#the only place it snows where i live is in the middle of winter at the tops of mountains
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WHAT DOES IT FEEL LIKE WHEN YOU CATCH A SNOWFLAKE ON YOUR TONGUE
I need to know for writing purposes. Please help.
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moonlightwritingf1 · 27 days ago
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The fire between us | LN4
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☃️ 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
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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.
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novaursa · 4 months ago
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Valyrian Bride (Continuation)
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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
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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.
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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.
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wikiangela · 29 days ago
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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.
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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]
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paige1722 · 16 days ago
Text
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.
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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.
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lvis44 · 25 days ago
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Cabin Fever - Pt. 1 // LH44
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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.
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iriswritesforyou · 5 months ago
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Mutant Furnace
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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. 
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rosesbxrry · 2 years ago
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Cabin fever
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Pairing: Boyfriend! Sunghoon X Girlfriend! Fem! Reader
Genre: Smut🔞(Minors DNI), established relationship! AU, 
Warnings: Hard and mean Dom! Sunghoon, unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it), cream pie, temperature play, cabin sex, fellatio (blowjob), throat fucking, ass spanking, slut shaming, degradation, Sunghoon calls you doll so much, reverse cowgirl, lots of teasing in his end, slight orgasm denial, slight nipple play. Hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else.
Summary: All you wanted was to escape the frigid December and spend more time with your boyfriend, Sunghoon, as the Christmas holiday urged you to do something together only to end up in a Ski Resort— courtesy of his idea. Still, at least the cabin you will be staying in was worth it, but Sunghoon had other plans during your trip. 
"Don't lie to me and say you never thought of us fucking while we're here."
A Holiday Special: ➜ Sunghoon
| ➜ Heeseung | ➜ Jay | ➜ Jake |
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Word count: 4,087 words
a/n: I can’t believe this would be the last one for the holiday special 😱 it has been a month of non-stop writing and I’m proud of myself for finishing this eventhough I’m way past the holiday mood already 🤡 Anyways, thank you to everyone who stuck around until the end 🫶
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It had to be said that— Winter is a very perplexing season, and you weren't for nor against the juncture that foreshadows spring. 
When you woke up the following day after a heavy snowfall, your world was stripped of its life. Snow covered the color of nature into a temporary slumber, depriving your surroundings of any signs of existence, minus the people living there. 
Shoveling the driveway and sidewalk was equally annoying as driving on the slippery, damp road. Doing something as simple as throwing the trash out was a hassle as you had to ensure you were dressed appropriately to avoid getting frostbite and wearing layers of clothing just to be outside for five minutes. 
The last straw was when you woke up in the middle of the night, itching to use the toilet, only to scream loudly at how cold the seat was. You didn't own one of those fancy Japanese toilet warmers, so you had to persevere with only what you had. 
The only saving grace to the coldest season was Christmas, the holiday you enjoyed the most in every aspect possible. It was the time of the month when you got to spend some time with your family and loved ones, which was why you were excited to celebrate the occasion with Sunghoon. 
As per tradition, both of you took turns taking responsibility for setting up a game plan for your Christmas dates. Whether it be a fancy candlelit dinner or a stay-at-home watching movies kind of vibe— it didn't really matter as long as you could spend some quality time together as a couple. 
You didn't expect him to book something outside the area, which you didn't mind since it's been so long since you've been to a vacation spot for a date. The problem lies when you find out that the place your boyfriend, who knew that the cold was the bane of your existence, had graciously reserved was a Ski Resort. 
Which alludes that skiing was in the itinerary or even the only entertainment there is within the vicinity. Heck, since when did he even ski in the first place? 
The place was situated on the outskirts of town, surrounded by the outdoor wilderness but more so pine timbers and mountains that seemed as frigid as the cold December. You were worried about altitude sickness at how high up the resort was, but that wasn't the case after sliding through the pistes and utilizing the ski lift multiple times. 
Although, you could get down to the log cabin where you would lodge for the rest of the trip.
It was the epitome of a picturesque accommodation, fitted for the cozy and warm vibes it provided as you lay on the woolly sofa after spending half of the day outside skiing in the snow. 
"I'm so tired." You drawled, stretching your legs and resting your head on the back of the sofa. 
Your face was numb with all the cold wind blowing on your facial skin, wanting nothing more than to stuff yourself on a pile of blankets. Still, you enjoyed the activity more than you anticipated. 
"What happened to Miss this is stupid, I don't even know how to ski and her complaints?" Sunghoon snorted in amusement, feeling the cushion deep as he sat beside you. The high points of his pale face were also flushed from the cold. 
You kick his shin with your foot lightly. "Hush, Sunghoon. That's all in the past now. We need to start living in the future."
Your shameless allude caused him to grin knowingly, and you tried to salvage your remaining dignity to prevent stroking the already big ego that he was right about the trip. 
"Can you add more wood to the fire? It's seriously getting a bit cold here." You ask, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth. 
The words you said were to distract and send him away from the subject matter, but now that you were conscious of the drop in temperature, chills went down your spine. 
It was getting cold in the cabin, evident by how your fingers were getting tingles as you held them close to your mouth. The masonry heater that warms up the place had probably started to die out since the morning you left to go skiing. 
That was the drawback of experiencing a multipurpose rental cabin; the one-layer log walls were also built to be used in the summer, which is why the insulation was pretty much crap. 
It didn't help that you were surrounded by a secluded forest, so if you and Sunghoon didn't keep the heater well ignited throughout the day, there was a high chance that both of you would end up freezing to death in this weather. 
"Come here, let me help warm up your hands." Sunghoon said, reaching out to take your left hand in his. 
You didn't think much, guessing that he'll put your hand in the pocket of his winter jacket. So, you instinctively relax your arm and let him guide it near his body— only for him to place it right on his crotch.
"What the— Sunghoon!" You yelled, obviously not amused by his sudden inappropriate behavior as you tried to pull your hands away from his growing bulge. 
He proved to be much more substantial; his grip on your hand didn't falter at your pathetic attempts to free yourself were to no avail. Sunghoon laughed at your annoyed expression, watching you struggle as he adjusted his hands that intertwined with yours to let you grope more of his size. 
"I'm literally freezing to my bones and the only thing you could do is to succumb to your own horny ass?" You protest through gritted teeth. 
Sunghoon shrugged his shoulders. "I told you I'll help you warm up your hand…..never said how though." 
You gave him an unbelievable stare, rolling your eyes while obviously used to his obnoxious antics of railing you up. 
"I'm being serious here." You reminded him, not swayed by his little charade. 
He snorted, giving you one dark look between his bangs. You yelped in surprise when he yanked your hand towards him, causing your upper arm and shoulder to fall flush on his lap. Some of your weight had transferred to your palm as you tried to keep the leverage to stare up at him. 
This action made you realize how hard he was under your hand. 
"I'm being serious too." He whispered an octave lower as he smirked down at you with a hungry glint that made you swallow. 
"Don't lie to me and say you never thought of us fucking while we're here." He raised an eyebrow, watching your cheeks flush as his words hit a home run. 
You can't pretend that it never crossed your mind that this trip would be the perfect setting for a bad plot line of a porno. There was an outdoor jacuzzi and even a fireplace in your shared bedroom— all the proper setup ensues the wild fantasy swimming in your mind, or maybe you were just as horny as he was. 
You grunted in defeat, and he watched you with a smug smile when you began to pull on the front of his pants. 
"Not a word, Park." You grumbled. 
He licks his lower lips, stopping himself from grinning wider as he helps you tug his pants to his thighs and free his hard cock from the confinements of his briefs.
Sunghoon let out a hiss when you began pumping his length; the delicious contact of your cold hands against the hot skin of his head and the underside of his veins got him winching in pleasure at the sensation. 
"I knew you'd come around," He said as you adjusted to lay your chin on his lap, body outstretched on the sofa on your chest and stomach, hands never ceased to jerk him slowly. "My dick is just that good, huh?" 
"You know, you're so much hotter with your mouth shut closed." You said, his words getting on your nerves. 
Sunghoon crackled at your annoyed expression. "While you—" 
He grabs a bunch of your hair behind your head, tugging forward until your face is inches away from his stiff erection. His other hand rested on your ass cheeks, kneading the ample flesh roughly until you whined at the sensation.
"—look so much hotter with your mouth open, full of my cock." 
You caved in to the directing action of his grip on your hair, opening your mouth as he guided you to shove his length past your lips. 
Sunghoon was not only ridiculously long, but his thick girth stretched the corner of your lips beyond its capacity. He was throbbing against the inside of your mouth as you slowly inhaled most of his size; the remaining length left was occupied for you to jerk him off. 
"My girl just wanted something to suck on, huh?" He said, shivering at the juxtaposition sensation of your hot mouth engulfing his cock as opposed to the cold temperature of the surrounding. 
When you withdraw with only his head around your lips, you dart your tongue at his swollen slit, precum dribbling out to coat your taste bud before encasing the majority of his length again in a suckling motion. 
The cold chills you felt before had dissipated, your body warming up as you relentlessly bobbed your head up and down his length more crudely by the second. 
His groans hitched when you ran your warm tongue over the large vein on his length, hollowing your cheeks to suction him back and forth so filthily that he didn't even need to move his hips to thrust into your throat— you were already doing it yourself, and he can't help but found the sight to be pure ecstasy. 
"Such a whore for my cock." He breathed out, watching you through half-lidded eyes. "Could never get enough watching you slut your mouth out for me." 
You would love to look up and gauge his reaction, but it proved to be complicated. 
Every time his swollen tip would press on the soft palate of your mouth and poke at the back of your throat, your eyes squeezed shut as all you could do was suck harder around his cock. 
It drives you crazy at how solid and big he was, filling the cavern of your mouth to the brim and forcing you to breathe through your nostrils at the lack of space. 
Your hands wrap around the base of his cock with whatever you weren't able to fit, feeling yourself rutting on the sofa at the sensation of your aching clit pooled with your own juices. 
Sloppy noises filled the air as you quickened your pace, humming around his cock as waves of vibrations sent signals for him to let out a few low groans.
It didn't help that the movement of your chin was digging into his tight balls. 
"Fuck, that's it." He encouraged you, toes curling as his pending release was on edge. He pulled your hair tighter, melting at how eager you were to fuck your throat with his dick. "Take me deeper, doll." 
You spurred into action, loosening the tension by unhinging your jaw and swallowing him until his cock pressed on your throat incessantly. With tears stinging your eyes, you remain stagnant in your position, diving deep down until you feel like choking. 
The sensation of your hot, gummy throat on his erect head for such a prolonged duration made him lose it— Sunghoon eyes flew to the ceiling, and his head lolled to the side as he released with a loud curse. 
He defiled your opening with ropes of his musky cum. You gulped down his hot seed rapturously and pumped his length to milk out every last drop of him. 
"Fuck, you're unreal." He slurred, leaning on the back of the sofa to watch you with blown-out eyes, thighs feeling sore with the weight of your shoulders on his lap. 
The beautiful sight of you smacking your lips around his length winded him in delight. Despite the drool and white mess dripping down your chin, you lick his cum nice and clean for him to witness. 
"Messy girl, you're drooling everywhere." He cooed, putting a palm on the crown of your head. 
Your jaw was sore from sucking him off, but you opted to swirl his tip around the roof of your mouth like he was fine wine. His taste was so addictive that you couldn't help but play with him for a little longer. 
"What can I say," You mumbled with his cock still in your mouth, looking up at him with a seductive stare. "I'm a slut for your cock, aren't I?"
Letting his head poke the inside of your cheek, you made sure he saw the prominent bulge that formed on your face. 
Sunghoon inhales a deep breath. 
You knew you unleashed the beast within; his eyes turned dark and cold as he roughly held your jaw to yank your mouth away, feeling his nails dig into the skin. You almost moan pathetically at the way he swallowed hard, anticipation sending waves of enticing pleasure to your clit because you knew—
He was gonna ruin you to hell. 
"Enough." His voice tightened, his command being the epitome of dominance. His thick eyebrows furrowed, expression morphed into raw hunger. You rubbed your thighs together, excitement coursing through your veins when he pulled on the waistband of your trousers. 
"That smart mouth of yours needs to stop being fucking greedy." He asserts, manhandling your body until you are straddling on either side of his thighs, giving him a good view of your back as you face away from him. 
The cold air of the frigid cabin made you shudder as your trousers were long thrown on the floor, leaving you vulnerable with your lace panties. Sunghoon pulled the soaked middle to the side, the bundled material wedged between the crack of your ass. 
You sigh when the chilly air hits your exposed and damp folds. 
"I want your pussy to do all the fucking this time" Sunghoon squeezed a handful of the soft flesh, massaging it teasingly until it bulged between his deft fingers, enough to make you whimper in agony.
"So prepare yourself and ride me real good." He urged, hands moving to your sides. 
Still suspended in mid-air above his lap, adrenaline bristled your body as you reached back to grip his cock, positioning his tip against your tender entrance while he lowered you down by your love handles. 
Everything shifts into an upward spiral, feeling him stretch your walls deliciously as you sink down on his hard cock. 
"Ahh—haaahh— fuck." You gasp for air, chest rising and falling erratically as you take him inch by inch until you bottom out and are fully seated on his lap. 
"So fucking deep….." 
You feel winded by the sheer volume of his cock  even though you've had him a million times before. Still, your position allowed him to reach the deepest part of your crevice, already clamping around his length before he could even move. 
Sunghoon seemed delighted with your reaction, leaning forward until his hot breath fanned the nape of your neck and toned chest flushed to your back. 
"You love it when I go deep into you, don't you?" he hummed, licking the outer shell of your ear before nibbling at the wet spot. "Love it when I split your pussy with my big cock, right, doll?" 
"I love it….fuck…I love it so much….." Your voice was slurred with drunkness, head spinning with vertigo overwhelming your consciousness at his words when you finally felt the desperation to move— grinding down on your hips to slowly test the waters.  
After enduring the initial adjustment, you finally move in and out of him, and my god, did you erupt out the most euphoric moan at the sensation of his length dragging against your hot walls. 
"Look at you go, bouncing on my cock like a slut you are." His defiling praises only fueled the knot burning in your stomach, your juices leaking around him as it lubricated the movement of your drop and fall. 
In the moment of delirious high, you didn't realize that he pulled the last article of clothing to keep you away from the biting temperature. It only registered in your mind when he roughly peeled your bra off, exposing your upper body to the cold air of the bleak cabin. 
You were sure the heater had died off at this point, basking your figure in the arctic air.
Sunghoon cupped your bouncing breast from behind; his large cold hands engulfed the pair with a tight grasp. Goosebumps flares on your skin by the coldness, and it gets worse when he kneads the flesh in a circular motion, index fingers flicking your erect nipples back and forth. 
"Wait— stop!" You begged, but the male continued playing with your breast and hardened nipple, ignoring your request with a coy smirk. 
"Why? Don't you like it when I play with your nipples like this?" You could feel the teasing grin plastered on his face at the back of your neck. You buck your hips when he pinches your tits, pulling them away slightly in a torturous manner. 
"Fuck, its too cold, Sunghoon." 
The throbbing pleasure came in waves, from your stuffed pussy to your sensitive breast, and it only intensified at how icy his fingers were.
"Cold? Then if I do this—" 
Nothing in the universe could prepare you for the sensation of his cold finger on your clit, and you almost lurch forward from his lap if he hadn't held you down with a strong arm around your waist. 
The temperature change was too much for your swollen clit to handle, and strings of broken moans escaped your lips that you almost choked on your saliva. The sensation hurts enough to morph oddly into agonizing pleasure that you've never felt before. 
Fuck, this is crazy. 
While you were losing your mind, Sunghoon was enraptured by the feeling of your cunt clenching and contracting around him. You were so tight, so wet that he couldn't help but rub circles around your clit rapidly to elicit more of your sweet spasm. 
"No— stop. Hahhahh— please stop, it's too much." 
You were sobbing in deep torment at this point, trying to clamp your thighs shut to slow his pace down. You lean back on his chest as your body grows dull by the pleasure every second, your thigh burning from riding him for too long.
Sunghoon was dissatisfied with your current state, apparent with how he stopped playing with your tits and clit, baring his fangs to bite between the junction of your neck harshly. 
"Too much?" Sunghoon let out an exasperated laugh punctuated with an edge of rage that you were all too familiar with. "You really are an ungrateful slut." 
With his arms around your waist to haul you up, you were pushed down on the wooden floor on all fours. Sunghoon made sure to realign his cock to nudge you deeper, your position with your ass up and head down made you at his mercy. 
"I gave you all the pleasure you need, yet, it's too much? Don't make me laugh." He spat, pulling you closer by the hips roughly.
The drag of your puffy nipples against the stone-cold floor at his action stings your eyes, droplets of salty tears dripping down your cheeks. The complaint died in your throat— you were afraid of what he'll do beyond if he ever heard another plea from you. 
Sunghoon can be grueling and hard on you, but maybe it was the internal masochist that kept you whining in pleasure at his forceful touch. 
"Move." He commands. 
You lay stagnant on the floor; the lack of proper spatial consciousness made you unable to compute what he meant, causing him to land a firm slap on your tender ass cheek. 
The sound of flesh meeting flesh echoed throughout the space, leaving a redden splotch behind. You jolt slightly from the impact, curling your toes in anticipation when you feel the wind of a second collision— only it never came. 
Sunghoon loves how your drenched pussy clings onto his cock tighter, finding amusement when he teases for a second slap. Fuck, he found solace that you wanted to be spanked by him, and he'll do it wholeheartedly until you come, but that beats the point of punishing you. 
"Don't let me tell you twice." 
You swallowed down and mustered up the last remaining strength you had in your lower half, snapping back at his cock begrudgingly slowly but enough for him to be content for following his order. 
"See, it wasn't that hard to follow my orders, right?" He rubs on the sore spot of your ass with his thumb comfortingly. "Such a needy little thing."
You cried out in your folded arms, pushing back until the head of his cock kissed the deepest part of your pussy. Persevering that your abused tits would rub the cold floor every time you move, you clench your fist and push back faster and harder to satisfy him. 
Sunghoon was at the edge of coming, tilting his head back and watching your ass jiggle with every movement. His abdomen tensed up with eyebrows furrowed, feeling you milking him dry— until you stopped moving your hips abruptly before he could come undone.
"What the fuck?" He groans, almost offended by the sudden halt. 
You could have let him have his way with you, but instead, you were digging your grave in an attempt to relinquish some sort of control over him. 
"I—I'm not gonna let you come, Sunghoon." You breathe out, feigning bravery to utter those words even with your compromised position. 
There was a pause in the air before Sunghoon outright laughed. 
"Think you're so tough now, doll? Saying I can't cum?" Rather than taking it seriously, he snides in adoration at your attempt of defiance because, in the end, what fun will it be without some challenge? 
"Fuck, you're adorable." Smoothing the curve of your ass to the arch of your back, his chuckle derives from the depth of his chest as he bit his lower lips to control his grin. "You're so cute, baby." 
Your face burned at his genuine remarks. 
The dominant energy he possessed previously dissolved a bit, holding your hips more sensually as he started pistoning his hips. The knot in your stomach rekindled, and his cock slid in and out of your cunt easily at the amount of arousal dripping out.
"My cute girl likes becoming my cum slut, doesn't she?" Sunghoon crooned, sloppily railing you slowly but slamming back once he was deep in you. "Do you want it, baby? Do you want me to fill your hole with my seed? 
"Yes, yes— Sunghoon, I'm gonna cum…." You hiccuped. 
At this point, the buildup of numerous torturous stimulation was clawing you to the brink of insanity, wanting nothing more than to cum around his cock until you could see stars. 
Sunghoon understood the immediate signs of your nearing orgasm, humping the floor and crying his name uncontrollably— he gave all his strength in one last thrust before you burst by the seams.
Your climax blinds you over with euphoric waves that overwhelm your entire being. You were burning up inside but shuddered simultaneously on the cold floor, feeling like a fever taking over your release with sweet respite. 
It didn't take long for Sunghoon to come as well, filling you up with his hot load as he promised. He fuck you through your orgasm, suspending you on cloud nine in the afterglow until you turn limp. 
Huffing and puffing occupied the silence as you lay flat on the floor, exhaustion taking over the muscles of your body. As you clench and unclench when he pulls out, the abundant milky arousal oozes out of your spent hole on your thighs. 
"Are you okay? Did I take it too far?" Sunghoon hovers over your lower body, kissing softly on the bruised spot on your ass guiltily.
"Did you?" You snort sarcastically, obviously perpetuating that it isn't with the way you're utterly numb. Sighing blissfully at the feeling of his soft lips on your stinging flesh, you had only one thing on your mind that made him laugh. 
"I think my nipples are frozen." 
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Permanent Taglist: open/ take this form to be added!
@forjongseong@skzenhalove @duolingofanaccount @sunnysunnysunnysunshine @sunnyjayjays @archangelaurii @hwihwi0o0 @won-shine @stnkyash @yoursjaeyun @hooneam @jjhmk @pshchives @heeseungssidechick
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A Holiday Special: ➜ Sunghoon
| ➜ Heeseung | ➜ Jay | ➜ Jake |
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whispering-clan · 1 year ago
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The Costal Valley Territories
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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.
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hyuukais · 1 month ago
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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 🤭
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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.”
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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.
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© HYUUKAIS 2024
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at-wicks-end · 17 days ago
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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🩷
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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.
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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.
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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🥹
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scribbledghost · 4 days ago
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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.
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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.
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atinylittlepain · 2 years ago
Note
Hi, love your writing!!! Anyways, I was thinking, a Joel x Reader! One-shot, where the reader possibly messes up a deal or trade with a different group and Joel is PIIIIIISSSSSEEEDDDD (grumpy angry Joel bc yes obvi 🧎🏻‍♀️) so anyways they go back to Jackson and he slowly gets over it y'know, BUT then when the next occasion for a trade arises, Joel brings reader along and it seems like Joel is betraying the reader, trading her for supplies (possibly handing her over to enemies or some real sick people) but then he reveals its a ploy to get the upper hand on the group and the two take out (k1ll) the bandits and Joel is basically like " I would never trade you for anything even if you mess up sometimes" Yada Yada fluff 💕💕💕
-yc :3
baaaabe, apologies for my delayed reply, but i love some good angst and wanted to do it right <3
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gif by @riley-keoughs
Cold as Ice
Joel Miller x f!reader
joel miller masterlist
when she messes up on a job, Joel's anger freezes her out harder than the biting Wyoming winter.
warnings | 18+ angst, canon-typical violence, feelingsssss
..................
She was freezing. It was the middle of winter in Wyoming, and she was shaking so hard she could barely steady her hands on her rifle. It didn’t help that she was laid out in the snow on her stomach right now, peering out from an overlook at Joel and the men he was dealing with. She knew it shouldn’t be much longer though, so she did her best to steady her focus back on the scene in front of her. 
Joel had asked her to hang back while he traded with them, men that he had encountered a few weeks back on a solo patrol shift. Always careful to keep the existence of Jackson a secret, Joel had told the men that he was a lone survivor, making camp in the valley of the mountains for the winter. While the men had accepted this lie, they had also asked to meet soon to trade, something that Joel couldn’t deny without stirring suspicion. So, he made a plan to return to the plains the next week, bringing her along for hidden back-up if need be. 
She had said yes to joining him without hesitation.​ They’ve been partners for a while, having traipsed across the states with Ellie in tow and witnessed their fair share of horrors. Somewhere along the way, they had started seeking a little more creature comfort in each other, but she had chalked it up to just that, comfort, no need for feelings messing things up. 
Where Joel goes, she goes, and vice versa. But as she shivered in places she didn’t know could shiver, she wanted more than anything to be back in town where the unfathomable luxury of space heaters exists. 
Her nose was running, snot freezing right to her face as she tried to keep her eyes on the men down in the valley, but the deep itch of cold kept forcing her to rub her face in the crook of her arm.
It happened so quickly she didn’t have time to even think of stopping it, a hard sneeze racking her body. She was lucky her finger wasn’t on the trigger, but the men still seemed to have noticed it, heads whipping around to look up the hill that she was tucked behind. She could hear a swell of heated murmuring between Joel and the men. She pressed herself as flat into the ground as she could, praying that they would chalk it up to the whipping wind or an animal. The men’s questioning chatter died down into silence and she held her breath as the only sound that remained was that of boots trudging closer through the snow. 
She craned her neck up just enough to look out over the hill, relief flooding through her at the sight of only Joel hiking toward her, the four other men receding in the opposite direction. Her relief was short-lived, however, with the way he hauled her onto her feet with a harsh hand hooked under her arm, pushing her to keep walking along with him.
“What the hell was that?” Suddenly, the cold was the least of her worries, with the way Joel was seething beside her. She stumbled over her reply.
“I-I fucked up. I’m– I’m sorry.” 
“We don’t get to fuck up. Not out here. You know that.” Her heart dropped at the harsh tone of his words.
“Wh–what happened with those guys? Where are they going?” Joel huffed, keeping his eyes forward as they continued to trek back home.
“They got spooked. Gonna have to come back in a few days to finish this fucking deal. You’re lucky they weren’t smart enough to think anything more of that sound.” It was the last thing either of them said the whole hike back to Jackson, Joel’s anger cracking and fissuring between them until the distance felt insurmountable. 
For the first time since they settled in the house Tommy gave them, she slept in her own bed that night, startling awake to the sound of Joel slamming the door to his room.
It had been a quiet few days back in Jackson. She had been avoiding Joel as best she could, and he did nothing to stop her, each of them taking odd shifts to stay out of the house as much as possible. Ellie had sensed there was something wrong right away and had asked her “what the fuck happened” but all she could do was sigh and shake her head at the thick heat rising in her throat. 
More than anything, she was upset at herself, that she had made such a stupid mistake. But a close second to that feeling was the wary fear she felt being the subject of Joel’s obvious ire. If they happened to cross each other’s paths, he wouldn’t so much as look at her, keeping his head down and his brow furrowed as he quickly shuffled off. She hadn’t been sleeping at all either, having gotten so used to tangling up with him each night. There was no warmth, no steady heartbeat to lull her to sleep alone in her own bed. 
She was starting to resign herself to this new reality in which Joel Miller seemed to want nothing to do with her. She told herself that she’d stick around for Ellie, but otherwise, she’d keep away from the man she had so clearly let down. This didn’t last long, however, not when Joel sought her out at the stables, sidling up next to her where she was grooming one of the mares. It was hard to look at him, and she resolved herself to keeping her attention on the horse as he spoke in a hushed tone.
“I, uh, need your help tomorrow.” She couldn’t help the scoff she let out at that.
“Why would you want my help? I’ll probably just fuck it up anyways.” She knew it was a childish thing to say the moment it left her mouth, a heavy silence falling between them after. Joel finally cleared his throat to press on. 
“Gotta go back out tomorrow to finish that deal. Nobody else can know what’s going on, Maria’d probably have my head if she found out.” Her heart sank at the realization that the only reason he was asking her for her help was because she was the only person he could ask. She let out a harsh cough to mask the thick sadness creeping up her throat, nodding at his words, but still not looking at him.
“Alright, fine. We’ll head out in the morning.” Another stilted silence fell on them. She knew Joel well enough to tell that he had something else to say, by the way he was toeing his boot into the ground and lingering next to her. But he seemed to think better of it, letting out a sigh and grumbling that he’d meet her at the gate in the morning as he was already trudging out of the stables. 
The silence was maddening. They had been walking for a few hours, getting closer to the meeting point, but it had felt like an eternity with the way neither of them was speaking. They had never been particularly talkative on the road, but by the time they had settled in Jackson they had warmed to each other enough to usually keep a quiet conversation going. No longer able to stand it, she finally cleared her throat, words puffing out into the cold air.
“Joel? I am sorry– about last time. I–” Before she could finish speaking, Joel came to a halting stop, pressing her back behind him, and it was then that she saw the four men coming toward them, guns cocked. Shit.
“Drop your weapons! And whoever you got tucked behind you better step out to the side.” Joel glanced at her over his shoulder, a hesitant nod as she shuffled out alongside him, both of them shouldering off their guns, palms up as the group of men closed in. 
One of the men let out a low whistle, looking her up and down like a piece of meat.
“Was that noise we heard last time you, pretty?” She pressed her lips into a thin line, trying hard not to give anything away in her expression. The men all laughed, but Joel was quick to cut through it with a firm few words.
“This doesn’t have to be a problem. We can still trade.” The men instantly steeled back into silence, the mouths of their guns all aiming at Joel. The man who seemed to be the leader sneered.
“Was I talking to you, man? No.” He turned his attention back to her.
“Why don’t you walk over to us, pretty? Then turn around nice and slow so you’re facing your man.” With four guns aimed at them, she knew the man wasn’t asking, he was telling, so she did as he said, quietly trudging through the snow closer to the group before turning around to face Joel.
“Can’t blame you for hiding this one from us, buddy.” The man sauntered closer to her and she had to will herself to keep from flinching as he pressed up behind her, frostbit fingers skittering along her cheek. 
“What’s your name, honey?” She muttered her name to the man, trying to keep as still as possible as he skated the barrel of his gun along the side of her neck. She couldn’t help the quiet yelp that escaped her lips when he brought his other hand to the swell of her thigh, squeezing hard. She didn’t dare look at Joel, shame rising like hot bile in her throat.
“S’a pretty name for a pretty girl. Don't you think your boyfriend here was a little rude for not introducing us?” The men laughed again, a sound that sat heavy in her stomach. The man behind her hummed a little, pressing his cheek against hers as he looked over her shoulder at Joel.
“Isn’t he a little old for you, honey?” The men snickered, and her eyes finally darted to Joel’s face, his eyes squinted, mouth screwed up. A shiver of fear ran up her spine because for the first time in a while she couldn’t read him, couldn’t parse out what he was thinking or feeling in that moment. She had never felt so alone.
A gasp escaped her mouth when the man wrapped his forearm around her chest, cocking the barrel of his gun right under her chin as he kept his eyes set on Joel. She thought she could see his fingers flex where his hands were still held up.
“Tell you what, pal. I’ve got a new deal for you. You let us take this sweet thing off your hands, and in return, we won’t shoot you where you stand.” Blood rushed in her ears, an icy panic settling in at the way Joel wasn’t seeming to refuse, to offer up some alternative. She couldn’t help thinking that maybe this really was it, that Joel Miller was cutting her loose and feeding her to the wolves. Her thoughts were jolted by the sound of the man cocking his gun again, pressing the barrel a little harder into her jaw.
“I’d rather not ask twice, man. Do we have a deal or not?” She could see the bob of Joel’s throat, but he refused to look at her, his gaze staying on the man holding her up. 
“She has my knife. Just let me get it back and she’s all yours.” His words felt like a quick kick to the stomach and she choked on her breath, but her mind followed fast with the realization that what Joel said was a lie. His face was still unreadable, but it was becoming clear that he had a plan. The man behind her let out a breathy chuckle before harshly shoving her forward toward Joel, he catching her forearms to steady her.
“Go ahead, then. But make it fast.” Joel finally looked at her, reaching around her to unzip her pack, she guessed to look like he really was digging around for his knife. He ducked his head down, his words a low murmur just barely heard above the whistling wind.
“Know you keep a side piece in here. You still got your knife?” She offered him a faint nod.
“I’ll cover you. On my word.” She could feel his hand in her pack closing around the pistol she had stowed in there. She met his gaze again, one more jerk of a nod followed by Joel’s muttered “now.” 
They did what they do best. She whipped around in a flash, Joel already shooting one man down as she ran up on the others. The three men left standing were so disoriented, unsure where to aim their guns, and she made quick work of a second man, striking her blade across his throat and sending him down to his knees, warm blood spurting across her face. Joel was quick to put a bullet in another one, leaving the leader for her. She was more than happy to jam her blade up into the softness beneath his ribs, watching blood gurgle out of his mouth before he slumped to the ground. 
Her hands were shaking as her eyes swept over the aftermath, but Joel quickly came up behind her, spinning her around to face him and cupping her jaw in his palms, eyes searching her expression.
“You alright? Not hurt anywhere?” She shook her head in his hold, finally letting out a stuttering laugh, making Joel furrow his brow at her.
“What? What is it?” 
“I just– really thought you were gonna let them take me for a second there. Thought you were finally done with me.” His face slackened at her words before he snapped back with a gruff scoff.
“You fucking serious right now?” She shrugged, eyes not quite meeting his.
“After last time, figured you didn’t want to work with a fuck-up anymore.” Joel made a harsh sound in the back of his throat, dipping his head down to try to catch her gaze.
“That’s bullshit. You’re my partner. I’m not gonna fucking dump you just ‘cause you made a mistake. That’s not how this works, how we work.” She finally met his gaze, a little fire kicking up in her anger.
“Oh, it’s not? Then why have you been avoiding me like the fucking plague ever since?” She didn’t get an answer, Joel breaking away and quietly muttering that they needed to get home.
Another agonizingly quiet walk back to Jackson.
When they got back, she was quick to stomp off toward their house, but could feel Joel watching her the whole way as he trailed behind. She was sick of getting jerked around by him, and now it seemed the tables were turned and it was she who wanted him out of her sight.
She took the stairs two at a time, quickly shuffling into the upstairs bathroom and shutting the door behind her. She wasn’t expecting there to be so much blood spattered across her face when she looked in the mirror, and the sight made her pause, her breath catching in her throat. It wasn’t the first and it wouldn’t be the last time she had to harshly scrub away the remnants of violence. 
The soft click of the bathroom door opening didn’t stop her from continuing to drag a damp washcloth across her face, skin going red and splotchy under her ministrations. 
“Hey, hey. Just stop– will you look at me, please?” Calloused hands grabbed her wrists to stop her movements, turning her toward him. Joel let out a long sigh when she still wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“Look, I’m sorry for the way I acted. I was never mad at you– was mad at the fucking situation. A-and I was trying to create some distance before I said something I didn’t mean. Never wanna hurt you– you’re– I–” he stopped himself with another sigh, leaning back against the sink. She tentatively stepped between his legs, her wrists still held firm in his hands between them.
“I’m sorry too, Joel. It was an accident– but it was a stupid one. Fucking hate that I let you down.” He let go of her wrists to bring one hand to cup her jaw, tilting her head to finally get her to meet his gaze.
“Didn’t let me down. Even if you did– more than made up for it today with the way you took out those fucking fools.” That coaxed a half-hearted smile from her as she leaned into his touch.
“We did that together.” He nodded lightly, thumb stroking the arc of her cheek and making her breath hitch.
“We did. Make a good team. Right, partner?” Her smile stretched into a grin at his words.
“Right– partner.” When he kissed her, it felt different. This wasn’t their usual lust-driven tangles. It was careful, and dizzyingly sweet, something she hadn’t known Joel was capable of. He pulled away just slightly to rest his forehead against hers as they silently followed the push and pull of each other’s breath. 
“You know I wouldn’t do that, right? Would never leave you.” She sighed, nodding her head slightly against his.
“I know you wouldn’t. But it wouldn’t hurt to be reminded every now and again.” That made him chuckle as he brought his other hand to her hip, squeezing lightly.
“Consider this your first reminder then.” 
The kiss he gave her that time was just as sweet as the first. It was all the reminding she needed.
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btskitty17 · 18 days ago
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The Yandere Doll Walks Free at Christmas 🪽 pt.2 Get Ya
(Jungkook X Reader Series)
Pt. 2 : Get Ya
part 1: wishlist
pt. 3 cinnamon
masterlist
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"I understand that you filled out a Toybox application form, requesting a boyfriend?” She really had had been too much of a good girl. But the last thing that she had expected was to actually end on the top of the Nice list on Christmas Eve and get exactly what she had asked for…or not. As she grows increasingly fond of his pattering presence in the background, she begins to ponder whether a present from Santa Claus is supposed to possess such a darkly dominant disposition, which only begins to expose itself bit by bit.
part 1: wishlist part 3: cinnamon
main masterlist
genre: slight humour, dark fantasy au ୨୧
🪽 ongoing (10-ish parts of 1-2k words throughout December 🎅🎄✩ ₊˚🦌⊹♡❆⛄)
warnings: jungkook x fem! reader (insert any name of your choice), yandere behaviour displayed by the male main character: possessive, controlling + clingy tendencies, eventual smut, seemingly chaste fantasy with a sinister twist
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🎄~ ୨୧ 🎄~ ୨୧ 🎄~ ୨୧
___ stumbled backwards, stunned by the horrifying expression on Jungkook’s face: a product of her outburst declaring that he was certainly not her boyfriend. She was already unnerved by his unexplained presence in her house and was now unsure of what to make of his insistence on becoming her significant other; the situation itself was unfathomable, how could she ever explain to someone that a handsome young man was delivered to house and he stood underneath her Christmas tree like a good, obedient doll, waiting for her to wake up, only to look at her with an unmistakably dark countenance later when she told him that she could not be his girlfriend.
How could she belong to him? She did not even know him.
“I want you to take a look at the booklet accompanying my toybox. It would explain all of the questions that may now be floating around in your mind. I am neither a criminal nor a prankster; this is real, no matter how ridiculous it sounds to your ears now, I am your present from Santa,” Jungkook said in a stern tone, indicating that he was no longer going to indulge in bantering with her, desperately attempting to explain himself.
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Inside a voluminous folder placed in the toybox, there were documents with his whole government name and identity papers that would assist him in navigating through the real world as ___’s partner, and even a photocopy of the letter in which ___ asked for a boyfriend for Christmas; so there it goes, the strange man in her living room was legitimate after all. ___ was not at all ready for Santa to respond to her wish so promptly.
___ still could not wrap her head around the fact that the beginning of her new courtship had been catalysed by a seemingly benign Letter to Santa custom.
“I don’t think anyone has ever resisted their present so determinedly, so unpleasant; I am the top Santa Isle worker, how could this be,” Jungkook huffed to himself, watching ___ go through the documents with an unreadable expression glued to her face.
"Where are you from, again?"
"Santa I-.... Wait, I detect sarcasm. I do do mention it way too much."
“So, I am just supposed to accept you as my boyfriend? I understand that you are here to carry out a task: it is a professional obligation for you but, I can’t just date someone I met like, ten minutes ago. I am still unsure of your origin. Are you even a human being? Why are you radiating such an ungodly amount of heat in the middle of a snow-swamped winter?” ___ wondered, thinking back to the moment when she almost let herself be cradled to sleep in his arms.
“This is…all just too much,” ___ closed her eyes, pressing her fingertips against her forehead. How could she possibly take in and process this information all at once?
The truth was, for Jungkook, it was more than just a professional duty… he had been monitoring ___’s activities since the very day that she stepped into Little Smiles, a shelter that caters to underprivileged children, and also a place that is on the Santa Isle’s workers radar who observe it year-round to ensure that they can deliver whatever the children need and more during the holidays. Around Valentine’s Day, that same year, ___ had walked into the children’s centre for the first time, carrying a bagful of snacks and a few boxes of stationery supply, unsure of what would be appropriate for her maiden visit. She actually invested her time and tried to remember the names of the kids who surrounded her with eager smiles on their faces while she played board-games with them: something which became a bimonthly ritual for her, and her heart would brim with tranquility whenever the children came pouring outwards from the gateway to greet her, hug her or show her their drawings. Jungkook had witnessed it all, from a safe distance of course.
Jungkook had noticed the sway in ___’s hips as she strolled towards her workplace or the children’s shelter, and how the floral sundress collated snugly around her evident curves, and most importantly, he had perceived the angelic-white goodness that shined out of her very being: the sort of purity he would like to possess. It was only fitting for a kind-hearted woman like her to belong to a Santa Isle worker, who was, of course, the bearer of all things pleasant and a bringer of joy, by definition. And most ardently, he wanted to shield her from anything else in the world that was not as good as her, and that was only possible if he could be by her chaste side, all the time. He was a self-styled guardian, and not a longtime stalker, mind you.
“So, you are like an elf?” ___ wondered out loud as Jungkook stared at her from across the room, filing all the papers back into the folder.
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"Yeah, I guess you could say that. But, I am certainly more fashionable," he chuckled, revealing a an innocuous bunny smile which made his eyes scrunch up at the sides, absolutely nothing like the man who had given ___ a thunderous glance a few moments ago.
As ___ stood in front of Jungkook in a flimsy tank-top, her nipples jaunty against the fabric, owing to the cold weather whilst wearing the most innocent of expressions on Christmas morning, he felt as if it was his wish-list that Santa Claus had taken care of. Of course, he had to compete with several of his colleagues in order to come out as the top worker and finally be able to choose which year-end Santa Isle project he wanted to work on, and then finally, he was assigned to be her boyfriend. Jungkook licked his lips, averting his eyes away from her invitingly pillowy-seeming chest and suggested that he could make her that cup of coffee that she had been craving for so long.
"But, I still do not comprehend how this boyfriend thing would work..."
"I happen to have a thorough list of things to do, angel."
𓍼Man, Jungkook is serving cvnt in his id card pic.
and, if you cant tell THAT Vogue photoshoot JK has a chokehold on me.
(will update my main masterlist with newer parts as i write, thank you for reading 🎀)
DISCLAIMER 
This is a work of fanfiction with the BTS members as characters; I do not claim ownership to the aforementioned characters. This fanfiction has been written solely for entertainment.
© @btskitty17 on tumblr 2024
~ ୨୧ ♡ · ₊
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4ln-stay8 · 1 year ago
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Below zero
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>summary: Lando takes you outside to dance with you in the snow
>author’s note: its been a while since the last fic…
>warning: fluff
The crisp winter air filled the quaint town as you and Lando strolled through the snow-covered streets, the glow of Christmas lights illuminating the surroundings. You were visiting Lando's family for Christmas, and the town had transformed into a winter wonderland.
As you entered the cozy living room of Lando's childhood home, the warmth of family enveloped you. Laughter and the aroma of holiday treats hung in the air. Lando's family welcomed you with open arms, and soon, the room buzzed with cheerful conversations.
“Lando, love, it’s so good to see you, I missed you so much! And Y/n, it’s so good to see you again. Come in, come in!” Said Lando’s mom as you walked into the living room
“Hi mom! I missed you too!” Said Lando giving Cisca a big hug
You said hello to everyone and hugged each of them as you didn’t saw them in a while. Lando’s family loved you from the very first moment they saw you. They could read in your eyes how much you loved their son and brother. They saw how happy you made him and how much you cared for each other.
It was the week before Christmas, the town was blanketed in fresh snow, and you just couldn't contain your excitement. "Lando, look at how beautiful it is outside! Can we go for a walk later?" you asked, your eyes sparkling with joy.
Lando grinned, captivated by your enthusiasm. "Absolutely, love. We can sneak out for a bit."
As the evening progressed, the snowfall intensified, creating a magical scene outside. Lando, feeling the pull of your infectious excitement, excused himself from the family gathering, taking your hand as you ventured into the snowy night.
You couldn’t contain your excitement, “Lando, this is so magical! I’ve always dreamt of a snowy Christmas.” you said admiring the snow
Lando chuckled, “I knew you’d love it. Come on, there’s something I want to show you.” He gently pulled you towards middle of the backyard
Your eyes widened as he fiddled with his phone, “What are you up to, Lando?”
He smirked, “Just wait.” Lando said his eyes fixed on his phone, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "I've got something special for you," he teased, fingers dancing across the screen.
A soft melody started playing, and your eyes widened with delight. "Is this our song?" you asked, recognizing the tune that held a special place in your hearts.
Lando nodded, his eyes locked onto yours “Care for a dance, my love?” he said gaining a nod from you
Your heart skipped a beat as you swayed to the music, your laughter mingling with the soft falling snowflakes. The world around you disappeared, leaving only the two of you in your own winter wonderland.
“You planned this, didn’t you?” you asked giggling
Lando winked, “Maybe a little. I know how much you wanted to dance in the snow” You swayed gracefully to the music, the snowflakes dancing around you.
“You’re so romantic!” you said giving him a soft kiss
“Only for you my love” he whispers kissing you again then he twirls you
You laughed, “Your family is probably wondering where we disappeared to.”
Lando twirled you again “Let them wonder. This moment is ours.”
As you danced, you looked up at the falling snow, “It’s like a winter wonderland.”
Lando smiled, “Just for you.” He pulled you closer, “You know, you’re the best thing that happened to me this year.”
You blushed, “I could say the same thing about you, Norris.”
You continued to dance, the snowflakes creating a magical atmosphere around you. Lando gazed into your eyes, “I’m glad I get to share moments like these with you.”
You rested your head on his shoulder, “Me too, Lando. Me too.”
You danced until the song faded away, leaving you wrapped in each other’s warmth.
"Thank you for making this Christmas unforgettable," you whispered, your eyes reflecting the love that filled your heart.
Lando smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "No, thank you for being the best part of my holidays."
“I love you so much Lando!” you whispered looking into his eyes, love and adoration written all over them
“I love you so much as well my love” he whispered back to you, kissing you lovingly
As the cold started to get to you, hand in hand, you made your way back to the warmth of his family's home, the echoes of your laughter lingering in the snowy night, making it one of the best nights of your life and the memory one of your forever favourites,
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locsandletters · 9 days ago
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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.
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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.
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