#the only place it snows where i live is in the middle of winter at the tops of mountains

[ink-stains-and-constellations]

WHAT DOES IT FEEL LIKE WHEN YOU CATCH A SNOWFLAKE ON YOUR TONGUE

I need to know for writing purposes. Please help.

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Neighbour - Noncon

With your electricity out and your devices dead, you have no choice but to turn to your neighbour for help. He's more than willing to welcome you into his home. Really, you're lucky he's such a nice guy.

Tags: male yandere x gender neutral reader, noncon, somno, just the tip anal, daddy kink but only if you squint, 3.3k words

Living in the middle of nowhere had its perks. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

But after the third day with no electricity, those perks were starting to look pretty damn weak. Your fridge was sitting in an ever expanding puddle. Almost all your devices were dead. And if you had to take one more cold shower you were going to cry.

It was when you were digging through your drawer looking for desperately needed batteries that you found your neighbour's number. He'd offered it to you a little while after you moved in, and while you two were on friendly terms, you'd never actually spoken for longer than a few minutes. You sighed, looked at the 10% left on your phone and decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

You: hey, it's me. I still haven't got any power. Do you mind if I come over to charge some stuff?

He replied almost instantly.

Unknown: aww that sucks

Unknown: come on over. I've got hot stew and a generator

Unknown: and you can take a hot shower too if you want

Score. And to think you found him intimidating at first. Just goes to show that you can't judge on appearances. You packed a change of clothes, your devices and the last tub of ice cream that wasn't totally melted. You'd find some way to properly pay him back but a tub of chocolate fudge double cream wasn't a bad way to start.

He was waiting on his porch when you pulled up. A bear of a man in a flannel and blue jeans, a five o' clock shadow darkening his jaw.

"Howdy neighbour," he drawled, opening your door for you while you grabbed your stuff. "Regretting leaving the city yet?"

You huffed a laugh. "You do NOT want to know the answer to that."

His cabin was much larger than yours, a two storey behemoth with wide windows and exposed beams. It had a rustic charm - like some natural park Air BnB where they charged a weeks pay for just one night. A little too big for just one man. Didn't he get lonely?

"I brought some ice cream and chocolate to say thank you. And also because it miiight have been melting."

He opened the door for you and ushered you through with a hand on your lower back.

"Hell, I'll never say no to something sweet."

There was a fire burning in the fireplace and a stack of logs in a crate next to it. He was so much better suited to this life than you were. He locked the door behind you and slipped the keys into his pocket.

"Old habit," he explained with an easy grin.

"Why don't you get settled? I'll plug your stuff in."

You handed over your tech with a relieved sigh.

"Thank you. Really. I'm so behind on work already and I haven't heard anything back from the power company."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," he said. "Once ended up going a week straight with not even a light bulb flickering."

You winced. "It gets that bad?"

"Yep. Especially in winter. Gets dangerous then too."

He tilted his head at you, concerned. "You need to get yourself better sorted before it starts snowing. I hate to think of you stuck out there when the blizzards start rolling in."

God, could you be any more of a city slicker? You rubbed your neck, embarrassed.

"Thanks. I've been here a few months now and I guess I just didn't realise how serious things can get."

"It's all good. But if I'm honest, I get worried thinking about you out there all alone. Plenty of drifters end up passing through. Not a good place to be alone, not for a little thing like yourself."

Little? You wanted to feel indignant, but looking at his bulk, you reckoned that most folk probably seemed little to him.

He lead you to the fireplace and poured you a mug of coffee from the pot that was waiting for you. He jerked his head at the hunting rifle on display above the mantle.

"I can teach you to shoot, if you've got some free time."

You took a sip of the coffee, internally debating with yourself. You could see the sense in your offer but you weren't a big fan of guns. Hell, just being around them was nerve wrecking enough. Maybe -

You looked down at your mug in surprise.

"This is some really good stuff."

The coffee was strong, bitter in the best sort of way. You could catch a hint of chocolate in it too. Just sweet enough to make your toes curl.

" 'Course. Only the best for my guest. Help yourself to another cup. I'll just put your stuff on charge and be right back."

You finished your drink in a few sips and happily poured a second serving. Hot coffee... man, you didn't think three days without it would be so tough. Usually, you were pretty sensitive to caffeine. But by the time your neighbour came back, your head was tilted back and you were half asleep.

You tried to shake yourself out of it but he just laughed and pushed you back down.

"You probably haven't had a good sleep since the power went out. Just rest. We can talk once you wake up."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's fine." His hand was still on your shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into your neck. "It's just fine with me."

You drifted off after that. Into a deep sleep without any dreams. Waking up was like slogging through molasses.

"Finally up sleepy head?"

It was dark outside and your neighbour was on one knee in front of the fire place, coaxing fresh wood to catch.

You sat up slowly. Your muscles ached and there was a strange, salty taste on your tongue.

"My heads killing me..."

He stood, poker still in his hand. "You must be starving then. I've already got some food on the stove. You'll feel better after you eat."

You didn't feel hungry at all. If anything, you felt almost hangover.

"Thanks," you managed. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."

He waved you away. "I don't mind a bit."

He came back with a bowl of steaming hot chow and stood with his arms crossed on the back of your couch while you ate.

"It's real late. I reckon you should stay over. I don't want you driving on dirt when it's so dark."

"Oh, it's fine. I've already put you out so much."

"Don't be silly. I insist."

You shivered without meaning to. That almost growl, low and bordering on menacing. It was so familiar, so...

"Just like that. Look at you, half asleep and still desperate for my cock."

"You like the taste? Yeah, I bet you fucking do."

"Ain't just gonna use your mouth next time."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Where the hell was this coming from? Were you remembering some sick dream from this afternoon?

"You okay there neighbour?"

You nodded. "Just my head."

Maybe he was right. Driving when you were so disorientated was just asking for trouble.

"If you really don't mind... I'll be happy to sleep over."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling thing. "I'll make the guest room up special, just for you."

"Could I use your shower too?"

"I offered didn't I? Come on, I'll show you where it is."

He took you to the master bedroom and jerked his thumb at the en-suite.

"Hot water is the most reliable in there. Door doesn't close that well though, so don't mind it. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

You brushed your teeth carefully. You lips felt sore, bruised in a way you couldn't explain.

You waited until you heard his footsteps going down the stairs before you stripped off your clothes. You stood under the hot water for a good few minutes, luxuriating in the feeling. The bathroom was thick with steam when you finally got to scrubbing yourself. The door was open just a crack and the bedroom beyond was dark. You forgot all about it until you heard the creak of the hinges.

You whirled to face the door, your hands coming up to cover yourself. The steam was too thick to see through. You called his name.

Nothing.

You stepped out with suds still on your thighs and pushed the door open. The room beyond was empty.

You sighed. God, you were being paranoid. Your neighbour was a great guy. It was unfair of you to treat him like a peeping tom when he'd gone out of his way to make you comfortable. It must have been just an errant draught.

You stepped back into the shower and rinsed yourself off. But no matter what you told yourself, you still kept an eye on the door.

When you went to change into your fresh clothes, you spent at least five minutes hunting for your underwear. Did you drop it somewhere? Oh, please say your undies weren't just sitting in the middle of his hallway. That would be beyond embarrassing.

Eventually you gave up and just decided to go without them. Not comfortable at all but still better than walking around in a towel to look for them. And much better than calling your neighbour in to help. Wouldn't that be fun? 'Hey neighbour that I don't know that well, you haven't seen my intimates lying around, have you?' Yeah, you'd never again get invited over after something like that.

When you were dressed, you found him already on his way up the hall. He was carrying a glass of water and some pills.

"Thought you might still have a headache, so I brought you some painkillers."

You paused, nervous but not sure why.

"Thanks." His hands dwarfed yours when he handed them over. You didn't recognise the name of on the pills, but they looked harmless. You tossed them back and gagged at the bitter aftertaste.

"They pack a punch, so tell me when you start to get drowsy."

"Aye aye captain."

You followed him to the guest room. It was at the very back on the second story, quieter than the rest of the house. A huge glass wall gave you a view of the forest disappearing into the darkness. You could see the ghost of your reflection in the glass, your neighbour a hulking, shapeless mass at your shoulder.

He took a seat in an armchair across form the bed and stretched out his legs. You perched on the edge of the mattress, still feeling a bit like an intruder.

"How long have you been staying out here?” you asked.

He smiled at you, teeth glinting almost wolf-like. "Got you curious?"

"A little. Folk in town say they hardly see you. I don't know... I'm just wondering if you ever get lonely."

He was quiet and you cursed yourself for being so nosy. You hurried to fill the silence.

"It's just that I get a bit lonely out here too. 'Specially when it's so quiet. And I guess I was wondering if it's the same for you."

He smiled at you, rueful. "At times. Used to be worse, but I've got a new interest to keep me occupied nowadays."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"Bird watching."

"Really? What do you look for?"

The way the room was lit up, you couldn't see his eyes. They fell into shadow and you only had his lips to read his emotions by. He smirked, slow and almost mocking.

"Just one bird I look out for. Flighty little thing. Tends to get caught by predators a lot. You’d probably recognise it."

The polite thing to do would be to ask what it was called. You didn't. Some part of whispered that you wouldn't like the answer.

You must have been quiet a little too long because he took it as his cue to leave. He stood, a mountain of muscle, his eyes not quite as nice as they seemed that afternoon. A trick of the light, surely. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

"You rest up. Got a busy day tomorrow."

"G'night."

He was gone before you thought to ask what he meant. And you were passed out on your pillows before you realised it. He was right. The pills sure did pack one hell of a punch.

You were aware of a shadow at the end of your bed. You weren't fully awake, and your limbs were slow and heavy with more than just sleep.

"Who..."

The shadow reached down and one warm paw circled your ankle.

"Just me little bird."

You knew that voice. It was the voice that brought you warm food and invited you in from the cold. You could trust it. Could go back to sleep and not worry about anything.

'No,' some part of you hissed, 'He's not as safe as you think.'

"Cold..."

The shadow laughed and it was the laugh of the fox finding the rabbit's den. Nasty. Hungry.

"Cold huh? Don't worry baby. I'll warm you right up."

He yanked your ankle towards him and your whole body slid down the bed. You were too drowsy to stop it.

"Knew you were gonna be mine the second I saw you," he cooed, hands running up your thighs.

His fingers slipped under your waistband, nails scraping your hip bones.

"Dumb little thing from the city. Doesn't even realise I've tripped all their breakers. That's why you don't have power baby. It's all me."

His fingers were as big as the rest of him. Thick, meaty. Skin rough from working outdoors. You whined when his fingertips scraped the edges of your hole.

"No underwear. You needy slut. That's practically a written and signed invitation to fuck you."

He pulled your pants down to your ankles and pushed your knees up to your stomach. And you were too out of it to stop him. Limp and pliable as a fuck doll.

Your tight ass was exposed to the cold air, entirely at the mercy of whatever he wanted to do.

"Cute." He circled his thumb around the rim, almost pushing in but not quite. "Wanted to be in this ass since you first showed up at my door all those months ago. Lookin' up at me all sweet. Fuck, it's enough to drive a man to desperation."

He lowered his head and you could feel his warm breath washing over your thighs.

He dragged his tongue across your hole. Some part of you must have been more awake than the rest, because your whole body jerked away from him.

"None of that," he cooed, hands digging into your thighs and dragging you back. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

He licked you again, deeper this time. The flexed tip of his tongue pushing at your entrance, and to your dull horror, actually slipping in. He moaned and you could feel the vibrations all through your crotch.

He pulled out and spat, rubbed it in with his fingers. One of them pushed in until the second joint, curling into your walls so rough that you gasped.

"Please..."

"Please what?" he mocked. "Please fuck my tight little ass? Please cum inside me? Use your words little bird."

"Please...stop..."

That made him laugh again, made him shove his finger in all the way to the knuckle. Twisting so cruelly as he pulled out and jerked back in.

"Stop? Stop? After all the work it took to get you here? No way baby. I'm not slowing down and I'm sure as fuck not stopping."

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, followed by a sharp intake of breath when he nudged his leaking head against your hole.

"You’re not going to remember this. And I'm not going to leave any evidence."

He pushed your legs tighter against your chest.

"So as much as I want to fuck you rotten, you're gonna have to be happy with just the tip."

He'd done a good job loosening and lubing you, but it still burned like a hot poker when he forced his way in. He groaned, almost in pain.

"You're fucking choking me. God, do you want my cum so bad?"

You could feel when the tip was in. That tiny difference in thickness between his head and shaft was oh so noticeable when your ass was clenching and fluttering around it. It was the smallest mercy, but mercy nonetheless.

He was panting from the effort of getting it in, the effort of holding back. The size difference between you almost perverse. Like a draft stallion trying to mount a pony. In every way, he was just too fucking big.

He spat in his hand and brought it to his cock, ran his palm up and down his shaft with sickly wet strokes. The combination of his palm and your squeezing ass was fucking delicious.

He had great stamina but fuck if it didn't feel like you were milking him.

He let go long enough to smack your ass. It almost finished him. You clenched around him so hard it felt like his tip was getting fucking crushed.

"Shiiiit, you're the best hole I've ever had. Can't wait 'til I can go all the way."

You whined, pitiful as snared prey. There were words there, though they were too slurred to make out. Something about Daddy and please and stop. He ignored you.

He pushed in a little deeper and watched your face scrunching up. So helpless, so fucking caught. That was what did it. The knowledge that he could do this to you at any point and you'd be helpless to stop it.

He came inside you, snarling through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to bruise. You'd notice the marks in the morning and chalk it up to just being clumsy. But he'd know. He'd see the bruises peeking out from the hem of your shorts and his cock would twitch just a little at the memory of leaving them.

His cock pulsed. Shot strings of spunk deep inside you. You could feel it. Hot, too hot. Gross. Make it stop. Get it out.

He pulled out with a wet pop. His cum drooled down and he took a minute to work it back into you with his finger. Your hole was gaping just a little and it made his balls pulse. If he had the time...

"A real fucking mess. And on my good sheets too. You're a terrible guest."

He mopped up whatever cum remained with a balled up piece of martial that he pulled from his pocket. Even in you stupor, you recognised it as your missing underwear.

"Terrible guest, but the perks of having you around are pretty fucking sweet."

He dropped your knees back to the mattress, pulled your pants back into place and roughly yanked the duvet over you. He grabbed your jaw and smiled at the lost, drowsy look in your half open eyes.

"Got a big day tomorrow. Gonna wake up and find your whole house was flooded. Ruined. Gonna have nowhere to stay but with me."

He sounded smug. It made your guts twist.

Outside, the night grew quiet. A predator was hunting and most prey knew better than to catch its attention.

"I made sure of it. All your family and friends in the city are away from home. There's no one around to help you out..."

He tightened his grip just enough to watch the fear start dancing in your eyes.

"No one...except me."

He let you go and smiled that same warm, comforting smile from that afternoon.

"Dumb little thing. Got no clue how your water mains work, do you? Got no idea how easy they are to sabotage."

He tutted. "Got me so damn busy. I'm gonna have to run to your place, fuck shit up and be back here before you wake up for real."

He traced his index finger over your lips and left behind a sticky coating of spunk. You'd wake up tasting salt again, with no memory of why.

"But it's fine. I forgive you. After today we'll have plenty of time together. Rest of our lives in fact. So just sleep tight and forget what you think you've dreamed."

There are perks to living in the middle nowhere. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

There are perks, but unfortunately for you, your neighbour isn't one of them.

[moonlightwritingf1]

The fire between us | LN4

☃️ summary ━━━━━━━ Trapped in a Swiss cabin during a snowstorm, Lando and Y/N, who’ve been friends for less than a year, are left alone. As they play strip poker, hidden feelings surface, leading to a playful, intimate night where their connection deepens.

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

☃️ word count ━━━━━━━ 7.4k

☃️ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

It was the week before Christmas, and the Swiss Alps had transformed into a winter wonderland. A luxurious cabin was nestled at the foot of the mountains, offering everything one could dream of—cozy fireplaces, panoramic views, and an atmosphere thick with the promise of festive memories. Lando had been the first to arrive. As the one who’d paid for the cabin and organized the trip, he had eagerly anticipated the getaway with their friend group. He loved skiing, but even more than that, he loved the idea of spending a few quiet days away from the hustle and bustle. More than anything, though, he was excited about being alone with her—Y/N.

From the moment they met less than a year ago through mutual friends, Lando had been captivated by her. She was different, making his heart race just a little faster whenever she was near. He tried to hide it—keeping his feelings buried beneath casual conversations and friendly smiles—but every time he saw her, his heart betrayed him. He couldn't stop thinking about her.

Despite his efforts to keep his feelings hidden beneath casual conversation and playful teasing, they simmered just below the surface, growing stronger each time they hung out.

But Y/N had no idea. At least, that’s what he thought. She treated him like a close friend—nothing more. They’d spent time together over the months, enjoying each other’s company, making memories, but it was always just... friendly. And Lando had become all too familiar with that painful distance—the fine line between friendship and something more that he had no idea how to cross.

That was until this trip.

When Y/N finally arrived, she was the second person to make it to the cabin. And just as she stepped out of her car, the snowstorm began. The storm had been forecasted, but it hit much harder than expected. Before long, the roads were impassable, and their friends were stuck on the other side of the mountain, unable to get to the cabin. Just like that, Lando and Y/N were alone together, stranded in the middle of nowhere, with only each other’s company to keep them entertained.

Y/N was still adjusting her coat, brushing the snowflakes from her hair as she walked inside, her cheeks flushed from the cold. Lando, who had been staring out the window with a faint smile, snapped out of his daze when she appeared in the doorway.

“Hey! It’s freezing out there,” she said, stomping her boots on the mat as she entered.

Lando couldn't help but grin, his heart skipping at the sight of her. “You're telling me. I wasn’t expecting this kind of snowstorm.” He glanced outside. The flakes were falling heavier now, swirling around in the night sky. “Looks like we’re snowed in for a while.”

Y/N laughed. “Great. I hope we’re stocked up on food. I’m not sure I can survive on just wine and Christmas cookies.”

Lando chuckled, holding the door open for her to come inside. "We've got plenty of food. We’re going to be fine. Don’t worry."

“And it looks like it’s just you and me for the next few days,” she said, her voice light but with a hint of something more—something he couldn’t quite place.

Lando smiled, trying to act nonchalant, but his pulse quickened. “I guess so. Should be fun,” he replied, glancing around the spacious cabin. The fire was already crackling in the living room, the tree twinkling with Christmas lights, and everything felt so cozy. But it was also... quiet. Too quiet. Just the two of them.

After they had settled in and exchanged pleasantries about the snowstorm, Y/N collapsed onto the couch, kicking off her boots and letting out a sigh of relief. “This place is amazing, Lando. I could live here.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Lando replied, smiling at her. “It’s the perfect place to get away.”

They exchanged a few casual words, laughing at some of the jokes their friends had sent through text. But as the night grew darker and the storm raged outside, they were left alone in the quiet of the cabin, with only the sound of the fire and the wind howling through the trees.

Y/N stretched out, glancing at Lando from across the room. “So, what now? We’ve got the whole place to ourselves. What should we do?”

Lando’s eyes twinkled with mischievous intent. “Well, we could play a game.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “A game? Like Monopoly or something?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, though his mind was already racing with possibilities. “Or something a little more... interesting.”

Her curiosity piqued, Y/N leaned forward. “What did you have in mind?”

Lando’s lips curved into a sly grin. “How about strip poker?”

Y/N blinked, clearly taken aback. “Strip poker? Really?”

Lando chuckled, knowing how she might react. He’d teased her with ideas like this before, but never seriously. Tonight, however, it felt like the perfect opportunity to let the playful tension between them simmer into something more. “What? You scared?” he asked, his voice dipping into a low, teasing tone.

She crossed her arms over her chest, clearly thinking it over. “Scared? Of you? Please.” Y/N shot him a teasing grin of her own. “You sure you want to risk it?”

“I’m not scared. Are you?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Fine. Let’s do it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Lando grinned, gathering the cards. He wasn’t entirely sure how they got to this point, but there was no turning back now. He could already feel the playful, flirty energy between them, and it only made him want to tease her more. The game started innocently enough. They each took turns dealing the cards, laughing as they made their moves. At first, it felt just like any other game—light, easy, and full of jokes.

But as they started shedding clothes, something shifted. Lando couldn’t help but notice how Y/N’s eyes lingered on him just a little too long, how her lips curled into a teasing smile whenever he lost a round. And she was good—really good. Each time she won a hand, she would make a show of pulling off a layer of clothing, the way her body moved making Lando’s pulse spike in ways he didn’t want to acknowledge.

When Y/N was down to her tank top and leggings, she shot him a look. “Looks like I’m winning, Lando. Are you sure you’re alright with that?”

Lando could barely keep his eyes off of her. The way she smiled, the way she moved... everything about her made his heart race. “I’m just getting warmed up,” he said, trying to sound casual. “You should be worried.”

“Worried?” She let out a soft, melodic laugh, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I’m not the one losing clothes here.”

Lando grinned, trying to shake off the growing heat that he felt every time she looked at him. He could tell by the way she kept glancing at him that she was feeling the tension too. This wasn’t just a game anymore—it had become something else, something more dangerous, and he couldn’t seem to pull back. “It’s not over yet,” he said, his voice low.

Y/N shrugged, her lips curling up into a smile. “I’m not sure you can come back from this, but we’ll see.”

Finally, it was down to the last round. Both of them were now only in their underwear, the cards spread out between them on the floor. The fire crackled in the background, the only sound in the room except for their breathing.

“So,” Y/N said, her voice low, “you ready to lose?”

Lando swallowed hard. “Not yet,” he replied, trying to sound confident, though his mind was racing. The last layer of clothing between them felt like a barrier he couldn’t cross, but the tension was thick enough to slice with a knife.

They played their final hands, both of them taking risks, both of them desperately trying not to give in. And in the end, it was Y/N who won. She threw down her cards with a laugh, eyes sparkling.

“Well, looks like you’re the one who’s going to lose this time,” she said smugly, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

Lando stared at her, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “I’m just getting started.” Without another word, he closed the gap between them, pulling her into a kiss that was nothing like the playful teasing they had shared moments before. This kiss was slow, deliberate, filled with the intensity of everything that had been building up between them for months.

Y/N froze for a second, surprised by the suddenness of it, but then she melted into him, her hands cupping his face as she kissed him back with equal fervor. The heat from the fire seemed to intensify as they deepened the kiss, their bodies pressed close together, the game now forgotten.

When they finally pulled apart, their faces flushed with more than just the warmth of the fire, Lando whispered, “I think I lost... but in the best possible way.”

Y/N’s smile softened as she traced the line of his jaw with her finger. “I think we both won,” she said quietly.

They decided to keep playing, though the silence between them was heavy, thick with unspoken words and unfinished moments. Lando could feel it in the way Y/N’s breath hitched slightly when he leaned closer, and in the way her fingers trembled just enough to be noticeable as she reached for another card.

This is it, he thought, his pulse quickening. One more round. One more chance to either lose everything or finally claim what he’d been wanting for so long.

“Your move,” Y/N said, her voice low but steady, her eyes locked on his. Her lips curved into a faint smile, teasing but laced with something deeper—something that sent a shiver down his spine.

Lando swallowed hard, his fingers brushing against the edge of the deck. He could feel the heat radiating off her, even from across the makeshift table they’d created on the floor. Her bra hugged her skin, the straps resting delicately on her shoulders, drawing his attention and making it impossible to focus on anything else. His own boxers felt like a damn prison at this point, constricting every thought and movement.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, her voice light but pointed.

He blinked, caught off guard, and forced a laugh. “Am I?”

Y/N tilted her head, her grin widening. “A little. You might want to focus. If you lose again, there won’t be much left to look at.”

Her words were playful, but there was an edge to them, a challenge that made his chest tighten. Focus, Lando, he told himself. But no matter how hard he tried, his gaze kept drifting back to her. To the way her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulder, the way her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the fire and whatever tension was simmering between them.

“I’m focused,” he said, trying to sound confident even though his heart was pounding. “Just... taking my time.”

“Mmhmm,” she replied, clearly unconvinced. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the ground, and the movement drew his attention to the way her bra shifted, revealing just a hint of skin.

God, he thought, how is she doing this to me?

He picked up his cards, his fingers trembling slightly as he flipped them over. Two pairs. Not bad, but not great. He glanced at Y/N’s hand, trying to gauge her expression, but she was too good. Her face was calm, composed, her eyes still locked on his with that same spark of mischief.

“Well?” she asked after a beat of tense silence. “Are you going to fold, or are you in this to the end?”

Lando hesitated, his mind racing. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, the knowledge that this wasn’t just a game anymore. It was something more, something that had been building between them for months. And now, here they were, alone in this cabin, stripped down to the bare minimum, their bodies close enough to touch.

If I fold, he thought, then it’s over. And if I don’t...

He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed.

“I’m in,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by his decision. “Alright then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She laid down her cards, and Lando’s stomach dropped. Three jacks. He couldn’t believe it. She’d beaten him again.

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You’re good at this.”

Y/N laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his chest ache. “Told you you should’ve folded.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, forcing a grin. “Guess I’ll have to live with the consequences.”

He started to move, reaching for the waistband of his boxers, but Y/N stopped him with a single word.

“Wait.”

Lando froze, his hand hovering above his hips. “What?”

Y/N met his gaze, her eyes dark with something he couldn’t quite place. “Let’s make this interesting.”

His pulse quickened. “Interesting how?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she pushed herself up onto her knees, bridging the gap between them until she was close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin.

“Take them off,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “But not yet. Just... stay like that.”

Lando’s throat went dry. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, in his chest, everywhere. “Like what?”

Y/N’s gaze flicked downward, lingering for a moment before returning to his face. “Tease me first. Make me wait.”

The request hung in the air between them, heavy and charged. Lando could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, the blood rushing through his veins. He wanted to protest, to say something clever or sarcastic, but the way she was looking at him—like she was daring him, testing him—made it impossible to think of anything else.

“You’re serious?” he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “Very.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The fire crackled softly behind them, the storm outside howling louder now, as if urging them to act. Lando could feel the weight of her gaze, the way it seemed to pierce through him, stripping away any pretense of control.

And then, without thinking, he reached for the hem of his boxers, tugging it upward just enough to reveal the barest hint of skin.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as she watched him. “More,” she said, her voice low and husky.

Lando swallowed hard, his fingers trembling as he pulled the fabric up another inch. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, in his chest, everywhere. “Is this what you wanted?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. Instead, she leaned closer, her fingers brushing against his thigh. “Almost,” she said, her voice a sultry purr. “But not quite.”

Lando’s breath caught in his throat. He could feel the heat of her hand on his skin, the sensation sending sparks of electricity coursing through his body. “What do you want, Y/N?” he asked, his voice rough with need.

She smiled, slow and deliberate, her eyes locking on his. “Show me,” she said simply. “Show me how much you want this.”

Lando’s fingers brushed against the waistband of his boxers, his breath hitching as he hesitated for just a moment. His eyes remained locked on Y/N’s, her gaze steady and unyielding, daring him to go further. The firelight danced across her face, casting shadows that made her look even more alluring, more demanding. He couldn’t resist—not anymore.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he slid his boxers down, revealing himself completely to her. The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with an electric tension that made his skin prickle. He was fully exposed now, every inch of him on display, and yet it didn’t feel humiliating or uncomfortable. Instead, it felt... thrilling. Dangerous.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took in the sight of him, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She was clearly caught off guard, though whether by surprise or arousal, Lando couldn’t tell. What he did know, though, was that her reaction only fueled his own desire. He was playing with fire, and he wasn’t about to back down.

“Satisfied?” he asked, his voice low and rough, practically dripping with challenge. The corner of his mouth lifted into a sly grin as he watched her squirm under his gaze.

Y/N blinked, shaking her head as if to clear it. “I... I don’t think so,” she stammered, her voice uncharacteristically breathless. She leaned back on her hands, her legs crossed at the ankles, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. But the way her chest rose and fell rapidly, the way her eyes kept darting to him and then away, gave her away.

Lando chuckled softly, leaning forward just enough to shift the dynamic between them. “Come on, Y/N,” he said, his tone teasing. “You can’t expect me to believe you’re not impressed.”

She rolled her eyes, though the effect was ruined by the flush that spread across her neck. “Impressed? By what? Your poker skills? Because those definitely left something to be desired.”

He smirked, knowing she was just trying to play it cool. “Oh, I see. So you’re still mad that I lost. Fine. Maybe we should play another round. Even the odds.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, her expression shifting from playful to wary in an instant. “Another round? Really? You’re not exactly... dressed for the occasion.”

Lando leaned back, stretching casually, his movements slow and deliberate. “Who says I need clothes to play? Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s not like you’re shy about winning.”

Her breath caught again, and this time she didn’t try to hide it. The heat in the room had reached an almost unbearable level, and it wasn’t just from the fire. With only her underwear on, every subtle movement was impossible to ignore. Lando’s eyes flicked to the way her pulse jumped at the base of her throat, the way her legs shifted restlessly against the floor as if she was trying to maintain control. She was fighting it, resisting the pull between them, but he could see the cracks forming in her resolve. And honestly? He loved watching her struggle.

“Alright,” she said finally, her voice trembling just enough to betray her nerves. “But this is your last chance. Don’t blame me if you lose everything.”

“Don’t worry,” Lando replied, his grin widening. “I’m used to betting big.”

They shuffled the cards once more, their fingers brushing more often than necessary. Each touch sent a jolt of anticipation through Lando, making him wonder if Y/N was feeling it too. The game began, but it was hard to focus with the way she kept stealing glances at him, her eyes lingering just a little too long on places they shouldn’t.

The first few rounds were tense, both of them holding their cards close to their chests. Lando tried to keep his confidence up, but the way Y/N’s breathing quickened with each passing moment made it difficult. She was getting flustered, clearly struggling to concentrate, and it only made him tease her more.

“You alright over there?” he asked after a particularly long pause, his voice dripping with mock concern. “Need a break? A glass of water, maybe?”

Y/N glared at him, though the effect was softened by the blush spreading across her cheeks. “I’m fine,” she snapped, though her voice wavered slightly. “Just... focusing.”

Lando chuckled, leaning closer until their knees nearly touched. “Focusing on what? The rules of the game, or... other things?”

She swallowed hard, her eyes flickering to his before darting away. “Maybe both,” she admitted quietly, her cheeks burning brighter.

It was the admission Lando had been waiting for. Her honesty, her vulnerability, it was all he needed to see that she was just as affected by this as he was. And with that realization, his confidence surged.

“Well, then,” he said, his voice smooth and assured. “Why don’t we make it a little more interesting?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her bravado returning in full force. “Oh? And how do you propose we do that?”

Lando leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “How about... a forfeit? For every round you win, I have to do whatever you say. And for every round I win...” He paused, giving her a moment to process. “You have to do whatever I say.”

Her breath caught again, and this time she didn’t try to hide it. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desire. She knew this was dangerous territory, but the way Lando’s eyes burned with mischief and intent was impossible to ignore.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Lando grinned, his heart racing as he dealt the next hand. This was it. This was where the real game began.

The cards were shuffled again, the deck slick between their fingers as they settled into another round. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering shadows on the walls of the cabin. The storm outside raged on, but inside, it was warm and intimate, the air thick with unspoken promises.

Lando leaned back slightly, his eyes fixed on Y/N. “Your move,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. There was a spark in his gaze that made her stomach flutter—a mix of challenge and something deeper she couldn’t quite name.

Y/N met his stare, her lips curling into a small smile. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her, the stakes higher than ever before. Every movement, every word, seemed to carry more meaning than it should. She shifted slightly, her legs brushing against his under the makeshift poker table, and Lando’s breath hitched just barely.

She played her cards carefully, her mind working overtime to anticipate his moves. But even as she focused on the game, she couldn’t ignore the way his presence seemed to fill the room. His knee grazed hers again, deliberately this time, and she shivered despite herself.

“Bold play,” Lando murmured as he laid down his hand, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “But I think I’ve got you beat.”

Y/N glanced at his cards, her heart sinking slightly as she realized he was right. She bit her lip, trying to hide her disappointment, but Lando was already leaning forward, his expression teasing yet somehow serious.

“Looks like you owe me,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. She knew whatever he had in mind wouldn’t be simple, and part of her reveled in the idea of giving him control.

Lando paused for a moment, as if weighing his options. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingertips lingering against her cheek. “Take off your bra,” he said simply, his tone light but his eyes burning with intent.

Y/N froze for a second, her breath catching in her throat. The request was direct, unexpected, and yet… not entirely unwelcome. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a confidence she wasn’t sure she truly felt.

“That all?” she teased, her voice cool despite the way her pulse quickened.

Lando chuckled, low and deep, the sound sending a thrill through her. “For now,” he replied, his eyes never leaving hers. He was enjoying this, she realized—enjoying the way she fought to maintain her composure, the way she challenged him even as she gave in.

Y/N hesitated for just a moment longer, then reached behind her back. The clasp of her bra came undone easily, and she slid the straps down her arms, letting the fabric pool at her waist. She kept her posture relaxed, her shoulders straight, refusing to let him see how much his attention affected her.

Lando’s gaze dropped to her chest, his expression softening for a moment before he forced himself to meet her eyes again. “Gorgeous,” he said quietly, his voice almost reverent.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Y/N replied, her tone light as she tried to keep things playful. But there was an edge to her words, a hint of something raw and unspoken that made Lando’s breath hitch.

They sat like that for a moment, the tension between them palpable, the room feeling smaller with each passing second. Then Lando spoke again, his voice low and rough. “Another round?”

Y/N nodded, her heart racing as she picked up the cards. This time, there was no mistaking the electricity between them, no pretending that this was just a game. It was something more, something dangerous and thrilling, and she was all in.

The next few rounds passed in a blur. They teased each other mercilessly, their banter sharpening with every hand. But there was an underlying current of desire now, an awareness of how close they were, how little separated them except for the thin layer of her underwear and the rules they’d set.

Lando won again, his grin widening as he laid down his cards. “Looks like I get to collect my prize,” he said, his voice dripping with mischief.

Y/N’s breath caught as she realized what that meant. “And what exactly is your prize?” she asked, her voice steady despite the heat pooling in her lower belly.

Lando leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “I want to taste you.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and charged with meaning. Y/N felt her heartbeat accelerate, her skin tingling in response to his proximity. She should have said no, should have put a stop to this before it went any further. But the truth was, she didn’t want to. Not with him. Not when he looked at her like that, with such fierce intensity it stole her breath.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” she said finally, her voice trembling just slightly. She was playing with fire, she knew that, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Lando’s grin widened, and he slid his hand along her thigh, his touch warm and insistent. “I want to make you come,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “with my tongue.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her entire body flooding with heat at his words. She could feel the flush spreading across her chest, her nipples tightening in response to his nearness. She wanted to say yes, wanted to give in to the hunger that had been building inside her since the moment they’d first kissed. But part of her hesitated, afraid of what it meant, afraid of how far this would go.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando didn’t answer with words. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, fleeting kiss. “Never been more sure of anything,” he murmured against her lips.

Then, without waiting for her reply, he stood and pulled her to her feet. In one swift motion, he guided her backward until she was sitting on the edge of the couch, her legs dangling over the side. He knelt in front of her, his hands resting on her thighs, his gaze locked on hers.

Y/N’s breath hitched as Lando’s hands slid up her thighs, his touch warm and deliberate. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared down at him. His eyes were intense, almost predatory, and the way he looked at her made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeated, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. “But if you don’t…”

If I don’t? Her mind raced, torn between the sudden rush of desire and the lingering caution that held her back. But then she met his gaze—those deep, dark eyes that seemed to see straight through her. There was no hesitation there, no doubt. Just pure, unfiltered need, and it was contagious.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Lando’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile, and then he was moving, his hands sliding beneath her thighs as he gently urged them apart. Y/N sucked in a sharp breath as he knelt lower, his face now level with her aching core. The firelight danced across his features, casting shadows that made him look both dangerous and irresistible.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration as his fingers grazed the edge of her underwear. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Y/N’s cheeks burned, but she couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through her at his words. His honesty was intoxicating, and it made her want to surrender completely. “Show me,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath. “Show me how much you want this.”

His answer was immediate. In one swift motion, he hooked his fingers under the elastic of her panties and pulled them aside, exposing her to the cool air again. Y/N gasped, her body tensing as his breath ghosted over her sensitive skin. Then, without warning, his mouth was on her, his tongue darting out to taste her.

“Oh!” The sound escaped her before she could stop it, a mix of surprise and pleasure that left her head spinning. Lando chuckled softly against her, the vibration sending another wave of sensation rippling through her. He teased her with his tongue, flicking and circling in lazy patterns that had her gripping the edge of the couch for support.

“Lando…” she moaned, her hips twitching as she tried to push herself closer to him. But he wasn’t done teasing her yet. His hands gripped her thighs tighter, holding her steady as he explored every inch of her with his mouth. His tongue delved deeper, curling and pressing in ways that made it impossible for her to think clearly.

Her breath came in short, jagged bursts, each one louder than the last. The fire crackled behind her, its warmth spreading through her body along with the overwhelming sensations Lando was stirring within her. He’s so good at this, she thought dimly, her mind fogging over with pleasure. So in control.

But just when she thought she might actually pass out from the intensity of it all, Lando changed his pace. Instead of the slow, deliberate movements that had been driving her wild, he began to move faster, his tongue darting in and out of her in a rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart. His teeth grazed lightly against her clit as he sucked, creating a new kind of friction that had her arching her back and crying out his name.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she chanted, her words incoherent as her orgasm built and built inside her. Lando didn’t let up, not for a second. If anything, he intensified his efforts, his fingers brushing against her folds as his mouth worked furiously. The dual stimulation was too much—too perfect—and within moments, she was shattered.

“LAN-DO!” Her scream filled the cabin as her hips bucked against his face, her entire body trembling with the force of her release. It felt like everything inside her was exploding, over and over, until she was nothing but a quivering mess. Lando rode out her climax with ease, his mouth never leaving her as he licked and kissed until every last bit of tension had drained from her body.

When she finally collapsed back onto the couch, her chest heaving and her legs still shaking, Lando pulled away slowly, his lips wet and his expression smug. “Better than winning at poker?” he asked with a grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Y/N glared at him, though her smile gave her away. “Don’t get cocky,” she panted, batting his hand away playfully.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, standing and towering over her. “Round one was just the beginning.”

Before she could respond, he grabbed her by the hips and lifted her onto his lap, positioning her so that she was straddling him. His erection pressed firmly against her core, already demanding attention, and Y/N couldn’t help but shudder at the sensation.

“Ready for round two?” he asked, his voice low and husky as he nipped at her earlobe.

Y/N’s response was instant. She ground her hips against him, relishing the way his breath hitched and his grip tightened on her waist. “Show me,” she whispered, her voice laced with challenge. “Show me what else you’ve got.”

Lando didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand on her back and the other guiding himself, he lined his length up with her entrance. Y/N braced herself, her heart racing as she felt the blunt pressure of his tip against her slick folds. Then, with a deep groan, he pushed forward, filling her in one smooth thrust.

“Fuck,” she gasped, throwing her head back as the fullness hit her all at once. It was overwhelming—his size, his strength, the way he claimed her so utterly. She’d never felt anything like it, and the realization only heightened her arousal.

“You feel so good,” Lando growled, his voice rough with need as he pulled back and thrust into her again. “God, Y/N, you’re so tight.”

She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he set a steady rhythm. Each stroke was deliberate, hitting all the right spots and sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her veins. The firelight flickered across their entwined bodies, casting a golden glow that made everything seem even more intimate.

“Harder,” she demanded, her voice breaking as she shifted her hips to meet his thrusts. “Please, Lando. Harder.”

He didn’t hesitate. With a growl of approval, he grabbed her hips and drove into her with renewed vigor. The slap of skin against skin echoed in the quiet cabin, mixing with their ragged breaths and the occasional moan that slipped past her lips. Y/N clung to him, her body writhing as she surrendered to the sensation.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she cried out, her voice rising with each thrust. Lando buried his face in the crook of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he fucked her with relentless determination. He was everywhere—his hands, his mouth, his cock—and it was too much. Too perfect.

“I’m going to come again,” she warned, her voice trembling as her orgasm began to build once more. “Lando, I’m—”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice a raw, primal demand. “Let go, Y/N. Let me feel you come around me.”

Those words were her undoing. With a cry that echoed through the cabin, she threw her head back and shattered around him. Her inner muscles clenched tightly around his cock as her orgasm tore through her, leaving her breathless and trembling.

Lando’s thrusts slowed as he watched her fall apart in his arms, his own release nearing. He buried his face in her neck, whispering sweet, frantic promises as he continued to move inside her. And then, with a final, desperate thrust, he came undone.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice strained as he spilled deep inside her. His whole body shuddered as he emptied himself into her, the sensation of being so intimately connected to her overwhelming.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies locked together as they caught their breath. Y/N pressed her forehead against his, her heart still racing as she tried to process everything that had just happened.

Lando and Y/N remained intertwined, their bodies still twitching with the aftershocks of their shared climax. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting a warm amber glow over them as they clung to each other, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between their lips.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were their heartbeats slowing to a steady rhythm and the occasional pop of a log in the fireplace. The storm outside seemed distant now, its fury muted by the cocoon of warmth and intimacy they’d created within the cabin.

Y/N shifted slightly, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across Lando’s back. Her skin was still flushed, her body languid with satisfaction, but her mind was racing. She couldn’t believe how deeply she had let herself go—how completely she had surrendered to him. And yet, it felt right. It felt inevitable.

What is this? she wondered, her thoughts a jumbled mess of emotions. What are we doing?

Lando pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes searching hers. His expression was soft, almost reverent, as if he were trying to drink in every detail of her face. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. “You okay?”

She nodded slowly, her lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah. Just... catching my breath.”

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek. “Same here.”

Their eyes held for a moment longer before Y/N broke the silence again. “You’re really bad at poker, you know that?” she teased, her tone light despite the heat still simmering between them.

Lando grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that playful way of his. “I thought I was pretty good at bluffing. Guess not.”

“You weren’t bluffing when you said you’d do anything to win, though,” she said, her voice dropping slightly as she remembered the intensity of his actions.

His grin faded, replaced by something far more serious. “No,” he admitted quietly. “I wasn’t.”

The air between them shifted, the playful tension giving way to something heavier. Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart racing as his words sank in. He wasn’t just talking about the game. He was talking about her.

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “You mean it?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” He shifted closer, his hand brushing her cheek with a tenderness that made her pulse quicken. His thumb traced her skin, his touch warm despite the chill lingering in the air. “You’re worth more than winning a game, Y/N. You’re worth everything.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding against her ribs. She wanted to say something—to tell him how much his words meant to her—but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a brief moment as his warmth enveloped her. For months, she’d ignored the flickers of possibility between them, convincing herself it was all in her head. But now, there was no hiding from it.

When she opened her eyes again, she found him watching her with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. “Lando,” she started, her voice trembling slightly.

But he cut her off with a kiss, soft and lingering, as if he were savoring the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing as they breathed each other in.

“Don’t overthink it,” he murmured, his forehead resting lightly against hers. His lips curved into a soft smile, the teasing edge of his usual grin still there, but gentler now. “Just… let it happen.”

And for once, she did. She closed the distance between them, leaning into the warmth of his touch and the quiet certainty in his eyes. When their lips met, it was soft, tentative, but it carried the weight of everything unsaid.

The fire crackled in the background, but all she could feel was him—his warmth, his presence, and the promise held in the quiet stillness of the cabin.

Lando shifted again, rolling onto his back but keeping her close. Y/N curled up beside him, resting her head on his chest as his arm wrapped around her, pulling her even tighter against him. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear was oddly comforting, grounding her in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

“So,” she said after a while, breaking the silence with a tone that was equal parts playful and curious. “What happens now?”

Lando chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said, lifting her head to look at him, “we can’t exactly keep playing strip poker. Not without clothes, anyway.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying her teasing. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean we’re out of games.”

Her eyebrow arched in question. “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

“How about truth or dare?” he suggested, his voice dripping with mischief.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Seriously? You want to play truth or dare? After all that?”

“Why not?” he countered, his grin widening. “It’s a classic. And who knows? Maybe we’ll learn something new about each other.”

She considered his proposal for a moment, her curiosity piqued. “Alright,” she said finally, sitting up slightly so she could look at him. “Let’s do it. But fair warning—I don’t hold back.”

“Neither do I,” he replied, his tone confident. “Your move.”

She bit her lip, thinking for a moment before deciding. “Truth.”

Lando’s grin turned sly. “Alright... what’s the last thing you Googled?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the simplicity of his question. “Really? That’s your big question?”

“Yep,” he said, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “Spill.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Fine. I Googled the best places to visit in Switzerland.”

“Huh,” he said, his expression thoughtful. “Planning a solo trip?”

“Maybe,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Or maybe I just wanted to see if there was anywhere else worth checking out while we’re here.”

Lando’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. “Well, if you’re looking for recommendations, I’m your guy.”

“Good to know,” she said, tilting her head as she studied him. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Dare.”

Her grin widened, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Alright... I dare you to kiss me until I forget my own name.”

Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening as he processed her challenge. Before he could respond, she slid her hand along his jaw, guiding his face toward hers. Her lips met his in a kiss that was slower, deeper than before—a kiss that left no room for doubt about how much she wanted him.

He groaned softly into her mouth, his hands gripping her waist as he deepened the kiss. Every movement, every touch, seemed deliberate, as if he were etching the memory of this moment into his very soul.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N’s cheeks were flushed, her breathing heavy as she looked up at him. “Okay,” she said breathlessly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think you win this round.”

Lando chuckled, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. “Careful,” he warned, his tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Good,” she said, her smile turning wicked. “Because I like it hot.”

Before he could respond, she kissed him again, her hands sliding down to his shoulders as she pressed herself closer to him. The fire roared behind them, the storm raged outside, but all that mattered was the connection they shared—a connection that was growing stronger with every passing moment.

They stayed like that for a while, lost in each other, the world beyond the cabin fading into obscurity. And as the night wore on, they continued to explore the depths of their desire, pushing boundaries and discovering new ways to bring each other pleasure.

It was a night unlike any other, a night that would stay with them long after the snow had melted and the fire had burned out. A night that marked the beginning of something extraordinary—something that neither of them could have predicted but that felt utterly, undeniably right.

[novaursa]

Valyrian Bride (Continuation)

Requests are closed!

- Summary: When your older brother, Jacaerys, promised you to Cregan to be his bride, the Lord Stark did not expect what he got - a trueborn dragon. 

- Pairing: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Previous part: 1

- Next part: Final Chapter

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

Cregan Stark walked with the dragon princess by his side, feeling the eyes of his men and household upon them. There was a sense of pride that welled up inside him as they entered Winterfell’s stone halls. Not pride in himself, but in the fact that this fierce, regal woman—this vision of Old Valyria—was now his betrothed. It was no small thing to command the presence of such a creature, both her and the dragon she rode. The weight of that responsibility settled on his shoulders, but rather than burden him, it gave him a sense of purpose.

As they crossed the threshold into the Great Hall, the murmurs of those gathered inside came to a halt. Servants, bannermen, and even the most hardened of his household retainers stared openly. They weren’t accustomed to such grandeur, and even in a land where strength was admired, there was something otherworldly about the princess. Her silver-gold hair, the grace of her movements, and the quiet power that seemed to radiate from her drew their eyes like moths to flame.

The warmth of the hearthfire flickered against the cold stone walls, but in the presence of the dragon princess, it felt as though the heat came from her. She walked beside Cregan with an ease that belied her strength, her violet eyes scanning the hall as if she were already its lady, its queen.

Cregan couldn’t help but glance at her from the corner of his eye, watching as she moved like liquid fire, confident and unyielding. He could see the tension in the shoulders of his bannermen, the uncertainty in the eyes of the women who served the household. They were all taken aback, and Cregan couldn’t blame them. He had lived his whole life without seeing anyone like her, and he knew, without doubt, that no one here had ever stood before the true blood of Old Valyria until now.

She was a flame in the middle of a winter storm, a vivid contrast to the world of stone and snow that surrounded her.

“I trust the halls of Winterfell meet your expectations, my lady?” Cregan asked, his voice low but carrying in the stillness of the hall. He wanted to draw her into conversation, not only to ease his own nerves but to learn more of this woman who would soon be his wife.

She turned her gaze to him, a small smile curling on her lips, though it was hard to read the full depth of her thoughts. “It is as grand as the tales say, Lord Stark. A stronghold of honor and tradition.”

Her voice was steady, yet it held an edge to it, as if there was always something more behind her words. It was as though she was measuring everything, assessing him, the people around her, and the place she would soon call home.

“I trust it will serve as more than just a stronghold for you, my lady,” Cregan replied, his eyes meeting hers directly, a subtle challenge of his own. “Winterfell is now your home, and you are its future lady.”

The princess didn’t miss a beat. “Yes, Winterfell will be my home, but I have a home in the sky as well. I belong to both land and air, Lord Stark. Do not forget that.” There was a softness to her words, but it was clear. She may belong to the North by marriage, but her heart would always be tied to the skies, to her dragon.

Cregan inclined his head in acknowledgment. "I doubt anyone will forget, least of all after the sight of Vaetrix in our skies," he said, and then added, more softly, "She is a magnificent creature."

The princess's expression shifted slightly, pride mingled with affection as she spoke of her dragon. “Vaetrix is the daughter of Meleys, the Red Queen herself. Her lineage is one of fire and might. She carries the blood of dragons who have seen empires rise and fall, just as I do.”

Cregan’s brows raised slightly at the mention of Meleys. He had heard of the Red Queen, the swift and powerful dragon that had once belonged to Princess Rhaenys. Her reputation was legendary. To think that Vaetrix was her offspring made the connection between the princess and her dragon even more profound. "The Red Queen," Cregan murmured, nodding thoughtfully. "Your bond with her must be strong, then. I imagine not just any rider could command such a lineage."

Her eyes gleamed in response, as if the conversation about Vaetrix sparked something deeper within her. "A dragon and their rider are bound by more than blood, Lord Stark. We share a soul, a heart. Vaetrix and I have flown together since I was a girl. She is my closest companion, my fiercest ally."

There was a tenderness in her tone now, something almost protective. It made Cregan understand, even more clearly, the depth of the bond between her and the dragon. In a way, it reminded him of the wolves of his house—loyal, fierce, and bound by an unspoken connection. But this bond was greater, stronger, and far more dangerous. He respected it, even admired it.

“Then she will be an ally to the North as well,” Cregan said, his voice filled with conviction. "As you will be."

The princess turned her eyes back to him, her gaze sharp and knowing. "The North has been promised my fire, my lord. And I keep my promises."

Her words were more than just a vow—they were a reminder of the power she wielded, the power she had been born with. Cregan nodded in response, feeling a strange comfort in that certainty. He knew, without question, that she was someone who would fight with all her strength, for her family, her dragon, and soon, for the North.

They continued walking, Cregan leading her deeper into Winterfell’s great halls, where more of his household waited in silent anticipation. Every eye was upon them as they passed, but the princess seemed unbothered by the attention, as if she had long since grown used to the weight of expectation. Cregan noticed the way people parted in her presence, not out of fear, but out of reverence. She was the embodiment of fire, and all knew they were in the presence of something greater than themselves.

As they reached the heart of Winterfell, Cregan paused, turning to face her fully. “There will be a feast tonight in your honor. A celebration of our alliance.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “It will be modest compared to what you may be accustomed to, but we take pride in what the North can offer.”

The princess’s gaze softened slightly, a hint of warmth in her eyes. “The North has already offered me more than I expected. I look forward to seeing its hospitality, Lord Stark.”

There was no mockery in her voice, no hint of the condescension he might have expected from someone raised in the splendor of court life. Instead, there was a genuine respect, a willingness to embrace the new life she was entering. Cregan nodded, feeling that strange mix of pride and anticipation once more.

As the evening drew near, Cregan knew the feast would be only the beginning. He had secured an alliance, but in the dragon princess, he had gained something far more—a partner of equal strength, whose fire would one day burn alongside his own.

The Great Hall of Winterfell was alive with the low hum of voices as the feast unfolded, the hearths were burning high to accommodate a dragon princess in it. Platters of roasted meats and winter greens filled the long tables, while horns of ale and wine passed freely from hand to hand. The air was thick with the scent of food and the crackle of the great fires, but despite the bustle of the hall, all eyes kept drifting toward the high table, where Lord Cregan Stark and his betrothed sat in full view of his bannermen, retainers, and household.

Cregan himself sat straighter than usual, though his posture seemed almost relaxed, as if he were entirely at ease in this moment. His eyes often flicked to the princess seated beside him, watching her as she navigated the curious gazes of the Northmen with the same grace she had displayed all day. There was something undeniably striking about her here, amidst the rustic grandeur of Winterfell’s Great Hall—her silver-gold hair gleaming in the firelight, her violet eyes calm yet ever watchful.

When the time came for toasts, the hall fell into a deep silence as Cregan stood, his horn of ale in hand. The attention of every man, woman, and servant shifted to him, their lord. His voice, strong and sure, carried through the hall.

“Tonight,” he began, “we honor more than just a union between two houses. We honor the blood of dragons and the fire that has joined with the winter.” He paused, his gaze sweeping the room before landing on the princess beside him. “The daughter of Princess Rhaenyra, the only daughter of House Targaryen, has come to the North. She is now our guest, and soon, she will be my wife.”

A murmur of approval rippled through the crowd, but it was tempered by the awe that still hung in the air. Many had never seen a woman like her, let alone one of royal Valyrian descent. To them, she was more legend than flesh and blood.

Cregan raised his horn higher, his eyes never leaving hers. “To the Lady of Fire,” he said, his voice full of pride. “To the daughter of Rhaenyra!”

The hall erupted in cheers, the echo of voices bouncing off the ancient stone walls. Horns were raised, clashing together in raucous celebration as the Northmen embraced their lord’s words. And yet, even amidst the noise, Cregan saw the way his men stole glances at the princess, admiration clear in their eyes.

The princess raised her own horn in response, a subtle smile playing on her lips as she inclined her head toward Cregan. "To the North," she said, her voice soft but carrying through the hall with a clarity that commanded attention. "And to the strength of its people."

The words were simple, but they carried weight. The hall seemed to settle after that, the conversations resuming with renewed vigor as the feast carried on. Yet Cregan’s focus remained fixed on her.

As the noise of the hall filled the space around them, Cregan leaned slightly toward her, his voice low so that their conversation would remain private. “You’ve impressed them already,” he remarked, his eyes glinting with a rare hint of amusement. “It takes much to win the respect of Northmen, but I see it in their eyes.”

The princess turned to him, her violet gaze meeting his with a certain calm, but there was a flicker of curiosity there too. “I hadn’t expected to win their respect so soon,” she said, her tone thoughtful. “But I do not think it is me they respect so much as the idea of the alliance—of what we represent.”

Cregan considered her words, his brow furrowing slightly as he mulled them over. “Perhaps,” he allowed, “but it’s more than just an alliance. They see you, a dragon’s daughter, and they understand the power that you carry. You’re no simple marriage prize.”

Her lips curved upward, just a fraction. “Is that how you see me, Cregan Stark? A symbol of power?”

He chuckled softly, the sound low in his throat. “I see you as many things, princess. Power is just one of them.”

Her smile grew more visible now, and there was something lighter in her expression, as if she were pleased by his words, even if she did not show it openly. “And what else do you see, my lord?”

Cregan leaned in just a fraction more, his voice dropping. “I see a woman with a mind as sharp as the blade she wears. I see a rider whose bond with her dragon makes her stronger than any queen. And,” his eyes softened, the faintest glimmer of admiration in them, “I see someone who will stand beside me, not behind me.”

She studied him for a moment, as if weighing the truth of his words, and then nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Good,” she said, her tone firm but carrying an edge of warmth. “Because I have no intention of standing behind anyone.”

Cregan allowed himself a smile then, something rare and unguarded. It felt easy, natural in her presence, something he hadn’t anticipated. She wasn’t just a symbol of fire and dragons—she was alive, filled with strength and grace in equal measure, and with each passing moment, Cregan found himself looking forward to what the future might bring with her at his side.

For the rest of the evening, Cregan’s mood remained light, his smiles more frequent than anyone could remember seeing before. The hall, filled with food, laughter, and music, felt brighter somehow, as if the fire she had brought with her from the skies had seeped into Winterfell itself. There was a warmth there that was new, a change carried on dragon’s wings.

Years later, when scholars and storytellers recalled that night, they would write about how Lord Cregan Stark, known for his stoic nature, had smiled more during that feast than any had seen before, save for two other occasions—on his wedding day, and when the first child of the Dragon Princess was born in the cold halls of Winterfell. But for now, the legend was only beginning.

As the feast wore on, Cregan turned to her again, unable to resist asking, “Do you think Vaetrix feels at ease here in the cold North? It’s far from the warmth of Dragonstone.”

She tilted her head, her silver-gold hair catching the firelight once more. “Vaetrix is not concerned with warmth or cold,” she replied. “She is her mother’s daughter, bred for strength and flight, and the North’s cold will not trouble her. Besides,” her smile grew, more playful this time, “she knows I will not be far from her.”

Cregan nodded. “She is a creature of legend, like her rider,” he said softly.

The princess turned her eyes to him, the faintest flush of warmth in her cheeks. For a moment, the fire of her Valyrian blood met the unyielding strength of the North in Cregan’s gaze, and in that shared moment, both knew their bond would be one of legend.

The fire had come to Winterfell, and it would burn for generations to come.

[scribbledghost]

Safe and Sound

Pairing: inhuman!polyvessels x reader

Rating: T

Word count: 1,290

Summary: You spend a quiet winter day curled up in bed with the four vessels.

Notes: We're getting a ton of snow where I am right now and I just really wanted something soft and cozy so I wrote it. Tons of fluff (gets slightly suggestive in the middle but doesn't go anywhere), many kisses, and probably lethal amounts of cheese. I regret nothing.

The world outside the manor is quiet, a thick blanket of snow covering everything in sight. The sun has long since risen, but life has yet to return to the landscape.

Meanwhile, inside the sprawling place you call home, warmth and a gentle silence permeate the atmosphere.

There are many fireplaces scattered around the structure, and the fact they always seem to be well-kept despite little effort on anyone's part makes you think it may be the house itself keeping the blazes stoked and roaring. Of course, it may also be through some as-yet-undiscussed power of one of your housemates, but you have yet to ask properly.

The four demi-humans you live with have different needs than you do, but they have taken great care to ensure yours are always met. You aren't even sure if they can feel heat or cold, and yet your home is always the perfect temperature for you. Today is no different.

Of course, having all five of you curled up together in one massive bed certainly helps keep you warm.

It's not at all unusual for multiple people to end up in one bed. All of you have a habit of stumbling out of your rooms and towards another when the night becomes too dark and quiet. In fact, it's more common for at least two or three people to be in one bed than it is for all of you to sleep separately.

The perks of having four partners all connected by varying degrees of telepathic communication, you suppose.

"Are you comfortable, my heart?"

Vessel's dulcet tone cuts through the quiet, barely intelligible over III's snoring and the crackling of the fireplace across the room.

You turn your head slightly to nudge your nose against his, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Yes I am. Are you?"

Vessel only hums softly in response, his six eyes softening as he meets your gaze.

The rest of the vessels are still asleep around you. II is at your side opposite of Vessel, one arm slung over your middle while his face is buried in your neck, his even breaths fanning across your skin. IV is curled into Vessel's back, quiet grumbles emanating from him as he shifts. III, meanwhile, is sprawled across all of you, his head on your chest and his limbs stretched.

"All of my boys here in the same place, warm and safe," you muse. "I always feel better when we're all together."

Vessel hums softly again, one of his hands coming to rest atop III's to absentmindedly play with his hair.

"I understand," he says. "There is a certain sense of security knowing your loved ones are all present."

Suddenly, a particularly loud snort from III breaks the tranquility, and he jolts awake.

"You okay?" you ask. III shifts, turning his head to give you a lopsided, tired grin.

"Hiya, love," he says, voice thick with sleep. Your head tilts up, III's nose nudging it upward so he can nibble at the skin just below your chin. His extended canine teeth sting just slightly, but none of his movements are firm enough to draw blood.

You know this move. And you know where it leads.

"Mm, easy, love. Too tired for that," you say gently.

However, being firm is difficult when Vessel is also alternating between kissing your temple and nipping at your earlobe.

"Don't have to do anything, beloved," Vessel all but croons. "Just lie back and let the four of us do the work."

"I think II and IV might have a problem with that, seeing as they're still asleep," you murmur.

"They'll live," III says, his tongue now laving against your throat.

"I'm serious, quit it!" you whisper loudly with a laugh. "I'm comfortable!"

The pair cease their assault, a soft chuckle emanating from them both. Quick kisses are places on your cheek and lips, with III nuzzling his head against your chest once again. You're sure it's only a matter of time before he's asleep once more.

"You three are too loud."

This time, it's II's low voice rumbling against you. You know the faux-grumpiness is purely in jest, but you indulge him anyway.

"I'm sorry, my dear," you say, tilting your head to rest your cheek against him.

"Someone kiss me and I may consider forgiveness," he teases.

Your lips land on his first, but they're quickly followed by III's.

"Surely we've earned mercy now, hm?" you tease. "Two kisses for II?"

"Don't push it."

You and III both laugh softly as II squeezes you tighter, readjusting himself as he buries his face in your neck.

You turn to see Vessel looking at the three of you, pure softness and affection in his eyes. The sight of IV's arm slung across Vessel's waist draws your attention.

"I'm surprised he hasn't woken up yet," you muse.

Vessel gives you a look that you can't read before he reaches for IV's hand, gently bringing the latter man's knuckles to his lips.

However, it appears IV was not as asleep as you had thought. Before Vessel can react, IV uses the hand at Vessel's lips to grab him by the jaw and turn his head. One more quick shift, and IV has him in an almost bruising kiss.

It leads nowhere, and is more an admonishment for waking IV than anything else, but you still watch as IV leaves Vessel with a slightly dazed look when he pulls away.

Despite being rough with Vessel, IV is nothing but gentle with you, reaching for your hand to bring it to his lips.

"Sleep well, dove?" he asks, his voice deep with disuse.

"Sure did, thanks for askin'," III replies, his voice muffled against your shirt.

"Wasn't talkin' to you," IV deadpans, reaching over to tug at one of III's ears.

"Should've - ow! - should've been more specific then," III teases.

After a bit more lighthearted bickering between the vessels, the atmosphere returns to a soft silence. However, all attention shifts to you when you shiver slightly.

"Are you cold, my heart?" Vessel asks.

"Just a little," you admit. You're not quite sure how the chill has managed to find you beneath the furs that adorn the massive bed and the warmth of the vessels around you (or, in III's case, sprawled atop you), but it has.

III makes a move to get up and stoke the fire, but Vessel stops him with a gentle hand.

It's not terribly often that you witness Vessel communing with the manor itself - the action tends to drain him - but it's always a marvel when you do.

A soft blue glow encompasses his eyes as his arm reaches towards the fireplace. A low hum sounds in your mind, like distantly muffled words. You wonder if the others hear something more distinct.

You can tell Vessel is straining, a slight tremble visible in his hand. Thankfully, the connection isn't terribly drawn-out, and with a whooshing sound, the fireplace roars brighter.

Vessel's eyes return to normal, and his arm and body sag back onto the mattress.

"Didn't have to do that," III mutters. "I would've gotten up."

"I know," Vessel reassures him, giving him a soft smile.

You don't need a telepathic mental connection to tell that Vessel is ready for rest once again. Reaching for him, you manage to rearrange him so his head is tucked against your shoulder.

"Rest," you command softly. He doesn't argue, and neither do the others. II curls back into your side, III is already softly snoring against your chest, and IV's breaths even out as he holds your hand.

You drift back to dreams nestled amongst the vessels, the harsh world outside the manor unable to disturb the peace found within.

[bonelyheartsclub]

♡ Papyrus - Valentine's One-Shot ♡

Written by @/duskyskye

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

 A cloudy, blustery day right in the middle of one of the coldest months of the year. A thick blanket of grey clouds covered the sky, and the ground was equally covered in a layer of thick, white snow. Were you not dressed properly for the occasion, you think that you would be downright gloomy sitting outside.

Luckily for you, you had just the right skeleton with you to eliminate said doom and gloom.

Papyrus was ecstatic to see the wintery weather outside and had invited you on an outing especially for the occasion. You had of course agreed, as you were happy to keep him company. You’d come to learn on the brief drive that Papyrus was especially fond of the colder seasons, namely winter, even if some of his cousins were more averse to it. From what he told you, he and Sans specifically used to live in a colder place in the Underground, so maybe that was part of why.

“Well, this is where we stop!” Papyrus parked the car near a small field, one that looked to be fairly clear of people and just as frosty as anywhere else you had been. Papyrus stepped out of the car, careful of the icy pavement. In what you assumed was an attempt to impress you, he leapt onto the hood of his car and slid across to the other side, striking a pose that you could only describe as, “an attempt.” He quickly regained his bearings before strutting to the other side of the car to help you onto your feet. Once you found your footing, he took your hand in his and led you out into the field.

“So, you got any plans for us while we’re out here, Papy?” You eyed the field, nothing but snow and trees in sight.

“None whatsoever!” He happily declared, taking confident strides out into the open. “Though that’s what makes the snow so fun! Endless opportunities in what you can make, and what you can innovate! Observe!”

Papyrus proceeded to spread his arms into a T-pose and fell straight back and into the snow. You stared wide-eyed as he landed, unflinching, to the ground below, the smile never leaving his face. After a moment, he carefully lifted himself back to his feet, making a point to keep his feet spread in the position he fell in.

“Behold! I have successfully created a ‘Snow Papyrus!’ As you can see, I have utilized the force of my body to craft an image in my likeness! Now, I know what you’re thinking: ‘but, Papyrus! How would I be able to tell this is the very cool skeleton I think it is, and not another skeleton of similar likeness?’ I have a solution for that!”

Papyrus then proceeded to walk over to the head and poked two holes and a toothy smile into the impression with his finger.

“Ta-da! A complete Snow Papyrus!” Papyrus proclaimed, standing back up with confidence. You laughed, clapping at his antics. He bowed, his smile wide.

“Excellent work, Papyrus! I thought you were more of a snowman sculptor though?”

“Yes, well, I am! Though from what I understand, humans can only spend so much time in the cold before they must defrost, and I do not wish for you to freeze. Sculpting may take hours, and given I love you more than anything, I wish to accommodate the idea of you NOT turning into a popsicle.”

“Fair enough.” You giggled. “Still, I think we could probably make a traditional human-style snowman with all of this. Have you ever made one before?”

“I cannot say that I have! Most of my work has been of…well, myself!”

“Well, it’s easy enough. Here, I’ll show you!”

You took a small amount of snow in your hands and packed it into a small sphere.

“All you have to do is take a ball of snow and roll it around until it forms an even larger ball. Repeat that 2 more times, creating smaller balls each time, and stack them. Then boom! A snowman!” As you described in the process, you built a mini snowman on the ground. Once you were finished, Papyrus nodded, humming in understanding.

“Ah, yes, these snowmen! I knew of a monster who looked just like that! I believe the human Frisk still has a piece of him stored in their freezer…” You gave him a look, and at that point he realized how weird that must have sounded, as he quickly shook his head. “Um…regardless, let’s get to building!”

Papyrus proceeded to craft a snowball and sprinted, rolling up the snow as he went. It only took him a minute before he’d made a base that went up to your knees. Meanwhile you’d barely gotten started on the middle portion. Man, he could work fast when he was excited!

“How did that not fall apart in your hands?” You asked as he began on his second ball.

“I am quite skilled at handling snow, you know! Making a snowball is mere child’s play! Nyeheheh!” Papyrus was off to make the second ball, returning just as you finished the head. He planted the torso, securing it firmly on the base as you raised the head and plopped it on right after.

Your little snowman was a cute little thing, but a bit bare with just the snow.

“Hey Papyrus, could you grab some sticks from the trees over there? I want to give this little guy a couple more accessories.”

“Of course! I’m happy to oblige!”

Papyrus ran off to the wooded area of the field while you pondered the state of your snowy creation. Careful not to tip the head off, you poked two little holes into his head and drew a smile, much like Papyrus had done with his Snow Papyrus earlier. It still felt a bit lifeless. You remedied that by unwinding your scarf from around your neck. A splash of color seemed to be just what he needed.

Soon enough, Papyrus returned to your side, a small bundle of sticks in his hand. He observed the small changes you made, his grin hesitant.

“Well, I see you are quite the artist! Though won’t you be cold without your scarf?”

“I’ll be fine! Now, come on, let’s finish him up!” You gleefully nabbed two decent-sized sticks from Papyrus’ stack and stuck them into the snowman. Finally, your work was complete! You stood back to admire your work, when you were suddenly draped in a flowing red material.

“Papyrus?” You asked, feeling for whatever passed in front of your face. You reached around, only to find that Papyrus was swiftly wrapping his own scarf around your neck.

“I’m not letting you freeze under my watch! Even if you generously donated your scarf to another, your neck shall not go cold as long as I am here!” Papyrus grinned, clearly very proud of himself. You giggled, pulling the garment closer around your neck. You didn’t know what made you think of it, but it smelled faintly like the moon.

“Now!” Papyrus declared, “There is one last activity that I believe would be quite enjoyable while we are here!” Papyrus gave you a wide grin, sprinting to the car. In the blink of an eye, he was back, a bag slung over his shoulders. It astounded you just how many trips back and forth he could manage to make.

Just as quickly, he took you by the hand and led you past a line of trees. A few minutes of walking led you to another clearing, this one slightly different from the first.

The main difference being the small hill that divided it into two, and a small hill of snow dividing the two. Papyrus gave you a wide grin, kicking up into the air and landing gently on the top of the hill. With a flick of his wrist, the bag flew away, revealing what was inside.

It turns out that he had brought a sled!

Papyrus stepped onto the sled, placing himself delicately before gliding down the hill like a surfer riding a wave. He slid to your side, taking a bow as he stepped back into the snow.

“No good winter day is complete without taking a ride on a sled, don’t you think? It’s like cruising in a mini vehicle, but only one way and with a significant chance of face planting into a pile of snow!” Papyrus smiled, placing the sled into your hands. “I take it that you would like a turn of your own?”

“Oh absolutely!” You cheered, gripping it tight. You quickly sprinted to the top of the hill, sitting down squarely before pushing yourself off the ledge. The snow kicked up around you as you yelped in glee, landing at the bottom. Papyrus cheered as you arrived at your destination.

“Excellent form, snickerdoodle!” Papyrus applauded, helping you up and off the sled.

“Thank you, Papyrus, I try my best.” You giggled, giving him his sled back.

The two of you took turns going down the hill, with you just for the fun of it and with Papyrus trying to perform as many tricks as he could possibly do. Handstands, superman, one-legged, the works. You managed to snap a few photos for posterity. Though the ones you managed to get of him landing face-first would be stored in a folder that he’d never have to see.

A few rounds of sledding eventually wore you out, with the climb up the hill getting to be a bit much for your legs. Papyrus seemed to detect the wear on your body, as eventually he dropped the board and took a knee, taking your hand in his.

“Are you all right, sweetie? You seem out of it.”

“Yeah,” you replied, “I think my body is just telling me I’m ready to head home.” Papyrus nodded, planting a boney kiss on the back of your hand.

“Very well. Thank you for spending all of today with me. Would you like to cruise down the hill one more time before we depart?”

“Sure, Papy.” He grinned wide before hoisting you up in a bridal carry and taking you up the cliff. He gently planted you down on the ground before climbing back down to retrieve the sled. In a snap, he was at your side, setting the sled on the ground. He reached out a hand.

“May I have this ride, sweetie?” He asked, the grin wide on his face.

“Gladly.”

Papyrus helped you up, settling you near the front of the sled. He took his place behind you, wrapping one arm around you as the other rested on the ground behind him.

“Three…two…one!”

The two of you counted down together before Papyrus shoved off, the two of you laughing as you slid down the hill. Papyrus gave you a tight hug as you landed, pressing a kiss into the back of your head.

“Thank you for such a lovely snow day.” You leaned back into the hug, leaning back to rest your head against his shoulder. Papyrus snuggled you even closer, uttering a little “Nyeheheh” in his delight.

“Any time, my sweet snickerdoodle! I’m glad that I was able to spend this time with you. Though we go and I let you return to a not-so-frozen inside of my car, I do have one small question.”

“What’s up?” You asked, glancing up to meet his sockets. He gulped.

“I know that I cast my sled covering off into the woods for the sake of presentation and impressing you, but I did not happen to see where it landed. Did you?”

You shrugged your shoulders in response, chuckling a bit. Papyrus sighed, climbing off the sled with you in tow.

“Well, I suppose there is one more last thing to do before we go. Would you mind helping me look for it?” Papyrus laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Not at all, Papy.”

After all, this was such a fun snow day. What was the harm in it lasting just a bit longer?

[veebeeboo109]

Cleaning up the Timeline

{My contribution to the fandom. The obligatory "everyone lives together in one big house and they kiss kiss kiss, and they love love love each other.}

Read on ao3.

Tags: Reader/L&DS Men, Romance, Maid AU, Eventual Smut. SFW (For now) Mentions of grief and severe depression.

Chapter 1: Suspended?

Sitting on a park bench in the middle of winter is not how you thought you’d be spending this afternoon. Though, you aren’t sure where you would like to be at the moment– shivering and sniffling as the wind whips at your face is not it. 

Involuntary Leave. God, the sound of Jenna’s voice just wouldn’t leave your mind. She had said it so softly, like speaking to a baby bird. Like the last vestiges of your sanity would crumble if she spoke above a whisper. 

After the explosion that had– that had….After the explosion, you’d had a hard time. You did your best. Getting up in the morning. Reporting for duty. Killing a wanderer here and there. But you must have gotten lost somewhere along the way. Because a week turned into a month and then suddenly, Captain Jenna is in front of you with a sad expression and a packet of papers neatly tucked into a folder. 

Apparently, you hadn’t shown up for work several times this month, and when you did you refused to go on patrols. Even your desk work was shoddy and riddled with obvious errors.

Tara had tried to cover for you on multiple occasions, but everyone at this point had noticed your zombie state. Though, Jenna had been kinder when she mentioned it. 

“You’re off your game.” She had said. “Take some time. I’ve found some counselors and put their information in the folder. When you’re ready, your position here will be waiting. I swear.”

The wind picks up, slapping your hair across your face and pulling you from your thoughts. The tips of your fingers had long since gone numb, and your feet feel like dead weights. 

Now what? All the information in the packet, yet no one had told your landlord that it was temporary. That bald jerk had gotten the notification of a change in your employment, and the next day you received a message requesting the keys.

If you had a nickel for every time you’d lost everything. You’d have two.

Snot drips down from your nose, the cold once again insisting on reminding you of its presence. Just as you go to wipe it away, your phone buzzes. 

I just left the hospital. I’ll be there in ten.

-Zayne.

That’s right. You were supposed to have lunch today. Zayne had insisted at the last check-up on it. He wasn’t very subtle in his worry for you, but a free lunch sounds like just what you need right now. 

You had enough money left for a storage unit for your furniture, and had packed everything else in an oversized suitcase. The poor baby-pink luggage had only seen one other use before now, and it stands out against the snow that’s beginning to stick to the ground. 

You have to double check which restaurant you’re meeting at, the details escaping your already flighty mind. It isn’t a far walk, which is good, because the double digit number in your bank account bars you against a hotel, let alone a taxi. 

With your suitcase at your side, you make your way to the restaurant. The little blackboard sign out front displays an overly enthusiastic caricature of a mug, and advertises the new options for hot cocoa. 

Of course Zayne would pick a place like this. You enter into the blissfully well-heated establishment and scan the room for a familiar mop of charcoal hair. 

“What good timing.” A dulcet voice rumbles from behind you. With a slight jump, you turn, seeing the very man you were looking for enter. Speckles of snowflakes dot his hair and decorate the beige of his coat. He smiles gently and unwinds the scarf from around his neck. “Shall we sit?”

You follow him to a corner seat next to a window and tuck your suitcase next to your chair. Now that you’re sitting in a climate controlled room, you release a bone-deep sigh.

“You really should be wearing gloves.” Zayne notes as he finishes pushing in your chair and goes to sit across from you. “And a hat. The weather report called for more than four inches of snow tonight.”

“Oh,” You say dreadfully. “I…I just forgot.” 

Zayne’s eyes narrow slightly as he slides one of the menus in front of you. “Are you traveling?”

“Huh?” You blurt, looking up from the pastel colors of the menu. 

Zayne doesn’t reply and simply nods towards the obnoxiously colored bag at your side. 

Crap. You think as a flush blooms across your cheeks. You hadn’t really thought about it, but what could you say? ‘Oh no Zaynie! I’m not traveling! I got kicked out of my apartment after I was pretty much fired from my job! I have enough in my bank account for a hotel, and that's only if I turn a trick on the way there!’

Zayne might have known you longer than anyone else alive at this point, but your pride prevents you from divulging your latest shame. Of everyone you know, Zayne has his shit together the most. How could you expose yourself for not only not having your shit together, but being so far up shit’s creek without a paddle you’re in the snow?

“Oh um,” You stall as you try to think of an excuse, “Yeah. A spontaneous trip, I guess.”

Zayne lifts his menu and begins to browse it, but you’re aware of the frequency with which he glances up at you. Suspicion swirling in his golden-green eyes. 

A peppy waitress walks over and Zayne orders two waters and two hot chocolates. A salted caramel for him, and you pick out your choice from the dozen or so options. 

The happy, young lady scurries away, and you feel a bitter pang of envy. She probably doesn’t have a care in the world. She probably hasn’t had to mourn anybody– while you’re stuck mourning two families now. Try as you might to fight it, you’re jealous of the peppy waitress and her simple, simple life. 

“You’re quieter than usual.” Zayne comments as he relaxes back in his seat. The snow outside has picked up now, casting a white haze over the street. The sidewalk has a good coating of it, and the people who walk by are hunched and hurrying. 

Just your luck to be homeless during a blizzard.

“Just a lot on my mind, I guess.” You reply with as much cheer as you can manage. “How’s work? You mentioned an uptick in trauma cases last time I saw you?”

The corners of Zayne’s mouth curl downwards. “From what I can gather, there’s been more random Wanderer attacks. People being ambushed in places usually deemed secure. As a Hunter, you’ve surely noticed the same?”

No, no you hadn’t. 

“Right. I-uh– I’ve been doing more deskwork lately.” You say lamely, but suddenly remembering the frequency with which your Hunter’s watch has been going off lately, maybe that was it? You’d thought you were just losing time in between notifications. “There has been more commotion, though.”

The waitress returns with your glasses of water and oversized mugs of hot chocolate; a polite smile and pen at the ready for your food order. Zayne orders a honey glazed salmon dish, while you choose something as filling as you could. Who knew the next time you’d eat out?

Once again, the waitress leaves, and Zayne turns his pressurized attention back to you. It always felt like he was reading you somehow, like a poker player at a high-stakes table. You wonder if he could see your tells. If, somehow, he’d deduced your unfortunate circumstances from innocuous movements of your eyelashes. 

His phone on the table buzzes a few times, long drawn out hums of a phone call that made his phone glide to the side. “Forgive me, I need to take this.”

Always the gentleman. He lifts it, and with a sigh he answers. 

Zayne didn’t even get a chance to greet the other person before an angry voice was shouting belligerently through the receiver. Zayne pulls the phone away from his ear with a slight grimace.

You can’t tell what the other person is shouting about, only that they’re mad. Ranting pointedly at Zayne with no regard for the safety of his eardrums.

“Calm–” A sigh, “Calm down. I can’t understand anything you’re saying.”

Another tirade of shouting sounds from the other end, muffled and garbled by the small speaker. Zayne flinches again and sighs, “Alright, alright. I’ll take care of it. I understand– Huh? No, I’ll find someone new. – Well, you'll just have to deal with the mess until then.”

A more subdued response came from the phone, quiet enough you only heard the soft mumbles of their voice. Zayne nods along for a moment before mumbling out a gentle goodbye. 

“I apologize.” Zayne says as he sits his phone back down. “My…colleagues are difficult at times.”

You chuckle softly, “That didn’t sound like Greyson or anyone else I know at the hospital. Sounded like they were raging. Everything okay?”

Zayne exhales heavily through his nose and rests his hand on the table, tapping his fingers a few times– a habit. You could see a few remnants of pale scars across his thumb and his knuckles, ghosts of run-ins with his unruly Evol.

“He fired another housekeeper.” Zayne grumbles, “That’s six now in two months. I fear we’ll gain a reputation at this rate.”

“You have a housekeeper?” You ask with a slight tilt of your head. You thought perfectly neat and tidy Zayne would have no need for a housekeeper. 

“Had a housekeeper.” Zayne amended. The waitress returned and placed your plates in front of you, refilling your waters and skipping away.

“I wouldn't think you would need one. Is your apartment big?” You ask as you nudge at some vegetables on the plate with your fork. 

“I moved last year. A house on the outskirts of the city.” Zayne replies, “It’s too big for me to take care of myself, and the others are less than helpful.”

“You have roommates?” 

“Three.” Zayne finishes his hot chocolate before turning to his food, “Though, I’m not sure how managing the house fell to me. I think the manager at the agency will throttle me if I try to go back again.”

You pause, “So, you need a housekeeper? Isn’t that expensive?”

Zayne’s expression hardens a bit. You’d never discussed money before, nothing more than debating who would cover a bill at a restaurant. 

“We split the expenses.” Zayne offers with a small shrug. “Why? Debating hiring one of your own?”

His joke doesn’t register because your mind is cooking up a half-baked, under seasoned idea. You drop your fork and it clatters onto the table, “Let me do it.”

Zayne blinks, “What?”

Leaning forward in your seat, your heart is pounding in your ears. You feel like you just put every last dime on red twenty-three and the roulette wheel is spinning. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your housekeeper.”

Zayne covers his mouth with the back of his hand in a soft airy laugh, but it quickly fades when he sees your expression. He clears his throat and assesses you with that cool, calculating stare, “Why on earth would you want to do that? What about–”

“Zayne, please.” You interrupt him, and the cold edge to his stare melts. He looks caught off-guard, and why wouldn’t he be? You huff out a mirthless laugh, “Let me do it. I’ll cook and clean and whatever else.”

“Absolutely not.” He rejects quickly, “That feels wrong. You’re my friend and that’s–”

“I need the money.” You admit with a stone in your gut. 

Zayne freezes, and you can see the wheels in his genius mind turning. He glances over to your suitcase, and you know you’re found out. “What’s happened?”

“I just need enough to get a cheap room.” You say instead of answering his question. “We can make a contract, and I’ll pay you back, I swear.”

“What happened?” The tone in his voice is sharp and strikes you directly in the chest.

You stare down at your untouched food and blink away the stinging in your eyes, “They put me on leave. The landlord kicked me out. I…I’m not traveling.”

The words leave you like vomit, stinging your tongue with the wretched taste of them. 

“You can just stay with me.” Zayne’s voice cuts through the growing haze in your mind. The cold fog that you’ve been living in for months, brushed away at the warmth in his voice. 

“No, I can’t do that.” You insist with a shake of your head. “I won’t take advantage of you. If I’m not working elsewhere, then I’ll earn my keep.”

“That’s really not nec–”

“Yes, it is.” You interrupt him again, voice trembling, and you realize how tightly you're gripping onto the tablecloth underneath the table because your fingers begin to ache. 

You can tell Zayne wants to push it. To others it might look like he’s just irritated, but you can see the uncertainty there. You’d known him long enough to know when he was silently debating something in his mind. You sit frozen, food growing cold, and wait for his answer. Teetering on a knife’s edge.

When he sighs and shakes his head, you realize you’ve won and some fraying knot in your gut unravels. You smile and try not to look too overjoyed, but the realization you won’t have to sleep on a park bench has just made your week. 

“Eat your food.” He says firmly as he lifts his utensils, “I’ll take you to the house afterward.”

You smile and dig in, food tasting better than it has in months.

Your bike is currently in a parking garage at the mall near your old apartment, and so you climb into Zayne’s black sedan while he– after pulling it from your hands– puts your suitcase in the trunk. 

Rubbing your hands together to fend off the leeching cold, you silently thank the gods for sending Zayne to you. 

His car is nice, with leather seats and a fancy entertainment system, but not flashy. Trimmed with deep colored wood and elegant silver. There’s nothing sentimental in the car– no kitchy trinket hanging from the mirror, or cute steering wheel cover. If you didn’t know any better, you might think it was a rental. 

As Zayne begins to drive in silence, you realize he’s not the type to leave traces behind. His office has a picture of his parents, and a few mementos from patients, but nothing to really mark it as his. His car is bare of him, and you wonder if his house is the same. 

In your rush to vacate your apartment, you had been sure to keep some sentimental things. Pictures and plushies from your life that now feels a million miles away. Just as much space was dedicated to the keepsakes as it was clothes and necessities. 

“For the record,” Zayne says finally as he turns onto a highway. “I am not a fan of this. Your stubbornness is really unnecessary, and I’d much prefer it if you just stayed as a guest.”

You bite at your lower lip, hating putting him in this uncomfortable position. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stand the idea of taking advantage of your hospitality like that. I have no idea how long this will last. Please, let me do this.”

Silence answers but then, a soft laugh, “Never thought I’d hear someone begging to clean my house.”

You look over at him with your mouth ajar and find that subtle gaiety dancing in his eyes. He could be downright playful when he wanted to be, but it was rare. It had taken you years to understand his dry humor, and to understand the difference between a jab and a jape. 

“We should set some expectations, I suppose.” Zayne says before you can retort. “The house is rather large, and has multiple rooms. The main priority is the common spaces: the living room, kitchen, dining, room, etcetera.”

“I can handle that.” You say with a determined grin.

“There’s also a gym. A studio. And a garage.” Zayne mentions, glancing at you to gauge your reaction, but you don’t back down. “The bedrooms are for the occupants to clean. They can handle their own laundry, for the most part.”

For lack of anything else, you stare at Zayne’s hands, watching as they flex against the smooth leather of the steering wheel. His scarred knuckles shift as he turns. You feel like you know him so well, able to read him and understand him, but you had no idea he’d moved and no clue how a man like Zayne ended up living with three roommates. It made you wonder how much you really know about him. 

“Got it.” You affirm with a nod. 

“Can I at least convince you to take a week before working?” He tries again. 

The bustle of the city transitions to wide spread out buildings, but not a residential neighborhood like you expected. It feels like a commercial district with rows of tall, wide rectangular buildings and neatly trimmed ornamental gardens. 

“I’ll take a day to settle in.” You offer, and Zayne just sighs. 

Zayne pulls up to a building that most certainly does not look like a house. It's a plain rectangular thing covered in windows on the second and third floors, but the bottom being plain concrete. He turns through an automatic gate and then down a ramp into a garage below. 

The bright white of the snowy upper world gives way to the shadowy cavern, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. It’s almost like a parking garage with a series of spots filled with other cars and two bikes. 

You keep your questions to yourself, though they buzz at the tip of your tongue as Zayne shifts the car into park and exits. You take a deep breath and unbuckle your seatbelt, and by the time you turn to exit, Zayne is opening your door. 

You flush at the chivalrous treatment and take the hand he offers. Your hand is only mildly warmer than his– cool fingers holding your palm with a loose, chaste grip. 

The air in the garage is cold, but not nearly as frigid as the outside. You fluster for words for a moment while Zayne goes to the trunk and retrieves your suitcase, sliding it out of your range when you try to take it from him. 

The smirk on his face is equally flustering as it is frustrating. He leads you over to the far wall, and you realize there’s an elevator. 

You can’t help the impressed whistle as he presses the call button, “An elevator? Wowee, this is some place you’ve got here.”

Zayne chuckles as the elevator door opens and he motions for you to enter first. He follows you and presses the star button for the main floor, “It’s more lavish than what I would have picked, but the others have their tastes.”

“You haven’t told me about your roommates yet.” You mention as the elevator ascends, a touch of nerves sparking in you at the realization that you'll be staying with more people than just Zayne.

“They’ll likely keep to themselves.” Zayne assures. Another ding and the doors part, this time Zayne steps out first and holds a hand over the doors as you exit. 

The elevator opens up into a tall foyer. Shiny wooden floors with a long carpet down the middle. The walls are decorated with art you’d think should be in a museum, and a heavy chandelier hangs over your heads. 

Zayne’s hand ghosts across your lower back and pulls your attention away from admiring the decor, “This way.”

Nearly boneless, you follow him. Turning around a corner and into a wide, open concept living space. A cozy area with three couches surrounding a large, square coffee table is the centerpiece of the room. A modern fireplace on one side, and TV above it. The windows completely line the opposite wall, with a picturesque view of a garden and the city beyond being pelted with bouts of snow. 

The kitchen is to the left, separated from the living room by a long bar with square barstools lining it. A hanging light fixture illuminates the area, swirling organic metal holding several pendant lights. 

It’s massive. It’s lavish. It’s going to be hell to keep clean. This seems like too much house for even four people. Who lives like this?

More paintings fill spaces on the walls, plenty of greenery decorating the corners and surfaces, giving the space a more warm and cozy feel. You’re certain this place would feel clinical without it. 

“This is the main area,” Zayne explains, “The main kitchen is there, but there’s a smaller one upstairs.”

Two kitchens? Your mind squawks, but you keep your lips sealed. Nodding with a tight smile when Zayne looks your way.

“There are two bedrooms on this floor. Two on the next floor. And one below us.” Zayne continues as he turns towards the hall to the right. “The spare bedroom is upstairs. Follow me.”

Zayne picks up your suitcase and leads you up a staircase and down another hall. He opens a door and lets you inside, setting your luggage on the settee at the end of the bed. 

For guest bedrooms, this one is very cozy. Instead of sharp lines and modern finishes, it’s more plush. Wooden furniture and warm colored walls. The bedding is a soft cream and there's pastel blue, pink and purple pillows at the head. One of the walls is almost all windows again, but when you step close the cold barely leaks through. 

Zayne walks to the other wall and opens a door, “Here’s the closet.” then over to the last wall, “And here’s the ensuite bathroom.”

Your heart suddenly swells, feeling overwhelmed. “This is…thank you, Zayne.”

A small smile appears on his face and he approaches you– you think he might touch you. A gentle touch to your hair or even a hug. You feel yourself brace for it, not moving physically but opening up like a flower to his potential affection. 

He doesn’t touch you, but he does offer you one of those dazzling small but breathtaking grins that he does. The sweetness of his smile reaching the precious gems in his eyes, sparkling with something so genuine it makes your heart hurt.

“I have to return to the hospital.” Zanyne says, and your heart sinks. “Feel free to explore the place. I’ll send a message to the others about the circumstances.”

“I’ll probably hide in here til you get back,” You admit with a laugh. 

“Do you need anything while I’m out?” He asks, “Were you able to get everything from your apartment?”

“I think so.” You take in a deep breath and let the relief settle in, “Thank you again Zayne. We can discuss the specifics when you get home.”

His eyelashes flutter a bit as he reacts imperceptibly to your words, but his smile returns and he nods, “I’ll see you then.”

Next->

(Proofread Edits: 4/25/2025)

[wikiangela]

swept completely off my feet, this snow globe scene is turning me

written for @bucktommywinterfest prompt: December 8-14: hallmark movies/movie night and/or “I've actually never seen snow before.

rated: G word count: 2.5k

[also on ao3]

“You know,” Tommy’s voice is quiet, barely a whisper, almost drowned out by the sounds of the TV. It’s some kind of Hallmark movie Buck’s half-paying attention to, half-dozing off after the gruelling shift today. “I’ve actually never seen snow before.”  “What?” Buck raises his head from where it’s been resting on Tommy’s shoulder to look at him, immediately more awake. Tommy looks back, almost surprised, as if he didn’t mean to say anything. His fingers keep moving in soothing motions over Buck’s knee, where his legs are thrown over Tommy’s lap. They’re cuddled up under a blanket, and it’s almost too hot – it’s a combination of the blanket, hot chocolate, and the quite warm early December LA evening. It’s far from a true Christmas-winter atmosphere Buck grew up with, but he got used to the warm weather a long time ago. He still misses snow sometimes. He’d never think his boyfriend never saw snow, though.  “Never?” Buck asks, trying to keep his shock out of his voice. “I mean, I’ve seen it in movies or pictures.” Tommy gestures vaguely to the TV screen. Buck glances at it to see the characters walking through a snowy landscape. Ah, so that’s what prompted the confession. “I just never had the opportunity to see it in real life.” “In all your forty one years alive? Not once?”

“Evan.” Tommy levels him with a look. “You know I’ve lived in LA my whole life.”

“Yeah, but- but you’re a pilot! You can fly anywhere! And you’ve never travelled?” Buck asks incredulously.

“Nowhere where there’s snow.” Tommy shrugs. “And I’m a pilot for LAFD, honey, not a lot of travelling outside of California. Why is this so shocking? There’s plenty of people who have never seen snow.”

“Still, it’s Christmas. Don’t get me wrong, I love LA, this is my home. But Christmas with snow? That’s a totally different atmosphere. Like in those movies,” he nods towards the screen, now presenting a cozy-looking room, snow behind the window. “The air smells crisp and fresh, you can actually curl up under a blanket with your hot boyfriend and a hot chocolate and not feel like you’re burning ten minutes later,” he says and Tommy laughs, “and all the decorations look so much better with snow – why do you think some people put fake snow in their backyards?”

“We’re not doing that, by the way.” Tommy is quick to add, because lately they’re in the middle of discussing decorating his house, which Buck thinks needs to be much more festive. He already started putting up decorations as soon as December rolled around. Tommy has been indulging him with everything so far, all the lights and garlands and a wreath on his front door, and stockings – Buck ordered custom ones, one with ‘Evan’, the other with ‘Tommy’ on them. There’s also little figurines, like Santas and Christmas trees, and reindeers and whatnot all over the place. They’re only missing an actual tree and decorations outside. And mistletoe, that’s a must. Buck has plans for everything, but there’s still time until Christmas, so they’re taking it slow. 

“Of course not.” Buck rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying, it looks better with snow. Also, snow is just fun! You’ve never been sledding? Or ice-skating? Or made a snowman? Or angels in the snow? Or had a snowball fight?” He can feel his eyes get wider with each question, as it’s just settling in how much Tommy’s missed out on – and a plan is forming to remedy that. 

It’s not that Buck loves snow so much – he likes it just fine, but he prefers the hot LA weather. It’s just that it’s Christmas, and as un-festive as his holidays at home usually were, some of his favorite memories are when Maddie took him to play in the snow as a child, and how much fun he had with his friends, skating over frozen lakes and having snowball fights. 

“And Santa!” He continues, eyebrows raised high. Tommy looks amused now, looking at Buck’s outrage with a grin. “Santa travels by sleigh!”

“Baby, I’m sorry to tell you this, but Santa doesn’t exist.” Tommy says teasingly, mock-concerned, and Buck lightly slaps at his chest. “Besides, he’s magic, he doesn’t need snow.”

“We’re getting off-track here.” Buck shakes his head. “You’ve never seen snow.”

“Never.” Tommy nods.

“Well, you’re gonna.” Buck says decisively, moving to get off of Tommy’s lap, but Tommy’s strong hands keep him in place.

“Where are you going?”

“To grab my phone. I need to find someplace to take you this Christmas to see snow.” Buck says simply, a plan already forming in his head, a thousand ideas coming at once. It suddenly becomes one of the most important things that he makes sure Tommy sees snow this year.

“You wanna go away for Christmas? Really?” Tommy asks skeptically, frowning.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because you’re the biggest family guy I know. Don’t you wanna spend it with your family? I thought we were going to Maddie’s.” One of Tommy’s hands is moving softly along Buck’s back, the other still resting on his knee. Buck sinks into his touch again, relaxes against him.

“Right, we are.” Buck nods, thinking intensely. “Well, we can go away for New Year’s Eve?” He suggests. “We could take two days off, make a trip out of it. And if we can’t get time off then,” he adds, because it is a very busy time, and people usually take time off well in advance. They might need all hands on deck, and then they won’t get time off – or even spend it together, unless by some miracle they run into each other at a call. “We can take a random weekend in January. Or maybe even now, way before Christmas. And we’ll go see snow.”

“Where? You gonna take me to meet your parents or something?” He asks with a teasing smirk, knowing full-well that’s not what Buck meant. He’s on good terms with his parents now, they get along much better, but he’s not taking Tommy to meet them. He already has met them, but also he doesn’t feel the need to go back to his childhood home. Though he hasn’t been back there in years, they could get a hotel room and visit his parents for an hour or so, since they always visit him and Maddie lately… Hm, maybe. It’s a thought, for much, much later. Right now, all he wants is to take Tommy somewhere with snow.

“Ha, you’re so funny.” Buck shakes his head, leaning forward to press a kiss against Tommy’s smile. “No, I’d take you somewhere nice. To one of those towns in your rom-coms.” Buck grins, turning back to the TV and gesturing at the screen, the movie evidently ending, the main couple currently kissing in the snow. He wants to kiss Tommy like this, too. In a quaint, quiet Christmas town, snow falling into their hair, melting on their hot cheeks as they smile into each other’s lips. He wants to give Tommy the most Christmas rom-com kiss he’s ever had.

“Not sure those exist in real life.” Tommy chuckles, the sound reverberating through his chest where Buck’s pressed against him. He loves the sound of Tommy’s laugh, but he also loves feeling it vibrate through him, it’s always so nice and soothing, Buck could fall asleep to it.

“Well, I’ll find one.” Buck says decisively. Tommy laughs again, presses a soft kiss to Buck’s forehead, right on his birthmark.

“If anyone’s gonna make it happen, it’s you, baby,” he whispers against Buck’s skin. Buck feels his cheeks warm up, a shiver running down his spine, a dopey smile on his face.

“Yeah,” he smiles smugly, “so if you just let me grab my phone-” He tries to move off of Tommy again, but his man holds him in place, one hand sliding down his back to his hip, the other still on his knees, his grip tightening.

“Later, I’m too comfortable like this.” Tommy pouts, and it’s so adorable Buck can’t not relent. He leans back again, head back on Tommy’s shoulder, Tommy’s fingers resuming caressing Buck’s knees thrown over his lap.

“Okay,” he mutters, his hand settling on Tommy’s chest, right above his steadily beating heart. “I can think of places now, and do my research later, when you’re asleep way before me, like always, old man,” he teases, and gets pinched in his side for this, accompanied by his boyfriend’s laugh.

“Oh, really?” Tommy quirks an eyebrow. “Remind me of that next time you want me to hold you up against a wall for a long period of time.” He says with a teasing smirk, then huffs. “I’ll show you old.”

“Shut up.” Buck laughs. If he wasn’t as tired as he is, he’d try that right now, he loves riling Tommy up, and there’s a good chance they would end up against a wall, his legs wrapped around Tommy’s hips; or on the floor, or in bed, or even just naked on the couch, or just about anywhere in Tommy’s house. Alas, he’s beat, and all he has the energy for is cuddling. Maybe he could use a quick nap during the next movie before he tries to start anything. “Are we watching another one?”

“Of course we are.” Tommy grabs the remote. “You wanna choose this time?”

“No, it’s fine, you choose, baby.” Buck sighs snuggling against his boyfriend, as he watches Tommy scroll through the movie options. All of them Christmas-themed, snowy, perfect for this time of year. And normally it might not be Buck’s first, or even tenth option, but with Tommy, he really finds those movies enjoyable. Or maybe that’s his boyfriend’s presence making everything better, as always.

They can’t find time to get away until mid-January, but as soon as they both get time off at the same time, Buck books a little resort in some small snowy town he found on one of his research binges. As soon as they exit their plane, he can’t take his eyes off Tommy’s face, wanting to see even his smallest reaction to snow. It’s silly. He’s seen snow, on TV, in movies, in pictures. Still, seeing the real thing must be different. Besides, Buck will use any excuse to get away with his boyfriend for a few days.

Especially once they get into the town center, the cab driving them to their resort. There’s still leftover Christmas decorations, there’s a thick layer of snow on the ground, it looks like it’s sparkling in the early afternoon sun. It looks magical. The look on Tommy’s face is even better.

When they exit the car, their feet sinking into the snow, Tommy takes a deep breath, inhaling the icy, fresh air so distinct for snow. He bends down to touch the snow, childlike wonder in his face. Buck is so happy to give this to him, as simple and silly as it might be. He loves Tommy so much, he wants to give him everything he ever dreams of. He’s also very happy to be able to give him some firsts, even if they’re not as groundbreaking as the firsts Buck’s experienced with Tommy so far. 

Tommy’s still looking at the snow, now melting in his hand, probably freezing. Buck pays the cab driver and takes their bags out of the trunk, but before they go inside, he gives Tommy a second more. It’s adorable how awed he looks.

It’s starting to snow, too, and when Tommy looks up at the sky, snowflakes dotting his cheeks and getting caught up in his hair, his smile could light up the darkest night, all scrunched up nose and crinkling eyes – the most gorgeous smile Buck’s ever seen in his life. He looks like an angel. It really looks like a scene straight out of Tommy’s favorite cheesy holiday rom-coms. They’re basically alone on the street, surrounded by so much snow, the town really quiet and serene, some vague sounds of life reaching their ears from a few streets over. 

Tommy’s so entranced by his first time touching snow and seeing it fall in real life, he doesn’t notice Buck bending down to pick up some snow himself. Buck grins wickedly.

“Hey, baby,” Buck gets his attention, and is almost sorry to ruin the mood, but getting hit with a snowball is a crucial snow experience, and he won’t deny his boyfriend that. So, he throws, gentle enough, the soft snow basically falling apart – fortunately, because he hits Tommy’s face. Tommy yelps in surprise and Buck laughs – and then starts running when Tommy retaliates.

That’s how they end up in a snowball fight, turned wrestling in the snow, turned making out in the snow, right at the entrance of their resort, not caring who sees or judges them, just full of pure, unadulterated joy, happiness, and so much love. 

They’re both soaking wet and freezing when they get the keys to their room, giggling any time they glance at each other like a couple of teenagers, the elderly woman at the front desk smiling at them amusedly and fondly. Buck grins at her, and puts an arm around Tommy, kissing his temple. He can’t stop smiling.

They take a walk in the evening, fingers intertwined, snow softly falling, the town looking so peaceful and beautiful and picturesque, like from a postcard. But all Buck sees is Tommy’s face. His sparkling eyes and wonder in his face, and that amazing, wide, happy smile.

“So, you’re having fun?” Buck asks, swinging their hands back and forth. Tommy turns to look at him with a grin.

“Yeah. A lot. More than I expected.” He nods, brings their hands up to his lips to kiss Buck’s knuckles – and as always, this move makes Buck violently blush. “Thank you.” Tommy adds softly, squeezing his hand tighter. “For bringing me here, for being here, for being you. For every day since we met. I’m so grateful to have you. I-” he stops, turns fully towards Buck, his face serious but still so, so fond. And oh, Buck thinks he knows where this is going. His heart starts beating faster. “I love you, Evan. I love you so much sometimes I can’t believe it’s possible.” He shakes his head, his eyes shiny, the gorgeous smile on his face melting Buck’s heart. 

“I love you, too, Tommy.” Buck whispers, not wasting even a second once Tommy stops speaking. His heart has been screaming those words for weeks, if not months, and it feels like the biggest relief to finally voice them. “So, so much. I’ve been dying to tell you, I love you. I love you, I love-”

He presses the rest of the words into Tommy’s lips when Tommy puts a hand under his chin and brings him in for a kiss. It’s soft and gentle, both of them not able to stop smiling, as snowflakes fall all over them, catching in their hair and on their eyelashes, small specks of cold on their skin, Tommy’s cold nose pressing into Buck’s cheek. It’s perfect. 

He’s standing in the middle of a snowy little town, kissing the man who’s his everything, who’s his entire future, while snow falls around them, and it might just be the most perfect kiss of his life. 

[also on ao3]

[at-wicks-end]

in another life (you still would've turned my head) ; jw

vampire!john wick x reader fluff !! (lowkey a reincarnation au) ~2.5k words

notes: this fic is written for @treedaddymcpuffpuff for the keanuverse secret santa event hosted by @97keanu <333 i hope you like this!!! this is probably the longest thing i've written on this blog 😵‍💫 happy holidays🩷

John cares little for the snow. It’s not that he found it cumbersome or annoying; it’s just that when one has lived for as long as he has, shoveling the snow from the driveway becomes a little too tedious, even for one well-versed in tedious matters. Such was the nature of immortality—given enough time, even the most unique, spectacular experience becomes boring after a century. 

This task becomes herculean (or Sisyphean, John corrects himself) when said driveway was practically a third of the length of his entire estate, which was also in the middle of the woods. His eye twitches at the thought of the snow that would inevitably impede the driving of his beloved Mustang to the nearest town. With a heavy sigh, John casts one longing look at his car, as spotless and as pristine as the day he got it decades ago. He’ll wait for the winter to pass before he brings out his car for a drive. For now, he thinks reluctantly, he’ll walk. He has more than enough time anyway.

It doesn’t take long for him to get ready. All he does is put on his long coat and wrap a scarf around his neck before heading out. He has no need for it, but it’s easier to pretend to need it than to deal with the constant concerned looks from the townspeople as he walks around. It also helped him blend in with the rest of the people walking around, doing some last-minute gift shopping for loved ones at those ridiculously overpriced boutiques. John blows out the candles in the hallways as he walks to the foyer, running a mental checklist of the things he had to put out or turn off before leaving.

Dog—yes, Dog. Comments about his creativity are not welcome—approaches him with a wagging tail, the soft clicks of his claws on the hardwood floors reminding John that he had to trim them again soon. 

“Hello,” John says warmly, squatting down to pet Dog. “You can’t come with me tonight. I’ll be walking, and it’s too cold.”

Dog woofs once, as if to complain.  John chuckles to himself, ruffling his soft fur before straightening himself. “You’ll be fine. I’ve already fed you dinner, haven’t I? I’ll be back later.”

After one last brief round through the manor, John mildly regrets killing the last butler, if only so he had someone else to do the tedious tasks instead. But then again, the last butler turned out to be some vampire hunter wannabe who slipped silver oxide in his tea one night. That gave him quite the sore throat, John thinks bitterly, locking the doors behind him. The poor man was stupid enough to think that a little silver oxide would be able to take him down completely, and didn’t even bother to bring a weapon. Truthfully, it was a bit insulting.

John trudges through the snow, out of his estate and into the woods. It would take him half an hour to get to town, and by then it’ll be almost ten in the evening. The town and its warm lights strung through trees and lampposts will be winding down by then, shop lights shutting off one by one. All the better for him; the fewer humans around him, the safer it was. At almost three centuries of existence, John was already well-versed in resisting temptation, but it didn’t mean he was fond of placing himself in situations where he could potentially snap. 

Behind him, his manor fades into the darkness, looking abandoned and more dilapidated than it truly is. For a moment, John squints at one of the towers. Hm. he’ll have to take a look at the top window sometime soon; it looked to be on the verge of falling apart.

He walks through the forest in silence, with no other sound to accompany him other than the sound of crunching snow beneath his boots and the occasional birdsong. John allows his thoughts to wander, his mind flitting from events that had happened over a decade ago and wondering what he would do a week from now. The year was coming to an end, and Winston no doubt is itching to drag him to the Continental for the Winter Ball.

Yeah, right. John snorts. Invite a bunch of vampires to one place. Never ends well.

The previous year, the D’Antonio siblings caused quite a scene by bringing untrained, unmarked humans into the venue. The younger vamps could barely resist tearing the poor things apart. At the very least, it had provided enough entertainment for the rest of the evening, according to Koji, an old friend of his.

He should probably give him a call this Christmas if only to check in, John muses. And send over a gift for Akira. What does one give to a young vampling these days anyway?

He’s snapped from his reverie at the sound of grumbling. He freezes, straining his ears to understand what the voice is saying.

“...this is so stupid. Why the fuck did I think this was a good idea? God. I’m gonna get eaten by wolves…”

There are no wolves in the area, John can attest to that, but this human seemed lost. And most certainly not a local, if they were out in the woods at night. He purses his lips, turning his head from the direction of the voice to the general direction of the town. He should be close by now, and the blood dealer was likely there already. John could just leave the unknown voice there to fend for themselves and potentially freeze in the dark. 

But what the hell, he thinks. It’s Christmas. This can be his good deed of the year.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he takes a sharp turn to the right and makes his way to the voice. His eyesight meant that the dark of night wasn’t truly dark to him, but he supposes that to a human, this was close to pitch black. It doesn’t take long for him to spot a figure huddled by the root of a tree in the dark, angrily poking at what looked to be their phone. Humans and their smartphones, John sighs internally.

“Hello,” he says slowly, not wanting to scare them. “Are you lost?”

The human flinches, looking up at him with wide eyes. Moonlight shines on their face just so, and John swears his undead heart would be pounding if it still could.

Oh, he thinks, breathless. It’s you.

You really shouldn’t have come here, you think mournfully. Your roommate brought you along with her for the holidays, feeling bad that you were going to be left in the apartment by yourself. It seemed like a good idea at the time, until you got to her hometown and she promptly dropped you off at the local inn and said goodbye for the week. After asking around for fun activities to do (that had nothing to do with the holidays, thank you very much), one of the younger locals suggested geocaching, now that quite a handful of people were developing an interest in it too. He told you to download an app that should explain things better, and you spent the better part of the afternoon looking things up.

This is supposed to be your third spot to check out, but the signal got worse somewhere along the way, and now your phone is dead too. Just your fucking luck. Somewhere, someone must be actively praying for your downfall because what do you mean you’re now stuck in the middle of the woods at night? You groan, angrily poking at the black screen of your phone when a voice calls out to you. 

“Hello. Are you lost?”

It’s a true testament to your strength, your bravery, your iron will, that you did not shit yourself at the sound of the voice. You look up at the tall stranger with wide eyes, noting that holy shit this man is gorgeous and you probably look like you’ve been crawling through all sorts of nooks and crannies all afternoon. Which you have been. So. 

“Hi,” you squeak. Okay. He doesn’t seem like an ax murderer, judging by his nice clothing…? Every bit of information you learned in those true crime podcasts you listen to has flown out of your brain, leaving you looking up at the stranger with your mouth parted.

The tall, dark, and handsome stranger looks at you for a moment before offering you a hand. “The town is that way,” he gestures somewhere to the left. “I’m… John.”

You mumble your name, taking his hand in a daze. Of course, you would meet an absolute Adonis on the worst day of your life (an exaggeration). You try not to swoon at his firm grip, or how he easily pulls you upright without so much as a sharp exhale. Whew. This is a man, you think dreamily, nothing like those slimy finance bros back in the city. Perhaps it’s your turn for a Hallmark movie romance. You, the city slicker with a hatred for the holidays, and this man, the local who’ll teach you the true meaning of Christmas. 

He repeats your name quietly, nodding. “I’m headed to town. We can walk together, if you want.” 

“I’d like that,” you respond, feeling breathless all of a sudden. Get ahold of yourself, you think desperately. You can’t fold for the first hot man that you see in the woods!

Your dreams of a budding romance, are crushed, however, when no further words are exchanged. Stealing glances at John’s (very handsome) side profile does nothing for your flushed cheeks, and his shy smile whenever he catches you staring makes you melt internally. The distant lights of the town coming into view make your heart sink. 

He appears to take pity for your plight and breaks the silence first. “Are you only visiting here?”

“Yeah,” you reply quickly. Too quickly. You swallow thickly, trying to play off your embarrassment. “I mean, yeah, My roommate just brought me along, so…”

“I see.” He nods. “How are you liking this place so far?”

“It’s like a Christmas village,” you say with disdain. The corners of John’s lips quirk up.

“I’m hearing some distaste in your tone.” He notes, amusement in his voice.

You scrunch your nose. “I don’t like Christmas.”

“Oh?”

“I just don’t like it,” you shrug. “You?”

John pauses, thinking for a moment. “I don’t mind it. I don’t think too much of it.”

“Pretty hard to do when it’s so… in your face,” you quip. 

“I’m good at focusing on what truly matters,” he says coolly, his gaze suddenly serious. Your cheeks feel hot again. 

“Oh. That’s nice.” You mumble, looking away, feeling strangely flustered. Are all handsome men just way too intense for their own good? “Are you a, uh, local?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, tilting his head towards you with a small smirk. “A local of the Christmas village.”

“It’s not a bad thing!” You laugh, caught off guard by his sudden teasing. “It’s just not for me, I’m sorry!”

He laughs with you, his deep voice almost melting into the cold winter breeze. Something inside you feels warm at the sight of his smile, and it’s not just because you think this man is hot. He doesn’t feel like a stranger, you think curiously. He feels strangely familiar, as if you’ve known the sound of his laughter for years. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that’s begging you to take his hand, to savor the warmth of his skin against yours and⁠—

“We’re almost there,” he states, looking straight ahead.

Oh. Right.

“Thanks,” you say softly, looking at him. “For helping me back there.”

John only shrugs, his features warmed by the light from the lamppost just straight ahead. “I have a knack for helping strays.” He smiles as if joking. “And I think you’ll find that you have a knack for being in the right place at the right time.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow. “‘Cause I met you, is that it?”

He gives you that smile again, as if he knows something you don’t. As if you should know what he’s talking about too. It should unnerve you, but it doesn’t. “Something like that.” 

The two of you eventually stop walking just in front of the stall selling mulled wine. “Well, this is me,” you say reluctantly. As charmed as you are by this man, you’ve retained enough of your common sense to not reveal just where exactly you’re staying for now. (If he wants to come up to your room for  a late night something, well… maybe you’re not totally against the idea.) “I’m gonna go walk around before I turn in for the night. You?”

“I’m meeting an acquaintance,” he replies, putting his hands in his pockets. Strange. He isn’t wearing gloves. 

“Good night, John.” You smile, reluctant to leave his side for some godforsaken reason. “I’ll see you around?”

“You will see me around the Christmas village, yes,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Good night, solnishko.”

Little sun. 

How do you know that?

You wave goodbye, dazed, watching as he disappears into the crowd. Your chest aches at the sight of him leaving, but you ignore it, deciding it’s time to turn in for the night after all. It’s been a long day of gallivanting, and getting lost in the woods did no favors for your poor feet. Sighing softly, you imagine the relief of finally taking off these godforsaken boots and warming up by the fire. You’re gonna sleep so good tonight.

Giving one last longing look in the direction John went, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever see him again. It’s just because he’s hot, you tell yourself. Yes, that’s just it. Nothing to do with how his voice makes your stomach do somersaults. 

(You will see him again, one way or another. Like John said, you have a knack for being in the right place at the right time, even when you don’t remember him. John only allowed the night to slip from his grasp knowing that the universe will inevitably bring you back to him, as it has many times before.)

(As it will continue to do so, for as long as your soul remembers him even when your mind does not. For now, John is determined to make you fall in love with him all over again until you have to leave.) 

John watches you walk to the local inn from afar, hidden in the shadows. So you hate Christmas this time, he chuckles to himself. That’s alright. So long as you still like him, he can make it work.

He’ll make it work.

post-fic yap: there we go!! i have never actually experienced snow in my life so i'm sorry if it's not super accurate :')) i really wanted to add some more stuff but my health has been in the dumps so i just did my best🥲 again, happy holidays! i hope i did your prompt justice🥹

[paige1722]

Silent Night

Summary: It is Christmas time in your village. The weather has taken a drastic turn, and everyone fears that the blizzard will never end. The people become desperate and willing to take any measures necessary to save themselves, even if it means sacrificing one of their own to a once-forgotten demon. 

Pairing: Krampus!Konig x GN!Reader

Warnings: Krampus, death, google translated German, violence. 

Merry Christmas!!! If you want to read an alternative version where the reader gets revenge, it’s here.

The village you call home resides in the middle of the forest, a few day's journey from the nearest town. This usually means nothing really exciting ever happens here; everyone knew one another, and nothing stayed a secret for long. This year, things had been different. The weather grew colder earlier than normal, the fields did not produce much food, and the hunting expeditions proved to be unsuccessful, with only being able to get small game, such as rabbits and squirrels.

The blizzard that came to the town a week ago did not seem to be lessening in strength; in fact, you even believe that it was getting worse with every passing day.  As you looked out of the window of your small cottage near the center of town, where you would usually be able to see your neighbors, the bakery, and the church in the middle of the town. But with the blizzard, you could barely even see your small garden in front of your doorstep that is now destroying your precious plants, and all the hard work you put into it over the spring and summer. The harsh wind caused the window panes to groan, and the snow kept piling up more and more. You wager that pretty soon, it will be impossible to leave your cottage. 

If it wasn’t for the small fireplace keeping your cottage cozy and warm all this time you are sure you would have already frozen to death in this horrible winter. A knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. Wondering who would be at your door so early in the morning, especially in this weather. Making your way to the front door, you open it to see Philip, the assistant to the village leader; opening the door more, he quickly makes his way inside after kicking off the snow from his boots. Once inside, he makes his way towards your fireplace placing his hand in front of the fire, trying to gain some feeling back into his joints. 

“Philip, what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” you asked, closing the door behind him and moving to stand in the middle of your living room. 

He turns around, placing his hands around his back to keep them in front of the fire; you are now able to get a better look at him. He looks thin, sickly almost. The food shortage must really be taking a toll on him, his face is unshaven, and his once nice thick animal fur coat has seen better days as it looks to have been ripped apart in some places and hastily sewn back together, surely a child you have done a better job fixing his jacket. 

“Yes, I have been tasked with letting everyone know that at noon today, there will be an emergency village meeting in the church. It is mandatory for everyone to be in attendance.” 

You feel your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. There had not been an emergency meeting called ever since you were a little child, and there had been a huge wildfire that nearly destroyed the entire village; a lot of lives were lost that day. “Oh, okay. By any chance, do you know what the meeting will be about?” 

At your innocent question, Philip squints his eye, looking at you up and down suspiciously, clenching his jaw and taking quick steps towards you. He points an accusatory finger in your face, causing you to step back at his fast approach. “It does not matter what the meeting is about. You are required to be in attendance, understand?” 

Your back hit the wall separating the living room from the kitchen; setting your hands flat against the wall to your back, you nod your head in shock, confused as to why he is acting this way. Philip was usually a kind man, not quick to anger. This was a different side of him you had never seen before and did not want to see again. “Yes, I will be there,” you reply in a shaky voice, startled by the sudden mood shift. 

Suddenly, like the drop of a hat, he steps back from you, smoothing down his jacket and giving you one of his signature smiles. Chuckling, Philip walks back toward the front door, his hand on the door handle when he looks back over his shoulder over at you, where you are still pressed up against the wall. “I look forward to seeing you at the meeting then,” he winks as he opens the door, letting himself out back into the cold. 

Once the door shuts, you let out the breath you had been holding, unsure why he was acting so strange. What does it matter if you were not going to attend the meeting? Though with his reaction at the thought that you were not going had him acting like that, you fear to think of what he would actually do if you failed to make an appearance. Not to mention, you are very curious as to the details of this emergency meeting; perhaps it was about food rations or the never-ending blizzard. You walk into your kitchen, planning to fix yourself a small breakfast, as you retrieve what little bread you had left from the bakery and some jam; this would have to do you until supper time after the meeting. The rations you were given earlier in the week dwindling faster than you would have liked. Sitting at the small table in the kitchen, you enjoy your breakfast, again thinking about the strange encounter with Philip and his sudden change in attitude and demeanor. After finishing your bread with jam, you decide to do some chores around your house to waste time until noon.  

—----

You glance at the small hand-carved clock on your wall. Seeing that it is a quarter past eleven, you make your way to your front door, putting on the thickest coat you own, your gloves, and winter boots. Opening the door and closing it behind you, you wrap your coat tightly around you, pulling up the collar to cover the bottom half of your face as you venture down the snow-covered stone path that leads throughout the village. You see your neighbors already making their way inside the church. Two men stand outside wrapped in thick fur jackets and hats, each holding lanterns to light the path to the church, a way to help people see through the thick snow falling from the sky. You trudge through the thick snow, carefully walking up the ice-covered steps to the entrance. The two men, who you now recognize as Simon and Johnny, who are the town’s butchers, open the massive doors. You mumble a quick thank you to the men and make your way inside the warm church. Not noticing the sympathetic look they send your way as you walk past them.

Looking around the massive sanctuary, a long line of lit candles operas on either side of the pew give the room an almost eerie glow. You realize you are one of the last villagers to arrive, seeing as most of the pews are already filled to the brim with people waiting for the meeting to start. You decide to sit in the back where there is still a little bit of space left, sitting next to one of your more elderly neighbors, you give a small smile in greeting, not having interacted with them much before. You take off your thick jacket and hang it on the back of the pew you were sitting on, and continue looking around the room. At the front, standing in front of the pulpit, stands Philip Graves, talking in hushed tones to the village leader, Shepherd. They look to be arguing, judging by the looks on their faces. Philip turns his head, looking near the door, when he makes eye contact with you, but instead of acknowledging you as he normally would in passing, he turns back to Shepherd, whispering in his ear, both of them now looking more relaxed than they were just mere seconds ago, another strange occurrence happening today, something in the air you supposed. 

The front doors slamming closed behind you cause you to jump a bit, turning around in your seat to see Johnny and Simon standing inside the church, placing the lanterns on the golden hooks on either side of the doors. Instead of finding a seat in the room, they move to stand in front of the doors, reminding you of guards to a prison cell. A throat clearing causes you to turn your attention back to the front of the church, where Shepherd now stands behind the podium with Philip by his side.

“Thank you all so much for joining us today for this emergency meeting. We know that things have been tough this year with the lack of game and crops and now this never-ending blizzard. But fear not, your village leader and others have come up with a solution that will surely save us all from this torment.” 

Applause erupts throughout the church at this news. For some reason, you feel a sense of dread overcome you at this news. Something about this whole situation does not sit right with you. Why is Philip staring at you so intensely? Why was it so important that you come to this meeting, and why are Simon and Johnny blocking the exit like that? All these questions run through your head, causing you to break out into a cold sweat. Shepherd once again starts talking, making everyone stop their applause. 

“Now, I know you all must be wondering as to what the solution to our problem is. Philip and I have been scouring the old texts, trying to find anything that might be of help to save our village from this ongoing turmoil. After a many sleepless nights, we finally came across this.” 

Philip holds up an old leather-bound book with a small bell engraved on the front; the pages look worn and old, as if it hasn’t been used in decades. Placing the book down in front of Shepherd, who continues his speech, “In this book, we discovered a chapter that describes exactly the events that are taking place before us today: no food, endless winter that ends in nothing but death for all of us unless we act now! This book tells of an ancient being, whose name shall not be uttered here, that is the cause of all this. Apparently, we have managed to anger him last Christmas during our festivities, and he is now taking it out on us. To appease his wrath, we must give him an offering. There was a list of rules that must be followed or else the offering will not work and just invoke more devastation upon us. After careful consideration, there is only one person who fulfills the demands.” 

Shepherd locks eyes with you, you feel your heart pounding in your chest, the room suddenly becomes too hot, sweat beads down your face. You see his mouth moving, but you can hear nothing over the ringing in your ears. Everyone in the conjugation is now staring at you, waiting for what you aren’t sure. Stumbling, you stand up, still facing the front of the church, and slowly begin backing up towards the door, but before you can make a run for it, hands wrap around your arms on both sides looking to see who has you in their grasp; you see Simon and Johnny with solemn looks on their faces. They begin dragging you to the front of the church. You try to pull your arms from their grip, but is it no use; kicking your feet, trying anything to free yourself,  tears flow freely from your eyes. You look around at the people of your village pleading with them hoping that someone, anyone, will help you, but as you make eye contact with the people you grew up with they simply turned their heads looking down at the ground a guilty expression on their faces. Reaching the front of the church, Philip grabs you from the grip of the two butchers; Simon whispers an solem apology in your ear as they hand you over to your inevitable demise. 

Your back is pressed against Philips's chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you, keeping you in place. He rests his chin on your head, “Tomorrow, everything will be back to normal once the demon has his offering! Return to your homes and await the glorious rewards that will be gifted upon us all!” He yells out, his chest rumbling against your back. You let out a whimper. as you watch everyone slowly rise from their seats and make their way toward the entrance of the church, leaving you with Shepherd and Philip. “Please don’t do this, there must be another way!!” you yell out desperation clear in your voice, but it is no use; the front doors slam shut as the last of the villagers return to their homes. 

Shepherd grabs a rope from his pocket and stands in front of you, “Ah fear not. Think about the good your sacrifice will bring to the people of this village, all the lives you will save.” His gaze moves towards Philip, “Take her to the back for them to get her ready.” He pulls your wrists together in front of yo,u tying them tightly together. Once the rope is secure, Philip lets go of you and grabs the rope, binding your hands together pulling towards the back of the church. Sniffiling you let Philip drag you down the dark hallways leading to the offices. Opening the door to Shepherd’s office, Philip throws you inside the room, causing you to fall, hitting the ground causing a shockwave of pain through your body from where your knees and elbows slam against the wooden floor. 

“Here, get them ready,” Philip says as he shuts the door on his way out. 

Pulling yourself to your feet, you see who he is talking to. Valeria stands in the center of the room, a bored expression on her face, her arms crossed in front of her chest. The room is empty, apart from a single chair and table in the middle of the room, a red silk robe, a veil, and two small boxes. Sighing, she steps forward, pushing you to sit in the chair in the middle of the room.

 Grabbing her arm, you try to plead with her, “Please, Valeria, you have to help me. They mean to use me as some sort of sacrifice to a demon, please.” She rips her arm out of your hands, slapping you across the face. A disgusted look crosses her features as she replies, “Shut up, your sacrifice is what is best for the village. So stop crying. You are only going to make this worse for yourself and ruin the work I am about to put into making you look presentable for him.” 

Your face now burning the slap, you sit in defeat, feeling all forms of fight leave your body; even if you did manage to escape from this room, there was nowhere you could go, the other villagers already showing you that they don’t care about you if you went back home they would just find you and drag you back to where you are now, and if you tried to run for it, you would surely die due to the elements. 

Valeria grabs the silk robe, scrutinizing at your hands that are still tied together, “No funny business, understand. Just put this robe on.” you solemnly nod in return; she grabs your hands and begins to untie them, placing the red robe in your hands. You stare at her, waiting for her to turn around so you can change, but you quickly realize that will not be happening. Trying to save the little dignity you have left, you take off your sweater, putting the robe on, hoping that she will let you keep your warm pants on but she snaps and points to your pants. “Just the robe. It is the rules.” Taking off your pants and placing them in the small pile of clothes on the ground, as you are done, she immediately grabs your hands, tying your wrists back together much tighter than they were previously.

Every movement you make now causes the rough fabric of the rope to rub against your skin. Looking down at the robe you are now wearing, you quickly realize how thin the fabric is. It is definitely not something you should be wearing during this kind of weather, probably to make it more convenient for the demon to kill or eat you. Valeria motions for you to sit back down in the chair with her hand as she opens one of the small boxes laying on the table inside was filled with small paints usually reserved for weddings and other important ceremonies, she begins to draw strange symbols upon your skin, leading from your face, down your arms to your chest. Once she is satisfied with her work, she reaches for the matching red veil, placing it upon your head; you are still able to see through the fabric of the red veil, though it does give everything a strange blurry tint. 

All that can be heard in the room is the occasional sniffle coming from you, trying to hold back any more tears from falling, knowing that Valeria would not be happy with you if you ruined the writing she had just finished putting on your skin. When the door opens and Philip and Shepherd both enter the room, “Are you finished yet?” asks Philip, walking to where you sit inspecting Valeria’s handiwork. 

“Just have to put on the necklace, and we are all set,” she says as she grabs the remaining box sitting on the table, opening it to reveal a beautiful golden necklace with a small pendant that looks very similar to the bell that was engraved on the front of the leather book that they were referencing during the emergency meeting earlier. She places the necklace around your neck, fastening it in the back and tucking it underneath the robe you were forced to wear.

 Everything started to feel too real at that moment. What was about to happen to you setting in, causing you to let out a whimper, but before you could begin pleading for your life, hoping to somehow change their minds, Sheppard pulls out a small piece of cloth, “Now we can’t have you making all that noise, the demon would not appreciate that.” He lifts up the veil, shoving the cloth in your mouth and tying it around the back of your head, effectively silencing you and placing the veil back over your face.

 Shepherd claps his hands together, taking a step back, “Thank you for your help, Valeria. Alright, Philip, grab them and let's go.” Philip grabs the rope around your wrist, dragging you off the chair, the rope squeezing your wrists, causing you to let out a pained gasp that is muffled by the cloth in your mouth. They drag you back out to the sanctuary of the church towards the front door, where you see Simon and Johnny once again holding the lanterns. Once you reach them, they open the doors for you all, dragged out in the snow wearing nothing but the thin robe the freezing air immediately making goose-bumps form on your skin, you let out an involuntary shiver, the ice, and snow covered ground causing your feet to burn with every step. Johnny and Simon now lead the way with their lanterns. Shepherd is in the middle of them telling them which direction to go in, with Philip following close behind, pulling you along with him into the dark forest. 

—-

Walking for what felt like hours, you can no longer feel your legs, you're pretty sure your wrists are now bleeding due to the rope rubbing against your skin, causing it to break. Every intake of breath hurts, the cold air burning your lungs and throat. As you all reach a clearing in the middle of the forest where only a single tree stands surrounded by small torches sticking out of the ground, everyone stops walking. 

Philip yanks you towards the tree, pulling out another rope from inside his fur jacket, and ties one end of the rope around the rope, holding your wrists together. Once secured around your bound wrists, he throws the other end of the rope around one of the lower hanging branches of the tree and pulls the rope until your arms are straining above your head and your toes are barely scraping the ground. You let out muffled groans of pain and fear. He secures the rope around the trunk of the tree, stepping back and joining Shepherd, who stands in front of you. Johnny and Simon are walking around to the torches, lighting them with the fire from their lanterns. Shepherd reading through the leather-bound book, a look of malice taking over his face, muttering to himself, “This time, we will get him.” 

Once the last torch has been lit, and all four men all standing in front of you, Johnny and Simon looking anywhere but your face. Shepherd says, “This is where we leave you. Thank you for your sacrifice.” before turning with the others and leaving you to your death.

 As you watch them all walk away, the light from the lanterns slowly fades away until you can no longer see it. You begin to try to free yourself from the tree. Tears run down your face and neck, causing the writing on your skin to smear, bleeding into the fabric of the robe tied around your body. You try and scream to the best of your ability, but the cloth in your mouth muffling your shouts sounds more like a wounded animal. Flailing around trying to somehow untie the ropes on the tree or your wrist, but all you end up accomplishing is tightening the knots, burying the rope farther into your skin, the blood from the open wounds on your wrists running down your arms. You are now sobbing uncontrollably, resigning yourself to your inevitable death, whether it be freezing to death, the demon or whatever it actually is killing you, or some wild animal finding you first. 

Running out of energy from the walk here, crying, failing around, screaming, and the cold that has turned your entire body numb, you begin to feel tired, struggling to keep your eyes open, thinking to yourself hopefully your sacrifice will not be in vain and the people of your town will be saved. Until, from the darkness, you begin to hear the distance sound of bells jingling closer and closer. Eventually, you hear the crunch of snow as if someone or something was walking towards you. 

You try and blink the tears from your eyes to clear your vision, but with the veil still covering your face, your vision still remains blurry, a huge figure emerges from the trees, standing nearly seven feet tall with twisted horns protruding from underneath the dark red hood covering his face and body. With every step it draws closer to you, you catch small glimpses of the jingling of bells hanging on a chain wrapped around his torso from underneath the red cloak. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, fear overtaking your body, causing your adrenaline to rise, once again trying to pull your arms free. He stops right in front of where you are hanging from the tree, even dangling in the air, the top of your head barely level with his chin. The soft glow from the torches circling you gives off an eerie glow to whatever is standing in front of you, his face hidden in the shadows of his hood, though you swear that you can see eyes staring right through you. Realizing that this is the end for you, you let out muffled whimpers, not caring how pathetic you must seem right now. 

“Warum bist du hier draußen?” The demon in front of you utters, staring at you expectantly for your answer. 

Even if you were somehow able to understand what he had just said, you would not be able to answer him anyway, so you just shake your head, replying with a muffled what. You see its head tilt to the side in confusion before a gloved hand reaches up and pulls the veil off your head. Your vision is no longer obstructed, and you are able to make out the being in front of you more clearly. A flicker of the light from the torches illuminated the masked man in front of you. 

The mask peeking out from under the hood had twisted horns sticking out of the forehead, where the eyes would be were two holes his eyes shining through the darkness, and the mouth was open with sharp teeth and a long red serpent-looking tongue carved onto the front of the mask, reminding you of the old stories your grandmother used to tell you when you were a small child of an ancient demon who arrived during winter to steal and punish the naughty children. Your eyes widen in realization, muttering, “Krampus.” Even with the cloth still in your mouth, he must have understood you, as you hear a small chuckle in return. 

“Ah, so you have heard of me then. It has been a while since I have been called that, just call me Konig.” His accent is thick as he speaks, reaching for the cloth impairing your ability to say. He pulls the fabric out of your mouth, letting it hang around your neck. “Now, let's try this again, ja. Why are you out here?” 

Sniffling and your teeth chattering because of how cold you are, you manage to say “They said I was supposed to be some kind of offering to save the village. I…I don’t know anything else.” Sobs rack through your body. Looking back up into the eyes of the demon before you, you notice that little black dots begin to swarm your vision, the ringing in your ears was back the cold, pain,  and everything was begining to seem so far away. Using the last bit of strength you had left before you passed out for what you assumed would be for good, you mumbled, “…I don’t want to die.”

Your head lolls backwards, causing the necklace to be pulled out from underneath the robe, catching the eye of Konig whose eyes widen at the pendant hanging from your neck. He quickly pulls out the hunting knife from its sheath on his belt as he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you from falling to the ground. He cut the rope around your wrists, your unconscious body falling forward into his chest. He feels the cold from your body seeping through his gloves and cloak. He removes the cloak from around his body and wraps you up in it as best he can to hopefully begin warming you up. He cradles you in his arms as delicately as he possibly can as he whispers to your sleeping form, “Es wird alles gut. Ich werde dich beschützen.” 

—---

You feel warm; whatever you're laying on is soft and fluffy. Peeking an eye open to take in the surroundings, you notice that you are on a bed of thick animal furs in some sort of cabin. The room you are in is small, with nothing really in it besides the bed, a small lantern placed on a bedside table, and a large mirror placed next to the door. You sit up in the bed, and you notice that your wrists no longer hurt, you look to find that both of your wrists are delicately wrapped in bandages. Hearing noise coming from the other side of the door, you pull back the furs covering you to slip out of the bed and make your way towards the door. Once you are standing, you look in the mirror so that you get a better look at the new outfit you are wearing. A red knitted sweater you now wear with black wool pants; examining your arms, face, and neck, you don’t see any traces of the strange writing Valeria placed on your skin. When the sounds of movement behind the door once again grab your attention. Walking towards the door, you slowly open the door walking out into what looks to be the main room of the house. 

Stepping out of the room, the first thing you notice is the Krampus or Konig you vaguely remember him saying is his name, he sits in the corner of the room with his back facing you, hunched over a crafting table lined with various tools on the wall. Along with the tools hanging on the wall, you see the mask Konig was wearing when he found you in the forest, placed gently on a small hook. 

As you walk further into the area you look around the room you are now in what you assume is the living room with the front door next to the small room you just exited, a window on the other side of the door, a small fireplace in the center of the room with a cozy chair facing it, two other doors on the opposite side where Konig sits, and a corridor that look as if it leads into what you assume in the kitchen. You let out a small hum, this house is much smaller and cozier than what you would have assumed an ancient demon who abducts and punishes bad children would live in. During your observation of the house, you failed to notice that Konig had stopped working and was now standing facing you, the mask back on his face. 

“I was starting to think that you would not wake up.” His voice startling you in the otherwise silent house. 

“How long was I asleep?” you ask tentatively, thinking that it was probably just a couple of hours, seeing that it was still dark outside, judging by the lack of light coming in from the window near the front door of the house. 

“A day, I feared your wounds and the cold was too much for you. I tried my best, but my powers are not usually used for helping people.” Seeing him in this light was very strange, even though he still towered over you, he seemed to be trying to make himself appear smaller, probably trying not to scare you, after all you think that you have had enough excitement for a lifetime.

You glance down at your wrists, then gently brush your fingers over the bandages. "Oh... um, thank you for helping me," you say quietly. "Does this mean... my village won't be saved after all? I didn’t think it was possible to fail at being an offering."

He lets out a cruel laugh at your question, his accent even thicker now. “Your village..” he spits out venom in his voice…”They are lucky that I just leave them to fend for themselves during this winter and that I don’t take revenge for what they have done to you by slaughtering them all. I have done more for much less.” 

Nervously, you absentmindedly bring your hand up to the jewelry that still lays around your neck, twirling the small bell pendant between your fingers, Konig’s eyes tracing your movements. “But..but why they said we had angered you last Christmas and this was the only way to put an end to the suffering you have plagued us with, the…book it said-” He cuts you off by walking towards you, his hand wraps gently around yours holding the necklace, careful of your wounds caressing your hand.

“I was not angry then but I am now, anyways that is not how I work. I do not know what lies they have told you, but I have no control over the crops, animals, or weather, that is not my doing.”

As he goes to pull his hand away you grab his wrist pleading with him, “no, that is not right. The only reason they left me out there like that was because the book said an offering to you would save the village. Why else would they do that to me?” you whisper the last part mostly to yourself, not seeing any other reason for the actions of the people in your village.

 You see his eyes soften from behind the mask, stepping closer his presence only a breath away from you now, cupping your checks and wiping away tears that you did not realize had fallen. “The book you speak of is an ancient book of an offering; this is to be given to me yes, but not for sacrifice or as a way to save a village from misfortune. It speaks of tying someone to me. Bonding their soul to mine forever. I do not know why but I assume they wanted someone to blame for their misfortunes, and I was it. By leaving you to me, writing the runes upon your skin…” his hands now trace your checks down your neck, and your arms where the writing was previously written, “ and wearing my necklace, and since I accepted the offering when I brought you back here with me, we are now linked together forever.” 

You stare into his eyes, looking to see if he is telling the truth, finding no lies within his eyes you take a deep breath, your head beginning to hurt with all this new information thrown at you. “I think I need to sit down for a moment,” you say in a breathless whisper.

 Konig guides you to the cozy-looking chair sitting in front of the fireplace, placing your head in your hands you lean forward, your elbows on your knees, closing your eyes trying to make sense of everything. Instead of being killed by Krampus like you originally thought you being a sacrifice for the good of the village and everyone in it, they tied your soul to his, making you his soulmate. No matter how long you thought about it you just couldn't make sense of it, how would this solve anything? Why would giving the being they thought responsible for all their troubles a soulmate solve anything. 

Lifting your head up from your hands you look up at Konig, who is walking back over to where you sit now holding a glass of water, he must have gone to the kitchen while you were deep in thought. He wordlessly hands you the glass of water, you take a long sip of water not realizing how thirsty you were until that moment. Gasping you say, “Thank you. But I still don’t understand how would this solve anything for the village then? Why would they essentially be rewarding you, if they thought you were the bad guy?” 

Taking the now-empty glass from your hands, he lets out a deep sigh. “Once your soul is bound to mine, I have a weakness. Through me, you will have an immortal life, not aging another day as I, but you are still human able to be killed, if you die, I die with you.” 

At the sudden news, you jump up out of your seat, craining your head to look up at him but before you could say anything, he adds “do not worry they cannot find you here. No harm will ever come to you, especially not while you wear my necklace. Plus, even if they somehow managed to find their way to my forest they would have to make it through the elves first, and they do not play nicely.” His eyes shine with a knowing look like he knows exactly what would become of anyone who makes there way here without his permission. 

Before you could say anything else your stomach starts growling, causing your face to feel warm with embarrassment. Konig lets out a chuckle, “Ah, how rude of me. You must be very hungry, ja. Let us get you some food. Come.” 

He reaches his hand out in front of you. You slowly place your hand in his, he gently pulls you to your feet and starts leading you down the corridor to the kitchen. Now that his hand is in yours, you can feel the rough callouses on his skin from years of use. Upon entering the kitchen, you did not expect to see the table already full of delicious-looking food, gasping you look at Konig in question, who simply shrugs his shoulder in response pulling out a chair at the table for you to sit at. 

“Do not be shy; have as much as you like.” He says as he sits on the seat on your right, making a plate for himself and piling it high with meat. You begin making your plate, putting a little bit of everything on it, wanting to try everything as most of the food before you is something you have never seen before. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Konig reach up and grab the mask obscuring his face and taking it off and place it in the spot next to him on the table. Your eyes rake over the scars on his face, he must have felt your gaze on him because he turns his head to stare at you. 

Giving you a sheepish smile, he apologizes, “I am sorry. I know I am not very nice to look at, but it is difficult to eat with the mask on.” 

Shaking your head, “No, you have nothing to apologize for. You just didn’t look how I expected Krampus to look; you are handsome.” 

Not knowing how to respond to your kindness, Konig just gives you a grateful smile before continuing to eat, you shortly following his lead. 

—-

You've been living with Konig for a few weeks now, and in that time, you've learned a lot about him. He makes toys—though they're unlike anything Santa would create—and the strange creations often come to life, causing chaos wherever they go. He's also started wearing his mask less frequently around the house, especially when it's just the two of you. Still, every now and then, a quiet worry creeps into your mind about the people in your village. You can't help but wonder if they managed to survive the blizzard and the food shortages.

Today, Konig was teaching you how to create snowglobes at his workstation. It turned out to be much more difficult than you’d expected, especially when it came to crafting the perfect sculpture to fit inside. Though you weren’t the best at it, Konig seemed to enjoy teaching you, and that made it all worthwhile.

“Look, Schatz,” he said with a proud smile. “It’s us.”

You stopped what you were doing and turned to see the small sculpture in his hands—a perfect replica of you and him, standing side by side. You gasped in awe. “Wow, that’s beautiful!”

Konig handed you the sculpture, and as you ran your fingers over the intricate details of the hand-carved masterpiece, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of warmth.

“I still have to add color, so I am not done yet.” He sheepishly adds, rubbing the back of his neck at all your praise.

Sudden bangs and the chaos of shouting erupted outside the house, the sounds of a violent struggle growing louder. Konig stands up, grabs your arm, and pulls you up beside him. He begins dragging you to his bedroom. Once inside, he gently places you in the middle of the room and grabs his mask off the nightstand where it usually stays now. 

“Stay here, Liebling, do not come out until I come back for you.” Even with his face now covered, you can see the concern for your safety reflecting in his eyes. 

Konig turns to leave the room, but before he can make it out of the door, leaving you behind, you run up behind him and grab ahold of his wrist, stopping him in his tracks, “Konig, what’s happening? Don’t leave me alone.” 

Pausinghe turns to face you, fully reaching up with both hands on your cheeks. He caresses your face, softly rubbing his thumbs over the apple of your cheeks, “Everything is going to be okay. Just stay here, please.” 

Staring into his eyes, wanting to beg him to stay with you and just let his elves handle whatever is happening outside, you know that he does need to go out there; he is Krampus, after all, and is more than capable of taking care of himself. You nod, your face still in his grasp. He leans forward but pauses as if he is second-guessing himself. Letting out a deep sigh from his chest, he put the mouth of the mask on your forehead before walking towards the door, giving you one last glance over, ensuring your safety before he leaves, and shutting the door to his room behind him. You can hear his heavy footsteps throughout the house, the front door open and closed shut, leaving you all alone in the house. 

The noise outside has yet to stop; maybe it was just your nerves, but you feel as if, every passing second, he is out there. Something bad could be happening, but you know he is a demon and only truly has one weakness. Which is why he told you to stay in his room, where he knows you will be safe. Trying to clear your mind from the turmoil outside, you begin pacing around his room, counting the number of steps it takes to walk from one corner to the next. You continue to do this for the next couple of minutes while all the noise outside seems to have died down, allowing you to hear some muffled yelling. Right now, you can only make out Konig’s voice, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go out into the living room so that way you can hear more of what is happening. 

Quietly, you open the bedroom door, the hinges squeaking, causing you to flinch. Wrapping your arms around your middle, you walk out into the living room towards the front door, placing your ear upon the cool wood. Konig is yelling at someone; his accent becomes thicker the angrier he gets, which sometimes makes him harder to understand. After a brief moment of punching sounds, you hear someone who sounds vaguely familiar, “You killed her, didn’t you, you monster!!” 

You gasp, covering your mouth. You throw open the door, rushing outside in the cold, not thinking about grabbing the fur jacket Konig made specially for you. You run down the stairs on the porch. You see Konig standing tall and menacingly in the yard. His elves are all lined up facing him. They are all holding weapons of some kind, looking as rowdy as ever, the bells on the chains wrapped around their body jingling in the wind. You run as fast as you can to where Konig stands, where two elves are standing out from the crowd holding two prisoners hostages, making them kneel before Konig. 

Sensing you, Konig whips around his body language, immediately softening at the sight of you, “Liebling, it is too cold for you to be out here.” By the time you reach him, he has already removed his thick red cloak throwing it over your shoulders and wrapping it around your body. 

You place your hands on his chest, bunching up his shirt in your grip, “No, Konig! Please don’t hurt them. They are from my village.” Motioning to where the two elves are holding a beaten and bloody Simon and Johnny. 

Johnny and Simon are drenched in blood, from head to toe, and you can only hope it’s not all theirs. Their arms are covered in cuts, and their faces are swollen and bruised from what looks like repeated punches. Chains are wrapped tightly around their upper bodies, and the elves standing behind them keep a firm hold, forcing them to kneel in the snow.

At the sight of you in Konig’s arms, Johnny and Simon struggle in the chains, causing the elves to tighten the chains, making them let out pained groans. 

Johnny speaks first, “You’re alive!! We went back to the forest that night to save you. Simon and I decided that we couldn’t just leave you out there to die, but when we arrived back at the sight, you were gone, nothing left but the rope.” Guilt fills his voice, looking at you for forgiveness. 

Simon moves to stand up, but the elf kicks his leg, causing him to fall back on his knees; looking over his shoulder, he glares at the elf, cursing under his breath. He tries again, jerking his shoulders forward to create some slack in the chain. Once standing, he takes a half step towards you; seeing this, Konig steps in front of you more, making you peek around his back to see what Simon has to say. 

“When we got back to the village and told everyone about how we were unsuccessful in rescuing you, everyone started rioting, blaming Shepherd and Philip, saying there should have been another way. They…they told Johnny and I that the book said there was a way to save you. We just had to find Krampus’s hideout and kill him.” Simon glances at Konig, seeing his protective stance around you, and begins rethinking everything he was told by the village leaders.

A loud clapping coming from behind all the elves draws everyone’s attention; Shepherd appears from the darkness, clapping his hands together slowly. Konig moves forward, growling, “What are you doing here?” 

Shepherd lets out a loud mocking laugh, “I told you before, Konig. I would get my revenge for what you did to my family. I have been planning my revenge for years. Did you not think I wouldn’t notice you watching them every year and becoming attached to them, so when I was finally able to get my hands on that necklace, I knew this was my chance.” 

Konig rolls his shoulders back, standing up to his full height, with hatred in his eyes. He watches Shepherd slowly walk closer to him through the elves who were anxiously waiting for the word to attack. “They were on my list. It is the rules, bad children, and adults who need to be punished. But they have nothing to do with this. Your quarrel is with me.” 

You move to step forward to take comfort behind Konig when you feel someone wrap their arms around you from behind, placing a knife at your throat. You fearfully shout, “Konig!” 

Hearing your cry for help, he turns around but pauses when he sees you in danger, his breath catching in his throat. “Let her go!” he growls. You have never heard him like this before; it sends a shiver down your spine. The elves are holding up their weapons behind Konig, ready to kill for you. 

A laugh rumbles from the chest of the person holding you, one that you used to enjoy hearing the sound of, but now it just sends a sick feeling to your stomach. Philip rests his chin on the top of your head, digging the blade into your neck, causing it to break the skin, a little trial of blood running down your neck. This causes Konig’s entire body to go rigid at the sight of it. He clenches his fists at his side, and you can see the gears turning in his head on how to rescue from his grip without hurting you. 

“You didn’t really expect us not to retaliate against you. I think us giving you a little soulmate was mighty nice of Shepherd and me. I mean, we even gave you some time together before sending in those two as a diversion…” 

He points the knife over at Johny and Simon before placing the knife back at your throat,  “So you wouldn’t suspect us, and we could just waltz on in here and grab your soulmate, killing them essentially killing you. But I really did not expect it to go so easily.” Philip laughs, tightening his arms around you. You silently plead with Konig to do anything. 

Shepherd, having made his way through the horde of elves, pats Konig on the back condescendingly, “Now you will know what it is like to lose everything, but you’ll be joining them shortly.” 

The chains around Johnny and Simon had slackened considerably due to the elves' concern for you and Konig’s safety. Simon used the slack of the chain to throw it around Shepherd's neck, pulling back into his hold. Shepherd’s hands immediately go to the chain around his throat, trying to keep it from choking him, but to no avail; Simon is not letting go, no matter how much he struggles. 

Philip removes the knife from your throat to point it threateningly at Simon, “HEY! You let him go now!” 

With the knife no longer about to end your life and Philip distracted, Konig sees the perfect opportunity to strike. Konig rushes forward, grabbing Philip’s hand that holds the knife, bending his wrist back with a sickening crack, causing him to scream out in pain, dropping the knife in the snow. Konig’s other hand wraps around Philip’s throat. He lets go of you in favor of trying to pry off Konig’s hands off his throat. You fall to the snow and crawl out of the way. One of the elves comes up behind you, pulling you in their embrace to keep you safe. Your head is pressed into their chest to keep you from seeing anything that is happening behind you. 

Konig now has both hands wrapped around Philip’s throat, lifting him into the air, his feet no longer touching the ground. Philip is clawing at his hands, gasping out for breath, his face turning colors due to the lack of oxygen. Konig leans forward, whispering in his ear, “Do not touch what is mine.” A loud crack resonates throughout the forest; Philip's hands fall to his limp, throwing his body down. Konig sprints to where you are cowering in the elf's grasp. 

“Liebling, are you okay? What hurts?” He places his hand on your back, trying to access any more damage on you. Feeling Konig’s comforting touch on your back, you throw yourself into his awaiting arms, tears flowing soaking into his shirt. 

“I was so scared; I thought they were going to hurt us.” you sob into his chest; he rubs your back soothingly as you try to catch your breath. 

The familiar sound of the bells jingling causes you and Konig to look over to where Shepherd now lays wrapped in the chains at the feet of Simon and Johnny, who hold both ends of the chains. “Should we kill him?” Johnny asks, looking at Konig. 

Konig stands up with you standing in front of him, wrapped safely in his arms, turning to face them both. “Nein, I have a better idea. Elfen bringen ihn in die Grube.” 

With their orders now given, a handful of elves move forward, snarling and laughing, grabbing the chains from Johnny and Simon and begin dragging Shepherd’s screaming body through the snow towards the pits. 

Konig walks to Simon and Johnny, stopping in front of them with you still with him. Simon looks at you, then Konig, “What are you going to do to us?” asks Simon, sighing regrettably. 

Reaching up and removing the mask covering his face, Konig puts one hand on both of the men's shoulder’s, “You both helped me. Distracting Philip, so I was able to act. Thank you. You are free to return to your village, become the new leaders, and do a better job than those two. Though I must warn you once you leave my forest, you are never to return, or else my elves will not be as kind to you next time.” 

They both nod their heads at Konig in agreement and turn to leave. The rest of the elves make a path for them to walk through, none of the elves messing with either man as per Konig’s wishes. However, it did not stop the elves from keeping a close eye on them until they were completely off their territory. 

Konig kneels down in front of you, placing his head against your stomach, “I was so scared when I saw you in danger. I thought I was about to lose you forever, and I panicked. I am so sorry.” he says, his voice muffled from being pressed against you. Running your hands through his hair, you move his head up to look at you. 

“Konig, you have nothing to be sorry for. I should have listened to you and stayed inside; it was all my fault. I am sorry, but thank you for saving me.” You pull him up and give him a hug. 

Leaning your head back, you look up at his face, staring into each other eyes. He slowly leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His breath fanning your face, standing on your tippy toes, you press your lips to his, feeling your lips on his. He immediately kisses back, placing one hand on the back of your head and pulling you closer to him. 

Cheering and laughter erupt in the background, causing you to pull away from each other. Seeing all the elves going crazy at the sight of you and Konig kissing causes you to throw your head back, laughing before you bury your face in his chest, making him laugh in return. 

“Come on, Liebling. Let’s go back inside.” 

—-

The next day, you and Konig are sitting cuddled up together in the living room in front of the fire, enjoying each other’s company. Konig stops rubbing your back and turns his body to face yours fully, his face full of nervousness. 

“If you want, you can go back to your village. I will understand if you wish to leave, and I will hold no grudges against you or the town. I….” you stop him from talking any further. 

“And if I want to stay here with you?” you ask, looking down shyly, scared that maybe he was saying all that stuff because he did not want you here anymore. 

He places his finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him, “then I will spend every day of our life together doing whatever I can to make you happy. Trying to prove to you how much you mean to me.” He leans forward, connecting your lips together in a kiss.

The warm glow of the fireplaces bathed you both in a soft, calming light, casting a peaceful aura over the room. Above the mantel, the snowglobe, Konig crafted, an intricate, perfect representation of the two of you, sat proudly. Its glass shimmered gently in the flickering flames, showing the love and care he put into creating it.

-------

masterlist

[lvis44]

Cabin Fever - Pt. 1 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Lewis being an ass, allusions to mental health struggles, 18+ MINORS DNI, not edited

Word Count: 5.6k+

Summary: He's your Sister in Laws best friend, you shouldn't even have to deal with him. Always seeming like a cocky arrogant prick, and now here he is crashing your family Christmas. Can you handle a full week of Lewis Hamilton? Or might he not actually be as bad as he seems?

Notes: Here is the beginning of my mini holiday series. A little bit of cheesy hallmark style enemies to lovers for your winter season! It will pickup quickly and I don't expect it to be too long but I'm excited to write some over dramatic cheesy angsty fluffiness! Best believe we will have it all lol

As always, I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy!

“Hey Y/N, everything is all set for when you land tomorrow! Dylan got you a rental car so you can go out whenever you want, it’s a bit of a drive from the airport but it’ll be so cozy once you get here! Oh my god I can’t wait, this whole thing is a dream come true.” Vanessa's voice cut through your voicemail loudspeaker as you applied your makeup. You were getting ready for a night out with your friends when you saw your sister in law's voicemail, you knew you couldn't ignore it, you knew she was in the middle of planning the family Christmas vacation, the one you were immensely dreading.  You decided on sending her a voice note back, not wanting to deal with the full three hour phone call that would ensue, making you late to your friends party.

“Hey V, thank you so much, and tell Dyl thank you too, I appreciate you guys figuring out the flights, let me know what I owe you guys later, I can’t wait to see you guys.” You say into your phone with forced enthusiasm, not wanting to go to the gathering in the first place. 

You grew up in New England, the winter season always took a toll on you. You didn’t like to ski or snowboard so once you were no longer a small child, the only thing that winter brought was shoveling and grey skies, both of which you hated. Once you were old enough and had enough money, you decided to move to the golden state, LA specifically, somewhere you would never see snow in your driveway again. Unfortunately your brother had remained glued to the winter life, settling down in snowy Colorado where he decided that his first family home needed to be celebrated by all. You couldn’t blame him really, it was bigger and nicer than anywhere you had ever lived. He and Vanessa were desperate for their first guests, eager to show off their beautiful new house and host both of your families at once. It seemed like a brag for Vanessa while your brother seemed to be in awe by the size of house they had moved into.

When you arrived at the club your friends were already deep, a few drinks ahead of you and in a much more playful mood than you were feeling. You were doing your best to let loose and have a good time but the nagging knowledge of your flight the next day was sitting heavy in the back of your brain. You were only half listening to one of your friends gush about some attractive man she was eyeing when you felt your phone buzz, a text from your brother Dylan to remind you of your flight as if it wasn’t the only thing you were thinking about already. You excused yourself as you headed to the bar in search of a new drink. While you were waiting a man appeared beside you, closer than you would have liked. You could smell the liquor on his breath before he even started speaking to you.

“Pretty girl having to buy her own drinks? Now this is just ridiculous.” He tried to flirt with you, his words slurring as they came out.

You forced out a polite laugh, before turning back to the bar, hoping the bartender would come soon.

“Oooh I see, she’s playing hard to get.” He said as if to someone else before he leaned closer to you. “C’mon lemme buy you a drink.”

“Doesn’t need you to, she’s got me, fuck off dude.” The voice came from behind you, immediately recognizable, Lewis. You wanted to roll your eyes, not particularly wanting to deal with him tonight but deciding he was better than the man that was currently ogling you.

“Shit, fine alright man, my bad.” The drunk man fumbled his words, seeming slightly startled and rather intimidated by Lewis. He started to stumble away, impressing you by how quickly he gave up but you couldn’t really blame him, Lewis had a certain aura about him that really told you not to mess with him.

As the drunk man left you felt Lewis take his spot next to you at the bar, not bothering to look at him, not really wanting to interact with him at all. You only knew Lewis through your sister in law Vanessa, they were family friends so he was around for important moments, holidays, birthdays, weddings etc. Those were the only times you ever interacted with him and every time you had left with a bad taste in your mouth. He seemed aloof, cocky, like he thought he was too good for the rest of humanity. He was annoyingly attractive and he knew it, you’d overheard him spitting game at more than a few women at your brother's wedding, and almost every single one of the women was falling for it. He had a way of carrying himself that just oozed arrogance, like everything about him was a level above everything and everyone else. You also had a certain distaste for the fact that every time you spoke to him he seemed to find a way to belittle you, talk down to you in a way that made you feel like a child despite being a fully grown woman. You had figured that you would be seeing him at some point this upcoming week, knowing Vanessa would have invited him for some part, but you didn’t think it would be at home in a club in LA that you first bumped into each other, never having done so before.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Colorado?” He asks, his voice already holding that familiar layer of judgement that you’ve grown to despise.

“Flights tomorrow morning.” You tell him, keeping it short, hoping the conversation doesn’t need to be much longer than necessary.

“Flight in the morning and you’re out at a club?” He quizzes you and you can hear in his voice that he’s getting ready to offer you advice you really don’t want or need.

“Just wanted to blow off a little steam before a week in paradise.” You huff, waving to the bar tender yet again, not meaning to let the last part slip so sarcastically.

“You act like we’re locking you in a dungeon and throwing away the key.” He almost chuckles before downing the rest of whatever had been in his cup.

“We?” You ask abruptly, finally turning to look at him. You had been anticipating seeing him but the way he said that made it sound like he was going to be around quite a bit more than expected. It truly pissed you off that the second you finally faced him, you were checking him out, such a pretty face with such an annoying attitude.

“I’ll be in Colorado for the week.” He said plainly with a shrug.

“At Dylan and Vanessas?” You asked in an almost panicked tone that he immediately noticed.

“Jeez, chill out, I’ve got my own place out there. Little miss perfect won’t have to worry about mean ol’ Lewis all week, I’ll just be around here and there.” His tone was teasing as he said it, making you roll your eyes, unsure of how else to respond. Before you could think of anything to say the bartender finally arrived in front of you, Lewis was ordering something before elbowing you, prompting you to tell the man what you wanted.

“You’re welcome by the way.” Lewis said, his voice smug as the bartender walked away.

Once again you found yourself rolling your eyes before forcing yourself to thank him for the drink, “Thank you, but you didn’t actually have to buy me a drink.”

“Your eyes are gonna get stuck like that if you keep rolling them that hard.” He told you, an unamused look on his face.

“You sound like my father.” You grumbled.

“Well maybe he has a point,” He shrugged, “but I wasn’t talking about the drink, was talking about your stupid drunk man. Gotta find better company.”

“I didn’t exactly invite him over here, Lewis. And I didn’t ask for you to come rescue me.” You snapped.

“Well you're V’s sister in law now and she's my little sis so I kinda had to.” He stated plainly as the bartender finally returned.

You watched as Lewis turned on his charm for the man, thanking him and giving him a generous tip, showing the side of the man that everyone else seemed to see all the time, one that he never reserved for you.

“Enjoy your drink and then go home, don’t miss your flight because you were out partying or show up hungover. Just get yourself there in one piece, that’s literally all they ask of you.” His words are directed at you again, coming out with an assumed authority that baffles you.

“I’m a grown woman Lewis, I’ll be just fine.” You bite at him, annoyed that he thinks he has the right to tell you what to do.

“I know Y/N, I know.” He says with a sigh as he grabs his drink. You watch as he steps around you, leaving back into the crowd without even a proper parting word. It once again causes you to roll your eyes before making your way back to your own friends.

“Okay, hot man at the bar, do you know him?” Your friend Lillian was leaning on you almost immediately, digging for info on Lewis that second you were within earshot.

“Uh, kinda, not really, he’s kind of an ass.” You tell her, hoping to dissuade her.

“Well with a face like that he can be an ass to me anytime he wants.” She says enthusiastically.

You just humm in response, returning your attention to your drink, not really wanting to further discuss Lewis and his annoying ways or aggravating beauty. His words about not missing your flight bounce around in the back of your head, of course you had already been aware of not being late but now it was all that was on your mind. Between his words and Dylans reminder you suddenly felt as if everyone was expecting you to flake, not actually convinced you were going to show up at all. Before you could even finish your drink you were deciding to leave, truly not in the party mood any longer. As you made your way to the door you just knew he was watching you, you could feel it and you hated that he was getting the confidence of seeing you do exactly what he told you to.

. . . 

Your morning had been hell, your flight having been delayed three times due to incoming weather. When you finally landed in Colorado you were well and truly in a cranky mood, one that only turned even further sour when the woman at the rental agency got snappy with you for being late for your pickup. You had tried to explain to her that your brother had made the reservation and that your flight was delayed but her attitude did not budge. She remained snippy with you as she grumbled about ‘finding you something to take’ before handing you the keys to a tiny sedan. When you approached it in the lot you were at your wits end, it's not that you needed something fancy or luxurious, it was the fact that the car you were looking at seemed as light as could be and evidently still had summer tires on it. There was a big winter storm brewing and you knew you still had at least a 45 minute drive to your brother's house, one that you hadn’t been looking forward to anyway. The snow was already coming down as you sat in the parking lot waiting for the car to warm up at least enough to defrost the windshield, you listened to the man on the radio talk about the incoming storm, saying it was set to be the biggest snowfall the area had seen in years and it was going to come down quick. You couldn’t help but grumble to yourself about your displeasure for the snow  as you texted your brother to let him know that you were getting on the road.

The storm thankfully decided to be merciful, only really beginning to pick up in the very last stretch of your journey, barely even causing any delay for you. When you got to your brother's house you could feel yourself letting out a sigh of relief, knowing that soon enough you would be inside a warm and cozy house with the people that you love, hopefully eating good food and having a cocktail. The moment your brother opened the front door you were met with the smell of a fireplace and something cooking for dinner, your tension slipping away just a bit more.

“Y/N! Thank god, I was getting worried when I saw the snow picking up.” Dylan said cheerfully, pulling you into the house to give you a tight hug.

“Hi Dyl, it’s definitely getting heavy out there but I think I missed the worst of it.” You can’t help but laugh slightly at how tightly your brother has embraced you.

“Come in, V’s got dinner going, Dad was just getting ready to make a round of drinks.” He rambles to you as he pulls you further in the house, reaching around to grab your suitcase off the porch.

“The Holidays can now begin, my other baby has arrived!”  Your moms voice carries loudly from the kitchen before you see her almost jogging in your direction, her arms wide ready for an embrace.

“Mom,” you laugh as she squeezes you even tighter than Dylan had, “you knew I was coming. Sorry I’m late guys, the airport was insane.”

“Sounds like you could use a drink Kiddo.” Your dad is next to pull you into a hug, not even having made it out of the foyer yet.

“I will take you up on that, I also need to change into something a little warmer, I dressed for cold LA not Colorado.” You admit as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, making you feel like a child.

“Yeah for sure, let me show you your room and then you can come say hello to everyone in the kitchen once you've changed.” Dylan says, grabbing your bag and already making his way up the stairs.

“This place is beautiful, Dylan.” You tell him earnestly as you follow him down the long hallway. It’s everything that you would imagine if someone told you they had purchased a Chateau in Colorado, deep exposed wood, high ceilings, massive windows. You were excited to see the rest of it, knowing Vanessa would be adamant about giving you a full tour. It was much too big for what they needed but you figured that didn’t matter as long as they were happy.

“Thank you, it’s really a dream come true. Never thought I would live in a place like this, much less own it.” He confesses as he swings open the door to a room at the end of the hall.

You offer your brother a warm smile before you turn to take in the room, suddenly stunned when you see the size and luxury of it. The room is expansive, massive windows on two walls and what appears to be a large balcony off the back. There is a sitting area in front of a fireplace and what appears to be a king size bed in the middle of the room. You can see another door off to the side and you can only assume it is a private bathroom.

“Dylan what the fuck? Why does it look like the master suite?” You ask him, overwhelmed, not having expected anything so grand.

He just shrugs with a smile as he steps further into the room, placing your luggage down next to the bed. “We just wanted you to be comfortable, we know this year has been hard for you and winter isn’t something you get along with, we’re just grateful you decided to come.”

“Dylan, I am not kicking you guys out of your room, oh my god.” You start to panic, immediately feeling guilty.

“No, you’re not,” He laughs at you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “this is a guest suite, it's just the nicest of them.”

You let out a breath before feeling guilty again, “No what about mom and dad, or Beatrice and Tom, they should be in here, I just need a bedroom, this is too much.”

“Stop, everyones already settled, and we all agreed that you should have your own space, away from the rest of us. It only seemed fair.” His voice is sincere, not giving you any time to rebuttal before he is leaving the room and telling you to get changed.

By the time you make your way back downstairs everyone has settled in the den with drinks in their hand. You had to wander a bit at first, following the sounds of voices and laughter. The room was cozy, still sprawling but the lights were dim and the furniture was plush. You could hear the storm truly picking up outside, the trees snapping back and forth in the wind outside the window making you grateful for the fire crackling in the corner.

“Perfect, Y/N, I have a drink ready for you right here!” Vanessa called to you as you walked into the room.

“Thank you so much, this place is beautiful.” You tell her as you settle into the seat beside her, taking the drink and giving her a small hug.

“Ugh, thank you, this place is just such a dream come true, straight out of a fantasy.” She gushes immediately, promising to give you a tour once you've had some time to relax.

“Y/N, good to see you, feels like it's been a while.” Tom, Vanessa’s father, speaks up from across the room, raising his glass of whiskey in your direction. You offer him a smile, feeling a moment of guilt wash over you, knowing you had been invited to a few celebrations where your paths would have crossed but had decided against attending.

“She’s a busy woman, always nice to have her around when we get the chance.” Dylan pipes up, offering you a subtle save, knowing you probably don’t want to get too much into your personal life at the moment.

The conversation thankfully moves on, Tom choosing to change direction and grill Dylan on everything that is going on for him with his company, ever protective of Vanessa even now that they're married and in this beautiful home. Your mother on the other hand chooses to come sit next to you and Vanessa, Beatrice following her shortly thereafter. They do ask about your life in LA but Vanessa's mother is more interested in hearing if you’ve had any celebrity sightings than she is about your woes in life. Your mother wants to show off photos of art projects she’s been doing to keep herself busy. You can’t help but laugh at the two older women as you settle into the evening, nursing your drink as you share amused glances with Vanessa every once in a while. Every so often you hear the wind outside pick up, the storm casting a white haze over the large window at the end of the room. When you hear the doorbell you glance around the room, unsure of who would still be yet to arrive, especially so late and in the storm. Vanessa looks confused as well, Dylan getting up to go check the door.

“Hey man, didn’t expect to see you for another day or two.” You hear Dylan greet someone enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I caught an earlier flight out trying to avoid the storm and ended up landing smack in the middle of it. Wasn’t sure if I’d be able to make it back this way in the next few days so I figured I’d stop on my way out to my house.” The familiar British accent carries through the house, Vanessa's face lighting up as she darts up from her seat, ready to go greet her friend.

You feel yourself deflate slightly, having been enjoying the casual and kind air of the evening, knowing his presence would definitely cause a difference. You hear their voices approach from down the hall, Tom and Beatrice standing up, excited to see the man they have long adopted as a son. You always wondered if part of Tom was disappointed that Lewis and Vanessa hadn't ended up together, merely from the way that Tom's attention would end up solely on Lewis when he was around, almost entirely ignoring your brother. 

“Son, always a pleasure. How was your flight?” Tom asks the moment Lewis appears in the room, pulling him into a fatherly hug.

“Good to see you, sorry to pop in unannounced.” Lewis starts politely, turning on the charm toward Beatrice.

“Never worry, you’re always welcome.” She gushes, so happy to see him. It does make you laugh to yourself, it’s not her house to extend the invitation to but you’re not surprised.

He gives her a warm smile before continuing, “Yeah, flight was alright, a little choppy but nothing too bad. The airport here was a disaster though, glad I’d left my car there, the rental lot was picked through and cabs aren’t taking anyone past town.”

“Yeah, Y/N was saying the airport was crazy, I think she got the last rental car on the lot.” Dylan says, suddenly making Lewis aware of your presence, his eyes snapping to you.

“You remember Dylan's little sister,” Beatrice begins before Lewis is politely cutting her off.

“Y/N, of course,” He nods at you in what seems a kind way before the jab lands, “good job making it here.”

To everyone else it sounds like a comment about the storm but you know, you can see in his eye that he's referencing your conversation the prior night. His comment about everyone wanting you to just show up, it makes you think about Tom's comment when you first sat down, everyone knows you are the weak link. Before you can even respond, Vanessa is ushering him further into the room, annoyingly placing him where she had been sitting, directly next to you. She wanders away, headed to make Lewis a drink, completely unaware of the tension she sat next to you.

“You just get here?” Lewis asks, surprising you that he’s bothering with conversation at all.

“Few hours ago.” You say simply, turning your attention to watch the snow swirl in a mesmerizing dance.

He just nods, following your gaze to the window. 

Before anyone has a chance to say anything else, Vanessa is returning with Lewis’ drink and announcing to everyone that dinner is ready. Lewis begins to protest, not wanting to intrude on a family dinner but everyone else is quick to shush him, telling him they would love for him to stay. Shortly thereafter you are all seated around a beautiful table, Lewis sitting directly across from you, a delicious looking meal placed in the center. Tom takes a moment to thank Vanessa for inviting everyone and being such a wonderful host, gushing about his daughter as he forgets to mention Dylan for even a moment. As the bowls get passed around the table you can’t help but notice that Lewis is ignoring almost everything that is placed in front of him, passing it along without a moments thought. By the time everyone is served you notice that his plate is only a salad, it makes you want to scoff, not even during his off season will he let himself indulge in something, too focused on his physique. You stay relatively quiet throughout dinner, just listening to everyone else chatter, it’s not until your mom asks Lewis what he has been up to since the season ended that you are caught off guard.

“I spent the last week in LA, needed some sun before winter.” He tells her, causing wires to connect in her brain.

“Oh! Y/N lives in LA, what a coincidence, I’m surprised you two don’t see each other more often.” The excitement in her voice makes you laugh as you quickly go to shut her down, not even registering that you had in fact seen him just the night before.

“Mom, it's a massive city-” You laugh.

“Well we actually saw each other last night.” Lewis says at the same time as you, stopping you in your tracks. He’s staring right at you as he takes a casual sip of his water before he glances around the table.

“Really?” Tom asks, leaning in like this is the news of the year.

“Oh come on, you didn’t tell them?” Lewis laughs, it’s hollow, not like the warm laugh you’ve heard directed towards other people. He knew you wouldn’t have mentioned it, he’s enjoying being the one to let everyone know you were out partying the night before family holiday.

“I mean, no I didn’t, but it’s not like it’s common.” You stutter out, weirdly flustered all the sudden.

“Yeah, ran into her out with some of her friends at a club last night, had to save her from a creepy drunk guy who didn’t want to leave her alone.” He tells the table casually, settling back into his seat.

“Well I’m glad you were there Lewis, I worry about her when I hear about her going out like that. This world is just getting too dangerous to be out flaunting yourself like that.” Your dad pipes up, making you whip your head in his direction.

“Dad, I wasn’t-” You begin to argue before getting cut off by Lewis.

“It wasn’t her fault. She was just there, shouldn’t have to hide away just because she’s a woman.” Lewis says firmly, looking at you again as if to seal his words, catching you off guard by defending you.

“Thanks.” You silently mouth in his direction. He doesn’t acknowledge it, carrying on with his story instead.

“But yeah, the guy left pretty quickly, he was harmless. I was surprised to see her though, figured she would already be here. I was glad to see you left when you did, with your flight this morning and all.” He continues.

“You were out too.” You quickly fire back at him, not enjoying the embarrassment in front of your family.

“Had a later flight than you,” He simply shrugs, a smirk forming on his face, “How was this morning, rough one?”

“My only issue this morning was the weather, thanks.” You say, a snip in your tone.

“Glad to hear it.” He says, getting comfortable in his seat as he thankfully changes topics. 

Thankfully the awkward air that had settled over dinner dissipated quickly and before you knew it Lewis was saying that he needed to get going, still needing to drive another hour to his own house. There was no hesitation before Vanessa and Beatrice were telling him to spend the night, not enjoying the idea of him travelling in the weather at night. You noticed his eyes flicker to you as he started to turn them down, part of you wondered if he was doing it because he told you he wasn’t staying with them but you doubted he was being that thoughtful. He stayed strong, adamant that he would be fine and that he really wanted to settle into his own place but that he would be back later in the week.You feel a certain relief as you see him finally manage to say his goodbyes, bundling up in his long woolen coat as he makes his way out the door. You can hear the wind when he stepped out the door and you did worry that his drive would be far from enjoyable but you didn’t feel like hanging out with him much longer. 

As you helped clear the table you noticed something on the ground, right below where Lewis had been sitting. You put down the plates in your hands with a huff, reaching down to grab what turned out to be a wallet. You internally groaned, of course he dropped his wallet, of course you found it, it would be wrong to send him on his way without it, especially in this weather. You let out a sigh, jogging to the front door, hoping he hadn’t left yet. When you pulled the front door open you were shocked, you almost couldn’t see the front steps mere feet from you.

“Holy shit.” You muttered to yourself, grabbing the nearest pair of boots by the door, haphazardly throwing them on in hopes of catching Lewis.

When you cautiously made your way down off the porch, wading through the rather deep snow that now covered the path to the driveway, you saw him clearing the snow off his car. His jacket was blowing in the wind and he had an arm up to shield his face from the blowing snow, much like you yourself did. You let out a sigh of resignation, there’s no way you could let him drive an hour in this, no matter how badly he got on your nerves. You continue to make your way toward him, snow falling into the borrowed boots making you wince.

“Lewis,” You call out to him, “what the hell are you doing?”

He turns toward you, a confused look across his features, “Cleaning off my car, what do you need?”

“I can see that,” You say as you get closer to him, rolling your eyes at his answer, “I mean why the heck are you trying to drive home in this? Just come back inside.”

“Came all the way out here to save me? I’ll be fine, you seemed pretty worried that I was staying here the other night.” He says, turning back to his car.

“Actually I came out here because you dropped your wallet.” You say plainly, not enjoying his attitude but catching his attention again.

“Shit, thanks.” He extends his hand, waiting for you to hand it over.

“No, you’re insane, just grab your bag and come back inside. You annoy the shit out of me but I don’t particularly want you dead on the side of the road.” You shake your head, stepping back from him to prove that you’re not handing his wallet over until he turns his car off and comes inside.

“Well that's nice to hear.” He says sarcastically.

“You dying right before Christmas would kind of ruin holidays for me forever, V would be distraught.” You throw at him, it being partially true.

“Fine.” He concedes through a huff, his shoulders slumping as he trudges to his car door to kill the engine.

You watch as he grabs his bag from the backseat before making his way toward you, gesturing impatiently for you to go so he can follow you back to the house.

“Besides, now I’m the hero that convinced Mr. Perfect to stay, I basically just saved your life.” You say teasingly over your shoulder as you start your way up the steps. You’re too focused on your own dig and not enough on the slippery stairs, your feet almost coming out from under you. Much to your embarrassment, Lewis is there with a steadying grip on your arm.

“Just saved my life and then tried to break my neck by falling on me.” He mutters, letting go of you once you're stable.

“Give me a break, I’m pretty sure I’m wearing Dylan's boots.” You argue, pulling away from him harshly.

The moment you are inside he is being swarmed by your family again, all so happy he has decided to stay the night, no one even paying attention to the fact that you’ve come inside with him. Dylan is quickly showing him to his room for the night, apologizing that it’s not very fancy. You decide to slip away up to your room, having gotten rather cold and wet in your time outside. The whole time you’re getting ready for bed you’re telling yourself that it’s only for the night. You won’t even notice that he’s here and he will be gone tomorrow when the storm has passed. That hope lasts very briefly until you hear a knock on your door. You naively swing the door open, assuming it's someone to come say goodnight, and there he is.

“What the hell do you want?” You groan.

He doesn’t respond, he just pushes off the doorframe pushing past you into your room as he lets out a long whistle.

“This might actually be nicer than my bedroom at home.” He says, still ignoring your question as he looks around the room.

“Yeah it’s beautiful. What do you want?” You ask again, eager for him to leave so you can climb under the blankets.

“So pushy,” He chuckles, turning back to you, “I believe you have something of mine?”

“Right.” You say flatly, moving past him to the dresser where you had thrown his wallet that had still been in your pocket.

“How much did ya take?” He asks after you hand it to him, flicking it open as if to inspect that all his cards are still there.

“Not nearly enough.” You grumble, sitting down on the end of the bed.

He just chuckles, taking another glance around your room before walking out of your room without a word, something he seems to be making a habit of. You groan when you see that he’s left your door wide open, reluctantly making your way off your bed.

“He’ll be gone tomorrow.” You mutter to yourself as you lean against the now closed door, and you can only pray it's true.

[hyuukais]

finally found

After years of radio silence and unresponsive calls, you had come to the sad conclusion that you just didn’t have a soulmate. No matter how hard you tried to find them, no one ever showed. That is until you suddenly find yourself in an unfamiliar place, shivering in the snow.

word count: 1.4k

genre: soobin x reader, soulmate au!, some fluff, some angst

warnings: none except they do kinda discuss how the idol industry is very overbearing and manipulative (in the context of soulmates)

a/n: guys i miss soobie boobie sm 😔😔 i wrote this instead of studying for my exams,,,,i really hope he’s resting and had a wonderful birthday spending time with his family. also big big big thank you to @gyumibear for beta-reading this and catching all of my great sleep-ridden typos 🫶 ur comments made me so happy, got me kicking my feet and giggling fr 🤭

Soft white dots the length of your hoodie, settling along your shoulders. Cold wind whips against your cheeks with a vicious fervor. Your fingers twitch at your side. Suddenly exposed to the frigid winter air, chills ripple through your skin. Barren trees dance around you as your senses slowly return. Shock and alarm take root in your stomach, looking around at the unfamiliar place you now find yourself in.

One moment you’d been curled up in the library, nursing a lukewarm coffee and desperately trying to memorize a semester's-worth of notes in a single sitting. Suddenly, you felt it. That desperate tug of your heart calling for you far, far away. Your soul being stretched from your body, frantically searching for its mate. Chest lurching forward as warmth broke out across your skin, you felt weightless and heavy all at once. You were no longer just one mind; two hearts beat in rhythm beneath your chest. The sensation had only ever been described to you before. Whispered wistfully from friends and family alike; speaking with a reverence that could rival prayer. Recounting the way they felt their heart joining with another; how it felt like, for the first time in their life, they were finally whole. It was a wonderful thing to be called by your soulmate, to be needed by them. For most, it happened by the time you were eighteen.

Your teenage years had come and gone with not but a peep, and as your eighteenth did the same, the sobering realization started to set in. With each year passed since then, any festering hope slowly melted away. No matter how you called, no response ever came. No matter how you searched, no one ever showed. At some point, you simply resigned that you were without a soulmate. You learned to live with that fact; even if you wanted that love, you would never have it.

Yet, here you were. Where once you were cramming for exams, you now stood in the middle of a quaint, little lawn slowly succumbing to the snow. Your heart thumped wildly against your ribs, still coming down from the adrenaline of jumping. Erratically taking in the scenery around you, your eyes land on the equally bewildered man staring back at you. Your heart stutters as you take in the sight of him. A pair of thick-rimmed glasses balanced precariously on his nose framed by fluffy black hair. His cheeks looked soft, and full, and, even in their wide state, his eyes glittered like constellations. He was beautiful. He was your soulmate. His heart called to you, to be loved, to be one.

“You…” The words slip from your lips in a breath as if you might shatter him with any noise. As if this was a dream you would soon wake up from.

He approached slowly as though you were a wild animal. Taking each step with unprecedented caution.“I-I…you…” He stopped a few feet from you, hair beginning to gather with snow. Flakes dusted his cheeks, stark against the blush overtaking them. Cute.

You took a step forward, forcing yourself to be brave. “We’re…”

“...Soulmates.” His words felt like an affirmation. A promise this was real, he was real.

His eyes were like coming home, like being melted in a mug of hot chocolate; warm, safe, familiar. You couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Slowly, you push a jittery hand forward, closing the gap between you.

“I-I’m Y/n.”

For a moment, his eyes break away to stare at your outstretched hand, mystified, before hesitantly taking it in his own. His long fingers envelop yours and, despite the cold sinking into your bones, the touch sends fire through your veins. You finally understand the reverence, the holiness of this moment, as it blooms in your chest. Like finding the final puzzle piece, a part of you you didn’t even know you were missing. Like your heart can finally beat on time, like your lungs can fill to the brim. Your eyes widen in tandem at this new euphoria, fingers clutching tighter.

“I’m…Soobin.” His voice melts like honey. You can't help but smile.

“Soobin…Soobin.” It tastes like sugar on your tongue, like vanilla and peppermint. “I thought…I would never find you.”

A clear wince runs across his face stirring a confusion in you. He avoids your eye as your brows furrow.

“Would…” His adam's apple bobs with a thick swallow. “Would you like to come inside? Just so—to get out of the cold and maybe we can…talk a bit more?” He glances back at the house, the dim light filtering through the back window. Then he looks at you, a hopeful smile replacing his light grimace. Dimples crease the corners of his cheeks.

You return the grin in full. “I would love to.”

Steam curls up and around the lip of your mug, the ceramic cradled preciously within your hands. You blow softly on the hot chocolate as you try to absorb this new information.

“So…” You stir the mix again, keeping your hands busy. “An idol?”

From the corner of your eye, the look on Soobin’s face is absurdly tense, keeping a close watch on every movement you make. “Y-yeah.”

“I should’ve guessed.” You hum, bringing a spoonful of cocoa to your lips, sending a fire down your throat as you swallow. “As hot as you are, of course you’d be famous.”

“O-oh.” Red rushes over his ears and cheeks, weighing his head down with embarrassment. You stifle the small giggle the sight brings. He runs a hand over his growing smile and looks back at you shyly. It makes your smile grow ever wider. “That’s—wow. Th-thank you, haha.”

“Just telling the truth.” His dimples curl along his lips and you have to fight the urge to lean over and kiss them.

He looks away again, his small falling slightly, “B-but, um, yeah. That’s kind of why we never got to meet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Obviously, it’s a bit taboo for idols to be in relationships, even if they’re soulmates.” A hand rubs his neck unconsciously, while he still can’t meet your eyes. “So, even when you’re a trainee, companies will usually find some way to block the connection.”

Your chest collapses, an open pit of dread in your stomach. It’s appalling, it’s devastating, and it hurts. He gave you up, but it was for his dream. “T-that…”

“Yeah, it isn’t the best…” The confliction must read on your face, the affliction of his word. His hand quickly finds yours. “But, know I did really want to meet you, it’s just…”

“Soobin.” His eyes hold a soft sorrow you know all too well. You squeeze his hand in reassurance, “It’s okay, I understand. You’re living your dream.”

The squeeze is returned with a gentle smile and a silence settles through the tiny living room. Your mugs sit side-by-side on the coffee table, perhaps a sight you could get used to. His family home is quaint, comforting. With no one else home at the moment, it settles with the sighs of old walls and floors.

“So…why now, then?” You break the silence. “Why did we finally meet today? Because, to be honest, the only thing I was worrying about today was not failing my Spanish exam.”

Your words hang in the air as he mulls them over. A quiet hum rumbles in his chest and, perhaps abesentmindedly, his fingers fiddled with yours.

“I guess, maybe…I mean, it’s my first birthday alone since I became trainee. Or, at least, without my members. I guess I just needed some pretty company.” That sweet, gummy smile molds against his cheeks once again. Lighting up the room just by itself. This time, there’s no holding yourself back this time as you lean across the couch cushions. Lips landing upon the soft swell of his cheek, a new giddines builds in your stomach. And when you pull away, you almost laugh at the shocked pink flooding his skin.

“Well, I hope you enjoy it, because now that I’ve found you, you’re never spending your birthday alone again.”

His laugh twinkles through the air, tugging at the once empty spot in your chest. There now rests him; his heart, his hope, and, one day, his love. With souls intertwined, that missing piece now finally found, you would never be lonely again. He’d be with you, heart beating in tandem against your chest, forever.

© HYUUKAIS 2024

[iriswritesforyou]

Mutant Furnace

info - The heating had gone out in the school, Logan decided to help you

Warnings? - Coldness? Reader being from the south?

Word Count: 1,322

Logan had sported his leather jacket since the moment he got it, it was his trademark in a way. He wore it nearly every day and everywhere and you swore he even wore it to bed, even now with the whole heating out  in the school, he didn't really need it, but he wore it. It was the middle of winter and even with Charles and all his money and the heating had gone out. You and the other teachers had rounded up all the blankets and given them to the kids, you had given up everything but one of your own leaving you freezing in bed. It was around midnight now and you had classes in the morning, no matter how much you curled up and tossed around you could feel your fingers and toes go numb. 

Giving up,  you stood up, your teeth chattering and limbs shaking, wrapping your last blanket tightly around you. It was thin and made of a breathable cotton made for decoration, not for keeping warm so it offered little as you slowly made your way out of your room and down into the living room hoping someone had kept the fire going. With every movement your body ached and with every breath you could see it, you haven't grown up with a winter like this, barely ever seeing snow down south. 

It seemed like an eternity as you slowly made your way down the steps of the school, why did there have to be so many? It was quiet as you crept through the house and into the living room with your trembling breathing being the only sound. 

You could have started to cry when you saw the fire had died out and only the embers remained, still you made your way over slowly easing your body on the ground, getting as close to the fire place as you could without being inside of it. You were so focused on getting warm you missed Logan sitting in a chair in the corner of the room wearing that leather jacket. He didn't make a sound as he watched you shaking like a leaf, confused as to why you were awake at this hour and why you weren't curled up under the covers of your bed. You see, Logan had always had a bit of a soft spot for you, everyone knew it too and teased him about it but they never dared to tease you. 

“Kid?” His rough and low voice scared you as you jumped and turned half of your body to look at where his voice came from. 

“Logan?” He noticed how strained your voice was and walked over to you swiftly, crouching down next to you. He immediately noticed how your teeth were chattering and the blue tint to your typically rosy lips, the way your entire body shook worse and worse as the seconds moved by. 

“What are you do- doing down here?” You asked, struggling to make out the proper words “I could ask you the same doll.” 

“ I couldn't sleep, i- it’s too col - cold in here.” 

Logan knew for most people it would have been cold in the school but for him it was only slightly chilly, though you looked like you were freezing, about two seconds away from turning into a popsicle. 

“Why aren’t you in bed then kid? Under the covers where it’s warm?” Your shaking became even worse and your skin became increasingly dull and drained. You shook your head “ I - I gave all o-of my blank - k - ets to the students.” you gave a small laugh lamely and Logan could see your breath in the air “being fr -from the s- s- south and all, I - I don't really do the c- c -cold.” Your eyes flickered down to his leather jacket and how he didn't even look remotely cold “ H- How the hell a - are you n- not freezing?” 

He sat down next to you and shook his head “This is nothing compared to Canada and my mutation allows me to not feel temperatures as much as others.” 

His eyes went to the blanket around you barely managing to trap your body heat “Is that your only blanket?” You nodded. 

You watched as he shrugged off his leather jacket that tonight confirmed he slept in “Here.” He held it out to you and just looked at it dumbfounded, you couldn't really believe that Logan was giving you his jacket. He exhaled deeply and started to reach for your blanket to take it off. “Put it on, it will help, doll.” he said in a gentle tone. 

He helped you as you shook off your blanket and quickly put in his jacket that was too big for you, almost swallowing you whole before wrapping yourself up again. A small selfish part of him loved the way you looked in his jacket, his, on you, something that was too sweet to ever be his. 

It helped a little but not much, still shaking but less so, you thanked him. Logan had hoped that after a few minutes your body would start to warm up but it wasnt looking that way, he could start a fire. 

He unsheathed his claws catching your attention and you watched with unwavering focus as he scraped his claws against the metal on the side of the fireplace making sparks fly, catching the logs. He bent his torso over and blowed into it making a fire appear, you quickly scooted almost on top of it, your body right next to his, shoulder to shoulder. 

He thought you looked truly beautiful in the firelight with it reflecting off your skin and it highlighting the whites of your eyes, like an angel. Several moments passed in silence as he just watched you before you turned towards him, eyes locked onto each other. 

“Thank you” you whispered slowly and he felt your cold breath on his face, he could smell the scent of your hair and body, it was heavenly to him. 

“Well, I can't have one of our best teachers dying of the cold now can I?” you smiled at his words and bent your head down onto his shoulder leaning fully against him, he was so warm and you pushed yourself even closer. 

“You're like a 6 foot heater you know.” The color had now begun to come back to you and you had almost completely stopped shaking but he could still feel how cold you were, even his jacket. 

And in a selfish act that was more for him than for you, he wrapped one arm under your bent knees that were together and the other around your shoulder, picking you up and putting you in his lap. Your body was fully pressed against him now, sitting directly in his lap with his chin resting on his head but you went stiff for a moment before fully relaxing into his touch. 

You both could have spent forever like that, you felt safe in his arms that were tightly wrapped around your waist and he felt like the luckiest mutant in the world. 

With your body temperature finally back to normal a wave of exhaustion crashed into you. Logan kept his eyes fully trained on you as he watched your body fully sag down, eyelids becoming heavy and breathing evening out, he thought you had fallen asleep. Just as we were about to shift so he could lean against the fireplace so he could keep you warm through the night you lifted your neck up to his cheek and pressed your lips against his cheek softly “thank you.”

He froze before taking his hand and running it over your hair “always.” 

That whole night he stayed awake with you in his arms, keeping the fire from dying out and wrapped safely in his jacket in his arms with your blanket covering you both. 

[whispering-clan]

The Costal Valley Territories

I made a map of the Whisper-verse clan's territories!

These clans live alongside the sea in a small valley split by a river!

Note: this map is more representative than entirely accurate, I just tried to show the basic idea of what the territories look like.

Descriptions of the Clan Territories below!

Moon Island:

Moon Island is both the gathering place for the clans on the full moon, and the place where the majority of the clans (excluding Whisperingclan) go to speak to Starclan. In the middle of the island where the trees form a circle around a large stone, the leaders will perch for meetings. This is also where cats wishing to speak to Starclan sit- under the light of the moon and stars.

...

Age/origin: Youngest clan; formed after the founders were banished from Roaringclan for a coup against the new leader.

Whisperingclan:

Mood Board

Territory: the tallest mountains, rocky, though with some trees, grass and bushes interspersed with the stone. There are a few small creeks and pools running through the mountains due to rain and snow run off, there are also several caves within the mountain. The winter is the worst here with the high altitude and high snowfall.

Camp: the Whispering Cave, a large cave filed with mystical glowing crystals which seem to whisper with the words of the Starclan ancestors. There are several pools above the cave, from which small streams of water fall through cracks in the stone into the cave.

Borders: the River marks the border with Roaringclan and SIngingclan; the border with Growlingclan is only marked with scent markers, though the change in territories can also be seen in the mountain peaks becoming lower and sharper in Growling territory.

...

Roaringclan:

Age/Origin: One of the oldest clans, formed at the same time as Singingclan and Echoingclan; territory was once larger, but was taken over by humans.

Territory: grassy, hilly, plains. Notable features are small patches of trees and bushes, a lake, a muddy/ soil patch by the river, and many little burrows to be found amongst the hills.

Camp: the Abandoned Burrows, a circle of empty fox burrows surrounded by trees and bushes.

Borders: the River marks the border with Whisperingclan; the creek marks the borders of Singingclan and Weepingclan; and on all other sides a human fence marks where their territory ends and the Human Farms begin.

...

Weepingclan:

Age/Origin: Second youngest, though still far older than Whisperingclan; formed from Singingclan separating into two clans, not from any all out fighting, but the realization that there were two obvious separate groups (in skill and personality) in the clan that could survive better in the separate territories.

Territory: marsh lands and dark forests made up of willows and oaks. The forests have soft thick wet peat, though there are some rocky places. Tall grasses and reeds grow around the marsh giving good cover.

Camp: The Weeping Grotto, a large cave opening within a rocky area of the forest of which is surrounded by the largest and oldest weeping willows of the territory.

Borders: the border with Roaringclan is marked by the creek; the border with Singingclan is marked by scent markers, though the change in territories can also be seen in the change in types of trees; the small piece of border with Echoingclan is separated by the river at it's widest, though both clans lay claim to half of the row of stepping stones which could connect the territories; the border which is not shared with any clan stops where human trails (hiking trails) begin, farther from there are human dens and farms.

...

Singingclan:

Age/Origin: One of the oldest clans, formed at the same time as Roaringclan and Echoingclan; originally encompassed Weepingclan as well, but they amicably separated into two clans for better survival.

Territory: forests made of oak and birch along with meadows filled with wildflowers and grasses. Through the center of the territory runs the River and a small creek shoots off through the territory as well. the river is banked by reeds and other water plants.

Camp: the River Hollow, a space surrounded by trees in the center of the island in the middle of the River within their territory.

Borders: the border with Roaringclan is marked by the creek; the border with Whispering and Growlingclan is marked by the River; the border with Weepingclan is marked by scent markers, though the change in territories can also be seen in the change of types of trees; and the border with Echoingclan is marked with scent markers, though it is easy to tell where it is, it is where the sand begins.

...

Echoingclan:

Age/Origin: One of the oldest clans, formed at the same time as Roaringclan and Singingclan; originally encompassed Growlingclan as well, though unlike Weeping and Singing, the separation was born from civil war, the losing side being Growlingclan.

Territory: a beach, almost entirely sand with only costal plants growing in the territory. There is a cliff line which is made up of rock, at the higher end of which the beach is mostly rock with tide pools, weathered stone arches, and the opening to a system of sea caves. This territory seems small, but the sea caves stretch out underneath for large expanses, and even under Growlingclan's territory, Echoingclan lays claim to all of the cave system even under other clan's terriotories.

Camp: the Sea Caves, mostly the large cavern formed at the front opening of the Sea Caves but some cats may even make their own dens in smaller off shoots of the caves as well.

Borders: most of their borders are at the sea's edge, though their borders with the other clans are marked with scent markers; it is easy to tell where territories end however. the border with Singingclan is where Singing's grass begins, and the border with Growlingclan is where the mountain's stone begins.

...

Growlingclan:

Age/Origin: Third youngest, though still far older than Whisperingclan; formed from Echoingclan separating into two clans, two factions in the clan had formed and went into a civil war, Echoing won and banished the losing side to the far less hospitable side of the territory.

Territory: Truly one of the harshest territories, the lower levels of the mountains, rocky sharp lands that end with cliffs along the sea shore that are too high to dare try to reach the sea. There are small groups of shrubs and small trees, but little else in the form of plant life. there are some small pools which are cherished as they are the only certain sources of water.

Camp: the Broken Crag, a cliff face which is broken in places revealing small caves where cats can make dens.

Borders: the border with Whisperingclan is marked with scent markers though the change in territories can also be seen through the mountain peaks becoming higher in Whispering territory; the small border with Singingclan is marked with the river; the border with Echoingclan is marked with scent markers though it is easy to tell where the border is, it is where the sand begins.

[delulu-is-da-solulu]

𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓽.:｡+•

Pt. 1

2k12 Donnie x fem!reader

Angst with a (kinda) happy ending

TW!!! mentions of suicide

Pt. 2

People would get on you about grades, you won’t have to deal with crippling loneliness, no one in your family can lecture you on how you need to get better, you wouldn’t need to think about your future. Those are all problems for living people, you wouldn’t be one of those… but there is one thing that’s in the way.

Watching and reading fantasy, and romance has lead to quite the imagination. You’ve been told all your life how amazing of an artist you were, and the millions of stories you’ve written and OC’s. You could make something amazing, if you managed to survive this dark time everything else will be pure bliss. Key word if.

you decided you’ve spent enough time rotting in bed so you decided to go on a walk. It was the middle of December and snowing, so you put on a big winter coat that radiated warmth. After grabbing your keys and headphones, you started walking.

It had to be under 20 degrees, even with gloves on your hands were freezing. But for the most part everything was calm, it was the weekend so you’d see a bunch of kids playing in the snow with their parents not too far. It was nice seeing stuff so purely domestic, two people in love with each other and an energetic kid that only worries about toys and video games. You remember when you were that kid… but it’s been a long time since then, and you can’t go back.

“What is that?” You mutter to yourself, you feet start to move quicker, trying to get through the alley as fast as possible but then you see it and you scream. “r-Rats!” A wave of rodents zoom by you filling up every street and they’ve started to run at you. Not finding any good place to hide you jump on a garbage bins and you reach for the ladder but it’s jammed. You jump multiple times trying to reach the first escape and you got it, using all of your strength you managed to pull yourself up onto it.

You watch in horror as rays of all kinds start to infest the streets. Like everyone know new York has a rat problem but who knew it was this bad!? You start to bang on the window, hoping that the people who lived there were home but you were left with no response. You were left in the cold, holding yourself with guards of rats coming and more in their way. the one time you go out.

You’ve lost track of time you don’t know how long you’ve been out, but you need to give it one last shot. You get up and bang on the window again… nothing, in defeat you stumble back and you lean on the railing. You hear simmering a screw mabey, but then you start falling. As you head slowly start to approach the concrete you’ve accepted your fate. Your life want bad, not all of it, but you’d be lying to say it was good.

But at least when they find your body, they’ll know how cute your outfit was.

You close your eyes prepping for Impact, but you pass out.

Everything’s so warm, you don’t know the afterlife was gonna be this pleasant. You couldn’t care about a thing at the moment you’re just enjoying yourself, but you hear a splash and you open your eyes.

You’re in a bath, the bathroom has concrete walls but you can’t tell they tried to make it feel homey. The cute bath curtain with turtles on it proves that. As you’re looking around your heart the door open.

“Are you awake? I heard the water splashing so you must be.” The voice is familiar to you, but you can’t remember where you’ve heard it.

“Yes… am I dead?” Even though this isn’t what uno thought the after life would look like, there’s probably more behind the curtain.

“What!? No, luckily you’re not dead. We were really scared though Leo caught you just in time, you were like hurdling towards the ground. And Donnie said you got hypothermia, we’ve been super careful not to make the water too hot or cold.”

“Oh uhh thank you, can I get a towel, and my clothes?” you felt bad asking but they did strip you and take you some place you’ve never been, but they did save you so that also needs to be taken into account.

“They’re on the counter, but I do need to ask you to do one thing.”

“O- okay?” You got a little nervous, a random person takes you to a random place and nose they want something from you.

“If you could put the mask on it would be appreciated.” You could hear the nervousness in her voice and you were stunned.

After the initial shock you swung the shower curtain to the side to see the perv who stripped you and is now asking you to put on a mask. But you recognize that pervs red hair and outfit, “April?”

During middle school the two of you had some classes together, you were never friends but you knew each other.

“Hi (Y/N) long time no see, did you- did you move schools?” Her trying to make small talk while averting her eyes makes you realize you just flashed her.

You cover you self up and shrink into a ball. “OMG April I’m sooo sorry, I forgot, I’m not a creep I promise!”

“No no you’re fine, but get dressed and put in the mask.”

“I still don’t get why?”

She pause for a moment trying to make up an excuse, “my friends are super ugly, and they don’t line people looking at them, so you need to put it on.”

“April, no offense but you’re really bad at lying, it doesn’t take two minutes for otome who are telling the truth to get out whatever they need to say. Unless they have a speech impediment.”

She sighs in defeat, “you just can’t look at them okay, please just trust me.”

“Fine.” She leaves the bathroom and you dry off and get dressed. Lastly you put on the purple mask she gave you. You knock on the door, April I’m done.

“Great.” she races your hand and leads you out of the bathroom, and you start to realize everything smells like shit.

“A- apRil.” You start wheezing, “why does it smell so bad?” You cover your mouth with your hands,

“Yeah I know it smells bad, you’ll get over it.”

You hear a bunch of people talking, you can make out some words.

“So she’s not dead?”

“No numbnuts, April just said she was fine.”

“Are you sure? She felt like ice bro!”

“I know a carried her here.”

“Guys shut up, it doesn’t matter what she was like, Aprils friend is now safe.”

“Do you think April thinks I’m cool now?”

“Why would she think that?”

“Because I just saved her friend from freezing to death. I was the only reason why she didn’t lose any body parts, you guys were just there for moral support.”

“Raph do you think Donnie will ever face reality?”

“Little brother I wish I knew the answer to that.”

“I’m alive!” You scream from the hallway, and they all stop talking. “Wow they seemed so concerned until I relived them of their worry.”

“They’re just shy. Boys, say hi.”

“Hi Aprils friend.” Three of them say but one rushes up to you.

“Hi, I’m Mickey! What’s your name?” His hand was huge compared to yours, and you always thought your hands were bigger than average. But as quickly as her graves you he’s pulled away just as fast.

“Mickey you can’t just grab her, we already have her blindfolded she’s gonna think we’re weird. And she’s Aprils friend if she thinks w-“

“Donnie you are weird. If we take the blind fools off once she leaves the lair, what’s the point of her having it on? She could just come back here and see us!”

“Well Raph! It’s not good to shock a person after a near death experience, let them recoup first.”

“I’ll be-“

They keep on talking, and talking and you take a couple steps back and you start to fall AGAIN.

You can smell pizza and the back of your head hurts, “fuck…” you take off the blindfold to see what you landed on a box of pizza and the couch was in a pit, that’s how you fell. You look up and everyone’s staring at you in shock. “I’m fine,” you stand up, and walk back towards April. “look April this was really nice but I think I’m gonna go.” You turn to the turtles, “thanks for taking care of me, I really appreciate you guys not letting me die.”

You start to walk out of the living room, but instead of a door there’s turnstiles, then you look back at them. April and four green guys with huge hands. Your eyes keep darting between April and the turtles, you rush back to the group and look at all of them closer than take a big step back.

“April. Why are your friends green, and scaley? Looking at them is disturbing and uncanny as fuck, but it isn’t scary and that scares me even more.” Your hands start to shake slightly, and you can’t stop staring at the turtles.

“Hey , hey calm down we’re not gonna hurt you.” The one with the blue mask walk up and tries to sooth you.

“I understand that, but you literally have swords on your back.” *you point to his katana*

“Uh-“ her looks over his shoulder and grabs one of his swords, “I- I won’t use them. We only hurt bad guys.”

“YEAH, so unless you’re a foot goon, you’re completely safe.”

“Yeah, Raph wouldn’t lie, he see’s no point to do so.” Donnie chuckled as he took hold of your hand, with a huge grin that looks like it hurts on his face. “any friend of Aprils is welcome here, and if you need anything just ask me.” His brothers look at him annoyed,

“Donnie what are you doing?” Raph crossed his arms, in irritation.

“I’m just being friendly to our new friend.”

“Your friendliness is kinda making me uncomfortable…”

He quickly swiped his hand back in embarrassment, while looking at April, her expression not changing once. “Oh, well, I… sorry, I’m sorry.” He steps back and sits on the couch.

“Sorry, our brother is weird.”

“Well as leader I think I should introduce everyone. I’m Leo, the one in the red is Raph, the one who basically jumping off the walls is Mickey, and that one back there is Donnie.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Do you like skateboards, or video games, Pizza you need to like pizza!?”

Well this is fun, within a couple hours you saw a stampede of rats, almost froze to death, and met green people who are turtles. If your life can’t be filled with joy, at least it can be exciting.

Hai hai, if you made it to this point thank you soo much for reading. This will be a series so if you wanna read the next chapter then you should follow. Byyyy <<33

[locsandletters]

ᯓ words unsaid; j.musiala

──one shot

pairing ➜ jamal x black!fem!reader

word count ➜ 1k

warnings/notes ➜ a christmas fic on january 1st, who says no?

summary ➜ it's christmas eve, in the middle of nowhere, germany. you and jamal sit across from each other, the coffee cooling between you, and the words he’s too scared to say hanging in the air like mistletoe.

you're sitting across from him in the corner booth of some hole-in-the-wall diner that doesn't even try to pretend it's more than what it is. the kind of place that smells like burnt coffee and hash browns, with vinyl seats that stick to your thighs and holiday decorations strung up so carelessly, they look more like an afterthought than a celebration. there's a fake wreath hanging over the window, lopsided and shedding little bits of plastic snow onto the windowsill. outside, the world is white, the snow falling thick and relentless.

it's christmas eve, but it doesn't feel like it. not really.

you stir your coffee too much, the metal spoon clinking softly against the ceramic mug. jamal watches you pour in another packet of sugar, his lips twitching like he wants to say something about it but doesn't. instead, he rests his chin on his palm, elbow propped against the table, and just... looks at you.

the warmth of his gaze feels heavier than the heat coming off the mug between your hands.

you glance up, catching him staring, and your brows raise just slightly. "what?" you ask, tilting your head. your voice is soft, like you don't want to disturb the quiet that's settled between you two.

he shakes his head, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. "nothing," he says, but it's a lie. 'nothing' isn't quite right, because it's everything, isn't it? it's the way your hair frames your face, the way the light from the flickering bulb above your table makes your skin glow. it's the way your laugh lingers in his head long after it's gone, like an echo he can't let go of.

it's the way he's been wanting to tell you for weeks now—months, maybe—but the words never quite make it past the lump in his throat.

"you're a terrible liar," you say, smiling a little, and it hits him like it always does.

he doesn't even bother to deny it. instead, he picks up the balled-up straw wrapper sitting by his plate and flicks it at you. it bounces off your wrist and lands in your lap, and for a moment, you just stare at him like you can't believe he's done it. then you're laughing, and it's the kind of laugh that fills every inch of the tiny diner, so bright and warm it feels like summer in the dead of winter.

he swears he could live off the sound of it.

"real mature, jamal," you say, but you're still laughing, and he grins, leaning back against the booth like he's won something. maybe he has.

he doesn't tell you, though, that he only did it because he couldn't bring himself to say what he wanted to say. doesn't tell you that every time you look at him like that, like he's something more than just a boy who plays football, it makes him want to grab your hand across the table and never let go.

he doesn't tell you that he loves you.

instead, he watches you take a sip of your coffee, your nose scrunching up because it's still too bitter, even after all the sugar and creamer you've poured into it. he knows you'll keep drinking it anyway, though. you always do.

outside, the snow keeps falling, blanketing the streets and the rooftops in white. the faint sound of christmas music plays from the diner's old jukebox in the corner—something slow and soft, the kind of song that makes you think about things you're too scared to say out loud.

"you ever think about where you'll be next year?" you ask suddenly, your voice quiet. your gaze is fixed on the window, on the snow swirling in the glow of the streetlights.

he hesitates, his fingers playing with the edge of his napkin. "not really," he admits. "i mean... sometimes. but it's hard to think that far ahead."

you nod, and there's something in your expression he can't quite read. something that makes him want to reach out and touch your hand, but he doesn't. instead, he says, "why? do you?"

you shrug. "sometimes. i just... i don't know. it feels like everything's moving so fast, you know? like one day, we're here, and the next..."

you trail off, and he knows exactly what you mean without you having to say it. he feels it too—the way time slips through your fingers like sand, no matter how tightly you try to hold on.

"i get it," he says softly, and when you finally look at him again, there's something unspoken between you, something heavy and fragile all at once.

he thinks about saying it then, the three words that have been sitting on the tip of his tongue for what feels like forever. but he takes too long, and the moment passes.

instead, he leans forward, his elbows resting on the table, and smiles at you. "you know," he says, his tone light, "you could always just stay here. next year, the year after... forever."

you laugh, rolling your eyes. "in this diner?"

"why not?" he says, shrugging. "they've got great coffee."

you snort, looking down at your mug. "this coffee tastes like dishwater."

"well, yeah," he says, grinning. "but you make it worth it."

you roll your eyes again, but you're smiling, and he thinks it's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

he thinks he'll have all the time in the world to tell you how he feels. thinks he'll have another chance, another moment when the words come easier.

but for now, he lets the moment linger, lets the sound of your laugh fill the space between you, and it's enough.

for now, it's enough.