#it’s been freezing these couple days so

[lupinqs]

SANTA BABY ━━ wnba!paige bueckers x reader

𝜗𝜚 ━ summary: during your christmas trip to NYC, you have a surprise waiting for paige back at the hotel.

𝜗𝜚 ━ word count: 4.9K

𝜗𝜚 ━ warnings: sexual content (munch p, scissoring)

𝜗𝜚 ━ links: my masterlist

𝜗𝜚 ━ author’s note: my christmas eve gift to y’all …. it was almost taken away tho because of that usc game ask the gc man i was crashing out

THE CITY is buzzing even at this hour, cold wind cutting through the streets as Paige makes her way back to the hotel. She tugs her coat tighter around herself, her hands jammed into her pockets to ward off the sting of the December chill. New York City is magical this time of year, but it’s also freezing, and she can’t wait to get back to the suite, where it’s warm—and more importantly, where you are.

This trip has been a mix of business and pleasure. She had a couple of sponsorship obligations to knock out and a media appearance scheduled for tomorrow, but mostly, it’s just an excuse to spend a few uninterrupted days with you. Both of your schedules have been so hectic lately—hers with the grind of off-season and the stress of Unrivaled about to start, and yours with work—and carving out this time feels like a luxury. It’s the last weekend before Christmas, and since you’re both gonna be spending the holiday with your families together, this is your time to celebrate just the two of you.

Paige hurries into the hotel, rubbing her hands together as she steps into the elevator. She flexes her fingers, still stiff from gripping a basketball for hours during her workout with Stewie and Sabrina. She promised you that she wouldn’t let it run late, and, as she glances at her phone to see the time, she’s satisfied that she fulfilled it.

Her sneakers hit the polished floor with soft thuds as she unlocks the door to the suite. The space is lavish, the kind of indulgence she spent because one, it’s the holidays, and two, she wanted this weekend to be perfect for the two of you. The warmth of the suite embraces her immediately, the city’s chill feeling miles away here. She shrugs off her coat, tossing it over the couch, and kicks off her sneakers.

“Baby, I’m back!” she calls, her voice echoing faintly in the spacious suite. When she came in, she assumed that you’d be in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket and whatever Netflix show you’ve been binge-watching. But the living room is empty, the TV off.

Her brows furrow as she looks around, scanning for signs of you. “You in the bedroom?” she calls out, though there’s still no answer. Her pulse picks up, not in worry, but in curiosity. She hums, wondering where you’re hiding.

The hallway feels quiet as she moves down it, pushing open the door to the bedroom. The sight that greets her makes her stop dead in her tracks, feet planted in the doorway.

The lights are dim, the warm glow casting a soft, golden hue across the room. A bottle of wine sits on the nightstand, one glass already poured and in your hand. But it’s you that holds her attention, that makes her brain short-circuit entirely.

You’re sprawled out on the bed, leaning back against the pillows with a smirk that could stop traffic. And you’re wearing—Paige feels her throat go dry—this tiny, ridiculously sexy Christmas lingerie set. The red satin clings to you in all the right places, barely covering what it’s meant to, and the white fur trim is so playful, so sinful, she doesn’t know whether to laugh or groan. The ribbon on the front of your bra is tied in a neat little bow, teasingly undone just enough to look like you’d barely bothered. The matching panties sit high on your hips, connected to sheer thigh-high stockings by the tiniest garters she’s ever seen.

She doesn’t even realize she’s standing completely still until you grin at her, your voice playful and sweet as you say, “Hi, baby.”

Paige blinks, her brain struggling to catch up as she stares at you. Her heart is pounding, adrenaline giving way to something much more visceral. The way you’re looking at her, the way the light catches the curve of your body—it’s like she’s seeing you for the first time all over again. She lets out a low, shaky breath, her hand running through her hair as her eyes continue to rove over your figure. Her stomach constricts, her whole body coiled so tight she’s not sure if she wants to drop to her knees or throw herself at you. Maybe both.

“Fuck, ma,” she finally manages, her voice low and husky as she steps forward. Her hands flex instinctively, wanting to touch you, needing to touch you. “You tryna kill me?”

You giggle, the sound light and sweet, but the glint in your eyes is anything but innocent. “No,” you say, tilting your head slightly as you take a slow sip from your wine glass. Your smirk widens, and Paige swears her knees almost buckle.

She exhales sharply, inching closer to the bed. “You look…” Her voice trails off, her gaze roaming over you like she’s trying to memorize every inch of your body. “Jesus, baby, you look insane.”

You’re still grinning as she reaches the edge of the bed, her hands resting on the mattress as she leans down slightly, bringing her face level with yours. Her pulse races, her body buzzing with anticipation as her eyes lock with yours. “You did this for me?” she asks softly, though she already knows the answer.

“Who else?” you ask, grinning, your voice a teasing lilt that makes Paige’s chest tighten. You set your wine glass down on the nightstand, your eyes never leaving hers.

Paige is already leaning forward, her hands sliding to your thighs, the warmth of your skin and the delicate fabric of your lingerie making her head spin. “You’re gon’ be the death of me,” she murmurs, shaking her head a little as her lips brush against yours lightly, hands tightening on your legs. And God, if this is how she goes, she’ll thank you for it.

Her lips finally lock onto yours, slow at first, like she’s savoring the moment. The kiss is soft, tender, but there’s an edge to it—like she’s holding herself back, barely. Her hands tighten on your thighs, sliding higher, the heat of your skin burning through the thin satin, and she swears she feels you shiver beneath her touch.

You kiss her back, your arms looping around her neck to pull her closer, and that’s all the invitation Paige needs. She shifts, climbing onto the bed, her knees sinking into the mattress as she presses herself against you. The warmth of your body sends a rush of heat through her, and she deepens the kiss, her tongue brushing against yours as she loses herself in the taste of you.

“You’re fuckin’ unreal,” she murmurs against your mouth, her voice barely above a whisper but heavy with meaning. Her lips leave yours only to trail down your jaw, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck.

Her hands roam as her mouth works. One slides up to cup the back of your neck, her thumb brushing over your jaw to tilt your head just the way she likes. The other settles firmly on your hip, her grip strong enough to keep you exactly where she wants you, though her fingers twitch like she’s desperate to touch you everywhere at once.

The scent of you—the faint lotion you always wear, mixed with the wine you’ve been drinking—fills her senses, and Paige feels drunk on it, drunk on you. Her lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear, and when she hears the soft, breathy sound you make in response, it sends a jolt of electricity straight through her.

“Damn,” she mutters, her teeth grazing your skin lightly before she soothes the spot with her tongue.

Your hands tug at the hem of her long-sleeve shirt, and she sits back just enough to let you pull it over her head. You toss it somewhere behind her, leaving her in her sports bra. Her abs flex slightly in the cool air, but the way your eyes roam over her makes her feel anything but cold. She watches you, her chest heaving, her pupils blown wide as you reach out to touch her, your hands sliding over her shoulders and down her torso, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

And then she’s diving back in, her kisses lower now, lips finding the delicate line of your collarbone, pressing open-mouthed kisses there like she’s starving for you—which, she is. Her tongue darts out to taste your skin, her teeth scraping against you enough to leave you shivering. She feels your fingers tangle in her hair, undoing her ponytail as you pull her closer. Her breath quickens slightly, chest heaving with just how much she wants you.

Her fingers find the ribbon on your bra, tugging at it gently as her lips brush over the swell of your cleavage. “This,” she mutters, her voice muffled against your skin, “is fucking killin’ me.” She pulls back just enough to look at you, her thumb brushing over the satin. “You tied it so pretty for me, huh? Knowing I’d lose my damn mind?”

You laugh softly, breathily, fingers tangling further in her hair. “Maybe.”

“Slut,” Paige mutters, grinning as she tugs the bow loose with one sharp pull, letting the fabric fall open, your perky tits popping out of it. Her breath catches as she sees you fully now, blue eyes darkening with something heavy, something primal.

“Goddamn, mama,” she breathes, her hands sliding along your sides, thumbs brushing over your ribs. She leans down again, her lips brushing against the curve of your breast. “You’re so beautiful, so sexy, so perfect, baby. It ain’t even fair.”

And then her mouth closes around your nipple, her tongue swirling over the sensitive skin as she sucks gently, and the sound you make in response sends a jolt straight through her. She groans softly, her free hand sliding up to cup your other breast. She alternates between kisses and soft bites, her lips tugging gently at your nipple before soothing the spot with her tongue. Her breath is hot against your skin, and she presses closer, hips grinding against yours just a little as her mouth moves.

“Such perfect tits,” she murmurs against your cleavage, her teeth grazing you again as she switches to your other breast.

She licks a slow, careful path across your skin, savoring every inch of you as she begins to lower once more. Her mouth leaves a wet trail down your stomach, her tongue occasionally flicking out to taste the faint salt on your skin. Her hands slide down from your chest, settling on your waist. She grips the skin hard, pinching slightly. Her lips brush over the curve of your belly, then down to the soft plane just above your hips, like she’s mapping every part of you with her tongue.

She pauses for a moment, just long enough to lift her head and admire the way the red lace hugs your skin. The fabric is delicate, so inviting, it’s like it was made to drive her insane. The sheer material leaves almost nothing to her imagination, and the sight of it—of you and your perfect pussy—sends a rush of wetness to her own core.

She just shakes her head a little, as if in disbelief, before lowering again, her lips grazing the edge of the lace as her fingers grip your hips tighter. She can feel the heat radiating from you, the way your body tenses slightly beneath her, the way you say her name, and it makes her head spin.

Her tongue flicks out, tracing the edge of the fabric, teasing. She presses a kiss just below your navel, then another, breath warm. “You got any idea what you’re doin’ to me, baby?” she asks slowly.

You don’t even get the opportunity to answer before her teeth catch the edge of your panties lightly, tugging just enough to make you gasp. And then she lets it snap back into place with a soft, playful grin. She glances up at you, eyes dark and blazing, blonde hair falling into her face as she leans closer again. The way you look back at her—pupils wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed—spurs her on.

Her lips hover just above the lace, and she kisses you there, slow and careful, her mouth pressing over the thin barrier like she can’t stand not to be closer. “So pretty,” she murmurs against you, her fingers brushing over the lace now, testing the material as her tongue flicks out once more, tasting you even through the fabric.

Her big hands slide from your waist to your thighs, spreading them just enough to give her room to work. Her teeth catch the edge of the waistband, tugging gently, and she groans low in her throat as the fabric gives way slightly under her pull.

“Fuck,” Paige mutters, and it’s muffled as she grips the lace between her teeth. She pauses just long enough for you to whimper, “Paige,” before she tugs again, this time pulling the panties down your hips with deliberate slowness.

She moves inch by inch, her teeth grading the lace lower, and she’s completely transfixed. The garters make her work for it, the straps pulling taut against the tension, but she doesn’t mind—if anything, it drives her wilder. Her lips slide along your skin as she works, kissing the sensitive spots where the panties leave a faint imprint.

As she reaches your thighs, Paige shifts, letting the fabric slide past her lips and catching it with her fingers instead. She tugs it the rest of the way down with her teeth again, dragging it along the curve of your legs, her mouth brushing your inner thighs as she goes.

When the panties finally slip off completely, Paige lets them drop from her teeth to the floor, her breath shallow as she grips your thighs, holding them apart. Her eyes rake over every inch of you—the way your face has gone bright pink in a flush, the way your tits peek from the opened lingerie top, the way your cunt is absolutely glistening for her.

She licks her lips slowly, the corner of her mouth curving into a smirk as her gaze flicks back up to your face. “Shit, mama,” she says lowly. “Look at you. Fuckin’ dripping for me.”

Paige doesn’t waste any more time. She slides down on her elbows, lowering herself between your legs, her mouth attaching to your clit with an intensity that makes you cry out. She sucks and licks with fervor, her tongue working you over with a skill that leaves both of your lungs aching, Paige’s face buried so deep in your folds she has to fight for air. The sensation is overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and desperation that has you writhing beneath her, hips bucking.

“Babe… mmm, shit,” you whimper, voice trembling as you reach down to grasp at the sheets, knuckles white with the effort to hold on. You can barely keep your eyes open, pleasure so intense it’s nearly blinding. “Please, fuck, don’t stop.”

Paige has no intentions of stopping. She moans softly against your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. Her hands grip your thighs, holding you in place firmly as she devours you like a woman starved. Her tongue moves expertly, flicking and swirling across your clit before laying it flat, shaking her head from side to side messily, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck, ma, you taste so good,” Paige groans, pulling away just long enough to let a glob of her spit land on your cunt. She leans back in, lapping it up, eyes rolling into the back of her head. “Could eat you out all night, baby…”

Your back arches off the bed at Paige’s words, causing the lingerie top to slide down your shoulders a little more. Your hips buck involuntarily as you chase the pleasure Paige gives you, one of your hands coming up to knead your own tit, mouth dropping open at the way Paige’s tongue slides along your wetness effortlessly. You’re desperate, every nerve ending in your body tingling with need. “Paige, baby, ‘M so close,” you choke out.

Paige only intensifies her efforts, her tongue flicking against your clit faster, her mouth working you over with an urgency that has you teetering on the edge. She’s relentless, giving you exactly what you need, pushing you closer and closer until you’re trembling, your thighs quivering around her head.

Just when you think you can’t take anymore, Paige pulls back slightly, her mouth leaving your clit. You let out a desperate whine at the loss, body screaming for more, but Paige is already moving. She slides two fingers inside you without warning, thrusting them in deep, hard, and fast. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, hands flying to Paige’s shoulders as you cling to her, body trembling with the force of Paige’s thrusts.

“Mmm, mama,” the blonde breathes out lowly as she pumps her fingers into your cunt with a brutal pace, the slick sound of her digits moving in and out echoing in the otherwise quiet hotel room. “So fucking tight, so wet for me. Shit, baby.”

She glances up, gaze on you as your head falls back against the pillows, your eyes squeezing shut as you let out a strangled moan, hips moving to meet Paige’s thrusts. She feels a rush of wetness flood her own boxers and picks up the pace even more, the pleasure becoming overwhelming for you, a white-hot fire that consumes you from the inside you. “Paige, oh my God… holy shit…”

Paige leans in close, biting lightly at your inner thigh as she whispers, “Think you can take three, baby?”

She watches as your eyes fly open at the question, brows furrowing as you nod frantically. “Yes. Yeah, do it,” you force out breathlessly. “Please, P.”

Paige smirks at your reaction, but doesn’t need to be told twice. She pulls her fingers out briefly, adding a third finger before thrusting back inside, her movements deliberate and rough, stretching you out. Your hips buck up to meet Paige hand, chasing the pleasure. Paige scissors her fingers inside you, making you choke a little on your own whimper, nails digging into her skin, gripping the strap of her sports bra.

“Such a—God, you’re such a fuckin’ slut,” Paige groans, eyes locked onto your face, watching every single expression of pleasure that crosses your features. “Wearing that lingerie, knowing I’d lose my goddamn mind. Shit.”

Your entire body is one fire, senses overwhelmed by the combination of the relentless pace of Paige’s thrusts and the dirtiness that coats her words. You can feel every inch of Paige’s fingers inside you, can feel the way they stretch you, the way they hit that perfect spongy spot deep inside that makes you see stars. “Baby, you’re gonna make me cum. God, I’m—” You cut yourself off with a loud moan.

Paige leans forward, her mouth finding your clit again, tongue swirling slick circles over the sensitive nub as she continues to thrust her long fingers in and out, faster and harder, pushing you to the brink. “Shit, ma, do it,” she urges roughly, humming against you as she laps at your pussy. “Cum for me. Cum all fucking over me, mama.”

That’s all you need to hear. With a strangled cry, your entire body tenses, back arching off the bed as you come hard, walls clenching around Paige’s fingers, gushing against her face. The pleasure is blinding, overwhelming, and you can’t do anything but ride it out, body trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

Paige keeps thrusting her fingers, lapping at your wetness lazily, riding out your orgasm with you. She prolongs the pleasure until you’re nothing but a quivering, panting mess beneath her. When your body finally goes limp, Paige slowly withdraws her fingers, leaning down to press a kiss to your trembling thighs.

And then she starts crawling back up your body, her lips trailing over the lingering marks she’d left along her descent. Your eyes meet, a shared intensity overtaking the laziness you were just feeling, Paige’s lips finding you’re once more in a searing, desperate kiss. It’s messy and heated, tongues tangling, hands grasping and pulling at each other. You can taste yourself on Paige’s lips and it only makes you kiss her harder.

You let Paige flip your positions with her strength, your thighs now straddling Paige’s waist. She groans a little against your mouth as her hands find your bare ass, fingers digging into the skin and kneading it, your bodies pressing together.

“Ma,” Paige breathes out when you pull away slightly, sliding her sports bra up and over her head. Her hands reach down for her sweatpants and you help her yank them—and her boxers beneath—down in one swift motion. Paige’s hips lift off the bed, and the two of you finally rid of the barrier. You toss the clothing aside without a second thought.

Paige’s lips curl into a smirk as her eyes lock with yours again, pulling you closer with her hands on your ass, bodies flush against each other. “C’mon,” she murmurs thickly.

Your breath hitches at the feel of Paige’s hands on your hips, guiding you to align your cunts together. The sensation is sinful, and you can’t suppress the moan that escapes your lips as you feel the heat and slickness of Paige’s wetness against your own.

“That’s it, mama,” the blonde encourages, sending a shiver down your spine. “Ride me, grind on me. Lemme feel you.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You start moving your hips in slow, careful circles, your slick pussy sliding against Paige’s with every movement. The sensation is overwhelming, and your head falls back as you let yourself get lost in the pleasure, hands gripping Paige’s shoulders for support.

Paige’s eyes are glued to you, tracking every move, every expression. She’s mesmerized by the way your face contorts with pleasure, your mouth falling open slightly as your hips move with increasing urgency. Paige’s hands tighten on your hips, helping to guide your movements, pushing you down harder against her own aching cunt.

“Shit,” Paige groans, blue eyes flitting between your flushed face, the way your tits bounce slightly with every thrust of your hips, and where your pussy grinds against hers. “You look so fuckin’ hot riding me like this.”

You whimper at Paige’s words, pace quickening as the heat between you builds to an almost unbearable level. The friction of your clits rubbing together is enough to make you lose control, unable to hold back the desperate sounds that escape your lips.

“You like that, baby?” Paige rasps, voice dripping with lust as she watches you lose yourself in the pleasure. “You like grinding that pretty pussy against me, yeah?”

Your only response is a choked moan, body trembling as you lean forward, hands sliding up to grip the headboard for support. The new angle allows you to press down even harder against Paige, and it sends shockwaves through both of your bodies.

Paige’s eyes roll back in her head at the increased pressure, her own hips bucking up to meet the roll of yours. She’s completely entranced by the sight of you riding her, chest heaving as she helps you, gripping your ass and pulling you quicker against her.

“Feels so fucking good,” she groans roughly.

You whimper at her words, body moving faster, more desperate, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter. You’re both so close, bodies trembling with the effort to keep going, to chase the high that you both desperately need.

“Paige,” you gasp, breathless and needy. “I’m almost there.”

Paige’s grip on your ass tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as she urges you on. “That’s it,” she encourages, your folds so slick against hers. “Cum for me again. Need it right fuckin’ now.”

You cry out, your entire body tensing as you reach your peak, hips grinding down hard against Paige as you finish with a shuddering moan. The pleasure washes over you in waves, leaving you trembling and breathless as you ride out your orgasm.

Paige isn’t far behind, the sight of you coming undone above her enough to push her over the edge. Her own orgasm hits her hard, her hips jerking up as she lets out a low, guttural moan, her fingers digging into your ass and hips as she rides it out.

You collapse onto her, your body melting into hers, every muscle in you soft and spent. Her skin is warm beneath yours, slick with the same thin sheen of sweat that glistens on your back. Paige’s chest rises and falls erratically under your cheek, her breath heavy and labored, matching your own. The steady rhythm of her heartbeat pounds faintly against your ear, grounding you.

Her arms come around you almost instinctively, wrapping you in a hold that’s firm yet gentle, one hand splayed across your lower back, the other lazily circling between your shoulder blades. Her fingers drag lightly over your skin, soothing and possessive at once, as though she’s trying to memorize every inch of you. She shifts slightly beneath you, her body fitting against yours with an intimacy that feels effortless, as though this is where you’re meant to be.

For a long moment, neither of you speaks. The room is quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside and the soft, uneven breaths you’re both still trying to catch. Paige’s head tilts back against the pillows, her eyes fluttering shut as she lets the tension drain from her body, your weight on top of her a comfort she never realized she needed so much.

And then, with a low, raspy chuckle that vibrates through her chest, Paige breaks the silence. “Damn.”

The single word, said with so much raw awe and disbelief, makes you laugh. The sound is quiet, breathy, but it shakes through you, your shoulders trembling lightly against her. Paige feels the warmth of your laugh against her neck, and a lazy smile spreads across her face, her lips curving up in a way that makes her look soft, completely undone.

Her hand moves from your back, trailing slowly upward, the tips of her fingers grazing your spine before they find your jaw. She cradles it gently, guiding your face upward so your eyes meet hers. There’s something so special in the way she looks at you—like you’re the only thing that exists in her world right now. Her thumb brushes over your cheek, and then she’s leaning in, her lips finding yours in a kiss that’s slow and lingering, deep and unhurried.

She hums softly into it, the sound vibrating against your mouth, and when she pulls back just enough to speak, her voice is low and rough. “Did so perfect for me,” she murmurs, her eyes scanning your face as if committing it to memory.

Your lips curve into a small, sleepy smile, and you let your head rest against her shoulder once more. “I love you,” you whisper, your voice soft but sure.

Paige’s arms tighten around you in response, her fingers brushing lightly over the curve of your shoulder. She doesn’t say it back immediately, but the way she holds you—the way her lips press a gentle kiss to your temple—says it louder than words ever could.

The two of you stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the moment settling around you like a warm, comforting blanket. Paige’s breathing steadies, her chest rising and falling beneath you in a rhythm that feels calming, almost hypnotic. When she finally moves, it’s only to reach for the nightstand, her fingers curling around the bottle of wine that’s been sitting there, untouched until now.

She pours herself a glass first, then grabs yours, her hand steady as she offers it. “Here,” she says softly, her voice still husky.

You take the glass from her with a small smile, your fingers brushing hers, and Paige feels that familiar spark, that electric current that always seems to buzz between you. She watches you as you take a sip, the way your lips curl around the rim of the glass, the way your eyes meet hers over the edge of it.

After a few minutes, Paige sets her empty glass aside and leans over the edge of the bed, her hand brushing against the discarded lingerie top. She picks it up, holding it up in the dim light, letting it dangle from her fingers as she turns back to you with a lazy grin. “This,” she says, her tone playful but still thick with awe, “was crazy.”

You smile at her, wide and teasing, your head tilting slightly as you reply, “You loved it.”

Paige laughs softly, shaking her head as she leans down to kiss you again, her lips lingering against yours as she murmurs, “Course I did.” Her voice is warm, sincere, and when she pulls back, the grin on her face is so full of love it makes your chest tighten.

The two of you settle back into the bed, the wine forgotten on the nightstand as Paige tucks you against her side, her arm draped over your waist. The city hums softly in the background, but all Paige can hear is the quiet sound of your breathing, the steady rhythm of your heart against hers. And in this moment, with you curled against her, Paige thinks there’s nowhere else in the world she’d rather be.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Hypothermia.

Pairing: Yandere!Winter Spirit x Reader (OC).

Word Count: 2.6k.

TW: Kidnapping, Hypothermia, Obsessive Behavior, Implied/Mentioned Death, Manipulation, Implied Stalking, and Implied Cannibalism.

You’d heard, once, that in its final stages, freezing to death could actually be quite warm.

It was called paradoxical undressing, or something similar enough to warrant the connection. First, you’d be shivering and lost, then rigid and confused, and in the final moments of your life, hypothermia would compel you to spend your last drops of energy stripping yourself of all things good and warming, ridding yourself of any barriers that might’ve saved you from its fatal touch. In the end, you’d die paralyzed, breathless, and worst of all, convinced that you were the warmest you’d ever been. It was a cruel thing to do to anyone, let alone a innocent victim of bad luck. That, or it was supposed to be a kindness, meant to make you feel just a little more at-home as you laid down and accepted what you couldn’t stave off. How you’d take it was something you couldn’t speak for just yet, but you had a feeling that would change soon enough.

So, to reiterate, you’d know you were freezing to death when you started to feel warm. Whether or not it was true, the superstition proved to be a small mercy, because you still felt pretty fucking cold.

You couldn’t feel anything below your knees. Your arms were at least somewhat protected where they were tucked against your chest, half-buried underneath the heavy flannel you’d been able to steal on your way out, but there wasn’t anything you could do about how the snow and ice sunk into the leather of your boots, how the wind seemed to cut through the paper-thin denim of your jeans. A scarf saved your nose and mouth from the worst of the chill, but in the middle of the night, miles and miles and miles away from the nearest streetlamp or flashlight, you couldn’t afford to cover your eyes. It was a miracle that you weren’t crying. You weren’t sure, but you didn’t want to find out if your tears would freeze against your cheeks.

You took another shuffling step forward, and your foot caught on a half-buried tree root, sending you crumbling to the ground. Cold bit into your hands and knees, and you choked out a miserable whine, your dignity abandoned around the time you lost the ability to move your fingers. Not for the first time, you thought about turning back. You could still taste blood on your lips, sure, could still attempt to ignore the ache in your gut where hunger should’ve been, but nothing could’ve been worse than this. At least, next time you tried to run, you could do it during the day, when the cold would be just a little more forgiving. At least, next time, you could save yourself a few hours of trouble and drown yourself in the sink, right next to the other co—

Something flashed across your peripheral – movement, light. You shambled to your feet, snapping in the direction of a dull glow just barely bright enough to cut through the dark of the forest, to prove that there were other people wandering these godforsaken woods at this unholy time of night. You were exhausted beyond sleep, hopeless beyond aid, but still, you forced yourself to stumble around trees and over snowdrifts, to blink away the haziness in your vision and believe that the silhouette of a cabin you could see through the darkness was just that – a cabin. It was a small structure, no more than a couple of rooms, and you couldn’t see any roads or cars, but the windows were lit, and smoke was rising from the chimney, and the snow had been cleared away from the porch, proving that someone was actively taking care of the property. For the first time in hours, you dragged yourself onto something other than endless sleet and for the first time in your life, found yourself thankful to be walking on perfectly solid, perfectly dry earth.

You made it onto the porch before stopping. It was a stupid thing to worry about, really – whether or not some recluse living all alone in the middle of the woods would like you. The roads were closed, iced-over, and you weren’t going to get another chance to find help, but that also meant you weren’t going to find other help. If the cabin’s owner didn’t take kindly to uninvited guests, then you might’ve been better off wandering back into the forest. There were worse things in the world than the cold.

…

Actually, on second thought, there really weren’t. Before you could hesitate again, you brought a fist to the door and knocked stiffly. It swung open in an instant.

You blinked once, then twice, before acknowledging the man standing in the now-open doorway. Saying he looked out of place would’ve been an understatement. Rather than the old, grisly, lumberjack-type you’d been expecting, he almost seemed princely – a little too tall and a little too angular, willowy in a way that made you feel smaller by comparison. His skin was bone-white, like the blood running underneath it was blue rather than red, and his shoulder-length hair was so pale, calling it any shade of blonde wouldn’t have done justice to its absolute lack of color. He was dressed for another season – his white tunic long-sleeved, but thin and open to the navel, and his pants made out of a similarly unsubstantial type of linen. His eyes were the worst part, the same pale blue as open sky or clear water. The color wasn’t damning on its own, but something about the lighting made his pupils seem nonexistent – shades of blue spiraling into themselves indefinitely. You might’ve thought he was blind if his gaze hadn’t been so tangibly fixed on you.

“My love,” he sighed, each word slightly distorted by an accent you couldn’t name. Then, with a slight gasp, “Come in, come in. Ah, poor thing, you’re already half-frozen.”

More than half, but you weren’t in a place to correct him. “…I’m sorry to bother you,” you muttered, letting yourself be swept into the cabin and all-but dropped into an armchair so close to the fireplace, it felt like the flames were licking at your knees. You shuffled that much closer and peeled off your scarf, embarrassed not to have thought to do so before knocking.

While your host fluttered around you, mumbling about hot drinks and meals, you took another stab at explaining yourself. Even if he wasn’t listening, it couldn’t hurt to make yourself seem that much more unfortunate. “I—I’m staying in another cabin a few miles up the mountain. It was me and a few friends, but the snowstorm caught us off-guard, and after losing power—”

“They always seem to,” he cut in, pausing behind you. A quilted blanket was draped over your shoulders, and you pulled it over your chest with no hesitation. “I can’t fathom why. The seasons change at the same time every year.”

You bit back a scowl, not sure whether to feel patronized or offended. “We were waiting for the roads to re-open, but there was an accident, and—”

“And you ran out of food.” Another log was thrown on the fire, sending tendrils of heat crawling up your arms and rooting into your chest. “I should make you some tea, shouldn’t I? Oh, or would you prefer something to eat?”

You should’ve been starving, but the idea of eating alone had you gagging on bile. You dropped your eyes into your lap. “…I’m alright, thank you. Just a little cold.”

There was another sigh, this one more dismissive than the first. You heard light footsteps against old wood, the sound delicate shifting, and then, he was perched on the lip of the fireplace, his chin propped on his fist and his expression wistful in a distant sort of way. Well, as much as you could see of it, anyway. You refused to let your gaze rise above his collarbones. “You’re going to be stubborn about this, aren’t you?”

The question was playful, accompanied by an airy laugh. This time, you couldn’t swallow your frown. “I’m sorry, but if we’ve met before, I don’t—”

“I suppose you wouldn’t.” He seemed to have a problem with that – coming too quickly, before you were fully prepared to move on. “I think people are still calling me Boreas, but it has been some time since I last checked. I wouldn’t mind if you chose another name.”

“Bor,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “I’m—”

“(Y/n).” You physically recoiled – crowding yourself against the back of your seat. Bor only laughed. “That’s my fault. It’s just—I’ve been so excited to meet you. There aren’t a lot of people who understand each other like we do.”

Huh.

Well, he was crazy, clearly. That was fine. It was still better than freezing to death. Probably.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” he asked, practically grinning. “That’s alright. Winter’s a scary time, and we ought to seek refuge in one another.”

It was a sweet sentiment posed at the worst possible time. Memories of dark rooms and torn blankets flickered across your mind, but you did your best to keep them at bay. “I think I’ve had enough huddling, for a while.”

“Of course, nor would I expect otherwise. You’ll be comfortable here, I promise. We’ll knit, and embroider, and cook – there’s quite a lot of things you can cook over an open fire. It’s a shame most people never get a chance to try it.” He paused, shook his head, as if cutting himself off. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat? You must’ve walked an awfully long way.”

The idea of eating was still repulsive, but when you tried to reaffirm your rejection, you couldn’t quite seem to. You were starting to regain feeling in your chest again, and with it, your stomach. With the cold momentarily put aside, emptiness took precedent – exhaustion and thirst and would-be hunger forming a shell of hollowness at your core. You’d have to get out of this cabin at some point, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to give yourself something to burn when you did.

“A cup of tea would be nice.”

Bor beamed. “I’ve already got the kettle on.”

And, just like that, he was gone, swept into another room before you could so much as mention that you preferred cream to sugar. With a deep exhale, you collapsed against the back of your chair, glancing around the cabin’s interior. It was larger than you guessed – the living room alone bigger than the entirety of its exterior would’ve suggested. Your tired eyes glanced over shelves of clutter and knickknacks, tables crowded with well-worn books and half-emptied mugs, chairs and sofas all piled high with pillows and blankets in every shape and color and form you could imagine. It would’ve been homey, under better circumstances. Even now, under circumstances that were very much not better, you found yourself slackening, shifting, closing your eyes for just a touch longer than you should’ve. By the time Bor blustered back in, a teacup in either hand, you were tracing the delicate conch shells carved into either armrest of your seat just to keep yourself awake. He waited patiently for you to pick yourself up, accept the cup, and bring it eagerly to your lips.

The taste was familiar and light – peppermint, or something similarly seasonal. Rather than returning to his post by the hearth, Bor perched himself on the arm of your chair. “Isn’t that better?” And then, before your addled mind could thing to answer, “It must’ve been difficult – being all alone for so long. I’d say I can’t imagine how you must’ve felt, but I had plenty of time to imagine.”

You drained half the cup before managing to drag it far enough away from your mouth to respond. “It was only a few days.”

“Far more than you should’ve had to endure. I was tempted to send you company, but—” His smile took on a bashful lilt. “You wouldn’t have liked it. Maybe later on, if I’m ever forced to leave you on your own again.”

“You make it sound like I’m not going home.”

He was almost too quick to clarify, laughing as he strung an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. He was cold as ice, but you let him – too tired to resist. “And we’d never want you to think something like that, would we? I already feel terrible about how long you had to stay away.”

His words were sympathetic, but that was all. You could still make out the crescent moon of his smile, the glee in his voice, the satisfaction in how tightly he held you against him. Bristling, you tried to pull away, but you must’ve spent more of your strength than you realized. As soon as you drew back, a spear of pure cold bit into your arm where his hand was curled around it, then your chest, sending you shrinking and shivering into his side. Bor only hummed, raking his fingers through your hair. “Tired, darling?” You wanted to refuse, to pull yourself together, to leave, but even as you started to shake your head, you knew it just wasn’t possible. Slowly, shakily, you managed to nod, and Bor rewarded you with a ginger kiss to the top of your head. His lips were as cold as his skin. “Let’s get you to bed.”

Walking was a fantasy – as implausible as flying pigs or Christmas in July. You made no effort to protest as Bor gathered you in his arms and, with a surprising amount of strength for his lean form, carried you deeper into the cabin. The passing scenery blurred together, your mind too exhausted and your vision too fogged to hold focus. You only fully processed where he was taking you when you felt your back press into something soft – a bed, one softer and warmer than anything you’d ever felt, before.

It was nice. As if by instinct, your hands found the buttons of your borrowed flannel, fumbling for a moment before a more capable pair took over. Your shoes were done away with next, then your jeans, leaving you in just your oversized undershirt. You wouldn’t have minded if he took that, too. Anything to make you feel a little less overheated.

Eventually, his weight settled next to yours, and with your eyes shut, you curled into him – resting your head in his lap as he rubbed freezing shapes into your back. By some miracle, you found the will to speak, if only in a whisper. “I didn’t hurt anyone. It was an accident.”

“I know. No one would say that you did.”

“It’s what they would’ve wanted. Not all of us had to die.”

“My thoughts exactly. We should take care of each other, shouldn’t we?”

“I don’t want to go home.” You could still taste the iron on your tongue – raw meat tinged with ice-cold ash. “I don’t think I can.”

A chirping laugh filled the bedroom – bright and piercing and as cutting as a cold wind through tender flesh. You forced yourself to open your eyes, and by anything but your own volition, met his. “But, love,” he murmured, leaning down to press a lingering kiss into your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, then finally, your lips.

In the brief moment before he pulled away, you genuinely believed you would never feel cold again.

“You’re already here.”

[cowboybeepboop]

Crave

"Y/N, is this... what you want?" 

Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut 

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: You’re close friends with the two brothers from childhood, years of a debilitating crush on Sergei finally builds into something more. 

a/n: i just saw this movie like a couple days ago and all i can think of is needy virgin Sergei 😣 i didn’t proofread what so ever and also i wrote this in barely any time but i hope you all enjoy AND PLEASE IF YOU HAVE ANY KRAVEN REQUESTS SEND THEM MY WAY IM CRAVING THIS MAN

It's been a few successful days in avoiding the two brothers, you do this every year, like clockwork. Whenever Sergei comes back home, you distract yourself and stay away the best you can. It’s not worth the heartbreak to see him leave over and over again. 

Dimitri has been calling you nightly, but each night you can hear the sounds of Sergei in the background. He plagues your thoughts, your dreams, your days. All you can think about is the warmth of his skin under your fingers and the gentleness of his touch. 

You shudder as your eyes shut, warmth pooling in your panties as your mind wanders back to him. "Dimitri.. I've gotta go," you murmur into the phone. "I'm going to get some drinks with my friend here soon." 

Dimitri replies enthusiastically, agreeing with your choice. He wishes you goodnight and hangs up the phone, leaving you with the image of Sergei's intense gaze, the feel of his muscles under your fingertips, and the lingering warmth in your stomach.

You can't shake the thoughts, the images of him constantly swirling in your head, the way his voice changes when he speaks, the touch of his hands. It haunts your dreams, and you can't help but feel an unexplainable intrigue and a growing desire for him.

You quickly get changed, ready for a night of reckless distraction, desperately seeking a way to forget about the complex hunter. You head out, the cool night air hitting your skin, the music getting louder and louder as you approach the club. 

You arrive, and the thumping music and flashing lights engulf you, offering a temporary escape from your thoughts of the man who has been plaguing your mind. Taking in the overwhelming atmosphere of the club, the loud music, the flashing lights, and the sea of bodies, all of it works together to create a sense of chaos and excitement. 

Despite the distraction, you can't shake the sensation of being watched, it lingers even as the bouncer returns your ID. Your mind drifts back to Sergei, and the memory of his intense gaze lingers in your thoughts, almost as if you sense his presence somewhere nearby.

You try to shake off the feeling getting a few shots to distract yourself and calm your wandering mind. As time passes, you've found your target: he's a decent-looking man, with a similar haircut to Sergei, a gentle demeanor, and he has a nice smile. He's good enough for what you need him for.  

The two of you exit the building, the chill midnight air freezing your skin immediately, the man you're with clutches his jacket tighter. Obviously showing a lack of interest in helping you cover your skin. 

Despite being with this man, you still can't entirely shake the feeling of being watched. It lingers, a constant reminder of the man you're trying to forget. Sergei watches from afar, his jaw clenched as he notices your shiver. You whip your head around, looking for the eyes that are following your every move. 

You can't see him, but he's still there, standing in the shadow of a dimly lit alleyway. His eyes follow your every move, observing your interactions with the man beside you. His jaw remains tight, his gaze cold and intense. 

As you whip around, you catch a glimpse of a figure in the darkness, just beyond the reach of the dim street light. It’s subtle, but the feeling of being observed lingers.

Unfortunately, this night will not be filled with any sort of satisfaction as you notice a group of men dressed in dark clothes, weapons hidden in their pockets. "Fuck." you whisper, using your arms to cover your skin the best you can.

The men approach, their intentions unclear, and the tension in the air is palpable. The cold wind bites at your skin, and you can't help but wrap your arms around yourself, your teeth chatter, and goosebumps rise on your skin, yet you can sense another gaze watching you, fixated, observing your every move.

Before you have time to react Sergei approaches from the shadows, giving the group a warning look as he steps closer to you. The men stop in their tracks, their gazes shifting to the imposing figure stepping out of the darkness. 

Their muscles tense, and they exchange hesitant glances as Sergei approaches closer, his presence radiating danger, his piercing eyes fixed on the men in front of you.

His hands are gentle on your shoulder, causing you to jump as you turn to look at him, you immediately relax when you recognize him. Finding comfort in his strong protective arms. 

His touch carries reassurance, his big, sturdy hands gently resting on your shoulder, offering a subtle sense of security. His eyes, no matter how cold they seem, convey a flicker of concern, a flicker of reassurance that speaks more than words. 

The tension lingers, but the warmth of his touch somehow seems to offer a moment of tranquility, a gentle comfort despite the surrounding danger.

Sergei removes his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders to keep you warm. "I suggest you all disperse, go your separate ways," he warns with narrowed eyes. The men listen, running in different directions, even your date scurries away. 

The men disperse hurriedly, leaving you and Sergei standing alone in the cold, the sounds of the night filling the air around you. You shiver, the cold air seeping through your clothing, but the warmth of his jacket offers some comfort, the fabric soft against your skin. The tension in the air is now replaced by a hushed stillness, save for the faint noise from the club behind you.

"You scared away my date.." you whisper, turning to face him while gripping the coat around you tightly. 

He stands there, the cold air mixing with his breath, his expression cool and composed, but there's a hint of sincerity in his gaze as he looks at you. His voice, low and measured, responds to your words.

"Your choice in company leaves much to be desired." He watches you, studying your shivering form, seeing how you clutch his jacket tightly for warmth.

"I suppose you're right," you move closer to him, craving the warmth of his skin. "But, I did have a plan for how my Friday night would go." Sergei begins to lead you in the direction of your apartment, his hands gentle on your frame.

He walks beside you, his presence towering above you, his movements deliberate and measured. He remains silent as he guides you towards your apartment. 

He glances at you from the corner of his gaze, seeing how you instinctively lean into him, seeking his heat and protection. He can't help but notice the way you grasp his coat, his gaze flickering to your hand gripping the fabric.

Once you reach the building you face him once again, the alcohol mixing with your unwavering horniness as you study his features. "Sergei.." you whisper his name, stomach twisting with desire. 

His eyes meet yours, his icy gaze studying your face as you say his name. His eyes flick between yours, the sound of his name causing a subtle reaction in his expression, a flicker of some unknown emotion.

"Yes, Y/N?" His voice is composed but holds a hint of something unfamiliar, something subtle and hard to discern, perhaps an echo of a memory or a flicker of feelings he thought were long-forgotten.

"Don't say my name like that," you whine, your eyebrows furrowing with frustration. 

His eyebrows raise slightly with curiosity upon hearing your words, a flicker of confusion crossing his eyes. He studies the frustration in your expression, his gaze softening ever so slightly.

"How else should I say it?" He asks, his voice quiet but measured, a hint of genuine curiosity in his words. Despite his icy demeanor, there's a hint of gentle protectiveness as he looks at you, trying to figure out why the way he said your name made you react with frustration.

You groan, turning away from him, your body aching for his touch. "Forget it, I should get inside. It's cold." 

He follows you into the building, the door closing behind you both. The sound of the city seems to fade away, replaced by the stillness of the hallway. 

He studies you, noticing your frustrated groan and the way you turn away from him. As you stand there, he can sense your frustration, the unspoken desires still hanging between you two. 

"Is there anything I can do to help?"  He asks, his voice quiet and measured. He watches you, feeling a pang of curiosity as to why you seemed to grow frustrated at the mere sound of his voice.

You unlock the door to your apartment, the neediness in his tone making your panties soaked. "Sergei..." you practically whine his name, frustrated with the lack of awareness he has of how much he's affecting you.

As you unlock the door, his eyes flick to yours, the slight desperation evident in your voice causing his gaze to soften even further, his eyes fixated on you. He follows you inside the door, his eyes trained on your face. 

There's a noticeable pause, a slight shift in the air. He can sense the tension and the subtle emotions hidden beneath your frustration, but he seems unaware of the impact he's having on you.

"Y/N..." He responds gently, his voice carrying a hint of a question, a tinge of hesitance as if he senses something but can't quite tell what.

You squeeze your thighs tightly together, "Don't say it like that.." you gasp, he finally catches on to your behavior. The scent of your arousal fills his nostrils. 

He's still for a moment, the realization seems to dawn on him, a subtle shift in his expression, and his eyes widen a bit as he stands there silently. The air feels heavy with your arousal, the scent filling his senses, the realization hitting him like a sudden wave. 

He stares at you, his eyes tracing the way you squeeze your thighs together, trying to hide the visible effect he's having on you.

"Like what?" He asks quietly, his voice low, as if he knows the answer, but needs your confirmation. His eyes remain fixated on you, taking in every tiny movement, every little sign of your arousal. 

There's a flicker of something in his eyes, a hint of a realization that he may be the cause of your frustration.

"I can't.." you sigh, reaching out to touch his firm abs, "The way you're saying my name.. it turns me on." you press your face into his chest, craving his touch. 

A shiver runs through his body at your words, the touch of your hand against his abs, and the way you press your face to his chest. He seems to tense up for a moment, caught off guard by your words and the way you press against him.

He stands there, still trying to process your admission, his expression unreadable, his eyes fixed on you as you nuzzle against him, the tension between you almost palpable.

"Sergei.. Say something, anything.." you murmur, pulling away from him reluctantly. 

His breath catches in his throat, and his chest heaves as he stares down at you, the scent of your arousal flooding his senses. He's silent for a moment, still trying to comprehend the effect he has on you, his heart beats a bit faster, and his words seem to get stuck in his throat.

"Y/N..." He murmurs softly, almost hesitantly, his voice carrying a slight tremble as he tries to choose the right words amidst his unexpected arousal.

You take his hand in yours, leading it towards your aching cunt. "Sergei.. please.." 

His eyes widen slightly at the gentle touch of your hand, his breath is sharp as he feels the soft heat of your body. His fingers tense as you lead his hand, a mix of bewilderment and arousal coursing through him. He follows your lead, his touch gentle as he moves as you guide him. 

"Y/N.." He exhales, his voice low and gravelly, his eyes holding a hint of uncertainty as he looks at you, his gaze flickering between your face and his hand as you guide it to where you need it most.

You moan as his fingers brush over the growing wet spot, your body shaking with anticipation. 

He can feel the heat of your arousal through your clothes, a shiver runs through his body, goosebumps rise on his skin, and his eyes hold a mix of surprise and a subtle hunger. His touch lingers for a moment, his fingers just tracing the growing wetness, his voice wavering as he speaks.

He swallows hard, his words still hesitant, a breathless tone to his voice. "I don't know what... I'm doing..."

You guide his hand under the fabric of your panties, silently begging him to please you, to take control. You're too far gone to process the words he murmured, lust clouding your mind. 

He takes a deep breath as his fingers move under the fabric of your panties, the touch sending a bolt of electricity through him, his whole body seems to shudder at the sensation. His eyes hold a mix of uncertainty and a sudden surge of arousal as he tries to understand what he's feeling.

"Y/N, is this... what you want?" He asks, his voice hoarse as he speaks, his other hand gripping your waist, his fingers holding onto you needily despite his uncertainty.

"Yes… Yes please," you whine, fingers pressing into his as you guide his movements against your clit.

His breath catches as you guide his fingers, a low, almost guttural groan escaping him, his fingers press into you, trying to find the right rhythm. His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his body pressed closer to you. 

"Like this?" He asks almost hesitantly, his words coming out in a rush, the tension between you both rising by the second.

You moan desperately, body shuddering as his rough fingers tease your swollen pearl. "Exactly like this.." your breathing becomes uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

He can feel the effect his touch has on you, the sounds that escape you pushing him forward, the feeling of you responding to his touch. His breathing grows heavier, and his hand moves between your thighs, fingers pressing and teasing exactly as you guide him, a surge of arousal coursing through him at your sounds. 

"I want to make you feel good, Y/N," he whispers, his voice low and gravelly, filled with a growing hunger, but still a hint of uncertainty, as if he's not entirely sure of what to do.

Your moans become more needy, using your free hand you pull his face to yours desperately kissing him. Your legs tremble as you cum, your nails digging into his back as your thighs clench around his arm.

The suddenness of your kiss catches him off guard, his lips respond to yours urgently, a mixture of hunger and a subtle hesitancy in his movements. As you moan and tremble, he can feel it in every inch of his body, his own arousal growing at the sound of your pleasure. 

He kisses you back with a mix of need and an undeniable arousal, his strong arm holding you tightly against him. He can sense the tension breaking, your nails gripping tightly to him, your body pressing desperately into his touch, the heat and the taste of your lips driving him wild.

You shudder, leaning forward and pressing a few soft kisses into his neck as all the tension leaves you. "Fuck, Sergei.. so good.." you murmur, eyes fluttering shut as you slide your fingers over the marks you left on his back, gently soothing the reddened scratches.

He moans softly as you press kisses against his neck, a low, pleased rumble escaping his chest. He pulls you closer against him, his body pressed flush with yours as he wraps his arms around you. A mix of feelings swirling within him, uncertainty and hunger, his breath coming out in shallow gasps. 

His grip on you tightens slightly, holding you in place as you soothe the scratches you left behind, a subtle shiver running down his spine as your fingers graze over the marks. His heart pounds furiously in his chest, his body responding to every touch and every sound you make.

You slip out of his grasp, leading him to your bedroom as you slide out of your dress, standing in front of him in just your panties and bra. "I need you.." you whisper, eyes full of desire.

He follows you to the bedroom, his eyes scanning your body as you slip out of your dress, his gaze dark and intense as he takes in your form. His heart beats furiously in his chest, the hunger growing inside him, a mix of desire and uncertainty as his eyes roam over you. 

A low, quiet moan escapes him, his voice hoarse and filled with longing as he responds to your words. "I need you too, Y/N, I'm just unsure.. I've never..." He hesitates, his eyes filled with a combination of uncertainty and a growing hunger that he can no longer deny.

"It's all instincts," you murmur, bringing his hands to your breasts. "I can teach you... but just do what feels right." you brush your thumb over his cheekbone.

He swallows hard at your words, his eyes fixed on your form as his hands move to your breasts, a mix of uncertainty and a growing hunger filling him. As his palms cup your chest, he exhales deeply, his breath catching in his throat. He nods in response to your words, his eyes searching for guidance as he looks into yours. 

You reach back and unclasp your bra, freeing your chest to his hungry gaze, sliding out of your underwear and moving to undress him. 

A low growl escapes his throat, his eyes fixed on your chest, his gaze filled with hunger and a growing need. He can feel the anticipation coursing through him, his breath catching as you undress him, his heart beating thunderously in his chest. 

He can't help but respond to your touch, his body is eager for your guidance. As you move to undress him, his eyes linger on you, taking in every little detail as his mind seems to be clouded by arousal, a mix of lust and an unfamiliar sensation he can't quite name.

He slowly lowers himself onto his knees, his gaze dark and lustful as he stares up at you. Sergei presses wet kisses onto your thighs, the scent of your cunt making his eyes roll back as he spreads your legs. 

There's a mix of hunger and anticipation in his eyes as he drops to his knees before you, his gaze intense and dark with a growing desire, his hands caressing your thighs. As his kisses travel along your thighs, his breathing grows heavier, his eyes rolling back as he takes in the scent of your desires. 

He looks up at you, a mix of hunger and a subtle uncertainty in his gaze as he runs his tongue along your inner thigh, his movements gentle as if he's trying to gauge your reaction, to figure out what to do.

Your legs spread wider, giving him room to bury his face into your soaking pussy. He sticks his tongue out, slowly licking up your wetness, and his hands grasp onto your hipbones pulling you closer. 

He can feel the warmth and wetness against his lips, and his tongue flickers over your sensitive flesh, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. His grip on your hipbones tightens, pulling you closer to him, his fingers pressing into your smooth flesh. 

“Fuck..” you moan eyes fluttering shut as you lurch forward, his tongue slips into your pulsing hole, lapping up every liquid. Your hips instinctively begin to move against his mouth, grinding against his stubble. 

His eyes are trained on your face, watching every bit of pleasure wash over you. His mouth moves to your clit, his tongue gently brushing over the sensitive bud causing you to jolt and let out a needy moan. 

“Right there, jus’ like that..” you whine, fingers twisting in his hair as moans fall from your open mouth. He does as you instruct, his lips wrapping around your clit, his tongue teasing it roughly as his hunger grows. 

You let out a gasp, eyes rolling back in your head as you tremble, legs growing weak. Sergei holds your body up his mouth working against you as he chases your orgasm. 

Tears brim your eyes as the pleasure overwhelms you, with a loud moan you finally let go, cum spilling from you as you press onto his face trying to pull him away from your overly sensitive clit. 

He keeps lapping up at the liquids, hungry for more. “Sergei.. no more..” you whine, shaking above him. 

His face is glazed as he stands up, he can taste you on his lips, the hunger in his eyes still evident. He stands before you, his eyes filled with lust and a mix of newfound confidence. He looks you up and down, his eyes lingering on your trembling form as he holds onto you, trying to steady you.

You pull him into another hungry kiss, feeling his hands explore your body as he palms your breasts. His fingers tweaking your nipples as he sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap. 

He responds to your kiss with urgency and need, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every curve and contour, tracing over your skin with a kind of hunger and reverence. He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap, his grip firmer now, his own need and hunger growing more intense. 

He breaks the kiss, his breath heavy as he looks into your eyes, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and a hint of something more, a feeling that he can't quite comprehend.

“You’re so hard..” you murmur, feeling his clothed length pressing into your wet cunt. 

He moans softly at the feeling, his breath catches as you speak, and a low growl escapes him as he responds. "You... do this to me." His voice is low, his hands gripping your hips firmly, guiding you closer to him. "I can't control this... this feeling. I need you..." He admits, the sensations coursing through him overwhelming, his body responding to your proximity to him.

You begin to slowly move your hips against his, shaking as the roughness of the fabric brushes over your overstimulated clit. "Then take me.." you whisper into his ear, kissing and nipping at his neck.

He growls softly, his breath catches in his throat as you move against him, his senses flooding with sensations, his breathing is shallow, and his hands tighten on your hips. His eyes burn with hunger, his body moving in unison with yours. "I don't know if I can be gentle, Y/N," he whispers, his voice hoarse and desperate, "I need you. Now."

With trembling hands, Sergei guides you back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He can't ignore the need pounding through him, but he's cautious, knowing this is new to him. He carefully positions himself over you, his large hands supporting his weight as he aligns his cock with your entrance. 

His eyes flicker with uncertainty, but the heat in them is unmistakable. "Y/N, are you sure?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. You nod eagerly, your body arching up to meet his. He takes a deep breath, and with one swift, gentle thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. 

His eyes squeeze shut tightly as he feels you stretch around him, his whole body shaking with the effort to hold back his desire. He's so thick, so warm, and the sensation sends a new wave of pleasure through your core. 

"So good," he murmurs against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he starts to move, his hips tentatively pushing in and out. His inexperience is evident in his careful movements, but the need in his touch, the way his body responds to yours, is undeniably erotic. 

You wrap your legs around him, urging him to go deeper, and he responds, his strokes becoming more confident as he finds a rhythm that has you both panting and moaning in sync. Despite his lack of experience, his instincts guide him, and every touch, every stroke feels like it was designed to make you lose control. 

His gentle, yet firm grip on your hips, the way he kisses and nips at your neck, it's all too much, and you can feel another orgasm building, threatening to shatter you apart. "Y/N... I'm... I'm going to... " he stammers, his body tensing as he nears his release. 

With a final, deep thrust, he fills you with his stringy thick cum, his body collapsing on top of yours, his breath hot against your neck. He reaches down to your clit, brushing his forefinger over it desperate to make you cum again. 

A few more strokes cause you to shudder and tremble around his, your pussy clenching around his cock as you cum. “Holy shit.. you’re so good,” you murmur, pressing your lips to his hungrily.

[uhdrienne]

'tis the damn season

🍂 feat: old flame!lee jihoon x actress!reader

🍂 genre: sfw, fluff, angst, exes to lovers, city to town life

🍂 wc: ~8.5k

🍂 summary: an actress yet to make it big in the city, you return to your hometown for christmas for the first time since leaving. seasons have changed, along with life as you know it. jihoon, however, has not, and as you spend the festive season with him this year, you struggle to get past what your life could have been if your decision had been different.

🍂 author's note: merry christmas! nothing like a christmas story to really feel the season <3 there's another note right at the bottom if you'd like to know how the story came about... but meanwhile, enjoy the story and as always, let me know what you think 🎄

T h i s Y e a r

The trees outside the window pass in a blur. Your manager glances at you from the passenger seat, and you notice it from the periphery of your vision.

"You're excited to go home for Christmas, no?"

"I am," You reply, but your voice, try as you might to make it sound enthusiastic in the spirit of the festive holiday, your voice comes out hollow, empty.

Your manager clicks his tongue. "Then try to sound like it. Your parents would not be happy to see how sullen their daughter has become."

"Nothing has happened to me, Ray," You murmur. "I just... going home after so long..."

"That happens to every star I work with," Ray remarks. "Always so jarring for them to go home."

"Other stars, yes," You reply quietly. "I...am not one."

"Not with that attitude, you aren't!" Ray chirps. "You just haven't bloomed yet. Remember the feedback about your role in 'Blacklist'? The papers praised it."

"It was just a cameo, Ray. And it all died down within a week," You remind him, not unkindly, as you are still appreciative that he wanted to compliment you. "I think the agency wouldn't lose out if my contract isn't renewed."

"Nonsense!" Ray declares as the car pulls onto a familiar bridge. Up ahead, you see old thatched roofs, the houses looming larger as you near the village. "I will talk with them, see what auditions we can put you up for. You're talented, just undiscovered."

You chuckle. "Thanks."

"Have a good Christmas break, Y/N," Ray says comfortingly, as the car finally pulls to a stop in front of your front door. "It's the season to be with your family. Don't think about work."

You nod, beginning to clamber out of the car. "You too, Ray. See you in a couple weeks."

As the car finally pulls out of the cobbled path, you gather your belongings about you, and look up at a shout of your name.

"Dad?"

"My dear girl!" Your father enthuses, drawing you into a bone-crushing hug. "Welcome home, sweetie. Oh, you've lost weight, haven't you?"

"Hm? No, not that much," You smile at him. "I'm looking forward to eating my body weight in Mom's food, though."

"She's more excited to have you home," Your father laughs. "You coming home has been all she can talk about nowadays. I think Mrs. Lee and Jihoon have had enough--"

Your blood freezes at the mention of that name. "What?"

"Mrs. Lee and Jihoon, of course."

"O-Of course." You stammer. Thankfully, your dad doesn't pick up on it as he relieves you of your luggage.

Lee Jihoon. Lee Jihoon. Lee Jihoon.

A big oak tree, an old swing, two children perched upon it, side by side.

"I'm gonna go to the big city one day!" The young girl whoops.

"For what?" The boy asked.

"To live! Mom says there are tall buildings and cars and big shops. Wouldn't it be so fun?"

"Sounds boring." The boy yawns.

"I'll bring you along!" The girl says obstinately. "I'll show you how fun it can be."

"Fine," The boy replies, swinging his small feet back and forth. "Let's go together when we grow up."

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"Come on! I think your mother's going to freak herself out if we don't start going over."

"Coming!"

"I still don't get what you're doing in that grotty town."

"It's my hometown, Rina."

"Yeah, yeah, I forgot you came from a forest." Your (kind of) friend's voice drawls on the other end. "I'm off, I have a YSL fitting in like twenty minutes. I'll catch you soon if you decide to leave, yeah?"

"Okay, b-" The line beeping cuts you off. You lie back on your bed, massaging your temples.

Your mother had laugh-cried her way into a hug once you made it through the door, lamenting how hard it was to see her star daughter these days. It was all you could do to bite your tongue and avoid correcting her.

You were not a star. Not at all. While your friends in the industry had piles of scripts waiting for their perusal and selection, you simply accepted whatever you got.

You didn't miss the poorly concealed smiles of mock pity directed at you when everyone shared about their recent works at afterparties. But you knew you always did your best at every role you got, no matter how small they were. Yet... there were moments when you wondered if hard work truly surpassed luck and star quality.

Your muddled mind shifts back to the setting in the kitchen as happy voices and laughter drift upstairs. The look on Jihoon's face when you made eye contact for the first time in almost three years stops you in your tracks.

He looked as relaxed and calm as ever, dressed in a comfy-looking sweater and loose pants. Nursing a cup of coffee with his mother in your kitchen where he'd been countless times, he still resembled the young man you'd left behind.

But gone was the softness in his eyes from when you last saw him. Replacing it was a certain coldness, a tough look you couldn't place. That look had only intensified as he took you in, dressed in a thick fleece coat, black pants, and boot heels to match. He had nodded his head to you in greeting, but it had lacked warmth. Understandable, really.

You had flounced upstairs after the necessary greetings, citing a large load of luggage to unpack as your excuse.

A knock on your door makes you flinch. You open it, and pause at the person standing outside. "...Jihoon."

"Your mom says to come down. She says the food's almost ready and you look too thin."

"Right. Right, I'm coming."

He shrugs and then turns away. His footsteps draw away from your room.

You pinch colour into your cheeks, the way you did when things got too hard, and brace yourself.

Jihoon was staying for dinner.

"So tell us what you acted in!" Your mom says cheerfully as she heaps food onto your plate. "I keep wanting to keep up with your shows, but it's strange, I haven't seen them on the main channel. Are they on streaming platforms or something?"

Your face falls slightly. She was right, half right to be precise. Your shows rarely ever made it onto mainstream television. And if they did, your roles were usually so small you'd just appear onscreen once. With that, it was borderline impossible for you to appear on Netflix.

Your dad rolls his eyes. "It's Christmas, dear. We should give her a break. Why, she came home to see all of us! We know how busy she is."

You shoot a grateful glance to your dad, which he returns with a wink as he raises his glass of wine. "Cheers to that."

As everyone at the table raises their glasses to meet in a sweet clinking sound, and your lips meet the rim to drink, you almost forget the way Jihoon's eyes strayed away from his plate to you when your mother brought your job up.

You're about to wash up when your father enters your room.

"Dad!" You smile, slightly buzzed by the wine and the relaxation you felt, now that you were getting used to being home. "What's up?"

I just thought I'd check in on you before we turn in," He opens his arms, and you gladly step into them. He hums as he pats your head. "Are you getting used to being here? I know it's very different from the city, but.."

"I love it, Pop," You interrupt, understanding his worry. "Nothing can really beat home, right?"

"Right," He murmurs, and he coughs to mask up a suspiciously quick sniff. "Right. Well... sleep early. Tomorrow we'll go on a stroll, and see all the stuff you've missed. We can go visit Jihoon, if you want."

"Jihoon?"

"Yeah! He's got a big truck now, helping out with the family courier business... I heard he wanted to go to the city, but he's a good man, staying back here to help his parents."

You steel yourself to ask, "Did he ever say why he wanted to go to the city?"

"Hmm... he told your mom he wanted to go find an old friend when she asked. But, I suppose that can wait for him, since he hasn't mentioned leaving at all for a while."

You only hum in response.

"He didn't show it much, but his mother says he became much more quiet after you left. You two must have been really close, huh?"

The closest in the world, you wanted to tell him, but your own mouth just couldn't utter the words.

T h r e e Y e a r s A g o

"Flowers? For me?"

"Don't make a big fuss,"

"Tulips and baby's breath! Damn, you know the way to my heart. Hold on, I'll find a vase."

"Be quick. I'm taking you somewhere and we can't be late for it."

"Is it a reservation outside the town? Jihoon, I told you that breakfast place is so expensive for absolutely no rea-"

"It's not a reservation. I've already decided, we're going to the 24-hour diner since you said you like their waffles. Somewhere else."

"You're turning red. What's up?"

"The sky. Now hurry up."

He ended up bringing you to see the sunrise. He kissed you on the cheek in the backseat of his father's (much smaller back then) truck and when you got home close to noon, he brought you to the door, stumbled out a shaky and rushed "I like you", and squeezed your hand when you smiled at him.

It was the first of many dates, snuggling on the couch, overdramatic arguments about whether Rose let Jack freeze, and above all, the first moments of a lifetime spent together. You both knew it was a given.

T h i s Y e a r

"Uncle," Jihoon greets your father before his eyes land on you. His mouth tightens.

"Hi," You say meekly, feeling like the seven-year-old girl who would hide behind her parents to do introductions on her behalf. He doesn't respond, simply lets his eyes pass over you and back to your father.

Your dad doesn't seem fazed, as he remarks, "Cleaning the truck, Hoon? It's a good brand you've got there. Impressed whenever I see it."

Jihoon lets out a polite laugh. "Yes, well... I thought I'd invest in a good one since it'll be used for a while."

Your father turns to you. "Have you ever sat in a truck?"

You shake your head no. You never got to do that on set either.

He claps his hands. "Wonderful! Jihoon agreed to bring you out on a spin around the town. I have to pick up some things for your mom for Christmas Eve, you know how she gets. And I didn't think you'd want to spend your holiday grocery shopping with me. I'd feel at ease if Jihoon is here."

Your face tightens. "What do you mean?"

Jihoon clears his throat. "Uh-"

"You two were inseparable," Your father explains cheerfully. "Nothing like a good catch-up! Jihoon, drive safe, yeah?"

And then he's backing down the walkway, waving to you both. And now it's just you and your ex-boyfriend.

Jihoon looks away from you. "Get in, I guess."

And you do. No matter what Jihoon said, it always had a magnetic effect on you. Even if that same voice is now laced with unfamiliarity and slight coldness, you wouldn't say no to him.

Soon enough you're cruising through the small town, Jihoon's eyes trained on the road. As he slows down at a red light, you hesitantly ask, "How is everything with you?"

"Fine," He answers curtly, with no further elaboration.

Well. You can't say you were surprised.

You swallow and lean back into the seat.

"It's a nice truck," You remark lamely, in a desperate hope of starting conversation. "Your dad finally decided to get a new one?"

"It isn't my dad's," Jihoon replies, monotone still. "It's mine."

"Oh."

You should have known. The truck was much larger, its seats bigger than what you remember sitting in countless times as a teenager when his dad would pick you both up from school or to each other's houses.

After a short silence, you ask once more, "Where are we going?"

"To the coast. Your dad said youmissed the place."

"That's nice," You murmur back, emotions already deflated.

Of course, it had to be the coast. He brought you there to see the sunrise, and that was where you'd finally made it official. Clearly, the memories were just as raw for him, as you noticed him physically gritting his teeth as he stopped the truck.

"We don't have to go there-" You begin, but he cuts in stiffly. "I'm bringing you here to kill time while your dad does his stuff. Don't be mistaken."

"Right," You clear your throat awkwardly. "Of course not."

You're wondering how painful it would be to throw yourself out of the truck in embarrassment when your phone rings. It's Ray, so you mumble a quick "sorry" to Jihoon, who doesn't react, and pick up.

"Ray?"

"Hey, Y/N. How's the holidays so far?"

"Good? What's up?"

"Um..."

"Ray," You tease slightly, "You never call just to ask about my holidays. What's going on?"

"So...I just got back the results for your audition for 'Freak Show'."

"How is it?" You ask, breath caught in your throat. "Ray?"

A heavy sigh comes across the line. "I'm sorry, sweets. I know how much you wanted this role."

Your heart drops, and so does your expression.

"I'm trying to at least get you a supporting role since you liked the script so much, I'll let you-"

"Ray." You take a soft breath. Ray's voice halts. "Yeah?"

"Forget it."

"But-"

"Please... just forget it," You almost sound like you're begging. "I can't sit through doing another role no one's even going to remember. I've worked my ass off, Ray, I've gone for thousands of auditions for the past seven years, and not once have I ever gotten a callback for a lead role. I even tried to re-audition, but that damn assistant director spread the word of my so-called 'desperation', my fucking ex-manager did that stupid interview with the TV, and I ended up nowhere!"

"Y/N..."

"I'm sorry," You sigh immediately, trying to calm down. "I'm sorry about that. I'm really thankful that you help me, always. Without you, I might have been entirely jobless and the agency would have fired me."

"Oh, hun," Your manager murmurs comfortingly. "Like I said, you're a good actress. Really good. It's just a pity things went south and you met that assistant director who wanted to screw with you. Otherwise, you'd be on the front pages everywhere now."

"I...It's fine. I'll live. Just, Ray..."

"Hm?"

"Don't tell Rina and the rest if they call to ask, okay?"

"Your friends..?"

"Yeah. I... I want to tell them myself." More like no, you never want them to know. You can already see the fake disappointment on Rina's face when she whips her phone out to tell the chat made up of almost twenty actresses.

Ray agrees, and he tells you again not to stress too much before cutting the call. You lean against the cushion of your seat, closing your eyes, and when someone clears his throat you flinch. "Jihoon. Sorry."

He doesn't respond, simply looks at you as if you're a stranger, and you swallow nervously. "My manager called," You explain feebly, not that he even asked.

He nods once. "I heard." His eyes aren't exactly angry, they are still slightly cold, but there's something in them that seems more curious now.

You rub your eyes to snap yourself out, and you muster a smile at him. "So where are we going?"

"To get food," He replies. "That hot dog truck you liked a lot back then is here today, my dad told me."

"Oh, that's okay--"

"Don't eat hot dogs anymore?" He asks wryly, as he puts the truck in reverse and starts parking.

"Of course I do," You reply immediately, folding your arms. "Are you mad? Giving up on snacking?"

A flicker of a smile appears across his typically stoic face before he schools it and reverts to his stern expression. "I wouldn't know. You're stick thin, anyone would think you gave up fast food."

"Well. That just comes with exercise and occasional diets. And I'm not as thin as you say," You murmur. "But no. I wouldn't give up late-night cravings. My manager's one of the nicer ones."

Jihoon snorts slightly as he turns the engine off. "Thank goodness for that, I suppose?"

You shrug, and motion for him to lead the way to the hot dog stall as you climb out of the truck. You follow him down a rough patch of grass and rocks, all while he maintains a healthy distance. The sun warms your skin, and you breathe in the fresh, salty coast air.

"I'm sorry about the role, by the way. You must have worked extra hard for it," Jihoon says suddenly, hands in his pockets as he walks next to you, now back on solid ground, and you turn to face him, your face colouring in... embarrassment? Shame? "You heard my manager?"

"No. Just you, I put the pieces together."

Oh. "Right."

"Is it not...going well?" He motions with his hand vaguely. "Sorry, I don't mean to pry."

"It's fine, Jihoon," You stifle a reluctant laugh. "You can ask."

He stays silent so you continue. "I'm not getting any lead roles, only minor ones even if I put everything I have into it..." You sigh. "My friends don't really mention me, or they make little remarks about my rejections. As an adult, you'd think I shouldn't be bothered, but it just... it gets loud sometimes."

A few moments pass, your sneakers shuffling through the sand, when Jihoon finally says, "They don't seem like friends to me."

You let out a half-chuckle. "That's how showbiz is, I guess."

"No," Jihoon disagrees. "It doesn't matter if it's the industry or not. Friends are here to lift you up, not celebrate your downs. They shouldn't be doing that to you."

He goes silent after and as you get nearer, the food truck coming into view, you mull over what he just told you.

"I guess you’re right," You finally concede after a small pause. "They really shouldn't."

He says nothing more about it, and simply exchanges swift greetings with the stall owner, who seems to know him well. You try to smile weakly at the owner, but with your emotions still running high, you can only hope it doesn't come out as a grimace.

He gets hot dogs for both of you, and you look on gratefully and with a little surprise as he reels off your order word for word: a large hot dog bun with mustard, ketchup, and extra grilled onions. He gets a soda for each of you too, and you almost groan in satisfaction when the food is done. He looks on, looking slightly amused when you dig in.

"Not your usual fine dining concept, sorry." He says as he watches you take a big bite.

"Are you kidding? Way better," You mumble through your mouthful, and he snorts before taking a bite himself.

Just like that, the tension from earlier dissolves into something a little softer, a little gentler.

"So," Jihoon says later, as you're polishing off your soda. "What's been up with you these few years?"

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't come back to visit your parents. They don't say it, but they get really worried when you don't call."

"Oh."

He raises his eyebrows at you, prompting you to go on.

"Life gets in the way." You explain, resigned. "I want to call home too, but I'm either fighting for roles that I know I'll never get or I'm trying out for more auditions. Plus, the past few years weren't a good time."

"Why?"

"Old manager," You reply, frowning at the sheer memory of the mess you engulfed yourself in two years ago. "Put me on stupid diets for no reason and when this assistant director snitched on me for being 'desperate for roles' when I tried reapplying, he gave a secret interview to the reporters."

Jihoon scowls slightly. "Right. I heard about that. Prick." You laugh out loud. "Yeah. A real prick."

"And then?"

"Not much else. I was trying to clear my name, and by then I wasn't getting that many roles either."

Jihoon doesn't say anything, and you steal a glance at him. He looks... conflicted would be a good way to put it. Like he doesn't know what to say or do.

Before you can think of something to say, anything to dispel the sudden tension, he suddenly gets to his feet. "Come on. I'm taking you home."

You raise your eyebrows. "Okay... is everything alright?" Was that your imagination, or did he just clench his teeth?

"Fine." Yup, he was definitely gritting his teeth. You're beyond perplexed. But with how angry he already looks, you're not sure you want to aggravate him further, so you get up, toss your cup into the bin, and follow him back to the truck.

The whole journey is spent in silence, and a lot of uncertain glances from your end.

When he drops you off at your home twenty minutes later, he doesn't say anything as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

"Jihoon?" You ask, turning to face him in the seat.

"Yes?"

His face freezes slightly when you tell him, "Thanks for today. I had lots of fun."

He swallows nervously, evident in the bob of his Adam's apple as he shrugs. "No problem."

"And…um… thanks for still remembering my hot dog order." You say softly, before turning to climb out of the truck.

When you get to your front porch, and then climb the stairs to your room, you look out the window.

He's still there.

T h r e e Y e a r s A g o

"Did you just say you're...leaving?"

"I got the audition. It's my big break... if I don't take the chance now, I might not ever get to. It's my dream, you know that."

"What else?"

"Huh?"

"Your dreams this, your big break that. Don't you have anything else to say?"

"...What can I say?"

"What do you mean, what can you say? What about us?"

T h i s Y e a r

The next morning arrives in the form of your mother standing over your bed. “Hey, darl, wake up!”

“Mhmm?” You mumble from under your covers and you hear her chuckle before she peels your blanket back.

“Jihoon’s mom is coming over to help with Christmas Eve dinner,” she explains. “But I totally forgot about the school donation.”

“School donation…?” What is she talking about?

“Oh! Right. So we donate a bunch of food every year to your old school. You remember it, right? Near the Methodist church?”

“Yeah,” You yawn, stretching up in bed and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“They pass it to orphanages for children who don’t have Christmas dinner this season. I’ve had it prepared since this morning, but with Jihoon’s mom and the dinner, I don’t think I’ll have time to drop by the school,” She looks regretful. “Would you mind helping with that, dear?”

“Sure,” You reply, cracking your neck. “I’ll handle it. Don’t worry, mom.”

“Thanks, hun,” Your mom says, looking relieved. “It’s quite a lot. We had lots to give this year. Mrs Lee said she’d send Jihoon to help you.”

“Huh?”

“I wouldn’t send you into the cold holding tons of heavy bags!” Your mom fusses. “Wash up and eat before you go — your dad got the most amazing bread yesterday.”

After she leaves, you sit there, wide awake.

Jihoon is coming.

That fact alone has you hurrying to tidy yourself for god knows what, even applying a bit of mascara and lip gloss to salvage your face.

Your phone pings as you start tidying your table, and you look at Ray's name popping on the screen.

"Remember your audition and screen test with the director of 'Who Knows Why'?" The text reads. "He's making the final decision for the female lead of his new holiday film. This guy has high standards and his films are very popular, but he likes picking new faces over the same old stars. A few of your friends are in the choices too, but...I just have a feeling this could be it. I'll let you know again. Happy holidays!"

You sigh. Who Knows Why made headlines for weeks when it hit the cinemas, critics and film connoisseurs alike singing its praises. Unless a miracle selected you while you were sleeping, you very much doubted you would make it past.

By the time you get downstairs and have a few pieces of the toasted bread — which is amazing, all warm and toasty and fresh — the doorbell rings, and your mom rushes to get the door.

“Mrs Lee!” She exclaims, hurriedly ushering the other lady into the house. “Thanks for coming by today.”

As the two exchange pleasantries, Jihoon steps into the house, removing his boots and smiling slightly when your mother coos over him too.

He merely nods in acknowledgement when he sees you. The contrast makes your stomach clench slightly.

“Ah, Jihoon,” His mother says. “Make sure to help Y/N with the bags of food, yeah?”

He simply nods again, a soft “okay” escaping his mouth, before he approaches you.

“Let’s get going,” He says conversationally.

“Okay,” You reply nervously. He raises his eyebrows as he walks to the heaping table.

He picks out most of them. Especially the biggest and bulkiest ones.

It’s fifteen minutes later when you’re walking down the path when he breaks the silence. “Are you alright?”

“Hm?” You ask. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

“Nothing. I thought with the role thing… never mind.”

“Oh.” Truth be told, you’d barely thought of it since the hot dog outing. “Uh… I mean, what’s past is past, right?”

“I suppose.” He replies, non-committal.

And there it goes again. The choking, awkward silence that just doesn’t seem to dissipate no matter what either of you.

There’s a bit of fuss when you reach the school, what with all the grunt work passing over the food and making sure the right people get the right things, and that provides a little relief, at least for an hour or so.

After it’s all over, you find yourself at the school gates where you first met Jihoon, with the very same man, now twenty years on.

“It hasn’t changed much,” You observe.

Jihoon shrugs. “I guess. It’s like very little time passed.”

That roadblock comes back.

You swallow. “Um, Jihoon.”

He makes a humming sound in response.

“Are we…okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” You admit, pulling at your sweater. “You seemed angry when we were out the other day and…”

“I’m not mad.”

“Right.”

You're not convinced.

“I’m really not.” He insists, although you haven’t even said anything to contradict him.

“I know. You said so.”

“Well, you sure don’t sound like you believe me.” He says, rather scathingly.

You shoot him a quizzical look. It was a choice between acting dumb or admitting that after all this time, he could still read you like a book.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I know.” He laughs bitterly. “You never do, anyway.” He turns away as he says this.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, slightly affronted.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” He says in a sudden show of annoyance. “Not even one call all these years, and when you finally show up back here, I find out how shit your so-called dream life has been. But I don’t know! It could just be me.”

“Jihoon-”

“And I’m just thinking, you gave up all of this?” He waves his arm outward. “You gave up everything back here… for what you have now? Was it even worth it in the end?”

“I thought that was what I wanted.” You try to answer, but it comes out pathetically. He was spot-on.

You left your family, your home, the love of your life… for something that ended up being unworthy in the slightest.

And you were now reaping the consequences.

“I…” Jihoon rubs his face, his anger now cooled into something like resignation. “You made your choice. I get that. I’m trying to understand. I just… I don’t know why you thought the life you have now, with fake friends and unnecessary drama, was better than peace.”

"It wasn't that I wanted to go through all of that... I --"

He stares at you, waiting for you to go on. But it's as if someone has sealed your mouth shut, as nothing escapes it.

T h r e e Y e a r s A g o

"You won't even bother trying? Will you fight for us?"

"How can I? The agent made it clear... once I step out, dating is out of the question.."

"So that's it? You're just going to leave for some big city, and I'll just be stuck here, waiting for someone who's already made her choice?"

"Jihoon, I... fuck, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"All of it. I let you down."

Never had you seen your boyfriend regard you with as much disappointment as he did now.

"You did, Y/N. You really did. God, I thought--I thought we mattered more than those billboards."

"Jihoon-"

"But there's no point, right? You already made your decision. You don't intend to look back at all, do you?"

"I-"

Jihoon sighed, and bent his head in resignation, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally raised his head. "Then why are you still here?"

"What?"

"You heard me. I won't hold you back. Go on."

Silence, the raging kind that had never once blossomed between you both, took over.

After what seemed like an eternity, your mouth opened.

"We... we leave on the 17th."

He doesn't look up from his lap as you exit his room, down the creaking stairs of his family home for the last time, and you come face to face with his mom.

"Chase your dreams, dear," She'd said, clasping your hands, although you thought you saw unshed tears in her eyes as your own streaked down your face. "Come home and visit us sometime. Jihoon will be okay."

You did leave on the 17th. Jihoon turned up with his parents, and as his mom kissed you on the forehead and gave you her blessings, his gaze stayed on you, but he didn't step forward to say goodbye.

He kept looking on as you climbed into the car, and in the rearview mirror as it pulled away, you thought you saw him start to raise his hand in a momentary wave.

But then he was far gone behind you, and now you only had the road ahead for company.

T h i s Y e a r

The truck ride back is silent again. Jihoon doesn't even look in your direction, except to check his blind spots and adjacent lanes. Your mind is equally messed up, thinking about everything he said to you.

Was he right? Had you lost your way, and bargained everything you could have lived with, in exchange for friends who couldn't care less about you, and a career akin to a peakless, uphill slope?

Finally, when the silence becomes a thick, choking fog, you finally speak up. "Jihoon?"

He glances to you for a fraction of a second. "Yes?"

"If..." You struggle to find the words. "If... I hadn't made that choice..."

His head turns to you fully, his gaze now sharp. "What?"

You have to plan out what you want to say, word for word, before you go on. "If I chose to stay back then... would we have lasted? Would we have..."

Jihoon turns back to the road. "Would we have stayed together? Do you want my honest answer?"

You nod imperceptibly. "More than anything."

"We would," He says quietly, but with no hesitation as he makes a left. "I would have told you that we should set up a joint account and plan for a home together in maybe three years. I would've told you that we could go on weekly grocery runs and start thinking about moving in together. And I probably would have told you that I love you."

You freeze.

"It sounds unnecessary and stupid, but I don't want you to burden yourself with that, now," He says, sitting back and looking straight ahead. "I know you don't belong here, or to me, anymore. That's life, and we all move on, one way or another. Plus it's Christmas, and you're here now, so.... you should enjoy it before you leave."

And that's that. Just a reminder for you to enjoy yourself before you inevitably have to go. None of you need to speak to know that the conversation is over.

The drive resumes in silence.

You can't sleep. You've tossed and turned a million times, head pounding with exhaustion, but something's just stopping your eyes from shutting. Unfortunately, you know exactly why.

Jihoon's there in your mind. Sometimes the calm, steady person he's always been, sometimes a roaring, dark figure glaring at you the way he did when you said you were leaving.

Around two in the morning, you finally sit up. You have to go to Jihoon. You don't know what you're going to say, but if you don't find him, he will never stop haunting you.

You slip on a warm sweater and shoes, and gently close the front door behind you. The village is truly ready for the festivities, all twinkling golden lights and lightly falling snow. But none of that matters as you pad through the white fluff towards Jihoon's home.

When he opens the door, he's dishevelled, but doesn't show signs of having just woken up. "Uh... it's two a.m...?"

"I know it is," You say apologetically. "I'm sorry. I, uh... I couldn't sleep."

He raises his eyebrows. "Ah. I see."

You're beginning to regret this. Maybe you should've thought this through. "Look, it's okay, I'm really sorry for bothering you--"

"Guess that makes two of us," He says conversationally, as if it isn't the dead of night. "Come in. It's cold."

You wait for him to walk in before following him into the house. Try as you might, you just can't shake the feeling of nostalgia that rushes through you as you walk around the house you've visited a million times.

You know that his favourite grey mug is on the cabinet shelf above the sink. The earl grey cookies he can't live without is on the counter. The stairs still creak a little when you step on the floorboards nearby. You know him and everything that belongs to him. You know it all.

You take a seat at his table. "Will your parents be upset that I came at this hour?"

He eyes you wryly. "You know silly questions get silly answers."

You know your question is nearly pointless. You've left late, slept over, even gotten drunk in this house and his parents still doted on you nevertheless.

You shrug. "Doesn't hurt to ask."

He hums as he reaches for a hot cocoa mix. "Then my answer is no. Nobody's upset."

Five minutes later, he places a cup of steaming hot chocolate in front of you and sits down.

"So, bad dreams?"

"Huh?"

"You said you couldn't sleep. Did you have a bad dream?"

"No. Not really bad. Just... disturbing."

He raises his eyebrows. "I think that's the same thing."

"Dreams are like... like movies." You try to explain, a smile forming on your face. "Bad dreams are horrors and thrillers. Disturbing dreams are more like... like they could be any genre, but some parts and some scenes affect you more."

"Right," He says. "So Titanic was disturbing, then?"

"Very!" You blurt before you can stop yourself. "Because it still confuses me to this day, how on earth didn't Jack fit on the door?"

He breathes out a chuckle, leaning back on his chair. "It confuses me how you compare dreams to movies. They're in two complete worlds altogether."

"Admit it. It's a good analogy."

"It is," He admits. "I didn't think of that before."

You look at him, and you wonder how you can continue the conversation from here. He sits there for a few more minutes and stands up. "I'll go set up a room for you. It's snowing pretty badly, and you'll be soaked through if you walk back. I'd drive you, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to see anything."

He starts to leave the room, and you grab his arm. "Jihoon."

He looks down at your physical contact point. "Yes?"

"Earlier, when you said...when you said that movies and dreams are in two different worlds."

He looks at you. Staring unblinkingly, eyes never avoiding yours. He seems just as about to ready to confront this truth as you are.

Your dream was the movie screen, and his dream was you. Two completely, otherworldly different ones, but dreams and wishes nonetheless. Maybe now that you were once again back where you started, they could finally align.

"You weren't just talking about actual dreams, were you?"

Jihoon stiffens and steps back. "We're not doing this again."

"No, wait --" You say, closing your eyes to gather your thoughts. "I'm not going to make you tell me anything. I just want to know if you meant something else."

Jihoon swore he would give himself a pat on his back as he leaned down to look you square in the eye. "And if I said I did?"

You swallow and look at him. Your heart is pounding, and all logical thinking has been long thrown out of the window. "I'd thank the heavens for bringing me home."

His mouth finds yours and you pull him down to meet you more. It's not a cold war anymore. It's no longer a battle to see who can withstand the silence better.

And there is no more silence, you realise, because Jihoon is sniffling and your cheeks are stained with two warm droplets. "Jihoon?"

"I'm sorry," He mumbles, making no effort to withdraw. "I couldn't help it. I...I missed you. Not just this," He squeezes your hand which has somehow intertwined with his, and you squeeze back with the little strength you can muster. "Just...you. Drinking hot chocolate in my kitchen in the middle of the night, being within two streets' distance of me... eating hot dogs in my truck and sending food when Christmas comes."

You blink back tears. "I'm sorry for missing out all these years."

"Don't be sorry," He replies, imperceptibly softly, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek. "Just be with me."

You spend the night. And the night after, and the one after that.

The next three days pass like a fever dream. You go skating at the outdoor rink with Jihoon, laugh at how he wobbles his way to you like a baby deer learning how to walk for the first time, drink hot peppermint tea at a market stall after dinner, and let Jihoon tuck you into his coat on the walk home.

You didn't want this to end. No matter what. Ray hadn't yet gotten back to you on the audition results, and you decided to take it as a no and move on, just as you always did.

Of course, life always found a way to rear back and bite you hard, as your phone rings. With gloved hands, you pull it out of your coat pocket to see Ray's name again.

"Ray!" You chuckle, a little heady and happy from the day's events.

"So someone's having a good Christmas," Ray teases. "Well, my friend, it's going to get a lot better."

"What?" You ask, your boots crunching to a stop. Next to you, Jihoon also stops walking, his eyes wholly on you in concentration.

"The director of 'Who Knows Why'," Ray says, poorly concealed excitement in his voice. "He called me today, said he wants you to take the role! Your friends didn't get it even though they're so famous, and guess what? You did."

"Ray." You say, firmly. "Repeat that."

"You. Made. It. Out of over 100 actresses. I'm not joking!"

You freeze, look up and lock eyes with Jihoon, who raises his eyebrows in question.

"Oh, my god," You say, and it all comes out in a rush. "You're...you're serious."

"As a heart attack." Ray promises. "So, when can I come pick you up? Day after Christmas?"

"Ah." You hesitate. The filming would involve you....leaving. And if you were to stay and prepare for press tours, interviews, meet-and-greets... when were you returning?

"Can I call you back? I'll check..."

"Sure, hon," Ray replies cheerfully. "Go tell your folks the good news! They're gonna be thrilled."

You laugh weakly and then hang up. Then you turn to your lover (is he?).

"So, what was that about?" He asks, resuming the walk.

"I..."

At his concerned look, you finally sigh. "I got a lead role. In the film of a really popular director."

"That's amazing....oh." His face falls as he comes to the conclusion you fear. "Does that mean...you have to leave, don't you?"

You take a soft breath, shuffling your feet back and forth nervously. "I suppose so. I...I have to."

And to make matters worse, your phone pings with a text, your face souring as you read her message. Then, Jihoon watches as you put your phone back in your coat without another word.

"Who is that?" He demands. He knows he sounds like a little child, but he doesn't stop himself. He doesn't like the bitter expression on your face and that's all he knows.

"A friend." You reply.

"Real friend or...?"

You sigh and fish your phone out and pass it to him. He reads the simple "Fuck you" message from Rina, and undiluted anger crosses his face. "What the-"

You shrug. "She was probably one of the actresses hoping to be selected. Not much I can hide from you now."

He chuckles bitterly. "Yeah, we're not hiding the fact that you have to leave in maybe three days. Back to people like this-" He gestures to your phone. "- and who knows what else."

"I'll try to come back often," You say, although it doesn't seem convincing in the slightest. Jihoon doesn't buy a word of it either, judging by his expression.

"Really?" He says. "You haven't even been able to find time to come home for years now. I know you've gotten your big break and I'm happy for you, but... I don't know what to do if you leave for years on end again."

"I'll try to shuttle back and forth," You insist. "I have to."

"Well," Jihoon says, still looking at you doubtfully. "Don't make it an obligation."

"No, let's talk about it," You insist. "I just...I've never gotten a lead role before. It's not just... it's not just a role I can give up right away."

"Well, then choose. Tell me what you want." He replies, disappointment crossing his face.

"I...I haven't decided yet." You say lamely. "I need...I need a little more time to think."

He simply continues looking at you, before turning away and pacing back and forth. All you can do is watch him helplessly. "I just don't want to think about when this...will be over." Fling? Relationship?

It's as if he already knows what you're thinking about as he smiles sadly. "See, you don't even know what label to put on us."

"I just don't like when it has to be one over the other." You say, hugging yourself and staring at your shoes. "I've missed you. You know I love you and I want to continue seeing you, but I can't just give up on what I've wanted for so long."

But Jihoon is already shaking his head and starting to walk. "It doesn't have to be one way or another. Because I think you've already made your decision. I'm taking you home."

And it was happening all over again. Days had passed with no interaction with him, and even on Christmas Day itself, he was nowhere to be found.

Too fast, the evening when Ray came to pick you up loomed near. Your father helped you pack, but behind the reminders to bring your makeup bag and home slippers was a tinge of sadness. Your old folks didn't even know when they'd next see you.

When Ray comes out of the car to pick you up, out steps another lady with him, who nods to you in greeting.

"This is Rachel, the producer for the movie," Ray explains. "Since it’s gonna be a holiday romance-comedy, she wanted to visit your town to see what it looked like in Christmas."

You smile, and nod eagerly. "It's beautiful. You won't regret it."

Rachel smiles back, then speaks to Ray. "You guys stay here. I'll go take a quick walk and be right back."

As she leaves, you look at Ray. "Can we talk?"

Ray raises an eyebrow. "What about?"

"I... was wondering." You say. "I have a bit of a predicament at home. I'd like to stay longer. Could you maybe...push for the filming to be delayed?"

Ray looks surprised. "You want to wait?"

"More than anything."

A smirk starts blooming on Ray's face. "For a guy?"

At your delay, he slaps your shoulders. "Great! So, is the lucky guy totally alright with your job? That's a good man right there."

"Actually..."

You sprint towards Jihoon's house. Your attention is fixed on trying not to fall flat into the snow and to get to him as quickly as possible. Other townspeople are gawking, probably wondering why someone is in such a hurry, practically flying down the street.

At his door, you start knocking hard. His mom opens the door, and to your dismay, she explains that Jihoon hasn't been home since the morning.

"Maybe he's at the coast," She suggests, and you have never set off so fast before.

You implore Ray to drive you, and despite his reservations, a call from Rachel confirms that he has enough time to bring you there in his car for you to find Jihoon.

“So I’m now a party who can help you find the love of your life,” He teases you. “What do you owe me if this works out?"

"I'll make sure I land another film after this."

"You're on."

Ray barely puts the brakes on before you're opening the door. "I'll see you in a bit!"

"Should I prepare tissues?" He calls back. You pray not as you frantically scan your surroundings for a familiar, dark-haired man.

And like the heavens are answering you, you find him. Sat upon the roof of his truck, staring out at the coast at the setting sun.

"Jihoon?" You call as you get nearer to him. The man freezes, then turns slowly to face you. "I thought you were heading back. Why are you here?"

"To talk," You say softly, trying to catch your breath. "I... I think we left some things unsaid."

"No," He disagrees, crossing his legs over to face you while still sitting. "I owe you an apology."

"What?"

"I shouldn't have tried to make you choose me over your dreams. I know how hard you've been working, and you're finally getting to your peak... I should have supported you. I'm sorry. It was selfish of me."

"No," You insist, waving your hands. "I made that mistake first. Years ago, when I decided to leave, I didn't put you in front of my thoughts. I....I thought we'd be okay."

Jihoon shrugs and gives you a sad smile. "I'll always root for you. So... no hard feelings. Go ahead and shine. I promise we're okay. I'll never have bad feelings for you no matter what happens."

You shake your head. "That-"

"Y/N!" You hear Ray calling for you. Seriously? At this moment?

"What?" You hiss furiously.

"Check your phone!" You hear his hushed response.

"Later!"

"No! Now!"

You sigh and pull it out at his insistent glare, and when you look down at the message, your eyes light up. You shoot him a quizzical glance. Are you serious?

At his frantic nod, you turn back to Jihoon.

"You should go," Jihoon repeats. "They must be waiting for you."

"They are," You nod. He nods back, eyes not leaving yours.

"See you in a bit."

He cocks his head in confusion.

"Haven't you heard?" You smile a bit at his nonplussed expression.

"The filming location shifted."

"What?"

"I'll be here, apparently. For the next half a year, or so. The producer decided this place must be too good to pass up."

His jaw drops, and he slides off the truck, as if his surprise disabled his sense of balance. “You’ll be… here?”

“For a while,” You shrug nonchalantly, as if your heart isn’t beating fast and hard. “So, if… if you still want to talk, and maybe spend spring together… I’m down.”

He drops himself off the vehicle and his boots hit the ground with a crunch. “Say that again.”

You smile and take a few steps towards him. “I’m here for spring, Jihoon. And the seasons after that…we’ll figure it out one at a time. How does that sound?”

He lets out a laugh then, choked up but ecstatic. He makes sure, steady steps towards you, arms open in welcome and love, and as you step into his warmth, you let out a relieved, happy sigh and look up at him.

“Merry Christmas, Jihoon.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

N e x t Y e a r

"I forgot how cold it can get every time," Jihoon hisses as another gust of wind hits.

"It's worse in town," You tease. "I barely feel anything now."

"Yes, yes, you with your big girl city habits," He shivers. "I'll pick that bone with you once we get home, I swear."

"I'm looking forward to it." You chuckle, and he squeezes you tight. As resigned as he is to the eccentric habits you picked up in the city, he's just happy you're here to spend this Christmas with him. And the one next year, and the one after that.

Home. Our home. You were a part of his home, and him yours.

Yes, you thought, even as you leaned against him and felt him wrap his coat around you despite knowing you weren't cold at all. As long as you were with him, you were home.

a u t h o r ' s n o t e:

merry christmas eve! i hope you enjoyed this story every bit as much as i enjoyed writing it 🎄 i started thinking about this close to october (because i missed my eras tour experience so much 😭) and wondered if anyone would like a crossover between seventeen and tswift!! so here goes, in time for christmas and your spotify wrapped, 'tis the damn season 💌

🎼 refer below for the fic playlist (with lots of svt, taylor swift, and sweet, romantic christmas tracks)

taglist: @jeonghnie

f i c p l a y l i s t :

'tis the damn season -- taylor swift

mirrorball -- taylor swift

lover - taylor swift

paper rings - taylor swift

daylight - taylor swift

new year's day - taylor swift

ours - taylor swift

i love you, i''m sorry - gracie abrams

risk - gracie abrams

all my love - seventeen

falling for you - seventeen

headliner - seventeen

lie again - seventeen

second life - seventeen

to you - seventeen

my santa claus - jessie james decker

glow - brett eldredge

all i want for christmas is you - michael buble

kiss you this christmas - why don't we

take me home for christmas - dan + shay

[cmdrfupa]

Dating toji was the best decision you’d made in the last few months. Slow pace, genuine connection and a hot man who looks like he eats bricks for lunch. Operation: First Overnight Stay is underway. And apparently so is the first snow storm of the season.

cn: Toji. Toji being hot. Toji being himself (he’s soft yanno).

The snow started much earlier that you expected, the kind of lazy, drifting flakes that almost whispered promises of an impending storm. You hadn’t thought much of it at first, snow wasn’t known for sticking around you so you figured it’d be gone by morning.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, however, the snow was coming down in thick sheets. And while the news app on your phone should’ve been buzzing with a winter storm advisory it was hushed while iMessage, Instagram, discord and the few noti’s on from tumbler had top priority.

“Where the hell is this man?” You glanced out the window, streetlights emanating their soft golden glow over the accumulating snow. It was peaceful ­ quiet in a way you didn’t often get to experience in the city. But tonight was not suppose to be about quiet. It was suppose to be your first over night with Toji staying at your place. A sleepover date if you will. Or what you loved to start calling Toji Time.

You’d spent the entirety of the afternoon nervously preparing from tidying up your bedroom, lighting a couple of your good candles in the living room, and even debating whether to pull out the joy cons to beat his ass in a few games.

It wasn’t feeling like just another date. You invited the man over to your house, it was the start of something more consistent. And now with a heavy snow fall, you couldn’t help but wonder if anything about the evening ahead would go anything like you planned.

A sharp knock broke your thoughts and you hurried to open the door. Toji stood there leaning casually against the doorframe with grocery bags in one hand and a duffel bag slung over his other shoulder.

Snow dusted his hair and the shoulders of his coat. He gave that usual cocky smirk that was always firmly in place.

“You weren’t gonna let me freeze out there, were ya?” he asked, leaning in to plant a small kiss on the top of your head.

“You’re late.” you moved out of the way and he stepped inside.” “And whats with the groceries?”

“Storms coming.” he replied, sitting the bags down before shaking his jacket off. “The roads were already looking dicey so I took my time. And I figured you’d forget to stock up.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You knew there was a storm coming?”

He raised and eyebrow, reaching into one of the bags and pulling out a roast. “You didn’t?”

Of course you didn’t. Why would you check the weather when your plans for the evening involved nothing more than a quiet dinner and, maybe, the two of you falling asleep on the couch after watching the first half of the third Lethal Weapon movie.

But now, as you watched him unpack bread, popcorn, fresh veggies, pasta, snacks that could feed 20 and even a twelve-pack of beer. It started to dawn on you that tonight was in fact not going to go as planned.

“So you planned on getting snowed in here?” you crossed your arms then made your way across the room.

Amused, Toji shot you a look. “Got a better idea? Roads are a mess already and the storm part is about to really kick. And besides,” he added, a grinch like grin spreading across his face. “This doesn’t feel like a complaint but more like a subtle nod of approval.”

With a sigh, you resisted the urge to throw something at him before cracking a smile. “You will have duties.

“Of course.”

“You’ll have to cook if it ends up being more than a day or so. And clean your pee off the seat.”

Toji came up to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. “I’m no slob. Piss belongs in the bowl and I lift the seat. Have some faith in the man you’re dating.”

“Uh huh..” you squinted at him. “Treat my home like a pig sty and you're sleeping out in that ball freezing cold, Fushiguro.” your finger felt like it hit a brick wall as you poked his chest.

He chuckled, low and rumbling, as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”

You both settled into the evening. Date night not going exactly as planned but made the best of it despite passing out only an hour into the second Lethal Weapon movie.

As the night stretched on and the snowstorm did indeed worsen with each passing hour, the atmosphere was all that you hoped.

It felt less empty, more warm and far more cozy. You began to wonder if being snowed in together might not be the worst thing after all.

______

The smell of coffee, the sound of some gruff voice singing and the lack of heat stirred you from your deep sleep om day two.

“I thought I turned the heat on last night.” The grogginess in your voice was a simple whisper as you rolled out of bed and grabbed the nearest long sleeve you could find. With a little more effort, you shuffled out of your bedroom and towards the source of your shortened sleep.

There was something making your stomach feel fluttery as you walked towards the kitchen. The closer you got, the clearer the sound of Chris Cornell’s voice became as your view became clearer: Your heat was on but the personal heater that had been keeping you warm was now shirtless in your kitchen flipping a piece of french toast.

So casual, maybe a little too comfortable with his sweatpants sitting right below his waist. His shoulders broad and slightly flexing even with as small of a movement as plating french toast then dipping another piece before.

Equal parts irritation and attraction.

“Not polite to stare, babydoll.”

You straightened up as if he could see you even with his back turned. “I didn’t know you got up this early.”

Toji turned 45 degrees, giving you just a peek at the full breakfast he’d almost finished cooking. “Not a fan of staying in bed long. At least my stomach isn't a fan” He smiled and nodded towards the coffee pot on the counter closest to you. “I remember you saying you liked that bustelo cafe stuff. I hope its strong enough.”

“You didn’t have to,” You shuffled over to the machine, seeing that a mug was already sitting out. “And the mug I use. Thank you, Toji.”

“Of course. Thought I’d at least feed you good if I’m going to be in your space for a couple days. Though,” Toji flipped the french toast over then turned to you ‘ If you want to pay me back, you can via those little crispy shits you brought to me that one day.”

You sucked in your lips, trying your best not to laugh as you poured your creamer in. “The little crispy shits are called palmiers. And I got you.”

“Palmiers. Crispy shits. Whatever, they are delicious. You know how to make a man ache and yearn with those things.” he winked before turning back, taking out the final piece of toast and plating it.

“Need any help?” you tried peeking around him to see the rest of what he had plated and he moved his shoulders to hide it.

“Aht. Sit.” Toji blocked your view but you didn’t miss his grin as he did. “I’m almost done. Just tell me how you like your eggs and we’ll be ready to eat.”

You watched him almost expertly crack the eggs open as he cooked them to your liking. Then you watched how his weight shifted from one hip to the other as he leaned against the counter.

There was something about just how his pants were sitting that made you feel a rush of heat across your neck. This man was built. A true dad bod with a slight pudge that sat atop his waist band. Stocky and plenty to climb. “Are you not cold just wearing pants?”

He sat the plate in front of you then sat his across from you. “I’m honestly a little warm. From the cooking probably.”

Toji went to pour himself some coffee, sipping the black drink and humming as he shuffled back to the table. “You were like a heater last night. Will definitely be needing that heated cuddle again tonight.”

You began to cut into your french toast, taking a bite and closing your eyes as the cinnamon and vanilla flavors mingled on your tongue. You heard Toji snicker and it brought you back. “What?”

He turned his smile downward and shook his head as he took a bite of his fried egg then bacon. “Just sounds like you enjoyed sleeping with me.” He chewed and kept his eye contact. “I enjoyed sleeping next to you also.”

You hadn’t even had sex together and this man made you feel like he had you twisted up like a pretzel last night. You cleared your throat and tried to ignore the tingly feeling that crept up your spine as you stuffed your mouth of the toast and a piece of bacon to avoid saying anything.

He began to make light conversation. Passive thoughts on the holiday market he wants to visit with you and the guys at his gym who he knocked out first round when sparring. “So now he’s probably going to try and get me banned but jokes on him, Shiu has been my guy for decades.”

The trail your eyes let from his pecs back to his face was embarrassing. Another forkful of toast and sip of coffee to hopefully keep him from saying literally anything.

“Glad to see you enjoying my cooking. My pleasure to fuel you for the day ahead.” Toji winked knowing you were practically paralyzed from his teasing. “I’ll take care of dishes pretty. Just go get warm.”

The bastard.

-----—————-

As midday rolled around, Toji opted to nap it out on the couch, which left you attempting to do the same with no success. You’d been lounging around all morning post breakfast with Toji. Cuddling and talking which left him tired but you feeling restless. So you took to old faithful pinterest, set on finding some soup ideas to surprise man the same way he did you this morning.

“Kathiew..” a cambodian beef noodle soup “Hmm.. beef bones, oxtail bones, five spice, doot doot dooooo.’ you quickly browsed over the rest of the list. “I actually have all these things?” you got up and went to your freezer, pulling out the meats then to your fridge to pull out the vegetables not looking at the spices as you knew you had them.

“Well shit. I do have everything.” You wasted no time prepping your ingredients. Cleaning the bones, charring the vegetables and getting everything on a low boil as you added your five spice, rock sugar other flavors to the large pot.

You weren’t use to cooking so much, it was just you and had been you for quite awhile, unless you were cooking for your coworkers. And this recipe was honestly a bit of a larger bite than your usual pinterest picks, but it felt well worth it. You were taking this whole dating thing seriously and he had an appetite.

“Maybe it is the way to the heart.” You teased yourself at the stride of cooking for a man you’d been dating for almost 5 months and the furthest you’d gone was twirling your tongue around each others like two teenagers. But you liked taking it this slow. It’s how you liked your fics and it was proving to be a great for your own love life.

The soup would take almost all day so you decided on an easy baking venture of palmiers and a small banana bread loaf.

Mid cookie forming and the sound of a bears yawn caught your ear. “Babydoll? You get tired of me and drift off into the snow?” his grog laced voice sent a warm trickle down your back as he shuffled into the kitchen. He took you in starting with the sway of your hips then your eyes as you peered over your shoulder to him.

“In here making your little crispy shits.” you picked up another small piece of dough, rolling it into the palm leaf shape and placed it on the cookie sheet.

“Oooo. And you’ve got them a little larger. They look good.”

“Mhm.”

Toji wrapped an arm around your waist and gently pushed into you as he placed a small kiss at the crown of your head. “And whatever you’re cooking smells absolutely delicious. You’ve been busy, girl.”

You shook your head and smiled. “You’ve also been asleep for 5 hours. Needed to occupy my time with something so I tried out a new recipe. A beef noodle soup called Kathiew. Looks very promising.”

The atmosphere should have been perfect, cozy and intimate, but his offhand remark shattered the fragile balance as you went to place the first batch of palmiers in the oven.

“Didn’t realize this snowstorm was an excuse to play house,” he said, his tone teasing but his words sharp enough to sting. “Top contender with doing all this.”

You froze mid-step, turning to look at him. His expression was unreadable, but the comment landed squarely on a nerve you hadn’t realized was exposed. The evening was supposed to be special, a milestone in your relationship. Instead, it felt like he was brushing it off as something trivial.

“If that’s how you see it,” you said, your voice quieter than usual, “then why are you even here?”

Toji’s smirk faltered, replaced by a flicker of confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, straightening up slightly. “You’re the one making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Nothing?” you echoed, incredulous. You placed the sheet you were holding onto the table with more force than necessary, the clatter cutting through the silence. “Do you know how much I thought about you staying over here? How much I wanted this to be a nice next step in whatever this is to you?”

“And it is nice. More than,” he said, his tone edging toward defensiveness. “You’re getting worked up over a joke. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just relax.”

“That’s the problem,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You never mean anything by it. So what am I supposed to think? That you just show up because you’ve got nothing better to do or you didn’t want to be snowed in all alone and pitiful? To play house with a woman.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of your words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding. You could see the gears turning in his head, the way his fingers flexed as though he was trying to figure out what to say. But Toji wasn’t someone who dealt in words; he dealt in actions. And actions, you realized, weren’t enough for you right now.

You looked at him for a moment as you cleaned off your hands. “I need a few minutes to myself.” you mumble before walking past him, leaving him at a loss of what to say and do.

“Shit. Babe wait,” he didn’t reach for you, instead following close behind as you walked hastily to your bedroom. “That isn’t.. just wait.”

“I need time alone. Please.” you quickly closed the bedroom door in his face and tried to make sense of what exactly made you respond this way. Top contender? Was he just playing you? Feeding you all this nonsense on being so into you only to play house?

“Fuck fuck.” Toji stared at the door for a moment, unsure how he was suppose to recover from this. He knew he fucked up big. “Top contender? There isn’t even another one, the fuck was I saying?” He whispered to himself, heavy hands dragging down his face as he took a step back, sliding down the wall until he sat on the floor.

It’s quiet in the apartment, save for the soft hum of the heater and the occasional whistle of the wind outside After what felt like an eternity, Toji let out a slow breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Look,” he started, his voice quieter now, less defensive. “I’m not good at this stuff, alright? But if I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here. You think I’m buying groceries for everybody? Cooking breakfast for just any woman? You are literally the only contender, the one contender I want and need.”

The unexpected vulnerability in his words caught you off guard. For all his bravado and sarcasm, this was Toji’s way of admitting something deeper, even if he couldn’t say it outright.

“You’re serious?” you asked, your voice softening.

He gave you a look, part exasperation, part something else—something gentler, as if you could see him through the door.. “Do I look like the kind of guy who’d stick around in a storm if I wasn’t?”

You let out a small laugh despite yourself, shaking your head. “I just... I don’t want to feel like I’m the only one trying, you know?”

Toji’s expression shifted, his usual cocky smirk replaced by something more genuine. He stood up and moved closer to the door. “You’re not,” he said simply. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

The words weren’t grand or poetic, but coming from him, they meant more than anything else he could have said. You nodded, the knot in your chest loosening as you realized he was trying—in his own way, he was trying. You slowly opened the door and looked up to see the softened gaze in his eyes.

Your lips twitched into a reluctant smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly as you stepped into the hallway and poked his chest. “I really need to know that this isn’t some for fun thing once we have sex or im some temp girlfriend for you.”

Shaking his head, Toji took your hand and led you to the couch, sitting you down before sitting right next to you. “Honesty hour time. Ready?”

“Are you wanting to be that honest?”

The earnest look in his eyes gave you your answer.

With a deep sigh, he sat up and spoke slowly. “You’re my first real thing in a long time. Like long long time.” Toji squeezed your hand as he tried to work his way through his thoughts. “You know how in movies and shit when they say that their person makes them feel comfortable and like home?”

Your lips twitched into a reluctant smile, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. ‘You’re calling me your person.”

“You didn’t know that?” He grabbed your other hand, sitting on the edge of the couch to look directly in your eyes. “I might be shit at this type of thing, But you are mine. You quite literally cussed out that lady who tried scamming me out of 300 bucks.”

“Toji. Thats just a random Tuesday for me.”

He laughed out loud while holding your face with his, that look of adornment filling his green eyes as he saw the warmth and genuine care he had for you flood his mind. “You being you is why I adore you in every way. I apologize for my words. They were fucked up and you didn’t deserve that.”

“We are both learning and figuring it out. You just have to be real and open with me.”

“I’m willing and ready. I promise.” toji leaned in to kiss your forehead and lingers for a moment before pulling back only a few inches.

“You are going to give me a headache. I swear.” You beamed as he helped you stand up and let you lead him to the kitchen.”

“Maybe. But It’ll mean I’m always on your mind.”

“Holy shit, Fushiguro, you’re actually unbearable.”

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

The storm outside has finally started to ease, but the world beyond the windows is still blanketed in thick, untouched snow. The apartment felt warm and lived-in after three days together, an unspoken rhythm forming between the two of you.

You’re in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Toji scrapes batter into a pan to make pancakes. He’s shirtless again because why wouldn’t he be and moving with the casual confidence of someone who’s been here a hundred times before.

“I’ve gotta admit,” you speak up, watching as he expertly flips a pancake. ‘You really are the poster boy for domesticating a man.

He smirks, glancing over his shoulder at you. “Don’t get used to it. This is a special occasion.”

“Oh, being snowed in with me is a special occasion now?”

“Damn right it is,” he says without missing a beat.

You laugh, shaking your head as you grab plates from the cabinet. There’s an ease to the conversation now, a closeness that wasn’t quite there three days ago but formed after last nights conversations. As Toji finishes the pancakes, he nudges you gently out of the way to grab syrup, his hand briefly resting on your hip before he moves past.

“You’re in my kitchen,” you tease, setting the plates down on the small table.

“I’m making the food, aren’t I?” he shoots back, but there’s no real edge to it.

The two of you settle in to eat, the conversation drifting between teasing banter and quiet moments of shared warmth. Toji, as usual, eats like he hasn’t seen food in days, and you can’t help but laugh at the sight.

“You’re really making yourself at home, huh?” you say, resting your chin in your hand as you watch him.

He pauses, his fork halfway to his mouth, and gives you a look. “What, you want me to leave?”

You roll your eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

There’s a beat of silence before he leans back in his chair, his expression shifting slightly. He’s still got that casual confidence, but there’s something softer in the way he looks at you now.

“I was thinking,” he starts, scratching the back of his neck like he’s trying to find the right words.

“Dangerous,” you quip, earning a small smirk from him.

“Funny,” he says dryly before continuing. “I was thinking... this hasn’t been so bad. You know, us being stuck here.”

You raise an eyebrow, playing along. “Oh? High praise coming from you.”

“So,” he said casually, “what are we calling this?”

You paused mid-bite, looking up at him. “Calling what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Us. You’ve got me snowed in, wearing your apron, cooking breakfast… Feels like I should be getting some kind of title out of this.”

You raised an eyebrow, setting your fork down. “Are you asking me to define the relationship, Toji?”

He shrugged, but there was a faint hint of color on his cheeks. “I’m just saying, if I’m sticking around, I might as well make it official. Save myself the headache of wondering if some guy’s gonna swoop in while I’m not looking.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the way he danced around the subject, his usual bravado masking a vulnerability he didn’t quite know how to express. “So you want to be exclusive?” you asked, a small smile tugging at your lips.

He leaned forward then, his green eyes locking onto yours. “What I want is to make sure you know I’m serious about this. About you. So tell me what we are. And I am so locked in with you.”

The sincerity in his voice took you by surprise, and for a moment, you just stared at him, your heart swelling with warmth. Then, unable to resist, you reached across the table and laced your fingers through his.

“Okay,” you said softly. “We’re exclusive.”

A slow grin spread across his face, and he gave your hand a light squeeze. “Good. Now eat your pancakes before they get cold.”

“You can warm them and me up then.”

“You’re impossible,” he mutters, but there’s a warmth to his tone that softens the words.

“And yet, you’re still here,” you tease, your smile softening.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile as you picked up your fork. The two of you ate in comfortable silence, the snowstorm outside nothing more than a memory. And as you sat there, sharing a meal and stealing glances at each other, you realized this—this feeling of warmth and belonging—was exactly what you’d been hoping for all along.

The snowstorm may have brought you together, but this—this closeness, this warmth—is what’s keeping you here.

[lady-lostmind]

A Gift for Steve Harrington

Written for @steddiebingo Twelve Days of Christmas Prompt: Gifts

Rating: T | WC: 830 Thank you @oh-stars for betaing!!

Eddie has never been great at giving gifts. He tries. He wants to give the people he loves good gifts. But he’s not exactly flush, ever, and as creative as he is it’s not really make gifts creative. Hence Wayne’s mug collection, which has turned into an inside joke more than anything. Wayne doesn’t even use mugs that often. Always carries his work thermos around. But Eddie still buys every ridiculous mug he finds at the thrift store and stashes them away for Christmas and birthday gifts. 

The point is, Eddie is at a loss. He’s the luckiest son of a bitch to have ever lived because he landed fucking Steve Harrington of all people and it’s their first Christmas like together, together and he has no clue what to get him. 

He knows things that Steve likes. Obviously. He’s obsessed with the guy. Hangs on every word that comes out of his mouth. But Steve likes…fancy shit. Like shit Eddie wouldn’t even know where to attempt to find. His shampoo isn’t in the hair aisle at the grocery store. He has no idea where he shops for clothes since Eddie gets all of his clothes at the thrift store. The mall is probably a good guess but he hates going to the mall, and he wouldn’t even know where to start if he did. He could try to buy sports stuff but he’s not confident in his ability to keep the teams straight and he’s pretty sure buying the wrong team is a big no-no. So, he’s stuck, and desperate. Because fuck all if he’s going to lose Steve Harrington because he can’t buy a fucking Christmas present. He has to find something good. Something thoughtful. Something that shows he can be a good boyfriend. Something that says thank you for letting me see you naked. Because he honestly doesn’t know how this is even his life and he has to hold onto this perfect specimen of a man. 

Eddie groans, shoving a sports shirt back on the rack and stomping his way toward the exit. He’s running out of time but nothing seems right. Nothing is good enough. Nothing is– Eddie freezes as he walks past an aisle of picture frames. He hesitates, feeling like this is too easy. But he knows Steve would love it. He loves anything that has a little thought behind it. Eddie backs up and goes down the aisle, feeling ridiculous for not thinking of this sooner. He chooses carefully, taking his time picking the perfect frame and when he gets home he digs through his little box of mementos looking for–

“Aha!” Eddie snags the ticket stubs from the bottom of the box and stares at them fondly before positioning them on the corner of his favorite picture of him and Steve and then sealing it all behind the glass in the frame. 

–

Eddie is nervous. He tugs on his rings and his leg bounces uncontrollably as he watches Robin hand gifts out to everyone from under the tree. What if he’s wrong? What if Steve wants a nice gift? What if he thinks it’s weird Eddie kept the tickets? What if he thinks it’s lame to give him such a cheesy couple gift? What if it’s way too early in their relationship to give him something so sappy? What if– 

Eddie holds his breath as Robin grabs Steve’s gift and scoffs at the wrapping, rolling her eyes at Eddie. “Newspaper, Eddie? Really?”

Eddie shrugs and catches Steve's little smirk as Robin hands the gift to him. Steve looks over at Eddie and smiles before starting to rip the paper off. Eddie chews on the side of his thumb, waiting for Steve’s reaction. He turns the frame over so he can see it and gasps.

“Eds is this–” He looks up and locks eyes with Eddie. “Are these from our first date?” 

Eddie can feel his face flush bright red. He tugs a piece of hair in front of his face and nods, unable to answer with his stomach so tied up in knots. 

Steve looks back down at the frame, rubbing his thumb over the tickets. But he doesn’t say anything else. Just stares. Eddie spirals thinking he absolutely fucked up. Steve hates it. He hates the gift and now everything is going to be ruined and–

Steve finally looks up and there are tears streaming down his face and– great. His gift was so terrible and off the mark he made his boyfriend cry. Good job, Eddie. Really great–

Steve launches himself into Eddie’s lap and plasters their mouths together, holding onto him tight. Eddie can taste the saltiness of his tears on his lips and is very– confused. He pulls back, looking at Steve with wide eyes. “So, you…like it?”

Steve huffs out a wet laugh, his eyes crinkling in that way Eddie loves when he really smiles. “I love it, Eds. It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” 

[starkitxxz]

Crave you like a drug🎄💊

Sol x gn!reader

HAPPY HOLIDAYS FELLOW READERS AND TO EVERYONE CELEBRATING THIS DAY! I might be a little late but oh well... *proceeds to drop the trigger warnings

TW: DRUGGING, vague mentions of stalking and somnophilia, mentions of private parts, sexual themes, implied NONCON S3X, [Reader] is a virgin

Not suitable for minors, proceed with caution.

Wc: 3.2k

“Keep it hidden, and do whatever you want. Just be careful.” He said as he handed out what his friend needed.

“But I’ve been craving them so badly-”

“Do you want to make it riskier for you?”

“I- Fine. I’ll be careful.”

“Good.” 

♡♡♡

You flick the switch of the heater, warm light beginning to radiate heat from its vents. 

The once cold, lifeless room was filled with holiday decorations. Wreaths and colorful lights brought the place to life. A medium-sized Christmas tree was placed on the corner of the room, cute little ornaments stacked on its artificial leaves. Even though it wasn’t as big as those you see online, it was enough to make you feel the holiday spirit.

You flopped down on the couch and switched the TV on with the remote, wearing Sol’s soft jacket that you kept since he gave it to you a few days ago. You treasured it like it’s something special to you, something that can shield you from an icy blizzard. 

The reporter on the screen held her microphone in the middle of the sidewalk. Snowflakes continued falling as it clumped up into a small pile of snow, as if a pile of autumn leaves were replaced by frozen stardust. The reporter adjusted her fluffy hat, bringing the microphone close to her face.

“As of tonight, the temperature of this month’s winter season will change from 8 degrees celsius to 6 degrees celsius–Along with a mild snowstorm in- [static]”

The channel switched the moment it lost signal, you hoped the snowstorm she was talking about won’t affect this town. Lowering the TV volume, you wondered what would happen to you if you denied Mr. Z’s offer. You’d die of hypothermia by now. You can’t afford to struggle in this piercing cold weather alone, you’re doing this for the sake of your family and your home.

A breeze of cool air brushed against the side of your face, and you shivered at the sensation. Looking to your right, you see your window slightly open. It welcomed the chilling breeze inside your comfy abode.

You might need to buy another lock again.

You stood up from the soft cushion and closed the window shut, keeping the cold wind away from your room.

You caught a glance of your snowy surroundings. Trees were drained of its leaves from the freezing temperature, leaving it in a lifeless, chilly state. Street lamps and stores gleamed with glowing LED lights, flickering with different vibrant colors, with holiday decors plastered on glass panels and brick walls.

There were families reunited and bonding together in joy, couples clinging to each other like a matching puzzle set—afraid of losing each other amidst the snow filled town.

You wonder what your friends are doing, especially this Christmas Eve. They must be hanging out with their families right now. Semester break will only last for a few days, so it's worth every minute of family time.

You wished you could visit them this year. At least before a load of schoolwork.

You looked at your Christmas tree, noticing a present beside it, wrapped in shiny blue paper with a little snowflake on it.

Crowe’s present.

He gave it to you the day before, knowing he can’t drop by and visit your apartment. It’s a shame he couldn’t be here.

Or atleast, the friend group, except Deryl–He knocked on your door and placed a small yellow box on the ground. He didn’t hesitate to snatch some snacks as well. You didn’t mind though, he seemed like he was in a hurry.

When will someone stay the night here and celebrate the holiday with you-

Buzz. Your phone vibrated and the screen lit up, getting your attention.

You walked to the sofa and picked your phone up, a notification displaying on your homescreen.

Sol: Yo, are you free right now?

You type in your phone’s password and reply to his message.

You: Yeah, why?

Not a minute has passed til he replied back.

Sol: I was thinking of offering holiday treats to you, as a Christmas gift. Do you want some?

You: Sure, I could really use a midnight snack later

Sol: Okay, See you at 11?

You: Yup, I’ll wait

You check the time on your phone, 10:21PM displayed on the top left of your screen.

Sitting back down on the sofa, you lean back and stare at the ceiling.

♡♡♡

“I bought the cookies you asked for-”

Sol almost flinched from his spot, placing a hand on his chest from the sudden intrusion. 

“What the hell-”

“Relax, it’s still warm.”

Hyugo carefully placed the winter themed box of cookies on the pack of snow, as Sol continued to spy on you behind the snowy bushes. 

Hyugo knew Sol had done this every night, just to ‘look after’ his so-called soulmate. Hiding in the bushes or behind trees, holding a pair of binoculars as you minded your own business inside your apartment,oblivious to the fact your stalker is watching your every move.

Heck, maybe even when you’re changing clothes. His perverted, obsessed self would LOVE to see that

But of course, he won’t admit that. 

Hyugo cleared his throat, earning Sol’s attention once more–as snowflakes drifted slowly, covering the bare trees with cold flurry.

“Are you going to sit there and wait for them to fall asleep?”

“Maybe” Sol’s lips curved into a lovestruck smile, his thoughts wandering to the times where you slept so peacefully. The times where you were unaware of your surroundings, free from the chaos of reality, though your unconscious state was only temporary. 

It was only a matter of time before you woke up, yet, Sol managed to visit you late at night. Knowing you were in a vulnerable state, he took it as a chance to make every minute intimate and memorable to him. Every lingering kiss, every brush of his fingers, tracing your warm skin, remained as a reminder of his devotion to you.

To him, you’re a deity

And he will worship you like a devoted follower, a hopeless servant willing to offer everything for even an ounce of your love.

Like a prayer answered from the heavens above.

Hyugo sighed as he grabbed the cookie box. Sol raised an eyebrow at this but shook his thoughts away.

“Should I give the cookies to them or-”

“No, I’ll do it.” Sol got onto his feet, determined to meet you this time around. He hoped to see the face he admired the most.

Even after seeing you plenty of times every night.

“Alright, I’ll head home. Take care.” Hyugo handed the box to Sol, snow crunching beneath him as he walked away.

“Wait, did you add the-” 

“Yes. I did.” Hyugo responded and he glared at Sol, warning him of what he might do–though he can’t help but support Sol with his obsession over you only because of the deal they made.

Sol nodded, watching his friend disappear from his view, while he held the box of lukewarm cookies.

Sol cursed under his breath, he didn’t want you to receive cold cookies by the time he arrived–but then again, you could always heat it up.

Sol walked up the stairs to your apartment, the steps creaking underneath him. His mind was clouded with imaginable scenarios of what could happen with you and him alone. You and him, alone, in your apartment.

Hah, you have no idea…

Standing in front of your door, he knocked on the hard wooden material. He heard the sound of your footsteps approaching as he stood there, waiting.

You twist the doorknob and open the door, greeted by the tall figure before you. 

He wore a black hoodie, soft and comfortable enough to keep him warm in this harsh, frigid weather. He held a box of cookies, noticing the holiday themed designs when you took a peek–as well as the brand logo plastered on the plastic front cover of the container. All too familiar with the brand, you realize it’s from one of the delicious bakeries you went to!

The nostalgic scent of vanilla and cinnamon, friendly workers and their signature cinnamon buns, served with a cup of hot coffee–it made you wonder, does Sol buy pastries there? Or did he guess it’s your favorite bakery?

Whatever the answer is, you’re glad he bought you cookies from the bakery you love.

“Are these… from the Downtown Cinnamon cafe?” You asked, confirming your suspicion.

“Yes, I thought you would like it,” he replied with a soft smile, a faint blush forming on his cheeks.

“Like it? I love it! Thank you Sol” You smiled as you accepted the offer. “Please, come in”

Sol stepped into your house and closed the door behind him, examining the place. Wreaths, vibrant lights, cute reindeer stockings, all displayed on the walls. The faint smell of cozy vanilla and inaudible noises from the TV filled the room.

“Wow, you really put in the effort,” he commented, acting surprised at your winter themed decorations.

As if he hasn’t been spying on you for a while.

He’s seen you hang those bright string lights on your Christmas tree the day before Christmas eve, and when you bought the stockings from a nearby shop that costs less than $5.

“Do you want some hot chocolate? You must be shivering right now.”

“I’d love that,” Sol replied, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. 

As delusional it may sound, he will definitely appreciate a cup of hot chocolate, mainly because you made it yourself.

If it reminds him of you, he’ll happily take it.

If only something eventually reminded you of him too… 

You nodded and headed to the kitchen while Sol sat down on the sofa, the box of cookies set on the coffee table.

You place a kettle, half filled with water, on the lit stove, waiting for it to boil.

As soon as it whistles, you twist the knob off. 

You placed a black mug on the counter, grabbing a packet of hot chocolate powder and a pair of scissors, cutting a straight line across the plastic cover of the packet. You pour all of the packet’s powdery content into the empty mug, discarding the plastic after.

You fill the mug with hot water, combining the chocolate powder with it as it steams. 

You return to the living room, holding a small tray with a mug of hot chocolate with a spoon and a jar of soft marshmallows. 

“You can add marshmallows if you want,” You smiled as you placed the tray on the coffee table. Sol nodded at the suggestion, opening the jar of marshmallows and putting 2 of them in the drink, making a plop.

As you were about to sit beside him, you noticed something missing under the Christmas tree… wait, there’s one gift missing…

Rising up from your seat, you approach your Christmas tree and inspect it, and to your surprise, Crowe’s gift is missing.

“Uh… Sol, have you seen a square shaped present wrapped in a blue wrapper?” You asked as you began to search for it, failing to catch sight of the scowl on his face.

“No, I haven’t,” Sol replied, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. 

You cursed under your breath. You knew it was just under the tree, you didn’t move it somewhere else. 

Maybe you actually placed it somewhere else, it’s getting late already, but….

How will Crowe react when you tell him you lost his gift?

Letting out a sigh, you sat down beside him once more and glanced at the clock. It displayed 11:47PM, and you realize there’s still 13 minutes before Christmas. 

And you get to celebrate it with Sol.

“It’s almost time,” You uttered, gaining Sol’s attention as the scowl on his face disappeared, now displaying his calm facade. 

He looked at the clock, 11:49PM shown on the clock. He smiled, at the thought of celebrating the holidays with you. Looking back at his hot chocolate, he took another sip.

Suddenly, your stomach growled, only then you realized you didn’t eat properly for dinner. You were too busy with the decorations and sleeping the whole day, you didn’t have time to eat that much. Or maybe you just don’t feel like eating.

Whether you slept or slacked off whatsoever, you have to eat now. 

Good thing Sol brought those cookies.

You lean forward and open the lid of the box, the tasty smell of cinnamon from snickerdoodle cookies makes you want to eat it all. 

“It smells so delicious!” You exclaimed in delight as you grabbed a portion, taking a small bite. And you swore it’s one of the greatest cookies you’ve ever tasted.

You never knew they made the cookies this good, especially as a holiday treat. It melted in your mouth smoothly, tasting the vanilla and cinnamon as you chewed it into bits. It filled your tastebuds with delight.

Sadly it will disappear once Christmas is over.

Sol looked at you in a way he was surprised at your reaction, enjoying the taste of the cookies he bought for you. 

Thank goodness you like it…

Bet you’ll love what’s next…

“Is it good?” He asked and drank his hot chocolate halfway. He looked at you expectantly, as if he was waiting for either your response or for you to eat more of those cookies. 

You nodded, swallowing the melted cookie. A friendly smile was plastered on his lips, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” 

The clock ticked till 11:54PM, a few more minutes until Christmas.

You grab another portion, and another one, enjoying the delicacy a bit too much. It just tasted so so good, and you weren't skilled enough to bake something like this. Something so sweet and tasty.

“Hey, save some for me,” Sol chuckled as he grabbed one for himself, taking a bite and letting out a satisfied hum.

By 11:58PM, the box was left empty as well as the mug of his hot chocolate. You licked your lips to gather any leftover crumbs around your mouth. Looking at the box, you can’t believe you actually ate it all.

“Damn, I’m so full,” You commented, overwhelmed by how appetizing the cookies are.

“Yeah, same,” Sol replied, often glancing at the clock every few seconds. 11:59PM.

“Are you sure you won’t go home yet? You keep looking at the time-”

“Yeah, I’m sure, I just need to… do something…” 

“Do what?” You looked at him confused, until a sudden gush of warmth fueled your body, putting you in a relaxed state as your muscles loosened.

Strange, it’s so hot here…

“Mmh… I feel a bit weird right now…” you said as you leaned back on the couch, letting the soft cushion absorb you. 

You can’t help but feel… excitement.

Heat coursed through your core, burning with lust. A strong sense of wanting to be satisfied, thirsty for intimacy. Your heart rate rapidly increased every second.

49…

“Are you okay? You look like you're in a haze there…” Sol asked as he scooted closer, reaching a hand out to check if you’re on the right mind. 

It must be something I drank- no, maybe it was the cookies… You thought, as you began to crave fulfilling your desires. But not in front of Sol, at least not now.

43…

“Y-Yeah, I-Im fine…” You managed to stutter, grasping the soft material of the sofa cushion with your hands.

“Are you sure-”

40…

“I-I feel… so… fuck…” You tighten your fists on the cushion. Wild, inappropriate thoughts ran around your disoriented mind.

Sol looked at you with a sly smile, “what do you feel, pumpkin?”

36…

“I-I don’t know,” you replied as you felt your arousal growing. A feeling of your crotch yearning to be touched. A feeling resulting in risking your own purity. 

You look at Sol, his red-orange irises locking onto yours. 

When did he look so fucking… attractive…?

31…

“You seem a little dizzy there,” He said as his warm breath hit your ear, his face ever so slightly close to you.

29…

“Do you need help letting it all out, darling?”

27…

You shook your head, “N-No, I-” 

He cuts you off, “You’re unusually hot.”

He brushes the back of his hand on your cheek lightly, warmth coming into contact with his hand.

The effect is working.

Seems like he doesn’t need to add any more substances.

23…

You gulped and gazed at his lips, fuck, why does it look tempting?

Whatever it is, it feels so thrilling.

It makes you feel so alive, so eager, so inclined to just kiss him right here right now.

But it feels so wrong…

Sol noticed your focus on his lips, a chuckle escaped his mouth. He loved the way you were reacting right now, like he planned it all out. He planned all of this just to give you more of his undivided love.

And why care if the neighbors heard you and him?

“What are you looking at, pumpkin-”

Suddenly, you clutched both of his wrists and pinned him down above the sofa, as it let out a squeak.

Sol’s eyes widened at the sudden move, but his reaction quickly turned into lust. He was longing for this just as you are.

He has been waiting for this reaction from you. 

It’s almost unbelievable how a fine amount of aphrodisiac can affect you, and most especially, your own body.

14…

“Oh darling, you have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting this,” Sol confessed with lovestruck and lustful admiration. The tent in his pants was almost evident as he locked eye contact with you.

“You’re practically aching for me aren’t you?” He whispered in your ear seductively.

10…

“Maybe…” You replied back and leaned closer, your body roughly touching against his–yet, you desire to feel all of him.

8…

“Maybe?” He raised a brow, smirking at your response. He has full control on you, despite your conscious yet hazy state, the effects will last for a while. After all, he wanted to make this as special as possible.

A blush crept up to your face, lost in the thought of his lips meeting yours. The very thought of it made you turned on-

4…

You held both sides of his face, letting his bound wrists free as you pressed your lips against his. He feels how desperate you are for this, how you’ve been craving him ever since the drug affected you. He wanted this too. 

3…

He yearned for this, he yearned to claim his soulmate’s lips as his–but when will you realize? When will you finally realize you’re bound to him by soul…?

For now, he will take advantage of your vulnerable, needy state.

2…

His hand ran through your locks and pulled your head closer, deepening the kiss. His heart pounded against his ribs, feeling your rapid heartbeat as well. Overjoyed by the sensation of your lips, he slid his free hand underneath your shirt.

1…

Breaking the kiss, he whispered, “Happy holidays, pumpkin.”

0…

Before you could react, your shirt is lifted over your torso.

♡♡♡

Imagine what happens next lmao

[narcjsistx]

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 | OS

kaiser micheal x fem reader ; words: 1.6k (1679)

coming from this event, eighth day, 25/12

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: why kaiser was at your door the night between christmas eve and christmas day? why did he have a red package, even though you had broken up last month?

It was cold, very cold. Berlin had been covered in snow since the beginning of November, and things had gotten worse during the Christmas week, when the snow had also caused some damage due to the excessive amount. You loved the snow, so going to work with the white weather around you wasn't a sin, and above all it didn't bother you because you always covered yourself well with a heavy coat and an excessive amount of scarves; but now, with only your pajamas on, you were cold. You didn't know if you were colder because of the temperature or because of seeing Kaiser after a whole month, maybe the second one, but who knows

It was a while past midnight, at least half an hour; your friends had just left your house, after you had celebrated Christmas Eve all together, opened the presents and toasted. You were cleaning the living room when you heard the doorbell, and thinking you would find some of your friends who had forgotten something you went to the door calmly, completely confused instead of finding your ex, Kaiser Micheal

"...What the fuck are you doing here?"

Last month you broke up after a relationship that lasted three years, three years so intense that you couldn't even describe them if you had to: you met thanks to one of his teammates, one night in a bar after the team's victory, and two weeks later you were together as an actual couple. Maybe you had run, maybe not, but at the time it didn't take long for you to understand that you could work together, and so you decided to give yourself a chance. Less than six months later you were living in his house, keeping him company and most of all loving him. With Michael it had never been all roses and flowers, you argued like normal couples, but somehow you always came back to look for the other, like a magne. You went to his games, you cheered for him, and he cheered for you for your goals. You balanced each other out, and many of your friends joked that you were going to get married soon because only one could stand the other with a wedding in between

You actually thought so too, and probably he did too. But last month you had broken up, and even now you couldn't understand how he had the courage to tell you that he didn't love you anymore, if until a few hours before he was resting in your arms. And so, from that day on, you didn't want to know anything about him anymore, going back to live in your old apartment

But what the fuck was he doing here now? And why did he have a little box in his hand?. Thinking about this, you realized that it was his birthday, since it had already struck midnight; but wishing him a happy birthday? No, absolutely not, partly out of resentment and partly because you knew he didn't like celebrating his birthday

"I had to talk to you, or rather give you something. I saw your friends' cars and knocking suddenly while you were busy seemed a bit of a jerk... I waited out here for a few hours. And above all, I didn't feel like talking to you with them in front"

It was cold, damn cold, and you knew he didn't like the cold because of his past, where he had often been forced to sleep freezing as a child. But for you, had he waited? With this cold?

"Talk? Wasn't that enough the last time we talked?"

More than talking, the last time you did nothing but yell at each other. He said so many bad things to you, and you didn't even hold back

"No, it's not enough for me. I have to talk to you and give you something"

"I don't want anything from you, and you also said the last time that you wouldn't give me anything anymore because I don't deserve it, right?"

"Don't bring that moment back now"

"And why shouldn't I?"

The wound was still open, and you knew it would be for a long time. You couldn't lie and say you didn't love him anymore, damn it, it was the opposite; you certainly don't stop loving someone from one day to the next after three years of being together. You also knew that, somewhere in his heart, Michael probably felt the same, but that didn't justify him leaving you. You were angry, disappointed above all and sad

"Y/n, please, let me talk. You know I never talk in vain in serious moments"

He had never done it in three years with you, his charisma stopped when it came to talking about serious situations, knowing that he couldn't always throw everything into irony. You wanted to hear him talk, to understand what the fuck he wanted at such a time and especially with such a situation in between, but would that have been beneficial for you? Could you have let him talk?

"Hurry up. I'm cold"

"I try to be as fast as possible, I swear. I don't think I can explain to you how much I hate me for what I did to you, leaving you wasn't on the list of things to do with you, in fact, I don't even know how I could have done such a stupid thing. I'm an idiot, I really am, I'm like my father who as soon as he had all the happiness in his hands he let it slip away... and you know, maybe you're the only one who really knows, how much I don't want to be like that pig. I made a mess because I'm not used to having someone who really loves me, and when I do stupid things that push this person away from me, because I don't think I deserve it. I know perfectly well that you're the only one who cares a little about me, and I also know perfectly well that you're the only one I really care about, that I love in a way that's maybe even a little obsessive. I would like to give you something that I was planning to give you for Christmas if we had stayed together, but something went wrong... but I want to give it to you anyway, and ask you to think of us, because now I have no more doubts, I haven't had them for 3 years now and above all I didn't have them when I bought this"

Maybe you needed these words from him, even if you hated to admit that he already had you tied to his finger. From the day of the breakup until now you had always wanted to see him apologize, and now that you had him in front of you it didn't seem true: Michael wasn't someone who admitted his mistakes, he preferred to miss a goal rather than do this, he also hated showing himself weak in front of the people he cared about. And now he was doing it, both of them, in front of you, just to explain the situation to you

But what did he actually want to give you?

"Micheal... god, this is unexpected. I thought I was going to have to move on"

"Don't start, or at least decide whether to do so after I've shown you what I have in my hand. Think about it, because I have no more doubts"

You look down, Michael clears his throat before getting down on one knee, he who always told others to get down on their knees for him. You hear a small sigh, before the little box opens to reveal a ring, glittering and gold

"Y/n, Schatz, I had no doubts about asking you something so important, because I've met people, but there's only one who understands me, and that's you. I have a shitty personality and yet it doesn't seem to push you away from me, and for that I should thank you every day. You know perfectly well how much I don't like my birthday, yet somehow since we've been together you've made me learn to appreciate it at least a little, and now I would like to appreciate it more if you accept, because it's a gift that only you can give me. I wanted to ask you this to take our relationship to the next level, but the way things went I find myself forced to ask you to give me another chance, this time for life. Y/n, will you marry me?"

You tremble, because you don't know what else to do after a proposal like that. You look at him, and in his gaze you read a sincerity that you have never seen before, which shows how serious he is. You remain like that for whole seconds, unable to tell him what, you know, he wants to hear

"Micheal, my god... yes, yes I do, yes!"

Before he can get up and hug you, you throw yourself onto the cold floor with him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you feel his arms wrap tightly around your back, pulling you closer to him. Small tears begin to form at the edge of your eyes as you hold him perhaps a little too tightly because of the emotion. You hear him chuckle, as he runs his hand up and down your back, not giving you the chance to pull away

"You're an idiot, you really are"

"I know, but now you will be able to tell me until our last days, Schatz"

TAG: @natmagaesp ; @kittenish0 ; @x3nafix

[gothsoyl]

┊┊┊⁺ ⁺ DECEMBER CHALLENGE

"Tired"

caitlyn kiramman x puppy!reader word count: 900 summary: your owner comes home tired note: what if i write nsfw version later...

you're lying on the couch, staring at the door across from you, waiting for caitlyn. she came in at about the same time every day, so you were always waiting for her at the door, wagging your tail. but something didn't go according to plan today - she's been gone for too long and you've already started to worry.

at first, as usual, you were sitting by the door, listening attentively to the noise outside, but you still couldn't hear her footsteps. it alerted you, but you tried not to panic ahead of time – she works so it was okay if she was a few minutes late, right?

but an hour passed, and then two.

you've already been walking around the door in circles, not finding a place for yourself to calm down. the whining turned into howls, and you could feel your whole body starting to ache with longing for caitlyn, your mistress and your owner. It was unbearable. It seemed like a lot more time had passed than it actually was, but you couldn't help yourself.

you needed caitlyn like air, if not more.

you tried to distract yourself by walking around the apartment, chewing on your favorite toys that caitlyn bought you to calm down, but nothing helped. your thoughts kept returning to her and to the anxiety that grew with every moment that you spent alone.

and finally you heard the familiar footsteps. you immediately raise your head and look at the door, your ears raised in anticipation, and your tail starts banging furiously on the couch by itself. your heart freezes with excitement, as if it was for the first time, and you run to the door, scratching the floor with your claws.

the door opens and you don't even wait for caitlyn to enter the apartment completely – you run towards her, putting your paws on her stomach, tail swaying from side to side.

“caitlyn! cate! I missed you!” you immediately start whining, looking at her with eyes full of longing and love, but in response she only rudely pushes you away. she doesn't hug you or pat you by the ear, as she usually does, which immediately makes your heart sink.

“let me go inside! gosh!” caitlyn hisses in response, making you take a step back in disbelief and pressing your ears to the back of your head. you don't understand what's going on and it scares you.

you want to ask more questions, you want to know what happened, but you don't know if caitlyn will answer you. you don't want to make her angry. you want her to be proud of you, to love you, so you just nod shortly, trying not to make a sound. 

caitlyn exhales loudly and slams the door, and you flinch at the tension in the air. 

you try not to look at her directly, as you usually do, but you can't bring yourself to turn away from her either – you watch as she throws the raincoat from her shoulders down and goes into the living room, slightly shuffling her feet on the floor from exhaustion. you feel sorry for her. you want to do something, but you feel completely powerless.

you follow her quietly, trying not to get too close and keep at least some distance. you watch caitlyn flop down on the couch and tilt her head back, staring at the ceiling before closing her eyes. you hesitate, but still carefully sit down a couple of meters away from her, impatiently stamping your paws on the floor. 

something needs to be done... but how can you do it so that caitlyn doesn't get mad?

“come here,” you blink a couple of times, lifting your head to her. she doesn't even look at you, but her voice sounds much softer than when she first came home.

you swallow hard and carefully approach her, hopping onto the couch. you want to snuggle up to her with your cold nose, but you try not to make any sudden movements.

caitlyn's head slowly turns in your direction and you notice the bags under her eyes and how pale she looks. she reaches out to you and gently puts her hand on your head, ruffling your hair and scratching behind your ear, the way you like it.

“I'm sorry for yelling,” her voice is quiet and tired, and you don't even notice how your tail starts wagging at her touch.

“I was worried about you,” you admit anyway and crouch even closer, gently placing your paw on her thigh, as if somehow trying to calm her down. 

caitlyn smiles sadly and nods, her lips barely moving as she whispers, “just tired.”

you frown a little and lean closer to her, your rough tongue touching her neck in slow movements, leaving a wet trail. you can hear her soft sigh, her hand is still stroking your hair. 

“do you want me to...”

“no,” she abruptly interrupts you and pulls away, wiping your saliva from her skin. you immediately feel like you've said too much, that you’ve done too much and just pushed caitlyn away, but she pats her lap and shakes her head, “let's just sit here.”

you nod immediately and lie down on the couch, resting your head on her lap. her fingers tangle in your hair, but you don't pay attention. your tail slowly hits the couch for pleasure and you stretch, relaxing your body and getting comfortable.

“good girl...”

[tomtenadia]

Of Ice, sneezes and libraries....

Happy Yulemas @goddess-aelin. It took me a while to find an idea for your present and then yesterday it it. I hope it's any good. I just wanted to write a bucket load of fluff and put some babies in it because I love Rowaelin as parents. At the end I play with the carranam blond because I love the idea but in the books is not as used so it appears to create some more magic.

Wishing you happy holidays and I really hope you will love this ❤️

King consort Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius, an immortal warrior who had faced armies, battled countless foes, conquered lands, deposed despots, was exhausted. 

With a deep sigh he let his heavy body collapse on the comfy chair in the library he had built for his wife, in the castle.

His wife, Aelin Whitethorn Galathynius, Heir of fire and a long string of other titles he would playfully call her during adult times. Aelin the love of his life. The woman with whom he had walked out of the abysm he had created for himself.

Lazily his head moved, taking in the vast quantity of books she had collected in the ten years they had been mated. Ten years in which both had worked hard at rebuilding Terrasen after the war. Aelin, while building alliances with foreign lands and him out, on the ground helping their citizens rebuilding what had been destroyed. He was not a man for political intrigue and courtly nonsense. He needed to use his hands. Be active, do something that involved physical labour.

On that day he had finished training some of the new recruits and now he just needed a bit of peace until his wife was free again from the meeting with an ambassador for a faraway land. He was impressed by how she had stepped up to the task of being Queen. With time the council had fully accepted her and slowly, Terrasen had started healing.

He was about to doze off when his keen fae ears picked up a noise a few doors down and with the speed of an immortal he rushed to the room.

Once inside, he started breathing again when he noticed that everything was okay, then his gaze shifted to a specific point where the crib was. There he found a set of eyes as green as his staring back at him.

His smile widened at the sight. Their daughter Aisling was standing up and calling him.

Aisling was born a year before and was his carbon copy, something that Aelin loved to complain about. “You carry them for nine months and they they look like the father.”

It had taken Aelin a while to get pregnant but the moment he felt the spark of life in his wife, he had fallen to his knees and cried while holding her. He was going to be a father. 

“What is it my love?” With long strides he covered the distance quickly and a moment later his daughter was in his arms with her head tucked in his neck. “Did you had a bad dream?”

She sniffled louder and he realised that there was something wrong with her “Are you sick?”

Not a second later a sneeze left her and the room around them plunged into winter.

He looked around with interest “Do you have ice magic like your dad?” A deep grin broke on his face “oh you and I are going to have so much fun with mum.”

Aisling moaned and he woke from his revelry. When she sneezed a couple of more times and the room turned in an icy box he realised something was wrong. He grabbed a warmer cloak and wrapped his daughter in it “let’s go and see the healer before you freeze the entire castle.”

With Aisling tightly in his arms he rushed out of the room and sped up to the wing where the healer resided. Along the way Aisling sneezed a few more times causing patches of ice to decorate the walls. He made a mental note to go back and fix it, but first he needed to look after his daughter.

With his huge form he stormed in the infirmary and demanded to see the healer.

“Your majesty, is everything all right?”

“Aisling is sick she is sneezing and creating ice and she is warm at the same time.”

The healer motioned for Rowan to place his daughter on the bed and Rowan obeyed but hovered close by like the protective buzzard his wife liked to call him.

The healer made his daughter laugh and a few icicles sprouted from the ceiling.

“Curious,” added the man “usually fae kids start to show sign of magic around five but I am not surprised that the daughter of two powerful fae is showing signs this early.”

“Will she have ice magic?”

“It will not settle for a while longer but it looks like for now that’s where she is going. Your majesties will have to start magic training for the princess quite soon.”

Rowan nodded in silence “is she okay?”

“Yes, it’s just common flu.” The man gave the king a bottle with a blue liquid “this should help her. She needs rest, perhaps some milk with honey at night before bed and she will be fine in no time.”

Aisling kept giggling and Rowan picked her up “let’s go back to your room and see if the magic ice is gone.”

While they walked Aisling kept babbling and he loved the sound. Sometimes she used real words that she was picking up from them but others it was total gibberish and he was there for it. He loved to imagine that she was telling him stories of crazy adventures in faraway lands.

After Aelin, Aisling was the second love of his life. Nothing matter when it came to her. Not even the long sleepless nights when he looked after her to allow Aelin some rest. Aisling had been the most perfect of gifts.

“Dada!” Another sneeze and another patch of ice appeared on the tapestry.” Rowan laughed “let’s go and get you your medicine”

“Ice!” She pointed out with het chubby finger

“Yes my love, you have ice magic like dada and I am so proud.” he slapped a loud kiss on her cheek and the girl snuggled close to him.

Ten minutes later they were back in the room, Aisling in bed with no intention of sleeping. A bad bout of sneezing had plunged the room into the ice age. Aisling was now crying and fussing and Rowan had ran out of ideas until he decided to use his favourite trick. In a pop of light he transformed in his hawk form and flew inside the crib and Aisling stopped crying. She studied his form and then patted him babbling happily “biddie!”

He was enjoying his daughter patting his wings that he did not notice his wife stepping into the room.

“Now buzzard, do you miss me so much that you have to turn into a bird to have your daughter cuddle you and stroke your ego?”

Bird Rowan let out a shriek and with his head he nuzzled his daughter’s hand and Aisling hugged him tight “Dada biddie!”

“Come on old man,” Aelin extended her arm and Rowan flew on it. He stared at her with his head slightly tilted in a silent conversation between the two.

Then a pop of light and he was back in fae form at her side.

“Hi wife,” he kissed her, while pulling her to him with a hand landing on her still flat belly “How are you both?”

“Fine, but why is the nursery covered in ice?”

Rowan turned and his head tilted to point at their daughter. 

“Was it her?”

“She has a cold and when she sneezes well…” his arms pointed out at the result.

Aelin squealed and grabbed Aisling in her arms “of course, not only you look like your dad, now you have his magic too? You ungrateful little thing.” A loud kiss on the girl’s cheek “This one better be like me and have fire,” she joked while caressing her belly.

“Mama ‘ove you.” Aisling wrapped her tiny arms around Aelin’s neck.

“I love you too, my baby.”

Once their daughter was in bed, Rowan accompanied his wife in the library. He let her take the big comfy chair while he sat at her feet with his head leaning against her belly, while Aelin scratched his silver hair “what’s wrong with Aisling?”

“The healer says it’s just a cold. He gave her a tonic that will make her feel better, but for a few days we might want to make sure the castle is extra warm,” he looked up “good thing we have a fire fae…”

Aelin smirked “try not to get too close to my flames if you don’t want to sizzle those pretty feather of yours, buzzard.”

Rowan in response kissed her belly “I love your fire, you know that.”

Aelin leaned forward and kissed his head “you were never afraid.”

His piercing gaze met hers “how can I, Fireheart?” A kiss on her hand “you are my equal, my heart, my everything, your fire completes me. My carranam.”

Aelin smiled and slid down, sitting near her husband “what else, my king?” Her tone suddenly changing. Rowan pulled his wife to him and kissed her deeply “maybe we should tell your citizens how naughty you like to be, my Queen.”

Aelin pushed her husband flat on the carpet and straddled him “oh old man, I’ll show you naughty.” Their hands joined together and sparks flew and magic engulfed them. The power of the carranam bond coming alive around them.

“I am yours.” An ancient promise whispered against her lips.

Later that evening they went back to check on their daughter and found the nursery completely covered in ice. In panic, they both ran to the crib and found Aisling deeply asleep under the thick blanket with her arms around the soft toy uncle Aedion had gifted her.

“She is fine.”

Rowan kissed his wife’s head with tenderness while Aelin with her magic dispelled the ice.

“Come on Fireheart, it’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

Aelin threw him a wanton gaze and Rowan lifted her in his arms and carried her to their room  “I’ll show you who is the old man.”

And as they joined in the flesh and soul once again the carranam power spread through the castle and farther out and the first snow of the season fell on the Staghorn mountains. 

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn  @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127 @mariaofdoranelle @yashiw @renxzs  @aelin-gods-killer

[lupinqs]

LOVE ACTUALLY ━━ wnba!paige bueckers x reader

𝜗𝜚 ━ summary: you and paige spend christmas together with your families.

𝜗𝜚 ━ word count: 5.5K

𝜗𝜚 ━ warnings: brief allusions to sex but really just pure fluff

𝜗𝜚 ━ links: my masterlist

𝜗𝜚 ━ author’s note: i wrote this when i was drunk out of my mind and i did not proofread so take that as you will. anyways merry christmas!

IT’S CHRISTMAS MORNING in Connecticut, the soft hush of snow outside only adding to the cozy warmth inside your childhood home. You and Paige flew in a couple days ago, grateful to spend the holiday surrounded by both of your families. Paige’s dad and her little brother, Drew, made the trip from Maryland, too, making it all the more homier.

The last year and a half has been a whirlwind. Moving across the country to Dallas was one of the hardest decisions you’ve ever made—graduating from UConn and then immediately leaving behind your friends, family, and everything familiar to follow Paige as she chased her WNBA dreams. At the time, you weren’t sure if it was the right choice. But now, as you think about the life you’ve built together, you know it was worth every bit of uncertainty. You’ve got a great job, a cozy little apartment in Dalls, and Paige has already had two incredible seasons in the W. She’s thriving, and so are you, and being here now, with your families under one roof, feels like the perfect reminder of how far you’ve both come.

The two of you are curled up in your childhood bedroom, the soft hints of morning light glinting against the light pink walls. Paige’s bare skin is against yours, her arm draped possessively over your waist, her hand resting firmly on your hip. Your cheek is pressed against her shoulder, and you can feel her slow, steady breaths as they rise and fall beneath you. Everything about this moment feels so peaceful, so perfect, that you can’t help but linger in it.

Paige shifts slightly beneath you, and her fingers tighten their hold, pulling you closer. You tilt your head up to find her already looking down at you, blue eyes still heavy with sleep but soft with that familiar adoration that always makes your chest tighten. Her lips curve into a small, sleepy smile.

“Merry Christmas,” she murmurs, her voice husky and warm, roughened by sleep in a way that sends a shiver through you.

You smile back at her, your lips brushing the skin of her shoulder as you reply, “Merry Christmas.”

She leans down to kiss you, and it’s slow and unhurried, a perfect reflection of the way the two of you are easing into the morning. Her lips are soft against yours, her hand moving from your hip to your ass, squeezing gently as she deepens the kiss. Your body reacts instinctively, shifting closer, and Paige takes the opportunity to guide you over her, her hands steady on your waist as she pulls you to straddle her.

Her hands roam lazily over you, mapping the familiar terrain of your body as if she’s memorizing it all over again. The feel of her palms on your bare skin sends warmth pooling in your stomach, and your breath bitches when her fingers trail power, brushing against your inner thigh.

It’s enough to send your mind flashing back to last night, when Paige had you biting into your pillow to keep quiet, fucking you in a way that was far from appropriate with both of your families in the house, in the rooms just next door. It was reckless, but neither of you cared much in the moment. And judging by the way her fingers swipe teasingly at your clit now, she’s not feeling particularly concerned this morning, either.

A gasp escapes your lips, and Paige smiles against your mouth, her tongue sweeping in to claim yours in a kiss that’s deeper and more demanding. Just as her fingers begin to circle your clit lightly, the door knob rattles sharply, accompanied by Drew’s unmistakable voice.

“Why is the door locked? Wake up! We’re opening presents!”

The two of you freeze, and then Paige groans in frustration, pulling away reluctantly. She tilts her head back against the pillows, her hand coming up to drag across her face as she yells back, “We’re comin’! Go downstairs, we’ll be down in a sec!”

There’s a pause, then the sound of Drew retreating down the hall. Paige drops her head back to look at you, her expression equal parts annoyed and amused. “Always interrupting,” she mutters, leaning in to steal another slow, languid kiss.

You smile against her lips, your hand coming up to brush her hair back from her face. “We gotta get up,” you say softly, though you make no effort to move just yet.

She sighs, her arms wrapping around you to pull you closer for a moment longer. “Yeah, yeah,” she mumbles, her lips brushing the corner of your mouth.

Eventually, the two of you untangle yourselves, reluctantly leaving the warmth of the bed to retrieve the matching Christmas pajamas Paige insisted on buying. Hers are just slightly too big, the waistband of the red plaid pants hanging low on her hips as she pulls on the soft cotton shirt. She tosses you your pair, watching with a lazy grin as you shimmy into them.

By the time you’re both dressed, Paige wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close for one last kiss before heading downstairs. When you get down there, the smell of fresh coffee and the sound of Christmas music fills the air. Your families are gathered around the tree, Bob offering you both a warm smile, your parents calling you cheerful “Merry Christmases” from the couch.

Drew has taken his role as gift sorter very seriously, picking up each package, reading the tags with exaggerated importance, and then delivering them to their respective piles like he’s Santa himself. You and Paige sit side by side on the floor, leaning into each other, your thighs pressing together as you watch. Her hand rests on top of yours, brushing her thumb over your knuckles, and it makes your heart swell.

Your older brother lounges beside you, watching Drew in amusement. His grin slowly shifts into something cheeky, though, as his gaze lands on you and Paige. He leans closer, lowering his voice. “Late night?” he asks, eyes glinting with mischief as they flick to the faint circles under your eyes.

Your cheeks flame instantly, and you seat at him, whispering sharply, “Shut up!”

He laughs, lea no no away just in time to avoid your second hit. “Hey, just sayin’,” he teases, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “You both look a little… tired.”

Paige smirks beside you, clearly trying not to laugh, but you nudge her with your elbow, giving her a pointed look. She quickly schools her expression, though the amusement in her eyes is impossible to miss.

Your head snaps toward the couch, where your parents and Bob are chatting, thankfully oblivious to the exchange. You exhale in relief, shooting your brother a glare that promises retribution later.

Eventually, Drew claps his hands together dramatically. “Done!” he declares, plopping down onto the floor next to his own gut pile.

Your mom beams. “Stockings first!” she says, already reaching for her phone to start taking pictures.

Everyone does as she says, reaching for their stockings. You sift through yours, pulling out chocolates, fuzzy socks, and a cute little keychain your mom must have picked out. Paige grins as she pulls out a gift card, showing it to you like it’s a trophy. Drew’s stocking is filled with candy, which he immediately starts eating, and your dad jokes about how he gets socks every year without fail.

Your mom takes picture after picture and you roll your eyes in amusement as she pointedly tells you to smile wider for the photos.

Once the stockings are emptied, it’s time for the real gifts. The family settles into a rhythm, taking turns opening gifts. You and your brother exchange gag gifts that leave you both laughing, shaking your heads. When it’s Drew’s turn, you can’t help but feel smug as he opens your gift—a limited-edition jersey—and immediately declares it his favorite, much to Paige’s offense. She pouts dramatically, muttering, “I tried so hard,” which only makes you grin wider at her.

Her moment of redemption comes soon enough, though. Paige’s gift to your mom—one of those electronic picture frames that flashes different photos of your family—earns a gasp of delight. Your mom’s eyes shine as she hugs it to her chest, turning to Paige with a heartfelt, “Oh my gosh, Paige, sweetie!” She leans down to kiss Paige’s head, and you catch the faint blush on Paige’s cheeks. Your heart swells as you watch her fit so seamlessly into your family.

When Paige opens your first gift to her, you watch nervously as she opens the shoes she’s been eyeing for weeks. “Babe,” she groans, clearly thrilled but half-scolding you for indulging her obsession. You roll your eyes, telling her she deserves them, even if they barely have room in your already shoe-filled apartment.

Her second present from you is a new pair of Airpods, which were more of a last minute thing since she lost her pair on the flight here. She thanks you, knowing she needed them.

The last gift is the one you were just excited to give: a framed collection of her college jersey behind a collage of photos from her UConn career, the biggest one being of her holding up the natty trophy. There’s a handwritten note in the back of it, telling you how proud you are of her. You can’t take all the credit for it, though, as Nika helped you with a lot of it when she was visiting you and Paige in Dallas a few weeks ago. Paige’s eyes mist over as she stares at it, and she leans over to press a firm kiss to your temple, whispering how much she loves you in your ear.

Paige’s gifts to you are just as thoughtful. She starts with handing you a small box. You open it and gasp—they’re a pair of diamond earrings—actually, the pair of diamond earrings—you’d fawned over at some event you attended with Paige, where there had been a ton of different jewelry displays. “Shit,” you murmur, fingers ghosting over the diamonds. You’d seen the price tag on it, you know how expensive they were. You lean your head on Paige’s shoulder, saying, “Thank you, P.”

She grins before handing you your next one—a weekend getaway to a cabin in the Pacific Northwest. You’ve talked about wanting to go so many times, jokingly telling her you want to live out your Twilight dreams, and now here you are.

“Paige,” you whisper, staring at the printout of the reservation.

“You’ve been stressed,” she says simply, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You deserve this.”

The room falls quiet as you hug Paige tightly, everyone sifting through their opened gifts, satisfied. You think all the gifs have been opened, so you settle back, too, but then Paige’s voice cuts through the chatter. “Wait,” she says, her smile lighting up her face. “You’ve got one more.”

You narrow your eyes at her, exasperated. “Paige,” you groan, knowing she’s already gone overboard.

“Chill,” she laughs, waving off your protest. She gestures toward your brother. “Come help me.”

Confused, you watch as your brother jumps up eagerly, everyone else around the room exchanging knowing, excited smiles. You start to stand, too, but Paige shakes her head, her grin widening. “Stay here,” she tells you. “Be patient, babe.”

You sit back down, bewildered, as Paige and your brother disappear into the basement. Everyone else seems to be in on whatever this is, and you try to piece together the surprise, but you’re left empty-handed.

A few minutes pass before your brother and Paige finally emerge back from the basement. You immediately notice Cooper, your family’s golden retriever, darting ahead of them. His nails click against the hardwood floor as he bursts into the living room, tail wagging so hard it looks like it might propel him into the air. He’s a whirlwind of energy, bounding straight for Drew, who’s still sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by wrapping paper. Drew laughs, trying to push Cooper’s snout away as he eagerly licks at his face. The dog is clearly thrilled to finally be apart of the action after being booted to the basement during gifts because he was too hyper.

Your focus shifts back to Paige, who’s holding a large box in her arms. She’s being careful with it, her steps deliberate as she sets it down in the middle of the floor, a few feet away from you. The grin on her face is impossible to miss—it’s a mixture of pride, excitement, and something that feels almost mischievous.

Your eyes narrow immediately. “What is it?” you ask, suspicious.

“You see,” Paige replies, her tone teasing as she kneels beside the box. Her hands rest on the top of it, and she’s clearly holding back a laugh at the confusion on your face.

Your gaze darts to your brother, who’s leaning casually against the couch with a smirk. You turn back to your girlfriend, your suspicion growing. “Paige,” you say, dragging her name out. “If this is a prank…”

Paige gasps in mock offense, her blue eyes wide. “A prank? On Christmas? Would I do that to you?”

“Yes,” you deadpan, which earns a round of laughter from your family.

“Just open it,” Paige says, brushing off your sarcasm with a grin and a roll of your eyes.

You hesitate, shifting on the floor as you inch closer to the box. Something about it feels… odd. It’s big, but not heavy enough to be something truly large. And when you look closer, you think you see it move. Your breath catches, and you tilt your head, trying to hear.

You think you catch a noise.

Your heart starts to race as you reach for the kid, glancing at Paige one more time. “I swear to God,” you say, eyeing her.

“Just trust me!” she says, laughing now. Her eyes gleam, and her grin is so wide.

You lift off the lid, and for a second, you just stare.

Then, your entire face lights up.

“Wait, oh my God!” you exclaim, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. Inside the box is a tiny golden retriever puppy, his fur soft and fluffy, his bright eyes blinking up at you curiously. He has a red bow tied snugly around his neck, and he’s pawing at the edge of the box, already eager to escape.

You don’t hesitate—you reach in and scoop him up, cradling him in your arms as he wriggles excitedly. He’s warm and small, his paws pressing against your chest as he stretches up to lick your face. His little tail wags furiously, and you can’t stop laughing as he covers you in emphatic kisses.

“Paige!” you gasp, still laughing as the puppy snuggles into your neck. “Oh my God! Are you serious?”

“Surprise,” she says, her grin impossibly wide. She looks proud, and there’s a soft warmth in her gaze as she watches you hold the puppy like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

“I can’t—I—” you stutter, voice cracking slightly. Tears well up in your eyes as you hold the puppy close, his little head resting against your shoulder. “You really got us a puppy?”

Paige nods, sitting back on her heels. “I know how much you been wantin’ one,” she says softly. “So… he’s ours now.”

You blink back tears, your heart full as you look down at the tiny ball of fur in your arms. He lets out a soft tip and nuzzles closer to you, and you can’t stop smiling. “What’s his name?” you ask.

“Maverick,” Paige replies. “But I’ve been calling him Mav.”

“Maverick,” you repeat, testing it. It feels perfect, like it was meant for him.

You look back at Paige, your eyes shining. “When did you have time to do this?”

“They helped me,” Paige explains, gesturing to your mom and brother. “The day we got here, we went to pick him out while you went last-minute shopping. He’s been in the basement ever since, hanging out with Cooper and our brothers.”

Your mom smiles warmly from her spot on the couch. “It was all P’s idea,” she says. “She was so excited about it—she couldn’t stop talking about how much you’d love him.”

Your heart swells as you look at Paige, who’s trying to act nonchalant but is clearly basking in the praise. You lean over, the puppy still nestled in your arms, and press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I love you,” you whisper.

Paige smirks, though there’s a blush creeping up her cheeks. “I know,” she says playfully, earning a soft hit to her arm from you.

The rest of the morning is a blur of excitement. Maverick becomes the center of attention immediately, with everyone wanting to hold him or pet him. Even Cooper seems thrilled about the new addition, sniffling bum curiously and then wagging his tail like he’s just made a new best friend.

But no matter how much everyone else tries to steal Mav’s attention, he keeps coming back to you and Paige. Like he belongs there. Which, you suppose, he does now.

THE SNOW FALLS steadily, blanketing the night in a soft, shimmering layer of white. The world feels hushed, as though the snow has pressed pause on everything else, leaving just you, Paige, and Maverick in your one little bubble. Your boots crunch against the snow-covered sidewalk as you tuck yourself closer into Paige’s side, desperate for any warmth you can find against the freezing cold. The icy air nips at your nose and cheeks, and your breath puffs out in visible clouds.

“I cannot believe you dragged me out here,” you grumble, your teeth chattering as another gust of wind cuts through your coat. “It’s Christmas night. It’s freezing. Who does this?”

Paige just grins, looking entirely unbothered by the cold. “You’ve lived here your whole life,” she teases, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement as she gives you a gentle nudge with her elbow. “Suck it up. You’re supposed to be used to this.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t stop the smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I’ve gotten used to the Dallas heat,” you retort, because you have. Grumbling again, you burrow yourself deeper into your scarf.

Paige just laughs, reaching down to adjust Maverick’s leash as he bounds happily ahead of you, his tiny paws kicking up little sprays of snow. His golden coat gleams under the soft glow of the streetlights, and his tail wags furiously as he sniffs at the snowbanks on either end of the sidewalk.

“Look at him,” Paige says, gesturing to the puppy with a grin. “Look how happy he is. How could you not wanna be out here with him?”

You glance down at Mav, who’s clearly having the time of his life. You sigh, conceding the point. “Fine,” you mumble, pulling your coat tighter around you as you watch him hop through the snow like it’s the best thing he’s ever experienced.

The three of you continue down the street, the cold biting at your exposed skin, until you reach the town square just a block down from your house. It’s quiet and empty, just as you’d expected, but it’s so beautiful and familiar that you can’t bring yourself to complain anymore.

The little shops lining the square are all decorating for the holidays, their windows glowing warmly against the night. Twinkling lights are strung from lamppost to lamppost, and garlands of evergreen and red ribbon add a festive touch to the storefronts. The snow falls steadily, coating everything in a pristine layer of white, and for a moment, you feel like you’ve stepped into a scene from a Hallmark movie.

You glance over at Paige, and the sight of her bundled up in her coat and beanie, snowflakes caught in her golden hair, makes your heart squeeze. She looks over at you and grins, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold.

“Worth it?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

You huff, but you can’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “Maybe.”

She smirks, clearly pleased with herself, and gives Maverick’s leash a gentle tug to redirect him as he tries to nose his way into yet another snowbank. The three of you wander through the square until you reach the massive Christmas tree in the center. It’s a towering evergreen, wrapped in thousands of white and gold lights that cast a warm, inviting glow over the snow.

Paige slows to a stop near the tree, and you glance over at her, your breath catching slightly at the look on her face. She’s smiling softly, but there’s an unfamiliar nervousness—almost vulnerability—that overcasts her expression, making your heart stutter.

“What?” you ask softly as you tilt your head at her.

She steps closer, her gloved pinky brushing against yours before hooking around it gently. “This is where we first met,” she murmurs, her voice low, almost hesitant. “Remember?”

Of course you remember. How could you ever forget?

It had been five years ago, during one of those rare weekends when you’d been home from school in December. You’d been wandering the square with a fresh hot chocolate in hand, trying to find a Christmas gift for your mom. The snow had been falling just like it is now, and you’d been heading to the little jewelry shop on the corner when someone had barreled straight into your chest, spilling your drink all over you—and them.

That someone had been Paige.

You’d recognized her immediately, of course. Every student at UConn knew who she was—Paige Bueckers, the basketball sensation, the phenom. You were a freshman, she a sophomore, and you’d yet to see her on campus your entire first semester. But there you were then, seeing her in person for the first time, in—of all places—your coastal little hometown. It was the last thing you’d ever expected.

She’d been mortified, stumbling over herself as she apologizes and offered to buy you a new hot chocolate. You’d tried to brush it off, but she’d insisted, dragging you back to the little café to get a replacement. The two of you ended up talking while you waited for it, and when she found out you went to UConn, her eyes had lit up.

Somehow—still to this day, you’re not entirely sure how—she’d managed to get your number before you left. The next week, you’d hung out on campus for the first time. And from there, it had been history.

Now, five years later, you’re standing in the exact same spot, under the glow of the exact same Christmas tree, with the snow falling around you just like it had that day.

Your chest feels tight as you look at her, taking in the way the snowflakes catch in her hair, the way her blue eyes shine against the cold. She’s so beautiful it almost hurts.

“Of course I remember,” you whisper, your breath fogging up in the cold air.

You watch as Paige takes a little breath, her chest rising and falling as she glances down at the snow-covered ground. Her lips part, but no words come out right away. Her hands fidget slightly with Maverick’s leash, and the Paige Bueckers standing before you—this soft, nervous version of her—is such a stark contrast to the confident and often-times annoying girl you’re so used to seeing.

You tilt your head, eyebrows knitting together in concern. “What’s wrong?” you ask gently, voice barely audible over the soft crunch of Mav’s paws in the snow.

But she shakes her head, glancing back at you with what might just be the softest smile you’ve ever seen. It’s disarming, and your breath catches in your throat a little at it. “I have another gift for you,” she murmurs.

You blink at her. “Paige, no,” you protest immediately, a small huff escaping your lips. She’s already gotten you more than enough—between the thoughtful, expensive presents she gave you earlier and the effort she’s put into making this Christmas perfect, you feel spoiled.

But Paige just shakes her head again, her smile widening just slightly as she takes a step closer, reaching for your gloved hands. You don’t resist as she pulls them out of your pockets and wraps her own around them, the warmth of her touch seeping through the fabric. Maverick’s leash rests between both of your palms, the two of you holding him together.

“Stop,” she says softly, her voice almost teasing but laced with something deeper. “It’s fine. It’s just—this one’s a little… different than the others, ‘kay?”

Your brows furrow a little, still confused. There’s something in her expression—something hesitant and vulnerable, almost like she’s unsure of herself—and it makes your chest stumble. Slowly, you step closer, your eyes boring into hers as you whisper, “P, I don’t know what more you can give me. You’ve already given me everything.”

She lets out a breath at that, exhaling slowly. “Not everything,” she murmurs, eyes downcast.

You tilt your head in question, half-lost. “What d’you mean?”

Paige takes another deep breath, her hands tightening around yours just slightly. For a long moment, she doesn’t say anything, and you can see her trying to gather her thoughts, her blue eyes darting away from yours and then back again.

“Okay, um…” she starts, her voice faltering a little before she lets out a nervous laugh. “I—I don’t really know how to say this, because I’ve been thinkin’ about this for so long, had it all prepared, but now that we’re actually here, it’s—it’s all just kinda gone away…”

Your heart is pounding now, your stomach twisting in anticipation. Paige is rarely like this—stuttering, stumbling over her words—and the fact that she is has you hanging on her every syllable.

She shifts her weight, glancing down at the snow-covered ground for a moment before looking back up at you. Her cheeks are even more pink than before, whether that be from the cold or nerves, and the look in her gaze makes your throat tighten.

“I love you,” she says finally, her voice steady now despite the nervous energy radiating off of her. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I can’t—I can’t even imagine a version of my life where you’re not in it. You’re—you’re my best friend, my person, my everything. And every time I think about the future, it’s you, always you. Every single time.”

Your breath catches, and you think your eyes begin to swim, though you’re not even entirely sure why yet. You squeeze her hands lightly, trying to reassure her even though you’re the one suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

“I want to do this forever with you,” Paige continues, her voice growing softer with each word. “I want every Christmas with you, every family gathering, every walk with Mav. I want you to be there for all my big moments, and I want to be there for all of yours. I just—I want you. Forever. And I don’t wanna wait anymore to tell you that.”

She lets go of one of your hands then, reaching into the pocket of her coat. For a second, you’re confused, your heart hammering in your chest as you watch her movements, and then—

Oh.

Oh.

Time seems to stop as Paige pulls a small, velvet box from her pocket and drops to one knee in the snow. Your eyes widen, your breath freezing in your chest as you stare down at her, completely locked in place.

She flips the box open, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. It’s simple yet stunning, a perfect match for you in every way, and the sight of it sends a rush of emotions flooding through you.

“Baby,” Paige says, her voice trembling slightly as she looks up at you with the most earnest expression you’ve ever seen. “Will you marry me?”

Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. Your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure she can hear it, and your eyes are completely flooded now.

Paige stays kneeling there, her gaze locked on yours, and she looks so hopeful, so full of love, that it takes your breath away. The world around you seems to blur, the snow falling softly around you and the glow of the Christmas tree lighting up the moment like something almost out of a dream.

You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t do anything but stare at her as the weight of what’s happening finally settles over you. Paige Bueckers—the girl who spilled hot chocolate on you five years ago, who turned your entire world upside down without even trying—is asking you to spend the rest of your life with her.

The words catch in your throat, tangled between a sob and a laugh, as you finally come to your senses. Your lips tremble, your heart racing faster than ever, and then it all bursts out at once. “Yes,” you choke, voice breaking. “Fuck, yes. Of course, baby.”

Paige lets out something between a laugh and a sob of her own, her grin so wide it’s almost silly. Her eyes are glistening with tears, matching yours, and for a moment, you’re both just staring at each other like you can’t quite believe this is real.

And then you move.

Instead of waiting for her to stand, you drop down into the snow with her, no longer caring about the cold or the fact that your pants are already damp. Your hands find her face as you crash your lips into hers, kissing her so deeply, so passionately, that it feels like your chest might explode from everything you’re feeling.

Her hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer as the snow falls softly around you, your noses brushes and your tears mingling between the kiss. It’s emotional and raw and maybe the most meaningful kiss you’ve ever shared, the kind that feels like a promise all on its own.

When you finally pull back, breathless and overwhelmed, Paige presses her forehead against yours. Her eyes shine cerulean, her cheeks streaked with tears, but she’s smiling like she’s never been happier in her life. She presses one, two, three quick pecks to your lips, her grin only widening with each one.

You laugh softly, your heart still racing, and then she’s reaching for your left hand, gently tugging your glove off. Her fingers tremble slightly as she takes the ring from its box, sliding it onto your finger with the utmost care.

It fits perfectly.

Paige leans down, brushing her lips against the ring on your finger like it’s the most sacred thing she’s ever touched. “Perfect,” she murmurs, her voice soft and full of awe.

And then, suddenly, Maverick bounds into the moment, pouncing between you and Paige with all the enthusiasm of a puppy who has no idea what’s just happened but is thrilled to be a part of it. His nose nudges your hand, and you both laugh as his tongue flicks out, licking the shiny new ring before jumping up to cover Paige’s face in kisses, too.

“Okay, okay!” Paige laughs, trying to fend him off but not really putting much effort into it. You giggle, reaching out to scratch behind his ears before pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

Paige skips her arm around your neck, tugging you close again. Her voice is soft but teasing as she murmurs, “Now I can finally call you my wife, and no one can complain ‘bout it.”

You roll your eyes, though your smile betrays how giddy you feel. “Still not your wife,” you correct, holding up your hand to show off the ring. “Fiancée.”

Paige just shakes her head stubbornly, her nose brushing against yours as she whispers, “Nah. Wife.”

And then she’s kissing you again, her lips warm against yours despite the chill in the air. Mav paws at both of you, trying to squeeze himself into the moment like he doesn’t want to be let out, and you laugh against Paige’s lips, your heart so full it might burst.

Because there, in the snow, at the very spot where you first met five years ago, the world feels impossibly small and endlessly vast all at once. This is a new beginning—the two of you, Maverick, and the life you’re going to build together. It’s the start of your family, the start of everything that comes next, and as Paige kisses you again, with snowflakes catching in her lashes and Mav pawing at your side, you realize with a sneaky feeling that love actually is—all around.

[days-until-burnout]

hellow *looks at u with big ole eyes* i am in need of more scarishbeans pwease 🥺🥺🥺 the very fluffy type 🥹🥹 as always ur writings are wonderful and i hope u have a very good timezone 🎀

(can u guess who i am LOL 😔 hint: the only person that requests scarjoel💀)

*looks at you with even bigger eyes* scarjoel for u yes OH NO. I JSUT REREAD THE PRMPT YOU SAID FLUFFY NOOOOOOOOO I FUCKED UP. FORGIVE ME 😭 i had no ideas so i pulled a prompt generator and i got "Your character has big news but no one to tell it to." forgive me _____

📧 Day 114 (d) -

Characters - Scar/Joel Words - 638 Time - 30 mins Content - School setting

Joel jumps high in the air, clutching his phone tight as he fists the air. He cheers loudly by himself, beaming when gravity eases him down, even the wind brushes his cheek and ruffles his hair. Jealousy, he holds his phone to his chest, clutching his hand on top as he feels his heartbeat everywhere. 

His face breaks, hurting with a smile. 

When he looks back at his screen, re-reading the words over and over, his heart jumps every single time like the first time. Relief, a sense of achievement, suddenly fuller. 

Overcome with feelings, he falls to his knees, the joy shattering at the edges like waking up from a good dream. The curtains fall, the rug pulled from under him. His chest tightens, suffocating his heart where it once pounded with excitement. 

When he stares at the ground under him, thumbs across his screen, his reflection staring right back. His shadow falls over him, the world dimmer without the sun warming his skin. 

The tears follow shortly after.

This is pathetic, he knows. 

Oh, how he knows. 

“Oh, hello there!” 

Joel jumps, forcing himself to not turn around before rubbing his eyes with the cuff of his sleeve. It stings and scratches, burning over the scorching tears. He breathes in and out, willing himself back to composure. 

When he finally turns around, he sits on the grass, facing the sun blocked by Scar. He finds curiosity in twinkling eyes, something nice and gentle in his expression. Scar limps over, huffing as he drops his cane, carefully lowering himself on the grass in front of him. 

“Hi, Scar,” Joel greets, gaze dropping to his phone. His reflection stares back, but harder to tell apart from the sunlight. 

“Aw, you look very sad. What is wrong, Joel? Something you want to share with your good ol’ pal Scar?”

Joel chuckles, a little bitterly. They are not friends, and never were. In another lifetime, if they made different decisions, maybe they would have been friends. Now, however, Joel can only look up to the guy everyone wants to befriend. Such a cool guy, so approachable. 

Still, his mouth gets ahead of his head, “It’s nothing.”

“Oh?” Scar tilts his head, eyebrows raised with even more curiosity now. “So there is something to share! Do tell, Joel, do tell.”

Instead of talking, Joel unlocks his phone, handing it over. 

It takes a couple seconds for Scar to read it, and somehow, someway, his expression fills with excitement, almost pride. Joel tells himself he is imagining it, because surely he is. 

But then Scar is looking at him, right at him, smiling so wide. Joel freezes when Scar pulls himself over, pulling him in for a crushing hug. And he is saying things, praise and whatnot, nice things that he cannot even tell apart. 

Just sound. Everything is sound. Just the sound of Scar’s voice spoken into his hair and neck, nice things that sound so warm and soft and gentle. 

His heart is ready to burst, already forgetting the heartbreak of having no one to share the news with. His eyes gloss, prickling with tears again. They rain down his face, hot and wet landing on Scar’s shoulder. He raises his hands, taking fistfuls of Scar’s back as he buries his face into his shoulder, trying to bite back the sobs.

Scar places a hand behind Joel’s head, running his fingers through his hairs, his loudness taming at the change of moods. He holds Joel secure in his arms, smiling into his hair, and when he speaks next, his voice is softer.

“I’m proud of you,” he whispers, chuckling when Joel curls himself further into his arms. “You have done amazingly, Joel. You should be proud,” he nuzzles his cheek, lightly brushing his jaw with his lips, “very, very proud.”

_____

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 it ended fluffy at least 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 also, i *think* i know who you might be, but i cannot be for certain. no biggie going off anon or stayin, you can if you want. it does not affect anything, i promise well, for now, that's scar day for now 😌 i wanted to do convex but didnt get aournd to it. maybe anothe rday

[click for a random day]

[waterfire1848]

@stardust948

Part 2!

In the time of Aang and Sokka being knocked out, the Water Tribe completely takes over the Fire Nation, drowning most of the small islands and taking control of all their factories to make themselves weapons. Azula and Zuko get word a couple weeks after the WT takes control about what happened and it causes them to go to Kuei and demand that something needs to be done. Knowing now that they are literally the last stand against the WT, Kuei agrees to stage one final desperate attack. The day after he agrees to this, Sokka and Aang both wake up. Zuko takes Aang aside and tells him about what happened but this is also the time when Aang realizes that he no longer has his bending. Meanwhile, Sokka and Azula talk because Sokka saved her life. (Azula: Why? Why not join your sister and go home. Sokka: My dad...he isn't the best guy and I figured that out too late. Now my grandmother has been taken prisoner and my nation has conquered yours. Azula: There was nothing you could have done to stop the Fire Nation from being conquered. It's not your fault. Sokka: Thank you. Azula: But don't think that means we're all going to suddenly accept you with open arms. You have a LOT to make up for. Sokka: I know. All I ask is the chance to make up for it. Azula: Well, I guess throwing yourself in front of an attack to save me from getting stabbed by your sister is a good start towards getting that chance. Sokka: Start? Azula, smirking: Fine. You can have a chance. Sokka: Thank you. Azula: Not that it'll matter. Sokka: Why wouldn't it matter?) Azula tells Sokka about Aang and Sokka goes running off towards Aang, yelling and asking if he ever learned waterbending. Aang says no and Sokka reveals that since he never did he can still waterbend because that chi path was never unlocked (I don't know).

Sokka starts teaching Aang what little waterbending he knows (which isn't a ton being a non bender and all but some)(he’s also taking it easy because that’s what you do after you’ve been stabbed). While they do that, the Gaang also tries to figure out the best time to attack the WT. Sokka suggests going after them during the winter solstice. Since it's such a huge celebration and the one time they bring out Tui and La, all eyes will be on them and there will be fewer soldiers guarding the nation and the royal family. Sokka also provides them with information for how to go around the soldiers and get to the royal palace from behind. No one guards there because it's all just a giant frozen tundra, unless you have amazing equipment and are okay with the very real possibility of starving, freezing or being eaten then no one is going to get through that. The Council of Five takes the information and uses it to plan for an attack during the winter solstice. Since it's better for them to be there during the attack, the Gaang decide to fly over and stay in the WT until it's time for the attack.

They arrive in the North Pole (which is where everything is located for the WT) and start hiding out in different location, slowly getting closer and closer to the tundra while the EK comes up from behind, ready to meet them so that Sokka can guide them through the tundra. While in the North Pole, Sokka and Azula grow closer and closer especially when Sokka continues to show how trustworthy he is. (Sokka: Look! Look! You guys have to try this! Toph: What is it? Sokka: Seal jerky! It’s delicious. Aang: Ummm….maybe I’ll sit this one out. Sokka: Right. Uh-Oh! Try this. It’s called Mooncake. Aang: Mmm!! This is amazing. Sokka: I told you. Azula: You eat this? Sokka: Yeah? Why wouldn’t I? It’s delicious. Azula: I figured a prince would have more of a….fine dining experience. Sokka: Well, I did, but I also just ate regular snacks whenever I could. This was one of my favorites. My mom used to bring us down here and she’d….uh…. Azula: And she’d? Sokka: Sorry, I forgot.) Sokka and Azula bond over their love of WT food and Azula grows to really enjoy some WT activities such as penguin sledding, hunting and seeing the animals (despite what she says Azula find the orcas and leopard caribou so cute and loves listening to Sokka info dump about them). The two are also there for each other when it becomes too much to be in the WT (for Azula because she’s literally in the nation that killed her mom and for Sokka because he misses his home but know he’s not coming back anytime soon). (And yes both Sokka and Azula suck at flirting).

Throughout this time, the Gaang is also able to see more of the WT and come to understand why the war was starting and continued. It was started because the WT didn’t believe they could fully live off the land, at least to the same degree people did in the FN and EK, and when no one helped them, they grew angry and attacked. It was then continued because of Kya’s death and the inability of the royal family to process that grief. Despite what Katara and Hakoda have done, Aang does understand what grief can do to a person and is inclined to at least talk to them to see if there’s a chance they can end this without anyone getting hurt. Sokka doesn’t think there’s a chance of that but be also doesn’t want to hurt his sister and father (he’s split). Eventually, they arrive at the spot and meet the EK army.

Sokka guides the EK through the tundra, facing only a few bumps in the roads, edited they arrive at the royal palace just as the ceremony begins. Realizing that they’re being attacked, the tribe’s main focus is protecting Tui and La so there’s less defense surrounding Katara and Hakoda. Katara instantly runs off to attack the incoming invaders and begins bloodbending them without wasting a second. A blast from Azula forces Katara to release her hold and a rock over her eyes from Toph keeps Katara from bending. She can still waterbend, and does, but she can’t aim anymore and ends up hitting a few of her own people. (Azula: Did you mean to stab your own people? I wouldn’t be shocked. I mean you did stab your own brother. Katara: It was meant for you! I won’t miss this time, ashmaker!) Sokka joins the battle with Azula against Katara while Aang, Toph and Zuko go after Hakoda. The WT army, being in their native element, is a good match against the EK but they were also very much caught off guard and it allows the EK to take advantage of that surprise.

(Split into two) With Hakoda, Aang is trying to convince him to end the war and to stop the fighting, arguing that Kya wouldn’t have wanted this to happen. Hakoda refuses to listen to Aang and says that the world needs the pay for her death. Meanwhile, Azula and Sokka are fighting Katara and doing a better job of stopping her. Katara does get the rock off her eyes but Azula and Sokka are moving too fast and hitting her with too many attacks for her to bloodbend. Katara gets the chance to attack Sokka again but when she does all she can see is her mother and can’t bring herself to hurt him again. (Katara: Get out of here, Sokka. I’m giving you a chance. If you leave now and don’t return then I won’t look for you. Sokka: You know I can’t do that, Kat. Katara: Sokka, please, I can’t-…..we have to do this. Sokka: No, you don’t!) Azula also steps in with her own advice about her mother’s death. Together, they’re able to convince Katara to stand down and the three go after Hakoda. All together, the Gaang defeat him and his soldiers and bring the war to an end. Because of her role in the war, Katara is put under palace arrest (get it🥲) and Sokka takes over as ruler in the WT with Azula going between the FN (which has been…un-flooded) and the North Pole.

Sokkla Opposite AU, where Sokka is the banished Water Empire Prince looking for the Avatar and Azula is the last firebender of Hira'a who just found a boy inside a volcano.

Hello, @stardust948 !!! (BTW Love this reverse AU!)

1. Azula grew up in Hira’a because that’s where Ursa took the children and fled to when the Water Tribe attacking (very big mistake making your main city basically in a bowl). Iroh, Ozai, Lu Ten, Azula and Zuko were living their lives in the royal palace when the WT attacked and Ursa took the kids and fled to Hira’a which is where they’ve spent most of their lives (13 years). Ursa never stopped telling her children stories about Caldera and a time before the Water Tribe attacked and the Avatar which Azula rejected by Zuko was mesmerized by. Azula never really thought the Avatar could be alive and instead wanted to focus on defeating the Water Tribe so that they could go home. Iroh, Ozai and Lu Ten all never come to Hira’a so Ursa has no clue what happened to them but, shortly before Aang comes, she’s killed by the Water Tribe (who are looking for any remaining members of the Royal Family). Azula is the last firebender left in the area and feels the weight of this everyday. One day, she and Zuko are by the volcano (Zuko: Yeah. The Water Tribe would never look for two firebenders near a volcano. What a crazy idea. Azula: Zuzu. Zuko: Yes? Azula: I will know you into the active volcano. Please shut up. I’m trying to focus.) Of course he doesn’t shut up, Azula gets made and a familiar airbender pops out.

2. Sokka was banished by his father because he’s a nonbender. (Kinda hypocritical since Hakoda’s a nonbender too but…) Basically, Sokka was scarred and banished because Hakoda wanted Katara to take charge. He believed that she, being a girl in the Water Tribe, would be far more easy to control when she was on the throne as opposed to Sokka. So, Hakoda tricks Sokka so that when he goes on a traditional hunt, Sokka is attacked by a polar bear dog and blinded in one eye and returns home empty handed. Hakoda regards this as Sokka’s failure to show he can’t lead (he can’t even catch some food for a family. How is he expected to lead a nation?) and banishes him to find the Avatar. When Sokka sees the light coming from the Fire Nation island, he knows that this is his moment. (Sokka: Gran Gran, do you know what this means?!?! Kanna: That we have to go to the land where 80 degrees is their record low temperature?). Sokka’s scar is three long scratches over his eye and he can’t see out of it, so he relies on his other eye and good hearing to detect things. Also, because of his lack of bending, he’s become an expert in weapons and hand to hand combat which aids him greatly in an initial fight against Zuko (which he wins easily) and he doesn’t get to fight Aang because the airbender goes with him without issue (Aang: I bet none of you Water Tribe soldiers have ever fought an airbender before…)

3. When the Fire Nation was attacked, firebenders fled all over the planet and were hunted down by the Water Empire. Realizing they were weak, a good number of firebenders took whatever resources they could find and fled to the old Sun Warriors civilization. Azula and Zuko, being former royalty, were able to get that information and tell Aang about it so he can learn firebending (I changed the cycle. It’s now air, fire, earth and water). However, to throw Sokka off their trial they have to make a couple stops in the Earth Kingdom first. (Azula: I’m telling you, based on how Aang flies that water prince won’t be able to track us. Aang: What do you mean how I fly? Azula: We literally flew across two islands then flew back to both of those islands. Aang: Seems normal to me Azula: Yeah, no one is figuring out our pattern.) In the Earth Kingdom, they find Mai, who also fled with her family but they went to the Earth Kingdom. Mai is still trained as a markswoman but now she’s also helping the Yuyan archers. (Zuko: MAI! Azula: Your girlfriend is alive after all. Aang: Girlfriend? Azula: Mai and Zuko were inseparable before the Water Tribe attacked Caldera. They literally did everything together. Zuko: What?! No, we didn’t. Azula: Okay, we’ll pretend. Maybe we can also pretend the sky isn’t blue, Appa isn’t big and the Water Tribe doesn’t suck too. Zuko: 😡 Azula: This is only proving my point). Mai agrees to join after realizing where they’re going and what they’re trying to do.

4. Bato is a bit different from Zhao. He’s a family friend, but also Bato doesn’t just tell Sokka not to try and capture Aang. He gives him a chance but when Sokka can’t, he steps in and tells Sokka to remain put while he handles it. (Kind of in a…. ‘You’re my kinda sorta nephew’ way). Would you believe that Sokka doesn’t listen? Bato figures out where they’re going and that that’s the hiding place of the firebenders. The Water Tribe empire sends as many ships as possible and attacks while Azula, Zuko and Aang are there. When they arrived to the Sun Warrior’s home, they met Ty Lee who became a sort of spiritual person since her time in Caldera and is very closely connected to the dragons. When the city is attacked, she and the dragons emerge to protect the people and one of the dragons is shot down. The Water Tribe has GREAT respect for the spirits but they don’t really care for the first benders of other nations so killing a dragon is not a big deal to them. You know who it is a big deal for? Aang. While Aang attacks the Water Tribe, Ty Lee sacrifices herself to become the second dragon and maintain balance. (Sokka: Bato! Bato! Bato, hardly breathing because the dragon drove its claws into his chest: Hey, Sokka. Sokka: BATO! Bato, don’t worry. We’ll get a healer and- Bato: Don’t. I’m okay. Sokka: The blood coming out of your body would say otherwise. Bato: Sokka, I don’t know what you know about your father’s plan but promise me you’ll stay safe. Sokka: I- Bato: Promise me. Sokka: I promise. Bato: Good. Good….Sokka: Bato?…Bato…😭) (Hakoda: Ugh! Advisor: Sir, I- Hakoda: Get Katara! Advisor: But the princess- Hakoda: Get her! Tell her that she has her first mission. Bringing her brother back and killing Team Avatar. I have a feeling her newest skill will be very useless for that.)

5. Katara in canon was incredibly strong on just a couple weeks of training. Now imagine her with years of training and being okay with bloodbending (yeah....not good). As the princess of the Water Empire, Katara has a military force behind her but chooses not to use it because she wants to move swiftly. To do so, she uses Yue and Suki to help her. Yue isn’t exactly a princess (since only Katara can fulfill that role) but because the Water Tribe is incredibly spiritual, she is held in high esteem for having some of Tui’s life force. Unlike Azula and Zuko in canon, Katara and Sokka get along great. The second Sokka sees Katara he runs over to hug her and ask her how she’s been. Katara really doesn’t have any bad intentions so she tells Sokka about the mission their father has given her and if he wants to help. Sokka grows worried though because he doesn’t have Aang and wonders why his father could want him back without the Avatar. (Katara: He wants you back. What’s the problem? Sokka: I just….I don’t know. It feels weird. Katara: He’s our father. Sokka: I know and I know he just wants what’s best for us both but- Katara: He probably wants you back now because the Avatar is back. Hope will return to the Earth Kingdom and whatever’s left of those ashmakers may come together again. We need our Prince. Sokka: You’re right. Katara: I always am. Sokka: Spirits, I forgot how annoying you are when you’re right. Katara: I’d like to think of it as more….announcing to the world that I’m smarter than you. Sokka: You were right in this one argument. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves). The first time the four meet the Gaang, Katara goes right for bloodbending and bloodbends them all. (Katara: You’re not living up to the legend, Avatar). She only losses because Azula hits her with enough fire that Katara has to back up and they escape on Appa. (Sokka: You learned to bloodbend during the day?!?! Katara: That’s not all I learned. Sokka: What do you mean? Katara: Let’s just say I have a very…creative way to make sure that little firebender and the Avatar never bend a single element again).

(Plus one) 6. In Ba Sing Se, Sokka realizes the truth: that Hakoda doesn’t want him to return and grows terrified of going back with Katara. With very limited options, since Katara is seconds from taking over the city, he decides to switch sides and make a desperate jump to Aang’s team (Azula: Why would you join us? Sokka:….The good of the world? Azula: 😑). Of course, no one on the team trusts him but they’re a little occupied with fighting Katara to really worry about that. While fighting in the final battle, it’s Katara vs Sokka, Azula and Aang and Katara is very angry that Sokka changed sides. She’s angry enough that it throws her off her game and she ends up at Azula’s mercy with a flame to her throat. (Aang: Azula, no! Azula: We have to! If we don’t kill her now then she’ll kill us later! Aang: No! We can’t kill her. Azula, taking her eyes off of Katara: Aang- Sokka, noticing what Katara is about to do: Azula, watch out! *He pushes her out of the way of one of Katara’s attacks and Katara sends an ice blade past Azula and straight into Sokka’s chest. Sokka: AHHHH!! Azula: Sokka!) Katara takes the moment of panic to attack Aang, bloodbending him and Azula down and removing Aang’s bending but being forced to flee (cause….the Earth King has guards) before she can remove Azula’s. Azula, Zuko and the guards get Aang and Sokka to a healer’s room while Katara, Yue and Suki flee the city without being detected. Azula remains with Sokka and Aang while they heal, staying with Sokka until he actually wakes up. (Azula: He saved my life. Zuko: He did. Maybe he has changed. Azula: Zuko: Azula? Azula: No one’s ever….Zuzu? Zuko: Yes? Azula: Nevermind. It’s not important. I’ll talk to Sokka when he wakes up.)

[rjrjrjrjrjrjrjrj]

If you see this…go cuddle with your loved ones!!

[amiharana]

i come bearing a revalink suggestion,, they’re friends?? rivals?? but Revali’s been trying to rile Link up in a more flirtatious way and it all comes to a head when the champaign’s are out on an expedition with Zelda and oops! someone forgot to bring enough bedrolls for the night, enter: sharing a bed

yk what i mean

HI ANON i'm sorry i took so long to answer 😭 but thank you for the suggestion 👁️👁️ i've written about revalink sharing a hammock, but that was them in an established relationship, so this.... and they were hammockmates (oh my god they were hammockmates)

the premise of my canon-based situationship fic (if i ever get to write it LOL) was going to kinda be like this, a pre-calamity revalink who have decided they are no longer going to be rivals, but not necessarily friends, and then somehow revali catches feelings for link 😄 i just love the idea of revali seeing link and being like "this fucking idiot. i want him so bad." and reluctantly attempting to court him even if he knows that link doesn't understand what he's trying to do. my favorite part of this is that link is completely clueless. he has no idea what the hell is going on but he appreciates that revali is nicer to him :D

(warning: long ass fucking post. but we are so fucking back baby)

imagine revali trying his damndest to work up the courage to go give link a bouquet of swift violets, because (1) he knows it's a hylian courting ritual and link is a pretty simple guy, so he'll probably appreciate flowers, right? (2) revali thinks swift violets are very pretty flowers actually, and (3) they have a functional use in increasing link's speed during a fight when cooked into a meal, and with how often link gets injured in battle, goddess knows he needs the extra boost. imagining revali trying to give the bouquet to link on several occasions, but he always ends up chickening out or he waits too long so the bouquet gets ruined or dies so he has to gather more flowers for a new one, and when he finally gets to actually hand the bouquet to link, he gets nervous and insults link like the dumbass he is 😭 ("being the one with more foresight between the two of us, i predicted you would be in great need of something as simple as these swift violets. perhaps you could stand to learn a meal or two utilizing their innate effects on the field.") and then it turns out link is actually allergic to swift violets KJDHFKJSHDKFJH and revali has to take him to the infirmary in shame

just an endless string of the most cartoonish failures of revali's attempts to court link ☝️😹 because it either ends in disaster or link completely misunderstands the situation, and of course revali gets frustrated that link isn't understanding his advances, what an idiot! and it makes him want link even more! so his advances become more and more obvious until even daruk is like. hey man. please calm down now it's not that serious. and revali is like NO he's so stupid daruk how can he not understand that i am trying to court him!!! how much clearer can i make it? (meanwhile daruk is like 🧍)

but revali's desperate pleads are answered when zelda calls the champions early in the morning into the throne room for a mission 🙇 i'm thinking maybe there have been sightings of a lynel up in the northernmost part of akkala and it seems to be much more powerful that the citadel squadrons can handle, so they've called in the help of the champions. not that i'm actually gonna write about them fighting the lynel though 😹 you know me, i just be creating context and circumstances wherever i go

"they couldn't handle one lynel? revali says, when the princess finishes. "you would think a fortress chock-full of hyrule's greatest soldiers would be able to take at least one down."

"well, i don't see you volunteering," urbosa says crossing her arms, a faint smile on her lips. "would you like to show them how it's done?"

revali shoots her a glare and then tilts his beak up, tossing his braids over his shoulder. "hmph. i normally don't waste my time on something as savage as a lynel, but if it could inspire better archers of the citadel, then i suppose my extraordinary skills may be necessary there." out of the corner of his eye, he glances at link; the little hylian doesn't react at all to his boasting, continuing to stand calmly at attention. it irks something in revali, but he blows air out of his beak and turns his head again. stupid link.

zelda sighs. "well, if we are all settled then, i dismiss you all to begin preparations to leave. we hope to leave just past noon and make it to foothill stable by nightfall."

"that'll be right in between our homes, miphy!" daruk says, placing his hands on his hips and leaning backward to laugh heartily. "ah, we've stayed at the castle so long i almost forgot what the heat of death mountain feels like!"

"i feel similarly, daruk," mipha says, giving a small smile. "i wonder if my father and sidon are doing well..."

zelda bows her head in remorse. "i apologize for keeping you all from home for so long. i did not intend for you to stay this long, either."

"it's alright, little bird," urbosa says, stepping forward to place a hand on zelda's shoulder in reassurance. "it's our duty as champions to serve the land of hyrule and protect it from all evildoing. if staying a little longer is what will ensure this era of peace and prosperity, then so be it; we can be patient." she smiles at the princess, and zelda stares at her with wide eyes for a moment before returning the smile.

"thank you, urbosa, i appreciate your kind words," she says. zelda turns back to the rest of the champions and bows her head slightly again. "i will see you all in a few hours. thank you."

SORRY FOR WRITING OUT THINGS THAT HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH THE PROMPT LMAO. ONCE AGAIN. I JUST LOVE TO SET THE STAGE AND CREATE A CIRCUMSTANCE. i also just miss the lack of champions in totk 🥹 but anyways! zelda & the champions meet at the front of the castle and with some extra personnel (hi impa!) & a battalion, they all set out towards the akkala citadel as the sun hits its peak in the sky.

at this point, you might be thinking, why don't they just travel in the divine beasts since they're bigger and can cover more ground in a shorter period of time? and to that i tell you, 🌸 shut the fuck up 🌸 KJDFHKDFJKH nah but in my head in this point of time, the champions all left their divine beasts in their respective regions because they're all still learning to control them and they would rather not go stomping around on random civilians while traversing hyrule. do you know how insane it would be to be a traveler going through hyrule field to visit the coliseum or something and then all of a sudden, a gigantic stone camel with long ass legs nearly squashes you flat? i would die of a heart attack on the spot.

i also think it's important to romanticize the naturalness of traveling on-foot and it would also be interesting to see how they would accommodate for each champions' needs or habits as they travel together; they have to travel near water so that mipha doesn't dehydrate, revali and daruk leave the main group momentarily every now and then to go burst into the sky or roll down further along the path respectively bc they're sick of walking, etc.

the group reaches foothill stable just after sundown; revali complains that they should have just brute forced it to the citadel since it was just further down the road, but zelda insists that it could be dangerous since ganon's power seems to be growing and they could be ambushed by monsters in the night. as safe as the citadel seems, they shouldn't let down their guard! so revali, not wanting to fight with the literal princess of hyrule, just shuts his beak and trudges along after the rest of the group, the calm warm glow of the stable in the distance growing brighter as they approach. he won't admit it out loud but he's a little weary from travel too 😹

link and zelda board their horses at the stable, and everyone else sets up camp just off to the side of the stable, pitching tents, starting campfires and cooking pots, and passing out bedrolls. but as they unpack and pass out bedrolls, they realize that there's not enough for everyone to sleep comfortably through the night. zelda pays for the rest of the beds in the stable to cover for the rest of the battalion, but it leaves out one soldier who link knows happens to have sleeping problems or something. so he decides to give up his bedroll to the dude; it's not like he needs it as much, he could probably fall asleep straight in the dirt right now if he wanted.

"ah, champion link! i couldn't take this from you—" the man starts, but link just shakes his head and pushes the bedroll into his arms, giving him an insistent look. the soldier accepts the bedroll in defeat, but bows his head. "oh... well thank you, champion, i appreciate it very much!" link nods and turns away before returning to the rest of the champions.

"hello, link— where's your bedroll?" mipha says, noticing the lack of one in his hands. link tilts his head back towards the soldier he had given his bedroll to. "oh, what about you?"

he just shakes his head. "don't need one," link says softly. though he's comfortable speaking with the champions, he's still not used to the way his own voice reverberates against his throat; he hasn't used his voice as much as he should since he took his 'vow of silence'.

"what do you mean you don't need one, little guy?" daruk says, scratching his head. "i might be a goron, but fleshy little hylians like you are made for fluffy beds and—"

but link pays him no mind and strides over to a nearby tree (one that happens to be near the two that revali has set his hammock up at 👁️), drops his stuff on the ground and sits next to it, leaning against the tree with his arms crossed. mipha and daruk both open their mouths to object, but urbosa places a hand on both of their shoulders.

"leave him be," she says, as all of them watch link settle against the tree. "that boy is far too stubborn for his own good. once he has his mind set on something, he won't give up."

"you sure the little guy's gonna be alright?" daruk says, face contorted into an expression of concern. "i know he's tough, but i can't imagine that what he's doing is comfortable at all."

"he'll be fine," urbosa reassures him. she glances to the side, where revali is already keeping an eye on link, sitting at the tree where the farther end of his hammock from the little hylian is tied and tending to his bow. she smirks knowingly; "he's already in good care."

so everyone gets ready for the night; the battalion soldiers are already fast asleep, zelda, urbosa, and impa are sleeping in the stable beds, daruk is rolled up closer to the rockier terrain near the stable, mipha is straight up sleeping in the nearby cephla lake, leaving link and revali to be the only people awake. they're both still sitting against the trees, revali making the final tweaks to the great eagle bow and link polishing the master sword. revali has been stealing glances at link the entire time, watching and waiting for an opportunity (and also working up the courage) to say something. even at the base of death mountain, the cold night wind perseveres and revali catches every single tremor that goes through link's body as he shivers. maybe he could offer to...

"why did you give up your bedroll?" revali says finally. to be honest, he could probably already figure out an answer if he wanted to, but he asks anyway.

link pauses and glances up at him, before returning to polishing. revali's feathers ruffle at the lack of answer and he looks away, beak clenching. while he cared not for link's stance on verbal speech, acknowledging him and not giving an answer was rather unnecessary, wasn't it? especially since link had grown comfortable speaking with the princess and the champions, that should have included revali as well—

"i don't need one," link says suddenly, so softly, revali has to hold his breath, straining to hear the little hylian. link's voice is so quiet, it could be carried away by the night wind and revali is borderline obsessed with it, but the answer he gives is the same one he had given to the other champions. so revali says nothing and stares at link, prompting him to elaborate. "torin needed it more than me."

"torin?" revali questions. he wonders how much of the hyrulean army link knows by name.

"the man i gave my bedroll to," link replies, still wiping at his blade. "excellent fighter, great with a sword. but his chronic pain makes it difficult for him on the field." he sets down the cloth he was using to polish the master sword with and holds it up, appraising the blade. it glints in the moonlight quite elegantly. "giving him my bedroll is the least i can do to aid his comfort."

for a moment, revali is speechless; he had known that link was rather altruistic, always offering to help out even if it was inconvenient to himself. perhaps he shouldn't be surprised at all.

"you didn't have to do that though," revali says. he has stopped tending to his own bow at this point, letting it lay across his lap instead. "isn't it 'first come first serve' with you hylians? you were one of the first to receive a bedroll. you could have kept it to yourself, and i doubt anyone would complain since you're their champion."

link only shakes his head. "he needed it more than me," he insists, still in the same soft voice. "as a captain and a champion, it's my duty to care for my fellow knights. we're only as strong as our weakest member."

"then what about you?" revali says, staring straight at link. "if that's true, you're in no better of a situation than he was in previously."

"i'll survive," link says simply, and then, he yawns. at the same exact moment, another cold night breeze passes by, tousling link's bangs and once more does revali watch, completely entranced by the way link's body shivers in reaction. then, he slides the master sword back in its scabbard before raising his arms to stretch and yawn again. "sleeping on the ground for one night isn't that big of a deal."

and revali sees his chance and it stares right back at him like it's a challenge, like an eye glowing bright gold in the darkness; this is now or never.

"you don't have to sleep on the ground," he says quietly, but he looks down at the bow in his lap when he says it. in the corner of his eye, he sees link's arms pause mid-stretch before he slowly lowers them. he can feel the piercing blue gaze of link's eyes searing right through his cheek feathers and in turn, his heart skips a beat. stupid, stupid link. revali wishes he could despise the effect that a hylian of all people has on him.

"what do you mean?" link says in similar volume.

revali looks up to meet his gaze and swallows at the sight of those terribly beautiful blue eyes sparkling at him in the moonlight. now or never. "you could stay with me," he says softly, before he loses his nerve.

and link's eyes widen. if revali lets his vision blur a little, perhaps he can convince himself into thinking that the pink flush on link's cheeks is just the natural color of hylian skin, or just a trick of the moon's light and the glow of lava oozing down death mountain above them. but nothing can change the fact that he can see the entirety of link's irises, or the slight part in his lips.

"with you? in your...?" link whispers, but in this moment, his voice is the only thing the rito can hear at all. revali gives a single nod. "why?" there's not a single hint of mirth in link's voice, only genuine surprise.

revali looks away. "your heroism makes you foolish enough to give up the supplies necessary for your own survival in order to ensure the survival of others," he murmurs. "look at you, you're shaking in the cold like a loose feather. if you were a rito like i, you wouldn't have this problem."

he hears link snort and glances up at him. link is looking at him fully, a small smile on his face, and perhaps they are far too close to death mountain with the way that heat floods revali's cheeks and makes his limbs melt into the ground.

"and we wouldn't want the princess and the hyrulean army to wake up in the morning finding that their beloved champion froze to death in the night," he continues softly.

"no, i suppose not," link replies, still smiling. but the smile fades in the next moment or two, the pink flush revali had tried to pretend was just the color of his skin returning to link's cheeks much darker than before, as if to goad him. "s-so... how are we going to...?" he trails off, staring at revali with wide blue eyes.

revali blinks, and then swallows. truthfully, he didn't think he would get this far, but there's no backing out now. with his heart grabbing the bones of his ribcage and bashing its head against them, revali stands dusting himself off and hangs the great eagle bow on one of the branches of the tree. then, he turns back to face link, who's still staring at him with wide blue eyes and his pretty pink-flushed face from the ground. he walks towards link until he's standing in front of the little hylian, and then offers a hand.

"well firstly, are you ready for bed?" revali says, attempting to sound irritated, like his own offer is an inconvenience to him. but it's all in vain; his voice comes out too soft, too tender, too fond.

link stares up at him for a couple moments more before nodding, so revali extends his hand a little further out. "hurry up then," he says, voice still so unbearably soft. "i wouldn't do this for anyone else."

so link takes his hand and revali pulls him up in one swift movement. but he pulls too hard, because before he can even register it, suddenly both of link's hands are on his chest, his body pressed up against revali's. instinctively, one of his arms goes to circle link's waist, pushing them closer together, and the rito's ears are full of the sound of link's quiet gasp at the pressure; is he depraved to want to push him closer, to hear it again?

"s-sorry," link whispers, just slightly pushing off of revali's chest. "i didn't mean to—"

"it's fine," revali whispers back. with all his will, he lets his arm fall from link's waist to let him step away, resisting the urge to pull the warm little hylian back into his embrace. hylia above, how could revali ever have offered to share his hammock with such depravities rotting his mind?

revali turns away to walk towards the hammock, desperately trying to ignore the electric pull of the string tying him back to link. he looks over his shoulder back at the little hylian. "come on," revali says, feigning all the coolness, all the suaveness he can muster. the show must go on, after all.

revali slides into the hammock easily, settling into a comfortable position, and then he looks back at link. the little hylian stares down at his body and suddenly he feels self-conscious, his crest feathers ruffling. "are you getting in or would you rather stand there until sunrise?" revali snaps, and then cringes at his own tone.

but link only looks at him with the same wide, blue-eyed gaze sparkling in the moonlight. "yeah," he whispers, "i just..."

"just get in," revali mutters, looking away. "i won't fall out unless you're trying to make me fall out on purpose."

and slowly, so slowly, link grabs the edge of the hammock closer to him with hesitant, gentle fingers. he looks up at revali, who gives him a nod of encouragement, so he continues, reaching over revali's chest to grab the opposite edge of the hammock and begins to climb in. with some fidgeting and struggling, link lies atop revali's chest, their legs somehow tangled together. revali hopes the little hylian can't hear his heart drumming its high-strung song against his ribs.

"you're so warm," link whispers. "i didn't think you'd be."

"how do you think the rito are able to live so close to the hebra mountains?" revali murmurs back. "our feathers are insulative and keep us warm even in the most bitter of winters." he pauses, considering his next words, and then continues. "if you ever return to the village... our artisans are working on a prototype of an outfit to help featherless hylians like yourself brave the frigid temperatures of hebra. they are... using some of my own plumage to make it. if you wanted to truly experience the power of rito feathers yourself, i extend an invitation for you to come visit rito village at your earliest convenience."

"i'd like that a lot," link murmurs in response.

the rito hums in acknowledgement and they both fall silent. another cold wind breezes past and this time, link curls closer around revali's body, sighing quietly. instinctively, the rito raises his wings and drapes them around the little hylian's form in response, pressing him even closer than before. they stay just like this, beginning to drift off to the sounds of nature around them.

"revali?" link says suddenly, pulling revali a little bit out of his drowsy.

"mm?" revali replies. he doesn't try to summon the energy to even pretend to be irritated, only wrapping his wings tighter around link's body.

"thank you," link whispers. "for this. you didn't have to."

revali just hums back, letting the drowsiness pull him under. "go to sleep," he mumbles. "there will be more time for gratitude in the morning."

"okay," link whispers back, and revali feels him snuggle closer. there's a moment of hesitation, and in the next, it dissipates as revali finally falls asleep, feeling link's arms circle his torso, embracing him gently.

in the morning, the champions find them wrapped around each other in the hammock, urbosa being the first. she smirks down at them, a hand on her hip and shaking her head in amusement.

"ah, urbosa, where's link—?" mipha says as she approaches the chieftess. but she spots them right away, snapping her mouth shut and blinking owlishly until it grows in a held-back grin.

"i told you, link is already in good care," urbosa says. she looks past mipha to see daruk and zelda walking over, the latter yawning and tying her hair up. when they see the predicament that revali and link have gotten themselves into, daruk has to hold back a guffaw and zelda just rolls her eyes.

"they took their time, didn't they?" zelda grumbles.

"with all due respect, you should not be the one to talk, princess," mipha says, smiling politely. zelda wrinkles her nose at the zora princess, who giggles behind her hand.

"none of you should be talking at all," comes revali's voice, gravelly and hoarse from sleep. the champions turn back to the hammock, where revali gives them a dirty look with only one eye open. he remains in his position in the hammock, wings still wrapped around link who's asleep on his chest. "speak louder than a summer breeze and i'll show you the true strength of a rito's shot."

"my, my, so aggressive," urbosa muses. "has he made you soft for him already?" revali's glare only intensifies, so she holds up her hands in playful surrender. "alright, i'll leave you two alone. everyone, let's go start making breakfast. we have some time before we need to be at the citadel."

the rest of the champions begin to walk over to the cooking pots they've set up, zelda's head on mipha's shoulder and daruk listing off what his favorite types of rock meals are for breakfast. when they're out of earshot, revali relaxes and lets a breath out through the nares of his beak.

"what'd they mean, 'take our time'?" link suddenly mumbles against revali's chest.

revali blinks in surprise, staring down at the mop of dark gold hair atop him. "nothing you need to concern yourself with," he says, eyes wide. "when did you wake up?"

"been 'wake since 'fore sunrise," link mumbles. "jus' too warm 'n comfy to get up. hope you don't mind."

revali relaxes and sighs. "you're lucky i'm too comfortable to care either," he murmurs. he adjusts the way his wings are wrapped around link's body, and the little hylian hums and snuggles closer. suddenly, revali feels wide awake and he swears his heart could jump right out of his chest right now. "do you plan on remaining shackled to my body for the rest of the morning?"

"if you'll let me," link murmurs in response, and the rito feels like the breath has been stolen from his lungs.

"fine," revali acquiesces, once he feels like he can breathe again. "just this once... you'll have to get up to eat anyway. everyone here knows about your voracious appetite. you're incredibly insatiable for a hylian." it's not like he truly wants link to leave anyway... but link doesn't need to know that part.

link hums. "okay." they're both quiet for a couple moments, until the little hylian speaks again. "thank you again for this, revali. i appreciate it a lot."

revali pauses, his heart skipping several beats now. "good to know you possess enough of a developed brain to not take my gifts for granted," he replies, barely keeping the tremor out of his voice. but the rito's voice softens as he continues. "and... you're welcome. my kindness is not a gift i grant as often as you might think. so treasure it now; you may not be so lucky to receive it so freely again."

"i will," link replies, his voice muffled in revali's feathers. the rito swears he can feel link smiling into his skin. "so thanks again."

revali blows air through his nares of his beak. stupid, stupid link. try as he might to reject and dislike the effect this little hylian has on him, he can't help but crave it more and more. perhaps the bestowal of more of revali's gifts onto link are in order...

[xbasement-baitx]

I’m still so sleepy and it’s freezing out and the sidewalks are covered in snow but I have to walk my reactive dog😭