissing, fluff 

Synopsis: Powder had been your best friend for years, the two of you met when she was running from the cops when she and her brothers broke into and blew up an apartment in Piltover and you helped them escape. What you never imagined, is that the love of your life was always right there in front of you…

A/N: This is a fic about Powder from the alternate universe, it has nothing to do with Jinx.

🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.

Part 1

💙 @brocoliisscared @bbybubbles @cattjull

Powder was in her workshop working on a project with Ekko when you walked in, making her stop working and look back, she smiled when she saw you. You walked past Ekko, giving him a quick hi, and went to your friend. “Working too hard?” you asked as you wiped a grease stain off her face. Powder felt her skin crawling at your touch near her mouth. “How about a break? Movies, sleepovers, braids on hair? What do you say, huh?”

Powder just couldn't say no to you, how could she? After all, you were her best friend and the person she secretly loved, all she wanted was to keep you close, if not in a romantic way, then she would still have you as her best friend and could simply look at you, dream about you, touch you even if in a subtle way, a friendly way... That's why she never revealed her feelings, she didn't want to lose you, above all you were her best friend, she needed you as a friend too. “Ok, you got me with the braids,” Powder joked. “How stupid of you,” you said with a laugh. “You’re the one who said baby.” You always ignored whatever flared up inside you every time she called you pet names because it shouldn’t mean anything.

“Movies?” Ekko’s voice echoed from the other side of the room, you looked at him, “I don’t want to miss this, can I go too?” You knew that what he really wanted was a chance for a second date with Powder and maybe she wanted that too, but she was just being proud. In reality, you couldn’t know the dissatisfaction she felt inside when you happily agreed to let him go with the two of you. 

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚  ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔

Powder was sitting on your bed watching you as you put on your makeup, Ekko was sitting in an armchair in the corner of your room flipping through a physics book he took from your shelf. You took advantage of the heat to wear a short dress that showed off your thighs and highlighted your curves. Powder tried not to look too much or at least be as discreet as possible, but it was getting harder and harder. You took your cherry lip gloss and applied it to your lips, pressing them together to spread the lip gloss. Powder looked away and took a deep breath. God, how she wanted to taste the cherry on your lips.

“Hey Pow Pow, can you tie my dress, please? The straps are loose,” you asked as you sprayed on your perfume. She approached you from behind and pulled the ties of your dress to undo the bow and then retied it again, tightening the ties tighter this time. Her fingers brushing against your skin made your skin shiver, she on the other hand, made a point of touching your soft skin. She always thought about what it would be like to undress you, those thoughts drove her crazy.

“I love the smell of your perfume, it’s so good,” she said finally, resting her hands on your waist and nuzzling your neck to smell you. This was much more intimate than a best friend’s affection, Ekko would have noticed if he hadn’t been too focused on your book. Moments like this weren’t uncommon between the two of you, it happened sometimes. You ignored the signs because Powder was your best friend and this was just her way of showing affection and if you thought otherwise, it was because you were too needy and you knew it. Powder was nothing more than a caring friend who liked to compliment and touch a little too much.

You smiled and put your hands in hers only to remove them from your waist. "You should wear it once in a while since you like it." You said, moving away from her and grabbing your bag. Powder laughed a little to herself, either you were playing dumb or you were simply a fucking dumbass and didn't understand her advances on you or maybe... maybe you just didn't notice it because you didn't want her like she wanted you and that specific thought always brought her back to reality, that she was an idiot in love with her best friend.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚  ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

You arrived at the cinema and bought your tickets and popcorn. Powder as usual, bought a strawberry and cream milkshake. She sat in an armchair between you and Ekko. Of course he wanted the seat next to her. “When did this become a date between them and I was the third wheel?” You thought and laughed to yourself. “What are you laughing at?” Ekko asked, tilting his head to look at you. “Nothing,” you replied, pursing your lips. You looked at Powder and noticed that she was tense. You thought about making an excuse and leaving them alone, but you wanted to watch this movie too much for that.

The movie was about comic book heroes and the three of you shared this passion, so as soon as the movie started you were all very apprehensive and entertained. Or at least that's what you thought. You were the only one entertained by the movie, you only moved your hand to grab the popcorn and bring it to your mouth, your eyes never leaving the big screen. You didn't notice that Powder was looking much more at your legs, now very exposed by the dress that rode up when you sat down, she imagined herself between them. "Damn Powder, focus on the movie", she thought to herself. When she finally pushed her dirty thoughts away and focused on the movie, she felt Ekko's hand on hers and his gaze fixed on her. She understood what he was getting at and immediately pulled her hand away from his and kept her eyes on the movie. He snorted and adjusted in his seat to go back to watching the movie.

After a while, you rested your head on Powder's shoulders and your scent that she loved completely infested her and she had difficulty concentrating on the movie again. She wrapped her arms around your neck and you snuggled even closer to her. This gesture wasn't strange between you and not even to Ekko, he knew you were close and took it as a friendly gesture, just like you. Just like Powder knew it was, but wished it was something more.

You crossed your legs, making your short dress ride up even higher. This didn't go unnoticed by your friend and she tried to look away and focus on the movie, but it was too difficult, especially since your skin was crawling from the cold air conditioning in the movie theater. She thought she could make your skin crawl too. God, how she wanted you... She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt her insides aching. Was she really getting horny now?

Powder tried hard to change the focus of her thoughts, but it was very difficult with your breathing close to her neck, she looked at you and you were focused on the movie, she wanted to be able to hold your face and kiss you. What would you do if she did that? “I need to go to the bathroom,” she whispered and you pulled away from her. “The movie is almost over, are you going to miss the ending?” you asked in a whisper, but she shook her head.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚  ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

When Powder reached the bathroom, she entered an empty stall and locked the door by leaning against it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying not to think about you too much, but it was too difficult and she needed to relieve herself.

She felt dirty every time she did this, but this was stronger than her. She closed the toilet lid and sat on it, she slipped her hand between her pants and panties and began to play with her own throbbing clit. She closed her eyes at the sensation and bit her lip to keep from moaning as she thrust two fingers inside herself. She sped up the pace of her fingers more and more as she thought about you, your smell, your damn short dress, your legs, she touched herself and imagined herself between them, eating you, fucking you with her fingers, just like she was fucking herself. Nothing would make her come stronger than that.

And then she thought about kissing you and tasting the cherry lip gloss on your lips while your pussy squeezed her fingers and that was when she came, cumming hard on her own fingers.

“Fuck,” she whispered when she was done, removing her fingers from her pants and wiping them with toilet paper. This wasn’t new to her, she’d touched herself plenty of times while thinking about you. But touching herself in a movie theater bathroom, that was new.

You were at the exit door of the cinema with Ekko waiting for Powder to return, the two of you were talking about the movie when she finally appeared. “What took you so long? You missed the end of the movie”, you said when she stopped next to you. “I don’t think milkshakes go with popcorn”, she said massaging her stomach.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚  ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖  𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖   𐙚   ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁

After the movie, you guys went to Zaun and stopped at Vander's bar and ordered some not-too-strong drinks. Gert wasn't working the night shift that day, which Powder was grateful for, so she wouldn't have to see her flirting with you again.

However, Powder's joy didn't last long. Your hexphone vibrated on the table and she could read the message that Caitlyn, your ex-girlfriend, sent you, 

"Hey sweetie, I miss u. I can't wait to see you again ❤️".

Powder never really liked any of the people you dated, but she tolerated them all. But with Cait it was different, she really couldn't stand her and never hid it and for some reason, Cait was the only girlfriend of yours who didn't like your best friend. Maybe she noticed something that the others didn't? You couldn't say, but the hatred between them was mutual and it only got worse when Cait cheated on you with Maddie, she always had a soft spot for younger girls.

You broke up with Cait as soon as you found out about her cheating on you and you were devastated by it. You saw her again two months after the breakup and didn't tell Powder because you knew she would get mad. Not that she was wrong, but you were too needy and afraid of breaking up alone, when in reality you just needed a little self-love.

“Y/n,” she practically screamed, “I can’t believe you’re dating her after everything she did to you.”

“Pow, I didn’t get back together with her, I only went out with her once after that and we text each other sometimes, we’re just…”

Powder sniffed and shook her head in disbelief, “Unbelievable,” she said softly before leaving the table, leaving you and Ekko alone. You looked at Ekko and before he could say anything, you went after Powder.

Ekko finally realized something that only you didn’t notice…

should I continue? 👇🏻👇🏻

merry christmas to all ❤️🎄

[vibelladonna]

𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈'𝓈 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝜗𝜚 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒!

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

This Christmas special was inspired by Valentine's Special [2nd Love Interest] by @fantasia-kitt (the creator!)

For this Christmas, I decided to write this fanfic while running errands with family for the holidays, so please bear with me if there are any mistakes. 

I was thinking about writing something for New Year’s Eve, like a party fic, but I feel like this Christmas special is enough for now while I take a short break and catch up on some upcoming projects (three of them with deep plotlines!).  Also, this ties in with Tkatb’s 1st anniversary, which was yesterday, the 23rd! I’m super proud of how far this little game has come.

And yes, I saw the update on the plans and progress. It looks like I might start working on some of my other favorite fandoms since the game will be on hold until the major update! I’ll still be keeping an eye on the progress as a Soulmate on Patreon, and you can always ask for a fanfic if you’d like! I’ll be responding to the messages in my ask box soon!

Anyway, happy reading! Wishing you all a wonderful holiday season!

The crisp, cool December air wrapped around you like a familiar embrace, the kind that reminded you of winter's quiet power. You stepped out of the lecture hall, your final class a fading echo behind you. 

The world, for a moment, felt as if it had been held in stasis: college was finally behind you, and relief surged through your veins like a slow, satisfying exhale.

You almost burst out laughing at the thought. Thank God that's fucking over. It totally drained you, and ate away at your insides until you felt there was nothing left but pure exhaustion. But then, as it all started to sink in, this weird emptiness crept up, like that quiet moment right before a storm hit.

The goodbyes, those last waves, and parting words were still stuck in your chest, kinda just out of reach, weighing on you like you were still tied to something that wasn’t done.  

Then your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. You looked down at the screen and spotted Brittney’s name.

— Brittney: REMINDER! Gift exchange on Christmas Eve, my place at 7! Don’t be late, or you’ll owe me extra cookies.

You scoffed and let out a soft chuckle. Brittney had this incredible thing for making demands with a level of authority that was, somehow, oddly charming. As much as you rolled your eyes at her, you couldn’t deny that her quirks always brought a smile to your face. Still, as your gaze flicked back to the message, a groan bubbled up in your chest. You scrolled back through her earlier messages to confirm what you already knew. 

"Great," you muttered under your breath. Brittney had really gone all out this year, assigning everyone a specific person to shop for, and, of course, you ended up with Crowe. 

You exhaled, frustration bubbling up. It wasn’t that you didn’t like him—he was one of your closest friends—but trying to find a gift for someone who had everything felt like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands. You could almost hear his voice in your head, teasing, cutting through whatever you picked out: “Really? This is what you think of me?” Of course, he’d never say anything like that—but what if he didn’t like it? What if he hated whatever you got him? The thought twisted uncomfortably in your chest.

You shook your head and continued walking toward the bus stop, the weight of the decision hanging over you. Simple wouldn’t cut it, but anything too over the top would make him throw a sarcastic comment at it. You had to find something that hit that sweet spot—the kind of gift that felt thoughtful without making him retreat into one of his jokes.

As if your thoughts weren’t already tangled enough, your phone buzzed again. You hesitated, almost instinctively glancing down. 

— Hyugo: Hey, what are you doing Christmas Eve? Sol and I are planning to check out the lights walk at the park. You should come!

A smile tugged at your lips. Typical Hyugo—direct, unfiltered, full of energy. His message was as breezy as his personality. And then there was Sol’s name, and that grin only deepened. The two of them together were a comedy show on legs—Sol’s quiet balance countering Hyugo’s endless whirlwind of ideas and antics. 

You stood still, fingers hovering over the screen. Christmas Eve. 

Oh no… For a moment, the thought of walking through the park with them, bathed in twinkling lights, was tempting. It would be the perfect kind of distraction, a night filled with laughter, just as you’d imagine. You pictured Hyugo pulling you and Sol into whatever wild antics he’d planned, Sol trying (and failing) to keep everything in check with his usual, resigned eye rolls.

But then, as your thumb hovered over the screen, your thoughts drifted back to Crowe. 

Last week, in the group chat, Crowe had mentioned something cryptic about "making big plans" for the holiday. He’d shrugged it off when Brittney pressed for details, but you couldn’t help but wonder if he had something in mind that involved the whole group. You felt the weight of his words in your mind. Would it be weird to bail on him now? 

You sighed, tucking your phone into your pocket as the bus stop loomed closer. 

"Why is it never simple with these friend groups?" you muttered under your breath.

Now, you had two conflicting decisions on your hands: find the perfect gift for Crowe, and decide whether you were spending Christmas Eve with him and his friends or tagging along with Hyugo and Sol on their sparkling adventure.

Your mind raced with the uncertainty, and the thought of making the "right" choice felt more elusive than ever.

The mall was buzzing with the kind of chaotic energy only the holiday season could bring—families weaving in and out of stores, the sound of Christmas music drifting from every corner, and glittering displays of tinsel and fairy lights winking at you from every window.

You hadn’t stepped foot in a mall in ages—mostly sticking to the convenience of online shopping and the hunts of thrift stores—but here you were, begrudgingly dragging Brittney along in your quest for the perfect gift for Crowe. 

“I still don’t get why you’re this stressed about it,” Brittney said, effortlessly balancing a caramel macchiato in one hand while gesturing with the other as she walked beside you. “It’s Jericho. He’ll probably be smiling no matter what you give him. Honestly, wrap up a rock, and he’ll love it anyway.”

You let out a long, drawn-out groan, clutching your coat tighter as you passed yet another store that screamed not Crowe enough. “That’s exactly why it’s stressful! If I give him something random, he’ll think I didn’t put any thought into it. And if it’s too thoughtful—well, you know how he gets.”

Brittney raised an eyebrow, her heels clicking against the tile floor like the beat of a very judgmental drum. “You’re overthinking it, as usual. But fine, we’ll find him something perfect.” She paused dramatically, then grinned like the cat who’d just caught the canary. “Right after we fix this.”

She motioned toward you like you were a mannequin in need of serious intervention. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked, narrowing your eyes, already dreading whatever plan she was about to hatch.

“Oh, come on,” she said, practically yanking your arm as she steered you toward a clothing store. “You cannot show up to my place tomorrow night wearing your same old flare jeans-and-sweater combo in dull colors. It’s festive! It’s Christmas! You need to bring your A-game.”

“I thought this was supposed to be a small get-together,” you protested, resisting her tug.

“It is. Small but fabulous. Which is why I, as your friend, am going to make sure you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed.” She pulled a sequined dress from a nearby rack with the kind of flourish reserved for Broadway stars. “What do we think? Too much?”

You stared at the dress in horror. It was so sparkly it could probably be seen from space. You shot her a flat look. “If I wear that, Crowe will definitely never let me live it down.”

“Fine, fine,” Brittney said, laughing and tossing the dress back on the rack with the grace of a fashionista throwing a tantrum. “But you’ve got to admit, you’d turn heads.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, though a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as she tossed another, more reasonable outfit your way.

After what felt like an eternity—and after Brittney vetoed every “boring” outfit you tried to pick—finally, you emerged from the dressing room with a pretty outfit, you both agreed with. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Brittney said, clapping her hands in approval. “Chic, confident, and just a little bit mysterious. You’re welcome.”

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, tilting your head. “I guess it’s not bad.”

“Not bad?” she repeated, feigning offense. “Please, you look amazing. Crowe is going to have his jaw on the floor.”

You shot her a look, trying to hide the heat creeping up your neck. “Why are you bringing him into this?”

Brittney smirked knowingly. “Oh, please. Like you don’t know.” 

You rolled your eyes, but her grin was infectious, and you couldn’t suppress the smallest of smiles.

After leaving the clothing store—with Brittney carrying your new outfit like it was her triumph—you wandered into a cozy little shop filled with knick-knacks and handcrafted items. It had that eclectic, artsy vibe that immediately made you think of Crowe.  

Brittney was busy examining a shelf of scented candles when she asked casually, “So, do you ever think about dating?” You froze, nearly dropping the ceramic figurine you were holding. “Excuse me? Where did that come from?”  

“I mean, it’s the holidays,” she said, shrugging as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Romance is in the air. And you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with a certain pair of guys.”  

Your stomach flipped. “Brittney...”  

“Come on,” she pressed, leaning against the shelf with a teasing grin. “It’s Jericho, isn’t it? Or wait—maybe that dude with the green streaks in his hair?” She paused, thinking, “What’s his name again…?” She asked. You rolled your eyes, “Sol.” 

“Right, the quiet one that likes to draw…” She mentioned, “So? The prince or the artist?”  

You hesitated, your mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Sol, with his warm, easy-going nature, always made you feel like you could be yourself. But Crowe... Crowe had a way of drawing you in, his sharp wit and creativity sparking something you couldn’t quite name.  

“I... I don’t know,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Brittney’s expression softened, her teasing giving way to genuine curiosity. “Hey, no pressure. I just think... whoever you pick, they’re lucky to have you.”  

As you walked through the mall, still thinking about her words, you stumbled upon something that made you stop in your tracks.  

It was a gorgeous, handcrafted music box, intricately carved with a winter scene. You’d seen it before on display, months ago, and fallen in love with it. But the price tag had always kept it just out of reach. You’d told yourself it wasn’t practical—your money had to go toward rent, groceries, and textbooks, not something so frivolous.  

Yet here it was, glimmering in the soft light as if waiting for you.  

“What’s that?” Brittney asked, peeking over your shoulder.  

You swallowed hard. “It’s... something I’ve wanted for a while. But it’s too expensive.”  

She raised an eyebrow, glancing at you, then back at the music box. “Maybe it’s time to treat yourself for once. It’s Christmas, after all.”  

You shook your head, stepping away reluctantly. “I can’t. I need to stick to my budget.”  

Brittney frowned but didn’t push. Instead, she linked her arm with yours and said, “All right, let’s go. We’ve still got to find gifts.”  

By the time you left the mall, you were exhausted but triumphant. You’d found the perfect gifts—Brittney had, of course, insisted on adding a bow to each package.  

With the gifts secured, you headed home, your thoughts kept drifting back to the music box—and to the question, you couldn’t quite answer. Crowe or Sol?  

Standing in front of your mirror, you smoothed the soft fabric of the outfit Brittney had picked out for you—a cozy yet stylish off-shoulder sweater black sweater dress paired with maroon tights, and a matching bow that sits on your nightstand.

It fit perfectly, hitting all the curves, and you had to admit, Brittney had an annoyingly good eye. When she handed you the bag earlier, she had waved away your protests with a grin.  

“Think of it as a gift,” she’d said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “I had no clue what to get you anyway, so this counts. You’re welcome.”  

You laughed at the memory as you reached for the maroon bow. It was a small, thoughtful gesture from her, but it carried more weight than she probably realized. Brittney always had a way of showing her care through actions, even if she hid it behind sarcasm.  

Your gaze shifted to your phone on the dresser, the screen still lit up with Hyugo’s text. You tapped your nails on the dresser, reading the message again and again. The idea of strolling under the glowing canopy of Christmas lights was tempting. Hyugo’s steady, dependable presence had always been a source of comfort, and Sol...  

Your chest tightened slightly at the thought of Sol. He wasn’t the loudest or the most expressive, but he had a quiet way of showing he cared. Whether it was walking on the side of the road closest to traffic or remembering your favorite snacks when you studied late, Sol went out of his way to protect you in the subtlest ways.  

But then there was Crowe.  

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, sighing softly as you adjusted the collar of your sweater dress. Crowe was the opposite of Sol in many ways—charismatic, quick-witted, and always so present. He had a way of being there when you needed him most, whether it was cracking a joke to pull you out of a bad mood or reminding you to take care of yourself when you pushed too hard. Crowe didn’t just care about you; he saw you.  

Your brush stilled in your hand as your thoughts tangled. Sol, with his quiet strength and unspoken devotion, versus Crowe, whose vibrant energy and unwavering support had become a constant in your life. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt torn like this, but tonight, with everything hanging in the air, the question loomed larger than ever.  

You placed the brush down and reached for your phone. Your thumb hovered over the screen, Hyugo’s text still unanswered.  

The truth was, both options held their kind of magic. You could picture yourself with Sol and Hyugo, laughing as Sol attempted to grab a runaway balloon from a vendor at the Christmas lights. But you could also imagine spending the night with Crowe and the rest of the group, his familiar presence anchoring you as the chaos of the party swirled around you, perhaps playing games and catching up. 

Would Crowe be disappointed if you didn’t go?  

You bit your lip, closing your eyes for a moment as you let out a long breath. There wasn’t a perfect answer, and no amount of overthinking would make the choice any easier. Finally, you set the phone down with a soft thud and looked back at your reflection.  

“Just go with your gut,” you murmured to yourself.  

As you adjusted your clothes in the minor one last time, you headed to your living room. You put on your leather boots, then grabbed your coat, and you made your way toward the door. No matter what decision you made tonight, you knew one thing for certain: the holidays weren’t about the lights, the gifts, or even the plans—they were about the people who mattered most to you.  

And whether that person was Crowe or Sol... maybe the night would help you figure that out.  

If you picked Crowe!

You stood in front of your front door, staring at your phone screen as your thumb hovered over the keyboard. Hyugo’s invitation sat open on your messaging app, the words staring back at you like a challenge.  

Spending Christmas Eve with him and Sol sounded wonderful. The idea of walking under glowing lights, sharing laughter and stories, and basking in the quiet warmth of their presence was so tempting. You could already picture Sol’s quiet, steady energy and Hyugo’s easygoing humor, balancing each other out like always.  

But then there was Brittney’s party. She had been planning it for weeks, texting in all caps about the details and how “NO ONE was allowed to skip out unless they wanted to face my WRATH.” And Crowe… well, Crowe had been unusually involved in the group chat about the exchange. You could sense his subtle excitement, even though he’d never admit it outright.  

Your heartfelt caught between two equally important choices. One evening with Hyugo and Sol would mean stepping away from the rest of your friends, missing out on the little traditions that had brought you all closer. And yet, declining Hyugo’s invitation felt like a lost chance to make a special memory with him and Sol.  

Biting your lip, you finally typed out a reply, your fingers moving hesitantly:  

— You: I’d love to, but my friends already planned something. Maybe next time?  

You stared at the message for another moment before pressing send, a pang of guilt twisting in your chest.  

It wasn’t long before your phone buzzed with Hyugo’s response:  

— Hyugo: Got it. Have fun!  

You smiled softly at the screen, some of the tension in your chest easing. Hyugo was always so understanding—steady and reliable, no matter the situation. But before you could set your phone down, it buzzed again.  

The name flashing on the screen made your stomach flip.  

Sol.  

You hesitated for a beat before answering. “Hey,” you said, keeping your tone light despite the sudden tightness in your throat.  

“Hey,” he replied, his voice calm but noticeably quieter than usual. “I just wanted to check... So, you’re not coming tonight?”  

Your chest tightened further at the faint thread of disappointment in his tone. “I’m really sorry, Sol,” you said, sighing softly. “I already have plans with others friends. I don’t want to bail on them.”  

There was a pause, long enough for your heart to sink. When Sol spoke again, his words were careful, and understanding, but there was no hiding the sadness that laced his tone. “It’s okay. I get it. Maybe we can hang out another time.”  

The lump in your throat grew heavier. “We definitely will,” you promised quickly, wishing you could say something to lighten the weight you could feel in his words.  

In the background, you heard Hyugo’s voice. “Is that them? Gimme the phone.”  

There was a rustling sound before Hyugo’s familiar warmth came through the line. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he said with an easy chuckle. “We’ll survive without you. But next time, no excuses, okay?”  

The lightheartedness in his tone made your shoulders relax slightly. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, relieved by his usual charm. “Thanks, Hyugo. Have fun tonight, okay?”  

“You too!” he teased before adding, “And try not to let your friends drag you into too much chaos. See you soon.”  

The line clicked, leaving you standing in the quiet entryway of your apartment. You lowered the phone slowly, staring at it for a moment longer as an ache settled in your chest. Sol’s voice lingered in your mind, soft and careful, and you couldn’t help but wish things could have been different.  

But tonight, you reminded yourself, was about being with the others, about keeping the traditions you’d built with them alive. With a deep breath, you slipped your phone into your pocket and grabbed your coat, stepping into the night air with a mixture of anticipation and bittersweet longing swirling in your heart.  

The evening of the party arrived, and as you approached Brittney’s house, the warmth and energy of the gathering spilled out onto the deck porch. Golden light glowed from the windows, the cheerful hum of music and laughter drifting into the chilly December air. You paused for a moment at the door, pulling your coat tighter around yourself as you gathered your thoughts.  

With a steadying breath, you knocked. A moment later, the door swung open, and there was Brittney, her face lighting up with her signature, effervescent grin.  

“Finally! I thought you’d never get here,” she said, already reaching to help you with your coat.  

“Sorry, I was—”  

“Fashionably late,” she interrupted, her eyes scanning your outfit. A satisfied hum escaped her lips as she appraised you. “Now this is what I’m talking about. You’re stunning.”  

You laughed softly, slipping out of your coat to reveal the gorgeous outfit Brittney had insisted on picking for you—a soft black off the shoulder dressed, paired with maroon tights with an matching bow that made you feel both elegant and confident. She handed you a pair of house shoes, the ones you knew she kept around for occasions like this.  

“I feel like I’m overdressed,” you said lightly, but Brittney shook her head, waving a dismissive hand.  

“Overdressed? Please. It’s Christmas. You’re perfect.”  

Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut through the cheerful din behind her.  

“Hey, you made it.”  

Your gaze shifted, and there stood Crowe. For a moment, you simply stared, taking him in. He wore an azure button-up shirt, paired with a black vest that complemented his rich brown skin, the deep hue drawing out the warm tones of his deep blue eyes. A sapphire brooch glinted at the center of a meticulously tied black bow around his collar, and his long hair was pulled into a low ponytail, tied back with a matching azure ribbon.  

In his hands, he held a small bouquet of blue irises.  

Your breath caught, and as he stepped closer, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his outfit . “Wow,” you murmured. “You look... princely.”  

Crowe raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk faltering as a flicker of warmth crossed his expression. “And you look...” He paused, his gaze lingering on you before softening. “Really beautiful.”  

“Only tonight?” you teased, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head.  

His eyes widened, and he stumbled over his words, flustered in a way you didn’t see often. “No, I mean—you look beautiful every day, but tonight you just—” He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck as a sheepish laugh escaped him.  

You both burst into laughter, the tension easing in an instant. Brittney rolled her eyes dramatically, patting Crowe’s shoulder as she passed. “Well, my work here is done,” she said, her tone dripping with mock exasperation. “Don’t mess this up, princeling.”  

As Brittney disappeared back to the living room, leaving you and Crowe in the hallway. He turned his attention back to you, holding out the bouquet. “These are for you,” he said simply.  

You took the flowers carefully, the soft petals brushing your fingertips. Your eyes widened slightly as you studied the blooms. “Blue irises,” you said, your voice thoughtful. “They’re beautiful.”  

He tilted his head, his smirk returning. “I thought you’d like them. They’re supposed to mean hope and trust—or something like that.”  

“And wisdom,” you added, looking up at him with a smile. “The iris has been associated with wisdom and truth because of the Greek goddess Iris, who was a messenger for Zeus and Hera. And nobility, too—it’s been connected to royalty throughout history.”  

Crowe’s brow lifted, clearly impressed. “Well, aren’t you just a walking encyclopedia?”  

You grinned. “Maybe. But you picked well. Thank you.”  

The warmth in his gaze deepened, and for a moment, it felt like the noise of the party faded away.  

“You’re welcome,” he said softly.  

Soon the room was buzzing with anticipation as the gift exchange began. Brittney, playing hostess to perfection, had everyone seated in a loose circle, with the mountain of brightly wrapped presents taking center stage. You were perched on the edge of a couch, trying to calm the slight flutter in your chest as the turn order worked its way closer to Crowe.  

When his name was finally called, he shot to his feet with his usual flair, bowing dramatically as the room cheered. “Thank you, thank you,” he said, waving his hand like a performer accepting applause. “But this isn’t about me—it’s about you all witnessing the unveiling of my superior gift-giving skills.”  

Brittney rolled her eyes. “Just get on with it, princeling.”  

Crowe smirked at her before his gaze flicked to you. A mischievous glint lit his deep blue eyes as he strode toward you, a carefully curated basket in his hands. He stopped in front of you, his grin softening into something a little more sincere.  

“This one’s for you,” he said, holding the basket out with a slight flourish.  

You blinked, surprised as you took the basket from him. “For me?”  

He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “Well, yeah. You’re hard to shop for, so don’t judge me too harshly, okay?”  

You set the basket on your lap and began pulling back the tissue paper, and your eyes widened as you took in the contents. Inside were all your favorite things—snacks you couldn’t resist, small trinkets in your favorite color, and even a notebook that perfectly matched your aesthetic.  

“Crowe...” you murmured, already feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. But as you moved the tissue paper aside further, your gaze landed on something at the center that made your breath hitch—a beautifully crafted music box.  

“You...” You looked up at him, your voice barely above a whisper.  

Crowe shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck in a rare display of nervousness. “I wasn’t sure what to get you,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re always saying you have everything you need, and every time I offer to get you something, you turn me down like I’m trying to buy your soul or something.”  

A ripple of laughter spread through the room, and you couldn’t help but smile. “So, I figured I’d just... cover all my bases. You know, a little bit of everything. And, uh... I remembered how much you like little tunes and stuff, so...” He motioned awkwardly to the music box, looking anywhere but directly at you.  

Your chest tightened as a wave of emotion swept over you. The thoughtfulness behind the gift—the way he’d paid attention to all the little details about you—left you speechless. Without thinking, you stood up, leaned toward him, and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.  

“Thank you, Crowe,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.  

For a moment, Crowe froze, his eyes wide as the room erupted into a chorus of whistles and teasing laughter. His hand flew to his cheek, and the tips of his ears turned a faint shade of red.  

“Well, well, well,” Brittney said loudly, holding up her phone and snapping a picture. “Looks like Crowe’s the real winner tonight.”  

Crowe groaned, glaring playfully at her. “Don’t you have a party to host or something?”  

Brittney smirked. “This is hosting. Carry on, lovebirds.”  

The teasing didn’t stop there. Someone shouted, “How about a speech, Crowe?!” and someone else chimed in with, “Yeah, tell us how it feels to win Christmas!”  

Crowe sighed dramatically, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed how much he appreciated the attention. “It feels like... a conspiracy,” he quipped, shooting you a quick, fond glance.  

As the laughter died down and the gift exchange continued, you found yourself clutching the basket tightly. You caught Crowe looking at you a few times, and each time, he offered a soft, almost shy smile.  

As the night wore on, the room buzzed with laughter and excitement. You sat quietly, watching the group banter back and forth, their camaraderie filling the space with a warmth that rivaled the glow of the twinkling fairy lights strung across the walls. Brittney flitted from group to group, her laughter ringing out as she teased someone about their gift-wrapping skills. Crowe’s voice cut through the chatter every so often, his witty remarks earning groans and snickers alike.  

You smiled at their antics, but the warmth in your chest was tinged with a bittersweet ache. The ease with which they all interacted—the history they shared—sometimes made you feel like an outsider, no matter how much they cared for you. You still felt new. You blinked quickly, willing away the sting in your eyes, but the knot in your throat tightened, looking down at your hands.

A quiet voice broke through your thoughts.  

“Hey.”  

You looked up to find Crowe standing beside you, his brow furrowed, concern softening his usually playful expression. He crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his hand brushing lightly against your arm.  

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low so only you could hear.  

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile as you wiped at your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, though your voice wavered. “I just need some fresh air.”  

He didn’t ask any more questions. Instead, he held out a hand, helping you up. “Come on,” he said softly, guiding you toward the door.  

Outside, the crisp night air greeted you, sharp and refreshing against your skin. The muffled sounds of music and laughter from inside felt distant now, replaced by the soft rustling of trees and the faint twinkle of stars overhead.  

You leaned against the railing of the porch, closing your eyes for a moment as you took a deep breath. When you opened them again, Crowe was watching you, his expression unreadable.  

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. Crowe noticed immediately, his brow knitting in concern. Without hesitation, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue handkerchief.  

He stepped closer, his movements gentle as he raised the handkerchief to your cheek, wiping the tear away. His touch was warm and deliberate, his fingertips barely grazing your skin.  

The tenderness of the gesture caught you off guard, and when he realized how close he was, his hand faltered. “Sorry, I—”  

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as a small, shaky breath escaped you. “Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.  

His hand lingered for a moment longer before he pulled back, his lips curving into a small, lopsided smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly.  

The two of you stood there in comfortable silence for a while, the cool night air brushing against your faces. Eventually, Crowe leaned against the railing beside you, his arm brushing yours as he tilted his head back to look at the sky.  

“Do you know much about constellations?” he asked, his tone lighter now.  

You glanced at him, grateful for the change in mood. “A little. Why?”  

He pointed upward, his hand tracing the shape of a cluster of stars. “That one right there—that’s Cassiopeia. The queen who bragged about how beautiful she was and got herself in trouble with the gods.”  

You laughed softly. “Sounds like someone I know.”  

Crowe gasped in mock offense, pressing a hand to his chest. “I’ll have you know, I am humble to a fault.”  

“Sure, princeling,” you teased, nudging him gently with your shoulder.  

He grinned, his gaze drifting back to the stars. “Anyway, you’re more like Andromeda. You know, the princess who was chained to a rock but ended up becoming a constellation. Quiet strength, endless beauty... and the kind of person you can’t help but notice.”  

Your breath hitched slightly at his words, and when you turned to look at him, his eyes were already on you, warm and sincere.  

“I...” You hesitated, your emotions threatening to spill over again. But instead of speaking, you reached into your pocket and pulled out a small box.  

“I almost forgot,” you said, your voice steadying. “This is for you.”  

Crowe blinked, surprised, as he took the box from your hands. When he opened it, his expression softened even further. Inside were two matching necklaces, one in gold and one in silver, with interlocking stars at the center.  

“They fit together,” you explained, taking the gold one and clipping it around his neck. “Yours is gold and mine’s silver. I thought...” You hesitated again, suddenly shy. “I thought it’d be a nice reminder.”  

Crowe’s fingers brushed the charm, his gaze flicking between the necklace and you. “It’s perfect,” he said, his voice low. “Thank you.”  

The two of you stood close, the distance between you barely enough to breathe, yet it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. Your hands brushed as you admired the matching necklaces, an unspoken connection flickering between the two of you. Crowe’s lips parted, as if he was about to say something, but then he suddenly laughed, his eyes catching something in the distance.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, your head tilting curiously, the soft flicker of the holiday lights casting a warm glow on your face.

He pointed upward, his eyes mischievous. “You didn’t notice?”

Following his gaze, your eyes landed on a sprig of mistletoe hanging directly above you, its green leaves almost glowing under the lights. The realization hit you, and heat surged to your cheeks, a soft flush spreading across your skin. You looked back at him, your heart suddenly racing, and found him raising his hands in mock surrender, his lips curling into that knowing smile of his.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his tone playful but edged with something deeper, like he was daring you to take the plunge. “It’s just a belief, you know—.”

But you didn’t let him finish. Without a second thought, you stepped closer, closing the gap between you until you were mere inches apart. Your fingers gently cupped his cheek, and as his breath hitched, you pressed your lips to his.

The kiss was electric. Crowe froze for the briefest of seconds, as if surprised by your sudden boldness, but then he melted into it, his hands settling onto your waist, his touch firm yet careful. The world around you seemed to vanish, the only thing that existed was the sensation of his lips against yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. It was soft, tender, but there was an intensity to it—like a fire that had been smoldering, just waiting for the right moment to ignite.

His lips moved against yours, slow at first, savoring the closeness. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through the way his chest pressed gently against yours. You pulled him in closer, your hands tangling in the fabric of his jacket, as though afraid that if you let go, the moment would slip away. His body was pressed against yours now, his chest flush against yours, his strong arms securing you in place, as if to make sure you didn’t fall.

When you finally pulled back, the air between you seemed charged, crackling with unspoken words. His eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them, deeply in love and warm with something that made your heart race. He smiled, a slow, genuine curve of his lips, his voice low and tender when he finally spoke.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” he whispered, his words almost lost in the space between your lips. His hand remained at the small of your back, holding you close, his fingers warm against your skin.

Before you could even process the weight of his words, a loud voice broke through the fragile moment.

“Got it!” Brittney crowed from the window, waving her phone triumphantly as if she had just captured a moment of great importance.

You groaned, your face immediately hiding in your hands, embarrassed, but Crowe just laughed, the sound warm and carefree, his arm effortlessly wrapping around your shoulders.

“Let them watch,” he said with a grin, pulling you closer, his breath tickling your ear. “I don’t care.”

And for the first time that night, as his arm pulled you tighter against him, you didn’t care either.

If you picked Sol!

You stood motionless, phone resting in your hand, as you stared at the glowing screen.  

— You: I’d love to come. When should I meet you?  

Hyugo’s response came almost immediately.  

— Hyugo: 6:30 at the park entrance. Can’t wait!  

A small smile tugged at your lips, the kind that didn’t quite reach your eyes. You knew tonight would be special; Hyugo and Sol had a way of making even the simplest outings unforgettable. But as your gaze drifted to Crowe’s name in your contacts, the smile faded.  

Crowe.

He deserved to know you wouldn’t be there. You owed him that much.  

Your thumb hovered over the call button, hesitating as a pang of guilt settled in your chest. This wasn’t an easy decision, but you couldn’t be everywhere at once. Taking a steadying breath, you pressed the button and lifted the phone to your ear.  

The line rang twice before Crowe answered, his familiar voice as warm and teasing as ever. “Hey, what’s up? Please don’t tell me you’re chickening out on me for tonight.”  

A soft laugh escaped you, but the guilt in your tone was unmistakable. “Not exactly chickening out, but... I can’t make it. I have other plans.”  

The silence that followed stretched long enough to make your chest tighten. You checked the screen to make sure the call hadn’t dropped, but then Crowe’s voice returned, quieter now.  

“Oh. I see. Well, that’s okay. I mean, we’ll miss you, but it’s not Christmas without options, right?”  

His attempt at lightness only deepened the ache in your heart. You could hear the subtle disappointment beneath his words, even if he was trying to hide it.  

“I’m sorry, Crowe,” you said softly. “I really hope you have a great time. Merry Christmas.”  

He chuckled lightly, though the usual energy in his laugh wasn’t there. “Yeah, you too. Take care, okay?”  

When the call ended, you stared at the blank screen for a moment, the weight of your choice pressing on you. Crowe’s voice lingered in your mind, and for a fleeting second, you almost reconsidered. But tonight was about something different—something you couldn’t quite name yet.  

Later that evening, you arrived at the park entrance, the crisp night air nipping at your cheeks as the scent of pine and roasted chestnuts filled the air. Strings of twinkling lights turned the trees into glowing sculptures, and the cheerful hum of holiday music mingled with the sound of children laughing and families chatting.  

Your breath puffed in the cold air as you scanned the crowd. It didn’t take long to spot Hyugo leaning against a lamppost, his tall frame relaxed and his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets. He gave you a small wave, but it wasn’t Hyugo who drew your attention.  

A few steps away stood Sol.  

He was dressed impeccably, his white button-up shirt and green suit jacket tailored perfectly to his lean frame. The deep green of the jacket brought out the striking shade of his eyes, and his neatly styled ponytail only emphasized the sharp lines of his face. His bangs framed his expression, highlighting the glint of the piercings lining his ears.  

But it was the bouquet in his hands that truly caught your attention. A cluster of green roses, delicate and vibrant against the cold winter backdrop.  

Your heart skipped a beat as you walked toward him, your eyes widening. “Green roses,” you said softly, taking the bouquet from his hands with care. “They’re about life and growth. Hope, too.”  

Sol blinked, his lips parting slightly in surprise before his expression softened. A faint blush crept up his neck as he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah... I thought you’d like them.”  

You couldn’t help yourself. Without thinking, you leaned forward and hugged him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.  

Sol froze, his body going stiff as his blush deepened to an almost crimson hue. He stammered incoherently for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck as if to ground himself.  

“Well, this is already adorable,” Hyugo said, his calm voice laced with amusement as he walked up. “Thanks for officially making me the third wheel tonight.”  

You laughed, clutching the roses to your chest as you turned to Hyugo. “Don’t be so dramatic. Here, I have something for you.”  

Reaching into the small gift bag in your hand, you pulled out a silver katana necklace. Hyugo’s brows lifted as he took it, his fingers brushing the delicate chain.  

“Wow,” he said, holding it up to catch the light. “This is... really nice. Thanks!”  

“Only the best for you,” you teased, grinning as he slipped it on. The chain glinted under the lights, and he adjusted it with a satisfied nod.  

“Looks good on me, doesn’t it?” he said, striking a mock-serious pose.  

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “It does. But let’s not let it go to your head, okay?”  

As the three of you began walking into the park, the weight of the earlier phone call began to ease. The twinkling lights, the crisp air, and the warmth of your friends’ presence all blended into a moment you wouldn’t forget.  

The world around you transformed into a glowing wonderland of twinkling lights. Strings of bulbs wound through the trees like cascading stars, and lanterns in festive shapes lined the paths. The air was filled with the sounds of cheerful laughter, holiday music, and the occasional jingling bell from a passing sleigh ride.  

Hyugo walked ahead, his easy stride and relaxed demeanor making him seem like he belonged in this magical setting. Occasionally, he pointed out displays, his commentary a mix of genuine appreciation and sarcastic humor.  

“See that?” he said, gesturing to a particularly gaudy reindeer display. “That’s exactly what my family’s yard looks like. Overachieving neighbors are a real thing.”  

You laughed, falling into step with Sol, who had remained quieter than usual. He walked beside you, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets now that the bouquet was safely cradled in your arms. His reddish-orange eyes flitted between the lights and you, his expression thoughtful.  

“You okay back there, Sol?” Hyugo called over his shoulder, smirking. “You’re way too quiet. I’m starting to think the roses did all the talking for you.”  

Sol’s cheeks flushed again, but he managed a small smile. “I’m fine. Just... enjoying the view.” Hyugo snorted. “Yeah, sure you are.”  

You glanced up at Sol, catching the way his gaze lingered on you before darting away. Your heart skipped slightly, and you decided to give him a reprieve from Hyugo’s teasing. “The lights are beautiful,” you said softly, gesturing toward the canopy of stars above the path.  

Sol nodded, his voice equally quiet. “Yeah, they are.”  

The three of you continued along the winding path, pausing occasionally to take in the more elaborate displays—a massive tree covered in golden lights, an archway adorned with glittering ornaments, and a whimsical snowman family that had children running circles around it.  

Hyugo excused himself after spotting a nearby food stall. “I’m getting hot cocoa. Anyone want some?”  

You shook your head, and Sol muttered a soft, “No, thanks.”  

“Suit yourselves. I’ll be back in a bit,” Hyugo said with a casual wave, leaving you and Sol alone under the shimmering lights.  

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was charged with something unspoken. Sol glanced at you, his hands fidgeting slightly in his pockets.  

“You look really nice tonight,” he said suddenly, his voice shy but earnest.  

You turned to him, surprised. “Thank you. You do, too.”  

He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he wasn’t sure how far to let it go. “I mean it,” he added, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again. “You always look nice, but tonight... I don’t know. You’re so pretty.”  

Your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice softer this time.  

The lights overhead cast a soft glow on both of you, the world feeling smaller and quieter. Your thoughts began to wander, and a faint ache tugged at your chest.  

You’d spent so many Christmases surrounded by family, their familiar warmth and chaos filling every corner of your childhood home. This year was different. You’d made a life for yourself in the city and built relationships and traditions with your friends, but the distance from your family suddenly felt heavier than ever.  

Sol noticed the shift in your expression immediately. His brows furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, stepping closer. “Hey,” he said gently. “You okay?”  

You blinked quickly, realizing tears had started to well in your eyes. “Yeah,” you said, wiping at them with a quick smile. “I’m fine. Just... thinking about home.”  

His concern deepened, and for a moment, he hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Finally, he reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay to miss them,” he said softly. “You don’t have to hide it.”  

The warmth in his voice unraveled something inside you, and you nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you, Sol,” you murmured.  

A small smile returned to his face, and he pulled his hand back, letting the moment settle. After a few moments, you reached into your bag, a spark of excitement cutting through the heaviness in your chest. “Actually, I have something for you,” you said, pulling out a small box.  

Sol blinked in surprise, watching as you handed it to him. “What’s this?”  

“Open it,” you said with a grin.  

He carefully lifted the lid to reveal a miniature horse keychain, painted green and black to match his colors. Sol’s eyes widened, and a small, genuine smile spread across his face.  

“For me?” he asked, his voice almost disbelieving.  

You nodded. “And this one’s for me,” you added, pulling out a matching keychain—a small cat painted in your favorite colors. “Now we’ve got matching keychains. To think of each other, you know.”  

Sol stared at the tiny horse in his hands, his fingers brushing the smooth surface. “I love it,” he said finally, his voice quiet but full of emotion. “Thank you.”  

Before you could respond, Sol reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a neatly wrapped box. “I, uh... have something for you too,” he said, handing it over.  

You unwrapped it carefully, and your breath caught as the lid lifted to reveal the music box you’d been dreaming about for months.  

Tears sprang to your eyes again, but this time they were filled with pure joy. You couldn’t quite believe what you were seeing. “Sol… how did you…?”

He stood there, his hands twitching nervously at his sides, the usual confidence he carried nowhere to be found. He took a tentative step closer, and the vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. “I remembered you talking about it once,” he said, his voice faltering, tinged with uncertainty. “I just thought you should have it.”

His words, the meaning behind them, hit you all at once. He was so thoughtful, so careful. But it was his panicked expression that really caught you off guard. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air, unsure whether to comfort you or retreat, his reddish orange eyes wide with worry, silently questioning if he had done too much. “I—was this too much? I just thought you’d—”

You couldn’t bear to see him like that, unsure and vulnerable, so you stepped forward, closing the distance between you. Slowly, you rose up onto your toes, your hands wrapping around his broad shoulders, grounding yourself in his presence.

Before he could finish his thought, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, letting your emotions guide you. His breath hitched, and for a long moment, everything seemed to pause. The twinkling lights that decorated the trees, the distant laughter of other parkgoers, even the crisp winter air—all of it faded away, leaving only the heat of his skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that somehow synced with yours.

Sol froze at first, his lips still under yours, as if his mind hadn’t caught up with what was happening. But slowly, you felt him relax into the kiss. His hands, unsure at first, settled lightly on your arms, and then, as if he was grounding himself in the moment, they tightened just slightly, pulling you in closer.

His touch was little rough, but you could feel the depth of his feelings in the way his fingers brushed against your skin—like he was afraid to let go, as if the moment might slip away if he did.

When you finally pulled back, the air around you felt charged, alive with the emotion you both had been holding back. Sol stood there, his wide eyes locked on you, his cheeks flushed so deeply that even the tips of his ears had turned a deep shade of red. His chest rose and fell quickly, like he couldn’t quite process what had just happened.

“I… uh…” he stammered, his voice barely a whisper, as if words had momentarily escaped him.

A soft laugh escaped you, breaking the intensity of the moment. You wiped away the lingering tears from your cheeks, trying to steady yourself. “Thank you, Sol,” you said, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling in your chest. “For everything. For the music box, for being here… for being you.”

Sol’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to respond, but instead, all he managed was a shy, lopsided smile. The kind that made your heart flutter, as if his very soul was laid bare in that simple gesture.

You smiled back, your cheeks still flushed with warmth despite the winter chill, and there was something about the way his gaze lingered on you that made everything feel right, in a way you never expected.

“And for the record,” you added softly, your tone more serious now, “I care about you. So much.”

Sol’s smile deepened, and his eyes seemed to glow with a mixture of disbelief and quiet happiness. His voice, when it came, was so soft, so full of emotion, it felt like a secret meant just for you. “I’m just glad you’re here,” he murmured, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch warm and tender. “You’re the best muse I’ll ever have.”

His words hung in the air between you, and it felt like time itself had slowed down, each second stretching into eternity as you stood there, lost in the quiet connection you shared. The world, the winter, the chaos of everything else—it all melted away in that one moment, leaving only the feeling of his hands, his heart, and the soft glow of your shared affection.

Before either of you could say more, Hyugo’s suddenly voice cut through the tender moment, laced with amusement.  

“Well, I feel like I should leave you two lovebirds alone, but... I also don’t want to walk home alone, so…”  

The interruption made you laugh, the sound light and genuine as the heaviness in your chest fully lifted. Sol’s blush only deepened, and he looked down, scratching the back of his neck in his usual awkward fashion.  

Your hand found his instinctively, your fingers lacing together as you turned to face Hyugo. “You’re hopeless,” you called teasingly.  

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyugo said with a mock sigh. “Glad you’ve finally figured that out.”  

As the three of you continued along the path, Sol’s grip on your hand remained firm, his thumb brushing lightly against yours as though to reassure himself this wasn’t a dream. The lights above reflected in his eyes, making them shine like rubies against the backdrop of the winter evening.  

After a few moments of quiet, Sol glanced at you, his gaze steady but laced with a familiar shyness. “Thanks for being here,” he said, his voice low but full of meaning.  

You looked up at him, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course. Where else would I be?”  

He hesitated for just a second, and then, with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, he added, “…And I’m glad I didn’t have to shed any blood to win you over.”  

You stopped in your tracks, staring at him in mock disbelief before bursting into laughter. “What a charmer,” you said, shaking your head.  

Sol chuckled softly, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “What can I say? …I aim to impress you alone.”  

The teasing gave way to a comfortable silence as the two of you continued walking, your hands still intertwined. The world around you felt warmer, and brighter, like the holiday lights above had found a way to settle into your chest and glow from the inside out.  

For the first time that night, you felt completely at peace, the bittersweet ache of the season replaced by something sweeter: the quiet, steadfast warmth of someone who cared for you deeply.  

You two reached Hyugo, who was waiting by another set of light displays, waving his hand over to call you and Sol to have a closer look.

You couldn’t help but think that this chilly winter night had turned into something magical.  

The soft hum of your phone was the only sound in the stillness of your room, the faint light casting long shadows across the walls as you lay there, scrolling through the pictures from the night of Christmas Eve. Each image flickered before your eyes like a fragment of time—memories that felt both distant and vivid, frozen in the glow of your screen.

The liveliness of Crowe and his friends, the way their energy seemed to fill the room and make the night brighter. Or the warmth of the park, the laughter of Hyugo and Sol, their voices mingling with the cold December air. 

You felt an unexpected peace settle deep in your chest, a quiet kind of comfort.

College may have been over, for now, but something else had started to take root—connections that would stretch far beyond the walls of classrooms and lectures. Friendships that felt solid, steady, like something that might stand the test of time.

Just as you set the phone aside, your eyes began to flutter shut, your body sinking into the softness of the bed, drifting completely off to sleep.

Afterward, the soft sound at the window—a quiet rustle of fabric, the faintest click of the latch being undone. Then, a shadow moved across the room, sleek and fluid, dressed entirely in black. The figure moved with practiced ease, slipping silently through your window as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Sol.

His silhouette was barely visible against the darkness, but you could feel the presence of his mischievous grin even before he stepped into the soft pool of light in your room. He was quick, and efficient as if he had done this a hundred times before, and yet there was something undeniably thoughtful in the way he moved—careful not to disturb anything, as if he didn’t want to interrupt the calm of the night.

He stood there for a moment, just watching your sleeping figure, his eyes heart-shaped, glinting with quiet amusement. You could feel something warm in his gaze. Then, he crossed the room, slow enough not to startle you, and crouched down at the edge of your bed. His black clothing blended into the shadows, the outline of his lean figure and the small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You were deep in sleep, the world around you a blur of comforting darkness. And yet, in that dreamlike space, you could feel his presence, like a whisper threading through the silence. 

"You made it through the year," his voice murmured, a soft, velvety tone that carried a weight of something unspoken—something meaningful. His words were like a gentle caress, and though you could barely register them in your dream state, they stirred something inside you, something warm, something that made you feel understood. 

A movement—delicate, almost reverent—pulled you from the haze of sleep. His hand, steady and sure, reached out to you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. His touch was feather-light, as though he was afraid to disturb the fragile peace of the moment. You could feel the warmth of his fingertips lingering on your skin, a soft, lingering touch that made you feel protected, and cared for, even in your slumber.

"Wishing you the best in the new year," he whispered, his voice barely audible but thick with intent. 

You didn’t stir, caught in the embrace of sleep, but somehow, his words echoed through your mind like a distant lullaby. His hand dropped, and then there was a shift, the movement of him leaning forward, his presence closer now, filling the space between you. 

His lips brushed against your lip, the kiss so gentle it felt like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings. It was brief, fleeting, but tender—an unspoken promise, woven into the light touch, something that lingered on your skin even after he pulled away. His warmth stayed with you for a heartbeat, then another, the feeling of him still hanging in the air like a quiet echo.

For a moment, everything was still. His expression remained unreadable, as it often did, but there was something else there—something deeper, more sincere than you were used to seeing. He didn’t need to say more; his presence was enough. 

"Happy New Year~” he said, his voice soft but carrying a quiet smile, one that tugged at the corners of his lips as though he knew something you didn’t. And then, as swiftly as he had come, he was gone—leaving behind only the lingering warmth of his touch and the faintest trace of his words, woven into the fabric of your dreams. Still, a smile tugged at your lips as you thought about the promise of the new year—of fresh starts and endless possibilities.

Whatever moments the future held, you knew they'd be all the more meaningful depending on who you chose to share them with.

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[musings-of-a-rose]

My First, My Last, My Always - a PedroStories Secret Santa Exchange Event

Pairing: Francisco “Frankie” Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 2751

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: @prolix-yuy My beloved LJ - when I got your name, I literally squeed! And then felt an immediate sense of “omg will I be able to write something worthy of her?” I thought and thought about what to write for you and then I had it. I have had this idea for a Frankie fic since I started posting back in late 2021, but I’d never written it. I even had a name for it and a plot line! Now I know it’s because I was saving it for you. Have a very happy whatever you celebrate and know that not only are you extremely talented, you are one of the nicest people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.

**This is for the @pedrostories Secret Santa exchange event!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Frankie Morales Masterlist

I met Frankie when we were 5. I had just moved to the neighborhood, in the middle of summer. Which meant no school, so no way to make friends. A few days later, as my parents were unpacking, I sat on the couch, leaning on the back of it to stare out the front window. To my surprise, on the front porch of the house across the street from me sat a boy. He had his head in his hands and looked a little sad and lonely, his brown hair and loose curls sticking at odd angles, like he had woken up and come outside. 

“Mom, can I go say hi to the boy across the street?” I ask, already getting off the couch. 

My dad glances through the front window, seeing the boy on the steps. “Sure. See if he wants to play soccer.” He tosses me a soccer ball that he had just unpacked, which I miss. 

I grab it and head outside, walking straight towards the boy. He doesn’t seem to pay me any mind until I’m on his lawn. He looks up at me, furiously wiping at his eyes. 

“Hi!” I say, smiling at him. 

“H-hi,” he replies, his eyebrows furrowing together.

We sat there in silence for a few moments. “Do you want to play soccer?”

He sniffs. “Yeah, sure.” He stands, coming to meet me in his yard. We end up just kicking the ball back and forth for a minute. His shoulders are still slumped, like he’s carrying something heavy. I stop the ball with my foot, taking a step closer to him.

“Are you ok?” I ask, my face full of concern.

“ ‘m fine,” he mumbles. 

“It’s ok if you’re sad. I am too,” I confess. He looks at me, cocking his head.

“You’re sad?”

I nod. “Yeah. We just moved here. My dad got a new job. I had to leave my friends.”

He nods. “Sorry about your friends.”

I shrug. “Thanks. So are you ok?”

He looks at his house and then back at me, coming closer. “I don’t even know you.”

I tell him my name. “But call me Rea.”

“Frankie….my parents fight a lot. Sometimes it’s too loud. I come out here to get some quiet.”

“Oh. Well, if you want, you can come over to my house whenever you need to get away.”

His eyes widen, filling with a light I hadn’t seen yet. “I can? You mean it?”

I nod, a smile forming on my face. “Yeah! We can play games, my mom makes great snacks, and my dad is building me a treehouse soon!”

From that day on, Frankie and I were inseparable. We lucked out in being placed in the same classroom that fall, Frankie taking me on a tour of the school. He told me what bathrooms were stinky and what kids were mean. He came over pretty much every day, my parents taking an immediate liking to him when I came back home with him. I did overhear them saying something about that poor boy, but they never complained. Frankie was there for family game night, pizza night, and movie nights. My parents took him to the county fair with us, the zoo, and our weekly trips to the library, where I would get every book they had on drawing and Frankie would pick out books on flying. He once told me he wanted to be a pilot. 

Middle school is pretty much the first time we spent away from each other, since some of our classes were different. He took shop and I took art, trying to hone my skills as an artist as it brought me so much joy. I don’t know how I would’ve survived middle school without his presence, his strength to help me through a really rough transition time. He would claim it was all me supporting him, but I think we just work well together.

In 8th grade, Frankie came over for pizza night as usual, us heading out into our treehouse after to hangout and watch a movie on a tv I had carted up there with a long extension cord. It had a vhs player in it and so we would watch whatever we could rent. We settled down and got comfortable, a bowl of popcorn between us. 

“Hey, Rea?” Frankie looks nervous, not quite looking at me. 

“Yeah?” My words are garbled because of the popcorn in my mouth.

He clears his throat, still not looking at me. “Have you kissed anyone yet?”

I stop chewing. I had wondered if the boys talked like the girls, as that’s all they could talk about. Kissing boys. I hadn’t thought about it at all, until it felt like I was the only girl who hadn’t kissed anyone yet.

“Uh…no. You?” My stomach fluttered like it had butterflies in it and I didn’t know why. 

“N-no.” We sat there for a moment, the movie continuing on in the background. “Maybe we could kiss each other? So we could say we did it?”

My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. I hadn’t felt like this before, other than the time Frankie took my hand at the fair and guided me through the haunted mansion that we’d been through a dozen times a few weeks back. 

“Oh. Uh, y-yeah.” 

Frankie sits up, finally looking at me. “You sure? I just thought since we knew each other it wouldn’t be weird.”

I sit up too. “Yeah. Makes sense.” 

After a few awkward body shifts, he pressed his lips to mine and the butterflies in my stomach went wild. And when he broke the kiss I’ll admit, I was more than a little sad. His face still close to mine, he gave me a small smile, those dimples on display.

“There. Now we’ve each kissed someone.”

I didn’t realize it at the time, but that first kiss was when things changed, I think. We started high school that next year, our schedules separating us further. Frankie joined ROTC (Reserve Officer’s Training Corps) and I joined the art club, my parents surprising me with private instruction from a local artist that I admired. We still saw each other at lunch, and he was still over at our house more often than not, these days more because of whomever his mom was currently dating. But everything felt…different. I brushed it off, not knowing how to put it into words.

Then, our senior year, Frankie came to me with another proposition. Neither of us had been intimate with someone else, and who better than someone we know and trust? The boys had been talking about it and the girls had definitely been talking about it. I wasn’t against the idea of sex. I just never got around to it. So when Frankie proposed the idea at our weekly movie after pizza night, I agreed, that familiar butterflies in my stomach feeling coming flooding back. 

In true Frankie fashion, he came prepared and had studied. He set up the treehouse with extra cushions and candles, putting flowers everywhere, with some music in the background. He already knew about protection and knew how to use it, shyly admitting he had asked his friend Santi how to put one on. Frankie was gentle with me, making sure I was ok as we both shared this experience. After, we laid together in the blankets, Frankie holding me to his side as his fingers traced the skin on my hip, both of us content to just be with the other. 

Things didn’t technically change between us, aside from another romp or 2 in the hay, so to speak. I didn’t understand why he never asked me out until a couple months later, when he told me he signed up for the army. 

“Go to college, Rea. Get that art degree and make millions off your drawings. You’re amazing.”

And while I shed many tears, I did just as he asked, even driving him to the airport on his way to basic, where he gently kissed me and told me to live my life, but don’t forget to write. 

I wrote to Frankie often, chronicling my college life as he told me about his, once his time in basic training was up. We still had weekly calls where I would tell him about my drawings, and he would tell me animatedly about learning to fly helicopters and also that his friend Santi was with him too. 

I was the first one he told about going for a special forces group, Delta Force, and his acceptance there. Santi’s too. Sometimes it would be a few weeks between us chatting, but I understood. He was dealing with literal life and death scenarios. Or at least preparing for them. 

I picked him up every time he came home from tour, sometimes with a girl on his arm. I’ll admit the first time I saw it, a part of me envisioned leaping on the poor girl and tearing her eyes out. But I had remind myself that he was overseas and I’m sure it gets lonely and I’m glad he had someone to comfort him, no matter how much I wished it was me. I dated too after that, the longest one sticking around for about 8 months before I caught him cheating on me with his secretary. Which is incredibly cliche of him. 

I eventually graduated with an art history degree, getting a job at a local art gallery and selling my own drawings on the side. It was a pretty awesome deal, getting to work and do the thing that I love. I sometimes worry it would end badly, mixing business with pleasure. But it ended up being the opposite. 

Frankie and I still talked, but over the years our calls became less and less frequent. Sometimes I was away on an art bid and other times he was on a mission, gone for weeks at a time. He would still check in from time to time to at least let me know he was alive. His absence left a hole in my heart though. He was my one constant through life, the person I could share anything with, my first for a lot of things. The few words we did exchange helped me to get to the next call, which I know is unhealthy, but not matter what I did, I couldn’t fill the void he left behind. 

Present Day

“Are you sure you’ll be ok?” My mom asks me for the millionth time. 

I chuckle into the phone. “YES mom. You guys won a cruise! Go celebrate Christmas on the high seas. I’ll come visit when you get back.”

“Well…if you’re sure. I- no! You will absolutely NOT be wearing a speedo on the cruise! Rea I have to go talk some sense into your father. We’ll call you when we get back.”

I laugh this time. “Have fun mom.” In the background before I hang up, I hear my father playfully yell. “Hey! Give me back my man panties!”

My laugh turns into a sigh as I look around my condo. I had been packing to head to my parent’s home in the morning to spend Christmas Day and a few days after with them. I unpack and head into the kitchen, pulling out a couple of steaks to rest before cooking them. I’ll make extra and then not have to cook on Christmas. Sounds like a plan to me. I make some hot chocolate and settle on my couch, a thick Christmas themed blanket thrown over my legs. I’m about to take a sip when I hear a knock at my door. I set my mug down and toss the blanket off. My neighbor is a little senile and sometimes locks herself out of her apartment. In one of her clear moments, she gave me a spare key to let her into hers, in case it was during a time when her nurse wasn’t around. I unlock the door and open it, her name poised on my lips. But instead I’m met with the biggest, brown puppy dog eyes that I’ve ever seen. 

“Hey, Rea. You’re home.”

Shocked. I am stunned. “I..y-yeah. So are you?” Nice. Good one. 

He smile, those dimples showing off as he rubs at the back of his head, the Standard Oil Heating cap I’d given him from our road trip across the state still on top. “Yeah.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Can I come in?”

“What? Oh. Yeah! Come in.” I step back to let him in, giving him extra space for the bag slung on his back. He sets it down just inside the door, kicking off his boots too. 

“Are you ok?” I ask him, noting the scar on the bridge of his nose and a fresh cut on his cheek. 

“I am now.” Silence between us, like we haven’t talked our entire lives. Although it had been a few months since I’d spoken to him, outside of my unanswered letters. 

“Did you want some-” I start, hitching my thumb over my shoulder to point towards the kitchen. 

“I almost died.”

A hole opened in my stomach and my heart fell right into it. “What?”

He nods, taking the cap from his head to wring it between his hands, but not before running his fingers through those soft brown curls. “I can’t give you details. Classified. But I almost died. I mean, I saved us all, but if I hadn’t moved my head…”

“Oh Frankie!” I throw my arms around him, the time that we hadn’t talked dissolving in an instant. His arms wrap around me, his face pressing into my hair. 

“I love you, Rea.”

“I love you too, Frankie.”

“No,” He takes a breath. “I’m in love with you.”

Those familiar butterflies that only he seems to put there come back, like they’d never left. I break the hug and take a step back, trying to look at his face. Surely he’s kidding right? This is all some joke that I don’t understand?

“We were spiraling and the engines wouldn’t cut back on and all I could think about was you. How I had this amazing friend in my life for most of my life who never judged me for where I came from or what I wore, who always supported me no matter what, who let me get pineapple on my pizza even though she hated it just because she knows I like it. She always saw me for me. And how I was so fucking stupid for never seeing it before and yet, somehow knowing I’ve been in love with you since that first kiss. I made a promise that if I got out of there alive, the first thing I’d do is come tell you, in person how I feel. And I know it’s sudden, and I know you may not even feel the same. Hell, I don’t know if you even have a boyfriend. I know I’ve been a shitty friend lately, but I-”

I grip his shirt and pull him to me, pressing my lips to his. For a moment, he doesn’t move, shocked by my reply. But then he snaps out of it, his hands coming up to cup my face as he presses his tongue against my lips. I part mine every slightly, whimpering slightly when he pushes his tongue past my lips. One hand drops from my face, outstretched behind me as he walks me backwards, his hand hitting the wall before he pushes me up against it, that same hand cupping my face again before tracing down my body to squeeze at my hip. I wrap my leg around him, pulling him closer as my fingers tangle in his soft curls. But then he pulls back, just enough to look me in the eyes. 

“I take it this means you feel the same?” He’s smiling, but he’s also serious. 

“I’ve been waiting for this since our first kiss. But I don’t think I understood it then.”

Frankie groans. “What a stupid couple of assholes.” We chuckle together, his nose brushing against mine. 

He smiles, his eyes getting that big puppy eye look to them. “So you’ll be my first and my last?”

I smile back. “As long as you’re mine.”

Within a few months, we’re married. Our first, our last, and our always.

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe

@greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @icanbeyourjedi  

@wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso  

@theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz 

@gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @booksarekindaneat @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox 

@amneris21 @gooddaykate @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed  

@ladykatakuri @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol  

@mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry 

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @heartpascalispunk 

[piftamere]

something real (wc : 1.4k)

secret santa fic for @eussstasss as part of the hq x reader secret santa by @/lale-txt, i hope you'll like it! i had fun writing it <3

synopsis : she asks her dear best friend, Suna Rintarou, to accompany her to her family Christmas party as her pretend boyfriend, too embarrassed to go alone another year. no ulterior motives.

content : suna rintarou x f!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, fluff

divider by @nectardaddy

Year after year, the questions were the same.

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Are you still single?"

"Are you ever going to bring someone home to your family?"

And every time she had to disappoint them, forcing a smile as she replied she wasn’t seeing anyone. She could see their own smiles drop and their faith in her weaken.

This year, she couldn’t take it anymore. Something snapped. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out that she'd have someone accompany her to the family Christmas party.

The moment the lie left her lips, she wanted to take it back, but it was too late. Relief washed over her parents’ faces, her mother rushing to the phone to give her grandmother the big news.

She couldn’t shatter their happiness now, not when she’d seen how much it meant to them.

A few weeks later, she was slumped over her best-friend's couch, face buried in a pillow.

"I still haven’t found anyone," she whined, her voice muffled as she groaned in frustration. "It’s tomorrow."

Suna leaned against the armrest, amused. ''You sure you tried everything?"

"Yes, everything."

"And now you’re giving up?"

"Yup." She replied, defeated.

"So… no Christmas?"

"Nope."

As she was blocking out the mocking snicker Suna was making, an idea struck her. A desperate, ridiculous idea. She turned her head just enough to look at him, eyes pleading, peaking over the pillow.

"Wait…" she began hesitantly. She sat up, clutching his arm. "Do me this one favor. I’ll owe you forever. Please."

He raised an eyebrow, almost sure he knew what she meant, his lips stretched into a mischievous grin. "What?" He wanted to hear her say it.

"Be my fake boyfriend. Please."

"Why not just tell them you broke up with your imaginary boyfriend?"

She groaned again, burying her face in his sleeve. "I can’t. I can’t deal with the pity stares or them thinking i made it up. Please Rin, pretty please."

He wanted to reply that technically, she did make it up, but her desperation must have struck a chord because, after a beat of silence, he sighed, "Fine."

If she’d had more time to think it through, maybe she’d have asked why he agreed so quickly. Maybe she’d have wondered about that smirk on his face. But with the clock ticking, she ignored the signs.

She was going to regret this.

The next day, they were standing on the doorstep of her childhood home, a freshly bought pie in her hands. She glanced at the front door, now having second thoughts, her stomach tying itself into knots.

As Suna reached for the doorbell, he suddenly paused, his lips letting out a mischievous chuckle. "Wait a sec," he said, stepping closer.

She shot him a curious look. "What are you doing?"

Without answering, he slipped his arm casually around her waist, pulling her snug against him. She flinched, nearly dropping the pie.

"Relax," he said with a playful wink, his smirk slightly infuriating. "We have to sell it, you know?"

His hand rested comfortably on her hip, like it was the most casual thing ever. She swore she could feel the warmth of his touch burn her skin through the thick fabric of her coat.

Her cheeks flushed, both from embarrassment and the sudden realization of how committed he was to the whole thing. "You’re enjoying this way too much," she muttered under her breath.

"You begged me for this, remember?", Suna replied nonchalantly, reaching for the doorbell with his free hand.

Before she could respond, the door swung open, revealing her mother who practically dragged them inside.

It felt surprisingly good to walk around the house, introducing her "boyfriend" to her relatives. The warm smiles, the approving nods and whispers. She'd almost fall for the act herself.

If only she could ignore the strange, fluttery feeling settling in her stomach every time she looked at him.

At dinner, he played his part a little too well. In the name of being believable, his hand lingered on hers as it rested on the table. She had a hard time getting used to the soft squeeze of his fingers when he leaned back in his chair, cracked a joke with her father or complimented her mother's cooking. She blinked, taken aback by how effortlessly he seemed to fit into her family, like he’d been part of it all along.

She caught herself stealing glances at him, feeling peculiarly shy at this unfamiliar, charming side of him.

After dinner, they gathered around the Christmas tree to exchange gifts. The soft glow of the lights, the scent of pine in the air and the laughter of her family made this moment feel all too real.

Suna turned to her, a small, neatly wrapped box in his hand. She wasn't expecting this. How had he found the time to buy her a gift? She was trying not to read into it.

"Here," he said casually, holding it out to her.

"You got me something?"

"Of course. I’m your boyfriend." he replied with a small grin.

Their fingers brushed as he handed it to her, and for a fleeting moment, their eyes met. Something in his gaze, something warm, playful, and maybe a little too sincere for comfort, made her heart thump loudly against her ribs.

It was becoming harder to remember this was all an act.

She tore her eyes away, focusing on unwrapping the gift in an attempt to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. Inside was a delicate bracelet, a thin chain with a beautiful charm that shined faintly in the tree's glow.

"So? Do you like it?" He asked, watching her reaction intently. He almost sounded nervous.

She nodded, "Rin… It’s beautiful. I didn’t think-"

"That I had taste? Ouch-"

She sighed and rolled her eyes, a smile still on her lips. "That you'd go this far."

Suna leaned in, his voice dropping just enough for only her to hear. "What can I say? I’m committed to my role."

Carefully, she took it out of the box. She was struggling to put it on, when he took it from her hands.

"Allow me," he gently wrapped it around her wrist and skillfully clasped it. His touch lingered on her skin, longer than necessary, but neither of them moved.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, but her mind was far away. Every stolen glance at him, every playful touch, only made the knot in her chest tighten even more.

A little lost in her thoughts, she found herself by the window, gazing out at the snow-covered yard as she mindlessly fidgeted with the charm on her bracelet. The calming view was a welcome distraction as she tried to untangle the mess in her mind.

"Look what we have here." Suna whispered, coming up behind her, his voice tinged with mischief.

She turned, slightly startled as her eyes followed his hand pointing to the branch of mistletoe over her head.

"Seriously?"

"I don't make the rules," Suna replied, stepping closer. He shrugged, raising his hands in defeat.

Fed up with how confident he’d been all day, she sighed and tugged firmly on his sleeve. He stumbled forward, caught completely off guard. Now impossibly close, he stared at her, wide-eyed. For the first time since they arrived at her parents’ house, he was dead silent. She couldn’t help but savor the moment of peace.

Maybe for a moment too long, because the surprise was wearing off, a playful glint returning to his eyes. "What? Lost your-"

"Oh shush." she cut him off, her voice firm. Before he could react, she leaned up and kissed him.

His lips were still, as if the shock hadn’t quite worn off. But then he kissed her back, his hand coming to rest on the side of her face. His playful demeanor becoming gentle.

When they finally parted, her cheeks burned. His usually half-lidded eyes glinted with something she couldn’t quite name, something intense, real.

A little breathless, he spoke, "You said you’d owe me forever, right?"

Her brows knit in confusion, her heart still racing. "Yes?"

His lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile. "Go out with me. For real this time."

She stared at him, her mind reeling. And as she looked back on today and their relationship, that always seemed tainted by something a little deeper than friendship, she realized the feeling gnawing at her insides since this morning wasn’t anxiety, it was hope.

And maybe it was time to stop pretending.

[themultifanshipper]

Can you write a fluffy carcar fic where imagine carlos trying to get oscar into golf? I saw oscar say somewhere that golf is frustrating- but carlos tells him "it's not frustrating, it's about patience" or something like that

He went to the golf course bc lando actually invited him after the wcc and all, and since lando was really insistent and he had time to kill, and he was like sure one afternoon won't hurt. So he goes, there by genuine accident they bump into carlos, and lando didn't think carlos was even back home so he was just as surprised to see him and then carlos ofc joins them but then lando has to leave (how convenient) so oscars suddenly all awkward

BUT THEN CARLOS IS LIKE ITS OK ILL TEACH YOU, ILL MAKE YOU LIKE GOLF

And suddenly oscars all flustered and both of them in their heads are all like "this is nice, omg this is really nice, why is this so nice!?"

Or something along those lines??

Oscar’s mind was going at a million miles an hour.

How he got into this predicament, with Carlos' strong arms wrapped around him while he shivered from the contact, was a mystery.

Warnings: smut, ass eating, inappropriate use of golfing equipment, public sex, kinda wild, i'll be honest there is not much fluff, asking me for fluff is like asking Fernando to retire, it ain't happening.

Lando. This was all Lando's fault.

He'd suggested going out for golf, which he knew Oscar wasn't particularly fond of.

And he was the one that had lost track of time and forgotten that he had a meeting to go to.

He'd also been the one to suggest Carlos join them, after running into the Spaniard by accident.

“It’s december!” he’d said. “We'll be the only ones on the golf course! It'll be fun!” he said. Well that was a fucking lie.

It may not have been high golfing season or whatever, but they ran into two people Lando knew from around Monaco, and Carlos.

The entire situation felt like the setup for a joke, and Oscar felt like he was the absolute butt of it.

Celebrating the WCC? Great idea. Golfing with Lando? Fine, why not. Golfing with Carlos? Not something he wanted to be doing in a million years.

He didn't not like Carlos, but every interaction they'd ever had could be summarised with two words: forced proximity.

Either they came together on track, or they were forced to interact by their mutual friends, namely Lando.

So he wasn't exactly fond of the man, but he tolerated him enough to be civil. And the less time he spent talking to him, the more time he had to check him out from afar.

Bexause he was hot as fuck, Oscar couldn't deny that. He'd caught himself checking his fellow drivers out on multiple occasions, but there were no cameras around now, so he could let his gaze wander a bit more freely.

As soon as Carlos agreed to go along with them, he knew this was going to be a long afternoon.

Golf just wasn't his thing. He’d tried. He'd really tried, he would do anything to please Lando.

But he thought it was a sport for pompous rich pricks who had absolutely nothing better to do with their time and money. He'd never had lessons, and Lando wasn't exactly a great teacher, so his form was shit, and to make matters worse, Lando and Carlos made fun of him for it.

Well excuse him for not growing up fucking rich!

“This is a shit sport!” he raged after missing yet another swing. “I just don’t get why you like it, it's so frustrating!”

Lando was too busy wheezing to reply.

“It is not frustrating, it is about patience. Observe”  Carlos put a ball on his tee, and positioned himself as if he was going to swing.

“You need to shift your weight as you swing, and don't aim for the ball, aim a few inches after the ball. And don't forget the position of your arms, the left one is straight while the right one is at a right angle, otherwise your aim will be all over the place…”

Carlos showed him the movement as he explained it, but Oscar had stopped listening entirely.

His eyes had zoned in on Carlos' arms. He knew the guy was fit, they were athletes after all, but he was absolutely astounded by how fucking enormous Carlos’ biceps were.

They were glistening with sweat under the sunlight as he flexed them. Then his eyes went to Carlos' pecs, which were also flexing, and looked like they were about to pop out of his polo shirt.

He was brought out of his reverie by Lando cursing loudly next to him.

“Shit! Guys I have to run, I completely forgot I have a meeting with my publicist in fifteen minutes!”

He left his stuff with them and sprinted away, promising to be back soon (they both knew he wouldn't, and one of them would inevitably have to drop his stuff off at his apartment).

Oscar was relieved, he could finally be out of this hell hole.

But as he picked up his bag of rented clubs to make his way back to the golf cart, Carlos put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Oh no, Cabrón. We are not done here. I am going to make you a professional if it is the last thing I do.”

Carlos teaching him golf sounded like the last thing he wanted to do, and the older man was smirking infuriatingly, as if torturing Oscar into liking golf was the most fun he could have.

But a part of Oscar was curious. Maybe he could have some fun of his own. He knew Carlos wasn't a particularly patient man. Maybe he could rile Carlos up enough for him to give up.

Making an F1 driver give up on anything was a hard feat, but Oscar liked a challenge.

It was a bit awkward at first, Carlos made him get into position, which he did very wrong on purpose, to try and frustrate Carlos.

But the man didn't even sigh, he just started explaining all about how the handle had to be pointing at his belly button, and his knees needed to be bent, and he needed to twist his shoulders while lifting the club while still looking at the ball, and then he had to-

Oscar had stopped listening again.

While explaining each action, Carlos' hands were moving Oscar's body around like a puppet.

His skin burned wherever Carlos' hands made contact.

And after a while it started getting to him. Carlos' touches were getting rougher, like he was getting sick of explaining and repositioning him over and over again.

But instead of chanting victory, Oscar's brain was slowly frying at the harsh grip Carlos had on his flesh.

They were both sweating in the sun, and Carlos was damp.

He was plastered to Oscar's back, his arms around Oscar's arms, hands gripping the handle over Oscar's hands as he tried his best to explain… whatever it is he was trying to explain.

Oscar’s brain was on one thing only: the hard planes of Carlos' body pressed against his.

The Spaniards breath smelled like the minty gum he'd been chewing earlier, and his mouth was so close to Oscar's cheek he could feel the heat of his breath as he spoke.

He was sweating, and not just from the sun, his body was on fire, and he could feel his blood rushing down from his brain to his nether regions.

Carlos hadn't noticed at first, fully absorbed in his long winded explanation of the subtleties of hip movements to emphasize striking power.

But when he grabbed Oscar's stiff hips to twist and move them the correct way, the younger man gasped out the tiniest of whimpers.

That made Carlos freeze. “Are you okay?”

His hands hadn't moved from Oscar's waist though, and that fact was making his head spin.

Carlos’ eyes followed the movement of Oscar's Adam’s apple as he swallowed before nodding shyly.

The flush creeping up the younger man's neck was enough for Carlos to understand what was happening.

He gave his hips another squeeze. “Oscar…”

The Aussie let out a shaky breath, the way Carlos whispered his name made him close his eyes in embarrassment.

“Yes?” his voice cracked and he closed his eyes, waiting for Carlos to yell at him for being inappropriate, or uninterested in golf, or gay… or something.

But the yelling never came, instead Carlos chuckled darkly and squeezed the flesh of his hips.

“Is my lesson making you too horny to think properly? Pathetic… And ironic given how you seem to be the one trying to distract me with these shorts” he spat, pulling at the hem of the offending shorts, which would be considered indecent to anyone who wasn't Oscar.

But Oscar had a habit of not realising how he looked, and today Carlos was having trouble not ogling his body.

Carlos’ hand barely brushed his bulge, and Oscar whimpered again, looking down to see just how tented his shorts were.

He had no idea he felt this way about Carlos, but here he was, hard as a rock and secretly wishing that Carlos would touch him more.

“Maybe I need to teach you some discipline before you can learn to play properly…”

Carlos nosed at the back of his sweaty neck, pulling his hips back against his own.

Oscar gasped when he felt the hard press of Carlos' cock through his shorts.

“Do not worry, I can teach you everything you need to know” he growled into Oscar's skin, hand sliding around to cup Oscar over his shorts.

That's how Oscar ended up pressed against the front of the golf cart, leaning on his elbows, and doing his best to stay quiet as Carlos ripped his shorts down his legs.

“If I didn't know any better, I would think you were hoping this would happen, given how slutty these shorts are.”

Oscar wanted to protest. They were practical! It was 25 degrees out and excuse him for not wanting to wear fucking chinos to golf.

“They're not sl-” he tried to argue but Carlos landed a harsh spank to the back of his thigh.

He yelped but Carlos scolded him.

“First lesson, no arguing with the teacher.”

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of Oscar's boxers and peeled them off, groaning at the plumpness of the flesh in front of him.

“My god, it's a miracle your ass fits in those shorts at all…” Oscar blushed at the compliment, he knew what his body looked like, he knew he was gifted in that department, but Carlos praising him was turning his brain to mush.

He let out a surprised half-moan half-whine when Carlos spread his cheeks and spat, right on his twitching hole.

The act was so dirty, they were out in the open but Oscar no longer cared, he needed more.

He could feel the cool material of Carlos' leather glove against his overheated skin.

Carlos rubbed the pad of his thumb over Oscar's slick rim, making him keen.

“Lesson two: you have to be quiet or we are going to get caught. Do you want this to be our last lesson?”

Oscar was trembling with need, and his legs were seconds away from giving out if Carlos didn't get on with it soon.

“No! Please…” he whined pathetically and Carlos laughed.

He crouched behind down, spreading Oscar open.

“Then keep your mouth shut”

He licked a stripe from his balls up to his crack, and it took everything Oscar had in him not to moan.

“Good boy” Carlos praised, and dove in, licking and prodding at his tight rim.

Oscar could feel the strong wet muscle opening him up, it was obscene.

He bit his hand to avoid making a noise , he didn't really care about being kicked off the course, but he would rather avoid getting caught, with Carlos of all people. He'd never hear the end of it.

The repetitive feeling of Carlos' tongue breaching him had him gasping into his hand.

He pushed his hips back, his back arching as he fucked himself on Carlos' tongue, and the older man moaned at how quickly Oscar's body was betraying his need to be fucked.

He pulled away to suck a couple of fingers into his mouth, wetting them thoroughly before pressing them into Oscar's slick hole.

Oscar was on fire. Carlos was using his gloved fingers to open him up, and the slick leather sliding into him made him want to rip his own hair out.

Carlos stood up and put a hand on Oscar's lower back to make him arch more, which he did gladly.

Carlos was surprised at how needy Oscar was under him, writhing and gasping every time his fingers brushed his prostate.

Suddenly he had an idea on how to keep Oscar's mouth occupied.

He reached into his pocket, where he had one of those extra large golf balls used for training, and tapped it against Oscar's lower lip.

“Open up, Oscar. You can suck on this to stop yourself making too much noise” and Oscar opened his mouth immediately and stuck out his tongue, taking the ball in his mouth almost too eagerly.

He was submitting beautifully, and Carlos had to unbutton his pants and pull them down, just to take some pressure off his now aching cock.

Once he deemed Oscar ready, he spit on his hand, slicking himself up and pushed in slowly.

Oscar couldn’t hold it in anymore, despite the ball gag, he moaned loud.

“Shit” Carlos hissed, slapping a hand over Oscar's mouth. “You need to be quiet”

Oscar was unable to respond, he was too busy drooling over how well Carlos' cock was stretching him out.

So Carlos took the ball out, accidentally shifting his hips which made Oscar’s eyes roll back and he let out a high pitched squeak.

Carlos then took his glove off, baled it up and shoved it into Oscar's mouth.

He then thrust into him hard enough to make him moan loudly again, and was satisfied when the glove successfully muffled the noise.

Or at least enough so that they couldn't be heard within a few hundred feet.

He kicked Oscars feet apart to spread him further, and slammed into him again.

Oscar was sure he could feel Carlos all the way up to his fucking throat with how deep he was inside him.

The sound of Carlos' hips slapping against Oscar's plump flesh made the two men wild as their bodies made contact over and over again, pushing and pulling against each other.

Oscar was doing his best to push back against the onslaught of Carlos' savage thrusts, but his body was slowly giving up on him.

His knees buckled, and Carlos wrapped his arms around him, pushing him harder against the now searing metal of the front of the cart.

He reached a hand down to wrap around Oscar's leaking cock, squeezing rythmically with each thrust and Oscar was a goner, he came with a muffled wail, painting Carlos' hand white, along with the front of the cart.

Carlos followed quickly after, hips stuttering as he filled the younger driver up, biting his lip to muffle his deep groan.

After a few seconds of trying to regain his sanity, he pulled his glove out of Oscars mouth and pulled his softening cock out of him.

Oscar sighed, leaning his head against the surface with his eyes closed in bliss.

He didn't register Carlos moving around until he felt him lick up the cum that was seeping out of his used hole.

He jolted, gasping as Carlos cleaned him up, lapping up his own cum and overstimulating Oscar to the point where he started wriggling and the Spaniard had to hold him in place.

The lewd slurping sounds were almost humiliating, and he was suddenly acutely aware of how exposed he was.

But that just served to turn him on again, and if Carlos had carried on for much longer, he would have definitely been up for another round.

Thankfully though, he soon deemed Oscar cleaned up of his cum, and helped him pull his underwear and those goddamn shorts back up.

He turned Oscar around and grabbed the back of his neck to press their lips together in a kiss that very quickly turned filthy and they made out for a few minutes, until they were in desperate need of air.

As they panted into each other's mouths, Carlos grinned.

“Rule number three: one lesson is never enough”

Needless to say, Oscar got a membership at that club. And he met up with Carlos every week for lessons, which they did not invite Lando to.

 Lando found that a bit strange, but he wasn't going to complain, he was just happy his two friends were finally getting along.

[hedwig221b]

Can we get a Twilight tease for Chrimus 👹🫶🏼🙏🏼🎄🎄

merry crisis! 🎄 here, have a whole chunk since I'm not posting fics anymore this year

“…and it’s not sunny, which is the perfect weather, you know, because it would blind anyone. And the ground is not slippery so everything would be fine and dandy. And you trained so hard, like, I don’t know how they listen to you—”

“Can you, please, breathe?” Derek smiled.

Stiles snapped his mouth shut and rubbed his forehead with shaking fingers. Absently, he kicked the small rock, and it ricocheted off the wall next to the team’s locker room. Behind Derek’s looming figure, the school stadium was bathed in projector lights and a booming buzz of excitement. The sea of red and white puttered on one side, mirrored by the black and blue on the other.

“Sorry,” Stiles muttered, schooling his expression into an encouraging smile. “I just came to wish you good luck.”

Derek inclined his head, studying him closely. “What happened?” he asked.

“Nothin’,” Stiles chirped, smacked a kiss on Derek’s cheek, and was about to sidestep him when Derek caught his hand. His fingers rubbed the inside of Stiles’ wrist, where the veins fluttered under the thin skin.

“What happened?” Derek repeated.

He spoke so quietly that Stiles struggled to hear him. Or was it the noise in Stiles’ ears?

Stiles breathed out harshly, rocking on his toes. “Dad knows.”

“About us?”

“Yes.”

“Great.” Not an ounce of sarcasm was in Derek’s voice. He sounded ridiculously calm as if he did not care about the upcoming game, or Stiles' dad, or the Saturday meeting— “I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

Stiles snorted. “Are you?”

“Yes,” Derek arched his eyebrows. “I’d like to know your family. And I want him to know who I am, to trust me with you.”

“God,” Stiles shook his head, swallowing harshly. Pins and needles poked his fingers until Derek caught them in his steady warm grip. For a minute, they stood in silence until the anxiety ebbed away to a manageable level. Stiles cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s going to be alright,” said Derek, sliding his hand into Stiles' one. “He’s going to like me. We’ll form a coalition and call it Stiles’ Worriers. Get it?” Derek poked him in the stomach.

“Stop.”

“It’s because we worry about you. And care about you.”

“I get it.”

Derek smiled lightly and opened his arms. “Come here.”

Stiles folded into his embrace like a wave into the sand, dissolving into his strong body, and letting Derek hold him. Just for a bit, Stiles thought. Just for a second…

Closing his eyes, Stiles buried his face in Derek’s neck and breathed. The wolf’s hands stroked his lower back, his chin rubbing against Stiles’ temple.

Slowly, Stiles’ heartbeat calmed. The lodge in his throat eased.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said hoarsely.

Derek chuckled. He leaned away, cupped Stiles' face, and kissed him properly. Stiles could already taste the victory on his tongue.

“Go to your seat, okay?” said Derek. “Have fun watching me win the game for you.”

Stiles huffed as the grin took over his freshly kissed lips. “I will. Seriously, good luck, though.” He stepped around Derek, letting their hands fall apart.

“You’re all the luck I need,” said Derek, making Stiles laugh at the cheesiness.

When he climbed the bleachers, everyone stared at him. At least, that’s what it felt like. Hundreds of eyes followed him as he entered the ‘VIP’ section and sat between Allison and Lydia. Hundreds of mouths murmured about Stiles’ dating life, debating whether it was good or bad that he and Hale were together.

Allison handed him a red scarf, which she had knitted herself. It was a token of initiation, she said with a smile.

Stiles wrapped it around his neck, then let Lydia rewrap it so that he ‘wouldn’t bring shame to her name’. They rose when the team ran out on the field, grinning hard, and hollering.

And when Stiles caught Derek’s bright gaze, he found it hard to care about those hundreds.

[arilevenatz]

You are - TEASER

Pairing: pirate!jongho x town girl!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 225

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, abuse (not done by the boys) minor character death, jongho is a shy baby, there are prob gonna be more

AN: I feel like screaming. This has been in my drafts for more than a year when the 'Everything' MV came out. The MV broke me and I was a crying mess. If y'all couldn't tell, my boss is jongho and I have seen that there are not that many good jongho fics in any platform. So I have taken the initiative. (Even tho idk if it's good or not) Anyway if y'all wanna be tagged just reply with your @ . AND please reblog and like it helps me alot

jongho, never fell in love. Not because he didn't want to, it's cause he never had the thought of it. I mean come on he is the youngest in the ship, and he can't just think about these when all of his hyungs are still single.

She, was lonely, although her family was big, it was toxic so she was always left out. And all she wanted was someone who will listen to all her problems and let her cry on their shoulders.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a faint smile.

“Maybe,” you teased, feeling more at ease with him than ever before.

When the night sky filled with stars, the two of you found a quieter spot on the edge of the festival grounds. You sat on a low stone wall, watching the festival bustling with people even though it was pretty late at night.

“Thank you,” you said after a while, your voice soft.

Jongho turned to look at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “For what?”

“For taking me here,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Looking out for me. You didn’t have to, but… it means a lot.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying you. Then he nodded, his voice quiet but firm. “It’s no trouble.”

[starryhyuck]

craving you. (m) — PATREON EXCLUSIVE

pairing: husband!jaehyun x afab!reader

words: 5.1k+

summary: are pregnancy cravings supposed to make you crazy for your husband’s dick?

genre: smut

warnings: jaehyun and reader are children of politicians, mentions of conservative views, pregnancy, public sex, bigdick!jaehyun, fingering, pussy eating, creampies

this fic is exclusive to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here! below is a tumblr preview

Once you’re on the road, he intertwines his hand with yours over the console. He raises the back of your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly. “Missed you today,” he murmurs, squeezing your palm. “Dad’s been wanting to see you too. Said you should come by the office and hang out. He’d love your input on the new traffic law they’re trying to pass.”

You hum noncommittally, staring out the window with a longing expression. He swallows at your choice to remain non-verbal, worry filling the bottom of his gut.

“Pasta night tonight, hm? I already called ahead and they set aside our favorite table,” he continues, trying to draw a reaction out of you. You chew on your lower lip, but your eyes focus on the passing streetlights. The question leaves his lips before he can stop it. “Have I done something wrong, my love?”

Your head darts over to him for the first time, gaze filled with confusion. “Of course you haven’t.”

“You’ve just been so distant from me,” he sighs. “I’m wondering if you’re upset over something I did.”

“No, no, of course not,” you shake your head, squirming in your seat. “It’s just that- T-The baby- I’m just having a lot of emotions right now.”

“You can talk to me about them, you know? I’d love to understand how you’re feeling.”

A few moments pass in silence, and he peeks over to see you battling internally before you say, “It’s not really appropriate, Jae.”

His brow furrows. “Appropriate? I’m your husband, my love. You can tell me anything.”

The rest of the ride is speechless and when Jaehyun pulls up to the valet of the restaurant, he tells the worker to give you both a moment.

“I don’t want to go in there until you feel comfortable enough sitting across from me and looking me in the eye,” he says sternly, not allowing you to run away from confrontation this time. “If you’re mad at me, tell me now and we can put a pin in it to discuss later.”

“I-I’m not mad!” You exclaim, flustered by the various people standing outside and waiting for you. “Please, Jae. Let’s just enjoy our dinner.”

“I can’t enjoy it if I know my wife is upset.”

“I’m not upset,” you hiss, groaning and running your hands down your face. “It’s not appropriate for me to say! Especially here!”

“What is it? Morning sickness? Swelling? Using the bathroom too often?”

“I want to have sex with you! Does that make you happy? I think about jumping your bones every five seconds and it’s driving me insane. I can’t even look you in the eye because all I’ll think about is riding you until I’m out of breath,” you confess, folding your arms across your chest and pouting like a child. “Now you know your wife is a degenerate who can’t think straight.”

You could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Jaehyun doesn’t utter a single word, opening up the car door and signaling for the valet to take the keys. One of the workers helps you step out as Jaehyun walks over, outstretching his arm to you without sparing you a single glance.

You walk into the restaurant with your hand wrapped around his forearm tightly. When the hostess greets you, Jaehyun says, “We’ll take the private room in the back if it’s available. I’ll pay extra if needed.”

The hostess blinks in surprise. “Oh, I apologize, Mr. Jeong. I thought you called in and requested the table by the window.”

He flashes her his signature smile. “I did, but my wife is feeling under the weather and we’d prefer if we had more privacy. I’m sure the restaurant can make a few accommodations.”

“Of course, Mr. Jeong.”

She leads you to the back, opening a sliding door that reveals a dimly lit room for two. Jaehyun nods and takes the menu from her hands. “I’ll call for service when we’re ready,” he instructs. “I ask that those doors remain closed until I say otherwise.”

“No problem, Mr. Jeong. I’ll inform the rest of the staff.”

When she exits, Jaehyun finds his way to his seat. He watches your confused expression, knowing he usually pulls out your seat for you like a proper gentleman. Just as you’re about to take your own spot at the table, he stops you with a gruff “What do you think you’re doing?”

You glance between him and the chair, and on any other occasion, he would coo at how cute you are.

“Um, sitting?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Your seat’s over here, my love,” he murmurs, patting his thigh. “Have you forgotten how to use your eyes?”

You blink twice. “Uh-”

“Come on. I can’t wait all day.”

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[bobfloydsbabe]

make the tables turn (the rewrite) | jake seresin x oc

a turning tables fic

SUMMARY: Jake goes in for a routine physical, but is shocked to learn that his doctor is Jasmine Lane—the woman he tried to take home the night before.

WARNINGS: Getting weighed, inaccurate medical stuff. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

A/N: I decided to not take down the original chapters of Turning Tables, so you can still find the fic in its original iteration. It will remain up until I'm done with the rewrite, so you can still enjoy the story in its entirety.

ORIGINAL MASTERLIST | REWRITE MASTERLIST

“Thank you, Lt. Garcia. That’s all for today,” Jas said, putting a final note in his chart.

“Thank you, Dr. Lane,” he said with a crooked smile and did the last few buttons on his khaki uniform. He bid her goodbye with a small wave, exiting the treatment room. 

Leaving the door slightly ajar, she heard him speak to someone in the waiting area, wishing them luck. She glanced at the file of her next victim, confirming that the voice in the waiting room belonged to exactly who she thought.

Martha, the head nurse, came in to top up the supply of needles on the cart in the corner. “Who’s your next victim?” She asked and straightened the already straight line of needle packs.

Martha had become a reassuring presence when Jas was first reassigned to Top Gun. She was a shoulder to lean on and she listened to Jas’ rants about how much she hated prescribing fluids and rest to men who really should be able to handle a little flu without seeing a medical professional. Martha brought her coffee on their shared night shifts and told Jas to get it together when she complained about the long and boring hours.

“Can you please send in Lt. Seresin?”

Martha’s eyes narrowed. “Watch out for that one,” she warned and went to collect him from the waiting area.

Sitting in her chair, Jas tried not to grin at the prospect of the look on his face when he saw her. He had no idea he was about to come face to face with the woman he had failed to take home.

She heard him before she saw him.

“Listen, Doc, I’m in peak physical condi…” he trailed off, stopping in his tracks just inside the threshold of her office, eyes trained on her. Martha closed the door behind him, sending Jas a knowing look.

“I’m sure you are, lieutenant,” Jas said and stood, offering her hand for him to shake, which he took with a skeptical look in his green eyes. “But you’re required to be here, so suck it up. I’m Dr. Lane.”

“You,” was all he said.

“Me.” She let go of his hand and gestured to the exam table. “Have a seat.”

He didn’t move. He looked every bit as attractive in the fluorescent lighting of her office as he had in the yellowish glow of the bar the night before. The only difference was the accusatory gleam in his eyes. “You didn’t tell me you worked here.”

“You didn’t ask,” Jas answered and gestured for him to sit once more.

His eyes hardened, but he still sat. “I asked what you did for work,” he argued.

“That you did,” she agreed. “And I told you I’m a doctor, which I am.” She waved a hand around her office at all the medical equipment, then adjusted the stethoscope around her neck for good measure. She shouldn’t wear it that way for safety, but old habits die hard.

He stared at her. “You lied.”

“I didn’t.”

“Lying by omission is still lying.”

She shrugged. “Maybe, but you were too busy trying to get in my pants to notice.” His mouth flattened into a tight line while his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you ready to begin?”

He grumbled a yes and answered a few routine questions. When Jas asked him to stand at the measurement on her wall, he did so without complaint. She joined him and brought the block down, noting the height on his chart.

“Have I grown, Doc?”

It was as if he’d flipped a switch. The sour mood of just a moment ago now replaced with an easy smile and a confident lilt to his tone. Jas saw it for what it was: an attempt to get the upper hand, but she had played this game many times before. He would have to do better if he wanted her to crack.

She met his gaze. “No.”

His brows drew together for an almost indiscernible second before he schooled his expression back into the unbothered folds of before.

Jas consulted with her checklist. “Okay, if you’ll just hop on the scale for me.” He turned to it, but she stopped him with a hand on his forearm. “Without your shoes.” 

He glowered. Gone was the smirk and the air of nonchalance he tried too hard to put on. In its stead was a seething temperament and barely concealed frustration. If she wasn’t enjoying this so much, she might have taken pity on him and stopped taunting him, but he was too much fun to tease. It was his own fault, really. Hadn’t he been cocky in his conviction that he could get Jas to sleep in his bed just the night before?

He sat on the exam table and undid the laces of his standard issue boots in silence.

He stood on the scale, and Jas joined him by it, adjusting it until it was even. She felt his eyes on her, assessing her every move and breath. Usually, her patients were eager to get this part of the exam over and done with, not keen to be weighed, but Hangman seemed unfazed.

“Alright,” she muttered, clearing her throat. “Weight is normal.” She glanced up, finding his eyes still trained on her. The smile had crept back, the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Do I have something on my face, lieutenant?” She asked, stepping away to note the weight on his chart.

“You’re beautiful,” he drawled as he stepped off the scale.

“So you told me last night,” she reminded him, grabbing onto the ends of the stethoscope around her neck. “But charm won’t get me to change your weight.”

He frowned. “I wasn’t—”

“Now, have a seat on the table so I can check your vitals.” He crossed the room to the table and sat. “Remove your uniform shirt.”

He smirked, cocky and self-assured. “If you wanted me to strip, all you had to do was ask,” he said, his voice lower than before as he undid the buttons on his shirt.

“Your undershirt can stay on,” she informed him.

He frowned again, but didn’t argue. He placed the khaki shirt on one end of the table and offered his arm to her, familiar with the process of a physical. Jas placed the blood pressure monitor on his arm and ignored the feeling of his muscles rippling under the surface of his skin. She could make out every corded muscle in his shoulders under the white undershirt, and her mouth went dry.

She could feel him watching her again. Jas bit her lip, concentrating on reading the results on the monitor, not the thrilling feeling of his attention solely on her.

“Okay,” she breathed and undid the band of the monitor. “Blood pressure looks fine.”

“No need to be modest, Doc. It’s perfect,” he proclaimed. “I’ve gotten many compliments on my blood pressure.”

Jas snorted, unable to help herself. “I find that hard to believe.”

She went to her desk to note down the results before moving on to listen to his heart and lungs. Both sounded good, and she was a little annoyed that his numbers were essentially the same as his last physical. Perfect. If there was ever any reason to hate a man, this had to be it.

“Right,” she began. “I’m just going to have a look at your ears and throat. Open up.” She placed a wooden stick on his tongue and shone a light down his throat. She shouldn’t imagine what that mouth would feel like pressed against hers, or what wicked things his tongue could do to her body, but the vision was vivid in her mind. Jas forced the thought from her mind and ignored the fluttering feeling in her stomach. It was the last thing she needed right now. 

After clearing his throat, she looked in his ears and found nothing out of the ordinary there either.

He really was in peak physical condition, and she almost hated him.

The Navy was truly punishing her. She had saved a man’s leg, and this was the thanks she got? Having to check high and mighty fighter pilots over for issues that weren’t there? 

Silently fuming, Jas walked back to the desk once again to check off the throat and ears on her list, then returned to Seresin, who still sat dutifully on the exam table. “I’m just going to check the lymph nodes in your neck, okay? Then we’ll check your vision afterward.”

He smirked. “Go ahead, Doc.” Jas placed her hands on either side of his neck and felt for swelling under the skin.

“How’d you end up stationed here?”

Jas leaned back, hands stilling on his neck. “Why?”

He put his hands up. “Good, old-fashioned curiosity.”

“It’s a long story,” she admitted, hoping the answer would be enough to discourage any further questions. She dropped her hands from his neck and walked to the back wall, turning on the light in the vision chart.

“Do you take any medications?” she asked, handing him the occluder.

He shook his head. “Make a long story short?”

“Not a chance,” she said. “Now, cover your left eye and read the line with the smallest letters you can see.”

He rattled off all the letters on the bottom row without issue and did the same with his right eye. Jas rolled her eyes and took the occluder back from him.

“Any unusual moles or other marks on your skin?”

“No,” he answered. “Tell the story over a drink, then?”

Jas snorted. “Not gonna happen.”

He hummed. “Alright, your loss.”

“Oh no. How will I ever survive?” Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

His eyes darkened, going from the color of sea glass to mossy green. He stood from the exam table and strode toward her like a predator on the hunt, and Jas’ breath caught in her throat. He stopped right in front of her, their chests a hairbreadth away from each other. He was only a few inches taller than her, but she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.

“You’ll change your mind,” he said, voice low and sultry. “Soon, you’ll beg for my time.”

The moment broke.

Jas stifled a groan and placed a hand on his chest, forcing him to take a step back and put distance between them. “I think I need to refer you to a specialist,” she told him seriously.

He frowned. “What’s wrong with me?”

Jas turned back to her desk and picked up his chart. She pretended to study it, allowing herself a moment to regain her composure. “I think you need to have your ego surgically removed,” she explained. “It’s a risky procedure, but you should be just fine. You might even get a date afterward.”

Hangman groaned, running his hands over his face. “Are you done?”

She huffed out a laugh. “Not even close, but I’ll spare you for today. You can put your shirt and boots back on.”

Jas jotted down some additional notes in his chart, including his perfect eye test, as he redressed. She put the pen down and placed her hands in her lab coat while she waited for him to finish tying his shoelaces.

He stood, and their eyes met. A battle of wills locked in a stalemate. His signature smirk spread across his handsome face. “I’ll see you around, Doc,” he said and tipped an invisible hat to her, reaching for the door handle. Jas could acknowledge that he was charming without shuddering at the admission. Almost.

“I’ll count the hours,” she joked.

Hangman abruptly turned around and caged her in between the desk and his body. She could feel the heat radiating off him. He bent his head down, and Jas felt his breath on her lips. Her eyes darted to his for a split second, but he had caught her. She knew by the way the corner of his mouth turned up.

“I’ll be thinking of you tonight,” he said, voice barely audible. The implication was obvious, and Jas’ cheeks grew hot for the first time in his presence. She hoped it wasn’t noticeable in the fluorescent light or she would never hear the end of it.

He stood back, and Jas tried to hide the fact that she had to gasp for air.

“You have a nice day, Dr. Lane.”

He winked at her and exited her office, leaving the door open and allowing the thick tension in the room to dissipate. She was still catching her breath when Martha escorted her next patient into the room.

“Dr. Lane, are you alright?”

Jas snapped her head up, finding Martha and a bespectacled aviator looking at her with worry etched into their features.

She forced a smile. “I’m fine.” She offered her hand to the aviator, who shook it dutifully. “You must be Lt. Floyd. Have a seat.”

As Jas went through Floyd’s physical, her thoughts kept returning to Hangman, trying to understand exactly how he had gained the upper hand.

She wasn’t sure, but she vowed to get it back. Whatever it took.

likes are nice, but reblogs and comments are golden

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[lovetaroandtaemin]

A Perfect Christmas

Lee Chan x Reader

Word Count: 671 Genre: Pure fluff Rating: PG! However, I still ask that if you are under 18, you do not interact with my blog.

Summary: Y/N and Chan celebrate Christmas together with an unexpected surprise.

Content Warnings: None! If you think there is something that needs a warning that I missed, please let me know, though! A/N: This is part of a Secret Santa drabble event hosted by the amazing @camandemstudios! This entry is for the lovely @chanranghaeys. I hope you like it! Event masterlist can be found here!

Fic is under the cut.

The tree was exactly how you and Chan envisioned it, covered with shiny tinsel and ornaments that covered the full spectrum of color. Some of them were references to your favorite movies, like a recreation of the “Burn Book” from Mean Girls, while others were brightly colored dinosaurs in homage to your boyfriend’s stage name. Sure, the tree wasn’t exactly aesthetically cohesive, but it was perfect in your eyes. Honestly, everything about the day had been perfect so far, just like every Christmas you’d spent with Chan before.

You were distracted from your admiration of the tree by Chan calling your name. When you turned around, he asked, “What are you thinking about, baby?”

“Nothing, just admiring the tree. It’s beautiful”

“I think that there’s something in this room that’s even more beautiful,” Chan said as he pulled you closer into a tight hug. As you relaxed into his hold, you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were to have someone that loved you as much as he did.

Your thoughts were interrupted by your boyfriend asking, “So, are you ready to open your gift?”

You nodded and responded, “Yep! I just need to go get yours.”

Chan let go of you, and you went to retrieve his gift from its hiding place. When you returned, you found him sitting in front of the tree like an excited little kid waiting for permission from his parents to open presents from Santa. It was absolutely adorable, honestly. When Chan saw you, he smiled like he knew something that you didn’t. You were curious about what he had gotten you, but you decided not to say anything.

You sat in front of Chan and smiled, handing him the box. It was small, but you were certain he would like the gift. When he opened the box and saw it, you were proven right. He carefully pulled out the two crocheted otters, sewn together to look like they were holding each other’s hands, and hugged them. With tears forming in his eyes, he looked at you and asked, “Did you make these yourself?”

With a smile, you nodded and said, “I couldn’t help myself. I recently learned that otters hold hands when they sleep so they don’t float away from each other, and I thought it was adorable.”

Chan laughed and said, “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too, Channie.”

Carefully, Chan placed the otters back in their box and set the box aside. Then, he handed you a box covered in bright red wrapping paper with the same excited smile on his face, like he had a secret. You carefully removed the wrapping paper, and when you opened the box, what you saw was the best surprise that he could have given you.

Inside the box was a diamond ring, just like the one that you’d excitedly shown him a few months before when you went to the mall together. You’d thought he wasn’t really paying attention, but now that you held the box in your hand, you knew that you’d been wrong.

You snapped out of your shock when Chan asked, “Do you like it?”

“I love it!”

Chan smiled and said, “I love you. From the moment I saw you, I knew that I wanted to be with you. From the moment we made our relationship official, I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Tears started to fill your eyes as you nodded, and Chan carefully pulled the ring out of the box and placed it on your finger. Once the ring was on, you set the box aside and practically threw yourself into Chan’s arms. While he held you close, the two of you started to discuss what you wanted your wedding to be like. As the conversation went on, you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were to spend another perfect Christmas with the love of your life.

Thank you so much for reading, and merry Christmas Eve! I had so much fun participating in this event, so once again, I'd like to thank the incredible @camandemstudios for organizing it! When the event masterlist is posted, there will be a link in this post! If you liked this drabble, please like and reblog! If you'd like to see more of my work, my masterlist can be found here. If you'd like to see what I'll be posting in the future, my upcoming works list is here. If none of that catches your attention, or there's something specific you'd like to see, feel free to send a request via asks or dms!

Thank you for reading, and happy holidays!

[rapmonjoon94]

How To Train Your Human

Summary: You went into the woods looking for your father, however you ventured too far west and ended up in the territory of the dragons. You thought you'd be incinerated on the spot as tradition states that humans can only enter dragon territory once a year, however it seems your defiance and stubbornness is rewarded when the leader of the dragons takes you under his wing.

Word Count: 18.6K

Paring: Dragon Shifter Namjoon/Reader. Side Jimin/Reader

Rating: 18+/M for Mature

Tags: Porn with plot, shapeshifter dragon Namjoon, angst, mentions of throwing up, slow burn, sexual tension, Taehyung is a little shit, smut, so much smut, size difference, size kink, vaginal fingering, eating pussy, dirty talk, strong powerful Namjoon, hand jobs, dragon joon has a big dick, he can smell when she is aroused, Dom Joon, spanking, nipple sucking, belly bulge, unprotected sex but he does not cum inside (be safe!), happy ending

Authors Note: This whole thing started because my friend told me she just finished reading a fantasy book about a girl who falls for a man who can shape shift into a dragon and well here we are. This is one of those fics where when I reread it I'm in shock at what I wrote because god damn she spicyyyyy. (And probably one of my favorite Namjoon fics I've written)

also very much based on this tumblr post because WOW

as always likes comments and reblogs are appreciated and Thank You for reading!!

-------

“Wait! You can’t! Seriously!” A male voice called to you over the sound of the wind as you hiked your skirts higher to avoid the big puddles left behind by last night’s rain and stomped into the town you had spent so much time avoiding as fury and anger rolled off of you in waves, threatening to evaporate anyone who stands in your path.

“I said leave me alone!” You called back to him, not bothering to look at his handsome face as you marched through town watching the people of Frosthill stare at you in shock.

It isn’t very ladylike to storm through town, hiking your skirts up and yelling at someone but you felt this town had ridiculed you enough to the point where you could act out a bit.

“Please! Just listen!” A warm hand closes around your wrist, and you whirl around to face him, your jaw clenched and your eyes wide. He keeps a strong hold on your arm to hold you back.

“Jimin I have heard enough. There is a person! A human! Missing! And your father sent you to what? Shut me up. Reassure me he is doing everything he can while he sits in his office and does fuck all?” You curse rolling your eyes when an older woman standing a foot away tuts at your choice of language.

Well fuck her too

“You can’t just storm his office. He sent me to reassure you we are doing everything possible to find him.” Jimin says eyes wide, as you rip your wrist from his smothering hold and let out a maniacal laugh

“He has been missing for a week Jimin. I highly doubt it.”

You don’t bother to wait for his rebuttal, instead, you trek on as most of the town is now outside their homes staring at you with a mix of shock and fear.

You delicately stepped over a puddle and continued further into town, whatever spell Jimin was under seemed to break as you could hear him calling for you over the wind as you blatantly ignored him once again and finally made it to the town square.

Families were out for their morning walk and nearly jumped out of the way at the sight of you trampling up to them, face screwed up in anger and jaw clenched tight. Little kids were playing by the fountain and they all whispered behind their hands as you passed, you had a feeling you knew what they were saying, old tales passed down from their parents but you continued to march on.

Leaves swirled around your feet and the wind carried Jimin’s pleas for you to stop and listen but you ignored it all over the blood pounding in your ears as you finally made it to The Governor’s office.

The tall brick building stood out against the rest of them as it was the nicest in the square.

You could feel the townspeople closing in as if this was Saturday morning entertainment, and you tried your best to shake that off as Jimin finally caught up to you and once again grabbed your wrist.

“You’re making a scene. Stop this foolishness.” He commanded in a tone that sounded so much like his father that it made you stop and reevaluate.

But a person was missing.

They had been missing for a week

Doing a job for The Governer who didn’t bother looking for him

A whole new surge of anger swelled inside you and you once again ripped yourself from Jimin’s grasp.

“Who cares if I make a scene? This is what they want isn’t it?” You cry out, loud enough for the surrounding people to hear you

Jimin lowers his eyes.

You bite your lip.

“You know full well why I’m doing this Jimin. It’s been a week. Seven days. We both know what lives beyond the town line where he was sent by The Governor.”

Jimin has nothing to say.

Because of course, he doesn’t

“You know why I have to do this. And if you try to stop me again-”

Your voice lowers so only he can hear, you lean in and take in his musky sweet smell and press your cold lips to the shell of his ear.

“That thing I did a couple of nights ago with you, in the barn… consider it done. Forever.”

Jimin’s eyes widen and a blush coats his cheeks as you give him a wink before climbing up the stairs, leaving him dumbfounded at the bottom before throwing open the doors and heading inside.

The lobby is warm and eases the cold that seemed to soak through your bones on your walk here and when you spot The Governor’s receptionist you can’t help but smirk when you see her horrified look at you standing in the office.

'“Good Morning is The Governor busy?” You ask, keeping your voice sweet as you lean on the desk and the door bangs open behind you.

Jimin.

Great.

“I-Uh-Well- he seems to-uh”

“Perfect I’ll see myself in!” You exclaim not waiting for her to stop blabbering as you push open the door to her right and head into the narrow short hallway that leads to The Governers office.

You can hear Jimin muttering something to her but you pay it no mind as you walk the hallway and Jimin’s right behind you again.

You stand in front of the intimidating oak door and poise your hand to knock when you feel Jimin’s presence behind you.

He doesn’t say anything for once and for that you are thankful as you knock three times and a deep voice tells you to enter.

The office is spacious and filled with dark oak furniture and luxurious chairs that probably cost all the money your family has and when he looks up from the papers on his desk he seems not at all surprised to see you.

One of the townspeople must have tipped him off.

“Ah, Jimin didn’t I tell you to talk to her, not bring her here.” Mr. Park says wearily as he shuffles more papers as if it will make him look important and Jimin fidgets next to you.

“I came here myself. Jimin had nothing to do with it.” You say boldly as you don’t bother to wait for an invitation that won’t come and instead, you take a plush dark green chair by his desk and plop yourself down into it.

If The Governor is scandalized by your behavior he doesn’t show it, Jimin however makes a noise in the back of his throat which you choose to ignore.

“Well, I have a feeling I know why you have stomped through town all the way here but do enlighten me in case I am mistaken.” The Governor says leaning back in his chair and taking off his glasses wiping a hand down his weary face.

“Well, I’d like to report a missing person, though according to your son, you are doing everything in your power to find him. I just wanted to make sure as it has been an entire week since he has left. On your orders, I might add.” You snarled as Jimin seemed to press himself further into the wall behind you and The Governor looked shocked you were so boldly talking to him like that.

“As I’m sure my son stated we are-”

You cut him off.

“Jimin did a great job of filling me in on all the things you are doing but I’d like some results, Governor. You sent my father out to gather mahogany for a town project and he was more than happy to do so even though this town has treated him so poorly. Did you do this on purpose to send him away?” You ask flattening your hands over your skirt to hide how badly they were shaking.

“Send him away? Are you accusing me? We did not do this to send him away. We need that wood to rebuild some furniture items in townspeople’s homes. The beds are falling apart. Children are sleeping on the floor. He is the town’s carpenter and inventor after all! He was the perfect person for the job!” The Governor cries out

You stare at him shifting in your chair and letting your thoughts run wild. He has been missing for seven days. He was supposed to already be back but never came home. He has actually been gone for eleven days but he said the job would only take four days, mahogany only grows in the deepest and thickest parts of the forest, where all types of creatures live.

“Governor you know as well as I do that this job was only supposed to take four days. One to head to the deep woods, two to cut down some trees, and one more to haul the wood back. He has been gone for eleven days in total. You are a smart man. We all know the lore and traditions we uphold. You know what lurks in the deepest parts of the forest where said trees grow. We all know the treaty that was formed over two hundred years ago. Did you send my father to his death? He has been called the town lunatic for quite some time now, inventor turned carpenter after the incident with my mother. It would be easy to send him on an impossible task to get rid of him.” You ponder keeping your voice steady and low as your stomach turns at the possibility of it being true.

The Governor shifts in his seat and shuffles more papers on his desk seemingly worried at what you are accusing him of.

“We do have concerns about him not coming back, the only problem is our best men are currently out in the eastern town dealing with some business. Yoongi and his men won’t be back for another two weeks and we can’t exactly call him back for one missing person.” The Governor admits wiping at his brow as you sink lower in your chair.

Two more weeks?

“I can’t wait that long. We can’t wait that long and you know that!” You cry out.

“I understand the concern but my hands are tied.”

“You have other options. Go into the forest and talk to the dragons. You must have a good rapport with them after sending them offerings for so long!” You beg and The Governor lets out a harsh laugh.

“Visit them? When we only visit once a year? The treaty that was signed said we would not impose on each other’s land except once a year to give each other gifts as a sign of peace. Invading their land just to ask about a missing person is suicide!” He cries out face red

You slump further in your chair hanging your head.

“Listen I’m going to be frank with you here. I want your father to be okay. I do. After what happened with your mother. I know how important he is to you and how he’s all you have. But this town just doesn’t have the manpower. All of my men fit for the job are out with Yoongi. This town is ever growing and changing but we just don’t have the manpower right now. And no woman is fit for the job.” He says with a high laugh as if that thought alone is absurd

“So you are going to have to wait. Sorry, that is my final word.” He says eyes full of sympathy but you don’t dare look into them, you received too many of those looks when your mother passed.

However, his blatant comment about how now the woman is fit for the job sent a new wave of anger and hatred through you. In your eyes, women were just as powerful as men regardless of what The Governor or the townspeople thought. You could easily overpower Jimin if you had to and when you whirled around to see him giving you the same sympathetic look his father was giving you an idea formed in your head.

You stood up and bowed slightly to The Governor.

“I appreciate your words, Governor. Can we make a deal? I will be patient and not bother you again until Yoongi’s men are home if you promise me once they are healed up and ready they will go out looking for my father. I would also like it in writing please.”

The Governor’s eyebrows raised but after sending you a simple nod he drew up the papers and within ten minutes you both had signed and the paper was tucked safely into your small pouch that hung around your waist.

“Thank you for your time Governor.” You say humbly as you once again bow and you hear him tell Jimin to be a gentleman and walk you home.

You snicker as everything falls into plan.

The Autumn sun is weak but still feels nice on your face as Jimin keeps a hand on the small of your back as he takes you out of the village and to your humble little stone house at the very edge of town. He is talking the whole way home but you don’t hear him over all the plans and ideas that are swirling around your head.

Jimin’s hand is warm on your back and you shoot him a grateful smile when your house finally comes into sight.

It’s nothing big or fancy. Just a two-story stone house with a coop and barn in the back surrounded by giant trees of many varieties that seem to always cast the house in its shadow.

Jimin brought you right up to the front of the house hand still on the small of your back as the sun dipped behind a cloud casting everything in darkness for only a moment before reappearing.

“There you go safe and sound,” Jimin says with a small smile on his face as you finally lift your head to stare at him.

“Thank you for walking me home Jimin. Even though I was off the handle earlier I appreciate you looking out for me.” You say smiling shyly.

“I’m always happy to help.” He says looking down at your lips not so subtly and you can’t help but smirk.

'“It is quite chilly out here don’t you think? Want to come inside and get warmed up before you head back.” You offer with a tilt of your head as Jimin nods and you let him into your tiny but cozy home.

You move around lighting candles and getting the fire started as Jimin takes the house in. He had never been inside your house as most of your rendezvous had been in the barn out back amongst the soft hay where no one could see.

If anyone knew he was sleeping with the carpenter's daughter.

He shuddered to think what would happen.

Lucky for him you didn’t seem to mind the secrecy and something about the thrill of being caught seemed to turn you on.

Jimin felt his pants tighten when he thought about that night in the barn. How warm and wet your mouth was, how hot you sounded moaning under him as he breached your wet folds with his cock.

You turned around startling him from his lewd thoughts and when your eyes flicked downwards he knew he had been caught.

Jimin also looked down to see his cock sticking out obscenely from his light-colored pants and he blushed furiously as you smiled softly and walked towards him, gracefully slow like you had done time and time before.

“That must be uncomfortable.” You comment reaching a warmed hand down to cup him through his pants and Jimin hissed at the contact.

“I was just…thinking.” He finished lamely as it seemed all the blood in his body had flooded his cock and left him feeling dumb and slow with his words.

“And what would you be thinking about that got you so excited?” You coo applying more pressure and palming the head in a way that has his cock twitching embarrassingly fast.

“The barn. What we did. In the barn.” He says as his eyes flutter closed and his plush lips part to let out a content sigh when you begin to stroke him through his pants.

“That night was memorable for me too you know.” You whisper, unable to stop yourself from leaning closer to him and nibbling gently on his ear.

Jimin shudders at the combination of your mouth and hand and in an instant he pushes you against the small wooden kitchen table and his lips attack yours in a fiery kiss.

You moan into his mouth and your hands leave his bulge to pull him into your small bedroom.

Hands come to rip at buttons and undo laces and by the time you are both stark naked in front of each other, you begin to go at each other again with a new fever that makes you moan and throw your head back as Jimin’s mouth explores your perky breasts.

You reach down to stroke his hardened cock and you feel how much arousal is dripping out of him as you gather it and slide it down his heated length, flicking your wrist as you get to the head making him twitch in your grasp.

“It was so hot watching you stand up to my father like that. Fuck I was so worried I would get erect when I was in his office,” he admits between kisses as his fingers come down to play with your entrance.

The sun is slipping lower in the sky and you know you have to get a move on.

“Fuck me. Jimin, please. I’m so wet for you!” You cry out when his finger circles your clit in a way that makes you arch up into his touch.

You know Jimin well enough to know he likes it when you beg so he pushes you down on the bed lightly and grabs your legs forcing them open.

You see the lust glinting in his eyes when he lines his cock up to your dripping entrance and when he enters you the moan that leaves your mouth is obscene. You throw your head back to give him a free show as he finally fills you to the hilt and takes in your naked form under his body.

“You are so beautiful. You know that right?” He asks as you nod and begin to fuck yourself down on his cock. Taking him this quick will result in you feeling sore the next day but you knew you had to act fast so you began to fuck yourself against him like a needy animal.

Moans were spilling from both your mouths as he fucked into your harshly. The old bed creaked under your bodies but you both didn’t seem to mind the noise. You arched your back to get him deeper and whined out his name as you felt your high approaching quickly.

“Jimin-gonna-f-fuck.” You cry out as his fingers come down to circle your clit and you tip over the edge crying out his name and cuming hard around his length.

Jimin pulls out of you once you recover and spills his seed all over your naked stomach and chest as you watch in awe how his cock throbs in his fingers and how his seed paints you.

Once spent, Jimin flops down on the bed and you head to the small bathroom to get cleaned up. You don’t bother redressing as Jimin has seen it all before and when you come back to your small bedroom he is still on the bed fighting the urge to sleep.

“That was incredible.” He breathes out as his cheek is smushed into one of your pillows and tiredness seems to take over his body.

“Jimin you seem tired. Rest here before you head back.” You coo as you sit on the bed and rub his back in soothing circles.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose?” He asks, though his eyes do flutter closed.

“You are never imposing. Get some rest.” You say kissing the crown of his head as he falls into a peaceful slumber.

-----

Jimin wakes because he feels cold all over. He lifts his head to take in his surroundings and realizes he is still in your home. He smiles to himself as he takes in your scent still lingering on the pillow and when he turns over he expects to see you there patiently waiting for him to wake up.

What he doesn’t expect is for the bed to be empty.

He sits up and slowly dresses himself before moving from room to room to look for you. Worry rises in his chest when he sees all the candles were extinguished and the fire was put out, it wasn’t even warm anymore which meant it must have been put out ages ago.

He worries that someone took you until he sees a note on the table from you.

Thank you for the dagger.

Jimin pales and runs a hand down his front before realizing he never put back on his scabbard. He took it off in the frenzy and left it on the floor of your room.

He runs back to the bedroom but his weapon is nowhere to be found and he lets out a groan of frustration.

You took his dagger. Why the hell would you take his dagger?

Then it dawns on him, you weren’t making peace with his father after all. You were only complying because you had given up on his father ever helping you. Instead, you used his son to steal a weapon that women were not allowed to have and you were going to traverse the cold woods by yourself. That was why you were so eager to bed him. You needed him to fall asleep so you could steal the weapon while it was still daylight.

Jimin bit his lip. He wasn’t sure what to tell his father. No one would believe you had played dirty and overpowered him to steal his weapon. And he couldn’t exactly walk into his father’s office and tell him he had been off having the most mind-blowing sex with you and his weapon got stolen.

Jimin sighed and left the small cabin, briefly staring at the woods that loomed around your property. Hoping you made it back safe as you were the best fuck he ever had.

-------

The woods behind your house were like a second home to you. The air was crisp with autumn and the leaves crunched under your boots as you grabbed at the scabbard around your chest to make sure it was still there.

You had left Jimin in the little cottage alone and hoped he wouldn’t mind that you had borrowed his weapon, well you guessed he didn’t have a choice as you had left over an hour ago.

The crunching of the leaves was the only sound as you traversed the woods and kept close to the path that had been set out before you by generations of woodcutters.

You were grateful you had the idea to change into your father’s clothes before leaving, as a woman alone in the woods was dangerous.

You passed the mighty pine trees and birch trees, knowing that the trees you were looking for were much deeper in the woods.

The air smelt of campfire and you tried your best to steer clear of that as that meant people, and you didn’t want to run into anyone on this path.

You pulled your cloak hood higher on your head to hide your hair as you walked through the woods, ears prickling at every sound around you as you went deeper and deeper.

The trees seemed more spaced out here and you knew you were getting close as dusk was approaching. Surviving a night in the woods without cover was not an option so you kept your eyes out for a small cave that you could hide in until daybreak.

A noise to your right caused you to jump and place a hand on your heart but it turned out to be a small fluffy rabbit sniffing the ground a foot away.

You continued your trek until you found a small cave that was perfect to spend the night in. Your parents had taught you basic survival so you were able to get a fire started and get a can of beans cooking as you waited out the night.

-------

Once morning arrived you cleared everything, checked once again you had Jimin’s dagger, and ventured off into the world.

The town of Frosthill seemed miles away by now and you wondered if anyone would even notice that you were gone beside Jimin.

You shook your head as you pulled your hood up against the morning air.

Not one single person cared when you were in town so why would they bother to care now?

You hiked for several hours. Vaguely aware of where you were going you followed the narrow dirt path and tried your best not to trip on leaves or roots that stuck up from the ground.

The path became narrower with each passing hour and doubt filled your mind as you wondered if this was even the right way.

The path was so covered by leaves you weren’t sure anymore as you twirled in a circle and took in your surroundings.

If you went too far West you would be in their territory and you shuddered at the thought.

Clouds were starting to roll in and you wondered if you were going to get another autumn storm as you peered up into the sky.

However what was blocking out the sun was not clouds, but two dragons circling the area.

Oh shit.

Their bodies were long and wide as their wings flapped carrying them miles within a single second. You clapped your hand over your mouth to stop from screaming as your eyes scanned the area. You needed a place to hide and now.

You had ventured too far west.

You were on dragon land.

You knew the stories of what happened when a human set foot on Dragonland without permission, usually, they never made it out alive.

The dragons were still circling the area seemingly looking for something and you hurried through the woods in search of a cave or a big bolder, anything to hide you.

As you panicked the dragons above seemed to hover in midair as you ran through the forest in search of a hiding place. Twigs and leaves were crunching under your boots and branches slammed at your arms and face. You tried your best to stay upright as it seemed the very forest you were in was trying to reveal you.

Everyone knew you could not outrun a dragon but you didn’t know what else to do as your heart hammered in your chest and every fiber of your being was begging you to run and hide.

You stumbled across a big rock and hid behind it just as something touched down beside you. The scream you let out seemed to echo through the trees as you clapped a hand over your mouth and stood in shock as a dragon landed beside you.

You had never met a dragon before, only heard the stories, so being this close to one was frightening.

It was a big black dragon but you could see gold flecks in his scales as he stared at you. His eyes were narrowed and curious as you stood as still as you could, hoping somehow he couldn’t see you.

Another thump had your chest heaving as you backed yourself into the cold mossy rock as the other dragon touched down on your other side.

This dragon was much bigger and instead of having golden-flecked scales this one’s scales seemed to shimmer a bright iridescent pink and you forced yourself to breathe and not pass out.

The dragons had you blocked in on both sides and you cursed yourself for not heading toward a body of water. Sure maybe you would have frozen to death but it would have masked your scent and made it harder for them to find you.

Bile rose in your throat but you fought to swallow it down as the dragons seemed to stare at each other unsure of what to do.

If they were going to kill you for stepping on their land could they at least get it over with instead of leaving you here frozen in fear as you try your best not to throw up on yourself?

The dragons finally seem to agree as one of them gives the other a slight nod before launching itself into the sky making your hood fly off your head

The other dragon wastes no time and uses its claws to hold you firm before launching itself into the sky after the bigger one.

Your scream gets swallowed by the wind as the dragon follows the other and they take you miles away from where you were just standing. Tears stain your cheeks as the wind whips around.

The journey is short and when you see land coming into view you once again swallow down the bile rising as trees of red and yellow and brilliant orange come closer.

The dragons start to descend and you close your eyes as they seem to nosedive back down to earth.

The dragon that is holding you lets go right before they hit the ground causing to you stumble and hit the mossy earth hard as they touch down gracefully ten feet away.

A harsh pain shoots through your shoulder at the landing as anxiety is gripping you tight, keeping you sprawled out on the forest floor as you breathe in the scent of moss and earth and your senses seem to come back slowly one at a time.

You hear huffs and grunts and bravely lift your head to see the dragons eyeing each other and communicating.

Their sharp eyes flick to yours and for a moment you wonder if it would be best to play dead but you know the scent of your sweat from nerves would give it away, so instead you stay down on the ground and await for what comes next.

The ground shakes and the earth seems to uproot as something much larger and scarier comes into view.

A grand dragon, like nothing you had ever seen before touches down in front of you. This dragon was huge with tar-black scales and wings that were so wide they took up most of the clearing. The dragon’s eyes were pure gold as was his belly. His wings were a mixture of gold and black giving off a sense of importance as he lifted his head and sniffed the air.

He must be the head of the dragons and you knew you were in trouble.

You dipped your head low and prayed under your breath that someone would come to save you when the two dragons that brought you here let out a series of snaps and growls, clearly informing their leader what had happened.

You stayed close to the ground shivering in fear as the leader let out a low warning growl and both the dragons that found you shot into the sky and left you alone with the biggest dragon.

You were visibly shaking, your dagger bit into your chest as you stayed flat on the ground. You didn’t dare make the first move as you felt the dragon sniff the air again and then with a flash he grabbed you in his large talons and dragged you off.

You covered your mouth to stop your scream as he dragged you further into the woods, knocking over trees and storming over land as he found a cave suitable and threw you inside.

Your body hit the earth hard and you moaned in pain as you rolled in a ball and waited for death to take you.

Instead, however, you noticed an eerie silence as the dragon seemed to be doing nothing at all. Your heart hammered in your chest as if it was fighting to stay alive and you steeled yourself before lifting your head.

Gone was the dragon and in its place was a man.

You gasped and shakily stood up bracing yourself on the wall of the cave as you took him in.

He was tall, a lot taller than you with dark hair that fell into his sharp dragon-like eyes which were now a deep brown color instead of gold. His lips were full and his jawline was sharp. He was wearing a simple black outfit that kept most of his body covered but you could tell by his silhouette he was fit.

He procured a black cape and tossed it your way without looking at you. Instead, his eyes were on the sky above as if he were waiting for something. You felt the material under your hands. It was silky but the inside was made of fur and would keep you warm as you held it in your hands you looked up at him with utter confusion.

“Put it on.” He demanded in a gruff tone as you followed his orders and threw it over your shoulders. It smelt manly and spicy and something carnal swirled inside of you.

“What? What’s going on?” You asked as your legs finally gave way and you sunk to the ground. You didn’t wait for his reply and instead, you crawled to the corner of the cave and got sick against the wall.

The man waited patiently for you to finish and when you wiped your mouth and turned around he was still staring at you with those eyes you were sure could see right through to your very soul.

He radiated power and authority and you felt embarassment creep up as you just got sick in front of him.

“What-where? What happened where’s the dragon?’ You asked feeling silly as you slumped against the cold and damp cave wall and you wiped your brow eyeing him standing there.

“How do you suppose we interact with you humans during the yearly offerings? You think your kind can speak dragon. Please.” He scoffs as if your question offends him and you draw the cloak he gave you closer around your body to ward off the chill.

He must sense your distress because he leaves the cave for a moment and returns with firewood. He plops it on the ground in front of you and turns on his heel transforming himself into the big dragon he was once. You push your back against the wall in fright but all he does is blow a small fireball at the fire to light it, then with another turn he turns himself back into the handsome man that was standing before you moments ago.

Your head is swimming with questions and your mouth feels like it has been filled with cotton as you sit by the fire and take it the warmth.

You sit in silence for quite some time until he interrupts your racing thoughts.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions as do I. I have to go out on patrol and will come back and we will talk. You stay here.” He says in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

“That cloak has my scent so no other dragon in the area will come after you while you are wearing it. If you think of leaving it is your choice but I do warn you it's better to stay where you are for the time being.”

He turns his broad back to you and before you know it he is out of the cave and transforming into his scaly self again before he launches himself into the sky.

You don’t know what to think or how to even begin to process what just happened as exhaustion takes over your weary body and you curl yourself in a ball under his cloak and fall asleep.

-------

The smell of food is what wakes you and you lift your head to see darkness has fallen and he is back with two other humans you don’t recognize.

One is just as tall as his leader with a shock of pink hair and is poking at something on the fire. The other is shorter but still very muscular with dark black hair that gives him a boyish look, you notice his hair is flecked with gold as realization dawns on you.

The two dragons that brought you here were now in human form.

You slowly sit up as the leader’s eyes snap to yours over the fire and you stare at him sheepishly not sure what to say.

“Well, good morning sunshine.” Comes the pink-haired man’s voice as he pokes at the fire again. The one with the gold-flecked hair shoots you a soft reassuring smile and you feel yourself soften.

“Namjoon said you humans get hungry often and he can’t cook for shit so he had us cook some stuff for you so you don’t starve.” The pink-haired one says cheerfully as you inch closer to the fire and take in the rabbit that is laid over it.

You hope it’s not the rabbit that startled you earlier but you realize you can’t be picky in what you eat so you nod slowly at the men sitting before you and draw the leader’s cloak tighter around you.

Namjoon.

The name suited him.

“The way you were dressed, we thought. We thought you were a lost woodcutter. If we knew you were a woman. Well, it’s still good we snatched you up.” The pink-haired one said as he poked at the rabbit again.

“Is it?” You ask timidly as Namjoon stares at you causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Yes. You are much safer here than wandering lost through the woods. How did a woman end up in the woods so off the path anyway?” Namjoon asks with a tilt of his head.

The two other humans look at you and you feel anger bubble inside of you.

“What is the big deal if a woman is lost in the woods? I’m not some helpless thing that accidentally wandered in and got lost on the trail. I kept myself alive just fine before you showed up!” You retorted crossing your arms over your chest.

“You misunderstand me,” Namjoon says calmly not at all bothered by your outburst.

“Women of our kind are…strong and capable. We do not look down on them or lock them away as your kind does. What I mean is how did you get so lost in the woods and what were you doing in the woods anyway.”

The pink-haired man rotates the rabbit on the fire as the gold-flecked one sits closer to you as if you are about to tell a thrilling tale.

“I was looking for my father. He got lost in the woods seven days ago. He was cutting down mahogany trees for the town to repair some furniture. I went to The Governor to send out a search party but unfortunately, The Governor is useless so I took matters into my own hands. I didn’t mean to wander into your territory that was a mistake.” You say.

“Foods done.” The pink-haired one says lowly as he takes it off the fire and begins to cut the meat up offering it to you first on a small piece of wood.

“Where are you from?” Namjoon asks as he refuses the food served to him but the other two dig in with fervor.

“Frosthill.” You reply as you slowly bring the food to your lips not able to deny your hunger any longer as you slowly and carefully eat.

The gold-haired man snickers and Namjoon rolls his eyes.

“Yes, we have noticed that Governor Park is useless. Always so twitchy around us.” He admits with an alluring smirk as he throws more kindling on the fire to keep the flame alive.

“So you wandered into the woods, taking a dagger that you so obviously stole to look for your father?” Namjoon asks after you finish swallowing your food.

You nod.

“That’s very admirable of you.” He says thoughtfully as you continue to eat and try to hide the pride that is glowing in your chest.

“After you eat you will sleep and we will take you back to town tomorrow.” He says after a beat of silence.

“I can’t leave!” You argue as you place your food aside and stare at him in shock.

“These woods are dangerous surely you can’t stay.” He argues back

“The Governor said it will take weeks for Yoongi and his men to return from the east. It would be over a month since my father disappeared. He’s my last living family member. I’m not leaving! I won’t leave until I find him!” You demand standing up.

The other two seemed to shrink back against the wall and you wondered if anyone ever argued with Namjoon before as the two of them seemed frozen in shock at your words.

“You are leaving by daybreak and that is final. We can’t have a human running through our woods something could happen.” He says now standing up to match you, even though he was a head taller you still stared him down with the intensity of a hundred flames.

“You might be their leader but you aren’t mine Namjoon. And I’m not leaving without my father. So either I find him or you and your dragon pack do.” You threaten as you hear a gruff growl in Namjoons throat and you can almost feel the palpable anger roll off of his body.

“Pst we aren’t a pack. We are a flight. Just saying.” The pink-haired one says as Namjoon snaps.

“Seokjin. Jungkook. Out. Go patrol the southern border. Do not come back until you are told.”

The two scramble to follow their leader’s orders as they bid silent goodbyes and leave the cave, moments later they take to the sky leaving you alone with the angry leader.

“I’m not leaving without my father.” You reiterate as you cross your arms over your chest and stare him down, feeling anger and frustration bubble up inside of your chest.

Getting captured by dragons: big mistake.

Arguing with a dragon: even bigger mistake

“You are the most stubborn human I have met.” He says lowly as you smirk proudly at him over the fire.

“What? Are other humans too scared of you to fight back?” You taunt as he moves gracefully from his spot across the fire until he is right in front of you.

His musky scent fills your nose and before you know it he pushes you back until you are backed against the cave wall. His hands are on either side of your head keeping you locked in and when you stare up into those sharp eyes they are now slowly turning gold as a rumble is emitting from his chest.

“I may not be your leader but if you want to stay alive you have to do as I say. It is not safe for you here. You veered too far past the line and are deep in dragon territory. If Seokjin didn’t smell the fear on you… if Jungkook had not grabbed you-” He shook his head unable to complete his sentence.

“Then find my father and get me out of here. If you try to remove me by force I will just wander into these woods again. I’m not leaving without him.” You say sharply as you stare up into those eyes that are now pure gold.

“You dare test me human?” He asks voice laced with danger as he moves in closer and you feel the hair on your arms rise.

“You dare sit back and do nothing?” You taunt unable to stop the words from tumbling from your mouth.

“You are in my secluded cave, my dragons made you a meal and you are wearing my cloak and you dare argue with me?” He asks again as his lips ghost over your jaw and despite yourself, you arch into his touch as your nipples brush against his broad chest.

The air crackles with tension and you feel arousal pool between your legs as you stare at him, neither of you willing to back down and instead are locked in a stare-off. He huffs deep in his chest and you cock an eyebrow almost daring him to come closer.

“I’m not leaving without my father.” You say to him again, clenching your jaw as he moves in even closer, bathing you in his scent and pinning you against the wall.

His scent fills your nose and you can feel his breath come out in small puffs as his hand curls into the wall beside your head bringing some of the loose limestone down on your shoulders. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest and your eyes flick down to his plush lips.

He once again growls low but this time it almost comes out as a whimper and your eyes flick back up to his as he continues to stare at you with an eyebrow cocked and his jaw clenching.

You won’t back down. You have learned enough times that most people saw you as a helpless woman. You felt as if backing down would solidify that so you stood your ground as you puffed out your chest to match his didn’t break eye contact.

Electricity crackled throughout the cave and you pushed yourself even closer trying to intimidate him but instead, you could feel the swell of his hard cock pressing into your stomach. He was achingly hard against you and when you pressed further you could hear a strangled groan leave his lips as his eyes fluttered closed. You let out a gasp and Namjoon pulled away backing down as you stayed plastered against the wall breathing heavily.

If what you felt was what you thought you felt this man was fucking huge.

And you were rilling him up in more ways than one.

Before either of you could speak another human entered the cave and waved his hand in the air as if warding off some smell.

“Fucking hell Namjoon the pheromones in here could kill a person.” He jokes but stops short when he sees you plastered against the wall breathing heavily.

“So the rumors are true?” He asks as his dark fluffy hair falls into his eyes and a mischievous grin paints his lips.

“Get out of here Taehyung we are leaving.” He demands as Taehyung eyes you curiously.

“Well sorry to break up this steamy moment but there is trouble in the south that you need to come attend to.” He says smoothly as Namjoon runs a hand down his face.

You feel a blush coat your cheeks and you try your best to hide how aroused you feel as you break his stare and instead look at your feet.

“That’s why we are leaving. Let’s go.” Namjoon barks as he grabs Taehyung by the scruff of his neck and throws him from the cave.

“Stay here. We will discuss finding your father when I get back. Keep that cloak on.” He barks as you nod and he disappears out of the cave you can hear his wings flapping as he shoots himself into the sky.

-------

When you wake up it is already daybreak and Namjoon is sitting by the fire alone poking at it seemingly lost in thought.

The events of yesterday play over in your mind and you feel yourself clenching your thighs as you fight back the urge to run over to him and sit on his lap, hoping to feel his hard cock all over again.

Something about him, his stature, his power, the way he had you pinned against the wall, how his breath fanned over your face had you aching for him a way you had not ached for anybody in ages.

“I know you are awake, I can smell you from here.” He growls as you sit up abruptly and close your legs.

“You can….smell me?” You ask pulling the cloak around your shoulders and feeling embarassment creep up.

“Of course. How do you think you were found? Seokjin smelt your fear.” He says matter of factly and you hide your face in shame.

So Namjoon could smell how aroused you were yesterday.

Well, that’s just great.

“I knew you could smell things like that. I just- Is that why you got hard yesterday? You could smell me.” You asked feeling bold as Namjoon’s lips drew into a dangerous smirk.

“I talked to some of my best and most trusted Dragons and they will be out patrolling looking for your father.” He says ignoring your previous question as you inch closer to the fire and bathe in the warmth.

“Hoseok will be here soon to feed you,” Namjoon reports not making eye contact with you.

“You can’t do it?” You prod as you look out at the cave entrance at the sunny day and long to be out in the sunshine.

“I’m a leader for a reason. I have skills that others don’t and vice versa.” He says teeth biting down into his lip.

Before you can respond a man enters the cave with a rabbit flung over his shoulder and he is the least dragon-like you have ever met.

Though this whole meeting dragons thing was still new to you.

He was tall and built but smiled like a million suns as he greeted you. He was friendly and kind as he got to work prepping the meat and placing it on the fire to cook. He had a million questions for you all of which you were happy to answer as Namjoon sat brooding and didn’t say a word.

The air was soon filled with the smell of cooked meat and Hoseok plated some up for you and offered some to Namjoon who politely declined and you wondered if he was going to eat at all.

Lucky for you, Hoseok kept the conversation alive as you ate, and when he bid you farewell, you missed him instantly.

“So now what?” You ask Namjoon as you wrap the cloak around your body and sigh contently.

“It depends…will you listen to me and follow directions?” He asks boldly cocking an eyebrow as he stands up from the cold earth and wipes his palms on his pants.

“Depends on what you’re asking.” You say following his lead and standing up.

He seems to stand there in quiet contemplation as you cross your arms over your chest and wait.

His eyes flick to yours briefly before shaking his head as if he is clearing it.

“Sorry Jungkook won’t stop whining about his duties today and I have to hear all about it. I’m usually better at blocking him out.” Namjoon explains as he extinguishes the fire and runs a hand through his messy hair.

“You can….communicate? Without him being here?” You ask.

“Yes, we can communicate through our thoughts if we so choose. That’s how I knew where to meet Seokjin and Jungkook when they grabbed you. They warned me a human was in the forest.” He explained calmly.

“That’s so cool. But I also feel like it would be annoying at times. I like having my thoughts to myself.” You say brushing your hands down your body to get rid of any dirt from spending the night sleeping on the floor.

“Yes, it can be taxing at times. Taehyung for instance wouldn’t fucking leave me alone yesterday even though I asked him several times to stay away.” Namjoon grits out as a low growl leaves his chest and you can’t help the blush that coats your cheeks.

“He was in your head….when we were….”

“I told him I was in the middle of something.” Namjoon grits out, his annoyance obvious which causes you to giggle.

“Well just because we were interrupted doesn’t mean we can’t continue.” You implore as Namjoon shakes his head with a smile tugging at his lips.

“If you are willing to follow my instructions I was thinking I could take you to where the mahogany trees grow and we could look for your father. It is far so you would have to ride on my back.” He says ignoring your previous comment.

“Wait hold on. You said you could smell when….. so Taehyung could… ohmygod!” You cry out not listening to what he said as your mind reeled with what happened yesterday.

Namjoon chuckled darkly as you covered your face in embarassment,

“Still on that, I see. Yes, Taehyung could smell you. Between the two of us, we stunk up the whole cave with that.” Namjoon said as you finally removed your hands and could see a faint blush coating his cheeks as well.

You didn’t know Namjoon for long, but something about this big scary leader of Dragons blushing before you was quite charming.

“I’m so embarrassed oh my god this is awful I should apologize to Taehyung.” You fret as you begin to pace the cave.

Namjoon just laughs which causes you to stop in your tracks to stare at him.

“Believe me the last thing you need to do is apologize to him. The amount of times I’ve walked in on him in the same position. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.” Namjoon reassures as you let out a small relieved sigh.

“So as I was saying before you got distracted I was thinking I would take you to where the mahogany trees grow and we can search the grounds for your father.” He continues

“How would we get there though?” You ask.

“You would have to follow my instructions no matter what so we can get there safely.”

Your thoughts run wild as you ponder the idea. It was very nice of Namjoon to offer to do this for you, especially after yesterday’s difiance and you give him a curt nod as he smiles, showing you two dimples you had never seen before. Then again you didn’t think you ever saw him smile until now.

“How does one ride a dragon though?” You ask

Namjoon stares at you

You stare back and the realization of what you said dawns on you.

“I mean-I- for travel.” You stammer as you feel your cheeks heat and Namjoon once again blushing wildly.

“If you trust me I would take you on my back, probably a lot better than me holding you like Jungkook did,” Namjoon replies as you fasten his cloak tighter and try to ignore the images in your mind of you riding him a much different way.

“If you see another dragon hide yourself against my back. We don’t want others to see you. Humans are not supposed to ride dragons and haven’t for years. You must stay hidden. You must not be seen.”

He turns his broad back to you and exits the cave turning into a dragon. You slowly and carefully mount his back, which almost feels like climbing a mountain with how large and wide he is.

Once you get yourself comfortable you give him a playful pat and Namjoon rockets himself into the sky as you hold on for dear life.

The sun is warm on your skin but you can hardly feel it over the rush of the wind as it takes you higher and higher into the clouds. The air is dense up here but he doesn’t keep you here for long as he dips back down towards the trees and finally levels out taking you away from the cave and towards your small town.

The ride is short and lucky for you no other dragons seem to be nearby as Namjoon circles a clearing before touching down and letting you gently climb off his back.

He extends his great gold wings to stretch them out before turning into a human and standing up.

The clearing is still full of mahogany trees but you do notice some of them had been cut down.

Namjoon lets you take your time surveying the area but stays close to you in case. His presence makes you feel safer as you walk quite a ways but find no sign of your father anywhere.

“Nothing?” He asks softly after an hour of looking and you shake your head, tears spilling hot and fast down your cheeks.

Namjoon pulls you in for a side hug and wraps his arm around you letting you cry into his shoulder. The dragon part of him is reminding him he has better things to worry about than the affairs of this human whom he had only met, but the human part of him aches at the loss.

Namjoon lets you cry as much as you need to, holding you steady against him and protecting you from the wind.

Once you calm down you wipe your nose on your sleeve and push your hair back from your face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cry all over you like that.” You mutter as you wipe your tears away as quickly as they come.

“It’s okay I don’t mind.” Namjoon comforts you as he keeps you tucked against him.

“I really don’t want to leave without him. I can’t leave without him.” You whimper unable to hold back as more tears fall.

“We can keep searching. You can stay for longer but…”

His question lingers in the air.

“Isn’t there someone at home missing you? Or looking for you too?” Namjoon asks you.

You let out a bitter laugh and shake your head.

“My father is the only family I have left. He…was an inventor and one day something went wrong with one of his inventions and it ended up killing my mother.” You squeezed your eyes shut at the painful memory.

“He gave up inventing and instead became a humble carpenter. I almost wonder if The Governor sent him in here to die. The whole town thinks we are strange and we have been outcasts ever since. I doubt anyone in the town even misses me. Well maybe except Jimin, but he’s just in it for a quick fuck.” You say with a bitter laugh as Namjoon seems to stiffen beside you.

“You are having sex with The Governor’s son?” Namjoon quips with an eyebrow raised.

“Not often. Just. Whenever we feel like it. I- I don’t have to explain this to you.” You say feeling suddenly shy as you pull away from his embrace embarrassed at yourself for opening up to him like that.

“You don’t have to explain yourself I just-”

“What!” You shot out unable to stop yourself.

“You thought I’d sit at home and wait for the perfect man to sweep me off my feet. Me?! An outcast after what happened. The poor girl who had to take care of her father after he blew up her mother. Do you think anyone wants that? Wants this?” You cry out unable to look at Namjoon as you yell into the empty forest.

Namjoon is patient and lets you rant but his heart aches for you. He doesn’t know the extent of what you have been through but he knows that you have all this pain inside as you keep yelling and ranting, pacing the forest floor.

Just as you are losing steam Namjoon runs towards you and pushes you against a tree, his palm warm against your mouth as he holds you steady and quiet.

You cry out in shock and anger as his eyes sweep behind you, keeping you steady behind the tree.

“Shush. Someone is here.” He growls low, cutting off your protests as you can hear the crunching of leaves, someone is walking nearby.

“We are on human land we have to go. I’m going to let you go, you will climb on my back and we will get the fuck out of here. Understood.” He demands eyes glowing gold as you nod and Namjoon lets you go.

You see him transform and nearly let out a scream as you see an arrow fly through the woods and hit a nearby tree.

You don’t stop to look back as Namjoon extends a wing to hide you and before you can climb onto his back he grabs you in his talons and launches himself from the ground.

The air whips your hair around and the only sounds you can hear are the wind whistling in your ears and the sounds of Namjoon’s mighty wings carrying you away.

-------

The news comes while you are asleep.

Namjoon is in the cave and keeps the fire going to keep you warm when Seokjin touches down outside.

Once inside the cave, he is back in his human form and drops more food for you on the cave floor as he takes in your sleeping form, wrapped up in Namjoon’s cloak and snoring softly.

“We have things to talk about Namjoon,” Seokjin says softly not wanting to wake you as he plops down beside Namjoon eyes wide with worry.

“Aren’t I the leader here?” Namjoon grumbles but he still turns to face Seokjin as you let out a soft snore.

“Yes, but what you did today was wreckless and could have gotten you killed. Then who would be our leader? Jungkook is beside himself thinking he could have lost you.” Seokjin says as Namjoon averts his eyes.

“Going on human land to look for her father. Are you out of your mind? You could have flown over but no you had to touch down and transform on human land too. Yoongi is too good with a weapon Namjoon.”

“It wasn’t Yoongi. He’s still east according to reports.” Namjoon responds still poking at the fire.

“Well, whoever it was they have good aim from what I hear. Sure we could overpower a human if we had to but you were on their land. If they killed you it would have been justified. You were way over the border.” Seokjin reminds him as Namjoon lets out a weary sigh.

He knew it was dangerous. He knew it was stupid but he thought bringing you there would give you a little bit of hope. Maybe gets you to trust the dragons more. Trust him more. He was looking for your father. He had his best men on it but instead of giving you hope he feels he made it worse.

You hardly said anything when he got you back to the cave, instead, you curled into a ball and fell asleep almost immediately.

Namjoon didn’t like that you didn’t say anything to him.

And he liked it even less that you had another man touching you, fucking you.

Before Seokjin could scold him more Namjoon cut him off.

“I know I know. It was dumb. A mistake. I’ll make it up to Jungkook later. Now have you come here to scold me or is there news?” Namjoon asks as his sharp eyes don’t leave your sleeping form.

Seokjin figures it’s best not to argue with the leader so he gets to work cooking food on the fire, hype aware of how Namjoon stares at the human.

“We found her father,” Seokjin says softly as Namjoon’s eyes snap to his.

“When? Where?” Namjoon asks as Seokjin bites his lip and continues to prep the food.

“Well, you have to promise not to be mad.” Seokjin starts as Namjoon lets loose a low warning growl.

A sentence like that can never be good.

“Taehyung…he… he went to her town and found her house. Her father somehow wandered home unscathed.” Seokjin says timidly as Namjoon feels heat rise throughout his body.

“You’re telling me. Taehyung. Went into her town. As a human?” Namjoon growls low as Seokjin seems to shrink under his leader’s heated gaze.

“Hoseok and I already gave him an earful but yes he did. No one knows who he is anyway as he is the newest of us but yeah. He did.” Seokjin says still timid as he pokes at the fire not wanting to see Namjoon's wrath.

“You came in here scolding me for being on human land but Taehyung walks right into her town?! Is he insane?” Namjoon hisses trying to keep his voice low so you can sleep.

“Well you can scold Taehyung but you're the leader….who’s going to scold you? Someone had to do it and I drew the short straw.”

Namjoon ran a tired hand down his face.

“Well he’s going to get the scolding of his life but…I’m glad her father is safe.” Namjoon finishes as the cave is filled with the sizzle of fish cooking.

“Are you?” Seokjin asks eyebrow quirked as Namjoon stills.

“Of course I am.” He retorted as you shifted in your sleep.

“We all have noticed you have grown fond of the human. Are you going to be able to let her go?” Seokjin asks as you stir more and Namjoon knows it’s only moments before you will wake.

“I have to. I have no choice.”

The news gets broken to you after you eat.

Both Seokjin and Namjoon decide to wait until you are finished at the fear of you choking when they tell you your father is safe at home.

“So what happened?!” You ask, shock apparent on your face as Seokjin recalls how Taehyung walked into your town and found your house, finding your father safe and sound but terribly worried about you.

“Now I really should apologize to Taehyung after what he walked in on.” You mutter as Seokjin lifts a brow and his eyes flit to Namjoon who is suddenly very interested in the cave wall.

“There are still a couple of hours of daylight left if you wish us to take you to him. You just have to promise if anyone asks about Taehyung you pretend you have no idea. Also maybe just tell them you got lost in the woods. We don’t want to bring trouble to our kind because we took you in. Taehyung has brought enough trouble by going into town.” Seokjin explained with a shake of his head but a small smile on his lips.

He seemed just as excited as you that your father was safe.

Namjoon however stayed stoic and silent as he stared at the cave walls, occasionally looking at you.

“Well, I have a patrol to do. Namjoon can take you back.” Seokjin explains as he stands up and you follow suit.

You wrap him in a warm hug and thank him for everything and Seokjin returns the hug but his eyes are locked on Namjoon who is now staring with a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“Please thank Jungkook and Hoseok for me. Oh and tell Taehyung I’m sorry he had to walk in on…yeah.” You finish pulling away and blushing to match Namjoon’s blush.

Interesting.

“What exactly did he walk in on? Just so I know what to say?” Seokjin teases as Namjoon stands up quickly and barks at Seokjin to get a move on.

Seokjin waves over his shoulder and leaves you alone with Namjoon who looks anything but pleased.

“We should go.” He says softly as he puts out the fire and his cold attitude matches the cold of the room as he leaves and transforms into his dragon self outside.

You slowly look around the cave once more before leaving and slowly climbing on Namjoon’s back. He lets out a small huff and shoots himself into the sky.

Your thoughts are a tangled web as the world around you suddenly doesn’t seem as interesting as it did before.

You were glad that your father was safe. You were glad that he was home which also meant you could come home. You’d have to find a way to return Jimin’s dagger to him without raising suspicion but the thought of seeing Jimin again made you feel queasy.

Not because of Jimin himself but because of what you told Namjoon.

Also Namjoon in general.

The way he looked at you, the way he pinned you against the cave wall. You knew something was simmering below the surface and as glad as you were that your father was back, you also wished you had more time to explore it.

You opened your heart to him and didn’t have time to let him open his. You didn’t feel ready to go back to your old life, something about Namjoon drew you in, made you feel powerful, made you feel alive.

Before you could even begin to untangle these thoughts you felt him descending on the very edge of the forest and you held your breath as your stomach swooped.

Namjoon touched down gracefully for being so large and you carefully climbed off his back before he could transform into a human.

You didn’t know what to say, how to thank him, how to say goodbye but it seemed he didn’t give you the chance because as you were about to open your mouth he let out a small huff and shot up into the sky, leaving you standing in the clearing alone.

Well.

That was that then.

-------

The days turned into weeks and everything slowly turned back to normal.

The reunion with your father was sweet as he swept you into his arms and told you how he got lost in the woods for several days only living off berries until he eventually stumbled back.

You told a similar tale, keeping your promise to Seokjin and leaving out the parts about the dragons as you settled back into your life.

Two days after your return you ran into Jimin in town as you were buying bread. You whispered for him to meet you in the barn around nightfall.

However, you didn’t meet him but you left his dagger on the hay pile where you usually fucked.

Jimin wouldn’t look at you after that, instead shooting you dirty looks whenever he could but you didn’t mind. You didn’t miss him much anyway.

The winter chill came hard and fast this year coating everything in snow as you trekked through town to continue to grab supplies for your small cottage.

The air was bitingly cold and you held your hood firmly over your head to ward off the chill as you completed your errands.

Jimin was in the blacksmiths as you passed and you held your head high, only to be met with the ding of the bell and his boots crunching through the snow next to you.

“So that’s it then? You steal my dagger and just throw it on the hay pile to be found by me? Can’t even talk to me anymore.” He hisses as you stop in your tracks and face him.

“My father was gone for ages and your father did nothing to help him. My father just got back… so sorry I want to spend time with him instead of letting you get your dick wet.” You snarl under your breath as Jimin steps back in shock.

“I covered for you when you stole my dagger and this is how you repay me?” He says anger seeping through his voice as your breaths mingle in the cold air.

“How exactly did you cover for me? You had sex with me and fell asleep and I stole your dagger. What were you going to tell your father when he asked? Surely you weren’t going to tell him you were with me.”

“I pretended I lost it to save you!” He blurts out.

“Save me or save yourself? I know you are ashamed to be with me Jimin. I know you see me how the rest of the town does though you won't admit it.” You say calmly.

Jimin stares at you, his beautiful face painted in anger.

“Were done. This. This is done.” he scowls pushing past you to storm down the street.

But you had already known it was done.

It was done the day you first laid eyes on Namjoon.

You let your thoughts drift back to him as you make your way out of town to your small cottage struggling under the weight of the bags and the fresh fallen snow.

It still stung that Namjoon never bothered to say goodbye and you almost wonder if he is even thinking about you too.

You haven’t forgotten the tension in the cave, how hard and needy he felt against you as he pushed you against the wall. How often those sharp eyes would land on you making you squirm.

Before you know it you are at your front door. You try to clear the thoughts of Namjoon from your mind but you know no matter how hard you try you will never meet a man like him in your entire life.

-------

A month had gone by since you had seen Namjoon. A whole month of sitting in the cottage and yearning for him and letting your thoughts be consumed by him.

Your father knew something was up and asked multiple times what happened in the woods but you reiterated the same story over and over until he had given up.

One cold frosty morning you were tending to the chickens when you saw something flutter out of the corner of your eye.

You finished collecting the eggs and when you turned it was still there.

A black cloak fluttering on a tree branch a couple of feet from your coop. You knew that cloak, you would recognize it anywhere and you nearly dropped the eggs when the wind grabbed it, revealing the fur lining.

Namjoon was here, somewhere. Or had been here.

He dropped it off for you.

He was thinking about you too.

You slowly placed the basket of eggs on the ground and walked over the cloak, your hand slightly shaking.

When your hand wrapped around the soft material you couldn’t help but let your eyes close as all the memories replayed in your mind. The cloak smelt of him and your head spun when you wrapped it around your shoulders, taking you right back to that cave, right back to him hard and needy against you.

Your thoughts were broken by church bells echoing across town and out to your little home as you quickly grabbed the eggs and headed inside still wearing the cloak.

Your father had questions of course but you lied and said one of the townspeople must have lost it and you would do your due diligence to return it tomorrow.

He seemed pleased with that response and you hated lying to him but was it really lying if you were going to return it to the dragon it belonged to?

-------

The forest was a lot different in just a couple of months, and every step you took deeper into it reminded you of that.

The trees were bare as the winter chill had stripped them down to only their branches. Most of the leaves had been cleared away leaving you walking through deep snow, hiking up your father’s clothes once again as you wandered in.

Even without having Jimin’s weapon, you didn’t feel afraid.

Namjoon had told you once that he could smell everything on you

From fear to sweat to….arousal.

You knew it was only a matter of time before he found you again.

The woods grew dense and the snow was starting to freeze your toes in your boots as you carried on.

The sun was weak today casting everything in a somber light as you held onto a tree for support and caught your breath.

Even if somehow he couldn’t smell you, you did have the protection of wearing his cloak and that gave you the strength to carry on.

An hour in the snow was still deep and you were having a hard time traversing it. The cloak kept you warm and safe and the trees provided a small barrier against the wind.

Two hours later you were wondering if this whole thing was a mistake.

You figured you’d wander in the woods and he would sense you were there, maybe smell you, and be on you in minutes. However, the minutes had dragged into hours and you felt numb and sore.

Your feet ached in cold and your cheeks were stinging and tinged pink as your breath fogged in front of your very eyes.

The temperature was dropping.

This was a bad idea.

Just as you were about to give up you could hear the flapping of wings and you looked up in time to see a huge dragon sailing above you.

It seemed to sense you and your heart fluttered thinking it was your dragon. However, when it started to descend you realized you didn’t recognize this dragon at all.

No gold-flecked scales, no pink either.

It touched down harshly in front of you and its beady eyes narrowed on yours.

You stayed frozen as you checked the dragon, all black except for a sickly green color around its snout.

It licked its lips and your stomach plummeted.

This was not a friendly dragon and you were about to be lunch.

Just as the dragon opened its mouth to shoot fire you were swooped up in claws and taken from the forest floor.

The wind whipped your hair around and when you finally found the bravery to open your eyes you looked up to see your saviour which was a black dragon with a golden belly.

“Namjoon!” You cried over the wind as he ignored you and took you higher and higher across the winter sky.

Flying was a lot colder this time around and he seemed to take you further than he ever had.

By the time you had touched down your cheeks and hands were frozen and you felt chilled to the bone.

He didn’t drop you off at the cave, or any cave for that matter. In fact, he dropped you off high in the mountains where an old rustic cottage sat.

You were about to open your mouth to thank him but you saw he wasn’t transforming back into his human self.

His eyes were narrowed and golden and even though he didn’t speak you could feel the rage radiating off him in waves.

He nodded a head towards the cottage and took off in flight leaving you stranded at the edge of a mountain.

You stood there watching his great wings flap against the sky and before long he was a speck in the distance.

You had no choice but to enter the quant cottage and warm yourself up as you got a fire started. It took ages with your numb fingers but once you were able to light the match the whole living room was bathed in warm firelight.

You padded from room to room slowly looking around as the wind howled all around you.

There was a small kitchen, a cozy living room, a small bathroom, and two bedrooms in the back.

Something drew you to the bedroom on the left and when you went inside your head spun. All you smelt was him.

Namjoon’s scent was everywhere and when you opened the closet sweaters and pants hung nearly, organized by color.

Your own clothes were frozen and not nearly as comfortable so you stripped in his room and grabbed a soft blue sweater to throw over your head.

You didn’t bother with the pants as he was much bigger than you but you did strip them off anyway and decided you would wear his sweater as a dress.

Making your way back to the living room you saw him standing by the fire, the light illuminating his dark features and when he made eye contact with you the air seemed to woosh from your lungs.

“You really are the most stubborn human I have ever met you know that.” He growls as his narrowed eyes rove your body and you are suddenly very aware you were not wearing pants.

“Good to see you too.” You deadpan as you make your way over to the couch and throw a blanket on your lap to cover yourself up.

“Do you know how bad it could have been if I had not been following you for the last hour?” He asks, voice low and dangerous as the fire flickers.

“So you knew I was in the forest then?” You ask

“Obviously.” He says sounding bored.

“And you didn’t think to come get me sooner? I walked around for two hours like an idiot looking for you.” You say sharply feeling embarassment rise.

He knew you had been there all along. He just let you wander lost.

“I thought you’d give up. I guess I forgot your stubbornness.” He chuckled to himself as he continued to stare into the fire.

“Why would I give up? You left your cloak on my property and I-I thought.” You said letting your voice die out as you stared at your lap.

You read this wrong, the whole thing was wrong and now you looked like a fool.

“Yes, I was wondering where that cloak had wandered off too.”

Your eyes met his sharp ones and he let out a long weary sigh.

“My cloak went missing days ago. It seems Taehyung has a taste for meddling. I made him confess right after I found you.” Namjoon says finally pushing away from the fire to sit in a lounge chair next to you.

“I-I thought- I…wow this is embarassing.” You say hugging your arms around yourself and staring at your feet unable to look at him.

“You thought I sent it.” He asks softly as you finally look his way.

His expression is gentle and understanding and you nod slowly.

“I had been completing rounds in an area Taehyung knew I would be in. I smelt the cloak right away. I smelt you right away. I was hoping you would give up. Go home but as I said you are a stubborn human. The dragon that found you. That could have been bad. Which is why I wanted you to go home. The forest is dangerous. I am dangerous.”

“So you don’t want me here?” You ask in a small voice feeling the sting of rejection deep in your chest.

“I brought you to my private cottage in the mountains. The only ones who know about it are my dragons. I brought you here for three reasons. Number one to keep you safe.” He says voice low as he leans closer to you as if he is about to tell you a secret.

“Number two, I told my dragons if they even fly close to this place tonight I will incinerate them.”

You giggle.

“Number three is because here you are, wearing my clothes, smelling of my cloak, and if I am not mistaken wearing no pants. I brought you here so I could ravish you in peace.”

You let out a small whimper at his words, squeezing your thighs together as Namjoon chuckles low and dangerously.

“That’s why you came all this way right? Why you put yourself in so much danger? Why you haven’t fucked the Park boy in weeks….. yes I know about that.” He says before you can interject.

You whimpered out his name. The tension was thick as a cloud and made your heart rate speed as he leaned even closer to you and you sucked in a breath.

“You want me, don’t you? You have wanted me since that first fight in the cave? Am I correct?”

You nod unable to form words as his hand reaches out to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“I didn’t say goodbye the first time because I couldn’t. I felt the same as you. The pull. The desire. Saying goodbye was too hard. I kick myself almost every day that I didn’t take you right there up against the cave wall. You were so stubborn, so infuriating that it made my cock so fucking hard.” He snarled, face inches from yours breath warm against your face.

“Do you still think I’m stubborn and infuriating?” You ask in a small voice as you shrink under his searing gaze.

“My human walked into the forest today, put her life at risk to get a good fuck by a dragon. What do you think princess?” He rasps against the shell of your ear causing goosebumps to rise on your skin despite the warm fire only mere feet away.

“You-Your human?” You asked him slowly blinking as he snickered and his mouth stretched into a sinister smile.

“Yes. My human. I’m going to fuck you and make you mine. As long as that’s what you wandered into the woods for?” He says teasingly with a cock of his eyebrow.

Desire throbbed throughout your body and you felt the anticipation of what was to come hang in the air.

You wanted him and you wanted him bad.

“Need to hear you say it human. Say how bad you want me.” He demands as you nod.

“No no, I need words.” He teases causing you to arch up and try to connect your lips with his.

“Words darling. Words. You do know what those are?”

You swallow hard.

“Yes. Namjoon please fuck me.” You beg as his eyes ignite gold and he grabs you and throws you over his broad shoulder.

You squeal and hold on for dear life as a hand comes down to spank your backside causing you to gasp and leak arousal down your thighs as he kicks open the bedroom door and throws you down on the bed.

Before you can blink his body is on top of yours, keeping you pinned to the bed as his mouth roves your neck. His nose is cold against your skin and you arch up to meet his body wanting to be covered by every inch of him as he explores you with passion.

“Kiss me- fuck Namjoon-please.” You beg as he attacks your lips with his own causing you to moan obscenly against his warm mouth.

His lips are firm and when he grinds his body down on yours you are delighted to feel the swell of his hard cock pressing against your stomach as you grind yourself against it to try and help relieve some of the ache that has formed between your legs.

Namjoon’s kisses are hot and when he delivers a small bite to your lip you gasp as he takes to opportunity to slip his tongue inside and explore your mouth.

Your hands are scraping at his body, desperate to feel his bare skin against yours as his hand comes to play with the hem of his sweatshirt that you are wearing, pulling it higher and higher exposing yourself to him.

He breaks the kiss causing you to whine in protest as he sits up and shucks his shirt over his head. You gasp when your eyes are met with miles of tanned skin and muscles that had been sculpted by hard work.

What shocked you most was his markings.

His body had many gold lines running around it. One thick line ran from his neck all the way down to his naval and you wondered if it would run further down.

His arms had thick gold bands circling them and he must have seen you staring because he turned around to show you his back, which had gold markings in the shape of dragon wings.

“Wow.” You breathed out as you took in his beauty.

He blushed under your praise.

“We get these markings when we become leaders. I’ve been a leader for five years but the wings just came in last year.” He explains as he sits on the bed and carefully takes your hand pressing it to the gold marks on his chest.

“You’re beautiful Namjoon.” You breathe out as he gives you a rare shy smile, which once again causes those dimples to show on his cheeks.

You slowly use the tip of your finger to trace the gold line on his chest, he shivers under your touch but lets you continue as you trace down his body, eyes following the path to where the line dips lower and his hard cock is straining against his pants in a way that has your mouth watering.

When you make it to the edge of his pants his resolve snaps and Namjoon pushes you back down on the bed and begins to kiss you again.

Your hands come to grab at his hair as his mouth attacks yours as his hips jut his cock into your stomach.

His lips don’t stay on yours for long as they begin to travel down your cheek and to your jawline where he peppers them making you whine and thrash under him.

“Don’t tease please.” You beg out as his lips suck a mark into your skin just above your collarbone as he chuckles against your skin.

“My little human you have to remember I’m a shapeshifter. A dragon. My cock is going to be a lot bigger than what you are used to. I have to prep you my impatient one.” He coos against your skin making you moan as his lips are intoxicating against your skin and you want nothing more than to have them somewhere else.

He seems to read your mind as he once again sits up on the bed and tugs at the sweater you are wearing, pulling it off and throwing it to the floor with a thump.

“Good choice. That is one of my favorite ones. You looked divine in it but I think you look better without it on.” He notes as his eyes rove your naked body.

“It…It was the one that smelled the most like you.” You admitted as his narrowed eyes took their time exploring your body.

From your collarbones to your breasts to your stomach and when his eyes dipped down to the flimsy piece of cloth covering your core the gold in his eyes seemed to shimmer.

“My beautiful human.” He hums as his lips connect with the skin of your neck and you throw your head back as they once again move.

When his warm, wet mouth makes it to your breasts you whine out his name as you try your best to hump your lower body into him.

At this point, you wonder if you have soaked the bed under you with how aroused you feel.

“Patience.” He reminds you as his mouth finally connects with your nipple and you see stars.

His other hand comes up to palm at your other breasts as he takes his time with your right one. Alternating between licking and sucking making arousal shoot through your bloodstream.

His mouth is warm and wet and when he pulls off your nipple with a wet pop you can’t help but squeeze your legs together in anticipation.

His eyes travel south and his mouth curls into a smirk when he catches the piece of fabric, so wet against you as he tears it from your body.

You gasp.

Namjoon slowly gets off the bed and palms his hard cock through his pants. His bulge is straight up obscene the way it is pushing against the fabric of his pants and when he adjusts it you can clearly see the head leaking precum staining his pants.

“Please. Namjoon. Please.” You beg feeling delirious from your arousal as he chuckles and grabs your legs pulling you to the edge of the bed with ease.

“How many times do I have to remind you to be patient with me? As much as I would love to slide my cock inside of you, and believe me I can tell by your scent how aroused you are, I also don’t want to hurt you.” He explains as he grabs a pillow and kneels on it you sit up to stare at him, the leader of the dragons kneeling before you.

“If your flight saw you now what would they say.” You teased as Namjoon’s eyes seemed to glow a brighter gold, even the markings on his body seemed to glow at your words.

“They would be jealous of how lucky I am to be between your legs about to ravish your pussy.” He says calmly as you throw a hand over your mouth to stop the moan that threatens to spill out.

“We are high in the mountains darling you can be as loud as you want. Actually, I encourage it.” He says shooting you a wink.

The first lick makes you arch off the bed and cry out his name.

The second lick makes you whine and moan against him

And the noises are just obscene.

His tongue laps and sucks at your core, licking up everything you have to give him as he noses at your clit and dances his tongue across your soaked folds.

You want to watch him but the pleasure takes over as you lay back on the bed and moan his name to the ceiling as he works you towards a high you know will destroy you.

His tongue flicks across your clit sending sparks up your spine and his hands stay firm on your thighs holding you to the bed as you take everything he is giving you.

Your voice raises in pitch. Your stomach is coiling in pleasure and when you finally cry out his name in warning Namjoon growls against your core and that sets you off.

You cum while gripping the sheets and crying out his name as waves upon waves of pleasure crash down on you. Namjoon licks up everything even going as far as nuzzling his nose against your pussy to give you extra stimulation.

When you can’t take it anymore you reach down to softly push his head away.

You feel weak and dizzy but also invigorated as you finally sit up and see Namjoon still kneeling before you.

His eyes are back to their brown color but his markings still glow and his face and cheeks are wet with your orgasm.

“Fuck.” You get out as you lay back down on the bed and press a hand to your racing heart.

It seems however Namjoon is not done as you feel a finger trace up your leg, starting at your knee and teasing higher and higher.

He gets up from the floor and places one knee on the bed and one hand on the bed holding himself steady as he hovers over you.

You push yourself up on your elbows as you suck in a sharp breath when he finally makes it to your core and when his finger circles your entrance you nod at him.

Namjoon coats his finger in your wetness before slowly pushing it inside your pussy. You sigh at the feeling of finally being filled and when he adds another finger you can’t help but grind down on them.

“Needy thing aren’t you.” He chuckled as he began to fuck you on his long fingers, pulling them out and pushing them in making you shiver.

As Namjoon works you with his fingers you can’t help but notice his neglected cock twitching in his pants.

You surprise him but reaching out for it and palming his length causing a low growl to leave his throat as he curls his fingers inside of you to rub at that spot that makes you see stars.

“Patience. You will get my cock in due time.” He says gruffly as his fingers start to speed up inside of you.

“Want you to feel good too Joon.” You argue as you palm at his cock and apply pressure to the head of it making him throw his head back and the veins in his neck bulge as you work him.

“I have two fingers deep in your pussy I feel great.” He argues back as he once again curls his fingers and you cum around them without warning.

Your walls spasm and you cry out his name as more arousal coats your insides and Namjoon helps you work through your high.

You come down a lot quicker this time and when you sit up you see Namjoon happily lapping at his digits that were just buried deep inside you.

“Can’t wait any longer need your cock.” You beg as he snickers and stands up from the bed.

Namjoon stands at the foot of the bed and stares you down. His eyes are narrowed and sharp as he takes in your ruined frame. He slowly reaches for his pants and palms at his cock as you take him in.

You knew he was the leader of the dragons. He was powerful, but this man standing in front of you radiated such confidence and power, that it made your mouth dry as he seemed to have enough of his own teasing and he finally pulled his pants down agonizingly slow.

When you saw the base of his cock you swallowed hard at its girth as he revealed more of himself to you. Once he shed himself off his pants his cock slapped against his stomach and your eyes grew wide.

He was thick and long, longer than you had ever seen and his cock was flushed an angry red color, but surprisingly had the gold markings wound around it.

His cockhead was leaking precum and it twitched against him as you fought to tear your eyes away from it and back to his handsome face.

“You understand now why I had to prep you.” He says with an eyebrow raised as you bite your lip and nod.

Namjoon settles himself on the bed as anticipation hangs in the air. You try to be polite and stare anywhere else but his cock but your eyes seem drawn to it and your pussy throbs at the thought of it entering you.

“You asked me once how do you ride a dragon?” he quips as he leans back against the headboard with a confident smirk on his face.

“Well, I think I’d like you to show me how you ride a dragon.”

You waste no time in climbing up on his lap settling yourself on his powerful thighs. You bring a hand down to grip his cock and moan at the sheer size of it.

Namjoon leaks steadily down his shaft as you begin to jerk him off slowly.

You flick your wrist at the top and he lets out a low grunt in his throat as you work him.

His shaft is warm and velvety under your palm and you can almost feel the blood pumping through it from the vein on the side.

Namjoon tries his best to hold back and let you explore but the feeling of your wetness coating his thigh and the fact he is already so embarrassingly close by just a couple strokes of your hand makes him push your hand away.

“You are too good at that you know.” He mutters

You snicker.

“Yeah, I’ve had some practice.” You taunt as Namjoon’s eyes narrow and a low disapproving grumble vibrates in his chest.

“And from now on the only person you will practice with is me. My human. Mine.” He growls as his teeth nip at your earlobe and you throw your head back and whine out his name.

“Say it. Say you're mine and only mine.” Namjoon demands as one hand comes down to swat at your ass causing it to sting and a broken moan to fall from your lips.

“Say it or I won’t fuck you.” He threatens as he once again slaps your ass and you cry out his name, tears of desperation gathering in your eyes.

“Yours. Joon. Only yours.” You beg as he snickers and his inner dragon purrs happily at the sound of that before he grabs the base of his cock and lines it up with your dripping folds.

“Now you have to be a good girl and listen to everything I say before I fuck you okay.” He mutters against your ear as his other hand comes up to pet your hair.

“Anything Joon. Anything.” You cry out.

“I’m going to stick my cock in you and you are going to sit there and take it until you adjust okay. I don’t want to hurt my beautiful human. I want her to be a good girl and wait until she’s fully adjusted got it?” He asks as you sob and try to force yourself down on his cock desperation making you act out.

“I said to be a good girl. Can you do that for me?” He coos in your ear as you whine and nod.

Namjoon slowly grabs his cock and lets you sink onto it at your own pace.

The stretch is unbelievable and you almost feel your eyes cross at how good it feels. You take him inch by inch, taking deep breaths and stopping when you need to.

Namjoon is patient as he lets you sink down but you can tell by the look on his face he is doing everything in his power not to fuck up into you wildly.

Once you make it to the bottom and he is fully sheathed you let out a shaky breath and press your hands to his warm chest for support.

“Fuck I’m so full Joonie.” You grit out as the stretch still stings, though the comforting circles he rubs on your back do help.

“I know baby. You feel so tight around my cock. Squeezing me so good. You're going to squeeze the cum right out of me aren’t you.” He purrs in your ear which makes your walls flutter around his length.

“So full but so good.” You cry out as you look down and gasp when you look between your bodies.

Namjoon’s cock is so big, so deep inside of you it makes your lower stomach bulge out slightly. His eyes follow yours and he lets out an animalistic growl as he sees how full you are.

The minutes tick by. You feel yourself slowly start to relax around his cock and when you finally look up into his handsome face he has his eyes closed, his teeth biting into his lip and is taking short breaths out of his nose.

“You okay there Joon?” You ask playfully as he opens his eyes which are once again shining gold and he stares at you.

“I’m okay.” He says voice slightly cracking as you giggle, finally feeling your body adjust to his length and you wiggle your hips slightly, teasing him.

“Are you sure? You look in pain?” You goad unable to stop yourself from swirling your hips and looking at the pained expression on his face.

“You feel so hot and tight around me and I am trying to be a gentleman and let you adjust but you teasing me like this is not helping.” He grits out and you once again giggle.

“Who says I’m not adjusted?” You tease and it’s game over.

Namjoon grabs your hips so hard you know you will have bruises tomorrow and he fucks up into you wildly.

You grab onto his shoulders for support as you grind down to meet his thrusts.

Namjoon huffs out in annoyance and rolls you over so he is on top of you and begins to snap his hips harshly, causing his cock to reach inside of you so deep it makes you see stars.

“S-So good.” You cry out voice slurring as he continues to pound into you with force

Namjoon grunts in your ear, low and dangerous as he fucks into you, his voice sending shivers up your spine as he pistons in his hips into you in a way that has his cockhead touching your g-spot with every thrust.

“You test me. You tease me. You come into these woods putting your life in danger just to find me. You are so infuriating sometimes.” He growls as he holds you down on the bed and fucks into you sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing over your body.

“I think you like the thrill you know. I think you like someone testing you.” You shoot back as his face snaps up to meet your gaze and he licks his lips.

“You know I fucking do.” He groans as he slips his cock out of you and you are about to protest but he flips you over and gets you on your hands and knees.

His cock enters you again and this time the angle is different and so much deeper as he pounds into you harshly, making you take his entire length.

“You know how hard it was for me to say goodbye. You know how much I came all over my fist at the thought of you. I felt like a pervert the amount of times I got hard at the thought of you. The amount of cum I wasted on my fist instead of being buried in your pussy.”

You cry out at his words but it seems he’s not done. With every thrust of his cock he is bringing you closer to the edge and you start to fuck back into him meeting him halfway and making a growl rumble deep in his chest.

“I’m going to cum so deep inside you today. You will be ruined for anyone else. You are mine. No one else just my little cum dump to use as I please.”

He sends a hard smack to your ass and you cry out his name as the pleasure in your stomach builds higher and high and the coil of pleasure gets tighter.

You cry out his name.

But he knows. Of course, he knows.

His hand comes to reach between your legs and with a couple of circles of your clit he has you cumming hard, your walls clamping around his cock as you cry out his name, tears falling at how good it feels as your orgasm crashes into you.

Namjoon is still fucking into you wildly but he can feel his own high approaching, his body is glistening with sweat making his gold marking glow as he grabs the base of his cock and tries his best to stave off his orgasm until he pulls out.

Namjoon pulls out with a harsh hiss, and after a couple of strokes to his heated length, he cums all over your back using his hand to milk himself dry as ropes of white cum land on your back and ass.

You wait until he’s done before slumping on the bed and taking several deep breaths. A dull ache forms between your legs as you lay there motionless and try to catch your breath.

Your body tingles in after orgasm bliss and you can’t help but flutter your eyes closed as he moves off the bed behind you.

You feel a warm cloth on your back as Namjoon wipes you down, he takes his time and is meticulous in his work and before you know it you are scooped up into his arms and carried to the small bathroom where a warm bath is running.

You are slowly lowered down in the bath and you hiss at the warm temperature but you feel your body instantly relax when you are submerged.

Namjoon leaves the room and when he returns he is dressed in simple black pants and a white shirt and he plops down on the floor next to the tub to keep you company.

“That was incredible” You breathe out unable to keep your head up and instead you decide to rest it on your arms as you stare at him.

“I agree.” He responds as his hand comes out to grab yours as his thumb rubs soothing circles on your skin.

“You are a liar though Joon.” You say softly as his eyebrows raise.

“You didn’t cum inside me like you said. Thought you wanted to make me yours?” You ask grinning at him.

Despite just having the best sex of his life his cock twitches in interest in his pants.

“It was a heat of the moment thing. If I did cum inside you and got you pregnant…we dragons usually don’t mix with humans but there are cases where they do. There’s just a lot we would have to go through first. If you were pregnant with my child. I’d be cast out. I’d lose my leadership, my dragons, my everything.” he admits as he brings your hand up to his lips to press a soft kiss.

He will admit the thought of carrying his child is making his cock a lot more interested in the conversation and he grumbles when he realizes he is fully hard again.

“What are the steps we have to take?” You ask staring up at him through full lashes.

“I’d have to court you for at least six months. Then we would have to go to the council and explain the situation. And only after their approval would we be able to continue. And because I’m a leader, it will take a lot longer.” He admits feeling suddenly saddened.

“Well I already admitted to being yours so I guess the rest of the steps don’t seem so bad.” You sigh sleepily as Namjoon’s head snaps up.

“You want to be with me? To have me court you?” He asks feeling his heart hammer in his chest.

“Of course! I walked into the woods and risked my life for you. I didn’t just do that for a fuck. Though that was amazing.” You say winking at him.

Namjoon’s heart flutters and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your temple as your eyes slowly close.

Namjoon lets you rest knowing despite his best efforts you will still be sore for days to come. He sits on the cold bathroom floor and reaches out through his mind to Seokjin.

Yes, Namjoon? Are we allowed to communicate with you now?

Namjoon rolls his eyes at the smugness in Seokjin’s voice and lets out a frustrated sigh when Hoseok joins in

Ah, you are done. About time. We were worried dusk would come before the two of you got your hands off each other.

Good thing her father’s a carpenter maybe he can make you a bed. I assume you destroyed this one?

Namjoon let out a warning growl but it didn’t stop the dragons in his head from chuckling

Okay nevermind this conversation is over

Hey! We didn’t mean it we were just teasing. Anyway, what do you need?

Namjoon eyes you snoozing peacefully in the tub, his hand dipped in the water to make sure it is still warm for you

Can you teach me how to cook?

The silence in his head makes him fidget before he hears a snicker

Do you want to burn the cabin down that bad?

Hoseok and his goddamn “humor”

Can you both be serious for once?

Ah Hoseok you know how our Joon is. If he’s asking for help it must be serious. Besides he can just burn it down with a fireball. Now tell me Namjoon are you courting the human?

Yes

The cheers in his head are loud as Seokjin and Hoseok whoop and holler in excitement

Okay okay enough. I’m still your leader you know

Oh, this is so exciting! Of course Namjoon we will teach you how to cook for her, maybe air out the cabin before we come over though it’s going to be hard to teach you how to cook with all the sex in the air.

Namjoon grumbles at Hoseok’s teasing but when he looks at you it makes a little teasing all worth it.

Tag List:

@kingofbodyrolls

[xoxoavenger]

Let It Snow

pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

summary: Y/N and Sam aren't very close, but having to share a cold room could change that.

word count: 3176

warnings: canon typical violence

I'm so sorry this is so late I am trying to get the last 12 days fic out today!!

12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist

Y/N isn't sure how she ended up with the Winchester brothers. She was a good hunter - a great hunter - but they had saved her from a hairy situation with a Rougarou. She felt stupid as soon as it happened, but it did happen and she couldn't go back in time and stop herself from stepping into the trap. Of course, the Winchester brothers had come to save the day.

Dean she didn't mind as much. She wasn't particularly fond of his 'save the damsel in distress' attitude, but once she got closer to them and realized it was clearly his coping mechanism for losing his mother so young, for feeling like he had no control, she could handle him a lot better.

Better than his little brother, Sam, who she wanted to punch at least once a day.

She lived in the bunker with the brothers, since it wasn't like she had a home to go back to and she had been with them when they got the keys. Dean had insisted there was plenty of space, but apparently Sam didn't like this plan. He had rolled his eyes, asked Dean to talk in a different room, but she had still heard the yells from down the hall where she was trying to block it out. She chose that room, the one at the very end of the hall as her own, and Sam had chosen the room Dean vacated after their fight as his. Complete opposite sides of the hallway, Y/N tries her hardest not to run into Sam. He clearly didn't want her here, so she doesn't eat dinner with him, she doesn't watch movies, research in the library, anything. She either takes one of the old cars and spends a couple days God knows where (giving Dean a heart attack every time by the way he blows up her phone) or she spends her time with the mountain of books in her room, taken and returned to the library when Sam's out on hunts.

Which is another problem that makes Dean want to rip out all his hair - the three of them can no longer even go on hunts together. It's always Dean and Sam or Dean and Y/N. And Dean loves to hunt, alright? It's in his blood. But between Sam and Y/N each finding cases, he's exhausted. He can't say he's surprised when he gets sick.

"Dean, I can't just let these people die." Sam says bitchily, and Dean wants to slap his brother. He would, if he wasn't shaking under the mountain of blankets he's piled on his bed.

"I told you to go with Y/N." Dean says. He wants to kill his brother for dragging out his thing with Y/N. She's a sweet girl, and she deserves better than Sam's emotionally inept abuse that he doesn't even realize he's giving.

"She hates me." Sam says with a sad face that rivals a puppy.

"Sam, I'm going to throw up on you right now if you tell another lie." Dean says, and he truly means it.

"Dean!" Sam screeches, moving out of range. "I'm being serious! She avoids me at all costs! She'll have meals with you and watch movies with you, but the second I walk into the room she suddenly has to leave? You tell me what that means."

"I am way too sick for this." Dean groans, because usually he's not the one who has to explain things to his brother like a toddler. "Have you ever thought that maybe she does that because the first day we were here you threw a tantrum about her staying with us?" He asks, head flaring in pain. He closes his eyes and turns, because he doesn't want to ever listen to his brother's voice again.

"But," Sam starts to say, and Dean actually has to tamp down the urge to scream as he pulls the covers his face.

"Sam, leave my room right now and go on this hunt with Y/N. And please, for the love of God, do not text me or come back to this bunker until you have talked through your shit." Dean's voice is deadly, and Sam knows he has to comply. He leaves with an annoyed 'get better soon' and goes to his own room, because he doesn't want to go to Y/N's room.

She's reading in her room, some sort of fiction that she's been waiting for free time to read. Sam knocks on her door, and she figures it's Dean, because Sam has never been in her room.

"Come in!" She calls, putting her book down and watching the tall ass man walk through the door.

"Hey," Sam says, and Y/N chokes down the urge to tell him to fuck off and leave. He looks so out of place, eyes flitting around her room because he can't look at her for some reason.

"What do you need?" She asks flatly, leaning back.

"There's a case in Minnesota." He explains, voice low. He still isn't looking at her.

"Minnesota in January? You've got to be out of your mind. Ask Dean." She goes to grab her book again, and Sam sighs.

"He's sick." Sam finally meets her eyes when she looks up, and they're both silent for a moment. "Please, I can't do this alone." He is practically begging, and he knows how pathetic it sounds.

"Fine." She agrees, taking a deep breath. "When do we leave?"

~

They realized that maybe they should have left this case to more local hunters the second the heating in the old car they had decided to take went out. Sam had gotten out and tried to fix it while Y/N stayed bundled in the car, wondering why she decided this would be a good idea when she doesn't like Sam and he doesn't like her and it's minus degrees and snowing. Even the coats she stole from Dean aren't doing much, so when they get to the hotel after a car ride of silence Y/N is ready for sleep. They had chosen a fancier hotel than they normally stay at, because they needed a room with heat.

"Two rooms, please." Sam says, and Y/N resists the urge to roll her eyes because of course he can't just share the room with her.

"We only have one available." The lady says, and Y/N suddenly thinks that maybe Sam wasn't being too overreactive. Just the thought of sharing a room with him makes her want to drive all the way back to Lebanon.

"What?" Y/N can't resist saying. "How do you only have a single room left?" She asks.

"There's a wedding here tomorrow, and half the town lost power. I'm surprised we have the one room left." She shrugs, and Y/N wants to yell at her. She knows there's no use, however, because this receptionist can't magically make another room available.

"That's fine. We'll take the room, thanks." Sam hands her the fake card Charlie programmed along with the matching fake ID, and then he's given the keys.

"You'll be on the fourth floor, room four twenty-eight." The receptionist tells them, and the two smile at her before walking to the elevator.

When they get to the room, immediately Y/N knows something is wrong. She pauses in the door, and Sam runs into her back and causes her to stumble.

"We need to go back down." She says. "This is wrong."

"Oh," Sam says as he looks over her shoulder. "But there are no more rooms left." He says it so simply, she wants to hit him.

"There's only one bed." She says, as if Sam can't see this himself. He squeezes past where she's still stuck in the doorway, and goes over to the thermostat.

"It's freezing." Sam changes the subject, because there's nothing they can do about their sleeping arrangements. They know it's too cold to go out and find a new hotel room, which may not even have room since the receptionist said that half the town didn't have power.

"Well, turn the heat up." She can't help but be bitchy, because the year she's spent on the other side of the bunker, avoiding him at all costs, has made her unable to even be in the same room as him.

"It's not working." He grunts, fiddling with it even while he understands the truth.

There's no heat in this room.

"We need to find another fucking hotel." Y/N mutters. She goes to grab her stuff, but Sam grabs her arm.

"The snow is coming down too hard. We don't even know where another hotel is, and we're going to freeze in that metal ice cube." He gently lets go over her arm, but she can feel the tingles from where his hand was.

"We're going to freeze here." She says, but she knows that even this cold room is better than the way the car felt.

"The water is probably warm." He tells her. She rolls her eyes.

"Great, so we can get wet and then freeze our asses off as soon as we're not under the water." She says, and he just blinks.

"If we run hot water, we can create steam and hopefully it'll give off some heat." He explains, and now she feels stupid.

"I'm gonna go downstairs to see if there's any extra blankets." She tells him.

And of course, there's only one.

"I'm so sorry." The lady says, like she genuinely cares that Y/N is going to have to share the bed with the man who hates her in a room that feels like it's below zero. "If anyone leaves, or as soon as someone checks out, I will call your room." She promises, but Y/N knows it's a lost cause. No one is leaving, at least not tonight. Y/N and Sam are stuck without power, and only one extra blanket.

When she gets back to the room, the shower is running, steam coming out from the open door. It isn't until she sees Sam's naked back that she realizes that they have to keep the door open to heat up the room.

She turns to the bed, feeling her cheeks heat.

"I'm back!" She calls, putting the extra blanket on the bed. It does feel slightly warmer with the steam, but she can't help but wonder how long it'll last.

"The water is nice and hot!" Sam calls out, and she can hear him getting out of the shower but not turning it off. She is grabbing her own stuff for the shower when Sam walks out, wearing only a towel around his waist. "I figured we should keep it going for a long as possible, since it's the only thing heating the room." He tells her, and she just nods as she looks at his eyes and his eyes only, ignoring everything else (like the tattoo on his toned chest, the water rolling down his abs where a trail of hair leads under the towel).

"Sounds good," She manages, then goes into the bathroom. It's then, as she turns toward the room, that she realizes they need the door open to let the heat out.

Sam is out of the eye line, so she quickly strips and gets in the shower. The glass is now fogged, so she can't see much of the room and he can't see in. Still, she showers quickly and gets out, not getting her hair wet so she doesn't have to deal with being in the cold room with wet hair. She towels off, then changes as quickly as she possibly can so that Sam can't see anything. But his back is turned the whole time, now with pants and a long sleeve on to sleep. She's glad she brought a hoodie (which may have been Dean's at one point) so she won't absolutely freeze.

"How long should we keep it running?" She asks, walking into the room and putting her old clothes back into her bag.

"I guess until it goes cold." Sam shrugs, and then it goes back to silence. She grabs her book, going to read in the bed before sleeping. When Sam, all six feet five fucking inches of burly man, gets in next to her, she wants to start crying. He takes up over half the bed, and she just knows how this is going to end.

It's going to be a long night.

~

"We woke up cuddling!" Y/N whispers into her phone while Sam talks to the victim's family. She had stayed in the car, deciding to research more since they hadn't been able to look at each other all morning, much less talk to each other.

"That doesn't surprise me." Dean tells her honestly, making her groan. "And not just because I already heard about this." Of course Sam told his brother about the cuddling incident.

"How am I supposed to go back tonight!" She cries, knowing she's being dramatic but also knowing there's nothing worse than Sam, who already hates her, not even being able to talk to her.

"I'm sure it was just cold. I mean, you slept fine, right?" Dean asks, and she can tell he's eating and talking with his mouth full.

"I slept like a fucking log, Dean. That's the problem! And your brother hates me, so I don't even know why he would cuddle me in the first place!" She tells Dean as she skims the book in her lap, not finding anything remotely related to their case.

"He doesn't hate you." Dean tells her, and she just shakes her head.

"I'll just have to take your word for it, since he avoids me like the plague." She mutters. She looks over and sees Sam walking out of the house, so she says her goodbyes and gets off the phone.

"I think we're dealing with some sort of spirit, not a demon. It seems to be haunting the barn, drawing people in." Sam informs her. They had known that the abandoned barn had been a part of the case, but they had thought it was a demon due to the nature of the killings.

"Like the spirit of George Hanover, the kid that was killed there during a hazing ritual in the eighties. We can go a library and see if the deaths match with the way he was killed, maybe interview people who knew him." Y/N suggests, and Sam nods.

The ride, of course, is quiet.

~

It's late at night and freezing cold when George finally shows his face in the barn. Y/N and Sam just needed whatever he was tied to, because they didn't want to burn down the entire barn. If it came to that, however, they were prepared.

What they were not prepared for was George to put up such a fight, and Y/N is thrown into a snowdrift headfirst. She doesn't move, but Sam doesn't have time to check on her. He has to dig through the dirt covered things in the corners of the barn while dodging attacks until he finally finds a jacket, which he hopes is George's. Once it's burned and the spirit is taken care of, Sam is instantly on his way to Y/N.

"Y/N!" He yells, digging through the snow that she was buried in. He finally gets her out, unconscious but breathing, face flush from the cold. He touches her face with his bare hand, and he knows she is way too cold.

He picks her up and carries her the short distance to the car, then puts it in gear and drives as fast as he can through the snow to get back to the hotel. He blasts the heat, but Y/N doesn't move the entire ride and her face doesn't return to its natural color.

"Come on," He says to no one, carrying her to the room and putting her on the bed. He takes off her shoes and jacket before putting her under the blankets, then grabbing a small towel and running it under warm water. He puts it on her forehead, then kneels at her side, unsure of what to do.

He waits five minutes, then takes the towel off and throws it to the ground. She still isn't awake, but her face seems less pale and her hand, which is in his, is less cold. He tells himself it's to keep her warm, make sure she's not cooling down, but he knows why he's holding her hand.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, not knowing why he has to confess. He just feels the need, even if it won't help, even if she won't hear it. "I'm sorry I made you think that I hate you. I don't, I could never. In fact, I care about you more than I should. It's why I try not to talk to you, try not to get your attention. I don't want to get attached, in case something happened. I didn't think I could stand it if you didn't feel the same, or if you did feel the same but something happened. But now, something has happened, and I've wasted all this time ignoring you. I've wasted months of our lives because I was scared, and now I'm more terrified than I have ever been and it's all my fault. If we were able to talk to each other, if I had been able to at least be nice, maybe I could have prevented this." He's crying, and he can't believe he just poured his heart out to this unconscious woman. He feels so stupid, but just as he takes his hand away her's squeezes his fingers. His head whips to her face, where her eyes are finally open.

"Nothing could have prevented that." She tells him, and he can't help himself from hugging her tight. She hugs back, and when he leans away he has to ask.

"How much did you hear?" He's not sure what he wants the answer to be, not sure if he's prepared for it.

"All of it." She tells him honestly. "Well, everything after you saying that I hate you, but I think that was all of it. Which is wrong, ya know. I don't hate you." She smiles, scooting over. The room is a little chilly as Sam toes off his shoes and takes off his coat, sliding into bed next to her.

"That's good to know." He says, trying not to freak out. She puts her head on his chest, letting his arms come around her the same way they were when the two of them woke up that morning.

"I care for you a lot too. Even though I thought you hated me." She says, and he squeezes her.

"Yeah, let's not do that." He says, kissing her on the forehead. She nods, feeling warm in his arms even in the cold hotel room. The snow outside has started to turn into a storm, but neither of them could be bothered to care, too wrapped up in each other.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @lyarr24

[youresodarkbabe]

you are the only ones who know (prof!a. turner x reader)

smut.

warnings: prof!al x reader, age gap, piv, al kinda dom, sad :(

word count: 679 (short n sweet)

hellooo i'm clearing out drafts / this one's inspired by @goblinontour and stems from convos i've had with @aacheinthejaw / can be considered as a slight continuation of my previous prof!al fic, heavy time skip though

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

three and a half glorious months in complete and total secluded secret. only you and alex knew, and that was your paradise. you guarded that treasure with your mind and soul. you both knew it was taboo, but neither of you could deny that it added to the thrill. from the first day you stepped into his lecture hall, his eyes were on you and you alone. long gone were the women he had been interested in before. it was only you now. forever you.

the way your voice rang out when you called for him. "professor?" you'd ask in the sweetest voice. sugar wishes it was as sweet as you, he'd often think.

your voice stayed just as sweet through these three and a half months.

"alex?"

beads of sweat framed your forehead like a crown. you looked like a princess to him in that moment. if he could forever immortalize the both of you in that moment, he would. he rolls his hips up into yours ever so slightly, pressing a kiss as soft as a feather to your collarbone.

"yeah?"

"is something wrong? did i do something?"

he lifts his head from the nook of your shoulder and looks up into your eyes.

"you could never, even if you tried."

"then what's the matter?"

"just keep goin' for me, yeah? there's absolutely nothing wrong, baby."

just as you were about to object and implore him to share his inner thoughts, he silenced you by slipping his thumb into your mouth. instinctively, your tongue swirls around it, sucking and biting until he pulls it away with a soft pop. before you can even gather the thoughts flowing around your head, his thumb flicks at your clit at a tender pace as your bounces grow faster. he knew you so well.

too well.

he knew you better than he should. and that dug at him, twisted at his innermost soul like a knife.

"al, al, alex, please.." you begged, clutching at his hand. your nails dug into his skin, making him wince. he finally stopped.

"what?"

"i can tell something's wrong." you kiss his collarbone, specifically, you kiss the mark that you left a week ago that seemed like it simply didn't want to leave. "tell me," you kiss higher and higher, along his neck and up to his chin.

"please?" you mutter, so close that your lips brushed his.

he hated making you feel like you did something wrong. he hated himself for it.

the first time he had made you feel this way, well, he could recall it like it happened seconds ago.

you had turned in a paper, a perfectly good one, only a day later than it was expected. and why? you were busy with him. fucking had never felt that blissful before. you arrived at alex's at 3:15 for lunch, cheerful and content, and you left at 7:45 the next day, even happier. however, when he next saw you, it was like everything had changed.

later that day, you wept to him at his flat. your cruel professor had been so harsh, and alex felt so bad. he knew that you thought it was your fault, when he knew it was his.

he began to resent himself, thinking he was ruining your life. he thought he could bury these emotions by spending time with you, but with every passing second in your company, he reached a conclusion.

alex, a man that had lived his youth thoroughly, was completely stealing yours.

he tipped his head back, resting on the headboard. he let out a deep breath, blinking his tears away.

"nothing's wrong, baby," he said with a smile, "don't worry at all."

you stared into his eyes for a quick second, before smiling yourself too.

alex's smile faltered. he knew you so well, so much better than you knew him.

you had ages to figure him out, though. if you stuck around. if you didn't leave him for someone younger, smarter, better.

and with that idea firm in his mind, he spiraled again.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

will see you guys in four months then ig

[agent-yolk-writes]

A Nightmare in Devildom (Obey Me/Nightmare on Elm Street concept fic)

Basically what it says on the tin. A "what if MC was a survivor of freddy kreuger's torment before the events of OM" concept fic.

This is was of those weird ideas I came with this during the early covid lockdown period where my insomnia got really bad to the point where I was borderline delirious. I meant to get this out during October for spooky season vibes but after three Octobers came and went and Obey Me isn't getting any more updates, I figure I throw it into the pit before that happens. No beta we die like obey me as a franchise, I guess!

If this inspires you to write something similar, please let me know! If you want me to write more...please reconsider!

And, of course, happy holidays!

AO3 Mirror Link

Good lord, I look terrible. You thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror. When was the last time I got some rest?

Other than looking more visibly tired, you look...older. It was the face of a nurse finally coming home after back-to-back double shifts. The bags under your eyes could only get so dark, but thankfully you knew a demon who had so much concealer and foundation lying around that he wouldn’t know if a few went missing. 

You knew you shouldn’t be continuing this habit, but you can’t help it. Despite living in a mansion with the most powerful demons in Literal Hell(!!) in the past few weeks your brain is still not convinced that you’re safe from Him . Would he still have the balls to terrorize you still? Does he even know where you are? Surely he’ll just know when you disappeared without a trace, but you can’t afford to find out for yourself. 

As much as you wanted to tell the brothers, you didn’t want to drag them into this mess. After all, this problem only started just weeks before you were brought here. It came without warning, and suddenly it turned into a bloodied hurricane. To think He was the one that killed your friends and classmates back in the human world…you regretted not being able to do more for them until you were in His sights.

This opportunity with the exchange program was either a saving grace or a divine intervention, and you’re not going to let that chance slip away from you. You have the whole year to work on magic and potions and anything else that could possibly drive Him away if not kill him for good, and you highly doubt he’s going to forget about you. Knowing how to do magic is one thing, but putting it to memory is another. This wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t so damn tired. You’re trying so hard to pay attention in class, but you just end up more focused on trying to keep your eyes open lest you allow Him to strike at your most vulnerable. 

However, there is one possible solution. The only problem is that you needed to form a pact with his other brothers before he could even consider helping you, that slothful bastard. Belphegor knows how tired you are and how you would do anything for a safe and peaceful rest. There was no point hiding it from him as you were with the others. Oh, how you envied the way he could sleep the day away in his little prison cell…you could just punch him if only you had the strength.

…

You really didn’t feel good about the multi-layered lie you found yourself webbed into to get the pacts in the first place. You recently got Beelzebub’s pact, putting you at the halfway mark. He looked so happy about your ‘plan’ to impress Lucifer enough to have him make up with Belphegor that it made your stomach churn in shame. Is it really okay for you to do this? Wouldn’t it be easier to tell the truth? Out of all the brothers, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for lying to Beel.

But what if Lucifer points his finger at Belphegor if you bring it up before you’re able to finish explaining? Would it destroy all the progress you made? Would you make things worse ? If they draw parallels that your deprivation is somehow related to the seventh-born’s sleep-related powers…only Lucifer would have an answer different from the other five. That’s why you have to keep up this facade for as long as you can. That’s why you need to stay awake. To find a way to protect yourself as well as the others. 

Your new friends at Purgatory Hall, bless their hearts, were none the wiser. Considering two of them were actual angels, you would’ve expected at least Luke to confront you with tears in his eyes about your health at least a month in. He makes a big talk about how you should never trust ‘those demons’ before having lunch with Beelzebub. Sometimes you think Solomon is giving you weird looks whenever you make eye contact with him. It’s probably the sleep-deprived paranoia, but you hope it’s nothing. You’ve been getting away with it for this long, so what? 

Tomorrow you have to stay over at Diavolo’s castle as part of an exchange party sleepaway camp or something. If you’re lucky, you can have a room for yourself. You don’t pack your go-to methods for staying awake until right before everyone heads out.

~

The steaming heat of the boiler room did not warm the chill in your bones one bit. 

You should know the inner workings of this hellscape by now. It was His favorite hunting ground, after all. However, something seems different this time. Everything felt…a bit shifted to the right, in a way. On top of that, there’s no sight or sound of Him anywhere. No taunting catchphrases, no spooky teleports he’s fond of doing, not even the shilling sound of his claw on metal when he’s close. This is probably his new trick, you think. Lulling you into a false sense of security before-

You turned around, involuntary flinching as you braced yourself to be hit. Only to process seconds later that nothing’s coming. In fact, there was no sign of life behind you in the first place. Damn it, he really was playing with you at this point. As soon as you let out a sigh of relief, you heard someone screaming from the other side of the room. You couldn’t tell who they were, but that’s not going to stop you. You ran towards the sound before you let the dread wash over you. 

“I’m coming!” You yelled at them. “Wake up! He can’t hurt you if you’re awake!” You were so focused on tilting your head up to project your voice to the other person that you didn’t realize you hit a dead end until you ran into a wall of pipes. “Oh, god damn it!” You cursed, pivoting on your foot to turn around and run even faster. 

What happened next happened too fast. You didn’t know where you were going. Everything is starting to blur together. A pipe managed to burst the same second you turned your head to follow the noise, immediately blinding your vision with steam and a “Shit!” jumping out of your mouth. The suddenness of it all made you lose your momentum and you feel yourself stumbling forward. You didn’t have time to brace yourself for the sharp object that’s going right through your- 

You wake with an audible gasp, hands going up to your throat. The sound of your racing heart and your uneven breathing replace the sounds of pipes and steam. You looked around in the darkness and could barely see two bodies sleeping in their respective beds. Ah, that’s right. This is the first night of Diavolo’s retreat, and you find yourself paired to a room with Asmodeus and Simeon. In an attempt to pretend you’re asleep ended up having you fall asleep for real. You couldn’t help but think how pathetic you were for letting your guard down for one second and falling into His hands again after so long all because you were waiting for someone to finish their 20-step overnight skin routine.

With a shuddered sigh, you carefully slipped out of your bed and into the hallway in hopes you could clear your thoughts without disturbing your roommates. 

Thanks to the occasional jittering of a Little D doing their nightly duties, the halls of a demon lord’s castle don’t feel as haunted as you would think. The lights were dimmed but not out completely, which gave way for the moon to shine in as its own source of light. Had you been carrying a candle in a brass holder you would’ve thought you stumbled into one of those old gothic novels. You didn’t have a real destination in mind, but you made sure you remembered which room you were assigned to just in case. 

At some point during the night, you ended up in one of the lounge rooms, curled up on a couch facing the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, and looked up at all the stars. It has always been a comfort for you. You even began reading about them in an attempt to stay awake back in the human world. You thought you could recognize some of the constellations, but there are always a few stars here and there that turn it into an unrecognizable shape. At least you have new material to read about when you’re back in your room at the House of Lamentation. 

The soft calling of your name from the door broke your serene silence followed by a, “Is that you?”

A small gasp managed to escape your throat before you were able to put your hands over your mouth. You curled into yourself at first so whoever it was can’t see your head poking out from the back. After a few seconds, it finally clicked as to who it was.

Sheepishly, you stick your head out. “Hi, Barbatos.” You said, voice croaking in unexpected use. Even though it was dark and his figure obscured, you could make out that he was holding some kind of tray. “Am I not supposed to be here? I’m sorry. I’ll go back and…”

“It’s fine.” He assured you. “I heard someone walking around, so I’ve taken the liberty to brew some chamomile tea for them should they feel restless. Would you like some?”

“...”

Tea does sound nice, but the fact that it was chamomile made you hesitate. At the same time, Barbatos just made it, so it would be rude to let it go to waste.

“...That would be nice. Thank you.”

He made his way over to the other side of the couch. Part of you wanted to sit up and be proper when drinking, but even thinking about adjusting your posture makes you tired. Still, you make an effort to reach over to take the tea cup from the butler’s hands. Barbatos took this opportunity to start talking. 

“This is your first time spending the night at a castle, I presume?” You made an affirmative noise as you sipped, not wanting to point out that it’s not just any castle you’re sleeping at. “I reckon slipping in a new bed right as you got settled in would put anyone’s nerves on edge.”

You put your cup down as you replied, “I guess you can say that.” 

He looks at you quizzically. “Is something amiss? I’ll inform the Young Master right away.”

“It’s…It’s fine, Barbatos. Thanks for worrying.” You took another sip before letting out a sigh. “I’ve always had trouble sleeping, you can say. I get…these really bad nightmares that make me stay up for days on end. They were so terrifying and real…I kept wondering if I was losing my mind. I’ve tried every remedy in the book to stop them but…” You stopped to let a yawn out. “Sorry…As I was saying, I tried everything the doctors thought could help me. They even brought in a priest thinking it was ‘dream demons’ or something.” You paused, replaying the last thing you said. “Are dream demons even a thing here?”

“They are a form of lesser demons, yes.” The butler answered. “They’re relatively harmless as individual beings, but can pose a threat in large numbers or if they get close to a human.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” You told him bitterly. 

“If it brings you any comfort, just know that they’re not powerful enough to be able to enter the human world on their own. Only certain powerful demons have the authority to travel to that realm directly. Such as the Young Master and Lucifer, for example.”

You couldn’t help but huff out air through your nose in relief. Suck on that, Pastor John. 

“...So yeah. Just before I was summoned here, they put me on a clinical trial for a medication that…reduces? Suppress? It, like, stops giving me dreams entirely, and they work. Forgot the name though. And I coincidentally ran out just before I was transferred here so…yeah.” Your eyes looked over to the butler. “Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier, I guess. I keep getting roped into whatever the brothers get themselves into that I never really had time to check on myself.”

Barbatos didn’t respond immediately. You were too busy concentrating on balancing the tea on your stomach to spare a glance over to your nighttime companion to see what kind of face he was making. Would he make one? Shouldn’t he have known of this malady when your file was being processed? Maybe, because of their biology, demons don’t worry about these kinds of conditions. You mulled around internally in a tired haze before realizing that your eyes were slowly creeping shut. With a soft sigh, you moved the plate to the nearest table and stood up slowly.

“Anyways, thanks for the tea. Compliments to the chef.” You couldn’t help but let out a big stretch followed by an even bigger yawn. “I’ll head back to bed now. No guarantee I’ll sleep though.” You let out a huff that was supposed to be your attempt at a dry laugh. “You should get some rest too. Big day ahead, y’know? See you in the morning.” And with that, you exited the room and into the dim hallway.

The small smile Barbatos had dropped as soon as your back was turned to him. It was no secret that your time as a transfer student was being hindered by your lack of sleep. Even your recent medical file was perplexing in figuring out the cause of this disorder. It’s not genetic nor was it caused by a major traumatic event. Perhaps it’s something else? You did mention dream demons, after all, albeit it was more of a speculative idea that was brought up by your doctors in order to get a man of the cloth involved. It definitely couldn’t be Belphegor’s meddling, he thinks. He wouldn’t know about the human’s arrival.

It looks like he’ll have to do some digging after this exchange party concludes. He might need to start gathering evidence now while the human is still here. Diavolo will need to get involved, there’s no doubt about that. He would do anything to ensure the health and safety of the exchange students, after all. 

~

When everyone converged for a tour around the castle, some had noted that you looked less sluggish than usual. You simply waved them off, making up an excuse about the mattress not being up to human standards. Hopefully, you didn’t offend the demon prince when you said that. 

Still, you can’t deny that you feel a little well-rested. You did remember trying a method where you close your eyes for 15 minutes, wake up for another 15, close your eyes again, rinse and repeat. You usually had an alarm for this technique, but you didn’t want to disturb Simeon or Asmodeus as much as you already did slipping in and out of bed. You didn’t think you were able to keep track, but you did somehow, give or take a few minutes. Now you can actually pay attention to that cute little demon acting as the tour guide, explaining the intricate history of all the subjects painted on these beautifully crafted portraits. You couldn’t help but smile seeing Diavolo puffing his chest in pride when the Little D started talking about his father, the current Demon King. 

(But when it was mentioned that he's been sleeping at the bottom of Devildom for millennia you couldn't help but feel jealous. The most powerful being of all the realms is casually sleeping the decades away while you don’t even get the privilege of an hour of uninterrupted rest.)

You looked at the other paintings decorating the hall. Some plaques are written in what you can only presume is some kind of archaic language that only demons would know. If you could understand at least a part of it, then maybe you can get a deeper understanding of these pictures. 

A gentle call of your name and a not-so-gentle clap on your back broke your weak concentration. You tore your eyes away to meet Diavolo’s gentle gaze. “I see that her beauty managed to draw you in?” 

You blinked, trying to process what he said. “I-I’m sorry, whose beauty? I was…too focused on figuring out what the plaque said.” You managed to blurt out, causing the prince to chuckle.

“Oh, that? It simply reads ‘The Queen of Devildom’. In other words, that’s my mother.” His gaze turned to the painting, but you stayed fixated on him. He continued by adding, “This painting and some vague memories are all I have of her. She passed away several centuries ago when I was still an infant. My father would always talk about how…” And he continued to drone on from there. It wasn’t his fault, and you were genuinely trying to cling on to every word he’s saying because it’s important to him and you wanted to leave a good impression. On the other hand, the bleariness in your eyes started to cloud your vision again as a result of your lack of sleep. So you avert your gaze back to the painting unintentionally so you can wipe it away, biting your tongue to restrain the yawn that comes with it. Part of you hopes that Diavolo thinks that you’re speechless and moved to tears.

That thought quickly vanished when you opened your eyes to the painting. 

There was a choking noise, and you almost didn’t realize it came from you. It felt like the world around you completely disappeared, and only you and Him were the only inhabitants. 

Devildom seemed to freeze over the moment you made direct eye contact with the painted eyes of your tormentor. His scarred face did nothing to hide that cocky smirk he loves to wear. He’s holding up his bloodied claw to you in a way that couldn’t be anything else but a taunting gesture, as if he knows what he’s doing to you. His other hand wrapped around the back of a bloodied woman. By the way, the painting is framed, you assumed she was supposed to be sitting. Unfortunately, you know that’s not the case here. Her head dipped back, obscuring her face from you. You assumed she was originally wearing either a white or a similar light-colored dress, but that didn’t matter as it was dyed by the blood seeping out of that four-lined wound in her chest that you knew all too well. Just the sight alone made you reach for your hip where an old wound dimly throbs at the clothed contact. 

You didn’t dare move your gaze. You needed to keep an eye on him. 

“Hey…!”

You knew it. This opportunity to fly off his radar and find a way to kill him for good while he’s not looking was too good to be true.

“...!”

How did he even get here? Did he follow you down when you got summoned? What will he-

“...!!”

Time seemed to resume the second someone grabbed onto your shoulders and turned you around. You wanted-no, needed to keep an eye on him. Sadly, you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. Instead, you were forced to look at Diavolo's worried eyes. You didn’t even let him get a word in before you began panicking. 

“What have you done?!” You yelled. You pointed to the painting behind you. “Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you!”

“Protect us from…who?”

“Him!” You pointed to the portrait.

Only the painted eyes of a woman stare back at you.

It was too late for you now. The moment you allow yourself even to think you’re away from his control, you end right back into his hands. 

Nowhere is safe, not even in hell.

A maniacal laugh fills your ears as everyone crowds around your panicked state.

[norrisainz33]

home for the holidays || ls18

☆ summary: lance and his partner start a new chapter now that the season is over and take their relationship to the next level

☆ pairing: lance stroll x nonfamous!reader

☆ fc & warnings: none

☆ requested: nope! just a short one bc i don’t see enough lance fics so wanted to write one!!

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has made a post

liked by lance_stroll, landonorris, carmenmundt, yourbff, fernandoalo_official and 128,134 others

ynuser: and just like that - the 2024 season has come to an end. this was a tough one but no matter what i am proud of the team and proud of lance. see all you beautiful people again in march 🤍

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astonmartinf1: see you soon y/n/n! we love you ❤️

ynuser: 🤍 you more admin

user1: you are so real for posting the vegas pics of lance

lance_stroll: i love you 😘

ynuser: and i love you 🥹

user4: mama y papa

user2: i’m going to miss this silly season and seeing you practically every weekend smh

francisca.cgomes: see you sooner than march please😭

ynuser: you know i can’t go more than a couple weeks without you 😔

user44: can lance fight?

scottyjames1: no

user44: SCREMING

ynuser has posted to their story

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user1: most canadian thing i’ve ever seen

lance_stroll: missed this and missed you darling

ynuser: i missed you more lance. i’m overjoyed to be back 🤍

yourbff: i’m so glad you and lancey are finally home

ynuser: me too! this season was a long one 😩

yourbff: you both are stronger than i

ynuser: i’m not sure how we made it honestly! but it’s time for new beginnings and rest 🫶🏻

user2: time for some much deserved relaxation

user6: just saw the f1 secret santa and can’t stop thinking about how good of gift giver lance is and how he probably got you the best gifts ever

fernandoalo_official: happy holidays mi amiga

ynuser: gracias nando! i hope you have the best break with all of those you love most 🤍

user3: i hope you have the best break y/n

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yourbff: i can’t wait to visit you in your new home!!!

ynuser: i can’t wait for you to visit!! one of the spare bedrooms has your name on it bestie

user11: ahhh congrats y/n!!!

carmenmundt: congrats on your and lances new home!! looking forward to visiting 😘

ynuser: thank you carmen! i miss you sm already. please come visit soon 🤍

user14: so so happy for you and lance. end game fr

lance_stroll: remind me why i thought moving right after the season ended was a good idea

ynuser: you said, and i quote, “i want to be home for the holidays and host all the people i love in our home.”

lance_stroll: well when you put it like that….

cholestroll: yayyayayay!!!!! can’t wait to see it in a few days

ynuser: can’t wait to see you and scotty and the lovely little bug soon. it’s been too long

astonmartinf1: cheers to new beginnings ✨

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chloestroll: the tree is so cuteeeeee oh i love it

lance_stroll: it is ! y/n is very excited for the holidays

chloestroll: as she should be!! do you have everything set?

lance_stroll: everything should be set up according to plan! im beyond nervous though

chloestroll: don’t be!! it’s going to alllll be ok

user3: y/n is so cute

scottyjames31: glad she’s getting you into the holiday spirit

lance_stroll: between y/n and chloe there’s more than enough holiday spirit! we’ve got hanukah and christmas covered over here

user4: pookie christmas lets goooo

ynuser: i am having the most fun decorating our new house 🫶🏻

lance_stroll: me too my love. building this life with you is everything i could ask for and more ❤️

user5: i’m glad you’re getting the time to relax lancey. you deserve it after this season

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user2: holy crap this is beautiful?????? and she managed this right after you two moved in???? get this girl an award

fernandoalo_official: looks beautiful! can’t wait to hear about how your evening goes

lance_stroll: you’ll be one of the first to know ❤️

user6: this called me broke in about 800 different languages

pierregasly: WOW! can i hire y/n to decorate my house?

lance_stroll: for a hefty price 😉

user9: you better marry this girl i s2g

ynuser: thank you 🥹 🤍😘🎄

lance_stroll: no thank YOU gorgeous! i am so thankful to have you help me host the holidays ❤️

ynuser: 😭 i love being a part of your family lance

lance_stroll: we all love you so very much ❤️

ynuser: you’re going to make me cry 🥹

chloestroll: eeeeek!!!!!! today is THE day 🤍🤍🤍🤍

lance_stroll: she doesn’t suspect a thing 😍

user12: her outfit is everything ??? literal angel

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ynuser: tonight may have been the best night of my life. wishing you the happiest of holidays from the future mr and mrs stroll ❤️

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user18: this is so important to me you have no idea

chloestroll: welcome to the family sis 😘

ynuser: sis 😭 oh i love you chloe

georgerussell63: 🥹 congrats! you two make the perfect couple

ynuser: thank you georgie ❤️

fernandoalo_official: felicidades mis amigos

ynuser: gracias por todo nando 🫶🏻

user32: my mom and dad are getting married im overjoyed

lance_stroll: i can’t wait to make you my wife

ynuser: and i can’t wait for you to be my husband 😘

user23: you look so good in white

astonmartinf1: best news we’ve seen all day

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a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated.

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