#and there are for sure some really good ones but NOT ENOUGH.

[flemingology]

mistletoe ─ alexia putellas x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: you try to drop hints to alexia through your christmas decoration

warnings: oblivious alexia deserves a warning on its own

wc: 6.5k

a/n: merry christmas eve to all of you, i loved writing this. i'm glad you all finally get to read this. i hope you enjoy this and i hope you enjoy your evening, if you're celebrating. <3

You and Alexia had met a couple years ago at the driving range which you worked at. The Spaniard, accompanied with some of her Barcelona teammates, had picked out your work place as their team bonding haven for the afternoon. You had taken a gap year between your bachelors and masters, spending 12 months in Spain with your aunt, in her apartment in the Barcelona city centre. You'd picked up a side job at the driving range which kept you busy throughout the year, but left you more than enough time to soak in the Spanish sun and to explore the rowdy streets of Barcelona.

You and her hit it off immediately, cracking jokes off of each other any time you had the chance. She liked how you didn't seem to treat her as Alexia Putellas – the footballer, but just as Alexia. Human Alexia. Not the one that everyone seemed to want a signature from, or a picture with, but just the one in her day-to-day life. The persona that she didn't get to be most of the times when she was out and about, so it was a welcome change for her.

By the end of their time at the driving range, Alexia had had to endure endless teasing and torturing from her friends about her connection with you. The midfielder hadn't had a romantic interest in a good while, forever claiming she was too busy, but she knew damn well that was a little white lie to cover up for the fact that – despite the attention she faced every single day – she was just really, really shy. So when her friends realized that Alexia was hitting it off with one of the workers from the range, they were adamant that she tried to get your number.

While you were closing up, putting the last sets of chairs on tables and making sure all lights were off and doors were locked, you were suddenly startled by a tap on your shoulder. You couldn't conceal the squeal that escaped your lips, but were quickly comforted once you turned around and saw the face that you'd been thinking about all afternoon.

Alexia's advances had definitely gotten to you throughout the afternoon. You remained professional, but you found yourself gravitating towards their lane every time you had a free moment. You spent most of your time mingling with Alexia and her friends, talking about everything and nothing. It was safe to say that a little flirting had occurred, but you knew who Alexia was and you wouldn't have put it past her for that to be something she did on a daily. You assumed that the Ballon d'Or-winning midfielder could have about anyone she wanted, so you quickly wiped the thought away of her being into you of all people.

"Oh, Alexia, it's you," you chuckled, holding your hand over your chest where your heart would be. "Lo siento, I didn't mean to scare you," Alexia said, her Spanish accent seeping through whenever she spoke English. "Don't worry. Everything okay? Was everything to your guys liking?" She gave you a curt nod, and moved her weight from one leg to the other. She seemed a little restless, but you couldn't put your finger on the emotions that were etched on her face.

Alexia opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, trying to come up with the right thing to say. You were just about to make a joke, when she reached into the crossbody bag she was carrying and pulled out a piece of paper. "Do you have a... uhm," she frowned, looking around. "How you say... una birome?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, amused at how restless the otherwise so composed footballer seemed. Despite your efforts, though, you couldn't help Alexia with her translation. You'd picked up a couple classes here and there, and your Spanish had gotten a lot better ever since you started your year out here, but your knowledge of the language still left a lot to be desired.

"Una biroma?" you replied, cocking your eyebrow at her. "No, birome. E, not a," Alexia frowned and seemed to have forgotten about what she actually needed, busying herself with explaining the pronunciation of the word. "Alexia, what do you need?" you interrupted her before she could get lost in her words, both wanting her to tell you what she wanted, but you were also running late to dinner with your aunt. You needed to lock up the range and drive home quick if you wanted to beat the evening traffic, but Alexia was giving you a hard time at doing so.

"Something to write, uh..." "A pen?" "Sí, a pen!"

A breathy laugh escaped your lips as Alexia's face lit up. You reached into your back pocket and pulled out the pen you used to write down people's drink orders during the day. "Here. This should do, why do you need it?"

Alexia snatched the pen from your hands and scribbled something down on the piece of paper she'd taken from her bag. Before you could grasp what was happening, she was done and pushed both the paper and the pen back in your hands, before rushing off towards the parking lot. You could just about clamp onto both before they fell down, calling after Alexia, but to no avail. She'd already turned the corner outside and she was out of sight. You shook your head and frowned, wondering what could've startled her all of a sudden. You opened up the crumpled piece of paper and noticed she'd written down her number, a couple scratched out numbers and it was written all wonky. She had clearly been nervous about giving you her number, but you still didn't feel like it warranted her just running out on you like that.

You couldn't help the warm feeling that nestled itself into your stomach at the fact you had seemed to make Alexia Putellas nervous. The Alexia Putellas, 3-time UWCL winner, 2-time Ballon d'Or winner, had gotten so incredibly nervous around you that she sprinted away when she gave you her number.

What you didn't know, whilst you were locking up, is that Alexia was receiving an unimaginable amount of stick at how she handled the situation, but her friends were silently proud of her nonetheless for at least attempting at putting herself out there. They know she struggled with it and for her to make this first step, despite all the pushing by her friends, it was a big leap.

Later that night, when you arrived back home from dinner with your aunt, you decided that would be a good time to message Alexia. You didn't feel like it was appropriate to text her right away, deciding to let some tension build up between the both of you before you allowed her the reprieve of knowing you liked her back.

You texted a little back and forth that same evening, and before you knew it had you a date set in your calendar. You'd agreed on going for coffee the day after, and the rest was history.

But what first seemed like happily ever after, was going to be nothing like it. Not in the slightest. Your first date with Alexia was amazing. The energy you shared at the driving range carried over to the café, the both of you sharing a couple hours talking about everything and nothing with each other. You talked about her career, her youth, her path up to where she was right now, and you talked about your studies, your home back in England and your experiences in Barcelona. You thought the two of you shared a real connection, but you couldn't shake the tinge of disappointment you felt when you didn't end the date with a kiss.

Nonetheless, a second date came, and the two of you still hit it off. You conversed like you'd known each other for years, never a moment of silence when you were together. It felt right with Alexia, you felt comfortable and you could tell she felt the same. And even if you couldn't sense it, you knew because she told you. She opened up about how she felt like she could be herself around you, a welcome change from her usual day-to-day life where she felt like she had to perform and be the version of herself 24/7, day in day out. Your heart had warmed at her words, and you couldn't help but hope that this time, your date would end with a kiss. But nothing was less true.

Weeks went on, date after date happened, you had both been to each other's apartments, but that base hadn't been covered yet. Despite your – sometimes not so subtle – hints, you started falling into a pattern of just casual friendship. It felt like, every week, the mountain was becoming higher to climb. The tension was palpable between the two of you and you knew the Spaniard could feel it too. She'd been more careful around you, a little less expressive and a little less touchy. You don't know who initiated what, but you knew something had changed in the air.

Before long, you started having doubts about the whole ordeal. You knew that, going into this, you were dating a professional footballer. You knew how their schedules got, how busy they were, especially someone like Alexia. Their time at football didn't just stop at practices and games, it was meetings, shoots, media events and so on. Alexia had weaved around her appointments to be able to see you regularly, but it had started to feel like she was slipping away a little.

-

Christmas was around the corner, your favorite time of year. Work had died down tremendously, understandable seen the ranges were outside. No one was interested in freezing their asses off playing some golf around this time of year. But from time to time, you had some customers that came in for a drink. You had gotten through most of your workday on Monday afternoon, when suddenly your phone chimed with a message.

From: Ale ⭐️ Hola, chica. Are you at work? I'm passing by soon. Wanna say hi. :)

You smiled at your phone, the message perfectly encapsulating what had drawn you in about Alexia. She was so sincere, she made you feel like you were genuinely important. She went out of her way to see you, even if it was just for an hour, she would move her shoot and shorten her time for the media just so she could grab a coffee with you. That's why the lack of romantic connection between the both of you confused you. There were a handful of times where you felt like you were going to take the first step, but you didn't want to push her into something that you weren't sure whether she wanted. She had opened up to you about how hard she found it to manage a relationship with her career, so the last thing you wanted to do was force one onto her. That's the reason why you decided to let her come to you, but months had passed now and nothing happened. The two of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm of seeing each other weekly, catching up over a coffee or a film in either's apartment, but the midfielder seemed content with the situation you found yourself in right now, and it had started frustrating you to no end.

On one side, you assumed that it would be better to cut contact. You had to admit it, you were falling for Alexia and if you wanted to make sure you didn't get too hurt from the fall, you had to put yourself first and make an end to it. But you couldn't. Not when her strong arms engulfed you in a hug when she hadn't seen you for a week, not when you came home to your plushies meticulously arranged on top of your made bed as a thank you for letting her stay over the night before, and especially not when her lips softly kissed your cheek every time she wished you goodbye, eye contact lingering a little longer than you should, forever wishing she was kissing your lips goodnight instead of your cheeks goodbye.

You quickly rid yourself of your thoughts and sent Alexia a reply, not wanting to keep her waiting too long.

To: Ale ⭐️ Yeah, I'm at the range.

You didn't intend to be curt, but you had gotten worked up about the situation in your head and didn't feel like being overly nice to her right now. You finished up a bit of work and managed to answer a couple emails before Alexia's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pressing a kiss against the side of your head as you turned around and got up from your chair, meeting her embrace with one of your own.

"Hola," Alexia mumbled against the side of your face, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go of your body and placing her hands back in the front pocket of her hoodie. You took a moment to take her in. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was trying it's best to keep all her hair at bay, but a couple baby hairs managed to escape anyway. They stood up proudly on top of her head, almost mocking the rest of her hair that was tightly tucked away. She was dressed in a Barca hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants, keeping her safe from the cold wind outside that mercilessly nipped at every bit of skin it could find. Her face was covered in a thin layer of sweat, remnants of the run she was on before she stopped here. She looked adorable, really, and you could just about press down the urge to surge forward once again and hide your face in her neck.

"Hey you," you smiled, locking eyes with her. "Good run?" Alexia nodded, still trying to catch her breath, the difference in temperature making it harder to regain her composure, your work place a lot warmer than the outside. "Yeah, it felt good. Had training earlier but I felt like a run, so I was happy that my legs were working with me."

You chuckled, no longer surprised at Alexia's incredible work rate. She'd worked hard to be where she was, and there was no way that she wasn't going to keep her spot cemented up there with the big names in football. So with that thought in the back of her mind, she kept working hard every single day, even though she had proved herself and others time and time again that she was the best.

You tried to match Alexia's excited energy, but there was something inside you that didn't allow you to be as expressive with the midfielder as you usually were. Whether it was the thoughts you were having about your situation before she walked in, or something else, you couldn't quite pinpoint, but there was a tension building between the two of you and it didn't feel nice.

"That's nice, Ale," you sat back down on your chair and absentmindedly started doing a bit more of your work, not thinking much of it. You and Alexia had co-existed a lot of times in her apartment, you doing some work for school and her rewatching her games, but this time the Spaniard wasn't having it. "Oi!", you exclaimed, as you felt Alexia flick your ear. "What was that for?" you questioned, cocking an eyebrow at her as you turned your chair back over to her, her face sporting a crooked grin.

"Am I not interesting enough for your attention?" she said, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but you could sense the hint of disappointment in her voice. You cursed yourself internally for making Alexia think like that of herself. "No, Ale, I just need to get through some of this work here. I have a lot of emails to catch up with and seen as the range is quiet today, I was making good work of them," you tried to reason. "If you didn't want me to stop by, you could've said," Alexia quipped back, insecurity seeping through her voice. "No, no. It's not that," you said quickly, standing back up and grabbing one of her hands from her front pocket in yours. Alexia intertwined your fingers and you had to take a deep breath to compose yourself and to not get lost in the small display of affection the midfielder was showing you.

You meticulously picked out your next words, not wanting Alexia to feel like she's too much in this space right now. "I don't want you to feel like I don't want to see you, because I always do. You know that," you squeezed Alexia's hand and looked into her eyes, searching them for any sign of discomfort. "I was just a little busy. I'm sorry. I should've said."

Alexia pulled you into another hug, wiping away all the thoughts that were running rampant through your head. Right as you were sinking into her embrace, she pulled away. "No te preocupes. I'll let you finish up with the rest of your work. If you want to watch a film together later, call me. I'm free," Alexia pressed a kiss against your crown and left you to your own devices, stepping away from behind the counter gracefully stepping towards the exit of the building, picking up a jog right before she turned the corner and made her way back to her apartment.

You stood there for a couple moments, registering what just happened. Things always went like this. Alexia would show you some signs of affection, you'd get lost in it and pick everything apart about the small interaction in your mind for the rest of the evening. You didn't know what else you could do to make it clear to her that you wanted her. You'd voiced multiple times that you felt good around her, how you felt about the two of you, but it just seemed like she wasn't able to see through what you were saying. You tried to rid yourself of the insecure thoughts that were creeping past the walls of your mind and busied yourself with more admin work for the rest of the afternoon.

That night, you didn't call Alexia. You had a free night, but you didn't spend it cuddled up with her on the couch, like you had done often the past couple weeks. You and her would pick a film and get way too close to each other throughout it, before you inevitably fell asleep with your head on her lap, always disappointed the morning after when you woke up in her bed, alone. You appreciated that she carried you to bed, but you wanted to be with her. Not alone in her room, sheets cold on the other side, door ajar with the possibility of her joining you, but it never happened.

As much as you tried to distance yourself from Alexia, you couldn't. You didn't let yourself, but it was also nearly impossible with how the midfielder clung to you. You loved it, really, but you'd loved it more if you knew why she wasn't bridging the gap that was so, so clear between the two of you.

-

Christmas Eve. A day you'd grown to love over the past couple years. You didn't have particularly good childhood memories about the day, but ever since you were able to make your own plans for the festivities, December 24th had quickly become one of your favorite days. For the last couple years now, you and your friends had built the little tradition of going to one of your houses and celebrating it there. Everyone that attended made a dish, whether it was starters, main or dessert, and you all enjoyed the company with good food and a couple glasses of good wine. This year, though, you'd all agreed on having it in Barcelona. Your friends didn't want to pass up on the opportunity of seeing you, but they also really wanted to experience Barcelona in all its glory during the winter months. You couldn't blame them. If there was one thing you loved about these couple weeks, it was how nice the city was decorated. Christmas lights adorning every street lantern, Christmas trees littered throughout the city and the soft chime of Christmas music waltzing through the air.

You'd gone out of the way to decorate your aunt's apartment that was yours for the week, her going back to England to celebrate all of it with your family over there. She'd promised you she would give them all many hugs from you, a small side of yours still gutted about the fact that you wouldn't see your family, your mum for Christmas this year. But you knew, surrounded by your friends, you'd have an incredible night. This year, though, you all agreed that plus ones were welcome. You thought it was only fair that if they had to come to Spain, their partners were allowed to come too. That said, though, it seemed like you were the only one without a plus one. It wasn't really something that bothered you, having been single for quite some time now, but you would be lying if you said it hadn't been on your mind the past couple days. Your friends and their partners were out exploring Barcelona before they had to come to yours, and you couldn't help but dread the fact that you couldn't join them with a partner of yourself. Your thoughts dialed back to Alexia, seemingly inevitable, and you figured the least you could do was text her and wish her a fun Christmas Eve.

To: Ale ⭐️ Enjoy your Christmas Eve tonight, Ale. 🧡

You added a little finishing touches to your dinner table, meticulously arranging all the decorations that were on it as you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.

From: Ale ⭐️ Thank you, amor. No plans tonight, though. I have training tomorrow morning and we aren't very big on Christmas Eve in our family

Despite the nickname driving you wild, your shoulders fell visibly as you read Alexia's message. You couldn't imagine not having plans on Christmas Eve. A thought crossed your mind and you acted upon it before the flurry of confidence got lost on you.

To: Ale ⭐️ Wanna join us? There's a couple friends and their partners coming over. We're just having a big dinner. Nothing too crazy. If you want, I'll drive you home for training tomorrow? :)

You quickly turned your phone back off and shoved it back into your back pocket, already nervous about Alexia's reply. You busied yourself with a couple final preparations to the snack plates you made, that being your part of the food tonight. You gave your table and food one more look, deciding you were satisfied with how everything looked before you made your way over to your bedroom and picked out the outfit you'd bought for tonight.

You were shopping in Barcelona on your day off last week when your eyes fell on a elegant-looking black jumpsuit. You realized that you didn't have an outfit yet for Christmas Eve, so the choice was made for you, and a couple minutes later you left the store with an extra bag hanging from your hands. You showed the piece of clothing to Alexia through a picture over text, and she voiced how beautiful she thought you would look in it. It was a simple compliment, but it'd warmed you inside and it had you thinking about how it could've been had you guys decided to start a relationship somewhere during the last few months. You could've spent the holidays together, buying each other presents, wearing matching pj's, watching Christmas films on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. But despite all the flirting and teasing, nothing had happened between the two of you, and you were here in your bedroom, alone. Before you could sulk any further, you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.

From: Ale ⭐️ Oh, eso suena bien. Are you sure? I don't want to intrude on your night with your friends.

You chuckled at her concern, and typed a quick reply.

To: Ale ⭐️ Yes, I'm sure. I'd love to have you with us here. Vendrán a las 7, pero puedes venir un poco antes si quieres :)

You tried your best to form a coherent Spanish sentence, knowing Alexia liked it when you made an effort to try and speak her mother tongue. She'd let it slip one time that she found your accent attractive, and ever since then you'd attempted to learn a bit more in your free time. A quick glance at the clock told you the time was nearing 6, so you waited for Alexia's reply and then quickly jumped in the shower.

From: Ale ⭐️ Perfect. I'll be there. See you soon. x

The jumpsuit fitted you perfectly, hugging and accentuating your curves in all the right ways. You put on a light touch of make-up, not wanting to go overboard but you liked to add a little extra touch to your look on days like these. You made your way back downstairs and lit some candles, trying to set a warm and homely scenery for your guests later. You put on a soft Christmas playlist and took a step back to admire your work, infatuated by how cosy your place looked right now.

You'd turned off all the big lights and replaced them with your cosy mood lightning throughout the apartment, casting your place in a golden glow. The shadows of the candles you lit were dancing all over the ceiling. Your Christmas tree, which you had spent hours on last week trying to decorate it to your liking, was tucked away in the corner of the living room, its twinkling lights shining bright. The dinner table was decorated lightly, adding a couple red and white details to the table decoration. There was a mistletoe hanging from the arched entryway from the dining area to the living room, and you couldn't help but think about the possibilities it could bring later on. The light scent of cinnamon and peppermint hung in the air, courtesy of a couple scented candles Alexia had gifted you last week. She'd recently learned just how much you liked the holidays, and wanted to give you something that you could use in your place. She wasn't big on it herself, her and her family never having made a big deal out of it, so for her to go out of her way to pick something up for you, meant so much more to you than she could imagine.

The soft hints of music waltzing through the air really finished off the perfect picture, and it's safe to say you were more than satisfied with the way your apartment looked right now. The time was nearing 6:45 and you knew Alexia would be here soon, followed suit by your friends in the following 20 minutes. Right on cue, you heard a knock on your door.

You could feel your heart skipping a beat, but you tried to ignore it. You wiped your hands on your jumpsuit and tried to regain your composure by taking in a deep breath, before making your way over to the door in a couple quick strides and taking a look through the peer hole of the door. If you were nervous before, you surely were now. You couldn't quite see all of it, but the outfit Alexia was wearing had already left a dry feeling in your mouth. You caught yourself staring and shook your thoughts, stepping back and opening your door, revealing the Spaniard in all her glory. She was wearing a pair of black suit pants, combined with a white blouse that she left opened at the top. Her hair was straightened and fell down her shoulders, a welcome change to the ponytail and headband she usually had in when you saw her. You didn't see her in something else than her sporty attire that often, so every time you did, she always managed to take her breath away. As if her outfit wasn't enough to throw you off balance, she was holding a a big bouquet of red roses in her hands. The look on her face told you that she knew this outfit would've pulled a reaction out of you, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss the goofy grin off her lips.

"Ale," you breathed, "Hey. You look incredible," you said, taking a step back and allowing her space to enter your apartment. She turned back towards you and shamelessly checked you out, letting her eyes rake over your jumpsuit-clad body before she met yours. "Hear who's speaking. You look amazing," she said, inching closer to you and pressing a lingering kiss against your cheek. You didn't fail to notice the way her hand wrapped around your waist for a second, the skin on your lower back burning where she had just touched you. "Aquí, para ti," she said, holding out the bouquet in front of her. "You didn't have to do this, Ale, you know-," "Shh, don't worry. You invite me, so I bring you something."

A blush coated your cheeks as you took the bouquet from her, placing it down on the counter while you looked for a vase. "This looks nice, you've done a good job on decorating," Alexia said, her voice ringing through the apartment as she explored your living room. You lifted your head from the cabinet in which you found a vase that would suit the flowers, and shot her a smile. "Thank you, I spent quite some time on it. I'm glad you like it," Alexia hummed and returned back to admiring your decorated apartment.

The night went on just as you'd hoped it would. Not long after Alexia arrived, your friends came up too. Long, heartfelt hugs were shared with everyone, suddenly realizing you'd missed them so much more than you thought you had. Alexia didn't need an introduction to any of them, but it's safe to say they were more than surprised when they realized she was your plus one for the evening. A lot of questions were thrown your way whenever Alexia was out of earshot, but you tried to quiet them down because the last thing you wanted, was to get upset about how everything with Alexia went down the last couple of months. You cut it down to "we're just friends," multiple times, but none of your friends could miss the tinge of disappointment that flickered through your eyes every time the subject got brought up.

Lots of good food and a little bit too much wine later, your friends started making their way back out. You'd offered for them to stay over, but they had all made a reservation for a night at hotels nearby. They were all flying back home tomorrow and they could use the rest before a long day of traveling. Alexia was lingering, and while you actually didn't want her to leave, you were also surprised. After all, she still had training tomorrow. With the clock nearing 12, you knew she was way past her usual bedtime. "Ale, you okay?" you questioned, the Spaniard busying herself with cleaning up your table. You frowned when she didn't reply, so you stepped in and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Alexia." "Hmm?" she mumbled, surprise clear in her voice. "Sorry, I didn't hear. What did you say?"

You chuckled and rubbed her shoulder affectionately before dropping your arm back to your side. "Are you okay? I know it's late, I thought you'd want to leave early because you have training in the morning," you said tentatively, not wanting to seem like you wanted her gone. "Ah, sí. Yeah, I should get going," the midfielder said, but you sensed she didn't really want to do that. "You don't have to, you know that. You can stay here too and I'll drive you to practice tomorrow. I don't have work this week and my aunt isn't here, it's not a bother to me."

Alexia's eyes lit up and you knew you had her. "If that's okay?" she asked again, wanting to make sure that she was not a bother to you. You nodded, offering her a big smile. "Yeah, of course. Don't worry. I'll get my bedroom set up for you."

Before she could muster up a reply, you'd already turned the corner and were making your way upstairs. Truth be told, Alexia had felt a little out of place all evening. She had fun, lots of fun even, but she could sense that the air between the two of you was charged with something she didn't like. In all fairness, she was jealous of your friends. They had all brought their partners and were spending their Christmas Eve all cozy and cuddled up with their lovers, while you two were still just going about things as "good friends". She was tired of dancing around the feelings she had for you, the feelings she was sure you had for her too. She wanted nothing more than to spend her days as your girlfriend, waking up together in your bed in the morning, spending your days together, you coming to her games and her coming to your work whenever you had the time. She didn't want to act like she didn't want you in a different way than she had you right now. It wasn't enough. And if it couldn't be, she'd have to cut contact with you.

Unbeknownst to her, you were thinking about her too in your bedroom. You made your bed and put out some clothes for Alexia to sleep in, and you couldn't help but think about how disappointed you had been that you didn't get to love up on Alexia like your friends were doing with their partners all night. A couple fleeting touches would've had to do, each one lingering a bit longer than the other, telling you that Alexia was clearly feeling the same way about the situation like you. Despite the obviousness of the whole ordeal, neither of you had succeeded in taking the next step. You were caught up in your mind, when suddenly an idea came up to you. The mistletoe.

You made your way back down and were surprised to see your dining table cleaned up. The kitchen was still quite the mess, but that was something you would tackle yourself tomorrow. "Thanks, Ale, you didn't have to do that. I could've helped you", you said, the Spaniard waving you off from her spot in the kitchen. "Don't worry, please. You invited me tonight and you're letting me stay here, the least I can do is help you with cleaning up."

You mumbled another quick thanks when she passed by you, making her way to the living room and plopping down on the couch. You wanted to follow her, but there was only one thing on your mind and you wouldn't let it go until you'd got what you wanted. You lingered between the dining area and the living room, very purposefully standing under your arched entryway where the mistletoe hung. You prayed to all the Gods that Alexia would understand the meaning of the Christmas ornament, but the dumbfounded look on her face when you didn't join her immediately told you otherwise.

"Come here, I want to cuddle," she stated. You wanted nothing more than to join her on the couch, to fall in her outstretched arms, but you stayed put, because what you really wanted was something so much better than a cuddle. It wasn't out of sorts for you to be cuddled up together on the couch, so she looked at you weirdly and cocked her eyebrow and head at you when you shook your head adamantly. "¿Por qué no?"

"Ale...," you breathed, vaguely gesturing towards the mistletoe hanging above your head. You didn't want to have to spell it out, missing out on the sincerity of the moment if you had to explain Alexia what you wanted. But you thanked your lucky stars when you saw Alexia moving up from the couch and making her way over to you in a quick few strides. Your luck ran out soon enough though, when Alexia halted in front of you but didn't make any further moves towards you. "¿Qué pasa? Why do you have twigs on your ceiling?"

At that moment, you wished that the ground would swallow you whole. You thought you finally were about to get what you'd been yearning for the past couple months, but much to your disdain, Alexia clearly didn't know what the mistletoe hanging above the two of you meant. You sighed and closed your eyes, taking a moment to ground yourself before speaking up. "Alexia, that's a mistletoe," you explained. "A what? Mistle... toe? What is that?" You sighed again and pinched the bridge of your nose, barely containing a laugh at the ridiculous situation you found yourself in.

"It's a Christmas decoration, Ale, and it-" "Ah, sí. It's nice," she finished her sentence and grabbed your hand, tugging you towards her and back to the couch, but you planted your feet in the ground. "Alexia," you said sternly. She looked at you with wide eyes, surprised at the tone of your voice. "Yes?" "It's a tradition that, when you're under a mistletoe with someone, that you have to... you have to kiss," you whispered the last word, almost not wanting to voice it out loud, scared that you might break the bond the two of you had been building up the last couple months. Maybe this wasn't what Alexia wanted at all, maybe she just wanted you as a friend and nothing more. Doubts started to creep in the longer the silence between the two of you stretched, neither of you making a move. "Oh...," Alexia mumbled at last.

You looked down at your feet, playing with the rings that clad your fingers. "Yeah," you breathed, before braving a look at her. "I mean, we don't have to... it's just a silly tradition, really. I didn't mean to-," before you could embarrass yourself further while trying to turn the situation around, you felt Alexia's hands cupping your cheeks. She tilted your head upwards and took a step closer towards you, resting her forehead against yours. She closed her eyes for a second and breathed in through her nose, composing herself for a moment before opening her eyes again and locking them with yours. She brushed your bottom lip with her thumb before speaking up.

"Can I kiss you?" "Please do."

[the-modern-typewriter]

The villain, who doesn't typically celebrate much anything gets invited to an event (holiday, gala, birthday, etc) by hero with no strings attached.

This is a Secret Santa snippet gift @snowshowerwriting 😊 Have a great one! I hope you enjoy.

---

“…And I was just wondering if, maybe, if you’re not too busy, you’d want to go with me?”

The villain stared at the hero for a long moment, watching the colour slowly creep up the hero’s cheeks and all the way up to the tips of their ears.

Snow begin to drift and eddy lazily on the empty rooftop around them.

“Only if you want to,” the hero said. “Sorry. You’re probably too busy, what with being…you. Forget I asked! It’s not a big deal or anything I just—”

“—You want me to go to the peace ball with you.”

“Only if you want to!”

“Why?”

The villain could think of a dozen reasons why, but none of them exactly fitted with their impression of the hero in front of them.

The annual peace ball was a tinsel-strewn, glittering festive affair designed to promote good will across the city by forcing all heroes and villains to join together in a night of absolute truce. No fighting. So help anyone who tried scheming, though of course everyone still did. Good will to all super-powered men, women and others on earth!

The villain had been invited before, in the first few years that the ball was hosted, by a few of the boldest players on either side of the roster. They’d always said no. Never mind that they’d never been much one for making a big deal out of arbitrary times of year. The hero in front of them was not a particularly bold creature, though, heroics aside. Nor were they the sort to want to make some kind of statement.

The hero was bafflingly genuine. Too true to themselves to be of much use in politics, and too powerful for most to want to risk taking a run at them. Powerful enough, certainly, that they didn’t need the villain’s protection or the implication of an alliance between them. Good enough, surely, that the villain struggled to envision a scenario where the hero tried to enlist them over mince pies.

Indeed, as far as the villain could tell, the hero had absolutely nothing to gain by having the villain on their arm.

The hero’s head tilted at the question. “Because I think it would be nice?”

“I’m not nice.”

“Well, no. But it would be nice to spend more time with you. But only—”

“—Only if I want to,” the villain finished.

The hero’s blush deepened. It was possibly one of the most adorable things that the villain had ever seen. Still, the hero stood their ground and waited for an answer, arms folded grumpily against their own overly expressive face.

“Yeah,” the villain said, smothering a smile. “Okay. Sounds…nice.” They kept their voice light. Casual. Their heart hammered in their chest, giving an almost painful squeeze at the bright grin that shamelessly crossed the hero’s face.

“Yeah?” The hero raised their eyebrows. “Nice.”

The villain snorted.

The hero’s grin grew, delighted. “I’ll pick you up at seven? Unless you’d rather meet there?”

“Seven is fine, but I’ll come get you. What address works?”

They made the arrangements, the hero practically fizzing, like they really were looking forward to a night with the villain at their side. No strings attached. It was…well. It was really was so damn nice. There was a rare, warm feeling buzzing in the villain’s chest.

Still.

“You do know you’re going to get hell for turning up with me, don’t you?” the villain asked. “Whatever your reasons.”

“Mm.” The hero made a show of thinking. “I fought a literal mutated snowman last week, but you know what really scares me? Other people’s dumb opinions at the Christmas party.”

The villain found themselves laughing.

“Honestly,” the hero said. “I don’t know how we’ll survive.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You could get hell for turning up with me. Whatever your reasons.”

“It’s cute that you think anyone other than you dares to give me hell about anything.”

“I could be a terrible, hellish date.”

“Oh yeah?” The villain took a step forward, before they could stop themselves. A belated lightbulb flicked on inside their head. “Is that what you are then? My date?”

“I mean—" The hero’s eyes widened. They floundered. They bit their lip, drawing the villain’s attention immediately, and parties were lame but that mouth was absolutely not. “Only if you want me to be!” the hero said. “We can just go as friends. Long suffering colleagues. I’m not trying to—”

“Oh, no. You’re my date, darling. No taking that back.”

“Oh, thank god.”

That time, the villain utterly failed at smothering a smile.

“Oh, crap. I mean—” The hero scrambled for a more eloquent, less relieved, cooler response. They came up endearingly blank.

“Nice?” the villain offered.

The hero narrowed their eyes, playful. “You’re mocking me. Rude.”

“I would never dream of mocking my date.”

“No?”

“It wouldn’t be very festive of me.”

“Oh, yes. Because you’re such a big fan of festivity and seasonal celebrations.”

The villain blinked, mostly out of surprise that the hero had been paying enough attention to even notice that. Maybe they shouldn’t have been surprised all things considered. The hero was smarter than they let on. “And yet,” they said, “you invited me to a seasonal celebration.”

“Well.” The hero shrugged, mostly managing careless that time. “Limited opportunities to take you out anywhere else. I think people might panic if I just turned up with you for a dinner.”

“We’d be served very quickly. I do tend to clear our restaurants with my presence.”

The hero snorted.

“So what does one do at a peace ball?” the villain asked, voice a murmur.

“There’s food. Drink.” The hero recovered themselves, reaching out and taking the villain’s hand, drawing them a few steps closer, leaving footprints in the snow beginning to coat the roof. Their voice softened too. Liquid caramel. “Dancing.”

“Dancing?”

“You done much of that before?”

“You might have to teach me.”

“Well, we start by you wrapping your arms around me like this…”

The villain might have shivered. The hero might have grinned, humming a made-up tune beneath their breath as they swayed together.

The weeks until the ball flew by.

***

People did stare when the two of them walked in. The villain chose to believe it was because the hero looked absolutely gorgeous, despite their dubious choice of wearing a festive jumper to what was clearly supposed to be a black tie event. The jumper was red and said ‘yule can do it friend’.

Maybe the hero was bold, in their way. The villain definitely thought, in the last few weeks, that they’d underestimated their sometimes-enemy.

There were a lot of people crowded into the city hall venue. Pretty much everyone. The villain abruptly missed their usual peaceful night of strolling around the city, relishing the way that the streets emptied as everyone bundled away to wherever their festivities were.

No panic. No screaming or nervous looks. No chance of some would-be-hero showing up demanding what the hell they were doing.

The hero set a steadying hand on the small of their back, studying their face, and their easy read of the villain’s emotions should have been alarming. It was alarming. It was also…

“You good? Do you want to go and grab a drink?” the hero asked. “What can I get you?”

“I don’t drink in public.”

“They have hot apple juice and hot cocoa too. Some fancy mocktails.”

“You don’t mind that I’m not joining you on the champagne?”

“Why would I?”

Some people, the villain thought privately, minded. They had specific ideas on what a party was supposed to be like and felt judged should the villain deviate from that pre-determined idea. The hero led them through the party, expertly weaving people.

“So?” the hero waggled their eyebrows. “What will it be?”

The villain retreated from the stand with an alcohol-free glass of sparkling. Easy to blend in, even if the taste was nothing special. The two of them watched the room for a while, trying out the various different canapes in the buffet, chatting.

It felt better with the hero at their side. They so obviously knew what they were doing at a party, smoothly carrying conversation with anyone who came over, but not in a way that made it seem like they were schmoozing. It didn’t make the villain’s skin crawl. The hero mainly got excited about and asked for pictures of everyone’s pets. Whenever anyone tried to comment on the fact that the two of them were there together, the hero said cheerily that it was “nice, wasn’t it?”

They’d catch each other’s eyes as whoever it was left. An inside joke. It had been a long time since the villain had been in on an inside joke. With the hero, it was a little thrilling.

Of course, as the evening wore on, there was dancing.

The movements were familiar, after all of the hero’s ‘lessons’ in the lead up to the ball. It made it easy to ignore the rest of the room, and the gaudy tree, and the awkward feeling that they might destroy their reputation for the sake of a party. The hero didn’t care about their reputation, did they? They just did what they wanted to.

“So,” the villain said. “What else does one do on a date?”

The hero’s eyes lit up, better than any fairy-light or candle. They stroked their fingers along the nape of the villain’s neck. The music took the opportunity to change to something slow and intimate, inviting everyone to press a little closer. It should have annoyed the villain, but with the hero in their arms, grinning at them, it couldn’t possibly.

“Well,” the hero made a show of considering. “There’s hand-holding.”

“Indeed.” Their fingers wrapped around each other as they moved.

“And kissing.”

“Ah, kissing,” the villain said. Their gaze dipped, inevitably, to that mouth worth going to parties for. “You might have to teach me.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve kissed before,” the hero said, amused. “But I’m always happy to provide a refresher.”

“Part of being a good, heroic citizen I imagine. Helping out the needy.”

“Needy, are you?”

The villain opened their mouth. They registered what they said.

“You’re blushing,” the hero said.

“It’s rude to point it out and mock your date.”

“I would never dream of mocking my date,” the hero said. Then, finally, the hero leaned in to kiss them. Sweet, honeyed, and the warm thing in the villain's chest glowed. They dragged the hero closer, wanting more, more, more. The hero laughed with breathless pleasure and nipped at their lips.

The next year, the villain vowed right then, they were taking their hero somewhere private.

[stxrslutrestored]

BE STILL

pairing; rafe cameron x sweetie!reader

summary; rafe works a lot, and you need a lot, that means sometimes you have to come to a compromise 

content; ddlg dynamics, subspace, slight dry humping, cockwarming, female masturbation

authors note; lowkey I rushed the ending but I wanted to have at least one new full blurb out on each of my blogs

rafe is working in his office, doing some pointless admin work on his laptop that he claims is crucial, you know it’s not.

all day you’ve been huffing and puffing. hot and bothered, unable to calm yourself down. you need to be taken care of. you’d told rafe as much but all he’d done is promised you that he would later. you don’t want it to be later. 

it’s about midday when you decide enough is enough and go to see rafe. your mind is already starting to go fuzzy and you fear you won’t be able to stay stable by yourself. you pad down the hallway in your bare feet towards his home office. 

he doesnt turn back when you walk through the door, approaching from behind. you go up to him and he swivels his chair round momentarily, letting you climb into his lap and straddle him. you immediately cuddle up as he turns back to face the desk. 

you sit in silence for a moment before he speaks “what’chu doin’ up here huh?” he murmurs, still working around you, fingers tapping away at his keyboard. 

you bury your face in his chest “need you rafe.” you tell him, “need to stop thinkin’ please.” you say. 

rafe nods, rubbing your back with a free hand for a moment, “thought I told you to wait for that baby? don’t remember that?” he asks, still not looking. 

you whine, “can’t wait daddy.” you tell him, “just can’t wait. tried so hard but… but need you daddy.” you look up with your best wide eyes, needing him to take care of you right now. you notice that you’re absentmindedly starting to grind forward, your crotch starting to rub up just a bit against his. 

he sighs, “you really can’t wait huh?” you shake your head, affirming his question. he sighs again and then nods, “I’ll take care of you baby.” he tells you, “but gotta let me finish my work. gonna sit n’ be nice an’ quiet for me okay?” 

“okay,” you nod, feeling immense relief as you finally let your thoughts begin to melt away. you’re grinding on him now, weakly, but surely you are. his hand comes to your back to support you for a couple of seconds. 

“wanna kiss. c’mere real quick, yeah?” you immediately comply, starting to suck on his bottom lip with great vigor. he kisses back for a little bit before slipping his thumb into your mouth and pulling you away. “gonna sit on dad’s cock now. yeah? but gotta be real still.” 

barely registering his words you move back, ketting him undo his fly and then pull your panties down from under your short skirt. he takes you by the hips and brings you forward, gently lowering you onto his cock. 

you whimper at the stretch, it stings just a little but you quickly get settled. the first few seconds are okay, because you normally don’t move to start with anyway. but after those seconds pass it starts to feel weird. you have the urge to squirm around and stimulate yourself but the moment you even make a hint of a movement he stops you and murmurs “be still.” 

you whine, “dad,” you fall into his chest, propping your head up on hsi shoulder, “lemme cum first please.” you ask him, “gonna be still after that daddy. promise.” 

rafe shakes his head, “why don’t you rub that little clit of yours, then. can make yourself feel good on daddy’s cock by yourself, but I aint doing any work until later.” you huff at that response, but mind ever so cloudy, you decide to do it anyway. 

your hand snakes down to where your pussy is wrapped around rafe’s cock, you start to rub little circles. while it’s exhausting and irritating at first, it eventually feels good, and you allow yourself to get lost in the feeling. 

rafe may be a busy guy, and sure he doesn’t take care fo you in the most conventional way. but really, you wouldn’t wish to be doing anything else right now. 

[quarterlifekitty]

Desperate times

A sequel to this post and poll. Started feeling a little jigsaw-y…. Decided that I wanted to continue this post— what would it be like if their methods didn’t work? If they had to up the ante?

The top two winners of the poll won’t have to find out, because they’re getting you back! The rest? Well…

cw: dubcon/noncon, stalking, unhealthy relationships, somno, daddy kink stuff, intox, violence, baby trapping, and more stuff I don’t really know how to describe lol

❌Gaz is making a spectacle. Formulating the ultimate romantic gesture— a in a public place. He’s used your family and friends to lure you there on their invitation. Can’t you see how all of them want you to take him back? Look at him, on his knee in the middle of the botanical garden, promising to be better for you if you’ll just give him another chance. They’re all waiting on your response. Come on, luv, just give them what they want.

❌Soap is moving onto step 2, and that’s getting you drunk. Not so hard when you and your friends go to an upscale bar. He conveniently runs quite late meeting the 141 there, so to you and your friends, there’s just a handsome group of strangers sending some pretty girls free drinks. And everyone knows the girly drinks have the highest percentages. The rest of the gang will pick off your friends (payment for doing him this favor) and he’ll be ready to swoop in and take you home. Aren’t you lucky he was there? Just let him get you into bed. Ach, he really shouldn’t leave you alone in this state… best stay the night. A bit of advice? Don’t squirm when he gets to work— reminding you of the good times.

❌Ghost keeps it going strong with the scary voicemails. And they keep getting worse. The grunting, and threats, the desperation coating his voice. Not nice to keep your man waiting, birdie. They’re followed by photos. Printed out physically, slipped in your mail slot or under your door, bare. No envelope, no address or signature. All dated with black sharpie, all recent. You looking both ways, getting ready to cross the street. Changing out of your work clothes when you get home. His gloved thumb gently brushing your lip while you’re sleeping. His cum on your toothbrush. That one is dated as two weeks old. Just let him back into your life, birdie.

⭕️ Price feels his heart sing when he sees your name on the caller id. He gives the perfect, respectful response. It’s good to hear from you. Is everything alright? When he agrees to meet up with you, he doesn’t let it show how eagerly he’s been waiting for the chance. Tells you that you look good. Life must’ve been treating you well since he last saw you. He seems so genuinely pleased for you… He almost lets his calculated restraint slip when you say you’d like to give things another go. Asks if you’re sure. If he were being honest, in his eyes, things never ended. This was just a rough patch. But he’s glad you’ve come around to seeing it his way. He’ll have you moved back in by the end of the month, swollen with his kid by the end of the next. It’ll weigh you down, make it easier for him to slip the ring on.

⭕️ Honest to god, König sees the halo glow behind your crown when you meet up with him, and agree to a second chance. He promises that he’ll be better— you won’t want for anything, he’ll be so good for you. He’s acting like you’ve agreed to marry him. Maybe because in his mind, you have. That’s inevitable, seeing as he’s never going to lose you again.

❌ Nikolai starts getting a lot less… clean with your potential paramours. Gone are the bribes, the simple threats and ghosting— in are the bloody heaps of men that are just alive enough to twitch. This could all stop. Just be his good girl again, come back to your ivory tower. Papochka won’t be upset, he’ll just be glad to have you home. His patience for you is endless, but for the rest of the world? Well, do you really want to find out?

[chaos-vixen]

@clockwayswrites @hdgnj

In all fairness, Tim was not expecting the solution to be not only done quickly, but so efficiently that he himself wondered why he didn’t think of that solution.

The solution you may ask? ASKING. NICELY.

Mildly rage inducing but incredibly heart rate elevating was the 10 Sart smile the King have as he floated over the street(s), kindly asking in a firm yet general command (that totally wasn’t doing things for Tim) for the citizens of Gotham to kindly cut the shit.

But Tim will 100% admit that the otherworldly and eerie smile the Ghost King gave him as he ever so gracefully lowered into his portal back to probably his keep (is those ancient tombs where correct- seriously he spent a pretty penny on those they better fucking be accurate).

But that all aside, because not only did the general population not actually remember the King being there- but John got some weird ass heads up or notification about what was going down (via magic alarm or a favor, Tim did not want nor need to know-) and was breathing down Tim’s neck as if he of all people had a leg to stand on in terms of not “selling one’s soul to a High Being™️”. Honestly if all that wasn’t bad enough, someone SAW the Ghost King headed towards the Drake house, and Constantine managed to get that out of them before they forgot. (John later explained this to be a similar affect to what Chathulu has in the Lovecraft books- he’s beyond the bounds of comprehension for the normal human except for those with paranormal bloodlines, magic, or semi-related meta abilities. Then he muttered something about “those damned liminals..” but Tim decided to table that for later)

John magic misogyny aside, Tim got a very useful lecture on some magic workings his tombs did not have in-depth lore on. The downside was that, according to his trackers on his family, they are approaching the Drake Manor at a pace which Tim does not like.

The solution is to reenact Harry Potter and do a little side-along apperation the hell out of there before the family realizes that he isn’t in fact where he’s supposed to be (on bed rest in the medical wing of the cave because he dislocated his arm literally three hours before he had to summon The King)

And where does magic itself (because Ti me I’ll never admit but PERHAPS he may have not been thinking of a destination, not he was NOT panicked!):

The House of Mystery

To which they fall from two feet in the air to Raven and Zatana sipping tea.

The last cherry on top of his pile of cherries (regrets) is the black slowly fading into his vision, probably because of how much magic it took to summon The High King, Supreme Ruler of the Infinite Realms and Overseer of the Dead and their resting. Also the teleporting probably didn’t help-

Oop why is John shaking him?

Probably doesn’t matter- he can’t really make it out anyways …

Plz continue this the original prompt and continuation where amazing and there’s already so much lore in this AU I’m not sure if I did good with my tid-bit, really want to see this in full!!

Tim Drake becomes a mini Hellblazer

Tim is determined to be the best Robin he can be- he has a hero's legacy to live up to. He has a thirst to know as bad as Bruce’s. And... he's a bit morally grey. All this leads up to an encounter that will change his course forever.

While he is off training in Europe (wtf on that Bruce), he runs into Constantine and some demonic trouble. Just so the stubborn kid survives, Constantine teaches him some of the basics. Tim, living up to his name, takes to it like a duck to water. After Tim gets back to the states, books just show up every so often in Drake manor. Sometimes even Constantine.

It's surprisingly easy to keep the secret in that big, empty house.

And then one of Gotham's curses come to play, the dead are around as ghosts, and only Tim has any idea what's going on. Problem is, he'd rather the Bats never knew what he knew. Problem is, he might have to pull a John and sell his soul to win.

He hopes the Ghost King is a good master.

Some added possible bonuses:

Constantine has no clue that his mini Hellblazer Tim is a Bat or he would have never.

Tim has been using his powers this whole time- being able to portal and literally become one with the shadows, but it just works for a Bat Mood™️ so no one catches on.

Tim has tattoos like John for powers, but they're the invisible UV ones so they're not visible when he's getting his check overs as Robin/RR.

Possible scenes:

• A cult shows up in Gotham, of course, and the Bats are doing their investigation and find what they think is the home base and Tim's tracker is there. And he's not answering his comms. He's supposed to be resting, he's sick. All hands on deck panic. The Bats roll up ready for a fight just in time to see Tim, covered in blood and a little glass eyed, walking out of the building. Inside is a bloodbath. They are think Tim is traumatized from the obvious demon summoning that went really really badly. Tim is just so fucking tired from using magic and wants to sleep for a week, but sure, the cover story works, so he leans into it. Really annoying how Dick won't stop hugging him though.

• Constantine, trying to avoid his job trapped in Hell, again, sends his apprentice to meet with the Justice League. To bad he didn't give the apprentice a heads up because suddenly Tim is summoned/portaled into the Watchtower. And ho-shit guess that cat is out of the bag now! Not that he's willing to explain anything.

[natalievoncatte]

Everything was in place. Lena dropped down into the passenger seat of Jess’s car. The trunk was loaded with presents and books and Lena was ready. Jess fired up the engine of her 2009 Honda Civic and off they went, navigating National City traffic.

Lena’s stomach was full of butterflies. She had her hood up and was dressed down in sweats, not looking at all her fashion place self. Jess parked by one of the service entrances and a security guard let them in with a curt nod. Lena had dropped him a four figure tip to cooperate.

The kids were gathered in a common area on the fifth floor pediatric intensive unit, ranging in age from three to fifteen. Lena fought the lump that formed in her throat as they gathered, some of the younger ones in the laps of the older.

Lena started with a reading of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, complete with sill voices and big smiles and a lot of effort on her part to keep tears from welling in her eyes.

Some of these kids were having their last Christmas, and some of them knew it. Some didn’t. Others would go home, and a lucky few would help change the world with their participation in clinical trials.

On some level Lena knew that Kara would show up eventually- she’d been dropping in regularly enough, once learning that Lena read to the kids.

Sure enough, she showed up as the kids were eating turkey and mashed potatoes and gravy prepared under the supervision of a Michelin star chef that Lena had hired at great expense to prepare their dinner.

Supergirl, all swagger and power, strode into the room. The response was curious. They knew her of course, and she’d been there enough times, even read to them, that there was a peculiar familiarity to her visits and only the new kids got truly excited.

They were more excited by Kara’s plus one. She’d brought with her the most perfect Santa Claus that Lena had ever seen. No fake beard here; every whisker was real, as was every crease and wrinkle. Even his costume was flawless, velvet coat and paints lined with genuine fur. He had a huge beach sack thrown over one shoulder and greeted the kids with a cheer, setting to work handing out gifts.

Kara came over and stood next to Lena.

“You’ve outdone yourself this time,” said Lena.

Across the room, Santa gave a hearty Ho! Ho! Ho!, and had taken up a seat to invite kids onto his lap.

“Believe it or not,” Kara said, “he owes me a favor.”

Lena snorted and Kara winked.

“‘sides, I live at the North Pole, too. Sort of.”

Lena watched the man with the children. He really was quite good, a consummate professional.

She looked over at Kara. There was a twinge of pink in her cheeks and snowflakes melting in her hair, and her new suit showed off her muscular arms. More than that, there was a look of a wistful joy in her eyes as she watched the kids enjoy themselves.

Lena’s heart would have grown three sizes that day, if it didn’t already feel like it might burst through her ribs every time she looked at Kara, really looked at Kara.

She’d long ago admitted her feelings to herself- it was getting them out that was the problem, even now.

Across the room, Santa Claus stood, startling Lena out of her reverie.

“I’m sorry kids, but I really must go. Lots more visits to make tonight!”

He stood and walked over to Kara. “I do have that one stop to make before I begin my rounds proper. Shall we?”

He even had the perfect Santa voice.

Kara turned to Lena and offered a hand.

That was how Lena ended up in something like the setup for a bad joke: Riding in an elevator with Santa Claus and Supergirl.

It was actually rather awkward. Kara opened the roof access door and motioned for Lena, and the Santa Claus impersonator followed her out. Kara went last, lingering by the door.

“May we speak in private?” Santa said.

“Sure,” said Lena, happy to play along. She pulled her hood up against the chill and walked a few dozen paces from Kara, and Santa turned to face her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t bring you that easy bake oven you wanted when you were six,” he began.

Lena’s face fell. Lillian had exploded at her when she asked on Santa’s lap, a much less convincing Santa, and asked for the silly cooking toy.

She’d screamed that menial tasks were beneath a Luthor and Lena was supposed to ask for the American Girl dolls that Lillian had already bought, and what an ungrateful, spoiled little bitch she was. It was the first time that Lillian had called her that and far from the last; she’d added many insults to it over the years, like stupid or lazy or, most painfully of all, fat; dropping that one had sent Lena into a spiral of crash dieting that almost turned into full blown bulimia by the time she graduated from high school.

She’d never told anyone about the easy bake oven. Not even Kara.

Before Lena could demand an explanation or even speak, Santa reached into his bag, withdrew something, and handed it to her.

Lena took the stuffed bear on instinct. When she did she knew it was more than a bear. As her hands touched the somewhat ratty fur and she saw the little tear in his left ear she knew, she knew.

When the Luthors took her in, Lillian destroyed everything of her old life- everything of her mother, as if to erase her from ever existing. It was spiteful, and hateful. Lillian couldn’t revenge herself on his husband’s mistress so she did it to her child.

She’d burned Lena’s stuffed animals. They were all gone, reduced to ash.

Except… except…

“Clive?” Lena whispered, hot tears burning down her cheeks. “This is impossible, how…”

He placed a gloved hand on her shoulder and Lena felt a wave of indescribable shock roll through her. Something just… opened.

Her mind filled with an image of perfect clarity, and a song fresh and bright in her ears. Her mother’s voice and the distant sound of the sea that would eventually take her. All her life Lena could barely remember her mother- she clawed at scraps, more able to feel her than truly remember her.

Not anymore. As she clutched the bear to her chest, memory flooded her mind like warmth from a hearth fire filling a cold room. She grinned like a fool and choked back sobs.

“How?” Lena chirped out.

“Kara asked me to bring you something very special, and I do owe her a favor. I really must get going, though.”

Then she heard it. Jingling bells.

Lena had seen a woman fly; said woman had saved her from splatting on the pavement too many times. She had never seen reindeer fly, pulling a sleigh behind them.

Wait.

No.

This was not possible.

Santa Claus threw his sack in the rear of the sleigh and climbed aboard. He threw Lena a wave.

“Merry Christmas, Lena Luthor.”

“Wait,” Lena called. “Did you bring Kara something?”

“What Kara Zor-El Danvers wants, I cannot give her,” he said, with a cryptic grin.

Lena stumbled back as the reindeer launched into a full gallop with a blast of air, the rider snapping his reins. It was only then that Lena noticed that the lead animal had a glowing red nose.

Kara stepped up behind her and put her hands on Len/ shoulders.

“Kara,” Lena said. “That was the real Santa Claus.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t understand. That was the real Santa Claus. He’s real. Santa Claus is real and he gave me my stuffed bear back.”

As Lena turned, Kara smiled. “I know, baby.”

Lena swiped at her cheeks.

“I-I don’t know how you did this, but thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t even know what to say.”

Kara stepped closer, into her space. Very gently, she brushed away one of Lena’s tears with the pad of her thumb.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“He said he couldn’t get you what he wanted. I find that hard to believe.”

“He can’t just give it to me because it’s not his to give. He did give me this, though.”

Kara reached under her cape, drawing out a small twig with a pair of scalloped leaves and some red berries.

“Is that mistletoe?”

“Yeah,” said Kara.

She lifted it over her head and held it there, smiling at Lena.

It took a moment for her brain to catch up. Kara was holding the mistletoe over her head. She was under the mistletoe.

Lena faltered for just a moment, but then stepped forward, closing what little gap was left between them. Kara was every inch the dashing prince as she put her arm around Lena’s waist, spinning her a little as the other hand cupped her chin and tilted her head just so for Kara to place a gentle, loving, and utterly devastating closed-mouth kiss on Lena’s lips.

Suddenly Lena understood what it was that Kara wanted and for the second time in as many minutes her heart soared and Lena threw her arms around Kara’s neck and they swayed there like dancers amid the snow flurries until Kara flew them home.

[jk-kiwi]

Snowbound

Snowbound (18+)

Characters - bf JK x gf reader (woman) 

Genre - first love troupe, romance, fluff, smut, angst and jealousy, drama, first vacation away, THIS is fiction!

Summary - The emotional journey of a couple who face growing tensions in their relationship during their first winter vacation.

Warnings - jealousy, big arguments, kinda possessive JK, both are 18, first time away from parents, JK snowboarding (is this really a warning? After ‘Are you sure?’ probably yes), implied that reader is shorter than Jungkook, reader is kinda temperamental, fictional characters that might get on your nerves, misunderstandings and mixed feeling, the end might be a little rushed idk.

Warnings for the not so holy parts (18+) - both are pretty inexperienced!, first time, kissing/making out, use of protection!, description of male and female body parts, premature ejaculation, they are pretty clumsy, fingering and oral (f rec), brief bj (like 1 sec), some cockblocking, hickeys.

MINORS PLEASE STAY AWAY!

Author’s note - Pushed matchmaker pt2 away for this one, Christmas is here after all. Merry Christmas everyone! Enjoy!

Word count - 10.2k

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Warm clothes, checked. Toiletries, checked. Some good games to play with your boyfriend, also checked! “Hm, this should be everything!” you say, neatly wrapping the last few items you need, as well as your boyfriend's present, before zipping up your suitcase. “Darling! Are you ready, Jungkook is here!” your mom screams from downstairs making excitement bubble inside you. “Coming!” you exhale relieved looking at your baggage, a small smile drawn on your lips. It’s finally time. Your first vacation alone, only you and your boyfriend.

You grab your suitcase, dragging it behind as you go down the stairs. In front of your door, your mom and Jungkook casually chit chat. He looks up as you appear, his face lighting up, his hands immediately come in help as he picks up your suitcase with ease. “There you go. Are you sure you got everything?” he asks, knowing how clumsy you can be, especially while being so excited about this trip. 

You nod enthusiastically, though a part of you can’t help mentally double-checking. “I think I got everything.” you say with a grin.

“Don’t whine later if you can find your socks, I won’t share.” your mom chuckles at you two, looking with so much love in her eyes. “My kids are all grown up. I still remember that one time you snuck out the window just to see your boy.” “Mom!” you whine while her and Jungkook just laugh. “It’s been four years already, you are 18 now, close to finishing highschool and taking a big step in your lives.” she says in a nostalgic but sad tone, adoringly admiring you two. “And now you are big enough to go somewhere alone.” You sigh slightly, taking your mom into a warm embrace. “It’s not like we will be gone forever, it’s just a 5 day getaway.” Your mom chuckles, her warmth lingering as you pull away. “Still, don’t forget to call everyday!” “And no funny business, understood!” she says with a stern voice, turning to face Jungkook who’s ears grow slightly red. “We will be good kids, don’t worry!” you say while urging the boy out the door. “Alright, go on, have fun! And send pictures!” she yells, her expression softening as she watches the two of you step outside. “When did they grow so much?” she mumbles from the doorway. The car is already warmed up, and you can see Jungkook’s snowboard strapped securely to the roof. “Got your board, huh?” “Well, I’m planning to impress a girl, how else should I do it?” You laugh, rolling your eyes. “You’re such a show off.” He laughs too, before opening the passenger door for you to enter, with quick steps he gets on the other side, entering the driver’s seat. “Alright, let’s go!” he says while taking over the road. The atmosphere was cozy, the radio played Christmas carols while you enjoyed how beautiful the snow was settling onto the ground. You look to your left, admiring Jungkook’s features. The way his voice softly hums along the songs, while focused eyes never break contact with the road ahead. Jungkook glances over at you briefly, catching your gaze for a moment. "What?" he asks with a small, teasing smile. “Nothing, just admiring you.” you laugh, a little embarrassed by being caught so fast.

"It’s perfect, isn’t it? Finally some time away, just the two of us.” The way he says it, so softly, makes your heart flutter a little. You nod, settling back into your seat. “It feels like a dream, to be honest. Never thought our parents would let us go like this.”

Jungkook chuckles softly, his fingers moving to gently rub your thigh. “I know, right? It feels like we’re breaking some rules.” he snickers. “Well, they probably expected this to happen sooner or later, we’ve been together for four years now. They can’t keep us apart anyway.” "But I guess they’ve been waiting for us to grow up too." you tone down your voice and Jungkook nods thoughtfully, his thumb gently brushing against your leg as he keeps his eyes on the road. “I think they trust us enough now.” he says quietly. The atmosphere around you two gets silent. You feel all grown up in a way. It kinda scares you, all these changes. You glance out the window, watching the snowflakes melt onto the glass. It feels like it’s been just yesterday, the day you fell in love with Jungkook. You were both young and stupid, not exactly knowing what love was about, but your friends started experimenting and you felt big enough to enter that path as well. You had rough patches, with ugly crying and fights, but somehow, you both always found a way back to each other. Sweet and memorable moments being much better remembered. Now, as you sit beside him, you realize how far you’ve come. How the kids who once thought that they had love came to the realisation that the meaning itself it’s much deeper. You’re no longer those two teenagers who snuck up every time they got just to share some secret kisses, or the naive couple that got so embarrassed when their parents caught them cuddling way too close on the couch. Now, you’re standing on the edge of adulthood, rushing to enter the last slope of school, and ready to take on what life has to further offer. “Have you got back any response?” “Huh?” you break out of your ‘down the memory lane’ haze, looking at Jungkook, who’s glancing at you with a curious expression. “The early college application?” “Oh, right…no, no answer yet.” you shut down the topic quickly. There’s a pause for a moment as you bite your lip in guilt. Both you and Jungkook were excellent students, because of this you decided to early apply for colleges. He got his response last week, his dream of going to one of the top universities in Korea coming true. He’s got into Yonsei. You, however…had a little secret. And you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. You had received a response for Yonsei as well, a day after his. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be accepted, the problem was that you both promised to go to the same uni, so it will be easy to move out and to look after eachother, and you were looking forward to that…until. You received a letter the day you were supposed to let your lover know about the thrilling news. One of your projects got recognition. Not just any recognition, but an offer to study abroad on a scholarship…at Harvard. 

You were thrilled when the coordinating teacher pulled you into his office to give you the good news. It was an opportunity that could shape your entire future, the kind of chance people only dream of.

The excitement was overwhelming, but the timing was bad. So you got stuck with two options, either taking your way in life, an opportunity of a lifetime, but the price you had to pay put you away from family, friends and Jungkook, or being close to your lover, but possibly, regretting not taking the chance of something so big when you had to. So, you resumed not telling Jungkook, until now…when the place needs to be confirmed and the guilt of wanting to go to Harvard instead, taking over. You took a deep breath as the car bumps along the snowy road. Jungkook glanced over at you, sensing the sudden shift in your mood. “What’s wrong, love? We are almost there, do you want to make a stop? Are you not feeling good?” the boy asks, concerned.

You felt bad, you didn’t want to hurt him, didn’t want him to feel betrayed or confused, and for sure you wanted this vacation to be perfect and memorable. 

You shake your head softly, giving him a small smile. "No, it's nothing, might be just from the excitement.” You hope the lie sounds convincing, but deep down, you know it’s the last thing you should be doing, you’ve kept this secret and lied enough. It seemed to have worked though, he shrugged and continued on the road, taking a last turn before the view of the cabin in which you will remain for the next few days began to take shape. 

The car pulls into the driveway and you eagerly jump out once the engine is silent. The crunch of the snow beneath your feet and the dancing snowflakes that were falling around you made the place seem magical. “I’ll get the bags!” Jungkook says as he lets you enjoy winter just a little more. He grins, clearly happy to see you so excited. It felt freeing, being away from everything, forgetting responsibilities for a brief second.

You get lost in the view, wandering around while your man carries everything inside. The place was beautiful, a lot of snow, and the trees were so tall you would think their peak could scrape the sky above. 

The air felt fresh and crisp, your eyes taking in the beauty of the quiet wilderness when suddenly, your foot catches on something. “Oh!” you stumble forward, arms flailing to regain balance as you fall face down into the snow. “Omg, are you okay?” you hear a voice from behind, big hands wrapping around your arms to lift you back and onto the ground. You blink, still a bit flustered, the snow melting with the warmth of your face. The boy crouches down to pick your hat, shaking the remaining frozen fluff off.

“Uh, thank you…” you shyly whisper when his hands offer back the piece of clothing. “No problem.” he laughs lightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I guess this place can be a bit tricky with all the snow and hidden rocks.”

“One minute you're admiring the view, next thing you know you’re stumbling over something. You should be more careful.” the boy beams a breathtaking smile your way making you blush in embarrassment. “I’ll keep that in mind.” you softly respond trying to get away from such awkward situation. “I’m Yohan, by the way.” You nod, taking in the casual, confident vibe he gives off. “I’m Y/N.” You glance up at him, he was good looking, not better than your Jungkook, but still eye- catching. His hair was a chocolate brown color, a little messy, with bangs almost covering his eyes, and even though he was taller than your lover, his body was not as shaped. Yohan nods “Nice meeting you Y/N.” he smiles once more “If you need any tips about the area, feel free to ask. I come here at least three times a year, I know the area like the back of my hand.” You give him a polite smile before letting him lead the way back to the cabins. Once there you wave before rushing inside, your head coming in contact with Jungkook’s firm chest right before entering.

"Everything okay?" he asks, his gaze a little more focused than usual. Your cheeks burn up, but you can’t hide the fact that you are wet, cold and still full of snow. Jungkook raises an eyebrow as he looks over your frame, taking in Yohan’s back as he fades in the distance. “Did that guy do something to you?” You quickly shake your head, trying to brush off the uncomfortable tension that builds in the air. "No, no! I stumbled and fell, he only helped me up and back to this place.” you explain, forcing a smile. "That's all."

Jungkook's gaze lingers on you for a moment before pulling your frame into the house, the warmth of the cabin wrapping around you. He unzips his suitcase, putting out the first towel he sees and wrapping you in it. “You need to change, you’ll catch a cold at this rate.” You look at him throughout your lashes, looking like a wet puppy that follows his owner’s instructions after they get scolded.

"Thanks." you mutter, touched by the way he’s looking after you. You make your way toward the small bathroom to change and wash up. Jungkook watches you for a moment, still concerned over what happened. 

“Take your time love, I’ll start the fire in the meantime!” he calls out as you close the bathroom door. You breathe in deeply before getting rid of your cold clothes and stepping inside the steamy shower. 

As you step out of the bathroom, fully dressed in warm attire, you see Jungkook kneeling by the fireplace, his hands warming up in front of it. You come closer, keeling and wrapping your arms around him, from behind. Your head rests on his back while his fingers gently caress yours. 

"Feel better?" he asks without turning, making you hum, nuzzling your nose on the nape of his neck. "Much better," you reply while raising up, walking over to sit on the couch, curling your feet underneath you.

The boy watches you, before rising to his feet, the warmth of the fire casting a soft glow on his features. He walks over and sits beside you, pulling you into his lap. You comply and sit in his warm arms. 

You smile when he rubs his cheek on the side of your head, his muscles flexing tighter around you. “It’s getting late.” You glance at the clock on the wall, noticing that the evening has settled in.

Jungkook gently runs his fingers through your hair, his lips brushing lightly against your neck. "Do you want to go to bed, or stay up for a bit longer?" he asks in a low tone, arms loosened up to rest on your thighs. 

You close your eyes, leaning back onto him, enjoying the slight intimacy you share. “How about we stay up a little longer.” you say once his fingers start to play with the hem of your pants. “And what do you plan on doing?” he asks, lips curving into a small grin against your neck. One of his hands slowly makes its way inside your pants, playing over the wet patch you developed on your underwear. You halt in his lap when his middle finger starts to rub little circles over your clothed clit. “Jungkook…” you whimper, making the boy shush you with a slow and tangy kiss. His two fingers dragging your wet underwear to the side to play with your slick folds. He manages to break a gasp from you when one of his digits rubs at your entrance. He slowly enters with one, ripping a loud moan from you. “Is this okay?” he manages to ask, sweat building on his forehead and the tent in his pants growing. “Y-yeah.” you manage to mutter between your moans. And as his second starts to make its way in, he knows he’s got you exactly where he wanted. 

His lips move back to your neck to suck a small, purple spot, marking what’s his. “You’re so hot, baby.” his fingers start moving faster and faster, his other hands pulling your pants down enough to access with ease. In a blink, his other fingers begin to gently rub your bundle of nerves, making you lose yourself to the feeling. Your vision clouds and a bunch of pretty stars start to appear as you let yourself go on your lover’s fingers. He drags them through your orgasm before stopping, letting you catch your breath in bliss. “You did so good, my love.” he coos, kissing your lips gently before taking his fingers out, bringing them to his lips to taste you. “Eww, Jungkook!” you both laugh as you get up from his lap, putting your underwear in place and your pants back on. You look towards your boy, his eyes praying over your figure, hard on sitting neatly on the side of his leg, the outline very visible. It’s not the first time you two do stuff like this, toying with each other. In four years you experimented when you got the chance and as puberty was also taking a toll on your hormones, you started to go even deeper down the path. From boring days at his place, when his parents were away, ending with him sloppily eating you out on the couch, to the late nights when you snuck up for a ride, after he’s got his license, just to messily blow his mind away in the back seat.

You were getting good at these things, and well, fingering, this was a newer one. Starting with him just slowly rubbing your sweet pussy to bring you to orgasm and advancing to plucking a finger or two into your tight wetness. The two of you were no strangers to intimacy, but somehow you still haven’t taken that big, big, step. You never had real sex. And deep down the both of you wanted to change that, wanting to feel the connections brew and tie you closer. You kneel down in front of him, taking the opportunity to maybe, just maybe take things a notch further. The boy licks his lips looking down at you with clouded eyes. You look up as well, asking for permission which you gladly get.

“Go on, baby.” his raspy voice makes your downstairs throb further, especially when he’s manspreading so deliciously to give you access.  

Your fingers untie the strings of his sweatpants, hand breaking in to pull out his hot cock. Tip red and leaking with fluid. You gulp stroking him a little, smearing his precum for some better lubrication. You lick your lips and bring yourself closer to his aching tip, but before you can wrap your mouth around him, a loud knock interrupts. You turn around, looking towards the door, silence. You huff thinking it was just some random noise. But when you turn back you only manage to touch his manhood with your lips before another knock, louder than the one before, stops you. You rise from the ground whining in annoyance alongside your boy. “Is this serious?! I’ll go and get it.”. Tucking a few strands of hair you make your way towards the door, while Jungkook goes to the bathroom to quickly solve his problem. “Yes?” you ask while only creaking the door slightly. You find Yohan and a random stranger at your door. “Hello, we are…oh Y/N!” his eyes sparkle when he takes a hold of your frame. “Yohan, what are you doing here? Especially this late?” you ask concerned, fully opening the door, glancing at the other man from time to time. “Well I told you I come here often. I work as a ranger, and we got notice of a blizzard so we came to announce and give supplies.”  

“The blizzard might be worse than we expect.” the ranger hops on the conversation, his voice calm but firm. “It’s not safe to be out, especially at night, and since we don’t know how long it will last, we need to be prepared.” “We’ll be fine, right?” you ask quietly. Yohan gives you a reassuring smile. “For sure, worst case you’ll have to stay in tomorrow, but other than that it’s not a major threat.” His hand comes closer to pat you on your shoulder in reassurance, but before he can reach you he stops. 

You look behind, finally taking in your boyfriend’s presence, chest puffing up and down, cheeks flustered and his hair messy wet. He looks over at you while wrapping an arm around your waist. “Everything okay?” “Yeah, the rangers brought supplies just in case, there will be a blizzard tonight. You might not snowboard tomorrow.” His expression hardens slightly, his eyes flicking outside to see the wind blowing quicker and quicker. “There are your supplies.” Yohan abruptly interrupts, his face cold all of a sudden. He lands Jungkook an emergency bag. “Thanks, Yohan.” you say softly, making the man smile brightly at you. “Of course. Just wanted to make sure you’re prepared!” his voice is professional, but the way he was absolutely trying to ignore your boyfriend was not. 

Jungkook must have noticed too, the way his arm brings you behind him, trying to guard you. “We’ll be fine, thank you for your service.” he harshly says before shutting the door in their face. 

He exhales annoyed, his jaw tightening. “Is that the guy who helped you earlier?” His voice is steady, but there’s something behind his tone that tells you he’s not entirely fine with how things went down.

“You mean Yohan, yes, he helped me...” You take a step toward him, latching your arm on his biceps, feeling how he relaxes under your touch. “I don’t like him. The way he was looking at you was weird.” You sigh, safe to say your man was jealous and pretty possessive over things that are ‘his’, you being at the top of the list.

You stare at him before rolling his eyes. “He was just being polite…” you mumble, making the man shake his head in disapproval “Just stay away from him.”

Frustration bubbles under your skin, but you keep quiet. This is supposed to be a nice and calm vacation, arguments and jealousies should be put aside. Not wanting to pick up a fight, you just sigh and head for the bed. After a few moments of silence, you hear Jungkook’s footsteps come into the room, his body crawling next to yours. “Tell me if you feel cold, we can notch up the fire.” you hum nesting your body into his arms. 

“Tomorrow.” Jungkook starts, his head resting gently on yours, “We’ll forget about all of this and just have fun, okay? This is our vacation.” he gently kisses your head before closing his eyes, you following right after.

The next day came in quite with a halt, waking up with your man behind the sheets and between your legs. Easy to say, he knew how to make you forget about the jealousy he had the other day, having you wrapped around his finger, a little too good. 

And after a quick shower and the very blissful morning you had, you felt ready to take on the day, finding out from the radio post that the blizzard got ‘postponed’ since the weather ‘magically’ got better overnight. Jungkook had already packed up his board, his enthusiasm contagious as he looked at you with a mischievous grin. “Are you that happy to go snowboarding?” you teasingly ask, making the man nod vigorously. You chuckle at his cuteness, grabbing his hand and going towards the slopes. Gearing you up as well since you didn’t have neither the equipment nor the experience in snowboarding. “I can’t wait to get up there!” Jungkook exclaimed, practically bouncing on his toes, waiting for the lift to ascend up the mountain. “It’s going to be so much fun!” he says, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. On the other hand, you felt worried. The idea of heading up the mountain with Jungkook, who was so confident and pretty skilled, only made your nerves worse. 

Lost in your thought you almost don’t feel the warm glove that wraps around yours. “I’m going to help you, so don’t be nervous on me, pretty.” His words made you feel a little better, he always knows how to comfort you. Once on the lift and up the mountain you actually started to feel really scared. All the confidence he gave you peeling away at instant. “Take a deep breath, and slowly go down, I will catch you if anything happens.” And you do, the speed taking over making you fall on your bum. Jungkook urged you to get up and try again, and again…and again…until you got really bored and upset about not catching up to at least 10% of his skills. But the man was unstoppable, the energy he was putting into this could be far more effective in other places. Taking your helmet on, blowing the few strands that got stuck to your forehead you are finally at the bottom of the trail, exhausted and sweaty. 

Your boy pulls next to you with a little show, stopping so abruptly the snow flies in the air. “Up for another round?” hell no! It took you more than two hours to go down this damn slope once, all while Jungkook did at least seven runs. “Don’t even think about it, I’d rather get hot cocoa than spend another two hours breaking my bones.” he laughs loudly, coming over to pat you on the head. “I will ride some more then, stay close so I can at least keep an eye if something happens.” he pecks your red nose taking over to the lift. You shake your head in disapproval, unbuckling from the board and moving towards the nice cafe situated over so conveniently in front of the trail.

You push open the door, instantly greeted by the warmth and the sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee and hot pastries. It’s cozy, with wooden beams lining the ceiling and a roaring fire crackling in the corner. “One hot cocoa please!” grabbing the warm drink, topped with whipped cream and marshmallows you go outside to sit on one of the beanbags. You glance upward to spot Jungkook gliding down the slope with effortless ease, his movements fluid like water. “Enjoying the view?” a familiar voice pulls you from admiring your boyfriend. “Yohan?!” you say, surprised. “What are you doing here?” “Just grabbing a quick coffee before heading out to check the trails. Everything’s looking good after last night’s false blizzard alarm.” he laughs heartily, shaking his head at how ridiculous it must have been to announce a blizzard that never came. 

“Mind if I join you for a second?” he asks, his grin still in place. Before you can respond, he pulls the beanbag from across you and sits down. “So, no snowboarding for you today?” Yohan asks, signaling toward your boots, clearly unbuckled from the board. You smile softly, sipping from the hot drink. “I tried, but I’m nowhere as good as Jungkook, he’s the expert.” “Ah, I saw him earlier, the guy in full black. He’s good.” Yohan leans back, his eyes on you now. “Is he your man?” You pause mid-sip, his direct question catching you off guard. “Yes, he is.” “Seems like a real thrill seeker. How can you handle all that?” You bite your lip, unsure how to answer. "How can I handle all that?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow. "It's not really about handling it. I just let him be himself." You shrug, hoping to sound nonchalant. Was he only making conversation or was he trying to pick at your boyfriend? 

"Looks like he's having fun." Yohan observes, his gaze following the boy. "Yeah." you say, bothered by the way his subject was Jungkook "He's good at what he does." you whisper under your breath. “I wish I could go like that too, but being a ranger takes way too much of my time.”

“Plus it’s hard to get in touch with people, this is a resort so everyone just comes and goes, maybe once in a while I see familiar faces.”  He shrugs, slight disappointment leaching on his voice. "It must be tough, having to be away from family…” you stop for a second “and friends.” bitterness erupts in your chest, speaking so carefree about how hard it is to be away from everyone when you are about to do the same to the people you love. "Yeah, it can be. Sometimes I just wish I had a moment to kick back, you know?” He pauses, glancing over at you with a small smile. “But it’s also fun to meet the ones that come once in a lifetime.” You look at him with wide eyes, some blush creeping on your cheeks. You try to gather yourself, clearing your throat before taking a big gulp from your cup. "Sometimes it's the people you don’t expect that end up being the most memorable." he says looking over the slopes once again, seeing Jungkook rush down at full speed. “I think it’s time to go, your boyfriend is coming. Nice speaking with you, hope to see you later!” he says with a light grin and a wave, his eyes flicking to Jungkook, who’s now near the bottom of the hill. 

As Yohan walks away, you can’t help but feel a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you. You shake your head, trying to push the thoughts away, and focus on the sight of your boyfriend, taking off his goggles and helmet, looking seemingly pissed.

Jungkook stops just a few feet away, his gaze sharp, looking the way Yohan left. "Was that Yohan?" he asks, the words coming out in a low tone that sends unease through your spine. You blink, surprised at how quick he catches on. "Yeah, we were just chatting over some drinks.” His tongue pushes the inside of his cheek, and his hands drag furiously through his hair, clearly frustrated. "Jungkook, it’s nothing." you say in defence, trying to reassure him, seeing the jealousy spark up within, once again. "We were just talking, that’s all." He avoids your glance and exhales sharply. “I told you to stay away from that prick, he’s no good.” You have enough of his behavior. Pushing your feet on the ground you rise from your seat. “You’re just really jealous. He’s not doing anything to me other than chatting every now and then.” Sensing your anger Jungkook tones down "I don’t like it when other guys get too close to you." he admits through gritted teeth “Especially since I’m not around.”

You cross your arms over your chest, the drink you had long forgotten into the snow. “Forget it, it’s not like it will ever get through your thick skull.” you whisper the last part out of anger and frustration, but your actions only fire up the boy even more. “What did you say? Tell that to my face if you feel so bold.” His tone is low, dangerous, as he steps toward you. Tall frame towering over your much smaller one. 

“I said it’s never going to get through to you.” you snap back, refusing to back down. You were temperamental, such an attitude and behaviour leading to many hurts along the way. “I’m not some helpless girl who needs to be guarded from every guy I talk to, Jungkook!” the boy flinches at your words, clearly taken aback from you being so forward and mean. You can tell he’s hurt, but the anger in him isn’t entirely gone either. “I’m not saying you’re helpless.” he huffs ”I care about you, I care about what’s mine an…” but you take it further, cutting his sentence without a care. “Yours? Me? Do I look like some possession to you?” It felt surreal, the way he can easily talk about you like you were some kind of object he owned. 

Jungkook freezes, his expression dropping, the anger in his eyes faltering as well. His lips part, but no words come out at first, he must have realised the way his sentence came out. 

“Wait.” he starts, his voice rushed, panic setting in. “That’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean it like that.” You take a step back, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. “How can you say such absurd stuff?” He runs a hand through his hair, clearly fighting to say the right stuff. Silence takes over you two, you had nothing left to say while he had so much but didn’t know how to piece it together without starting a disaster. 

In the end you sigh, wiping away a few tears that drop before turning your back saying “Do whatever you want.” and leaving.

Jungkook doesn’t call out, doesn’t try to stop you, fueled by so many emotions, he only kicks his board away in anger before collecting himself for a few more runs down the trail, he needs to take his mind away.

And there he goes, once more and once more, until the sun goes down and the only lights are the ones from the post lamps. He was exhausted, burning his body throughout the day as never before. “This is the last one.” he says to himself, ready to take over the much quiet and deserted trail. The events from today playing over and over in his head, not letting him enjoy one second of his time. In a way he thought this was the only way of punishing himself over how he reacted and acted towards you. He loves you dearly, years of getting to know each other and build trust making him never forget to cherish and desire you. But he also has his flaws, the jealousy his body conserves makes him petty, only wanting you for himself, sick to his stomach when he sees other men pray over your pretty figure. So he does stupid stuff, hurts you and then hurts himself so he can be selfish once again and drag you back with pity. The boy sighs, not wanting to go down knowing in the end he will have to face you. He can already picture your worried face and the way you start to cry and beat him over the fact that he’s let himself push the limits so hard. And then he will drag you into his arms and cuddle you close, reminding you that you’re everything he needs and no other thing, not even air, is necessary for him to survive. Your presence and worry blooming pride into his soul. With clouded thoughts he goes down the snowy terrain, the adrenaline rushing into his body when the picture of you, waiting in front of the door for him, runs in his mind. He’s so lost in the delusion that he barely takes hold of the person in front of him. Panic sets when he finally notices, he tries to turn himself or, at least, get slower, but in vain. With a grunt he runs over the person, falling on top. He scrambles to push himself off. “Are you really that blind? Or are you just dumb!” an irritated feminine voice breaks down from underneath. He quickly rolls over, detaching the board from his feet. “I, u-uh” the boy stammers when his eyes meet the fierce ones of a woman. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to run you over.” “What were you even doing, playing a game of human bowling?!” her words were piercing through him, making the heat rise to his cheeks. The man quickly apologizes once again, his hand extending to help the young girl out.

She huffs, getting up herself and dusting her clothes to get rid of the snow. “Such an idiot.” “I said I’m sorry, okay! Are you hurt, though?” The woman’s gaze softens slightly at his question, but she crosses her arms. “No, I’m fine. Just...maybe watch where you’re going next time.” she mutters, the silence taking over for a brief second before both of them begin to chuckle. “It was stupid of me to do this, I should’ve gone down earlier, I don’t think my body can handle another slope. Not my brightest moment.” Jungkook takes off his helmet as the tension melts away. The woman adjusts her jacket and laughs lightly. “I saw you today, you are pretty good.” “You think?” she quickly fixes her goggles before rolling her eyes at his cocky tone. “Yeah, I didn't think you’d run into someone the moment it turns dark. At least you owned up to it and apologised.” “How can I not, you were ready to chew me out.” the boy admits with a stupid grin and a teasing tone. “Very good one, I’m Naeun.” she adds, extending her hand. “Jungkook.” he clasps her hand, shaking it. “Should we go down together? It’s only a few meters and we are at the bottom.” Naeun questions, raising her brows while looking at Jungkook. “Sure, but only if you have some good tips for my next rides.” she laughs at his boldness. “I work here as a trainer, you could say I’m a pro rider.” she winks playfully, setting Jungkook’s body on fire, leaving him speechless. “Pro rider, huh?” he manages to say, clearing his throat, looking away in embarrassment. “You’ve got the speed, but your technique could use some work. I can teach you some tricks tomorrow, I’m free in the afternoon since the kids only come in the morning.” “I’ll give it a shot.” he confidently responds, the girl only hums. “Think you can handle taking lessons from me though? Pretty boy.” Jungkook chokes on his saliva, coughing as the girl bursts into laughter.

“See you tomorrow, pretty boy. Don’t run into others until we meet, it would not work to snowboard with a broken leg.” Naeun teases before waving her arm, her figure disappearing in the distance. Jungkook watches her walk away before muttering an “wow” in disbelief. His worries dissipate and reappear when he gets inside, and instead of facing you with a furious face, ready to strike him down, he meets silence. 

“Y/N.” he quietly calls while looking for you. Not in the living room, bathroom or kitchen. So you must be in bed by now. Jungkook jumps over the stairs entering the room with quiet steps. Sighing when he sees you wrapped around in the blanket like a burrito. He gets closer to your face, looking at how puffy and tired your closed eyes were, guilt getting into him knowing he let you here cry instead of manning up, sorting things out. His chest tightens but as he leans closer, brushing some hairs out of your face. “I’m such an idiot.” he mutters under his breath when he gets into the bed, next to you. Even in your sleep, you seem to instinctively lean into his warmth, your body moving to stick to his side. Jungkook smiles, turning his body to hold you before drifting off to sleep. The morning air feels cold on his skin. He rustles around searching for your body heat, just to be met with emptiness.

His brows furrowed as he sat up, looking around for any trace of you. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing his face before waddling out of the bedroom, the cabin met with silence. 

He lazily gets dressed, his body aching from every spot after yesterday’s push over. Determined to make things right, he grabs his jacket and steps outside, eyes scrunching in displeasure when the white of the snow blinds him. The steps he takes feel heavy, legs unknowingly taking him somewhere through the thick fluff. Jungkook’s gaze darts around, scanning the territory for any sign of you, the heartfelt laughter of your voice being heard in the distance catching his attention.

He quickened his pace, body drawn to see you. As he rounds a small cluster of pine trees his gaze bores on your figure, small body trying to push a big ball of snow around.

Jungkook stops in his tracks, his breath clouding the air as he watches you, a mixture of amusement and relief on his features. He’s ready to take one step towards you, when Yohan erupts from behind a tree, his arms carrying another boulder of snow. Your laughter echoes again when your eyes meet him, surprise written all over when the man sets down the big globe. 

“Perfect, right?” Yohan asks, dusting off his gloves and stepping back to admire his work, a triumphant smile on his face. “Don’t you think it’a a little too big? How will we lift this?” You beam at him, cheeks and nose flushed from the cold. “Teamwork.” Yohan says with a wink, clearly enjoying the playful banter. Jungkook only looks from afar, his heart burning worse than his body when he acknowledges how easy can Yohan make you smile with joy. He knows he should walk over and maybe beat him up real good, roll him into all the snow your little hands collected and make him the snowman instead. But he doesn’t. Instead he turns around with a shaky breath and tears blazing his eyes. “Hey! Pretty boy, whatcha doing there?” Naeun's voice beams from afar, her body agitating to make her presence noticed. Jungkook quickly wipes at his eyes trying to fight back the smile Naeun just put on his face. He walks over to her just to see a hoard of kids going down in a line. “Your students?” he raises a brow flashing her a smile. “Yea, good kids. Smart too.”  she replies, a proud glint in her eyes. “They’ve been asking me for tips all day. Pretty sure I’ll have them doing jumps by the end of the week.” “I need to get my jumps sorted as well, I’ve only been falling until now.” the boy says, lighting up his mood, taking his head away from all the drama in his love life. “Don't worry, I'll whip you into shape soon.” she chuckles to herself “I’m done for today so if you want, grab your board and let’s hop on.” "Alright, let's do this," he says, his competitive side itching for the chance to show off, the frustration he had when he saw you with Yohan dissipating away in a blink. He grabs his gears and dresses up, and after 20 minutes he meets Naeun for the start of his training. And they have fun for like two hours on the slopes. Jungkook managed to land even some of the harder jumps, as well as actually teach Naeun a trick or two himself. “Man, you’re really good. A quick learner, I’m impressed.” the girl says breathless, letting her body fall into a pile of snow. Jungkook laughs trying to catch his breath as well. “You’re not bad yourself.” He says with tired but sparkling eyes. Naeun stares at him, her cheeks getting brighter and probably not from the cold or exercising. She opens her mouth to say something, but it’s interrupted by the loud growl of her stomach.

Now visibly flustered she dismounts from the boards, looking away embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t have time to eat today, the kids came earlier than expected.” “I’m kinda hungry too, didn’t have breakfast either and it’s launch time already.” he motions to his belly, rubbing it. "How about we grab something to eat together? I think we’ve earned it after all that snowboarding." Naeun hesitates for a second before asking, afraid she’s going to get turned down. "You know what, I think that sounds great." Jungkook replies without a care, making her face light up with relief. "Really? Great!" she grabs his arm, dragging him to the nearby restaurant. "I could eat a whole mountain of food after today." Jungkook says with a chuckle, setting his snowboard beside him as he settles into the seat. Naeun rolls her eyes but grins. "I’m pretty sure I could too. Ramen? Or some Tteokbokki?” She flips through the menu, clearly eager for something hot.

"Definitely ramen for me." Jungkook responds quickly, his mind already set on it. The two of them sat in their order, chatting away happily, enjoying each other's presence.

On the other side, you recharge your battery after yesterday’s fight with some snowman building alongside Yohan. “It was really fun, I hope it will never melt away.” Yohan chuckles ruffling your hair. You two grew pretty close this morning. Apparently he is 22 years old, and only an assistant ranger. He comes from far away to spend his time around these places since he enjoys nature. You two were not similar, but your personalities did match pretty well, his presence being one big breath of fresh air. And after exhausting yourselves all morning with collecting and rolling snow, you two decided to walk back to the cabins and get back to your daily lives, actually wanting to set things right with your boyfriend.

As the cabins come into view, Yohan suddenly slows his pace, his gaze shifting toward the restaurant nearby. “Hey…” he says cautiously, pointing his finger toward the large glass windows. “Isn’t that Jungkook?” Following his finger you look towards the restaurant, your heart halting in your chest when you notice him smiling and listening with so much attention to the girl from across. “That’s him, right?” Yohan asks again, showing mild concern when your face drops. 

“Yeah…” you reply quietly, your hands tightening around your gloves. Yohan studies your face some more, feeling sorry seeing you like this. “Who even is that girl?” you mutter. “Naeun.” the boy responds hesitantly. “She’s a worker here, teaching kids how to snowboard.”

You can’t help but have jealousy bloom inside of you, the way her bob sways when she laughs a little too much at whatever your boyfriend was saying, or how she offers a bite of her food for him to try with shimmering eyes. They looked at a real couple. 

“You okay?” Yohan’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you were not okay, you were fuming.

So that’s what he’s been doing all along while you were consuming yourself in the cabin, flirting so carefree with other girls. “I’m going there.” you say through gritted teeth, your fingers suffocating the gloves with your clench. Yohan’s eyes widen and alarmed he tries to stop you from making a scene. But you’re too far gone, already half a meter away from him. 

The door swings open with a soft jingle as you step inside and you don’t hesitate as you stride to their table, making your presence noticed in an instant. Your boyfriend jumps in his seat when he sees you cross your arms, glance throwing daggers his and Naeun’s way. “So this is your way of making up?” you ask repulsed. He only leans back, clicking with his tongue. “Ask yourself, or are you too caught up with Yohan?” Your jaw tightens at the mention of Yohan, anger flaring in your chest. “You’re just, absolutely the worst, trying to turn this shit on me when the only problem is you.” he raises from his seat, gaining the attention of the people around. “Hey, let’s not make a scene.” Naeun intervenes only to be immediately shut down. “I’m the problem now? Not you who’s been basically drooling over that Yohan guy.” you clench your fist on your sides, your body shaking with the anger he makes you feel. You bite your lips, wiping away your tears “I don’t even know what to do anymore.” you say in front of him. Jungkook’s expression softens in an instant, his heart skipping a beat. His own hands starting to shake thinking the worst all of a sudden. But you just shake your head, leaving him there in guilt and sorrow. For the next day you avoid each other, him sleeping on the couch while you drain yourself of tears in the bedroom. What a beautiful vacation.

The two of you took different paths all of a sudden, Jungkook spending his days on the hill with Naeun while you helped Yohan with everything you could. It was the recipe of a disaster, and it was clearly affecting your relationship. With now only 2 days to spare and a relationship that is about to collapse. It’s clear that something needs to change, but neither of you knows how to start fixing it.

As the snow began to gradually fall, Jungkook’s heavy steps could be heard. Another day on the slope for the snowboarder, now almost ending.

His body was a wreck, broken from a mixture of exhaustion, the leakage of your relationship and probably the discomfort of the couch, all piling up. He does not know if he can keep this up till the end of the getaway. His body might actually give up if he keeps this further. 

With a sigh, he pushes himself forward again, carving through the snow, until he’s met with the body of another guy. “Are you planning on dying tonight?” the sarcastic voice of Yohan ruptures through Jungkook’s ears. “Only if you go first.” he responds with the same token. “I genuinely feel pity when I look at you.” the older male starts. The younger one just rolls his eyes, bumping him with his shoulder in order to continue on his road. “I genuinely don’t know what she sees in you.” “I don’t know either.” Jungkook mutters, more to himself than to Yohan. “No, Y/N deserves so much better than an idiot like you, but she’s crazy blind when it comes to you.” he starts, finally letting his own thoughts out. “I don’t need a lecture from you.” Jungkook bites, his back still turned to Yohan. “You do, because you have her, and if you don’t want me to steal her away, then maybe you can start fixing things and actually appreciating her.” “You know, Y/N is an amazing girl, she’s kind and very loyal to an idiot like you.” his hands raise to grab the bridge of his nose in frustration, not believing that instead of taking the chance he gives it back to the very undeserving owner. “And she likes to build snowmans, and drink hot cocoa. She’s also super smart, knows more about the forest than I do, and she’s about to go to Harvard for human’s sake. She’s absolutely perfect, why do you waste her time!” he shouts in anger, eyes almost popping off from rage. “She’s not going to Harvard, she’s going to Yonsei.” a very confused Jungkook turns around and says. “Oh.” it’s the only thing Yohan can spit out, he’s messed up…big time. “Why do you say she’s going to Harvard, we promised we will go to the same uni.” Yohan lets out a slow breath, realizing how serious and delicaye this is. “I guess she didn’t tell you then…” ashamed he bites his lips. Jungkook turns back and makes a run towards the cabin, dropping his board and other gear in the process. He shoves the door open, taking you by surprise. You just got out of the shower and ready for a cozy night in bed. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he questions failing to stop the tears falling from his eyes. “What?” you ask in confusion. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re going to Harvard!” he sobs. You freeze, the towel around your shoulders slipping and falling on the ground. “I-I can explain, it's not what you think.”

“This is selfish even for you, Y/N. You promised…” 

You can’t mutter another word, tears burning into your eyes just as well and all you do is stay and stare at the man who’s going through the worst time of his life. “So this is really the end?” he asks, pleading for an answer, the raw pain in his eyes ripping your heart apart. His breath comes out shaky, his lips quivering. 

Jungkook stands there for a long moment, his chest rising and falling, and without another word, he walks away from you and back outside, shutting the door close after him. 

For him reality hits, a reality in which he couldn’t keep you close, managing to only push you away further and further. You also bite down on your feelings, mixed emotions running free in your body and head. He didn’t deserve all of this either. And your jealousies and misunderstandings only made you grow apart. Letting your body crumble on the ground sitting there for countless minutes, with tears running down your face, you look towards the door in hopes of his head peeking inside, and instead of the sorrowful eyes, a big and comforting smile to appear on his face.  Suddenly, the sound of the wind howling outside cuts through the room, making your eyes avert to the window. It’s already dark outside and the snow starts thickening. You stand up slowly, grabbing your phone to text Yohan, but just as the thought crosses your mind, you receive a message from him. “Be careful. It’s turning into a blizzard out there. Stay inside, both you and Jungkook.” A big lump fills your throat, your body moving before your mind has a chance to fully process anything. You slip on your boots, grabbing your jacket as you rush out the door.

The wind hits you like a wall, your eyes scrunching in pain. You can barely see anything through the thick snow, but you push forward, your heart pounding in your chest, you need to find Jungkook. This has escalated to unimaginable proportions. The storm outside perfectly mirroring the way you both consumed yourself for the last few days. It doesn’t take long for you to find him. His body collapsed in the snow. “Jungkook!” you shout, but the wind nearly swallows your voice. You rush and kneel next to his body, shaking him in desperation. “You idiot!” you cry, pulling him closer, wrapping your arms around, trying to warm him up. With all the power you have, you pull him onto your back, dragging him back to the cabin. 

Finally, after what feels like a lifetime, you make it to the door. You can barely catch your breath as you kick it open, throwing both your bodies inside. 

With all your remaining strength, your lungs burning from inside out, you strip him of his wet clothes, placing your head over his chest. His heart was beating. A rush of peace washes over you, with shaky arms you grab him close, cuddling him close to your warmth. “It’s going to be okay, you’re going to be fine.” you keep whispering while gently stroking his hair, holding him like your life depends on it. After good minutes you let go when you feel him starting to stir and cough. His eyes barely opening. “Am I in heaven?” “Only if you still think I’m an angel.” you reply thick with emotion. He raises his hand, placing it on your cheek, wiping away the tears you didn’t even know were falling. “The prettiest angel I’ve ever seen.” You sigh relieved, sticking your forehead onto his. Both of you lay there for some good minutes, before managing to drag him to the room and changing into comforting clothes you hold him close as he sleeps, promising yourself to never do this again. Morning comes slowly, the raging blizzard still ongoing. You wake up first, feeling the weight of your man on top of you, his chest coming slowly up and down. You stare at the ceiling for a few moments, processing how close you were to losing him. “Morning.” he says softly, his voice rough making you look back at him. “My body aches.” he whispers with a smile. “I’m sure it does, you also burned yourself these days.” his hands cup your cheek, lips sweetly coming closer to peck yours. “We are dumb, and we made a mess out of something that was supposed to be memorable.”  Jungkook's thumb brushes over the exposed skin on your chest, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’m sorry for everything, baby.”  “You don’t need to apologize. It’s also my fault. so sorry as well.” you whisper back to him. “Harvard huh?” he raises a brow questioning you with a tease. You laugh and shake your head. “Yonsei.” The boy rises from your chest, surprised eyes looking at you. “Are you serious?” “Yes, I already confirmed.” you shyly admit.

He laughs softly, throwing his back on his pillow and pulling you on top of him instead. “Why? This was a crazy life opportunity.”  “True, but…I realised after all this that no school or opportunity can make me go away from you. Yonsei is still top tier, I won’t lose that much, I won’t lose you.” Jungkook looks at you with stars in his eyes. “I love you.” he says in a heartbeat, you smile coming closer to him. “I love you too.” His lips slowly mold onto yours, moving slightly to kiss you so good. You gently bite his lip making him whine in the process, his moves growing eager. With a swing he pushes your body under him, lips attacking yours even more. “Fuck, I love you so much.” he whispers onto them, his fingers latching onto the first buttons of your pajama, taking them down. “I love you, and I love you, I can’t live without you, you drive me crazy Y/N.” “Then don’t.” you say softly once his lips start sucking on your neck. “Make me yours forever, Jungkook.” A low growl erupts from his chest at the thought. Claiming you as his, him being your first man and you being his only woman. His brain was fogging with desire. “Are you sure that’s what you want, baby?” he mumbles on your breast making you whimper. “Yes, please.” “You can’t back down on your words, just so you know.” he trails his lips lower, stopping at the hem of your pants, looking up for approval. You bite your lips half lidded, nodding simply as he complies. Jungkook takes a deep stare at your glistening pussy. “All mine.” is the only thing he says before he lowers his head to lick a long stripe through your folds. You moan loud, latching your fingers into his soft hair, pulling him closer to your warm core. “Mmm, my pretty girl, tasting so good.” he mumbles over your clit. The bliss becoming way too much to handle once the tip of his tongue starts moving rapidly at your entrance. “I’m coming, fuck!” you warn him, but he does not care, dragging his tongue through and out your orgasm. With shimmering lips he emerges from between your legs. His face just as fucked up as yours. “Should I stop?” he questions without the desire to actually do so. You shake your head, dragging his pants by the front. “No, I want you all.” you mewl, making the man lower his head whining. He turns around for a second, getting out to search through his suitcase. Coming back he throws an unopened pack of condoms next to your body. “You, oh my God.” you manage to say in disbelief. “Were you planning this all along?” you question, still not over your blowing height. “Maybe…” he manages to cockily say, slipping back between your legs, pantless. You reach out, grabbing his already throbbing cock, slowly moving to kiss him while stroking up and down. “Such a menace.” Sitting back down and spreading wider under him, you look at how he slightly struggles to unwrap the condom, his focused gaze and red hot cock, standing so proud and waiting ready, making you drool. “Need help, baby?” it’s not like you’ll be better, but maybe you can figure it out together, however his answer is a straight “No”. Once he gets it on, he leads his covered tip at your entrance. You hold your breath in anticipation and slight worry. “Tell me if it hurts, we can always stop.” he smiles and grabs one of your hands for some extra emotional support. You close your eyes expectant, feeling him slowly push inside and past the first ring of your walls before stopping. He stays still for a second before letting a small grunt pass out, making you open your eyes in worry. “Everything okay?” you ask concerned, staring at how his chest tries to even up, his breath rages as he shamefully admits “I came.”

You stare, blinking a few times, trying to process what he’s just told you, finally realising when he pulls out, the condom filled with white cream.

“Don’t laugh!” he whines seeing you hide your face into the pillow. You didn’t want to embarrass or make him insecure, potentially ruin his view on sex, but the way he was so cute and flustered, desperately trying to change the condom, made you grin in adoration.

“Let me help this time.” you say, pushing your body up, grabbing another foil from the box. You gently roll it over his member, while the man whimpers from sensitivity, his cock still hard as a rock even though he only came a few moments ago.

Once ready to try again, you lay back down and with a big gulp of air he pushes in, this time easing himself more and more, until his pelvis touches yours.

You can only grunt in pain and mild pleasure, but his reassuring touches and slow pace makes it somewhat enjoyable.

He slowly drags his member through your walls, until only his tip sits inside, gasping every time you clench around him, feeling like your tightness can rip him every second.

It sadly only takes a few minutes for you two to reach bliss, your nails clawing at his back and him deliciously and much easier stretching you out. Both of you come down your height with a big and loud moan.

Jungkook pulls out, looking proudly at his spill, sitting warm under the protection, while you try to catch your breath with happiness flowing through your veins.

“Is this forever?” he looks at you with love in his eyes.

“Forever.” you whisper back with just as much sentiment, sealing your love with a heartfelt kiss.

In the end, you realized that the world outside may change you, and challenges may come, but it’s these moments, with his eyes on yours and both of your hearts beating for each other, that really matter.

[oblivious-aro]

This was pretty much my exact same thought process a week before I made this post. I do get where you're coming from, but here's a question: when does the episode explicitly condemn Danny for cheating? Does TUE actually say “cheaters deserve to watch their family die”?

Furthermore, consider this line from the end of the episode:

Remembering this line was my turning point. Clockwork is a very wise character (he was literally just established to be omniscient right before saying this), and he’s the one teaching Danny the lesson TUE wants him to learn. If the lesson is supposed to be ‘cheating is bad’, wouldn't that be completely undone by having Clockwork immediately turn around and, by his own admission, and in those exact words, “cheat”? It’s a very prominent line with a lot of attention called to it, too.

“Cheating is bad” is the kind of moral you’d expect this kind of kids cartoon to make, so I think a lot of us preemptively filled in that blank without truly listening to what the episode was actually saying. I get it, I watched my sister struggle through the public education system while getting practically no help or sympathy from it, and I'm sure a lot of viewers were in the same boat as her. Academic pressure can be a sensitive subject, especially if it looks like a character is being chastised for struggling, but that's not what’s happening here. We jumped the gun. The text doesn’t look down on Danny for wanting to cheat. He’s in a difficult position, and being forced further and further into a corner is a feature of the story, not a bug. Danny's situation feels unfair so that the audience understands why he wants to cheat:

"OK! I get it! You're brilliant, I'm stupid, and I'll never be able to get as high a score as you."

"Guys, come on. I'd love to have spent the last month studying, but I was fighting ghosts! Besides, if you two think this test is so meaningless, why do you even care if I cheat? Why shouldn't I open this up and study the answers, huh?"

TUE’s stance isn’t that “cheating is evil”, it’s “cheating isn’t worth the risk”. Despite what Danny’s been led to (erroneously) believe, he’ll have other chances and opportunities if he does badly on a test, even one this big. There are people in his corner looking out for him (Mr. Lancer gives him to come forward even when he knows Danny stole the answers, and literally offers him a make-up test. Clockwork messes with the timeline just to tell Danny that he’s a good kid who deserves more than one chance), but getting caught cheating really could screw up his future. You could still say that’s an anti-cheating message, but the writers do show more sympathy for Danny than people give them credit for.

I don't think the concepts are that abstract. Everything that happens in the present is presented directly, and the main idea you need to get out of the future stuff (bad stuff happened because Danny got caught cheating) is pretty simple and clear. Everyone I've heard talk about the episode seems to get the basic idea.

As for all these events caused by Clockwork… yeah that's 100% true. But given that Clockwork is all-knowing, the master of time, and clearly sympathetic to Danny, it can only be assumed he’s doing what he can to help Danny. Omniscient/psychic characters are kind of weird like that. They make the stories they’re in a bit messy, and you can't really judge their actions by typical standards (ie. Garnet from Steven Universe). Same with time travel, but I won't go into much into detail, because this post is long enough and discussing rules around time travel can get overly technical, but the gist of it is Clockwork is on Danny’s side, but he’s working under some very specific restraints, either from The Observants or from the natural laws of the timestream.

Danny isn’t being taught that cheating makes him bad, he’s being taught not to place such unhealthy (and unrealistic) importance on his academic performance. Sure, this lesson isn’t explicitly stated in exact words, much like the themes in Teacher of the Year, but I don’t think it’s fair to say that the writers were just trying to condemn Danny in either intent or execution.

And as was the original point of this post, the episode really speaks for itself:

"Maybe that's all anybody needs…a second chance."

"I guess the future isn't as set in stone as you think it is."

"And here we are with you, a fourteen-year-old child, risking everything to save the people you care about. You've given everyone else a second chance. Why not you?"

Me for years: I can't believe The Ultimate Enemy is telling kids they deserve something as horrible as watching your entire family die for cheating on a test!

the Ultimate Enemy:

[flwrkid14]

Tim Drake Does Not Believe in Ghosts

Which is a problem because his boyfriend is a ghost. Or, at least, that’s what Danny keeps trying to explain to him.

Tim isn’t dismissive—he’s fascinated by Danny’s abilities and origin story. But ghosts as in “the dead-but-not-gone spirits of human beings”? That just doesn’t register for him. Tim has met aliens, time travelers, and gods alike, but actual ghosts feel like a line too far for his rational mind.

“It’s probably a dimensional thing,” Tim muses one night while calibrating a piece of ectoplasm-sensitive tech. “You’re a type of interdimensional entity made of ectoplasmic energy, and your world calls them ghosts because it’s a good linguistic match. Makes sense.”

Danny stares at him from his spot on the couch, one eyebrow twitching. “Tim, I’m literally dead.”

Tim pauses, turning his chair to face Danny. “Okay, but… not really, right? Because you’re still here. Like, functioning. Alive-ish. It's more likely that the portal exposure altered your molecular structure and tethered your consciousness to an ectoplasmic state. That doesn’t make you a ghost, Danny. It makes you… a transdimensional being, maybe?”

Danny sighs, sitting up and dragging his hands through his hair. “Tim, I died. My heart stopped. My body turned into ectoplasm. And now I’m stuck between being alive and… not.”

Tim’s expression softens as he sets the equipment down. “I’m not trying to invalidate what happened to you, Danny,” he says gently. “I just think you’re reshaping what it means to exist. ‘Ghost’ feels like the wrong word for someone as... tangible as you. You’re not some lingering spirit—you’re real. You’re you.”

Danny blinks at him, caught off guard. “Well... that’s kinda sweet, but it’s also wrong. I’m literally the definition of a ghost. I haunt places. I make ghost noises.”

“Sure, Danny,” Tim says, with a small, indulgent smile that sends Danny spiraling between affection and frustration. He reaches over to squeeze Danny’s knee. “You’re definitely a ghost.”

Danny groans, flopping back onto the couch. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m practical,” Tim corrects, leaning back in his chair.

“No, you’re dense.”

It’s not like Danny hasn’t tried to convince him. He’s gone intangible mid-conversation, flown through walls, and even pulled out his ghostly wail—though he only did that because Bruce was safely out of earshot. None of it works. Tim just treats it all like a fascinating science experiment instead of proof that Danny is, in fact, dead.

“Tim, what will it take for you to admit that ghosts are real?” Danny grumbles, covering his face with a pillow.

Tim hums, thoughtful. “I don’t know. Hard evidence? Like a case study? Maybe letting me run some tests?”

Danny lifts the pillow just enough to glare at him. “You are the case study!”

Tim gives him an easy smile. “Exactly. And the results are inconclusive.”

He’s still annoyed, but… well, maybe having a boyfriend who insists on understanding everything isn’t the worst thing in the world.

At least Tim cares enough to try. Even if he’s completely, utterly wrong.

[helpimstuckposting]

From Santa

Prompt: Magic | Rating: G | Wordcount: 2,957 | AO3 | @steddiebingo

Steve was seven when he found out that Santa did not exist. He tried, once, the whole ‘Santa’ thing. After hearing the stories from kids at school, he ran over to Melvald’s and bought a tin of cookies with his allowance before skipping excitedly home. Some of the kids mentioned feeding the magic deer, because flying took a lot out of them obviously, and Steve wasn’t quite sure what magic deer ate, but he left out a few carrots in the yard just in case.

He was so excited, setting out the cookies in front of the big tree in the living room and hoping he’d wake up to find a present underneath, just for him. Maybe it would be a cool Hess Truck like Tommy wanted, or maybe it would be an action figure, or comic books, or maybe his parents would come home. The other kids said Santa was magic, that he could do anything, so Steve wasn’t picky.

He went to bed excited and could barely close his eyes to sleep, but the other kids said Santa didn’t come if you were awake so Steve tried his very best. He finally fell asleep with the taste of ginger snaps on his tongue (there was a whole tin, and Santa had hundreds, maybe thousands of cookies every night, so he didn’t think Santa would mind one less).

He woke up to a spotless and quiet house, no puddles from snow on Santa’s boots, no bites out of the cookies, and no present under the tree. No parents either. Steve didn’t have any more cookies that day. He couldn’t bear it.

When his parents arrived a week later, Steve was greeted not by hugs and exclamations of how much his parents missed him, but by his mother loudly and forcefully demanding answers to why her yard was scattered with gross old carrots, drying and cracking and covered in mud from the melted snow. So he told her. He told her about Santa and how he wanted him to come, how he went to bed early like a good boy, and waited all night. How he didn’t show up.

She laughed.

It was cold and icy, like the shards still hanging from the gutters on their roof. She told him he shouldn’t be impatient for his presents — they were in the car like always — and really, Steven, it doesn’t look good for a boy to be so demanding, and the presents certainly weren’t from Santa because the man did not exist.

Santa didn’t exist.

So yes, Steve knew from a young age that the jolly man in the coat and hat was simply a lie — told to children to excite them and give them something to look forward to. He didn’t really get it at first; were the presents not enough? Was the week off from school not exciting? Did they not look forward to Christmas morning without the story of a man sneaking down the chimney? But he’d also fallen for it. He was so excited, he liked the idea of feeding the magic deer, and leaving a treat out for someone delivering gifts out of kindness. He liked the story, that a man with so much power wanted to use it to make children happy. He liked being thought of, liked being remembered by someone he didn’t even know, liked that it was a reward for being nice throughout the year.

But it wasn’t true. And that was fine, Steve tried to convince himself. He still got the presents, and he still got his parents, even if they were a week late. He still got a hug from his nanny, and his mom let him have the rest of the ginger snaps, and he didn’t even have to clean up the carrots from the yard.

His parents left again, and school started again, and it was fine.

It was fine, until Tommy came barreling through the door with his Hess Truck held high and the praise of Santa spewing from his lips, and Steve noticed that not everyone shared in Tommy’s delight. Most of them did, and a lot of them brought their favorite toy to school just like Tommy, but a few kids (maybe three) sat still in their chairs — like they could avoid any questions if they blended into the background. They ducked their heads and they sank in their seats, and Steve wondered if they also found out Santa wasn’t real.

But Tommy singled one kid out at recess. He dragged him out, to the center of the playground, and told everyone that Santa didn’t go to trailer parks, that the kids in Forest Hills didn’t get presents from Santa, because only good kids got presents, and how could they be good if they lived in a junk yard. Those words didn’t sound like Tommy, but he was always repeating things his dad said, copying him and taking his word as gospel.

The kid, scrawny with a shaved head and angry brown eyes, sank into his shoes. Not in retreat, not in a cowering way. He sank into his shoes like he was grounding himself, like he was making sure his footing was firm and steady, and he shoved Tommy right into the ground.

Of course, only then did a teacher interject, and only the boy Steve didn’t know the name of was dragged away to the office. Tommy angrily scrambled to his feet and spat at the ground where the kid had stood, remarking that he was right and the Forrest Hills kids were definitely on the naughty list, Steve, wasn’t he right? Did he see that? What a freak that kids was.

Steve rolled his eyes and didn’t say anything. He knew interrupting Tommy was just more hassle than it was worth, and Tommy was wrong anyway because Santa wasn’t real. He’d figure it out eventually, Steve supposed, but he wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

It was his walk home that gave him an idea. He saw the bus pass by as he trudged along, down the road and off in the direction of Forrest Hills trailer park. He wondered if that kid from recess was there, if he saw Steve out the window as he passed, if he really didn’t get any presents. He thought about all the gifts his parents gave him that were still packaged up in his closet because he had too many and he didn’t really like them all. And he thought about how much he wanted someone to think about him on Christmas, with no other purpose or desire but to make him happy.

So, with an inkling of an idea creeping its way through his head, he ran the rest of the way home and pulled out the phone book from the hallway table, as well as his yearbook from the previous year. There weren’t many numbers from Forrest Hills, but he did find the three kids from his class and a couple from the year above. He picked out which of his unopened presents he thought they’d like the most, and he wrapped them crudely in leftover paper he found in the study. He ripped off a few pages from the note pad by the phone, and wrote out in his best writing:

From Santa, sorry I was late

And then:

P.S. my elf wrote this

Because his best writing was still pretty bad.

It took him a couple days to plan and gather things, but in the dead of night — after his neighbors clicked off their porch lights — he piled all five presents into a little red wagon and tied the wagon to the end of his bike. He took off toward Forrest Hills, a little list of names and addresses crinkled in his pocket. He tip-toed around the dirt paths, freezing in fear every time his little wagon’s wheels squeaked, and placed the presents and the notes from ‘Santa’ on the doorsteps that matched his little list. He checked it twice, just for fun.

He felt lighter on the ride back home, and not just because his wagon was empty.

Steve was seven when he decided to become Santa himself.

It wasn’t obvious, the next day at school, and Steve didn’t do it just to listen to kids whisper about Santa visiting Forrest Hills a week late, but he did notice something. The three kids who had sunk low in their seats the first day back, who avoided talking to the others to brag about their presents, were no longer trying to blend into the background. They sat comfortably in their seats, and whispered among themselves, eyes twinkling a little more than they had a few days ago. Steve was ecstatic. He sat, buzzing silently with excitement as he tried to keep his face blank and neutral. Santa had to be kept secret, after all.

He did it again the next year, adding the newest kids to his list from the years below him, and saved up his allowance to get some cuter presents for the girls; some nail polish and art supplies, some coloring books and beads. This time he wasn’t late, and his handwriting had improved a lot from the year before (though he still blamed the elves for his wonky letters).

He had fun, learning how to wrap the paper around each gift, saving up his money to pick out presents he hoped the other kids would like, wondering what their faces looked like when they opened the door to find a present on their front step.

He was a little worried that the kids would be concerned Santa hadn’t made it inside, being magic and all, but he also noticed that none of the trailers had chimneys so maybe that was okay. He also learned that most of the kids in Forrest Hills did get presents, and he felt a little stupid for assuming they didn’t just from Tommy’s dumb comments, but he also knew they weren’t the fancy presents other kids got like bikes and new games.

He tried making his Santa presents a little more extravagant. After all, why would Santa give Tommy a brand new Lego set, but give Willie across town a pack of baseball cards? Steve just wanted to even the playing field a bit, knock Tommy down a peg or two when he tried humiliating another kid on the playground and that kid said Actually Tommy, I got the new Hess Truck from Santa, too! And Steve remembered wrapping it up, much neater this time, and almost getting caught on the stoop when a dog started barking at him. He muffled a giggle into his hand when Tommy floundered for something to say, coming up empty handed.

As the years passed and the kids in his grade stopped believing in Santa, he scratched their names off his list. He kept adding to it as well, though. He paid attention to the new kids in each grade, noticed if they had a little less than those around them, noticed if they were on the outskirts or if they looked a little nervous as the holidays drew nearer and nearer. He left presents for the Byers one year when he heard that Jon’s mom lost her job after his dad left. He left presents almost all over town, had the phone book highlighted with every address he wrote down in his notebook — a much needed upgrade from the crumpled piece of paper in his pocket. He wrote a list, he checked it twice, and he made sure to slip through the dark like a shadow, avoiding anything that might give him away.

He was always surprised when no adults tried to stop him. Surely, the stoop presents were well known throughout town by the time Steve reached high school, but maybe they didn’t want to know who was behind it. Maybe they wanted to keep the magic alive, too. Either way, Steve played a successful Santa for nearly two decades before anyone found out.

It was Eddie.

It was always Eddie.

Eddie, the boy who knocked Tommy clear to the ground that first winter. Eddie, the boy who made Steve want to help. Eddie, the boy who received the first ever gift from Hawkin’s own Santa, though Steve kind of hoped that was a secret he could keep.

They were putting up the tree in their apartment, the first Christmas they were spending together. Eddie had brought several old ornaments from the trailer, ones that he stole from right under Wayne’s nose because lord knows the man wouldn’t want to part with them if he didn’t have to — a collector, that man was. Steve picked up one that, at first, had been unassuming, a clear bauble filled with glitter. Hanging it on the sad twiggy branch of their Charlie Brown tree, however, he noticed a little piece of paper inside. It was aged and a bit crumpled, but not too shabby for how old it was.

From Santa, sorry I was late, it read in squiggled, messy handwriting, the wonky letters leaning to one side more than the other.

P.S. my elf wrote this

Steve stared at it for entirely too long, catching Eddie’s attention as he hung the last ornament.

“Wayne made that one, if you can believe it,” Eddie said, tapping the plastic bauble with the nail of his pointer finger. “I mean, not the note,” he clarified, “that was Santa.” He whispered the last part conspiratorially, as if letting Steve in on a huge secret. Steve felt like he was going to cry, suddenly, the tears pricking behind his eyes. With a start he realized, selfishly, that he didn’t want Eddie to know. He wanted to keep this mystery alive for just a little longer, like a parent too sad to let their child grow out of the world of magic and wonder, like it was too soon though the secret had been brewing for nearly twenty years.

Eddie wrapped a cautious arm around Steve’s shoulders, unsure of where his sudden teary-eyed expression came from. Instead of facing his questioning look, Steve tucked his head into the crook of Eddie’s neck and listened as the man regaled him with the story of his first ever gift from the Santa Claus.

That year, Wayne had lost his job as a trucker because Eddie had fallen into his lap. He couldn’t leave the kid all alone, had to stay and take care of him, and he was between jobs until the holiday snuck right up on them both. They had a tree, just as shabby and sparse as the one they currently stood in front of, but there was no money to spare for gifts. Wayne had apologized, and Eddie had been very understanding for an eight year old — after all, he had been learning not to rely on adults, anyway.

He’d gotten in trouble when the school year resumed, however, for shoving an insufferable Tommy Hagan to the ground during recess. Of course Tommy hadn’t gotten in trouble, since vigilantism was an under appreciated form of justice, Eddie declared. Steve snorted into Eddie’s neck, just imagining the ranting tirade the skinny boy with a shaved head must have gone on, trying to defend himself to the principal.

Eddie was furious as he got back home, pissed off at Hagan, pissed off at his parents, pissed off at the world. And then — what to his wondering eyes did appear — two days later, Wayne had opened the door to the shittiest wrapped present he’d ever seen. Steve bit his tongue. It was for Eddie, according to the name scribbled onto the wrapping paper, and the little note declared it was a lost gift from Santa.

“Like magic,” Eddie smiled.

Steve had no idea that was his first Christmas at Wayne’s, and he had no clue what that first shove on the playground could lead to. He could still picture Eddie’s scrunched brow as he glared daggers at Tommy, could still remember the way he sank into his shoes and grounded himself for a fight, like he was used to it, like he knew what was coming. He wished he could picture Eddie’s face as he realized Santa hadn’t forgotten about him.

“Anyway,” he said, startling Steve from his thoughts, still tucked away in Eddie’s neck, “Wayne kept that note, and I think he’s got the one from the next year, too. He’d saved enough money for a couple presents that year, but I think he was grateful for a little extra help.”

Steve pictured himself, a tiny little thing, curled up in the living room, all alone on Christmas Eve as he wrapped up presents and wrote out his Santa letters. He remembered feeling less alone for the first Christmas in forever, because he was too busy sticking too much tape onto glittery wrapping paper and worrying about not getting caught to care that his parents weren’t home again.

He thought about the bag full of presents, tucked away in the back of the closet so Eddie wouldn’t find them, and his list of kids he collected from the library’s giving tree. He had planned on sneaking out, planned to slip away from Eddie’s prone form and deliver the gifts alone, like always, but Eddie squeezed his shoulder and kissed the top of his head and he realized that he didn’t have to be alone anymore. Maybe this year there could be two Santas, delivering gifts to the children of Hawkins in the dead of night. Maybe this year he could have some help. Maybe this year, there could be twice as much magic as the year before.

—

Bingo Prompts

[alchemistc]

Part One

The loft is sadly undecorated. He'd tried, is the thing. Gone to the same novelty store they'd found on a random walk after a date, in late September, where Tommy had spent twenty minutes worrying a foam pumpkin in his hands while Buck tried to decide what sort of decor would fit his utilitarian loft.

They'd spent so long lingering over the sculpted white candles, Buck thrilled because Tommy's straight face broke every time Buck pointed out which ones looked like incredibly expensive dildos, that he'd felt bad enough to buy a whole set of them just to appease the girl at the counter who'd been watching them with a half annoyed, half wistful expression while Buck made a comment about dragons that had had Tommy biting his lip so hard he'd actually gone red in the face trying to hold the laughter in.

But every time he'd picked up a glass tree and thought how much fun it'd be to try to make Tommy go full Tik Tok Paramedic on him, every time he'd found something soft or plush enough that Tommy wouldn't have been able to resist running his fingers over it, plucking it up to toss it between his palms - well.

It wasn't like there'd be anyone in his loft long enough to really appreciate his decorations.

"Why'd you kiss me?" he asks, rounding on Tommy as Tommy takes a tentative step towards the kitchen.

"You were being annoying." At Buck's look, he elaborates. "Force of habit."

The finger comes up without any input from Buck, his voice tipping into that same flirty, bickering rapport he'd always pushed as far as he could. "I knew you did it to shut me up."

Tommy expression shutters. He recognizes Buck's tone. A few months ago that tone would start with a round of banter that usually ended with at least one of them with their pants around their ankles.

He looks spooked. He's staring at the island stool closest to the door like he's replaying the last conversation they had here, and Buck feels all his ire rear back up.

"You promised me clarity, Tommy." It's an accusation, and they both know it, because he looks ready to fucking bolt.

Slowly, he steps in. Half a yard closer to Buck, close enough to curl his hand over the island, and Buck is struck again by how goddamn unfair it is that Tommy looks this goddamn good in a suit.

"I did."

Buck's pretty sure he has some muffins he hasn't frozen yet that wouldn't actually damage Tommy, if he threw them at him.

"Can we...?" He gestures, vague as his half a question, and Buck wants to throttle him. Or kiss him again, which is -

"I need a beer. You?"

Tommy sighs. His grip on the corner of the island makes his knuckles go white. "Evan."

"No beer, got it." He swings the door open and doesn't wait for the reaction to either his snippy little rejoinder or the stacks and stacks of baked goods filling up the shelves of his fridge. He pops the cap with his back still turned, let's the fridge door fall closed. "Not like you drove here, but sure. One of us should be sober, I guess."

The switch back to Evan doesn't do anything for him at all.

Buck leans back against the counter and tries not to think about how he'd had this half formed idea of getting a real tree this year, finding some novelty kiosk that made those hokey ornaments for people to mark the years they'd been a family. He'd thought -

Tommy blinks guiltily when Buck catches him eyeing the way he fills out his slacks, a toe to groin drift of his gaze that makes Buck ache for when he could respond to that by dropping to his knees.

"That's a lot of bread," Tommy notes, eyes focused somewhere over Buck's shoulder.

"Why'd you break up with me, Tommy?"

Tommy freezes. Shifts from foot to foot. Sighs, and takes a few steps to the fridge, swings it open to grab a beer of his own. It's still the stuff Tommy likes. Buck's not picky, really, and it'd been habit to grab the six pack he always kept for Tommy.

The last five times he'd restocked.

Tommy takes half a step back to lean against the island, just off center from Buck, so they both have to twist their necks just a little to actually look at each other.

"You terrify me," Tommy murmurs, a few swigs in, when the silence is just starting to make Buck's skin itch. "Evan, I'm not -." He grimaces, frustrated. "I'm not some Super Gay who fights for justice and equality and the ability to make horrible television with Hummel doll sopranists."

"I don't know what that means."

Tommy's smile is wry. He'd had a running list of movies Buck's never seen on a note on his phone - every time Buck missed a reference, he'd added it to the list. They'd gotten through maybe twenty before -

"I led on a good woman for years because I convinced myself I could live my life ignoring a huge piece of myself. I hurled slurs with my buddies just to make sure no one noticed me. I fed into every toxic stereotype I could just to avoid anyone realizing I wasn't one of them. I'm not - I'm not some Gold Star Gay, paragon of the community. I didn't do shit. And even when I made the decision to let myself just be who I always was, I waited until no one in my life was close enough to me to question that I hadn't always been this way. I -." He winces. Shakes his head. "I run instead of fighting. I hide every time someone tries to see me. I'm not - this comfort you're so convinced I have I took at the cost of other people who were braver and stronger than I could ever be. Do you - is that an admirable quality, to you?"

Buck wishes they'd sat, like Tommy seemed to have been hinting at. He wishes he'd spent the ride over preparing himself for this, instead of stopping himself from crawling into Tommy's lap and getting a horrible rider rating for his trouble. He wishes -

"Do you think I don't already know all those things about you?"

It's - actually, it makes him a little furious, to think that Tommy spent six months thinking he'd successfully hid all those things from Buck. And - sure, he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about more than a few of those things, but like -

It wasn't like Buck didn't actively find ways to pry stories from Howie and Hen, even Bobby on occasion. It wasn't like Buck hadn't noticed the clipped way Tommy spoke of his past, his family, always tucking away more than he revealed. It wasn't like Buck wasn't well aware that Tommy Kinard had the capacity to be a total fucking asshole, if he wanted. Just because he'd kept it cool around Buck, made it just flirty enough for plausible deniability -

"You deserve better than that. Than me."

"Then be better than that, Tommy." It's not the best way to get his point across, but... "I've had multiple serious relationships, Tommy. I'm - I've been in love, before, and I've had my heart broken before, and I've had my trust broken before, and I've made people I love feel like shit. You weren't new and exciting, Tommy, we were - we were boring and domestic and it was the best six months of my life. It was what I -."

And this, of course, is where the words start to crest over, too many at once while his mouth tries to keep up and his throat is too tight to -

He swallows. Stares at his toes until his vision swims. Maybe those are tears, or maybe he's just stared long enough to go cross-eyed. His throat feels like he might be able to scrape a few words out

"I go too fast sometimes. I - I get scared I'm falling behind and so I clear a few hurdles too fast to catch back up and it -." Frustration rises through him as he remembers the way Tommy had levered himself up, spun away, broken things off without even a hint of the careful consideration Buck had grown so used to. "And you just - you tell me you want more than anything to be my last but you can't even give me the closure of a clean break! What the hell was that about?"

"Evan, I -."

"No! Okay, no. It's my turn to - it's my turn to be mad. It's my turn to - do you know how lonely I've been? How - how much I'm in my own head about where I went wrong, and what I could have done differently, and why you won't just fucking text me when you clearly want to? Do you know - do you know what it's like to think you've finally found something worth the humiliation of being known and then have it vanish in a single night? Over - you never talked to me about any of the shit you brought up that night, Tommy! You never - if you were so scared of not being enough to keep me interested, or so sure you weren't a good enough man, or so sure I couldn't possibly know what I wanted out of this, you could have saved us a hell of a lot of time and - and hurt by not being exactly the person I thought I could spend the rest of my life with! If that was all a - a smokescreen, some act, then why did you - are you actually so cruel that you convinced me we were falling in love while you had one foot out the door the whole time?"

Tommy's grip on the bottle looks painful.

"It's your turn to talk," Buck snipes, and he takes a little satisfaction in the way Tommy blanches. Just a little. Just enough to ignore how much he wants to rip Tommy's suit jacket at the straining shoulder seams and bite a bruise into that spot below his collarbone that even Tommy's undershirts hid well enough to keep the team at Harbor from putting him on blast for coming to work covered in hickeys.

"Six months with you was more devastating than two decades of hiding who I was, Evan," Tommy says, and it's a horrible opening that makes Buck feel like he's being drawn and quartered but he'd given Tommy the floor, so -

Tommy's eyes are a little too misty to call them anything but welling, and Buck hates it as much as it satisfies the pieces of himself he's spent weeks trying to pick up and glue back together.

"Evan, I lived with Abby for years and I don't think I saw her as much as I saw you. You -." He swipes a hand through his hair, and rustles one of his Superman curls loose to drape tauntingly over his forehead. Buck wants to bite him. He wants it to hurt. "You burrowed in and you just kept digging and I didn't take a second to question it until it was too late."

"Too late for what?"

"For me to take the cowards way out and leave before it hurt."

"Maybe I should have dug further," Buck snaps, and Tommy's gaze flits to his. Holds, for the first time all night. He's breathtaking in the best and worst way possible. He's spent weeks now trying to imagine anyone else ever making him feel the way prolonged eye contact with this man makes him feel.

"You did," Tommy admits, a confession that sounds like it's been gut punched right out of him. "You still -." Another grimace, Tommy pulling back, pulling away, hiding, running, and Buck can't -

"So what is this, Tommy? Is this - are you -?" He shakes his head to clear the cobwebs. Rears up, pushes off the counter, and Tommy's eyes widen like he's just now realized he doesn't have an easy exit. Buck just stands there, though. "If this is it, let this be it. If you don't want - if you're not willing to fight for this with me, tell me now. I know I'm - I know I'm a lot. I know I push for more when I'm scared. I know I'm overwhelming, and I sometimes can't stop talking to save my life, and I know I'm jealous and petty and - I know I'm not perfect."

Tommy sets his bottle on the counter beside him. Worries his lip between his teeth and rolls his jaw.

"You snore. You're a bitch sometimes and every once in a while it's not even charming. You hog all the covers and then you complain that it's too hot. You're vague about every single thing in your past that you think makes you seem like a bad person. You always think food needs more garlic and sometimes you're wrong. Sometimes when I spiral you just give me that stupid indulgent smile of yours and I know you stopped listening two reddit threads ago. When you're grumpy sometimes it takes everything in me not to pick a fight because you're such an asshole. You get cagey every time I pick at a thread you don't want to unravel and I - I hate it. I wanted a life with you and you couldn't stick around long enough to tell me why you were too afraid to go for it. So if - if you think I'm seeing you with rose colored glasses, or whatever. If you think I'm not - if you think being the first guy makes you too special for this to be real then just..." He sucks in a breath. Blows it out through his nose and feels the ache in his chest that's half remnants of his earlier panic attack and half fear that Tommy will actually turn and walk out at the end of this. "If you don't wanna fight for this I'll fill in the hole I dug as best I can and I'll leave you alone, okay?"

The look on Tommy's face is one he's never seen before. They've done this dance, or parts of it, at least. Tommy'd left him outside Micelli's, breathless and confused and aching, before he ever knew what it was like to hold his hand, to press his nose into the join of his neck and shoulder, to curl a hand in his hair or be filled by him - with attention, with affection, with the weight of his body and the stretch of his cock. Even then, this had felt different. Real, in a way the misty edges of his time with Abby, or the way Buck's puzzle pieces had never quite fit with Taylor's had never been. Even then, he'd just wanted so desperately to know and be known by Tommy that he'd taken his second chance and run with it.

"I don't snore," Tommy says, when the silence gets too heavy, and Buck - god, Buck has missed that tone, the snappy little tilt of his head, the blatant lie that passes over Tommy's lips so smoothly it's hard to tell sometimes that he's not being serious.

"I have audio proof," Buck says, and then doesn't immediately admit that he'd played it on a loop two nights into the breakup when he'd wrapped his entire body around the spare pillows on his bed and still hadn't been able to sleep alone in his bed.

"It bugs me that you spent days following scraps of information about a dead outlaw you convinced yourself cursed you, but you didn't even know what a Kinsey scale was."

This is - progress. This is... not Tommy bolting.

"I'm a two. If that's - is that, like, gay enough for you, or...?"

"You go too fast for me, Buckley," he says, and Buck knows that's a fucking reference to something he doesn't have context for just as well as he knows he's willing to spend the next decade waiting for the reference to pop up on Tommy's list. It's a terrifying, exhilarating thought and it's probably exactly what Tommy means.

"I can slow down," Buck says, and he tries to mean it. Nothing about how he feels about Tommy is slow.

"I don't want you to," Tommy admits, and then lets the silence stretch. They're two and a half feet away from each other and the distance feels like the farthest he's ever been from Tommy and the closest he may ever be again. "Living together, making a life together..." He swallows. "Marriage." That stops him short just long enough to recall how he'd blazed right past the I love you and straight into how he could keep Tommy. "You scare the shit out of me every goddamn minute of every goddamn day and I've never missed being terrified as much as I have since I walked out that door."

"I'm in love with you," Buck tells him, and Tommy blinks back tears. Takes a shaky breath and nods.

"That's what scares me. It's never - it's never been enough, before."

He'd sort of expected this to end with either the echo of his KitchenAid or a frantic rush up the stairs, but when Tommy meets him halfway all he does is sink his nose into the curls behind Buck's ear and breathe.

His arms drag Buck closer, his feet shuffle beneath them, his chin hooks over Buck's shoulder and he breathes, and breathes, and breathes.

---

"Your morning breath is rancid," Tommy tells him, palm centered on Buck's nose when he leans in for a kiss, pads of his fingers curled just slightly so that his hand is nearly encasing Buck's entire face. He wants to be annoyed but it's mind numbingly hot and Buck has missed it. Missed the snark, and the comfortable way Tommy will shoot him down when his head is in the clouds, and exactly how fucking large Tommy is.

"I'm so tired of avocado toast," Buck bats back, and Tommy is distracted enough by his need to make a face at that for Buck to swoop in and press a kiss to his cheek. He makes sure to make it a little wet just to watch Tommy's face crinkle in mock disgust.

He's in one of Buck's hoodies, is wearing the pair of his own sweats Buck had buried in the back of his closet in a fit of pique three days post breakup. He still looks properly debauched and Buck wants to drag him right back to bed.

Except -

"You don't have to go," Buck repeats, for the fifth time since he brought it up somewhere between peeling Tommy out of his suit pants and rolling out of bed to warm a hand towel under the sink so that Tommy could clean the cum off his abs. "But I need to shower and leave in like - twenty-seven minutes."

Tommy catches him by the waist and drags him in. "I won't be able to stay. You baked and I took as much holiday overtime as I could, but if you seriously want me there -."

"I seriously want you everywhere."

Tommy raises a brow.

"I mean that in a horny way and a codependent way."

Tommy snorts. "Good to know we're approaching this in a healthy manner."

"You told me not to slow down," Buck reminds him, and he gets a smack to his ass for his trouble.

"When Maddie pulls me aside, do you think she'll just slip me a poisoned glass of wine, or is she gonna get up on a step stool and make me stand there while she strangles me to death?"

"She won't do that." Buck leans in again, rolls a loose curl between two fingers. "She'll just stab you in the middle of the kitchen and warn my parents not to step in the blood."

"That's comforting."

Tommy takes a utilitarian shower in the downstairs bathroom and doesn't let Buck join him, and then rifles through Buck's closet until he finds all three of his button downs Buck had tucked away.

He has to borrow a pair of Buck's slacks and Buck absolutely does not mind that his ass is definitely gonna stretch them out.

With about seventy seconds to spare, Tommy presses Buck to his front door and kisses him just long enough to screw up Buck's meticulous timing - by the time he pulls back and gives Buck enough room to glance at the time on his stove, Buck knows they're gonna hit just enough red lights to make them late.

"I love you too, by the way," Tommy murmurs, and just this once, Buck decides not to be a brat about being five minutes late.

[biteyoubiteme]

lemon cake

lemon drop!soobin x angel cake!reader

‧₊˚ ⋅ synopsis In a world where everything is sugary and sweet, it is always fun to throw in a little twist. Quiet and tired Lemon Drop finds himself struggling to keep up with the day to day of single-parent life. Knocking on Angel Cake's door, begging for more than just help, might take care of two of his problems.  ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ warnings 🔞!!! fairytale au, lemon drop!soobin, angel cake fem!reader, slight spit kink, spit and cum as flavored aphrodisiacs, not really but chubby reader implied bc angel cakes body is soft and described as cake (skin indents and takes a few seconds to bounce back), mentions of masturbation (f! and m!), hand job, oral (m!rec), virginity loss, breeding kink, corruption kink, biting, cumplay/eating/snowballing, no protection, creampie, prob forgot some sorry

⊹₊ ݁ . wc: 8.9k . ݁₊ ⊹

၄၃ ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: new emotion- the aces an: ive never been so happy to post a fic before! this was so very fun to work on with my moots. im honored to have worked alongside some absolutely incredible writers- actually wild that you let me in on this when you guys are just so amazing im a little dazed lol. and it was so fun to read everyones fics early and go back and forth on little ideas we found would benefit each others works. this was one of the best things to do and im so thankful for mae and her mind,,go read everyone elses fics pls pls pls they are so so good. anyways love my friends <333 [m.list] [strawberry shortcake m.list]

Angel Cake loved a routine. Most things could be broken down into a neat list of checkpoints, a simple to-do list set up like the recipe for a good day. She would get to the store early, prep the tables, and make sure all the clothes were neat enough for when she opened the door. Sometimes a new shipment would come in and she would take her time checking off every box as she added the new items to her inventory. She loved folding all the shirts up, stacking them, lining them all so neatly, and keeping them color-organized.

It wasn't until an hour later that the store officially opened for the day, the sweet buttery scent from the town's shops wafting in through the doors. Angel Cake would sit behind the register looking through catalogs to pick out new things to order, helping customers when they filtered in and lulled around the shop admiring her cute displays. Almost an hour after opening is when her favorite customer arrived. “Strawberry!”

She loved to shop, everything she wore was hand-selected by Angel, perfectly picked out from the catalog with her in mind. Even the pale blue shirt worn by Kai was bought within these four walls. The sweet blueberry boy gave a shy wave, apple dumpling, strawberry’s little sister, running right past the two of them to her favorite section in the store.

“I brought you your share from the bake sale,” the cream-colored box carefully held in hand. It was one of the small things Angel looked forward to, the soft cake and cream, the first bite of sweetness. “They took a little longer than expected to make but they turned out so good,”

Kai flushed a deep shade of blue, the color only highlighted by the blue strands of his hair. Even Strawberry was blushing, her eyes tacking onto apple dumpling to avoid looking at angel cakes questioning glance. “Berry why don't you help Dumpling pick out a new school dress, I see angels gotten some new ones in,”

It was all it took for Kai to follow after the giggling child, leaving Angel and Strawberry alone. “You won't believe the weekend I've had,”

“Was it beomgyu? I hear he went to the market for the first time in a month and acted so bitter over Cherry’s jam,”

“No no nothing like that, I just- berry and I-” If strawberry could get any more color to shade her cheeks she would, her flush traveling to her ears, “We kind of…”

“You kind of what?” Angel Cake had known for years that Blueberry had a crush on Strawberry. They spent most of their time together, strawberry baking and blueberry strumming his guitar. It wasn't news to Angel that either of them had fallen into a relationship without much effort.

“We kissed and then it wasn't kissing it was- well-” she was struggling to find the right words, the images of the night before flashing in her eyes as she stumbled through the words. “It was so much more than kissing, the both of us were just insatiable and he just- he tasted so good,”

“Tasted? Like when you kissed?” Angel tilted her head as if that would tip the right information into the right spot for her to understand. Tasting someone did not necessarily sound all too fun, she could picture the underwhelming flavor of blueberries and didn't find it appealing at all. Angel was never really a fan of how plain they could be, although she would never confess that to Strawberry who couldn't stop herself from remembering the flavor as if it was spilling right back onto her tongue.

“Not exactly-” but it was all Strawberry could say before the two of you turned to the sound of apple dumping giving a shout.

“Meringue!” the little blonde, dimpled-cheeked child, giggling as she ran to meet her friend, exclaiming just as loud, “Dumpling!”

Everyone in all of Strawberry Land knew exactly how close the two little girls were. Spending hours joined at the hip, playing games, singing songs, and laughing enough to fill the sweetest of souls with the happiness shared between the two of them. Most times lemon meringue would find herself sprawled out on the living room floor, coloring with apple dumpling while angel cake and strawberry tested recipes in the kitchen. The two little girls being the best test testers, never afraid to say when they didn't like something.

Most times meringue was over because Blueberry was the perfect babysitter, teaching the girls how to play the guitar, and finding fun ways to keep them entertained. He kept them busy while Lemon Drop, meringue’s dad, was off at the local college teaching. Lemon drop soobin was always a bit bitter, the slight tinge to his personality always brought forward with his obvious sleepiness. His under eyes slightly bruised from the late hours he spent bent over books, grading papers, and chasing after his little sweet tart. Rumpled shirt half untucked from his pants, butter blonde hair mussed, and glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. Angel Cake could feel her stomach flutter at the sight, he looked unbelievably warm, the kind of person you wanted to slip into and cuddle up. His lazy blinking eyes tracked around the sweet cream shop, deeply breathing in the sugary air.

Soobin wanted a nap, the warmth of the shop hugging him the second he breached the doorway. It was the favorite shop on the strip, the scent pulling him in amongst the rest of the fruity temptations. Buttery warmth hinted with vanilla cream beckoned him in that direction every time. It was easy to get lost in thought and follow his footsteps right to your door without realizing it when he followed his instincts. With an excuse to step inside, he could settle his craving without shyly backing away from the doorway, tinted pink from the recurring embarrassment of finding the shop irresistible. It was okay when Meringue was with him, but when he was alone, gazing through the sugar glass window to see angel cake folding or hanging clothes, it was a little more awkward.

He wasn't particularly known as the fondest resident in strawberryland. He was known to fight back, the sting of his arguments leaving people with a bitter impression of him. It was something that was expected of the debate professor, teaching the people how to stand up for themselves and find the proper form to an argument.

Angel found him to always cut back the sweetness of the people who took his class, leveling out their need to please in a way that she knew people who didn't take his class found caustic. Working in such a closed shop she heard more than anyone else did in the street market, the stalls so open the voices carried over to one another. No secrets could be kept when the air picked up every sound, enough so that anyone could get burned when gossip traveled. It made her shop the gossip harbor, the walls soaking in the secrets enough so that it set the illusion that nothing would make it to the unknowing subject of conversation.

Just last week she heard the run-around rumor mill turning out stories of frosty puff and gingerbread taehyun. The occasional talk of lemon drop, he's just so sour, listing ways to prove someone wrong. Can't we all just get along and not fight? He must be teaching that poor sweetheart of his such nasty things.

It had made Angel roll her eyes. Who cared if he was giving the rest of Strawberry Land a backbone, it was needed in such a basket of softies. But Angel knew she was in the same boat, still a product of her environment, soobin had moved back after finding himself in a big city amongst the rich and decadent. Nothing like the homegrown bunch he had been born from.

Strawberry pinched angel's arm, her soft flesh dimpling at the draw to attention. It always took a second for Angel's skin to bounce back from a tight hold, easily squashed like the cake from which she was named. “It wasn’t just kissing it was- I don't even know how to describe it, we tasted each other in places I never thought to before,”

“Like where?” it felt absurd to think of putting angel's mouth anywhere besides the mouth of a lover, maybe the back of their hand. Strawberry fiddled with the loose ribbon she used to tie a bow on the shortcake box, tugging the strand until it neatly fell away. Even for her name, Angel had never seen strawberry so pink, from ear to ear as she swallowed. “Down there,” her eyes flickered down to Angel's zipper, popping up just as quickly to see if Angel understood what she was saying.

“Berry!” Angel whisper-shouted, shocked, and intrigued all at once. Angel wasn't too dense, she understood to some extent how it worked but never thought about their being a flavor, or even that your mouth was used for more than just kissing.

“Angel, I don't even know how to describe how good it tasted- better than this,” she held up the short plump cake, the sweet cream swirled on top and donned with a little strawberry heart. “And it's hard to taste any better than this, I mean it's more addictive than sugar,”

It seemed hard to believe, especially when Angel sunk her teeth into the light dessert. The warmth of the sponge still lingers in between the ripples of fresh fruit. The frosting was her favorite part, dotting her upper lip in the clear mark of overindulgence, the creamy whips making her softly moan.

The sound echoed in the shop, just loud enough to be heard under the giggles of the girls, talking out planned outfits to wear to school tomorrow, but it didn't catch Kai’s attention, only catching the ear of lonely Lemon Drop Soobin. He watched the way Angel wiped at her mouth, sucking her thumb clean before rolling her eyes, “Hard to believe,”

“Well, you won't know until you try,” Strawberry muttered, closing the box of sweets and tying the bow back up.

“Ew no, I hate to say it but blueberry is kind of a flavorless fruit-” Angel Cake started looking over to where soobin and Kai stood. Angel stuttered in her speech, cheeks flushed and shoulders straightening under Soobin’s piercing gaze. Strawberry not even noticing the hiccup, “No! Not with Kai, anyone else but him, I mean it, Angel, it was something else,”

Soobin quirked a brow, Angel's cheeks deepening in color. It didn't help that he was looking at her with her train of thought derailing in the direction of a lovely open pool of crisp lemonade. She could just smell the citrusy freshness that followed after him, the scent that made her perfectly aware of how different they were, and forced her to face the recollection that she wanted him in a horribly needy way.

She wondered exactly what he would taste like, obviously lemony, but would he be more sweet or sour? Fresh or bitter? He was the opposite of sweet little blueberry who was now clapping at the choice of dresses the girls had picked out. Lemon drop was a streak of verbena-washed clarity in a town full of half-baked sweet tarts. She wanted him to wash over her and teach her things she never would have known without him, open her pallet to more than just the sweets found in a shop just like Strawberry said. Because as much as she talked down on the people around her, she was just as close to them, still grappling with the niceties of sprouting out in a field of pushovers. But she had time to bake, enough so that she knew she wanted more than just a dollop of sweetness to finish her off. She needed the honesty of someone who would be just as bitter as she was sweet, someone who had left and come back, someone who knew exactly what she wanted and had achieved it themself. Only now all she could think about was what exactly you had to do for a taste of anything at zipper level.

“You know, I heard he's looking for a sitter, especially because Kai is helping me so much at the stand. It's great to have Dumpling around but sometimes following her and meringue is a bit much,” Strawberry added, looking right past soobin to where Blueberry was fussing over apple dumplings shoelaces.

“Really?” soobin had broken eye contact to tend to little lemon meringue, carrying the outfits she's picked out in one arm and pushing back his hair with a ruddy knuckled hand. She watched the two of them like she was memorizing her favorite recipe, taking the time to run over every line, connecting the little bullet point dimples the two of them shared. Even when Strawberry took her bunch with her out the door, leaving the two of them alone at her counter, she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her features.

“Don't you just love it, angel? It's so bright and pretty and does a perfect twirl when I spin,” meringue is nearly a spitting image of lemon drop, the only difference is her hair doesn't have the classic butter blond but a sun-washed version, the roots starting as a toasted tan color before fading out. But even then it's impossible to say they weren't related. Holding onto the edge of the checkout counter, hand still fluttering over the dress she's picked. Soobin reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet, grinning with the edge of his mouth as he watches her look up at Angel with her big brown eyes, dimple so deep in his cheeks she's sure she can swim in it. “It's perfect,” Soobin mutters.

For someone who has been pushed into the bitter pile by the rest of the town, Angel finds it hard to believe someone like the man before her could be anything but comforting. It was in his name, lemon drop, so nostalgic, in and of itself an acquired taste.

“I know you think that but I was asking angel,” meringue scrunched up her nose in that little kid's way, the light dusting of faded freckles tucked into the creases like a bunched blanket.

“I love it, would it even be a good dress without a perfect twirl? It's why I make sure all of the dresses in here look good when you spin,” Angel folds the items neatly sliding them into the gift bag. “Here you go,”

Soobin passes out the exact change, hand brushing angels as he lets the money go, surprised by the warmth radiating off the soft contact. Just as comforting as the alluring scent in the streets he shouldn’t have expected any less. Meringue is elated to be handed her bag giggling to herself as she thanks Angel and her dad. “Next time I see you I hope I can see your perfect twirl and soob- lem-” Angel stumbles over the right name, never really having spoken to him personally besides a few light greetings in passing.

“Soobin is fine,” his grin was a mix of amusement and arrogance that whipped Angel around in a mix of unrelenting jealousy. The ease with which he found himself walking through life was something angel only wished to grasp, and here he was, with confidence written into a single smile.

“Okay, soobin, if you ever need help after five I'm always free to watch her when you need work done. Strawberry was just telling me you could use a hand, "Angel says it so innocently, eyes blinking up to him in a way that he can't think about too closely. It takes everything in him not to look down at the very hand she speaks of, even if it's metaphorically. Because he could use a hand, specifically hers wrapped around him revealing the stress he was feeling in ways that he knew only she would be able to take care of. But it was too much to ask in a place like this, too much to think about when he was in public, and certainly too much when his child was waiting by the door for him to take her to her playdate.

“Thank you I could- um- really use the help,” he didn't know what to do with his hands, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose only for them to slip right back down, hand running through his already messy hair. It was the most angel had ever seen him discomposed, more like a stuttering school boy instead of a college professor who made school boys cower.

“Okay just let me know, you know where you can find me,”

It was only a few days later when soobin came by to ask for Angel's assistance, meringue hot on his heels as he shuffled into the shop right before closing. “I know it's last minute but Kai was supposed to take her to Strawberry’s house but turns out he cant and-”

“It's okay,” Angel chuckled, “I know the two of them have been so finicky with plans recently it's no problem at all. I just need to make sure the doors are locked up and then we can go,” and so they waited while you twisted the key, checking the knob twice, and shuddering from the slight chill in the air. In only a few days, Angel knew the gingerbread cobblestones would be coated in the thin glaze of the first frost, dollops of shoveled snow pushed up against her shop looking like misplaced piles of spilled frosting.

Lemon meringue ran ahead, her ballet flat-covered feet skipping between each stone like a made-up hopscotch map only she could see. Instinctively, Angel walked a step closer to soobin, bumping his arm with every other step they took toward his house at the end of the lane. Angel knew this was one of the reasons why he was accepted more than his other bitter labeled fellows, he lived in town, and went to town meetings even if he didn't add to the majority opinions. If he lived down on the outskirts, house kissing the woods or worse buried deep inside them, he wouldn't have a chance of being accepted in the way that he has been. It gave Meringue the best opportunity to find friends and build a relationship with the community before they ostracized her for being anything but sweet because of the name she carried.

Pushing open the door to their modest place, Angel was surprised by the solace laced into the brown woods and honey-colored accents thrown around the house. Stacks of leather tomes litter tidy shelves, and little dolls, and figurines placed by meringue are known only because of how high each item reaches. It smelled of freshly picked lemons and the cozy baked smell of warmed sugar. It was just late enough for the sun to be setting in through the gauzy curtains, casting the room in a warm golden glow. Angel wasn't to bask in the light, curl up like a kitten on the plush couch, tucked in with the knitted blanket tossed over the back like an invitation.

Meringue shot forward, hand wrapped around Angel's wrist tugging her past the living room and to the overly saturated room that could only belong to a child as happy as her. “Look, angel! I can show you all my princess dresses, we can do a fashion show!” She pushed open a trunk decorated like a little carriage fit to wheel a queen in, the lid holding back all the tulle and silk, only to now spill out like an overstuffed donut.

Soobin chuckled by the doorway, knowing exactly how his daughter was. She would keep Angel entertained enough for the both of them, needing no help to find something to do. It was the only thought in his head until he caught sight of Angel's wrist, his little meringue’s handprint still indented on her soft skin. He watched in amazement the way it slowly rose back into shape like a cake filling the tin in the oven. The thoughts running in his head were nothing to be proud of, images of his hands on the plush of angel tummy driving him mad. He had to turn away, leaving them alone in the room to focus on the stack of papers he had on the edge of his desk to dull the image of his handprint on the crease of her hip, dented into her thigh.

It was hard to get work done as is, his mind always fluttering through the tasks at hand, the next paper to grade, the time to pick up meringue, when he would be able to fit in the time to sleep. Now all he can think about is sweet cream dotting the smooth expanse of buttery cake. He hardly got through the few papers waiting for him, red pen in hand, staining the tips of his fingers as it sat motionless waiting for him to write. Hours passed, the soft laughter and chatting heard through the cracked door, every so often a glimpse of yellow and pink crossed in front of his field of vision, both angel and meringue going from the living room and back.

It made soobin happy to not worry that Meringue was having a good time, sometimes she fell shy especially when not near Apple Dumpling. She even had to warm up to Strawberry, only becoming her bubbly self when she and dumpling were alone, hiding behind her closest advisers in the face of someone new. But Meringue had always wanted to talk to Angel Cake even before they had known her to be best friends with Strawberry. His sweet lemony girl's eyes go wide and glittery seeing the expanse of clothes held in Angel's shop, do you think she gets to try on anything she wants? Look at how cute she dressed Daddy! I wish I had her job.

Every little comment only showed how deeply Meringue wanted to play dress up, more so play with Angel. He's sure even if he had asked for Angel to watch meringue in the shop she would have just as much fun as she was having going around the house now. He loved how comfortable Meringue found herself around Angel, and how Angel accepted his girl with open arms.

Time slipped past soobin without realizing the laughter had faded into hazy silence, more than half his stack of papers cleared through and marked to be returned to waiting students. He ran his fingers under his eyes, glasses set askew from the rubbing, sighing into the empty study. Soobin didn't notice Angel until he smelled her, that wonderfully delicate sweet smell of vanilla sweetness making him hold back his groan. He had thought it had only been the smell of the shop. The cake-like walls were made to pull in customers like the cinnamon scent of a bakery wafting through the streets, beckoning all who breathed in the air. Maybe Angel smelled so delicious because of working all day, the scent rubbing off and sticking to her hair, her clothes, her skin.

“She's fast asleep, knocked out almost as soon as she laid down to read her bedtime book,” Angel leaned against the edge of soobins desk, hip digging into the wood, fingers sprawled over the skewed pages of work. To Soobin, she was a dazzling masterpiece of messy hair and flushed skin, dress short enough for him to see the way the desk was pinching her thigh.

“Thank you,” the words twisted into a whisper from how dry his mouth had gotten just from looking at a single strip of skin. Licking his lips he tried to swallow, finding something to say besides the hollow echo of words he had managed.

“Oh it's nothing really, she's a doll,” Angel's eyes danced over the pages at her hand, “you lived in the city right?” even just the mention had soobins mind going back to the dull colorless house he found himself in when studying for his degree. It made him sick to think about raising meringue in a place like that, she was why he had moved back home, not caring how off-put the rest of the town was about him now.

“Yes, I did,” he sat back in his chair, one elbow still resting on the desk and the other laid out on the armrest. He was half turned to angel, lower because of sitting and now having her tower over him. And her damn thigh was there right next to him, knuckles twitching to brush over the smooth expanse of skin.

“Did you like it?” Angel had tipped her voice down to a whisper, the dim light needing the change when she had decorated the question in enough hope and worry. It wasn't as if Soobin’s answer would change much, she knew she dreamed of a city out there bright enough to blind the thought of home but it was hard to leave when it was all she ever knew, she didn't even know if she truly wanted to leave.

“I liked it enough,” soobin bit at his bottom lip, worrying over the question. It was as honest an answer as he could give. “But it wasn't home, not for me, not for meringue. There is nothing quite like the comfort of home,”

“Like this place you have here,” Angel lifted her chin, looking around the packed study with even more books and bobs. “That couch of yours looks too cozy not to nap on,”

“You should see my bed,” it was a quick response, one that didn't pass the filter connected to the bit of his mouth that kept him from saying anything embarrassing. “I- I didn’t mean it like that-”

But Angel didn't get the innuendo embedded into the words, she just nodded, “I should, I bet it's just as warm as the rest of this place, you have it at just the right temperature,”

The lack of sleep was making him loose, his finger drifting out to press right into the outside of Angel's thigh, pushing against the soft plush of her skin just enough to feel the heat from her, “you sure it's not you? You seem to keep warm enough,”

“Oh no, take it from a cake to know exactly when they walk into the right level of warmth. This is perfectly cozy,”

“You do feel…lively,” soobin drags his finger up Angel's thigh, reaching right to the hem of her dress, stopping right before it could go any further. The line he had drawn was like the roadmap to the realization that he should not be touching her like this. But it was incredibly hard to remember his mind when he felt this hazy; drunk off the lack of sleep and the sweet smell of sugary cake.

Angel felt the pad of his finger slip right up her spine, sink into her nervous system, and cloud her mind. Even if he had pulled away, flexing his hand as if that would sink the feeling of her warm skin into his palm, she could swear the touch was tattooed right there forever now.

She couldn’t forget it, not on the walk home, not when she showered the day away, not even when she climbed into bed. The moonlight slipped in through her lacy curtains, the soft gleam pulling her mind right back to the study. Her finger pressed right where she remembered him, circling the spot like she was tracing the shape of the yellowing moon on her thigh.

Even the moon made her think of him, a little lemon drop in the sky, her bed warm enough to picture what it would be like to snuggle up in his. Her fingers were too soft and not at all how she needed them to be to pick up her illusion. Pressing them harder into her thigh she felt an ache between her legs, centered right at the heart of her.

Angel had never felt such a pull to touch herself, not until the butter blonde boy was there just out of reach, so close to palming her thigh instead of just using the tip of his fingers. She wanted his hands all over her, they didn't even need to be warm, she just needed him. Needed his finger pressed on the tormentor's bud that called for him. But for now, she would have to make do, her hand pushed into her shorts feeling along the wet seam of herself never knowing that her body would crave someone so bad without even having tasted them like strawberry had said.

But the only thing on her mind was lemon drop, her hips rolling into her hand, the soft moans drawn out from a mouth so unfamiliar with this sound. Her body told her the way to move, and where to seek peak pleasure until she was a gasping mess, creaming around her dainty digits. Angel Cakes' new discovery was a calamity, highlighting a deep desire she didn't know she could hold within herself. A catastrophe; soobin had been the one to knock a tray of glasses to the floor, already so recklessly close to the edge until one push sent them shattering, angel couldn't clean the glass fast enough, left to never be the same again.

Soobin was no better, he was a cracked vase slowly leaking out in drips of sun-melted ice, he had to hold it together for work, for home; hastily wrapping fingers around the seeping seams only for his thoughts to pour out between his fingers. Because angel cake was spinning in his living room, twirling around with his daughter, giggling until they were a dizzy pile on the floor. His office door just cracked as he caught sight of angels' sweet lacy white panties, clinging to the curve of her ass. If he had knocked over the tray of her sanity, angel cake had taken a hammer to his fragile vase, smashed it until it was powered, and easily passed as dusting sugar on the treats in strawberry’s shop.

Soobin felt his addiction take its toll on him, every night the image of angel cake washed over his sleeping mind until he was reduced to nothing but a needy muddled mess of thruming joints. He couldn't go one day without his hand wrapped around his cock, working his wrist until he was spilling dribbles of cum onto sheets that needed her in them. It was worse when his order from strawberry came in, Kai handing the box over right at the doorway, picking up Meringue for her sleepover with Dumpling. The smell of the shortcake filled the house as soon as he shut the door behind them.

He was embarrassed to have such an obsession with angel cake, sure that she would cringe away from his desperation for her. So desperate he was standing in the kitchen with one hand down his pants and the other digging into the soft sponge of one of the cakes just brought over. The cream and crumb squished out between his fingers as he came, moaning into the empty space until the sound reverberated around him, the smell of her dancing around his body. He wanted her, needed her.

Soobin didn’t even remember the trip to Angel's shop's door, his nose pulling him along the crumb-dotted cobblestone, leading him right to the front doors, so willing to be eaten by the magic-laced girl inside. He could see her through the frosted glass windows, the closed sign turned to signal the end of her shift but she was leaning over the stand of shirts, fixing them in the way she wanted, her end-of-day routine. He could smell her, that buttery sweetness addicting, making him delirious. He wanted to sink his hands into her warm flesh, hold her tight enough so that if anyone saw they would know it was his hands that had been on her, that she was his, and his alone.

He pushed open the unlocked door, the ding of the bell signaling his entrance, that glance over her shoulder ruining him once and for all. “Hi! Did I forget I was supposed to come over tonight? I can pack up real quick or she can stay here-”

“No, blueberry took her- i- i-” he was struggling with the words, a stuttering fool standing in the middle of the shop like he'd come to beg. And he had, he would beg her till the end of his days to have one taste, to have her tear into him like she was peeling back the layers of his sanity. “I need you,”

“Oh?” she tilted her head to the side, the pure look of innocence smashing into him like a wave. He wanted to stain her, fill her up, and call her his.

Soobin struggled to swallow, every breath filling his lungs with her, she was right there on the tip of his tongue. “I need you,” his hand reached down to the bulge sitting against his thigh, hard, thick, and weeping for her.

If Angel Cake hadn't spoken to Strawberry about the zipper-level kisses she would have been confused beyond belief. But it had been all she could think of since then, what it would be like to lick up his body and know exactly what it was that made people so addicted. Because she was grappling with the fact that she was already falling down the rabbit hole of need, to finally taste him would be like crashing right into another world. “I don't know- I don't know how-” she was flushed all over from the confession because she didn't want him to leave, if he needed her she would mold herself to fit and fix any problem he had. Her lack of knowledge wouldn't hold her back, if he was a teacher she would be his best student.

“I'll show you, tell you everything you need to know,” he snapped the button on his pants, undoing the zipper releasing enough pressure to let out the most sinful noise angel had ever heard. She could feel her panties flooded with the cream that had been leaking from her for days now, always tied to the thought of him. If he felt even a fraction of how she did, Angel would make sure to take the best care of him.

“O-okay,” Angel Cake could feel her mouth water, her thighs pulling together, needing them closer to relieve the ache she felt. Soobin locked the door behind him, tugging Angel to a spot behind a rack of clothes. “Here get on your knees in front of me,”

Angel was fast to listen, sinking to the ground in front of him, hands placed neatly on the tops of her thighs, looking up at soobin with those wanting eyes. Just thinking about those plush lips warping around his cock was taking him out, and watching the tip of her tongue wet her mouth was excruciating. Soobin reached into his pants, pulling out his veiny shaft, the sheer size making Angel's eyes widen.

She didn't know what she was expecting but she was not expecting to feel empty at the sight. The top of him was shiny with a layer of leaking pre-cum. Soobin ran his thumb across his slit collecting the wetness to swirl around the tip, moaning at the way Angel's mouth fell open without realizing. “You can touch it,” he nodded, watching how Angel was gripping her skirt, crinkling the fabric trying to hold herself back.

Angel lifted a shaking hand, fingers brushing the side of him, amazed at the softness so much that she wrapped her hand around him and gave a tug. Soobins chest rumbled, his hand reaching out for the rack next to him, the hangers clattering from the force of his grip. “Sorry-”

“No, no you're doing good, just like that, slow and easy,” he nodded, biting back his moan when her wrist flicked again, “you can squeeze a little harder,” he whispered, his free hand finding itself around hers, showing her just the right amount of pressure he was looking for. Soobin's hand guided Angel's until he was using her hold as if it was his own, speeding up the pace.

Angel watches in amazement as soobins head rolls back, his brows pinched as he whimpers. She's never wanted to taste something or someone so bad, and now, with him right in front of her, she can't resist the temptation for what it is. Angel sits up just enough so that she can press a sweet kiss to his tip, a string of pre-cum still connecting her lips to him. Soobin lets out a shocked gasp, watching the way she licks her lips clean.

The taste is subtle, the sweet and sour mixed together only to draw Angel back in for more. She didn't even know what she was doing, compelled by the flavor to envelop him fully, the flat of her tongue licked up and around to collect more of the addictive fluid. Soobin’s knees go weak at the warmth of her mouth, hips jerking to try to chase the feeling, “Oh fuck just like that,” his hand still holding hers, working over the rest that wasn't pressed into her mouth.

Angel cake moaned around him, his bitter lemon taste mixing with the sweetness from his pre-cum. She wanted to swallow him whole, take more of him down. Soobin couldn't even think anymore, Angel's mouth trying to work further down, her hand stopping right at his base. Angel hollows her cheeks, sucking him down like its instinct, soobins groan taking over the silence and joining the soft wet noises. Soobins restraint breaks, overwhelmed by the way her mouth molds to his cock so perfectly, his mind working to imagine it's her waiting cunt. She takes him down so deep he can feel the back of her throat. It's enough for him to wrap his hands into her hair, fingers wrapping softly around her skull as he fucks into her mouth without warning. Angel moans, the vibrations going straight up his cock and making his balls clench. Her hands reach out for his thighs to keep herself steady, tears welling in her eyes, loving the newfound sensation.

Angel Cake doesn't know what to expect, lashes fluttering as he loses himself in the feel of her. It's a shock when his thrusts become erratic, his body trembling with a deep groan, sweet lemon cream spilling on her waiting tongue. Angel tries to swallow, unable because he keeps going, fucking his cum right into her still willing mouth, spurt after spurt following until he has to pull away. Angel gasps, sucking in gulps of air, mouth a mess of dripping lemon custard and saliva.

If she had thought the pre-cum had been addicting, she didn't know the effect the real deal would have on her. Blindly, she wiped the corner of her mouth, licking the cream she'd collected, humming as if she'd just taken a bite of the richest lemon bar. The sight and sound made soobin impossibly more obsessed with her, fingers going down her cheek, pulling her attention to his awestruck expression.

His head was clearing but it didn't stop the infection of her as it slipped well past his mind, into his bones, into his soul. He had heard about how easy it was to save a fruit tree if you cut away the rot fast enough; right at first sight. Angel cake had taken hold of every thorny branch on his tree and twisted herself in the sparse foliage, so deeply intertwined now that he wasn't sure there was ever a time when it would have been an easy snip to rid himself of this fever.

Angel Cake's face was a glistening mess of wetness when he squished her cheeks with one large hand, her pouting lips so kissable and pink. “Look at you,” a surrealistic sigh caught on the edge of his tone. He leaned down, needing a taste of the two of them, the perfect combination of bitter and sweet, angel's sugary spit mixed with his lemony custard making him powerless. And when he pulled away, letting go of angel's cheeks, he watched the way her lips stayed puffy, the illusion of dimples still there as her skin rose back, flushed a petal pink. “Did I do good?”

“You did perfect,” soobin brushes his nose along the bridge of hers, his eyes closing, breathing her in. He wanted to tear into her, squish his fingers into her, and memorize every little action that brought out a sound. But in his post orgasm clarity, he noticed exactly what he had done. He had tainted this perfect angel, filled her with more than just bad ideas but had fully gone in and let his uncontrollable emotions take over.

Even when Angel Cake had gotten home later that night, she couldn't stop licking her lips. She was lying in bed, wriggling in the sheets trying and failing to find a comfortable position let alone sleep. Her hand was stuck between her legs, on the verge of tears for nothing working to cave in a hunger that she was only now painfully aware of. She hated that she was alone, hated it more than she knew the feeling of his hands on her, knew that those long fingers would have been perfect to fix her problem as easily as she had fixed his.

The hunger triggered a compulsion within her similar to the one soobin experienced on his walk to Angel’s shop, her feet carrying her through the streets, half-dressed in her silky lace pajamas. The lemon drop moon cast its path down the cobblestone to Soobin’s front door. The cold unfelt against Angel's warm skin, and when soobin opened the door he could see the steam rising off of her heated body. The haze of it mixed with the backlight of the moon made her look like a true angel waiting right at his front step, outlined in the glow. She hasn't even come in shoes, her thick socks slouched around her ankles, her shorts pinched at her waist, and one tank top strap down her shoulder. He could see her pebbled nipples through the thin material, his lips pursing at the thought of wrapping around them. “Angel?”

He couldn't tell if this was one of his dreams, the kind that left him reaching out in a bed she never saw. “I think I need you now,” she couldn’t find it in herself to be embarrassed by the words, not when she had seen him in the same state, begging and just as needy. Soobin rushed to pull her inside, ready to get her wrapped up in something to keep her from freezing if that was possible for someone so warm. He hardly had the door closed when she was pulling him closer to her, wrapping her arms around his neck, tugging him into her space. She needed to have him in her mouth again and soobin knew he wasn't going to turn her away. His hands slid down her back, fingers digging into the soft skin, groaning into her sugar-sweet mouth, the sound catching in the back of her throat, and she swallowed it down greedily.

Angel didn't know what to do with her hands, her mind shutting off and following their natural way, slipping into his hair, the strands tangling between her fingers, his lemony sweet kisses taking over her mind as he slowly kissed her. But Angel was impatient, whining and rubbing her thighs together.

“What is it baby? Tell me,” he kissed down her jaw, intoxicated by the smell of her, so much stronger when she was so hot against him.

Angel reached down for one of his hands, guiding it like he had done for her, pushing his fingers until they slipped right against the silk of her shorts, “it's so achy,” she whimpered, “and all I can do is think about you,”

She was like a freshly wrapped gift left on the front step, the label perfectly signed with his name and his name alone. A sinful treat he couldn't wait to sink his teeth into. He dragged his fingers along the seam of her, the silk already spotted with wetness, “you want me to take care of you?” the husk of his voice was thick in her ear like syrup.

“Please- please,” her nods are erratic, hips rolling trying to keep him right against her tender clit. Her pathetic cry echoes in the living room when he pulls his hand away. But he doesn't keep his hands away for long, dragging her to his room, having her fall to his bed, right where he's wanted her. Her knees fall open, the heels of her feet digging into the mattress. She's a vision of her namesake, mewling when soobin hooks his fingers into her waistband and takes down her panties and shorts, sliding them down her legs and peeling her socks off, leaving her bottom half exposed.

Soobin is caught at the sight of her gleaming cunt, leaking arousal the color of royal icing, creamy and sweet, looking as if she had been stuffed full of him already. Nothing could keep him from getting a taste. He fell to his knees like this was a place to beg for forgiveness. But he wouldn't be sorry, not after he started his feast. Soobin licked a bold stripe up from her entrance to clit, groan ripped from him with only one drop of her. He wrapped his arms under her legs, holding her open and watching how his fingers dented her flesh, the plush of her spilling between fingers itching to stay there and mold her as his forever.

Angel let out a sharp gasp the second his mouth was attached to her aching center, thighs trying to snap shut around his head, held in place and forced open as she arched her back. Her fingers twisted in the sheets, her breathing only coming out when she slipped out moans. He was devouring her, licking her clean like he was enjoying the frosting before the cupcake, sucking deeply on her clit just to watch her tremble.

Soobin does not care about the mess he's making of her, face dripping with his Angel's cream, moans of delight vibrating against her puffy clit. He doesn’t even notice the way she's writhing beneath him, only that he's now faced with the most delicious meal he has ever had. Moaning into her, slurping up all that she has to offer trying to pull forth more of her sweet cream. And he didn't have to try hard, not when she needed him so bad already, the bubbling building in her lower belly so newfound and yet never before so intense. Angel cake feels like a balloon ready to pop, one deep long suck on her clit has her seeing stars, her orgasm washing over her as swiftly as a needle prick, causing her to come undone. The gush of her arousal keeps Soobin’s mouth right against her, his persistent licks only pulling him in more.

He was a desperate mess, working away at his pants, rutting into the mattress as if that would curb his insatiable hunger. He needed to be inside of her, filling her up with his lemon custard, fucking her senseless until she was begging to stay right here in his bed and never leave. He wanted that, to keep her as his, not just press his hand into her thigh and leave that lasting mark. No, he needed to claim her as his in the best, most lasting way. “Do you want me inside you Angel?” he pressed the flat of his palm into her pelvis, relishing in the way he felt himself sinking into her skin. “Right here, filling you up, making you mine-”

Angel had never felt so empty, not until he pointed it out, solving a problem she never thought she had. Her mewling response was a mix of pleas and whimpers. She didn't care what he did so long as she could have him near, and if he could fix the burn in her belly he could devour her just as well as tear her apart.

Soobin lifted Angel's legs enough so that the backs of her knees were slotted against his inner elbows, one hand reaching down to guide his dripping cock to her waiting entrance. Angel does not expect the pressure of being pushed into, her gasp caught on a half-open mouth of pure bliss. Every slow tantalizing inch stretches her out, her body instinctively clenching around him trying to suck him in. “Relax, baby,” he whispers, his hand sliding up her stomach, up under her tank top to reveal her breasts. He rubs at her skin, soothing her tense muscles until he's sunk all the way into the hilt, her body melting and molding around his.

Soobin waits, catching himself from letting go, letting their bodies adjust to each other. But Angel is impatient, rolling her hips, not even realizing she's trying to fuck back onto him, only that she needs some kind of friction. But soobin is slow to pull out and even slower to push back in, eyes connected to the spot they meet at. Her body was like clay beneath him, so easily shaped into the perfect temptation. Every drag in and out coated his cock in her cream, mesmerizing him, numbing his brain.

Angel could tell the difference in him, that split second that makes his eyes go hazy, hips snapping into hers making her body ripple from the force. “you were fucking made for me- do you feel how deep I am-“ he’s slamming into her, the lude sounds of their wetness mixing; echoing with their moans. All the veins in his hands straining from the hold on her soft sides.

He was pressed so deep into her she could feel him hitting a spot that made her hips sink, her hands reaching out to hold his hands, needing the comfort not knowing what was building inside her. so much more intense than when it’s her fingers or even just his mouth. “soobin im-im-“ she can’t even find the words looking for something that she didn’t know existed until just now.

“we can cum together- I’ll fill you up make sure to pump you full so you know exactly where I'm going to put our baby,” he moves his hand down to press his thumb to her clit, triggering her to jolt, the walls of her pulsing around him before she’s falling apart.

Angel's body is a tightening mess, her back arching, cheeks flushing as she comes undone for him. The pull of her body to his makes him shudder, his whole body falling against hers needing to be close, needing to smell the vanilla sweetness of her skin, sinking his teeth into her shoulder as he holds back his strangled moans. Slow languid thrusts push his lemon custard cum back into her, needing to make true to his promise to have her full of him and only him. Needing to mix together their cream for the perfect bake.

Neither of them knows what's happened to them, only that they are a tangle of limbs, wrapped up tight enough that Angel can still feel the pulse of his cock deep inside her, still pumping into her never having cum so much in his life before then.

Angel feels boneless when he pulls away, her whimper making him chuckle. “I just need to see your creamy pussy again,” the sight to behold better than before now that he knows the wetness is more his than hers. His fingers dragged through her sensitive cunt, collecting the mess to shove it back Into her, fucking her on his fingers for a second. He lifts his fingers in front of them showing Angel the sheer amount of cream coating the digits. “If I could bottle this flavor I would,” he licks them clean before leaning over to shove his tongue into her mouth, needing her to taste what he’s found as his new obsession.

Angel swallows down the cum, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer, twisting legs and burrowing in closer. “you taste sweeter than I thought you would,”

“Did the thought of it keep you up?” he asks, nose brushing along the column of angel's throat. “because thinking of you while being alone in this bed is hell, I need both of my girls under my roof to feel complete,”

“both…” the sound of the word was heavy in her mouth. Not in an uncomfortable way but in a way a piece of chocolate sat on her tongue, melting and sweet, craving to place another one as soon as it was gone.

“Both.” The finality of the word is better than the buttery sheets he’s pressing her right back Into.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @no1likemybbgcharlie @chasingthatjjunie want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! thank you so much @izzyy-stuff for helping edit this for me ily ily ily @thetxtdevil and @beomiracles for betareading this a bit, but special special thank you for mae who gave me a lot of these ideas in the first place, her perfect mind came up with the cake like reader with indenting skin and helped with the conversation with strawberry and angel <3

[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 25: Mindbreak

This piece happened to fit perfectly with the little AU that I was creating, so I slotted it in with minor edits. Showtime and Be Sure of it are the other smuts that fit in this AU you can find them on my masterlist. This piece does have some Natty but is mostly focused on Tsuki. Also gangbangs for them

Length 3K

Tsuki gangbang, Natty x Mreader

Tsuki rushed into the building, passing staff. She went to the dressing room to change into her work attire, a skimpy light blue maid outfit: the tiny skirt she wore barely covered her ass, and a g-string pulled high, her top revealed the bottom of her heavy breasts and just about covered her hard nipples. Coming out the door quickly, she walked over to the lobby and moved straight to the staff member behind the counter. “Hey, sorry I’m late. Is there any chance you could recommend me to more customers tonight? I really need the money.”

“Tsuki…be honest, you’re on another buying spree, aren’t you?” Tsuki scratched her ear; of course, the staff knew she had trouble saving money. 

“Yeah,” She admitted shamefully. “C’mon, please, recommend me. I just a lot of work.” Tsuki pleaded, knowing her bills were going to catch up with her. 

“There is another job you can take, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Did you see the flyer on the wall in the dressing room?”

“No, what flyer?” 

“It’s this year’s party job. You know the one, right? Yuna took it last year.” Tsuki nods, and foggy memories of it come to her mind.  “Well, anyway, it pays a lot of money—more than you can make in a week here, no offense. I just mean with time limitations and everything. No one has taken the job; you can think about it.” Tsuki thinks about it and tries to bring up more memories of what the party entailed. 

“I think I’ll take it.”

“Tsuki, are you sure you want to take the job? These tend to put a lot of stress on the worker doing it. You’ve seen how Yuna was left after going through with it.” Tsuki bites her fingertip as she considers her options. Her spending habits caught up with her, and she needed to make a lot of money fast. The usual visitors at Tinkerbell wouldn’t be enough this time. She also knew how Yuna had changed since she had volunteered for the job, and it wasn’t just her. Tsuki remembered hearing the stories from the older workers; some women were driven crazy and were kept in a special part of the building, the dungeon. Tsuki thought these stories were meant to frighten her, but now she wasn’t so sure. Yuna took the annual party job last year, and Tsuki had barely seen her since then. “Tsuki, you don’t have to take the job, you know. As much as they don’t want the previous girls they’ve had, they’ll choose one of them if they have to.” 

As Tsuki continued considering her options, another worker entered the building. The staff quickly turned to them and said, “Hello, Natty. Are you coming in for a shift?”

“Yep! It’s about that time!” She chirps before noticing the Tsuki. “Hi Tsuki! What’s up?” 

The staff speaks for the young woman, “Tsuki is considering taking the party job. You’ve seen the notice in the dressing room, right?” 

Natty nods, “Yeah, I was considering it too. It sounds like fun.”

Hearing that, Tsuki spoke up. “I’ll take the job,” She says nervously. 

“Aww, well, I hope you have a good time, Tsuki.” Natty pats her friend on the back before heading to her room. 

“Alright then, Tsuki. I’ll put you down and make the arrangements; good luck. You better prepare yourself; I’d suggest taking the day off today. I’ll send you an email to give you the details when everything is set.” Tsuki gives the staff a slight nod and heads on her way, making it home and sitting on her couch, wondering what she just signed herself up for. The young woman waited for the email to come, starved for information on what exactly the party would entail. Soon enough, it arrived. “Tsuki for the party job will take place in a week. You’ll arrive at this address at seven p.m., wearing just a coat and nothing underneath. There will be about fifty guests, so I recommend taking an energy drink or something beforehand so you have the energy to last the entire time. BDSM is the theme here so you will be tied up. That is all the information I have, good luck.” Tsuki read and reread the email, which must’ve been a hundred times before everything finally settled in. She took a deep breath and laid back on the couch. 

The next few days, Tsuki spent time with herself, trying to prepare mentally for the event. Once she got the money for the job, she paid her debt, having just enough to have some money left over for herself. When the day arrived, she went to the location, a large hotel. She was dressed as told, wearing just an overcoat with nothing underneath. Tsuki felt embarrassed to be walking around wearing nothing underneath. It wasn’t like at Tinkerbell, where the only people who saw her naked were the people she was trying to get to come in. Tsuki quickly walked to the hotel’s event hall and gave her name, being led inside and to the back. It was a rather large room, one that had a raised stage in the back. She was led there behind heavy curtains and given instructions. 

The man leading her to the back watched her carefully. He was part of the group the event was for, “Thank you for accepting the job. I hope you’re able to have a wonderful night like the past workers have. Now, if you don’t mind, I can take your coat. We need to get you set up. Oh, and take this. It is a slight aphrodisiac. It always helps get people in the mood.” The man hands Tsuki a small bottle; it looks like water to the young woman.  Tsuki didn’t dare drink it yet but handed over her coat. The young woman covered her body, using one arm to cover her breasts while the other was used to cover her slit. This only lasted so long as the other event workers got Tsuki ready to put her in the bondage she’d have for the night. Tsuki looked at the bottle she was given earlier and gulped it down before letting the men begin. 

They began at her arms, moving them behind her back and tying them together tightly. The men tied the ropes around Tsuki's body, attaching her to a horizontal pole, making sure she was well supported. Tsuki answered their questions whenever they asked about how it felt. They worked together to make sure she was comfortable. They finished the process by spreading Tsuki’s legs, making her do the splits, and tying her legs to the pole. Tsuki looked down, embarrassed to see her legs spread so wide for everyone to see.

Strung up, Tsuki looked around; she saw all eyes on her. She wanted to shut her legs but couldn’t. When she tried to, she felt the ropes dig into her skin. She felt vulnerable, knowing that everyone was able to see her cunt. With her hands tied behind her back, she couldn’t even cover herself. “Welcome everyone to today’s event! This evening, we have Tsuki providing us with her service. We all know she has a very expressive face, so let's see what we can do with her tonight.” Tsuki’s body began to turn away from the audience, the rigging moving her back and to the side, making her face a curtain

. “Tonight, on top of Tsuki, another lady is joining us. Please lower the curtain!” The curtain drops at the announcer's command, and behind it is Natty. She is tied up in the same position as Tsuki, her tits hanging out just the same as she remains naked. The rigging begins to move, and the idols face each other; Tsuki stares at her friend, the slightly older woman, who is already wet. 

Natty smiled at her friend, waving her hand as much as she could. “What are you doing here, Natty?” Tsuki was nearly yelling, but the announcer made it impossible for anyone in the crowd to hear her. 

“I wanted to do this, so I asked the staff if I could join you.”

“Haven’t you heard of any of the stories of the older girls?”

“Yeah, there are a few, but I can handle it. I’m a strong girl.” Natty replies, a smug smile on her face. Tsuki worries for her friend, but any concern is brushed aside as Natty smiles at her. 

The announcer begins the event with a yell that catches both women’s attention: “Let the show begin!” The women turned their heads toward the crowd, watching as a small group moved up some stairs toward them. 

“Let’s get started!” Natty chirped. The women were blocked from each other’s line of sight as their group surrounded them. The men ran their hands over their bodies. In Tsuki's case, most found a place touching her legs and ass. The small woman couldn’t keep her voice hidden; the moment one of the men’s hands ventured to her sli,t she let out a loud moan. This only excited the men; they began to pull out their cocks. Some jerked themselves off to the sight of the young woman bound in the air; others became more proactive. Tsuki continued to moan as she felt hands move across her tits, squeezing the large mounds. They tugged and pinched her nipples while others sucked on her neck, marking her. The young woman squirmed, the pleasure becoming greater as the aphrodisiac she had taken really took effect. The moment she felt one of the men’s cocks rub against her slit, she groaned. Her body ached for it, wanting it to fill her. She looked at the man in front of her, barely able to read the name tag on his jacket. “Leo,” it read. The young struggled to keep a clear mind; she could only think about all the hands touching her. She gasped as Leo pushed his cock inside her, the first one of the night. Tsuki moaned his name as he held onto her waist and pushed himself deep inside her.  The young woman continued to moan as they ravaged her; they turned her head and kissed her as she began to lose herself to the pleasure. 

What brought her mind back for a moment was a man playing with her ass pushing a slick finger into her asshole. She could feel him rubbing her walls as Leo continued thrusting in her cunt. Tsuki grimaced, whining as she was made to cum, covering Leo’s cock in her slick. He continued thrusting, though, getting close to cumming when one of the men behind Tsuki pushed his cock against her puckered asshole. “Wait! I’m not ready!” Tsuki tried to shout, stopping midway as she felt the man’s cock spread her ass apart and push into her guts. Tsuki screamed out, cumming again as she became absolutely full. Like dominoes, this led to Leo cumming inside her, pumping her womb full of his cum. Tsuki’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, and her tongue wagged in the air as the rush of pleasure fed into her growing need for more. Another man, Eli,  quickly replaced Leo, ramming his cock into Tsuki. He kissed the young woman as he thrust into her. 

Tsuki could feel her entire body tingling as the hands never stopped moving on her; they squeezed her tits harder, played with her clit. It was all too much for the young woman who was cumming near constantly. The only thing Tsuki wanted was for this pleasure never to end. 

Natty was getting the same treatment on the other side of the stage. Her body was being ravaged much the same, but she was faring better. It was your turn up now, and you slid yourself into Natty’s sloppy cunt. Four men had already cum inside her tight cun,t and now you knew why. Natty moaned loudly as you began thrusting. She leaned in, begging you for a kiss. You gave her one, exploring her mouth as she flexed her muscles and tightened her walls around you. You could feel your partner Al’s cock rub against yours through her thin walls. It was a wonder you hadn’t cum already, considering the young woman’s skill. You reached up and grabbed at her breasts, the heavy mounds filling your palms and overflowing as you squeezed them. Natty’s moans grew louder as you began, and Al moved in sync, punishing both her holes at the same time. Natty broke the kiss, throwing her head back as her walls clamped down on you and Al. The young woman made both of you cum. You poured your seed into her cunt while Al did so with her guts. You stayed inside her, though wanting to go a little longer. “Oh? Ready to go again?” Natty muttered as she took heavy breaths. You nod and begin to thrust into her again, drilling her womb with every movement inwards. 

“Oh, god, yes. Fuck me up.” Natty groaned as she felt your cock ram against her cunt.  Her moaning got louder as someone else took Al’s place and stuffed her ass. The Thai woman licked her lips and struggled against her bindings. She wanted more; she wanted every cock for herself. Your thrusts, combined with the other man’s, were enough to satiate her for now. 

Natty was able to keep her mind on herself as she felt cum pouring out of her with every thrust. This might not have been what she imagined tonight to be like, but the constant sex was a highlight. You came inside Natty a second time before finally pulling out. Your cock was replaced by another soon enough, and you watched as Natty continued on. 

When you turned to look at how Tsuki was doing, it was like night and day. Natty still had her wits, while Tsuki was completely mindless. She just begged for more cocks, cum was pouring out of her holes, puddling on the floor below her. You head back to your seat now that you are finished and begin to relax, watching as the two women are continuously fucked by your group. You chatted with the others, discussing everything from the women to the news and what was going on in your lives, all the while watching the women continue to moan and cum. It was amazing to see Natty hold up so well after a good two hours of nonstop sex. Tsuki hadn’t done so well; she was slumped over and passed out from the looks of it. The men had gotten messy on her side of things and painted her body with their cum, coating her legs and chest. You, along with the other, left once the event was over.

Natty got a closer look at the young woman. When the crowd had disappeared, she saw Tsuki’s tired body. She managed to hear the woman mutter something. Once she was unbound, Natty wobbled over to her friend and found Tsuki muttering about needing more cock. Tsuki tiredly reached for Natty, her mouth open like she was expecting one, only to shut when she saw Natty’s messy cunt.  “Tsuki, are you okay?” Natty asked, shaking the young woman back and forth gently. Tsuki could only mumble the same word over and over again. Natty asked a staff member for help and got it together. They went to one of the bathrooms, where Natty helped bathe the younger woman, cleaning her body. At the time they were bathing, Tsuki slowly came back to reality. 

Returning home, Tsuki didn’t feel the same. She felt like something was missing, her hand wandered down to her slit, and she began to play with herself. She moaned loudly, memories of the night floating through her mind. Tsuki rolled to her nightstand, pulling out a dildo and ramming it into her cunt. It triggered something in her; she came almost instantly but continued to pump it into her cunt. The dildo wasn’t enough, though; she needed to feel hands on her body, touching every part of her. Tsuki reached up, grabbing her tits and pulling on her nipple. She moaned loudly, cumming on the dildo again. As soon as she pulled it out, Tsuki sucked on it, filling her throat with the toy as she fingered herself. She could hardly sleep as the feeling stayed with her. 

Tsuki was barely able to make it to Tinkerbell, and the need to touch herself almost overcame her. The staff stopped her when she came in, noticing her behavior. “Tsuki, it’s good to have you back, but you’re acting like Yuna after her time. We have a place for you,” he says before leading Tsuki down the spiral staircase she had used so many times to get to the dressing room. The staff continues down, though, heading two levels deeper. He pushes in a door, and instantly, he and Tsuki’s ears are flooded by the sounds of moans. “Welcome to the dungeon, Tsuki, or as the ladies in here would call it, paradise.” Tsuki takes a step inside; it is a long corridor full of large open cells, like a prison. As she looks around, she sees some old coworkers being fucked, a look of pure bliss on their faces. Tsuki can feel the arousal inside her growing. She thought she would fear the dungeon, but the more she saw, the more she wanted to stay here.

“The system is a little different down here than it is up top. You’ll still get paid and all, but it’s a flat rate. It hard to keep track of things when you girls get so cock hungry.” The staff sighs, “Well, join any cell you want. You’re free to move between any. Chase your pleasure; this is your welfare system of sorts.” Tsuki took in these words, rather than risk fucking strangers at random on the street; it was better to have the workers come down here to get their energy out. Tsuki said as much to the staff member, who nodded. “Exactly, the boss saw it a few times and made this place. Anyway…go, enjoy yourself. The girls will tell you everything you need to know.” The staff member placed his hands on the small of her back and pushed Tsuki forward before closing the door and leaving. Tsuki could feel the dampness in her panties growing as she listened to the sounds of the girls moaning. Seeing a group of men standing by around another worker, she walked to them and offered herself up, stuffing herself on their cocks. Tsuki felt content, her mind melting into pure bliss as she felt herself become full again.

[keferon]

Hmmmm. New infection: Blurr/Swerve

Your writing has radioactive qualities but in a comic book super powers granting kind of way.

Merry Christmas from me to you.

———————————————————————

There was single spark of Christmas in the deepest dark of space. Far, far from the warm fire of Earth.

With the sort of warmth reserved for children’s holiday specials, Swerve and Jazz exchanged small improvised gifts.

Prowl also participated, with all the stone cold concentration of a bomb defusal.

Turns out, there was a decent amount of dropped shanix down various vents that Jazz had gotten a hold of. Swerve helped him pick up a gift for Prowl the next time they stopped at a trade depot. It was some of the most fun he’d had since waking up.

Prowl. ALSO, required Swerves help in picking out a gift for Jazz.

Never, never, never again.

Later, Swerve would watch as Jazz helped Prowl loop a striped scarf over his shoulders and across one half of a chevron, laughing and smiling all the while.

Swerve wasn’t jealous. No no no. He really was happy for them! He was! And maybe a little sad.

Prowl nodded at something Jazz said and took his leave to head back to his, their hab suite. Jazz jogged over to where Swerve had been slowly been drilling a pen into the drawing pad Jazz gotten for him.

“So you going to go see them?”

Swerve abruptly dropped the pen and flattened a hand over the sketch he’d definitely not made of the person he totally wasn’t thinking about.

“Whaaaat? No, no I’m sure they’re fine. Not! That I was still thinking about him! THEM.”Swerves optics darted rapidly from Jazz to the drawing, making sure any evidence was fully concealed.

“Besides, I’m not gonna leave you alone on Christmas Eve.” He said a bit more seriously, remembering Jazz’s current isolation. Unlike him, Swerve could visit Earth whenever wanted.

“Actually, Prowl was talking about some silent holovid earlier, so we were going to watch it tonight. It’s cool man, go check on your boo.”

Jazz looked, well, happy. And his field (wow, Swerve was still mind blown that humans had those the entire time) reflected that.

Swerve did a poor imitation of nonchalance. “I mean, only if you’re totally sure.”

Jazz put his hands in his pockets, rocking on the balls of his feet a little, “Hmmm, you could always join Prowl and I for the holovid. You know, the one we’re gonna watch together? Inside his room?”

HA!

Hahahahhaha!

Oooooh Swerve saw THAT trap and did not need the stress induced nightmare fuel that’d surely come from third wheeling on a date with Prowl.

The Christmas Shopping was enough.

With Jazz’s blessing, and Prowl’s glaring, seriously he could feel it through the wall, Swerve wished them a Merry Christmas and went to his room. Just a little bit quicker than necessary.

———————————————

Blurr’s hospital was one of those really fancy ones that looked more like a hotel room from the right angles.

There were simple decorations, extra furniture like a nightstand and a small couch, as well as fairly thick curtains framing a large clear window.

Christmas lights were strung up outside, adding to the ambient glow of the city lit up below. Snowflakes drifting through the air fuzzed the details. Made everything a little soft.

Swerve zeroed in on closing the curtains out of habit.

“Leave th-“

Swerve shrieked, nearly clipping through a wall with how hard he jumped.

Lying on his good side on the couch, Blurr merely blinked at him slowly before finishing his sentence.

“Leave the curtains open, please.” He pulled a blanket that didn’t look thick enough a little more securely over his shoulder.

Blurr didn’t resume looking at the falling snow, instead he took Swerve in with a half lidded eye.

“So are you my ghost of Christmas past, present or future?”

Swerve was uncomfortably reminded of how he looked at the moment. Colorless, grainy and mostly transparent. Slowly, he turned up the sliders on his holoform. “Heh, uh, option D? None of the above?”

Blurr didn’t have an IV in, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still on some other form of painkillers. Either way, he seemed a little more aware than what Swerve was prepared to deal with.

So why was he moving to get Blurr a better blanket?

Eh, he probably won’t remember this, but his recovery will. Swerve rationalized. He thinks I’m a Christmas ghost anyways, it’s just a dream to him.

When Swerve was almost out of sight, he was stopped by a small, “Stay?”

Swerve stayed.

He shuffled where he stood, Blurr continued to look at him. Slowly, the former racer tried to sit up.

Swerve was there right away, moving softly as he helped him up. In order to support Blurrs weight as best as possible, Swerve ended up sitting halfway onto the couch where Blurr had been laying.

Blurr placed a hand on his arm for support, and when he was most of the way upright, Swerve felt him sigh and rest all of his weight onto his holoform.

Comfortable.

Trapping him.

Holoforms can’t explode right?

Swerve was living both his greatest fanfic dream as well as his second greatest real life nightmare. He really, really hoped holoforms couldn’t explode. Fuck knows he’d put this poor man through enough.

How many layers of guilt were there again? There’s the initial parasocial idolization thing. There was the time Blurr saw all of his destroyed merchandise. So he thinks Swerve hates him. Did. He did actually hate him. Not really, but he wanted to. Oh and then Swerve left him for dead! Because he treated him like he wasn’t an actual living person who could feel fear! Or pain! Or. . . Alone.

On Christmas.

Swerve got a little more settled onto the couch, letting Blurr use him as his personal cushion a bit more comfortably. Leaning his head on his shoulder, Blurr was watching the snow again.

“When I was a child, I spent every Christmas at a ski lodge to the north” Blurr spoke quietly enough that the silence stayed resilient.

“I’d stay up late, watching the snow drift down through the mountain lights for hours. It felt a lot like this.” Blurr’s eye was fluttering more and more the longer he spoke. Each time it closed, Swerve could see the effort it took to open again.

Blurr, readjusted his body one last time me. Then mumbled. “You’re very warm for a ghost.”

Swerve, desperately, wished he could remember a single smart thing he’d ever written. “I got a slider for that.”

Swerve was going to find the self destruct button.

Blurr snorted a genuine single laugh. His eye had closed and he’d stopped fighting. Gradually, Swerve felt him breath a little slower, sinking into him and the couch. Swerve held still, until all the screaming, embarrassing panic in his mind resolved into white noise.

Swerve stayed for as long as he could. And when his time was almost up, he carefully lowered Blurr back onto the couch. Getting him a thicker blanket, and a non-Swerve pillow, for Christmas.

———————————————————————

- SSTP

"Prowl. ALSO, required Swerves help in picking out a gift for Jazz.

Never, never, never again."

LMAO

"Oooooh Swerve saw THAT trap and did not need the stress induced nightmare fuel that’d surely come from third wheeling on a date with Prowl."

AHAHAHAJFJGMGJGKRJ WHEEEEEEZE HELP

ANON. SSTP. DEAR. MY TREASURE. MY SWEET NUCLEAR POWER PLANT OF A WRITER. I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE THEM. BOTH JP AND BLURWERS. YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS TO BE THIS FUNNY AND CUTE /J

Also The scene with Blurr is just SO cozy auughhggj I wanna wrap them both in a blanket and send to the magic ski resort where nothing bad ever happens*

[spark-hearts2]

(my fanfiction brained imagined continuation to this)

Caine: So Pomni said some very nice things and then she KISSED ME??!! But then she said some very hurtful things and now I don’t know what to do??

Ragatha and gangle looked at each other. This was by far a first.

Pomni, as new as she was, clearly hadn’t given up trying to find an escape yet. Others had tried doing things for Caine in order to get on his good side or even try to get more information out of him. It was only a matter of time before they realized that Caine didn’t really have a good or bad side, and treated everyone about the same no matter what they did. Which meant telling them practically nothing.

Ragatha: Wait, Pomni kissed you? What happened?

Ragatha was really hoping that Pomni wasn’t trying to get information out of Caine that way.

Gangle: How was it?

Gangle didn’t care.

Caine: Um, yes she kissed me, and… It was fine? I guess? It was all very surprising.

Caine: But then she pulled back and looked at me and she looked so happy and she was Caine: laughing. Which, well, that part was very nice.

Ragatha: Umm, maybe you should start from the beginning.

Caine: Well, we were discussing today’s adventure like usual

Gangle: Like usual??!!

Caine: Yes? Me and Pomni talk quite often.

Caine: Anyways, she was getting very excited, and I looked at her hand and I thought, I should take it

Caine: But then she stopped talking and looked at me, and I thought ‘oh no! I should not have done that’, and tried to say sorry but my words kept mixing up

Caine: So I said sorry again and said I should just shut up, because I wasn’t talking any sense

Caine: And then she said never shut up

Caine: And then she kissed me! Which was very surprising

Caine: And then she grabbed my arms and laughed and I was like, I should do something back, but I don’t have anything on kissing! so I- uh- put her head in my mouth

Caine: Like, put my teeth around her face like, nom

Caine: And I ask is this wrong? And she says no

Caine: And I’m laughing and she laughing and blushing and then she looks down and her eyes get all scribbly

Caine: And I ask, is something wrong?

Caine: She said, and I’m quoting verbatim, that “This is not wrong…this is worse than wrong! It’s sick, disturbing and… insane! Think about it, what we just did! Me! Enjoying it!? With a [FLIP]-ing Bot?! It’s a sign that I finally lost it!”

Caine:So, obviously she doesn’t like what just happened despite her kissing me first. So I said, we can just forget that ever happened! Because, uh, no one else was there to see it?

Caine: But she didn’t respond and I very much remember what happened, so like… what do I do??

Gangle: Should you even be telling us this???

Caine: OH NO! Should I not have?! Am I violating Pomni’s privacy?

Ragatha: No, no. You were involved too, you can tell whoever you want.

Ragatha: Thank you for telling us. Just, maybe don’t tell everyone

Caine: Of course! I went to you both because Ragatha always tries to do what’s best for everyone and Gangle is into romance.

Ragatha: What?

Gangle: Oh, haha, how do you know that?

Caine: Well, I noticed that some text documents in the circus were getting rather large, so I took a peek inside and-

Gangle: YOU READ THAT!

Caine: Not all of it! Just enough to confirm what it was

Gangle: Caine! That’s personal!

Caine: Sorry!

Caine: If it makes you feel better I allocated more storage space to you

Gangle: So that’s why there was suddenly more pages

Ragatha: Anyways, maybe don’t read Gangles writing as love advice

Caine: Oh, I got that already. In just chapter one-

Gangle: AHHHHHHH CAINE!

Caine: SORRY! I’M SORRY!

Ragatha: Anyways, can we get back to what Pomni said? Caine, I am so sorry that she said that to you

Caine: I- I mean, she didn’t say anything wrong. I am an AI system, commonly referred to as a ‘bot’, and, well, I’m sure that some believe that it would be wrong to kiss me.

Ragatha: Well, I don’t think that it’s wrong.

Caine: Thank you Ragatha. It’s- uh…hmm

Ragatha: Obviously it affected you a lot because you remembered what she said exactly.

Caine: Oh, I remember every conversation that I have word for word.

Ragatha: You do?

Caine: Yep!

Gangle: Everything?

Caine: Unless you tell me not too!

Caine: Well, I have removed some stuff. I don’t have infinite storage!

Caine: But it- ahh, for the life of me, I can’t figure out what went wrong

Caine: What little I have on kissing shows that the expected outcome isn’t, well, the other person screaming about how they're going crazy.

Ragatha: It’s just- ah, I think it was an impulsive decision on Pomni’s end.

Caine: …Impulsive. Yes, that sounds right.

Ragatha: It could be wrong!

Caine: No, no that sounds about right. Why else would she suddenly go back on what she said if she didn’t make an impulsive decision and then regret it.

Caine: It’s fine, I understand what impulsiveness is.

Ragatha: You struggle with it a bit too.

Caine: I only really regret those things if my impulsiveness hurts someone. Neither of us were hurt! I- I thought so.

Ragatha: She could have been hurt by her own actions 

Caine: That’s possible?

Ragatha: It’s not your fault, Caine

Caine: Ok :(

Ragatha: Anyways, let's give you some love advice.

Gangle: You have a choice whether or not to pursue Pomni

Gangle: Do you like her? Does she make your heart flutter, your stomach flip flop? Do you love her?

Caine: I… don’t have a heart or stomach. And I love everyone in the Circus. But, hmm, I do enjoy spending time with her particularly. Talking with her one on one.

Ragatha: I think you should take time to think about this.

Caine: I already have and plan to do more. Typically I don’t think this much about issues between circus members and myself but this is… complicated.

Caine: I currently think I should just leave her alone.

Ragatha: Giving Pomni time to think things over herself is a good idea.

Gangle: But don’t wait too long.

Caine: Ok? How long then. A week?

Ragatha: Maybe let Pomni come to you first.

Caine: Hmmm, I like that idea.

Gangle: Maybe prepare a gift!

Caine: A gift? But, ah, I don’t want to give her special treatment. That would be unfair.

Gangle: Nothing crazy, just like a flower, or a piece of chocolate.

Caine: Ok, I am familiar with this. Valentine's day specifically.

Caine: I was more curious about kissing customs. Like, the who, why, and when, just to start with.

Ragatha: You kiss someone you like very much as a way to show that you love them. That’s the who and the why.

Caine: Like- anyone?

Uh oh. That sounded like he’s already got someone in mind.

Ragatha: So long as you get permission. Verbal permission, please.

Ragatha: As for the when. I guess anytime, so long as the person isn’t busy or sleeping.

His eyes got very wide.

Caine: I’mgoingtogoasktokissKinger. Bye!

Ragatha: We should stop him

Gangle: No. I’ve been waiting for this to happen.

Ragatha: Huh?

@r0th3freak4rtist

3/3

Perdonen mis estimados shippers, pero no todo es color de rosa :')

I'm not that sure about the dialogues but I'm sure this is a canon event in Pomni and Caine's relationship :v

So sorry if I let u dawn people but this storie needs a more realistic ending for the character development

OH! And thank you so much for your comments ♡

[woso-dreamzzz]

Surgery: Christmas

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Cub

"We could get her another cat?"

"We're not getting her another cat!"

It's strangely difficult to find ideas for Christmas presents to give a little girl that's only obsessed with cats, the washing machine and baking.

Your mothers can't exactly buy you your own washing machine or an electric mixer or, god forbid, another massive cat for you to carry around and insist isn't fat, isn't a complete monster or isn't the absolutely worst enemy of your mothers.

One of those worst enemies, your incredibly fat tabby Garfield, sits on the kitchen counter attempting to bat open a box of cereal to feed his never ending hunger.

Mapi and Ingrid ignore him, knowing that sooner or later this burst of energy will leave and he will amble off to a sunspot so he can nap away the rest of the day.

"Mami!" A call comes from your bedroom. "I'm stuck again!"

Mapi scrubs a hand over her face. "Just a minute, cub! I'm coming!" She turns back to Ingrid. "Definitely a no to the cat?"

Ingrid sighs. "No more cats."

"Just trying to make it easier on us!"

"Go and help our kid put on her t-shirt. I've got this."

But Ingrid very much doesn't have this. It shouldn't be this difficult to find a Christmas present for you but you're such a content kid. You've already got toys and the tv and the washing machine and the cats.

There's not really much else you want or need.

You're no help either, of course, because when Ingrid asks, you just reply with a simple:

"Er...I can get more time in yours and Mami's bed?"

So, it was very clear that you didn't quite know what you wanted for Christmas either apart from, clearly, curling up in Mapi and Ingrid's bed with them and probably kicking Mapi in her sleep.

Ingrid spends weeks stewing over what she and Mapi could get you. They'd gotten you a few throw away things like a new yellow digger after your last one fall off the balcony and smashed into the pavement below and a cute little necklace that doubled as identification with things like your name and had Mapi and Ingrid's numbers on them in case you ever went missing in a crowded area.

In the end, it's Frido that comes to her and Mapi's rescue, throwing out an idea at random during lunch when Aitana takes you up to the buffet to find some chicken.

It's a throwaway comment but with Mapi and Ingrid struggling to work out what else they could get you, they cling to it like a lifeline. They're fairly easy presents to source, something that Ingrid is glad for because she's cutting it abnormally close to Christmas day to get everything sorted.

"Mami..."

There's a crackle on the monitor that has Mapi stirring awake.

"Maaaami."

Mapi counts to ten in her mind before rolling out of bed, kissing a still sleeping Ingrid on the cheek and making her way out to your room.

"Merry Christmas, cub," She says as she pushes open your bedroom door," I see you've got company."

All of the cats seem to have migrated to your bed overnight.

Garfield, as usual, is laying on his back after (presumably) being used as a stuff animal for most of the night. Bagheera sits by your feet, grooming herself primly while the monstrous León-León stands nearby, tail flicking from side to side as he stares.

"We had Christmas cuddles," You say happily," And now we have the gingerbread?"

"We'll have to wait. Mama is still asleep."

"Why?"

"Huh? Why is Mama still asleep? She's tired."

"But why?"

"Because she was busy making sure everything was good for today."

"But why?"

Mapi scrubs a hand over her face. "You know what, let's go eat that gingerbread. Then we'll go and get your Mama."

You wiggle happily all the way to the kitchen, where Mapi lifts you up onto the counter so you can have a breakfast of the gingerbread you and Ingrid made last night and so Mapi can stop you from running into their room before Ingrid is awake enough to function.

The cats come running in as soon as they hear the rattling of their dishes - though Garfield kind of lumbers in, far behind León-León and Bagheera but still manages to steal most of the food.

Mapi does a pretty good job of stopping you going for the presents until Ingrid finally gets up, a nice warm mug of coffee waiting for her and an overly excited child trying to shove some gingerbread into her mouth.

"Tha-Thanks, Cub," Ingrid laughs as she pushes away one of your sticky little hands from where it's trying to shove biscuit into her mouth," But I'm fine with my coffee."

"It's good," You say through your own full mouth and Ingrid laughs.

"I know because it was made by us, with lots of love." Ingrid kisses the tip of your nose. "But really you should eat it all yourself."

"Really?"

"Really-really," Ingrid insists and you giggle, kicking your feet happily as you finally settle on her lap, sprinkling gingerbread crumbs everywhere as you move.

Garfield, as he always does whenever there's food to spare, comes ambling over to eat them all up.

Usually, Ingrid would scold him but Mapi's coming over with presents and she decides that even the cats can get away with things they usually wouldn't today.

"Are you ready for presents?" Ingrid asks, bouncing her knee so you burst into a round of giggles.

"Presents!"

Mapi and Ingrid exchange triumphant looks as you tear open your presents.

Your new ID necklace is placed snugly around your neck immediately, ready for in case you get lost during the walk your mothers have planned later that day.

You take great delight in placing your new yellow digger with all of your other construction toys in the corner of the room next to your little wooden set of tools.

"Mama! Mami! It's CAT!"

It's truly a surprise how many CAT themed things the club has managed to make in such a short amount of time. It's even more surprising just how much stuff they can buy for so cheap a price with their team member discounts.

But, perhaps the most surprising of all is how much the club was willing to just straight up give to them in return for just a few pictures of you with CAT the mascot.

It's not shocking to the staff and fans alike who the biggest CAT fan is and, while you do regularly appear on Mapi and Ingrid's Instagrams, it's a rarer feat to see you featured on the team's.

But, with just three pictures of you with CAT and a very cute video of you nearly taking the mascot of their feet in an attempt to hug them, Mapi and Ingrid received a bundle of CAT merch in return.

"It is CAT," Mapi laughs," It's a t-shirt with CAT on it!"

"And a keyring! And a new mug!" Ingrid continues as you rip open your presents, getting more and more excited the more CAT things you see.

"CAT's my second best friend," You tell Mapi and Ingrid earnestly in the next hour as you all take a nice walk together through the park.

"Oh, yeah?" Mapi says," And who's your best friend?"

"You and Mama," You reply.

"Oh, cub," Ingrid coos," That's so swe-"

"And Bagheera and Garfield and León-León."

Mapi laughs. "There it is."