#ALSO even if you’re not the secret Santa person you can ask questions about my character(s)

[shizandgiggles]

(Finally got this together)

Refs for Jacenotjason’s server Scret Santa event!

Welcome Home OP OC (Petey Partial):

^If you need any other information about his design I can deliver

Or also my Splatoon (3) character:

^If you draw him just please use blue ink instead!!

Tomorrow I’ll prop reblog this with information on my guys it’s way too late to me rn 💔

[getmeoutofhell]

Art The Clown x Clown! Reader

summary: reader has been keeping their love secret for weeks, but art decided to put reader’s thoughts to rest.

warnings: reader is almost the same as art, meaning they are also a murder.

a/n: this is very short, but i wanted to try something out with my writing. if you want more clown reader fics, send me a request!

this is it. this is the day you finally ask art to be your boyfriend. this has been on your mind for the past 4 to 5 weeks, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to say it to him yet. you liked him for some time, ever since you saw him in that laundromat, and once you saw his long pointy face, you knew you loved him.

but, here you are, shaking and nervous to say or do anything. you’re a murderer, someone who hurts people, but when it comes to him, all that goes away temporarily. your mind starts to get filled with thoughts of you and him, living away together, forgetting about this mess of a life. if only you were strong.

“hey art. when did you get here??” as you start rambling in your head, you see art in the doorway of your room, staring at you with those beautiful dark black eyes. you wonder if there’s a soul lurked underneath the surface. maybe he’s a real person under the makeup and costume, but you’ll never get the answers you seek. he just looks at you, not doing anything. if you were a normal person, the stare would creep you out, but it comforts you in a way. you slowly get up and walk over to him, hearing the floor boards creek underneath your clown shoes. he was a mastermind, a man no one should trust, let alone love. you reach your arms out to hug him, seeing his eyes twinkle at the sight of you. you feel your dead heart flutter at it. as you hug him, you breath in his scent. the scent of blood, gut, and piss. he’s a disgusting thing, but you still couldn’t help but like him. he was everything to you.

he reaches to the back of your head, gently rubbing at your hair. you’re surprised a man like him can be so gentle yet deadly. does he know you like him?? does he like you?? these questions flood your mind as he just rubs the back of your skull. the questions shut down once he backs away from you, placing both of his hands on each side of your face. he has on his santa outfit, as you take notice of all the blood stains on it. all of sudden the mood in the air changes, he leans in, close enough to feel his hot breath against your face. you don’t say anything at his actions.

he kisses you. it was sudden, so sudden you didn’t notice his lips was even on yours at first. you kissed him back, so happy to finally feel the feeling of his lips against yours. his lips were dry, but that didn’t matter to you, all that mattered was that he was here, with you.

🤡🤘🏾

[eevees-hobbies]

Loving You is My Tradition - NSFW (Fem!Reader x Toji Fushiguro)

AN: A Christmas-Themed Fic for @benkeibear as part of @pixelcafe-network's Secret Santa event! Merry Christmas, Luma! Surprise! I’m your annoying Secret Santa. Thanks for playing along with me while I kept slinking into your ask box. Also, fun fact: this is the longest thing I’ve ever posted on this hellsite. Growth.

Synopsis: In which your boyfriend, Toji, shows you that he can get into the holiday spirit, too!

CW: Fem!Reader x Toji Fushiguro. Established relationship. Christmas-centered. Soft/Introspective Toji. Brief mention of fucking him with a strap, Ass smacking, dirty talk, kissing, thigh riding, cunnilingus, dominant Toji, sub/dom reader, a lil biting, hair pulling, a handjob, use of the word whore but lovingly, reader is called baby girl, baby, pretty girl, and good girl. Minors Do Not Interact. || Word Count: 3.9K

Banner by me. Divider by @saradika-graphics

“You’re stressin’ me out, babe,” Toji calls out as his thumb flicks mindlessly across his phone's glossy–but still cracked–screen. 

Your eyes flick over to him, observing that he looks anything but stressed—loose grey sweatpants hugging his narrow waist, black muscle tee clinging to the swell of his pecs, and legs kicked up on your table as though that’s where all civilized people park their feet. 

“The only thing “stressful” about the holidays, Toji, is your lack of Christmas cheer,” you announce as you move a side table out of the way, making room for the 8-foot Christmas tree you plan on purchasing. 

Toji’s eyes narrow as you call him out for being a stereotypical Grinch. But you’re not wrong, he actually hates Christmas: the roads are too crowded, lines are too long at his favorite stores and restaurants, and he hates how consumeristic the holiday is. And quite frankly, the holiday was a reminder of all the things he didn’t have. 

Well, actually, he hated Christmas. Emphasis on the use of past tense here because he’s had a recent change of heart regarding the holiday. The catalyst to his shift in world-view? You, of course. 

Sure, Christmas still sucks, but he’s found that over the years, it sucks even less because he has someone to come home to after a long job, someone who gifts him thoughtful shit without expecting anything in return, and someone who looks at him as if his hands aren't stained with blood, and as if the specters of past deeds and lives don't linger behind his eyes.

But most of all, watching you get hyped up about activities like decorating the Christmas tree or trying out a new cookie recipe makes him feel things he’s afraid to put a name to verbally. 

He’s afraid to put a name to the fact that you’re the first person in a long while that has him looking forward to calling this place you share with him, home. 

You make him yearn and ache, and he wants to be the strongest person in the world for you while simultaneously seeking the comfort that only you can provide. You are a contradiction that he gladly welcomes into his life. 

But he’s always known—always felt this—ever since he first laid eyes on you and felt practically delirious at how fast and hard he fell for you. 

It was the heart quickening, palm sweating, wondering what you’re doing and why you’re not texting him kind of delirium that had him questioning absolutely everything. 

At the sound of your voice, Toji is brought out of his thoughts. “Are you going to help me?”

“Naw, my ass is a bit sore after last night, so I can’t do any heavy lifting.” He crosses his legs over one another as if to drive home the point further that his glutes will be permanently glued to the cushion of your couch for the remainder of the night.

The corner of your lip twitches at his reference to your extracurricular activities that led to him being reduced to a whining, whimpering mess on your strap the night before. “Funny that you can dish it out but can’t take it, pillow princess.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?” He barks out, but it’s too late. You’re already heading into a different room, probably to throw up obnoxious Christmas decorations in the bathroom or some other less-than-ideal place. 

He just hopes it isn’t the Santa-themed shower curtains. Who the fuck needs Santa Claus staring at their junk when they’re trying to take a piss?

Truth be told, Toji was trying to conserve his energy. He had a long night ahead of him—a long night for which he needed you fast asleep. 

He didn’t need you to know about his plans to do something special for you, and he certainly didn’t need your input every ten seconds about how Dancer and Prancer should be next to each other, and Dasher should be near Cupid…

Who. Gives. A. Fuck? Not Toji!

But she gives a fuck, so that means he has to give a fuck, he thinks, dragging a palm down across his face in exasperation. And so he looks up the lyrics to “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and commits the names of the silly cartoon animals to memory. 

“You seriously don’t have a tradition, Toji?” He looks up from his phone to see you carrying a giant reef to hang on the door outside. “You don’t have a single Christmas tradition that puts a smile on that mean mug of yours?”

“Just one,” he murmurs, knowing you can’t hear him through the thick wood of the door. 

Wall-shaking thumps and the sound of something heavy being dragged rouse you from your sleep that same night. 

You think it has been going on for a few hours now, but being between sleep and reality has made you less inclined to check out the noise. Besides, if Toji—your shoot-first, ask-questions-never boyfriend—isn’t worried about it, neither are you.

As you turn to your side–a feeble attempt to lull yourself back to sleep–you notice that Toji is missing from his usual bedside. It isn’t unusual–sometimes he has trouble sleeping at night, and you find him sitting by himself in the living room, lost in the recesses of his brain, which he chooses not to burden you with.

Your eyes shoot upward at the ceiling as you continue to hear something knocking rather aggressively against the roof. Against your better judgment, you decide to investigate. You begrudgingly tear yourself away from the comfort of your warm bed and grab the robe you usually wear for lazy days around the house.

“I swear, if I see a man in a big red suit, I’m going to ask Toji to hide the body,” you grumble as you open your front door, your boots sinking into fresh snow as you tilt your head and look above.

Toji hears the sound of the door creaking open. Knowing it isn’t anyone but you, he peers over the side of the rain gutters, only to shoot you a glare at your lack of appropriate clothing for the weather.

God, you frustrating, annoying, beautiful, perfect woman. What the hell are you wearing? He thinks as he anchors the last reindeer into position. 

And with perfect precision, Toji jumps off the roof, rising from crouching to standing before you can fully turn your attention to him. “What the fuck are you doing out here in nothing but a robe?” He growls, pulling you closer to him.

And he’s right. It’s incredibly cold outside, but you can’t pull your eyes away from the roof. All the Christmas decorations that had previously been in storage and that you had planned to put up yourself were already up and shining vibrantly. 

Bulbed lights of reds, greens, and yellows adorn the rim of your roof, and a red sleigh pulled by nine reindeer—all in their proper positions—stands placed in a way that makes it look like they’re ready for take-off.

“Say something,” he grumbles, kicking some of the snow at his feet mindlessly and looking everywhere but at you at that moment. 

Your heart clenches because even though it’s discrete, you can hear a hint of vulnerability in his gruff voice.

“You did all this for me? I…this is so sweet, Toji.”

The wonder shining behind your eyes and ringing in your voice has Toji looking up at you from where his bangs had fallen into his face. The lights he strung up pale in comparison to the radiance you emit. You’re a picture of everything that’s right in his world.

No, a picture would and could never do you justice. 

Fresh snow is still falling from the sky, dusting your hair in white crystalline shapes that make Toji’s eyes soften. His gloved hand reaches instinctively to clear the fallen snow from your tresses, but he stops, wanting nothing more than to keep you memorialized like this.

He has so much bad shit burned into his mind that when he can commit something pure and beautiful like this moment, like you, in his mind, he does.

And who is he to diminish the light of an angel's halo?

“Of course, I did this for you, dummy. You get so wrapped up in the Christmas bullshit. If you were anyone else, anyone who wasn’t you, I’d probably make fun of you for it.”

You nod silently as you allow him the space to express himself, especially knowing how tough this time of year is for him. Toji rants and raves about the expensive nature of the holiday, but you know his foul mood stems from something deeper.

After a beat, he continues despite the strain you hear in his voice. “But I like seeing you happy. And I know sometimes I’m not always the source of your happiness, fuck, I’m probably the source of your irritation sometimes, too,” He trails off, both of you chuckling at his joke as you lean further into his warmth.

His face quickly sobers, “A couple of hours ago you asked me if I had a tradition and I think my answer is a little untraditional, but my tradition is you. All I want is to make you happy, smile, and be someone you can depend on, always, but especially now.”

You blink rapidly, willing the fast-forming moisture to stay at bay while you swallow thickly and continue to listen in silence. 

“Sometimes, you give so much of yourself to others, always making sure that everyone else is ok before you even think about yourself, and I wanted to do something, anything, to show you that you’re at the top of someone’s mind.”

For a moment, you don’t know what to say because this is so uncharacteristically sweet of him. Toji has his sweet moments, but those are more subtle. But here Toji is not only performing a grand gesture, but it’s also accompanied by a speech that is clearly from the depths of his heart. 

And when you tear your eyes away from the blinking lights to look at him, your heart can only ache. Because he looks like he’s holding his breath to hear what you have to say–his cheeks are flushed a light pink, misty air is jutting out in plumes from his lips, and his eyes are vulnerable and wanting even as he tries his best to hide it.

“This means so much to me, Toji.”

He nods, his lips curling into a small smirk. It’s as if your validation pumps air into his chest.

“Good, because gift option #2 was my dick in a box. Now, let's get inside–I’m freezing my balls off out here.”

He delivers a playful slap to your ass–palm meeting clothed flesh in a loud smack that echoes through the empty street.

You didn’t realize how cold you were until you stepped back inside your home. Your body began to tremble, and the robe did little to retain your heat. 

Toji notices, too, and he frowns, grunting his displeasure and helping you strip out of your quickly dampening robe. A low, satisfied grumble reverberates through his chest as he watches your flesh reveal, inch-by-tantalizing inch.

“Idiot, you came outside in a robe and your underclothes?” His tone is half incredulous and half in awe, eyes raking over your curves and swells with rapt—and perverted—attention.

“I thought it was an emergency! Who has time for jeans when there’s a man on a roof?” 

He can’t help but roll his eyes, but the corner of his lip twitches, the scar on his lip looking more prominent with the movement. 

Toji leans in, his tongue darting out to lick the shell of your ear. “You know, skin-to-skin contact is the fastest way to warm someone up. Let me put some color back into those cheeks, baby.”

He backs you up against the wall while shedding his winter coat and gloves. “I think I deserve a reward for my efforts, don’t you?”

“Is that why you did it?” you chide back softly with a shaky breath as he dips his head low and licks a long stripe along your neck. His tongue is warm and yet you still can’t help the goosebumps that appear on your arm or the way your nipples harden as if a cool draft just blew past.

“Naw, but it don’t hurt.”

And with a chuckle, Toji is lifting you up effortlessly, tossing you over his shoulder, and carrying you into your shared bedroom. If there was any confusion about his intentions, his firm grip on your ass with the occasional, hearty smack and squeeze to your malleable flesh allows you to speculate. 

The vulnerable Toji you caught a glimpse of outside is nowhere to be found as he tosses you onto the mattress. “Fuck, I love the way you bounce,” he purrs as he slots himself between your thighs.

His mouth is on yours–hot, all-consuming, and demanding. Toji always kisses you as though tonight could be your final kiss, and you kiss him as though you’re trying to convince him that that simply isn’t the case. 

His hands waste no time pushing apart your legs, exposing your panty-clad core to his heated gaze. You, desiring his attention, spread yourself willingly to him. 

But instead of touching you where you need him most, his thumbs settles between the smooth flesh of your inner thighs, rubbing small tight circles against your skin as he coaxes your tongue out of your mouth to dance with his.

You buck your hips in an attempt to get him to move his fingers higher but he clicks his tongue in disapproval, gripping your hip and keeping you in place. 

“How about,” he muses softly as he trails open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck. “You ride my thigh like a good girl first, yeah? Show me how a good girl behaves, and I’ll give you exactly what you’re soaking the bed sheets for.”

And just how he slotted his waist against your sex, he’s now replacing his torso with his thigh which is firm but does little to quell the heat between your legs. 

But you’re no stranger to this sort of request from him. The open-mouthed kisses against your pulse point pause as if he’s daring–waiting–for you to disobey.

“Yes, Toji.” You grip his shoulders and start to grind yourself against his thigh, and he lets out a low approving groan. 

“Thaaaaat’s a good girl,” he drawls out as the hand on your hip gives a supportive squeeze and guides your movements.

Seeing you so submissive and so agreeable makes an undeniable fire burn within his abdomen and makes his cock drool precum in the confines of his boxers. 

“H-how long?” you pant, your hungry eyes meeting his. He reaches down, cupping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, dark eyes boring into yours as he spreads your legs further apart with his thigh. 

“Until I say otherwise.”

You let out a soft groan, as he shifts his thigh, pressing it harder into your slick, throbbing sex. Even through the barrier of your underwear, the friction is delicious. 

Toji smirks as he watches you, your hips undulating side-to-side, up-and-down, hitching when you hit the occasional spot that makes your eyes almost roll into the back of your head. He licks his lips as he watches a small wet spot form into the denim of his jeans where your cunt is rubbing against. 

“Look at you. You’re always so messy” he coos condescendingly, but not without warmth. “Here, let me take care of you like I promised.”

And take care of you he does. He hooks his thumbs through the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls the garment down, his smirk growing wider as you lift your hips to speed up the process.

 “My helpful, needy girl,” he murmurs. Toji lowers himself down between your thighs, broad shoulders acting as a natural thigh separator and leg rest for you.

Not once does he take his eyes off of you as he descends.

Not when his warm breath ghosts across your labia, making your clit twitch between your folds and descend further from the protection of its hood.

Not when his thick tongue darts out, licking a long slow stripe up your slit and separating you down the middle with a muffled groan. 

And certainly not when he puckers his lips, creating a gentle suction around your clit with his mouth, alternating between slowly making out with your sensitive bud and firm suckles. 

“Come on, pretty girl. Ride my face like how you were riding my thigh,” he purrs as he briefly presses a love bite against your inner thigh, soothing it with his tongue and then returning to lavishing your cunt with his tongue. 

“You’re going to have to work for it, Toji Bear” you muster through a shaky moan, still finding the oxygen to tease him with one of your favorite nicknames. Your fingers thread through his hair, gently tugging at the dark tresses as you grind your cunt against his mouth.

And Toji? Toji volunteers up his tongue like an offering to your churning hips, moaning as you sink yourself deeper and deeper onto him, reveling in the squeeze of your slick, gummy walls against his tongue. 

“Fuck, yeah, love. Use me, baby. Fuck my face.” he encourages through barely restrained grunts which quickly divulge in gargles as he swallows every single drop you give. 

“Damn,” he finally says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His body moves up yours—predatory and practiced, like he owns the space between your thighs. 

Dark eyes bore into yours as one hand moves down to expertly unbutton his pants. His other tangles through your hair to angle your face for better access as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself. “Could drink you down for fucking days. Would you let me?”

Through heated, messy kisses, you nod even though he needn’t have to ask. You’d give him the world if he asked. 

A low hiss of approval slides past his lips as he feels the heat from your core. “I wanna take my time, but when you’re looking at me like this—like you’re asking to be split you open on my fat cock, and you’ll fucking die if I don’t give it to you, fuck, it makes me—“ 

And before he can finish, he’s spearing himself inside of you, fat cockhead kissing your womb in a way that makes you want to cry, beg, pray for more. 

Your nails find purchase against his shoulder blades enjoying the flex as he grips your thighs and folds you within yourself to get himself impossibly deeper. 

He pulls your hair, forcing you to look at the way his thick cock pulls out—glistening with your arousal, the white ring of your lust lathering his veined shaft—and pushes back in with a filthy squelch. 

“See? Isn’t this nice?” He pants, voice tilting upward in obvious mockery. “Getting all emotional and soft with you while still fucking you like a whore. Merry Christmas, right baby?”

All you can muster out is a soft whimper, his cock stealing your breath away with every willful stretch of your cunt. 

Toji, noticing your inability to speak, chuckles heartily. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.” His eyes roam over the entirety of you in this state—face contorted in pleasure, breasts bouncing, body folded in half yet still open for him like you were meant for this. 

For you, the fucking is good, really good, but there’s also something about everything that Toji previously shared with you that makes this feel deeper—as if a new avenue of connection was forged between you both.

Who knew that vulnerability could strengthen a relationship and act as foreplay? 

“Perfect,” he mutters as he feels his balls tightening, especially as they snap forcefully against your ass. “You want a real present, baby?”

You cry out something between a gargled “yes” and a strangled whimper. 

“Gonna give you one of your gifts early, baby girl. Ya ready for me? Ready to take my special gift to you?” he grunts, cock giving a valiant final twitch as the feeling of your walls squeezing him. 

Toji allows your body to unfold, going limp and sated as he collapses next to you. He pulls you into his arms, warm breath ghosting over the hair that curls around your ear. 

“Meant what I said,” he whispers after a beat. His fingers briefly dig into your arms as if out of fear that you’ll disappear. 

“I…don’t always express myself well, and you deserve more than I know how to give, but I’m glad I can give parts of myself to you, among other things.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his arousal-slick length as he nuzzles into your neck.

You shake your head in disbelief at his virility, but you still stroke his quickly hardening member. “You express yourself just fine, Toji,”

His hand finds purchase on your ass as he brings you closer to his side, a satisfied sigh escaping his kiss-swollen lips. “Naw, I think you’ve always just been able to read me really well.”

“Yeah?” A harsh squeeze from your hand causes him to buck his hips, a vocal groan ripping from his throat. 

“Yeah. Fuck, do that again.”

You offer another grip of your hand, this time slowing your strokes deliberately as you watch his head fall back. “Like this?” You whisper sweetly into his ear.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters, his hips bucking upward. You can’t help the smile that forms on your face at the sight of Toji Fushiguro trying to fuck your fist into another orgasm. 

“Maybe I’m not the only needy one,” you tease. Toji tilts his head towards yours, eyes half-lidded, “Shut up. We still have a few more days until Christmas, and I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

You let out a small giggle as you continue to stroke him, watching the way his breath hitches more often, indicating how worked up you’re getting him.

He puts one arm behind his head, reclining back, his other fist still kneading your ass as his eyes begin to close.

 “Keep your eyes on the way I stroke your cock, Toji Bear. Or else I’ll stop.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” his large hand envelopes yours to keep it in place, but even with that effort, you stop pumping. He lets out a frustrated growl, sitting himself up on his elbows as he watches your strokes continue up and down his cock. 

As he watches you work him over, you can’t help but notice the way his eyelids flutter and his breathing grows more labored. “See? Doesn’t it make more sense for you to watch, pervert?” 

You rub your thumb across the underside of his cock, knowing how sensitive that particular spot is as you stroke him faster. Precum beads at the tip and bubbles down his shaft in droves. 

“G-gonna get you for calling me that.” Toji lets out a guttural moan as white, hot cum leaks from his cock in a stream that is far less copious, but still impressive, due to his previous orgasm. You watch as it coats your hand, marveling as it cools against your heated skin.

Despite his early warning—which lacks any real consequence, he moves his face to yours and kisses you, deep, slow, and not like this might be your final kiss. And you kiss him as if with reassurance that he’s right—because he is—there will be far more kisses to come from now, until the end of the year and certainly beyond. 

[traveler-at-heart]

The Tooth Fairy

Summary: Your daughter gets a generous visit.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Sorry for the weird format, I’m on my phone. Also, fun game, drink everytime you find the word fairy in this fic 🧚

“Mom!”

Your daughhter’s scream puts you immediately on edge.

Her voice is quivering, as if she’s not sure she should be crying over what’s happening.

“What is it, sweetie?” you kneel next to her on the playground, mentally counting all her fingers and checking for injuries. You have to stay calm for her sake.

“My tooth fell off” Anya says, showing it to you. “Does this mean that I can’t eat chocolate anymore?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s fine” you pick her up and carry her to the park bench. “These are called baby teeth. They’ll fall off and then you’ll get your new ones. And those are for good.”

“Promise?”

“Well, yes. Unless you eat too much chocolate. Then you’ll get cavities”

Anya keeps looking at the tooth in her hand and then offers it to you. Closing one eye, you examine it as if it were a diamond.

“The tooth fairy is gonna be real happy with this one”

“There’s a fairy?” Anya perks up and you smile.

“Oh, yes. You have to leave it under your pillow with a small note and then they’ll pick it up. Leave you a dollar or two if they think it’s a good tooth”

“I wanna write the note, can we go home now?”

“Yes, sweetie” you carry her, relieved now that Anya seems happier.

—-

It’s not an easy task, but you persuade Anya to wait for her other mom to write the note. You’re sure Natasha wouldn’t wanna miss it.

After all, this is the same woman that almost cried when she was away on a mission and your daughter sneezed for the first time.

“I’m home” you hear the door open and close. Anya smiles, eager to tell her mom about the highlight of the day.

“Mama” she jumps to her arms, wavy red hair flying as Natasha catches her.

“Someone is very happy to see me”

“I’m happy to see you too” you say, leaning forward and giving her a quick kiss.

“Then why aren’t you jumping into my arms?”

“Mama, I’m going to meet the tooth fairy!” Anya interrupts you, pulling her tooth from the pocket of her pants.

“Your first tooth? And I missed it?”

Damn it, she’s gonna cry again. You can’t have that.

“Baby, you didn’t miss it. Anya still has to write a letter. She’s been waiting for you”

“Yeah, come on” Anya bounces on her arms, encouraging Natasha to go to the living room.

“I’ll work on dinner while you two do that, ok?” you kiss Natasha’s cheek and let her enjoy the time with Anya.

From your spot on the kitchen, you can hear Anya asking all sorts of questions about the fairy lore.

She’s a smart kid, so all Natasha does is hand her the crayons she requests. Anya falls silent, and then begins to write the letter.

“All done?” your wife says and Anya covers the sheet of paper with her tiny hands.

“This is a secret letter”

Natasha looks at you, both struggling to hold your smiles.

“Dinner’s ready” you announce, serving pasta.

Anya giggles when the spaguetti goes through the whole her tooth left.

“Baby, don’t play with your food like that” you scold. Then you turn to Natasha for support, only to find her creating a spaguetti mustache that leaves her face full of sauce. “Honestly, Natalia”

“Mama is in trouble” Anya laughs.

“She’s doing the dishes, that’s for sure” you agree.

After dinner, Natasha prepares a bath for Anya while you clean the kitchen. You both know you’re too obsessive to leave the cleaning to anyone else.

You go to the study to write a small thank you note for Anya from the tooth fairy. You even add some glitter for extra flare.

Tucking it in the back of your pocket, you walk into your daughter’s room to wish her goodnight.

“Is it under your pillow?” you check and she nods, yawning.

“I wanna wait for them”

“Oh, the fairy only shows up when you’re asleep, darling. Like Santa”

“Are they friends?” Anya says, quickly falling asleep.

“Yeah, you could say they’re practically the same person” Natasha whispers and you nudge her with your elbow. Anya is already asleep, so it doesn’t really matter if she heard that last part.

Quietly, you take the letter from under her bed and place yours instead.

“Why are your hands all shiny?” Natasha asks as you’re getting ready for bed.

“Welll, I am a fairy, baby. Haven’t you heard?” you tap the tip of her nose, leaving some glitter on it.

“I’m happy I was here for this” Natasha says against your shoulder as you cuddle.

“Me too” you say, your eyelids heavy. “Oh, crap. I forgot to leave the money under Anya’s pillow”

“That’s ok, I’ll do it”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. You’re the stealthy spy here” you smile when Natasha kisses your neck and leaves the bed. You’re so tired you fall asleep before she comes back.

—

The smell of coffee wakes you up.

Coffee and pancakes. Stretching, you get out of bed, feeling relaxed and happy.

“Hey, baby” you greet your wife, admiring her toned arm muscles accentuated by the white tank top.

“Morning, detka” she smiles, adding more pancakes to the plate next to the stove. “Breakfast is ready”

“I’m hungry for other things” you lift the edge of her tank top, scratching Natasha’s abs with your nails. She follows your lead, tilting her head and parting her lips to let your tongue explore her mouth.

“Mom, mama!” Anya says, running out of her room. You sigh against Natasha’s lips and step away. “They were here! I woke up and there was a letter with some glitter”

“That’s awesome, sweetie” you smile, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You turn to your daughter as you take a sip.

“And look! She left me this!”

Anya waves a hundred dollar bill in front of you, making you choke on your coffee.

“Wow, that fairy won the lottery since the last time I saw her” you catch your breath.

“Is this enough to buy a pony?”

“No, darling. Go set the table, I’ll bring you some juice and pancakes, ok?”

“Can I watch tv while having breakfast?”

“Fine” Natasha answers and you wait for your daughter to be out of earshot to talk to her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Uh, baby, did you leave all that money for Anya?”

“Yes, I didn’t know how much to put and you were asleep”

“Ok, for future reference, five bucks is more than fine” you smile, placing your hands on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry” she looks defeated and you try to cheer her up.

“Don’t be, it’s fine. We’ll use the savings we have for the rest of the teeh and then send her to community college”

“Stop!” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Come on, it’s ok” you kiss her softly. “We’ll tell her that the fairy had to pay her mortgage and is broke. I’ll even add less glitter on the next letter”

“You’re taking this glitter thing too seriously”

“Well, we have to rely on Alexei to play Santa. At least I get to have some fun with this”

—

Later that day, as your friends get together for a barbecue, Anya shows everyone the place where her tooth once was; luckily, she left the money at home.

That doesn’t stop Billy and Tommy from finding out. Pretty soon, they’re asking their mom about the tooth fairy and if there’s a special deal for twins.

“They left 100 dollars for Anya” Billy shouts and everyone falls silent.

“Oh, wow. Maybe the fairy can visit me as well” Sam smiles. You kick him under the table.

Unfortunately for Natasha, you have to explain everything when Wanda convinces the twins to go back to play.

“Don’t sweat it, Red. Everything’s so expensive nowadays, it’s only fair Anya starts saving now”

“Oh, you’re one to talk” Pepper points at Tony. “He left a blank check under Morgan’s pillow the first time she lost a tooth”

Everyone laughs at that, Tony adjusting in his seat.

“Would you like to adopt me?” Sam asks after a minute.

—

“I got the door” you whisper. Natasha is carrying Anya to her room. It was a fun afternoon of playing with friends and then doing the math on how many plushies she could get with all that money.

She’s fast asleep, and you wait by the door as Natasha tucks her in.

“You ok?” you want to double check, knowing she can be insecure about motherhood.

“I just wish I knew everything”

“Well, so do I. I wish I knew how to stay calm. Remember last week when she hurt her hand with the stove? I thought I was going to throw up and you handled it while I panicked”

“It’s nothing”

“It’s a lot, Tasha. We love you. And we need you” you kiss her softly and she smiles against your lips.

“Wanna read the letter?” you offer once you’re settled in bed. Your wife nods and you take it out of your nighstand. “Dear Miss Fairy - very formal. This is my tooth, it felll off while I was playing. Mom told me you take them and leave some money. My Mama helped me draw this. I love my moms and I want to buy them ice cream and chocolate with the money you give me. Hugs, Anya Romanoff”

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You both are” Natasha says as you cuddle, kissing her neck.

“We love you”

“So, what do we do next time?”

“We tell her the fairy is getting heer a car at 16 and hopefully she’ll forget about it by then” you smile, confident.

Of course, she doesn’t.

[kimsohn]

in each other's arms

pairing . roommates! mingi x gn reader about . 3k+ words, fluff warnings . i have an unhealthy obsession with writing when i’m sleep-deprived take this as you will. i also don’t write long fics so i’m super sorry in advance. reader has a thing for mingi’s arms (who doesn’t), there is cursing involved, slight mentions of alcohol, reader calls mingi annoying and stupid a couple of times but it’s endearingly, this is not proofread yolo

synopsis . you don’t understand why your roommate is suddenly afraid of the dark, but maybe offering him space to sleep next to you wasn’t the worst idea you’ve ever had. note . wrote this for a secret santa fic and decided to post here as well! i don't really stan ateez but writing this has definitely made me some sort of mingi stan 😭 also this was inspired by this episode of curious george, not crucial to understand the fic but definitely helpful

You’re not quite sure how your roommate grew so accustomed to watching Curious George episodes every night, but it’s become a, to put simply, very distracting routine.

Returning home from work to find Mingi, part-time barista and your personal full-time teddy bear, watching a TV show wasn’t uncommon. Heck, customer service jobs were so horrible that even you would settle in front of the screen for the remainder of the day. You’d often walk in on a new Netflix series and even indulge in them with him, humming soundtracks while you both made dinner together or fall asleep cuddling to the end credits of each episode.

It was all fine until he found a Curious George playlist on YouTube with all 15 seasons, and being a nonsensically endearing child at heart, he’d made it his personal mission to cycle through all of them. Initially, it was nostalgic for you too, but after one too many times of seeing the stupid monkey and his yellow-adorned caretaker, you’d opt to crash in your banana-less bed after dinner instead.

Nights often end like this one, with you drifting into slumber and the glaring light of the TV screen peeking into your room underneath the door. Neither of you was that bothered by the change in routine anyway; you got more sleep and he got his screen time. Being roommates, understanding each other was key in your relationship, and although things were slightly different, the silent compromise was enough to keep the peace between you.

Or at least, it was enough until you hear three knocks on your bedroom door and a slight knob turn.

“Y/N? Are you awake?”

The whisper takes a while to register in your half-asleep state, and at the realization of his scared tone, you force yourself to shift into a sitting position before responding.

“Mingi? What’s wrong?”

He tiptoes into the room, turning on the light. The bright contrast from your previously dark room makes your eyes close instinctively, your pupils adjusting to Mingi’s blurry figure.

“Promise you won’t think I’m stupid?” he asks, an attentive gaze in his eyes.

The comment makes you laugh as you patted your bed, beckoning him onto the soft surface.

“You’ve been stupid to me, dumbass. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

He shuffles on the pillows, leaning in closer to whisper to you despite no one else being in the house.

“I think there are monsters in my room.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. You watched a Curious George episode about him seeing shadow monsters in his room, and now you think they’re in your room too?”

You can see the pout on his face intensify as he turns all the lights on while walking to his room. You knew the episode he was talking about, the one where the monkey started envisioning oddly shaped shadows as monsters only to later learn they were just figments of his imagination, but you didn’t think it would affect your roommate that badly.

“No! Don’t turn on the light,” he exclaims as you screw open his doorknob, despite the rest of the house being engulfed in light because of his phobia.

“Why not?” you question, watching the door creak open and stepping into the room, pulling him along with you so he won’t run away.

“Look,” he points at an oddly shaped lump, “you can’t tell me that isn’t some evil slug out to get me.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s just—”

“And over there,” he beckons to a tall, conical structure, “that is literally an evil Christmas tree. I’m 100% sure we’re about to die.”

You sigh as you flick on the lights, your suspicions being confirmed.

“Did you even think to turn on the light? These so-called ‘monsters’ are just your pile of dirty laundry that I’ve been begging you to wash and your coat rack that I still can’t comprehend being in this room and not the doorway.”

“You’re right but,” he moves to turn off the light again, “why do they look so different in the dark? They’re shapeshifting! I’m not insane Y/N, just trust me.”

At this point, you’re too mentally and physically exhausted to even care about his antics. In some other period of time, you would’ve indulged his nightmares, but right now it’s far past your bedtime and the only thing on your mind is a long, relaxing sleep.

“Fine. You can sleep in my room tonight. I don’t have stupid coat racks or dirty laundry in my room for you to be scared of, and we can turn on the little night light I still have from third grade. Got it?”

You pretend not to notice the silent cheer he lets out behind your back as you make the trek back to your part of the building, killing the lights as you go. Mingi keeps an arm on your shoulder, and you notice he keeps his gaze on the wall beside him to avoid any potential shapeshifters in the living room.

After a thorough inspection of your room, Mingi deduces that there are indeed no shadow monsters. By then you’re already half asleep, curling into the right side so his hunk of a body has room.

“You sure this is okay?” he questions, stretching his arms and yawning.

Your tired gaze glazes over the ripples of his lean muscles illuminated by your snowman night light before answering with a nod, and you grumble when he flops on the bed and steals too much of your blanket.

“C’mere,” he voices, making grabby hands, “I miss cuddling with you.”

You make the meanest face possible and flip over to the other side, turning away from his seemingly shocked face.

“Wake me up for cuddles when you stop acting like a baby and grow a pair.”

And as you drift into slumber, despite your warnings you still feel the soft weight of his arm curl around your torso, sending you into the sweetest dreams full of fantastical butterflies.

The next night, Mingi is knocking at your door again, albeit a couple of hours earlier than yesterday. He doesn’t even have to speak before you’re glaring at him, hands crossed in annoyance.

“I’m not letting you sleep here again. You stole too much of my blanket last time.”

You don’t mention to him that you had the best sleep of your life.

“That’s why I brought a blanket!” he exclaims, holding up his polka-dot fuzzy bedspread, “I also brought some popcorn so we can watch a movie on your shitty computer.”

Screw him for being thoughtful, and screw him for wearing the same brand of tank top that he did yesterday. Were his muscles always this prominent, or was it your nightlight making you see things?

“Shitty computer?” you repeat, threatening to close the door in his face.

“No! No… I think you misheard. I love your classic, old computer.”

His grin intensifies as you let him in, snapping the nightlight on and setting up the movie on your computer that is indeed shitty. The overheating of the device makes you turn away from his knowing smirk, and as the starting scenes flash across the blue light screen, you reach for the popcorn, only for him to move it out of your reach.

“Can we cuddle now at least? I meant it when I said I missed it.”

You don’t say anything in response, keeping your eyes trained on the screen, but your hand does reach over to grab a kernel, giving him the green light to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You know that if you refused, he would bring up the embarrassing fact of how you woke up curled into his arm, and you weren’t really in the mood to fight a blush on your cheeks.

“You know, I don’t understand why you’re still scared of the dark when Curious George clearly overcomes his fear at the end of the episode.”

“He does?”

You turn to look at him, confused.

“Did you not finish the episode?”

“I haven’t touched the show since the beginning of that episode. I’m scarred.”

You still believe that this is some sort of sick prank Mingi has been playing on you because there’s no way a 23-year-old man would be this frightened over a figment of his imagination. However, it means you don’t have to bear the stupid ape’s squeaky voice as you fall asleep, so you take the win.

“You know you can’t keep sleeping in my room like this. Why don’t you just clear your room so you won’t be afraid anymore?”

“I like the organized chaos.”

“Oh yeah? The organized chaos that shapeshifts into your worst nightmares?”

“So they do shapeshift! See Y/N, I’m not crazy.”

He is crazy, but the way his arm feels around your shoulder is enough to make you stay quiet as you shovel popcorn into your mouth and watch the movie blur before your eyes.

You awake to find yourself in the same position, and although your head is awkwardly and painfully resting in the crook of Mingi’s shoulder, you find that you once again have garnered a good night’s sleep.

Although you can only see the side of his face, his frame is so beautiful that you can’t help but melt into a puddle of nothingness. The sunlight peeking in from the gaps of your blinds illuminates his face in rays so perfectly, and you have the urge to brush his orange-stained hair behind his ears to gain a better view.

Mingi has always been breathtakingly beautiful. You met him a couple of years ago in college, bonding over the uncertainty of where your future would take you. Ending up together in this small yet comfortable apartment together was something you hadn’t expected, but something you’re learning not to take for granted. His silly quirks and endearing behavior are like a magnet, and it’s hard to not have feelings for someone whom you’re so domestic with every day, but you both are busy with your own lives and have never had time to properly explore those feelings.

Falling asleep in each other’s arms is the closest form of intimacy you’ve shared with him, and you’ve learned to cherish and be grateful for it.

Knowing that both of you are bound to end up with a crick in your necks if you stay in this position any longer, you slowly shake him awake, pushing away your thoughts as you feel him stir underneath your palm.

“Mingi, wake up. You’re going to kill me with your complaints if you wake up with sore limbs.”

“I like sleeping in your arms,” he grumbles, and it’s a little too obvious how your heart constrains at the words.

“I know, but I promise you’d feel much better if you slept properly on the bed. I’ll reward you with an amazing breakfast, I promise.”

The mention of food has him relaxing in your arms, and you move so that he’s sleeping normally against the pillow. The thoughts of waking up next to him and cooking breakfast for him are all very normal, but they’re so domestic that it has your early-morning mind go haywire at the implications.

You tell your brain to shut up and get off the bed to make breakfast before Mingi cusses you out.

Mingi appears in your bed the next day, the day after that, and many more days after that. At this point, your room has now become a shared room, and Mingi has become a prominent figure in your sheets. Hell, your pillows have even started to smell like him, and you don’t know whether you find it annoying or endearing.

A smaller part of your brain, one that you choose to push aside, fears that you’ve grown too attached to this routine. Sure, before Mingi’s monkey infatuation you’ve woken up next to each other on an occasional morning, arms sore from accommodating each other on the sofa, but you’ve never continuously spent nights with him in the same space regularly like this. Now that the routine has become more frequent, the atmosphere has gone from friendly to something else, and you don’t particularly know if you want to uncover it yet.

Besides, sleeping in the same bed is normal for roommates… right?

“Y/N, sleeping in the same bed with an attractive bachelor that just so happens to be your roommate is definitely not normal.”

Okay, so San agrees to disagree.

“I’m being serious,” he says, shaking you by the shoulder, “you’re going to end up catching feelings, and it’ll either end up with you heartbroken and apartment-less or you getting a new boyfriend. There is a fifty-fifty chance. Don’t risk it.”

You turn to look at Mingi across the room, dressed up in a silk shirt and slacks. His hair is styled in that annoying not-so-styled-but-still-styled manner, and it makes you want to run your fingers through it. Badly. Seeing him sleeveless in the mornings is bad enough, but seeing him cleaned up at a mutual friend’s birthday party makes you want to go feral.

“You should’ve given me that warning before he started sleeping next to me,” you mumble under your breath, but unfortunately San is perceptive, and nothing escapes his ears.

“Great. I can’t believe you already have feelings for him. You’re done for at this point. What is he even so scared of anyway that has him crying in your arms every night?”

You explain the details with a frown on your face, not wanting to mull over any possible rejection you might get from Mingi.

“Oh,” San starts.

“Oh?”

“That changes everything.”

You stare at San with a perplexed gaze, prompting him to elaborate.

“Look, Mingi is stupid, but do you really think he’s that stupid? Come on Y/N, even if he was scared of the dark, he would’ve gotten over it in three days.”

You hit him on the shoulder, causing him to yelp.

“Don’t play with me San,” you berate, watching him clutch the area you just hit, “why else would he be sleeping in my room if he wasn’t scared?”

“The same reason you started having feelings for him! Because you both enjoy waking up next to each other and being together. He likes you Y/N.”

The words drift around in your brain, and you process them for a couple of seconds before glaring at San.

“If he liked me, he would’ve told me.”

“That’s what you think. But do you really know him that well if you couldn’t even figure out the reason he’s been sleeping next to you? What if he’s just scared to tell you?”

San has a point, but you don’t want to admit it. As you watch Mingi beckon you over to try some food on the counter and likely force you to shovel down a disgusting combination of food, you and San share a mutual glance to stop talking about the topic.

However, as you walk over, you can’t help your brain from overanalyzing everything that shouldn’t be. The way he smiles too brightly at you, the way he holds your arm gently as he tugs you over, and the way he keeps you hydrated throughout the night make your head spin. Everything normal suddenly seemed different, and you didn’t know if the change was welcome or not.

Later that night, when you and Mingi return exhausted to your apartment, your brain feels more tired than ever. You’ve never been much of a thinker, but currently, your head feels worse than a hangover, and you don’t want to mull over anything drastic. Keeping your distance from the guy who supposedly has feelings for you back is harder than it seems, but you’re not in the mood to confront him right now.

However, Mingi has other plans. He sits you by the bed, helping you take off your jacket and accessories and untying your shoes. You realize that he’s picked up on your exhaustion, and you feel extremely guilty for wanting to push him away mere seconds ago. He is so charming at this very moment, and you feel nothing but enamored for the love you’ve received from him tonight and all the time you’ve spent together.

The words are flowing out of your mouth before you can even stop yourself.

“Do you like me?”

He stops mid-shoelace, looking up at you. You realize how awkward and uncomfortable of a position this is for him, but it’s too late to turn back now.

“Did it take you this long to notice?”

You feel like you’re being shoved underwater. The world hazes before your eyes, and the words are muffled as they enter your ears.

“What?”

He laughs, and the loss of your senses makes you realize how beautiful of a sound it really is.

“You’ve always called me stupid, but I think you’re the one that’s actually stupid here. I’ve liked you for a while now, silly. Why do you think I help you make dinner when I hate cooking?”

‘Oh’ is the only word floating in your head right now.

“So, the Curious George thing was fake?”

“Kind of. I was a little scared the first night, not going to lie, but after finding out how much I missed sleeping next to you, I figured I’d use it to my advantage. I’m honestly surprised you didn’t figure out or kick me out sooner.”

He sees you bury your head in your hands, too shocked to internalize anything right now.

“Hey,” he says, holding your shoulder, “you don’t need to say anything right now. I know it’s probably a lot to take in, and I know you’re probably exhausted after that party. Just sleep on it, okay? We can talk later.”

He finishes untying your laces and gets up to leave, but you pull on his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

“Don’t go,” you whisper, “I like it when you’re here.”

He smiles so gently, so so gently that you want to stare at him forever.

“Alright, I’ll stay,” he whispers back, despite no one else being in the house, “do you want me to continue sleeping next to you?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out after a pause.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

[ciaossu-imagines]

I hope you’re having a good day💖💖 For the writer ask game

1: What is the best compliment you've gotten on any of your works?

9: What genre is your favourite to write?

23: Is there a project you want to talk about?

- R

Thanks so much for sending something in! It really feels nice – to be honest, I’ve been having an absolutely horrible couple days, with some IRL drama (got into a nasty fight with a friend), feeling burnt out but unable to ask for help or to take a break in all spheres of my life, irl and online, feeling a bit taken for granted overall, and it kind of culminated this morning with some nasty hate in my inbox lately that I had to delete, and finding out that my follower account has dropped from 1420 to 1352…the biggest mass exodus of followers this blog has ever had, I’m honestly doing absolutely shitty and had to have a good cry this morning. I’m trying to remain grateful, focus on the positives in my life, reread all the compliments I’ve gotten both on here and through texts from other friends, all love I’ve ever gotten online and IRL, and continue to write my Christmas queue, my Secret Santa gift fic, and my Christmas gifts for friends though, trying really hard, and since these asks all require me to focus on those things, I’m going to answer these and make myself get into that mindset 😊 Thanks so much for the ask again, my lovely, and the wonderful questions.

What is the best compliment you’ve gotten on any of your works?

Each and every compliment I get on my work and my writing, honestly. I cannot say how much every compliment I get on my writing means to me. Even something as simple as ‘I really liked this’ makes my heart sing, as I pour a lot of time and effort into things with the main focus of my writing always being on trying to make others happy, to be able to make someone’s day a little happier. I’ve received some amazing compliments saying that people think I’m a kind person lately and those really touched me. Someone said that my writing made them read things outside of their fandom recently and that one really did make me tear up with happiness. There’s also an old review on one of my really old works that I’ve saved and often go back to look at where they were very upset, almost to the point of getting rude, because the work in question had wrapped up and the story was now complete. To have someone get so emotional because the fic in question was now finished and they were so upset that they wouldn’t be getting to read anything more for it really made me feel very…proud in a way, just knowing that someone was so into what I was writing that the idea of not getting to read it impacted them.

What genre is your favourite to write?

I love writing isekai, reader inserts, slice of life, comedy-action, fantasy/paranormal, and urban fantasy. I’m also a big fan of school-based things, both reading and writing them, just because it’s a setting that lends itself to a lot of different genres and story plots.

Is there a project you want to talk about?

I’ve mentioned before that I’m huge into ttrpg’s. They’re a whole lot of fun and while I can get some of my IRL to play really short little sessions with me, it’s rare and far between. I’ve been playing around with a one-page RPG that I found and have managed to make a full blown, but on the shorter side, campaign out of it and I’m really hoping, maybe around February or March, giving them enough time to make their characters, that I might have found some online friends or readers who’d be interested in getting together through Discord voice call once every week or two and running through the campaign.

[watmalik]

Hi! I am your secret Santa. I have a couple questions if that is okay?

1. For the Friends AU, is it okay to have a more 126-like setting but more Friends-like dynamics? Or would you rather it be a more distinctive AU, where the characters are in NYC and have different professions?

2. Would you prefer an AU to incorporate canon events into an AU-appropriate setting (think Knave-verse) or have the AU be its own flavor?

3. Is there anything else you have thought or are thinking about your requests since you submitted?

Thanks so much for your help!

Hey!! Yes, ask away!

1. I might sound annoying, but surprise me 😂 I don’t really mind the place per say (canon setting or not//NYC or Austin? You pick), or what their professions are (they can be firefighters/cop still, or have the friend’s cast professions…whatever fits your narrative better tbh, I’m not picky).

But!!! I do want the apartment dynamic… like the 126 living in the same apartment complex/them as neighbours similar to Friends.

For example: Mateo and Paul living together (like joey and chan), Nancy and TK living together (like mon and Rachel)…. And let’s say Carlos being like Ross and phoebe being like Marjan, both having their own place elsewhere but spending majority of their time at Nancy’s and TK’s bc that’s where they all usually hang like in Friends. Something like that.

2. I would prefer for you to incorporate lone star canon events into this friends AU (not everything ofc! But whatever fits best in the way you portray things). I say this bc I feel as though some events are the essence of the 126 crew. For instance, TK’s sobriety is a big part of him and without it, I feel like it takes away from his demeanour/character all together. Moreover, I wouldn’t mind a mixture/double crossing between friends and 126 members’ personalities. For example: having a merge of TK’s “picking up strays” persona with Rachel’s “naiveness” and crazy antics.

One more thing I wanted to say regarding this, is that you can take the liberty on whether you want to add relationships or take relationships away, except for tarlos. Like for instance, even though mateo and Nancy are together in canon I wouldn’t mind if you pair them with other people, like doing a Nancy/marjan or Nancy/Paul instead, or add new characters into the mixture, etc.

3. Not really, I don’t have anything extra to add (apart from what I just answered)

(Ps: When I put “for example” its just a suggestion, you can choose whatever feels right for you to write or whatever fits. I just wanted to add examples for a better picture. I know I just mentioned the usual 126 hang people but you can also add grace/judd if you’d like…again you can take liberty on this)

Also, I’m SOO GLAD you chose this prompt. I submitted it way before what happened recently, and honestly you choosing it has made my day, so thank you!

You’re more that welcome to keep reaching out/or if I didn’t make sense I can explain this better lol

[sunshinebingo]

Hiya!! Secret Santa here!! 🩷🩷

So, I’ve been doing some thinking and I was curious about what your thoughts are for fic settings! I’ll try and narrow this down since that’s a pretty broad question, so:

1) Do you have a preference for if Gwynlain are the only characters in the fic, or would you like to see others featured too? (I.e. Gwyn and Elain attending a ball and briefly mixing with other characters? Possibly having tension or subtle arguments with others?)

2) Do you have particular environmental settings you enjoy? (I.e. Velaris, Spring Court, up in Illyria, a holiday trip to another court, mysterious but friendly woodland in unnamed territory?) Or are you unbothered by where they’re placed in the story? Is there anywhere you don’t want them to be or are you happy leaving it up to chance?

That’s all for now!! I’m still in the ‘figuring out an idea’ place so nothing’s set in stone!! Most of this is still very much getting a feel for whether there’s stuff you’re absolutely opposed to that I should avoid, and if there’s maybe some stuff you’re happier with!

- Secret Santa 🎅🩷

(p.s. obviously, it’s also totally fine if you don’t have a preference! Please don’t feel forced to give an answer if you don’t really mind! :) 🩷)

Hi santa!! 🙋‍♀️ Sorry my response took some time.

1) i don't mind at all if there are other characters in their story. In fact I do love the different interactions and relationships that happen outside of the main pair of a fic. Whether it's their family/friends/whatever else, and whether it's for added fun/tension/etc... I think it just enriches the story. But of course it depends on your context and the plot if there's one and it will still be great if it's just them

2) For this one I'll trust you and let you surprise me 😉 As a writer myself, I know that sometimes the setting is a character in itself and is important in whatever way to the story, while other times its just a random pick because 'it works well for this so why not'. Both of these are equally great to me. I'll let you decide and have your fun with it 😉

I'll add a 3) because right after I sent the last ask you sent, I thought about some stuff that I could have mentioned in my response but didn't 😅 I hope you don't mind me bringing this up again...

So I think Gwyn (in canon context at least) at first dresses quite modestly. With long sleeves and bottoms that goes down to her ankles. She favours comfort but is still stylish with clothes that aren't her typical robes. Then, as her confidence grows, she becomes more daring. Especially when she notices the changes in her body. She will slowly acknowledge the things that her body is capable of - she is strong enough to fight and protect, eventually her body can also be a tool to seduce the person she is romantically/sexually involved with.

That's when she starts to show off her legs or dares an off-shoulder, before trying to wear a bit of cleavage. I think her fashion grows with her self esteem. It's going to be a learning experience that will take baby steps. But still a process that she can enjoy.

It reminds me of that woman thing where you feel a little better about yourself when you're wearing pretty lingerie even though absolutely no one will see it. Is that just me? I know it's not just me 😂

This can also apply to Elain with colours. I imagine that the more comfortable she gets in her Fae body and self, the more "colourful" she becomes in many ways. She talks more, laughs more, dares more...

I think I've talked enough for now 😂 I really enjoy your questions Santa so thank you!!

[amateurd18]

Hii Ami!! Secret Santa here!! Happy Louis Tomlinson day!! 🥳✨🥳✨ I can’t even believe he’s 31 like- time is truly an illusion because he doesn’t look a day over 25!!

Also, I apologize for my minor disappearance. It truly got tougher and tougher to properly sit and write this ask!! 😅 but I’m here to stick it till the end, I can promise you that!! How have you been, love?

Congratulations on the end of this semester!! If no one has told you yet, I’m super proud of you and what you have accomplished so far!! You are so close to the end!! Rooting for you from the states lol. Take the time to properly sit down and relax✨

A good chocolate milkshake on a warm day does sound lovely!! I can sense the chocolate pattern indeed lol. Another mango lover? Love that for us!! That is the correct answer!! Even as someone who doesn’t have much info. on the wizard world, I can agree that the setting would be a cool place to see (from the sidelines of all the things that go on, of course lol). Living the true bookstore!au of your dreams!!? Love that!! Sounds so cozy!!

Some minor speed round questions!! Do you have any traditions on Christmas Eve? Is there anything special you’re doing this year for Christmas Day? For me, I’m gonna be jumping around from one relative’s house to another cause everywhere I go, there’s gonna be food!! And, y’know, can’t say no to food when offered lol. I got this ask from my secret santa and thought I’d ask as well: do you dilly-dally? In other words, are you someone who roams in a store and takes their time or someone who goes in to get their specific list of items and is out? I can wholeheartedly say that I’m a dilly-dally kind of person!! I have to got down almost all the isles to find things that I would like, both when I’m grocery shopping and clothing shopping; hell, even just window shopping when I’m not buying anything!! Lol.

Nonetheless, I hope you have a wonderful Christmas Eve filled with love from family and friends!! I have truly enjoyed my time writing to you!! You’re such a kind individual!! Until the next one 💕.

🎄✨

Hii! Omg yes, i completely agree with you and I'm so jealous of him never aging. Like. What. He's so beautiful, so not fair.

Thanks for the support, means the world ❤️

We don't really celebrate Christmas, so no major traditions. The only thing we tend to do is eat plum cake which also has rum. Not sure if anyone else in the world eats it, but we do it in India. Oh and i went over to a friend's house for Christmas Eve dinner last evening, and we stuffed our faces with good food and wine.

That's such an interesting question. If I'm buying things like clothing / groceries for myself, I'm pretty much an in and out person. Unless I'm travelling or really have the patience to go window shopping. For other things, i do enjoy a good lazy stroll about the shops haha. I guess it kinda depends on my mood and what i need and things. Beware letting me lose in a stationery/ crafts store though. You will never see me again 😂

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Being a vampire and discovering Nandor is your ancestor would involve... (Part 3)

This part includes the character of David from The Lost Boys (1987), but it’s not necessary to have watched the movie; you can simply consider it a placeholder name for (name)’s boyfriend.

*****

🦇 It’s been five years since you and Nandor discovered you are related; you love each other like a father and a child, you trust each other completely and have a lot of fun together.

🦇 Meanwhile, you’ve made friends with some other vampires in town, closer to your own age, which Nandor approves; the moment you, almost too casually, mention a new friend named David, though… something feels off, like you’re not telling him everything or are afraid of his reaction. He asks you about David, how you met him and what kind of person he is, but your answers are vague; Nandor then asks to meet your new friend, and you promise you’ll introduce him, but you never do.

🦇 Something’s off, he’s sure of it; Guillermo points out that he doesn’t have the right to stick his nose into your business, not least because you wouldn’t like it, and Nandor, who doesn’t want to make you angry, promises to keep his questions to himself. He’s still suspicious, though; what if this David is a bad lot, who could end up hurting you in some way?

🦇 Then, one night, the gang gets ready to go to an acquaintance’s 500th birthday party. You’re also invited, but you decide to stay home watching TV, even though Nandor tells you they’ll probably stay out until dawn; he doesn’t need to worry, you’ll be fine alone for one night!

🦇 Something happens, and the gang gets home much sooner than expected. Nandor opens the door of the living room calling for you… and finds you lying on the sofa, entwined to the body of a young blonde vampire with a mullet, kissing like only people who don’t need to breathe can, both of your shirts lying on the floor.

🦇 For a moment you’re both so surprised you don’t know how to react. Then… “(Name)!” he roars; “Nandor!” you shriek, and then together: “What the fuck are you doing/doing here already?”

🦇 Five seconds and the room explodes into chaos. Nadja, Laszlo and Guillermo are barely able to hold Nandor, who is trying to pounce on David (he doesn’t need to ask his name; now everything is clear!) to kill him with his bare hands; you beg/order him to stop, because your boyfriend did nothing you didn’t enthusiastically consent to; David, being David, adds fuel to the fire telling him he’s not afraid to fight an old man and you two have kept your relationship secret too long already.

🦇 Nandor freezes. “Boyfriend? Relationship?” he asks in disbelief. “That’s right”, you answer once you and David have both put your clothes back on, you’ve walked him to the door begging him to stop antagonizing your ancestor and you’ve gone back to Nandor, sitting next to him “David he’s my boyfriend, he’s been for three months already. I wanted to show him where I lived… and I wanted us to have some privacy”.

🦇 To say Nandor is shocked would be an understatement. He knows you’re a great person, beautiful, cool, so he should have known people would be attracted to you, and it’s also normal for you to desire a relationship… but. But.

🦇 Imagine a stereotypical protective parent; multiply by a hundred, and you have Nandor. “Who the fuck is this guy? Where does he live? How did you met him?” he asks menacingly, and you, not intimidated in the slightest, tell him the truth. David had lived in a small town in California called Santa Carla; like you, he is the only survivor of the massacre of his clan, and he arrived in Staten Island after wandering for a while, looking for a new home. You met in a local club frequented by vampires, you struck up a conversation… and the rest is history.

🦇 You take Nandor’s hand in yours, feeling sorry for him; you haven’t had a father figure for a long time and you’re old enough not to need one, but it’s not hard to understand what he’s thinking right now, and you’re grateful, but… “Listen, I’m sorry I lied about tonight; I should have told you all about him a long time ago, introduced you… but I knew you wouldn’t approve in any case”.

🦇 “Hey, that’s not fair…” “Well, do you?” “Of course not!” “You see my point? Nandor, please; I like David very much, more than anyone I met in a hundred years; he treats me very well. I think that if you met him, you would like him too; can you try, please? For me?”

🦇 He wouldn’t be able to say no to your pleading eyes even if his life were at stake; therefore, he promises not to stand in the way between you and David, and while the grateful hug you give him is very nice, he already knows he won’t be able to keep his word.

🦇 The truth is, he can’t stand David. He doesn’t like his clothes, that ridiculous mullet, the stench of the cigarettes he smokes every time he comes pick you up for a date, and his motorbike. He has a motorbike, for crying out loud! Why can’t he simply fly to places, like any normal vampire? What if he has an accident while you’re riding with him?

🦇 “But (name) is a vampire, master, I doubt a motorbike accident could seriously injure them…” “Shut up, Guillermo!”

🦇 But if he must be honest with himself, the real problem is you having a relationship, not your choice of partner. When it comes to love and relationships, Nandor is the unluckiest person in the world, and he’s terrified that it could be hereditary, or in any case, that David could hurt you in some way; you’re a smart, confident person who does not accept to be bullied by anyone, but what if he cheats on you, breaking your heart? What if he hits you, promises not to do again, is forgiven, and then does it again? What if he takes you away from him?

🦇 This is the thing that scares him the most. Your relationship with him and with David are very different, of course, but isn’t it normal for a young person to focus on romantic relationships, excluding the rest? How many vampires have an ancestor as a confidant, instead of a boyfriend? You have many friends already and he has never felt neglected, but this time is different, he feels it.

🦇 He doesn’t even want to think about you and David being intimate. He knows it has probably already happened, given the state you were on the sofa when he caught you and the fact you’ve been dating for months, but… no. He feels the urge to punch a wall (he does; twice). How dare that rascal touch something as pure and amazing as you? Does he even realize how lucky he is just to receive your smile? Does he thank his lucky star every day that you chose him as a partner?    

🦇 Something Nandor hates is that his friends, who are also yours, not only don’t share his concerns, but they love David, and they approve of the two of you together. Nadja and Laszlo greet him like an old friend every time he comes pick you up, lend you their clothes for date nights, and even attempt to impart onto you their wisdom as experts on love and relationships. Even Guillermo starts to appreciate your boyfriend, knowing that he makes you happy and especially after David, who in turn has taken a liking to the familiar, takes him for a ride on his bike.

🦇 They, of course, don’t understand; no one does, except Nandor. You’re clearly happy with your boyfriend, you talk well of him, he gives you presents and organizes amazing dates for the both of you; but still, sooner or later he’s going to hurt you, make you cry or, worse, get you in trouble! You have already escaped vampire hunters once, and David is even worse at hiding his vampiric nature in public than the Baron was! Sooner or later he’s gonna get you killed!

🦇 Which means, of course, that he has to break his promise of not interfering with your relationship, to protect you. He doesn’t even try to forbid you from seeing David, since he couldn’t and he knows it; instead, he begins following you, hiding in the places you’re having your dates at, checking that your boyfriend is not doing anything to make you uncomfortable, ready to intervene if he does. He must admit that he treats you very well, and that you look happier and more at ease than he’s ever seen you, and this fills him with envy; he knows it makes no sense to be jealous of your boyfriend, but he can’t help it.

🦇 Nandor is not the best at passing unnoticed, and in the end, it happens; you and David are making-out sitting on a bench in a park at midnight, when a branch on a tree next to you breaks, and Nandor falls down with a scream.

🦇 You’re angry. You’re embarrassed. But most of all, you’re hurt. He had promised! You thought he respected you and your need for some privacy, can’t he see how inappropriate it is to be seen by a father-figure in a moment like that?!

🦇 Nandor hasn’t realized, but it hasn’t been easy for you recently. You love him, and you love David (you really do, and you had been planning to tell him tonight, hadn’t the two of you been interrupted) and it’s terrible to see them at odds with each other, your ancestor who doesn’t even try to hide his contempt for your boyfriend, and David who complains that Nandor hates him without reason and teases him every chance he gets. You feel conflicted, always having to justify one with the other, and you can’t stand anymore.

🦇 You and Nandor end up having a shouting match in the middle of the street; he tries to explain he’s acted in your best interest and just doesn’t want to see you get hurt, but you won’t hear it; his behavior proves that he considers you too young/naive/stupid to take care of yourself, and that he has seen fit to break his promise to you to do as he wanted. You can’t forgive him for this; in that moment, you’re pretty sure you’ll never be able to.

🦇 “I left home as a human to be able to live my life, so that no one could control me anymore; and now you do the same!” you scream at him. In the end you and David leave together, and the next night Guillermo packs you a suitcase and brings it to you, which means that you don’t plan on returning home soon.

🦇 Knowing that you’re now living with your boyfriend should send Nandor into a rage; it doesn’t. He has screwed up big time and he knows it; and now he has lost your respect, your trust, and you, maybe forever.  How could he be so stupid, and so insensitive? He feared David would hurt you, and in the end he’s the one who did it!

🦇 Weeks pass, and Nandor is broken-hearted. He almost stop feeding himself, and he spends whole nights by himself, looking outside the window or wandering around aimlessly; his friends are worried for him, but they don’t know how to help. He has no idea where you live now; he could try and find it, but he doesn’t, having finally understood that you deserve your space and the freedom to make your own choices, even the wrong ones. He hopes you’re well, safe, and happy; but he knows he doesn’t deserve to wish for your return.

🦇 And then one night, out of the blue, David arrives. “Have you come to gloat?” Nandor asks tiredly, bu David is dead serious, so serious Nandor worries something terrible has happened to you.

🦇 “(Name) is fine, don’t worry; but they miss you. They are a wreck, they don’t smile, they don’t talk, they do nothing all night, they even lost their appetite! Listen, I know you don’t like me, and I don’t exactly love you either, since you made (name) cry, but something we have in common is that we both care for them, right? You need to come to out place, and say you’re sorry; that’s all it’ll take. Come on, don’t you want to make up for this mess?”

🦇 Nandor has known David for months, but suddenly it’s like he’s looking at the young vampire for the first time… and what he sees it’s not much different from what he saw the first time he met you: a young vampire without a home, who lost his family because of the hunters, and who needed a new place to stay, companionship, and someone who cared for them. No wonder the two of you connected! He does have ridiculous hair and those stinking cigarettes, but can Nandor really hate him?  

🦇 In the end, Nandor follows David to a flat out of town, that your boyfriend has claimed for himself after he killed and fed on the owner; he decorated it a lot like the old cave he lived in with his friends in Santa Carla, but Nandor ha no interest for interior design.

🦇 You’re curled up on a sofa, looking more small, fragile and malnourished than the day you met him; seeing him step in you gasp, and Nandor, choked with emotion, can barely utter “(Name), I’m so sorry”, and that’s enough; you jump into his arms, hugging him tight, and there’s no need for words, you each understand what the other is feeling; forgiveness is asked and granted, and peace returns between you and your ancestor.

🦇 From that moment on, everything goes smoothly… almost. You and David get along great, you and Nandor are closer than ever, and your ancestor has learned to get along with your boyfriend; sometimes you catch them sharing a look… you wouldn’t know how to describe it. Not friendly (even though their relationship is slowly becoming less frosty; thankfully you’re all immortal, and you hope than in a century or five they’ll actually become friends!) but more like two people who have reached an understanding; they both love you and want to see you happy, and on that agreement they’re able to build a civil relationship. David comes to respect Nandor’s strength as an older vampire, while your ancestor is reluctantly forced to admire your boyfriend’s energy and disregard for safety and anonymity.

🦇 You spend some time with both of them equally, and David becomes sort of an “associate member” of the family, living on his own but dropping by whenever he pleases. He even convinces Nandor to come on a ride with him! “So, how was it, old man?” “Pleasant enough, I must admit. Say, would you like to learn to ride a horse?”

🦇 In the end, the people you love learn to get along and everything is perfect.

Thanks for reading! This is part three of three.

[calaofnoldor]

What’s Mine

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 7,595

Summary: The secret you and Sam are hiding from Dean is threatened by your inability to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings: 18+ no actual smut but plenty of implied smut, pre-smut, and smut adjacency lol, secret dating, enemies to lovers, jealousy and possessiveness (exhibited by both sam and reader), slight obsession with sam’s big ass hands (i blame this largely on @walkerboy290​‘s glorious hand porn gif sets), and language

A/N: inspired by and written for @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ bc she’s been bugging me to write smut and using her birthday as a bargaining chip, so i hope you’re happy sai. happy (belated) birthday babe! i suppose in my subconscious need to truly honor you, this became the longest one shot i’ve ever written... that and this is now also a little birthday gesture for the brilliant and beautiful @sams-sass​​ (damn your close birthdays!) even though she never asked for smut (if you hate it, i’ll write you something else!) happy birthday to you too, darling!

also written for @superbadassnatural​‘s 333 badass followers celebration with the prompt “___ and I are together.” “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa.” and @writethelifeyouwant​‘s 300 follower fic challenge with the prompt “All the pretty girls like Samuel” (both prompts are bolded in the fic) i’m sorry i’m so late! congratulations to both of you and thanks for letting me enter your challenges!

[basically i have a lot of people to blame for this disaster 😂]

Square Filled: Secret Dating for @spnfluffbingo​ and Enemies to Lovers for @girl-next-door-writes​ Make Me Feel Bingo

MASTERLIST

The waffles on your plate are surprisingly good for a sketchy, 50’s-themed diner, but unfortunately your attention is elsewhere. In fact, the two distinctly masculine voices behind you have been obnoxiously impairing your ability to savor the buttery, syrup-doused carbs since their owners sat down in the adjoining booth. It’s the topic of their discussion that disturbs you, and nips at your conscience until you realize you can no longer take off without imparting a few words to your oblivious colleagues.

Turning your head subtly to the side, you try to catch a glimpse of the men you’re about to confront in your peripheral vision. From what you can see, they’re both rather burly, a little rough around the edges, and from what you’ve heard, recklessly cocksure. You know the type all too well. Being a lone hunter of the fairer sex for most of your life means you’ve long since learned that the best way to combat their kind is with a steadfast façade of thick skin and unwavering confidence.

So you sigh and put on your best smile before turning around, crossing your forearms along the top of the booth seat, “Listen fellas, I hate to interrupt, but I really wouldn’t bother with the bamboo dagger and Shinto priest if I were you.”

“And who the hell are you?” the one with shorter hair demands. He’s a bit stockier than his companion and has a face that looks like it was designed by Abercrombie and Fitch - well that explains the arrogance.

“I’m the person who’s about to save your asses evidently,” you respond with a smug grin, trying not to let their absurdly good looks deter your act.

Abercrombie’s partner, the Fabio wannabe, releases a quiet scoff, “And how are you gonna do that?” he questions dubiously.

“By letting you in on a little secret…” Throwing him a tight smile, you lean forward and lower your voice, “That ōkami you’re after? It’s not an ōkami, it’s a ghoul.” Sitting back, you await the outrage.

“What?! But that’s not possible, I checked the lore. And it’s obviously got a type.” Fabio’s glossy chestnut locks fall across his delicate features as he shakes his head in disbelief, and you almost snort out loud. How did this amateur expect to hunt with hair like that?

You look him over, taking in the broad shoulders and muscled arms, as well as the obvious height advantage he’s got over Abercrombie even whilst they’re both seated. To be honest, you’re surprised he’s referencing lore at all. Guys his size always assume they can either outman or outgun whatever obstacles cross their path, and they almost never take women like you seriously, despite your ample years of acquired knowledge and invaluable experience. It’s this experience that surmises a bit of antagonism here is inevitable, so you might as well get a head start.

“Yeah well maybe you should check again, big guy,” you glance down at his hands, your first mistake as their sheer size render you speechless and subsequently agitated at yourself for the momentary lapse of visceral lust, but the show must go on, “Make sure those giant, lumbering hands of yours don’t fumble over anything important or you might miss the connection to Isabelle Harding. You see it’s not ‘a type’; it’s revenge.”

“Wh- Bu- I looked through the files. I wouldn’t have missed that,” Fabio insists.

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you type ‘Isabelle Harding’ and ‘1987 school bombing’ into your search bar and see what comes up?” you gesture towards the laptop on their table with a raised brow. Minutes later, both men are dumbfounded by the revelation on the screen, staring between it and you with their mouths agape.  

You chuckle silently at their faces, “Don’t worry, there’s no need to thank me. Although you rookies might wanna go home and let the more experienced hunter finish up here.” As you’re about to bid them farewell, you dip back in to add, “Oh and a word of free advice, maybe don’t discuss supernatural monsters quite so loudly in public spaces next time. It might invite unwanted attention.”

With that, you turn around and slap some cash down next to your unfinished waffles, before grabbing your jacket and strutting out the door.

Sam is left in utter confusion. The sudden animosity you had spouted his way seems completely baseless and unwarranted. Had he somehow offended you? Sam generally considers himself a highly respectful and fairly easy-going guy, not quite as hot-blooded as his brother, and thus not as likely to provoke such antipathy from a complete stranger. To make matters worse, he certainly can’t deny that something about you had registered within his subconscious as inexplicably attractive, despite the way you’d embarrassed him. In his flustered and slightly aroused state, it had been all he could do to remain awestruck in his seat and stare blatantly at your ass as you walked away.

The next time Sam sees you is only twelve hours later and no less humiliating. You’re mid-swing in the killing blow against what you had accurately predicted to be a ghoul as he and Dean tumble in. Despite the low lighting, Sam is once again stupefied by your raging beauty, augmented by the incredible skill you’re displaying in a much more physical sense this time around. Before he can drag his eyes away, there’s a collective shout of “watch out!” and suddenly you’re right in front of him. In a blur of events, you somehow manage to push Sam out of the way and successfully decapitate the unexpected second ghoul that had been sneaking up behind him, with only a slice across the arm to show for it.

“Didn’t I tell you two to go home?” You’re panting from the exertion and Sam’s gaze lands on the neckline of your shirt, skewed from the fight and revealing a good amount of cleavage. He quickly averts his eyes. What is happening? Sam can’t remember the last time anyone had evoked such a staggering reaction from him. He feels as if he’s a mere spectator in his own body.

Across from him, you press your hand against the wound and curse when it comes back covered in blood. At your groan of pain, Sam finally finds his voice again, “Shit. I’m so sorry! I don’t know how I missed that other one. I- that normally doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s what you say to all the girls, huh?” you reply offhand, still a bit out of breath.

It’s easy for Sam to dismiss your mocking given that he feels terribly guilty for being the cause of your injury. From where he’s standing, the cut looks deep. “Here, at least let me stitch it up for you. It’s too awkward a position for you to do it yourself,” he offers, holding out his ginormous hands to you like he’s waving a white flag.

“I think you’ve done enough damage for one day, haven’t you, big guy? At this point, I’d rather Abercrombie over there be the one behind the needle.”

“Who- what?” are the first words Dean speaks since the action has died down.

You turn to face the shorter guy, “Oh don’t look so surprised. You might as well be the model for a slightly older Ken doll. Are you up for it or not?”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as he tries to determine whether he should feel flattered or insulted.

“Uh- actually, I’m better at stitches than my brother,” Sam butts in.

“With those jumbo, fumbling hands? Yeah, sure you are, big guy,” you decline skeptically.

“It’s Sam,” he states through a clenched jaw.

“OK, Sam. Since I just saved your life, you mind making yourself useful and burning those bodies while your bro puts my arm back together? You know, as a ‘thank you’ perhaps?”

Sam is stunned for the third time that day. No one has ever belittled him (whilst gratuitously attacking his size) insofar without any apparent reason. It seems as though his very existence upsets you and the arbitrariness of your contempt has caused an anger to stir beneath him, but beyond that lies bewilderment and irritation. How had he managed to accomplish two such massive mistakes in front of you in the span of so short a time? Perturbed and bitter, Sam silently sets to work on the bodies.

Meanwhile, you’ve come to a surprising realization as Dean begins to cut the fabric of your flannel away from your damaged arm, the name ‘Sam’ and the words ‘my brother’ resounding in your head, “Wait a second- there’s no way… you’re not… the Winchesters, are you? Sam and… Dean?”

“The one and only, sweetheart.” He sends you a dazzling smile that is as perfect as you’d expect, but within his eyes is an underlying poignancy that you recognize as clear as day: an indication of a traumatic past and a lifetime spent plastering on tough veneers. You notice as well how gentle his touch is and how his stitches are practiced and prudent. Perhaps you had judged him too hastily.

Through an incredulous chuckle, you retort, “Well I can’t say I didn’t expect more from you, but at least this’ll get me a free round of drinks at the hunters’ pub tonight.”

Dean laughs with you before sobering at the thought of how his baby brother must be feeling, “Hey listen, take it easy on Sammy, alright? I don’t know what’s gotten into him today but he’s not usually like this. He’s actually the smart one, believe it or not.”

Scoffing, you can’t help but smile back at Dean and soon find an easy rhythm with the older Winchester, despite your awkward introduction.

From several yards away, however, Sam looks wistfully back to see you smiling lightheartedly at something Dean’s said, the two of you huddled in close proximity as his brother’s hands drift across your bare skin. Something akin to envy bubbles within his chest although he’s aware it makes no sense, so with a frown, Sam does his best to shake it off and get back to work.

But it’s not easy to forget you. And just as Sam is beginning to think he’s rid that awful day from his memory, you pop back into his life three months down the line.

“Well, if it isn’t the overgrown hunter extraordinaire Sammy Winchester.” The sarcasm that oozes from your otherwise beguiling voice has him gritting his teeth in no time.

“It’s Sam.”

“So you here to mess up my hunt again, Sam?”

Although he wishes he could have been the bigger man instead of surrendering to the resentment you roused within him, after a couple repeated hatchet burying attempts fall through, Sam just can’t resist the little game you’ve started.

Over the next few months, you and Dean form a fortuitously close bond and the older Winchester develops a habit of calling you up when faced with a troublesome hunt, and vice versa. Despite Sam’s fabricated displeasure, a show he puts on mostly for Dean (since any other emotion would seem illogical given the way you treat him), Sam is peculiarly and begrudgingly excited to see you every time. But the match never ends. In fact, Sam lets it intensify each time you work together, always astounded by how you manage to get him so worked up.

“I’m telling you, it’s a rugaru!”

“Right, because the last time we listened to you, things worked out so well,” you remark sardonically.

“The lore says-“

“Ooh, quoting the lore again now are we, Mr. Know It All?”

At this point, Sam is about as huffy and puffy as the big bad wolf and if he were a cartoon character, there’d surely be steam erupting from his ears. “Look, Y/N, this isn’t about who knows more or who’s right; this is about saving those people’s lives!”

“You think I don’t know that? Was I not the one who saved your life the first time we met?”

“OK, alright, just shut up you two!” Dean finally shouts above you, “Would it kill you to just get along for two seconds?”

“No,” Sam admits.

“Probably,” you say at the same time, causing Sam to shoot you his overly perfected bitch face.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“What the fuck?!” Dean’s booming voice echoes throughout the bunker and moments later you and Sam come flying into the kitchen to answer his call, guns at the ready.

“What? What is it?” you ask while Sam scans the room.

A whimper is the only the way to describe the sound of Dean’s reply, as he points toward an unseen object on the floor. Edging toward him, you lower your gun in the direction of his finger until you discover the source of Dean’s distress.

With a sigh, you look toward Sam who is also exhaling in relief at the sight of the entity in question. The two of you share a moment of wordless conversation before simultaneously dropping your guns with a conclusive nod.

“Why does this feel like déjà vu?” Dean’s tone is still timid and appalled, and you nearly laugh at the idea of a grown-ass man looking so aghast because of a used condom.

“Because it kinda is…” you supply unhelpfully, earning yourself a small glare from the man beside you.

“Dean,” Sam begins with a deep breath, “There’s something we have to tell you… Y/N and I are together.”

The snort that escapes Dean is full-bodied and borderline psychotic, “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa!”

You wait till his snickering subsides, “No, it- it’s true.” Your voice is hesitant yet hopeful, “We’re not joking. We’ve kinda become… a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, well you know, I don’t wanna have to put a label on it or-“

“Y/N’s my girlfriend,” Sam declares with conviction as he reaches out to curl his long fingers around your waist and lasso you towards him.

“-Buuuut, that is the one I’d use if anyone asks,” you quickly affirm with a stiff pat to your boyfriend’s abdomen, wincing at the unversed attempt of PDA and missing the dimpled grin that crosses Sam’s amused features.

“Well, I don’t buy it. I don’t believe either of you.” Dean’s sturgeon face comes on strong as he shakes his head and points a challenging finger at you, “Kiss him, right now,” he dares with perked brows.

The eye roll you respond with is so dramatic your entire head moves with it. But then, without a moment of pause, you turn your body into Sam’s, reach up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a searing kiss. Now this is something you’re well-versed in. The reunion of your lips starts off relatively slow, but it doesn’t take long to escalate into something more fiery that involves tongue, the eager push and pull movements of your bodies, and Sam’s enormous hands cradling your head.

After a moment of shock, Dean objects, “Alright, alright, I get it! That’s enough of that!”

Unwilling to recede just yet, you linger in the kiss for a little longer, delaying your separation by nibbling down on Sam’s lower lip and tugging gently, only releasing it as you pull away torturously slow. When the two of you finally open your languid eyes, it’s to stare into each other’s dilated pupils and ponder the moment for an indiscernible minute.

“What th- I said, I get it! Now could please stop ogling each other before my lunch comes back out the wrong way?!”

But the way Sam’s smiling at you is addictive and you can’t bring yourself to look away until he forces a break by leaning in to plant a tender kiss upon your forehead before tucking you into his side as he faces his brother again.

Dean’s face is covered by his hand, “I’m gonna need a minute. I just-“ His features leap through a range of expressions as he tries to find the right words, “When the hell did this start anyway? I thought you two couldn’t stand each other?”

“Yeahhh, that was mostly an act. Although we bought it at first too,” you explain with a shrug.

“We weren’t pretending the whole time. It just kind of happened and we didn’t really know how else to act around each other by then,” Sam adds.

“Right, basically it turns out there’s a fine line between love and hate... and that line is hardcore yearning.” Your words bring a chuckle to Sam’s lips but his brother still looks out of sorts.

Shaking his head with closed eyes, Dean sighs, “Alright, can someone just explain to me exactly how this happened, because I’m still not computing here. But spare me the details and try to keep it PG-13,” he emphasizes with adamant hand gestures.

“How do you know it’s not PG-13?” you inquire with a held-back laugh.

“Ha. With the way you two were playing tonsil hockey just now, I can tell you’ve been around the bend way more than I wanna know. My little brother doesn’t kiss like that on the first date.”

It’s impossible to hold back a giggle at the memory of your ‘first date’ and the way Sam had kissed you, “OK well, that would be hard, considering the story involves a lot of sex... You wanna give it a go, big guy?” you pass the ball over to Sam with a quirked brow and lowered voice, to which he responds with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, a little warning glance that you’re well aware means ‘save it for the bedroom’ but you simply smirk up at him.  

‘Big guy’ used to be a term you called Sam in contempt, but when the feelings between you evolved and a sexual relationship developed, it became an innuendo, such that calling him ‘big guy’ in front of Dean or in public almost always results in glorious sex. In fact, sometimes you believe the nickname has held a slightly obscene connotation for you since the beginning.

Afterall, your carnal longing for him has been present from day one, although at the time you had believed it to be purely physical. Sure, you had dreams about having him in various positions in your bed, but you figured those were merely betrayals of your subconscious mind. That was until one day, a heated argument in a rare moment alone had ended up in a violent make out session, after which the two of you had just barely gotten the last of your clothes back on before Dean walked in. One look at your worked up and frenetic states alongside the disordered condition of your surroundings, and he immediately assumed you’d been fighting again (which wasn’t terribly far from the truth), chortling as he asked if you would have killed each other had he returned a bit later.

With a clearing of his throat, Sam begins to recount the tale, “Uh, well it started in that motel in South Carolina, while you were out getting food…”

“Look, all I’m saying is there is no way he’s using the hospital as a dump site! It’s just not feasible!”

With complete disregard for the peace and quiet of the other residents within this thin-walled motel, you and Sam once again find yourselves in a shouting match.

“Oh right, I forgot! You’re Sam Winchester! How could you POSSIBLY be wrong?! Mister ‘look at me, my IQ and LSAT score match my fucking height! Oh and I also happen to have the physique of an Adonis without even owning a gym membership!’” you roar bitterly, gesticulating with your hands to help better communicate your pent-up indignation.

“Right and you’re Y/N Y/L/N, so how could YOU possibly be wrong? Miss ‘look at me, I never went to college but I’m a genius AND I can kick ass! Oh and I also happen to look effortlessly stunning through it all!’” Sam suddenly seems bigger than ever as he towers over you, that panty-soaking deep voice emanating from his diaphragm and infusing itself throughout the entire room until all you can see, hear, and breathe is Sam.

The fury takes over and you don’t notice your feet taking you closer to him, “Oh yeah because you don’t make EVERYTHING you do look so unnecessarily hot and make me wanna rip your clothes off all the damn time!”

“Fuck! And you don’t always drive me crazy when we have these stupid arguments and your chest starts heaving and you look so insanely delectable I just wanna pick you up and fuck you against the closest surface!” By now, the distance between you is essentially nonexistent and your brain is no longer run by reason.

“So why don’t you then?” are your famous last words, prompting Sam to grab you wildly by the back of a thigh, lifting slightly and driving you to climb up him like a spider monkey fleeing from a grounded predator, while his other hand pushes your hair aside to gain better access to your face. Your mouths clash in a fierce battle and before you know it, Sam’s huge hands are cupping your ass as your legs wrap around his waist and you rut into him, hands flying from his shoulders to his hair. Those divine chestnut locks that you’ve always dreamed of running your fingers through. They’re somehow even softer than you imagined and the revelation, in conjunction with the way Sam’s tongue is becoming increasingly aggressive causes a fresh surge of libidinous energy to rocket through you. As a result, you give his silky strands an irresistible tug and drink in the moan he makes, the sinful sound reverberating straight down to your core as you clench around nothing.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam groans as he grudgingly forces himself to pull back as much as he can, “Are you sure? Is this what you want? Cause I can’t- Y/N I won’t be able to stop myself if we keep going.” His eyes squeeze shut as if the notion of stopping or the act of keeping his lips away from yours is causing him genuine pain, and the entire gesture moves you.

“Fuck, you really are the opposite of everything I thought you would be,” you make a quick mental note to apologize later for your initially presumptuous behavior although you can’t find it within yourself to feel any remorse right now, “Yes, please Sam, fuck me. I want you so bad… I think I have since we met and I saw those gorgeous hands of yours,” you confess, biting your lip lightly.

Sam breathes out a low incredulous laugh, “What, these?” he asks, removing one of the aforementioned hands away from your butt to bring it into your line of vision.

“Yes, fuck they’re so big and beautiful and strong and-“

“Alright, I don’t need to know about your weird hand fetish!” Dean hollers abruptly, rubbing his fingers across his eyes as if he could somehow erase the image of you and his brother together out of his retinas. “OK, but that was like… four months ago. You mean you’ve been sneaking around behind my back this whole time?”

“Well at first we didn’t want to tell you because we weren’t even sure what it was ourselves,” you divulge.

“Yeah, we didn’t want to try to explain something that we didn’t understand yet,” Sam supplements, hoping his brother will understand the motive behind your secrecy.

You nod along, “But then… it got a little harder to hide.”

The apprehension behind Dean’s emerald eyes is unmistakable as he reluctantly inquires, “That’s why this felt like déjà vu?”

It’s with a grimace that you reply, hesitantly, “Remember the time you found those panties in the backseat of the Impala?”

Dean’s eyes grow comically wide and Sam ducks his head in preparation of what’s to come.

“Yeah, there’s a story behind that…”

The click of her heels against the porcelain-tiled foyer irritates you as the three of you stride through her front door. You’re posing as detectives sent to question this overdressed young woman about her late husband, but the moment she lays her eyes on Sam, you reckon she’s forgotten her beloved’s damn name.

“Oh my… lord and savior. Well aren’t you a tall drink of water?” she beholds breathlessly with a seductive bite of her painted ruby lips.

You cough loudly and Dean sniggers, thinking you’re annoyed about Sam getting such commendation and attention during a serious case.

“I know this might be the grief talking, but I would climb you like a tree,” she purrs, sauntering up to Sam with an exaggerated sway of her hips. With her half-lidded doe eyes adorned with dark, fluttery lashes and low, sultry voice, you have to admit she’s quite attractive.

Grinding your teeth as your nails dig into your palms, you glower at the woman unreservedly. She, however, takes no notice, running her hands along Sam’s forearms before gripping at his bicep to lead him toward her living room. “Please, come have a seat, detective. You can ask me whatever you want.” The wink she appends is somehow the final nail in the coffin.

It’s with zero hesitation that you feign the reception of a notification on your phone before declaring, “Oh would you look at that, the uh… Sheriff needs us back at the station, Sam. He says it’s urgent.” You try to keep your tone even, thankful that you all maintained your real first names for these aliases, “Dean, you’re good to conduct this interview on your own, right?” Without waiting for an answer, you trample over to snatch Sam’s other arm and ignoring the horny widow’s gaping mouth, proceed to haul him away.

Dean sends you a strange look but relents, “Uh, yeah I guess, OK.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, your hand shifts down to lace your fingers with Sam’s, marching him towards the Impala with a staunch and mighty purpose. Even Sam’s elongated legs stumble to keep up.

“So uh… when did you give the Sheriff your number?” There’s an edge in his voice that normally disappears when it’s just the two of you.

“Wha- I didn’t. Sam, I just made all that up,” you tell him as you reach the car and open its back door. Pushing Sam inside, you climb in swiftly after him, wasting no time as you straddle his thighs and begin to undress him, only pausing when he looks up at you in adorable, puppy-like confusion.

“Wait, what? Then what are we doing?”

That’s when it finally dawns on you, “Hold on a sec, were you… jealous?” You can’t help but smile, finding it amusing that he’s stewing in his own envy after what you just witnessed.

“No, I just- He was kinda all over you this morning.”

“You mean like the way Mrs. My-Husband-Just-Died-But-I-Wanna-Climb-You-Like-a-Tree was in there?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Sam perks up, the hint of a smug grin ghosting across his lips.

“She was practically holding your hand!”

“That’s what bothered you the most?” He dips his head to catch your eyes and those variegated irises burn into you with an intense, questioning gaze, alight with mischievous curiosity.

“They’re my hands to hold,” you contend with a pout, subconsciously clenching your thighs around his as you seize one of his large hands with two of your much smaller ones, “Just like you’re my tree to climb.”

Sam’s head falls back in bright laughter, “I thought you said they were ‘oversized’ and ‘ungainly’?” he teases, quoting your previous slights.

“You know I only said that cause Dean was there.”

“I’m pretty sure you called them ‘fumbly’ and ‘lumbering’ the first time we met.”

Staring at his fingers as you play with them, you shiver at the memory of how they feel all over you. “That was cause I used to think all hunters with a Y chromosome were cocky, misogynistic assholes who needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”

“But I proved you wrong, right?”

“Fuck yes you did. So, so wrong. And now you’re mine, and I don’t like seeing other people touch what’s mine,” you growl before returning to your earlier task of removing his clothes, pouncing on him when your fingers finally land on bare skin. You kiss him fiercely, swallowing his surprised grunts with glee, and as his hands start travelling from your hips up to your back, holding you tight against him, your lips move down to his pulse point, sucking, licking, and nibbling, “Mine.”

“Fucking Jesus Christ on a cracker! You goddamn rabbits!” Dean squawks in protest as he begins to pace the floor, “Have you no decency?! And in my poor Baby! While I was busy doing all the work, saving lives!”

You roll your eyes at his melodramatics and can feel the tension in Sam’s abdominal muscles as he attempts to restrain his laughter. As if Dean had never taken a break during a case for a stress-relieving quickie before, or hadn’t been at least somewhat grateful to be left alone with a beautiful woman.

His next comment confirms your point, “Although, if I remember correctly that lady was a fox.” After a brief pondering pause and an introspectively appreciative smirk, Dean’s whining resumes, “But seriously! I can’t believe you two! Here I was feeling bad for forcing you to work and live together, hoping you’d eventually learn to get along when this whole time you were shacking up like animals and casually defiling my Baby just because what? Some girl touched Sam’s hand?!”

Feeling emboldened by the catharsis of this long-overdue airing of your dirty laundry, you decide to add to Dean’s exasperation, “Yeah and in the spirit of honesty, that might’ve happened more than once.” Sam tries to hold back his snort as he gives your hip a playful cautionary squeeze while Dean’s feet come to a full stop as he turns to give you a death glare. “Hey, it’s not my fault all the pretty girls like Samuel! And I’m pretty sure we wiped her down after.”

“I don’t even-“ Dean purses his lips and quirks his head with a dynamic expression of unbearable vexation, “You better be getting me pie every day of the week for what you did.“ He takes a deep breath before circling back, “Wait, OK so you’re telling me that a used condom ended up in our kitchen because- what? You two couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to find a bed? You know what, forget I asked. I don’t wanna know. Did you at least sanitize the place after?? No, of course you didn’t, you left a fucking condom on the floor… I think I’m gonna throw up.”

But you hardly hear Dean’s rambling because you and Sam are far too wrapped up in each other, smiling as you recall the events of that morning.

Your eyes slowly drift open to find the most exalting sight in all the world: Sam Winchester’s sleeping face, blissful and serene. Lifting a hand to gingerly cup his cheek, the corners of your mouth curl up when he leans into your touch. It’s moments like this that make you wish you could wake up next to him every morning.

Only after you’ve traced his every feature and planted a soft kiss where his dimple would be if he were awake and smiling, do you carefully peel yourself from his side, slipping out of his hold as you quietly climb out of bed. Sam rolls over a bit and you freeze with bated breath, watching as his big arm extends out in your direction as if trying to reach for you in his sleep, before stilling again.

Mornings like this are rare and you want him to soak up all the restful sleep he can. Once you’re sure you haven’t woken him, you scan the room for something to cover your naked figure, until your eyes land on the flannel he’d worn the night before. Picking it up, you bring it to your nose and inhale deeply to revel in the residual scent of Sam. Another glimpse at his peaceful, sleeping form has you smiling fondly. God, you are such a goner for that man. It’s becoming hard to reserve your soft looks toward him for private moments alone.

You can barely remember how it happened, but over time, you’d come to learn that Sam is nothing like you originally imagined him to be. He’s kind-hearted and open-minded, the type of soul that can find hope and beauty in even the darkest of places, a far cry from the shallow macho man silhouette you’d expected him to fill. In fact, Sam routinely defies the expectations others have enforced upon him, proving his worth time and time again as he’s persisted through some of what must be the toughest challenges to ever face a single human. Yet through it all, his spirit remains intact, never once yielding to cynicism or resentment or apathy or even the building of walls as you and Dean have resorted to. He is truly the bravest man you know and infinitely more competent than your first fluke of a hunt with him had mistakenly suggested, both in the field and in bed.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you wrap yourself in plaid and head out the door. Dean never questions your use of Sam’s shirts because ever since Sam firmly insisted on giving you his flannel after your second encounter with them resulted in Dean cutting your own top apart, you’ve grown into a habit of borrowing Sam’s clothes. You always claim they’re more comfortable than your own and Sam’s feigned annoyance over you ‘stealing’ his belongings tides Dean right over.

Half an hour passes before Sam approaches the bunker kitchen to find you with your back towards the entrance, busy prepping breakfast in nothing but his plaid. He pauses in the doorway to stare at you for a minute, licking his lips with an irrepressible smile. For some, this may seem like a stereotypical morning after, but for a couple of hunters, it feels like a dream come true.

After finally returning to the bunker last night following the completion of a series of successful hunts, you’ve got no solid obligations and very little on your to-do lists today, although Sam’s got more than a few ideas about how to pass the time, and a couple more come to mind when you stretch up on your toes to reach for something, causing the hem of his shirt to glide up until its corner reveals just slightest hint of your incredible ass. Sam can’t suppress his little grunt of approval, which catches your attention and makes you turn your head, peering back at him over your shoulder.

You smirk at the blessed view of him standing there in nothing but the pair of thin grey sweatpants you’d bought him a month ago when you discovered the viral online phenomenon, “Hey, big guy. You just gonna stand there and gawk or do you wanna make yourself useful and grab another plate from the top shelf?”

Chuckling at your false animosity, Sam stalks toward you, “Good morning to you too.” One of his vast hands falls upon your hip as he presses the maximum possible length of his body into your back side, while his other hand reaches up over your head to snatch the plate you’d asked for.

“Good morning indeed,” you concur with a silent gasp when you feel the generous bulge in his pants.

“Oh that’s not morning, baby girl,” Sam husks into your ear, “That’s all you.” His powerful arms slink around you and his lips find their way down the side of your neck, lingering in that tender spot just behind your ear whilst you tilt your head and close your eyes, contentedly surrendering yourself to the moment. “I ever tell you how good you look in my shirts?”

Wiggling your butt back to tease him a bit, you’re pleased with the hiss it elicits. “No, but you made it very clear how bad I look in Dean’s,” you counter playfully.

The man behind you scoffs, “I didn’t say you looked bad; you could never look bad. I just… don’t like seeing you wear his clothes.”

“Oh, I know,” you turn around in his arms, “I just don’t understand how Dean doesn’t know yet. I mean, I think you’ve been very obvious.”

“And you haven’t?”

“I’m not the one who leaves hickeys in very visible places all over your body!”

Sam’s eyes glaze over in lust, an idea clearly forming in his head as he glances down at you. “Dean’s a hot-blooded guy; he needs to know you’re off-limits,” he alleges before attacking your throat with his mouth.

“So why don’t we just tell him?”

Without pausing his efforts, Sam reminds you, “Because you said you thought it was kinda hot, all the sneaking around. Mmpf, and because you said you wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out.”

You nod while running your fingers through his silken strands and leaning back to give him more purchase, “That’s true. But in my defence, we always have this conversation when we’re doing stuff like this and I can’t think straight when your hands and mouth are on me.”

“Kinda like how I can’t think straight when you’re wearing nothing but my shirt?” His kisses travel down from your neck to your collarbone and shoulder as he slides his loosely buttoned flannel off to one side, “Fuck, you’ve got me so hard.”

Without warning, Sam seizes your waist and hoists you into the air as if gravity were an absolute joke, before plopping you down on the edge of the steel counter, his thumbs digging lightly into your ribcage.

“Sam! This is where we eat!” you protest with a laugh.

“Exactly. Which is why I’m gonna devour you here.” He dives back into your neck, continuing his work on a little pink mark that’s already beginning to form.

“Oh fuck… Wait, what if Dean walks in?” It’s through a great struggle that you manage to push him back an inch.

“He’s got a date with the Impala. He’ll be in the garage all day, trust me.” Sam’s gaze sweeps over your body suggestively, “Now are you gonna let me taste what’s mine?”

With an equally lewd survey of his extensive frame, you reply, “As long as you let me impale myself on what’s mine later.”

His eyes darken and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted ignites a confidence within you, so in a rather swift motion, you grasp him by the shaft through his sweatpants – the delicious groan he emits at your touch is enough to turn your pussy into a slip and slide – and pull him back towards you until the clothed length of him is resting against your folds and your noses brush, while his hands settle naturally on your thighs.

Shivering, your breath stutters and for an instant you can do nothing but bask in the closeness of him. Sam seems to enjoy it too because he closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours with an elated sigh. For the second time today, you marvel at his beauty, whispering a string of gasping kisses along his lower eye socket and exquisite cheekbone, simply dying to breathe him in. All of him is so immaculate and sublime. Each time the two of you reconvene, you want to savor every fucking inch of him, but there are a lot of inches, so the task often overwhelms you. Still, you must try. Locking your ankles behind him, you use your legs to pull him even further into you and the friction makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck, baby girl, you keep that up I’ll be making a mess in my pants,” Sam grunts with his lips upon your cheek.

Your breathless laughter fills the air, thinking of the stain you've undoubtedly already left on his charming grey sweatpants. Nimble as he is, Sam takes advantage of your open mouth and plunges his tongue inside. After so much preamble, the kiss is heavy and full of need. When the pressure of his lips pushes your head back, your hands fly to his wrists for the sake of your balance.

From there, they journey upward across his vascular forearms to his bulging triceps, fondling his massive shoulders before sliding along his traps and up the gorgeous length of his perfect neck, until you finally reach the treasure trove of his impeccable locks. You tangle your fingers into the lush mane and yank, gently but zealously, making Sam growl into your mouth. His voice is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and the sounds he makes always drive you insane.

Never breaking the kiss, Sam’s colossal moose paws roam up to your back as he slowly lays you down on the counter, his member somehow still notched at your entrance and the new angle rousing a quiet moan from you. When he ultimately pulls away, you pitch forward to chase after his lips, but Sam only grants you a devilish grin and a quick peck to the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw and neck. While one palm kneads at your breast through his shirt, the other begins pushing and pulling at fabric to uncover more of your skin for his wandering lips.

“Sam! Augh!” you cry out as your head falls back.

“I got you, baby. I’m all yours. Gonna make you feel so good.” As if to attest his words, he rolls his hips into yours and a needy whimper escapes you. With your fingers still twisted in his hair, Sam leaves no part of you untouched as his mouth travels down your body. But upon reaching your navel, he pauses, those vivid, color-changing eyes peeping up at you to check for any signs of discomfort or objection. Finding none, his thick tongue pokes out to lick a deliriously winding path from your belly button to your exposed clit. Then, pushing down tenderly on the insides of your knees to open you up to him, Sam directs you one last look that is both hungry and reverent, “I still can’t believe this is mine.”

Dean had stopped you halfway through your recollection, but it appears that was still too much for him, “What did I do to deserve this?! I feel like I need to go bathe in holy water for a week.”

You and Sam both open your mouths to respond but Dean cuts you off vehemently, “Ba-da-da-da!” His vocalized outcry is complete with animated gestures featuring an accusing index finger. “OK, before you two tell me another traumatizing story, that’s enough of the who, what, when, where, and how… I just need to know why. I mean, is this- are you- …?”

Sensing the protective wheels turning in his head, you decide to put Dean out his misery, “I’m not just with Sam because he’s an incredible lay if that’s what you’re wondering. We can skip the fatherly ‘what are your intentions’ talk. Yes, Dean, I am in love with your little brother… although ‘little’ is not exactly the word I’d use to describe him.”

“Sammy, could you please control your woman?”

“My woman?” Sam sounds mostly amused but you’re almost certain you can hear a hint of pride in his voice.

“Yeah, I admit I’m surprised I didn’t see it until now. You two are kinda oddly perfect for each other, you know, in a weird, kinky way.”

“To be honest, we’re pretty surprised too. I mean, he doesn’t look it but this guy is kind of territorial,” you quip whilst cocking a thumb in Sam’s direction.

“I don’t need to- Wait a minute, so all those bruises you told me were from hunts?” Dean’s eyebrows soar towards his hairline.

Chewing on your lip, you confirm his hypothesis with a miniscule nod.

“Yeah well that time you saw my back,” Sam chimes in vengefully, casting you a handsome grin full of mischief as he reveals, “that wasn’t a werewolf, that was Y/N.”

With eyes as round as dinner plates, Dean frantically shuts you both down, “OK, that’s it. Torture Dean time is over. I don’t wanna hear any more about your depraved sex lives! Look, I guess I’m happy for you guys, although mostly cause I don’t have to play referee anymore, but I’m gonna need you to follow some ground rules around here. Like rule number one! No sex in public places!” he starts counting with his fingers, “Always put a sock on it when you’re busy! And most importantly, no sex in Baby!”

Your laughter follows Dean as he wearily saunters out of the kitchen, an exhausted expression on his face. Turning to your newly outed boyfriend, you petition excitedly, “Does this mean we can have shower sex now?”

“Not while I’m around!” comes Dean’s snappy answer.

In contrast, Sam gives you the same look he did on that dreamy morning, “Oh trust me baby girl, I’m gonna get you wet somehow.”

“Still within hearing distance! I think I liked it better when you guys were at each other’s throats.”

As you’re giggling, Sam leans down to whisper in your ear, “For the record, I’m in love with you too.” And just like that, you’re tempted to re-enact your previous kitchen escapades.

TEAM IDJITS: @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @carryonmywaywardbucky​ @swiftlymoniquesblog​ @moosewinchester​ @sams-sass​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ @jotink78​ @winifrede​ @writingforthelonelysoul​ @turtletaylor98​ @lyarr24​ @deanwanddamons​ @peridottea91​ @tvdspngirl314​

TEAM MOOSE: @paulaern​

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[imasorenson]

What they gifted as a secretsanta (Fablehaven 2021 edition) :

here is my annual secret santa at fablehaven!! 3 years going strong, i hope you’ll like it !!

kendra : she got warren and gave him two tickets to go parachute jumping and a cooking book ( and i quote ) because « eating grilled cheese everyday is not healthy, not even when you had brocolis warren, you’re supposed to be an adult ». she also went over the budget by buying him a first aid kit, cause he’s always doing something stupid.

seth : he got vanessa (again, he gets her every single year it’s like a running gag) and he gave her twilight merchs but it was team jacob, since last year he gave her a mug and a tshirt team edward. ruth got mad at him so he also bought tea and things to make coffee for the actual gift.

warren : he got bracken and he went all in, he bought matching hoodies for him and bracken with bromance written on the back, he made a mug with his own face all over it and he bought matching bffs necklaces because he couldn’t stop laughing at the thought of them wearing the cheap necklaces together (of course bracken started to wear it instantly).

vanessa : she got mara and she was so excited to get her because vanessa thinks mara is a fashion icon, she bought her jackets, pants, hats, everything she thought would fit her aesthetic. literally everyone wishes vanessa picked them because she never follows the budget limit, she loves buying personal gifts way too much. mara was really excited to try everything on.

bracken : he got kendra and he got so stressed about what to buy her, she always makes amazing gifts so he wanted to be up to her expectations. he managed to find a creative way to spend time with her and make her happy. he made a box full of cozy things, like socks, things to make hot chocolate, candy, popcorn, blankets, etc. and he explained her that it was for a movie night that he had plan, they would watch a movie outside with little lights and a projector. kendra’s favorite movie is lord of the rings, so he of course told her they would watch that (the extended edition).

ruth : she got stan, she took the occasion to bought him things he never take the time to buy. he always says he’s fine and he doesn’t need it (which is not true). so ruth bought him new boots, new shirts (without holes in them cause she literally can’t look at the ones he’s wearing anymore cause she gets annoyed), and a new set of kitchen stoves so he can make pancakes in pretty ones.

tanu : he got seth and tanu was actually really happy to get him. he already knew what he wanted to give him and he really hoped seth would like the idea. he made him his own « potion master starter pack » and promised him to teach him the basics of it, seth was so exited that he wanted to start right away.

mara : she got tanu, mara is very thoughtful and she always listen to what people tell her, so she bought gifts tanu talked about in the past (like socks, a water bottle, etc) she even went on a special mission to get him things that he needed for his potions. he was so happy that he almost cried.

stan : he got ruth and stan is surprisingly really good at wrapping gifts, but he’s the worst at finding them. he asked the help of kendra and she told him books her grandmother wanted (she didn’t expect him to buy them all but he did), ruth recieved so many books that she could create a whole new library with them.

dale : he got trask, when they gave each other their gifts it was actually hilarious, everyone was trying to hold back their laughters, because dale and trask barely know each other and they’re both pretty reserved people, and for some reason they gave each other the exact same gifts, which they both loved, they talked about their gifts the whole night and realized they had many things in common. the gifts in question were a whole set of cds by their favorite band and some headphones of really good quality.

trask : he got dale and like i said, they both bounded with their love for music.

[emilysshortstories]

Paul Lahote Part One

trigger warnings: ??? Nothing yet but not promises that will keep in later parts

words: 1543

It’s in those moments of deep desperation that you find hope. Or it seems to find you. When I left home to live with my uncle, miles away from my home, desperation was the only thing on my mind. Desperately running away, I didn’t want to face that part of my life that I already felt as though I was behind. I wanted to start fresh. I still do, so why does the reason I came here matter? My uncle, Charlie, agreed that he wouldn’t tell a soul about the events that lead me to his home, not even his own daughter. Who never really dropped the subject of course, but knew it wasn’t any of her business. I wasn’t naive enough to actually believe that I wouldn’t have to face problems here, but I think that’s what drew me here. Different problems, and that’s what I got. 

When I first moved here my cousin, Bella, had a boyfriend who she spent most of her time with. She still introduced me to everyone and showed me around, but when he moved things shifted. Bella completely shut down, she was always quiet and reserved, but this was different. She was numb. It took her a really long time to talk to anyone, and when she did, it was only me, Charlie, and her friend Jacob. They were always working on these two motorcycles together, sometimes I would join them. Jacob was nice, clearly had a massive crush on Bella even though she always denied it. 

One day when I tagged along I met Quil and Embry, they also seemed nice but I didn’t talk to them much. I didn’t talk to anyone that lived on the reservation actually, not until I had to stop Bella from doing something stupid. Feels like I’ve been doing that a lot lately. 

She was pissed. I’ve never seen her this angry before. I was a little scared to get in the car with her, but the fear of what she was going to do with this anger overpowered me. I stayed in the car when she stormed into Jacob’s house, but practically leaped out as I saw her approaching “Sam’s cult”. I was too far behind her and couldn’t reach her until she had already slapped one of the boys. “ALRIGHT” I yelled at Bella, getting in between them and seeing the boy start to shake in anger. “What you’re NOT gonna do is pick a fight with Mr. Mc steroids over here.” I continued while looking the boy up and down. We made eye contact. I didn’t want to but I froze and felt something turn in my gut while he immediately stopped shaking. I quickly shook it off and turned back to my crazy cousin. “Lets leave. Get in the fucking car John Cena”, pointing to her truck. I heard a bit of laughter as we walked away, but didn’t turn around. I didn’t even dare look in the rear view mirror as I drove off.

After Bella calmed down she admitted that slapping a 7 foot Greek sculpture wasn’t the smartest move. “They did something to him, I know it. Jacob’s too scared to tell me what’s going on but I’m gonna figure it out.” Bella said with gritted teeth. “Listen, you know Jacob better than I do so it’s your call, but maybe consider the idea that it’s none of your business? You and him have been friends since preschool. I feel like if it was necessary for you to know, he would have told you”. By the time I finished my speech Bella had already shut down. Just like she was before. Broke my heart seeing her like this. Maybe I should talk to Jacob or the “cult”, just be civil about it. 

So that’s what I did. The next day I drove to Jacob’s house, but Billy said he wasn’t home and to try Sam’s place. Well, he said Jacob wasn’t home and I begged him to tell me where he might be. For some reason he caved and told me where to find him and not Bella. I tried not to think about it too much or let my anxiety get the best of me while driving. 

When I knocked on the door, I didn’t expect a small, sweet woman with a huge scar across her face to answer the door. “Hi, can I help you?”

“Yes, I was looking for Jacob?”

“Are you Bella?”

“No, I’m Y/N, Bella’s cousin.”

“Oh. OH!” She seemed really surprised to find out this information. “Jacob it out with Paul right now. Working. They will be back soon though if you would like to come in, the rest of the crowd is here. I’m Emily, Sam’s fiance.”

“Oh I can come back another time, I don’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t be silly, we are all friendly and we are dying to get to know you.”

What does that mean? I walked in and saw everyone I saw yesterday but Jacob and the boy Bella slapped. Paul. “Hey Embry, how have you been?” I asked, seeming he was the only person I recognized. “Good, You?”

“I’m ok, just worried about Bella. Wanted to give Jacob a bit of grief for leaving her high and dry. She’s taking it a bit hard, but I also wanted to apologize for how she acted yesterday. Slapping who I assume is Paul wasn’t cool at all. I’m sure she feels really awful about it.”

“It’s not Jacob’s fault for leaving Bella. You don’t have to apologize for Bella, I think we have all wanted to slap Paul at some point in time.” Sam said.

“Got it, but is there anything I can do to get Jacob to talk to Bella again?”

“Jump in line, we all want him to talk about it so we don’t have to hear him monologuing all the time about it.” Embry said, before the third and last boy elbowed him really hard. 

“So none of this is your doing?” I asked all the boys.

“Not exactly, no.” Said Sam. 

“Ok. That’s some clarity at least.” I said with a smile.

“Why don’t you sit down, muffin, before the beasts attack them?” Emily offered a bowl full of muffins the size of Ohio to me.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you.” I said while taking a muffin and sitting next to Embry. Emily was right that the boys would attack the food, holy shit. “So why don’t you tell us about yourself?” Emily said, seeming excited and sitting across from me. “What do you want to know? I’m pretty much an open book.” 

“What brings you to Forks?” The ONE question I hate.

“Running away from my problems, if i’m being honest. I’ve always loved the rain, needed a change, and my uncle, Charlie, offered me a room. So I took it.”

“I like that, where are you from?”

“Austin.”

“Texas?” said the only boy who I didn’t know.

“No, actually it’s a small secret base on Mars. I’m an alien.” This made everyone laugh, especially the strange boy. “Sorry, I never caught your name?”

“Jared, you always that sarcastic?”

“Yes, humor is my only likable personality trait.”

“I hear that” said Jared while raising his muffin. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“I write, read, and love watching movies and TV shows. I'm a big music lover but I think that’s just a side effect of being born and raised in Austin. Since moving here I’ve really taken up hiking though, it’s so beautiful here. Not just flat desert like in Texas.”

“The only TV show I watch is New Girl, nobody here seems to watch it.” Said Jared and before I even thought it through my favorite Schmit quote fell out of my mouth.

“You would have been my nightmare. We were on very strict instructions from Rabbi Schmolli not to say anything until the very last christian kid found out about Santa Claus. Ruining Christmas? Very bad for our brand.”

Everyone seemed to like me after that and conversation flowed freely. I really liked spending time with everyone and lost track of time until I saw that the sun was going down. “Oh shit, I gotta get going, I’m not used to driving on ice yet and don’t want to drive on these roads when it's dark. Thank you so much for being so nice to me Emily, it was really nice talking to everyone.”

“Oh but Paul isn’t back yet” Emily said quickly. “And Jacob.”

“I can give Jacob shit anytime and I’m sure Paul isn’t my biggest fan after what Bella did so I think it’s a good idea to head out now. Thanks again though.” I said and started making my way to the door. 

“Of course! No problem, please come by again. I liked talking to you too and I’d love you to properly meet Paul.” 

We walked out just as Jacob and Paul emerged from the trees, but as soon as Paul made eye contact with me, that same flip happened in my gut again before he took off running back into the woods. Guess that answers my question on if he’s mad at me. 

[hanniiesuckle17]

All I Want For Christmas

A/n: so this started off as a blurb......then i got carried away.......so.......happy christmas everyoneeeee also HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO MY SECRET SANTA GIFT PARTNER !!!!!! (also this is not thoroughly edited I'm soso sorry )

For: @hansoulmin  HAPPY CHRISTMAS BABY!!! I was your secret santa! I hope you like it! 

Tag List: @ashisparanoid @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @hanstagrams @desertofdessert​ @hoes4hoseok​ @yangomangos​ @jeonqqin​ @geminirules​ @crscendoforsung​ @mrsunshine999​ @jisungsjheekies​ @hannie-squirrel00​ @cotccotc​ @kodzu-ken​ @konenichi​ @yangs-jeongin​ @strykiss​ @skzwriternet​

Warnings: cussing, lots of sexual tension maybe...idk

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: Minho and Y/n have never gotten along for reasons unknown to anyone. After circumstances arose, Y/n is stuck with Minho driving him up to the cabin the boys rented. It seems that things go terribly wrong at every turn as Y/n is kept from her long desired Christmas vacation. Will she be able to change Minho’s mind about Christmas....and possibly his view on her? 

Genre: Christmas au, enemies to lovers au, fluff, romance, slice of life au, forced to share bed trope, Fem reader

❅

Out of all people, the universe seemed to only choose you to throw misfortune on. You were nice. Some might even call you kind and selfless! You were by all means a good person! So why? Why out of all the eight other people going on this vacation did you have to stay behind a day and drive Satan’s spawn up to the cabin?

Lee Minho was a grown man of twenty two years. He should be able to drive himself! Also what was his deal? The rest of the boys had cleared their schedule for a week and a half of Christmas vacation.What was so important he had to delay your winter getaway as well?

The frigid winter wind bit at your skin, latching onto the soon disappearing warmth. You rolled your eyes watching the coat clad form of Minho come down the stairs of the entertainment building at a painstakingly slow pace. You had no clue why, but ever since you met, Minho had been nothing but cross and hateful towards you, and it seemed like he had no intention of changing. 

“Y/n.” Minho said coldy, tossing his duffel bag into my arms. 

“Satan.”

‘Clever.”

Deciding to be the bigger person, you securely placed his bag along with yours in the trunk and walked over the the driver’s side. The door slammed shut as Minho sunk into the passenger seat. “This is going to be a long ride,” you mumbled. 

An hour into journey and your prediction was already coming true. The two of you sat in awkward uncomfortable silence. Minho stared out the window seemingly unphased by the unwieldy tension. “Should I turn on some music?” You asked, reaching for the radio.

“No. It will just make things uncomfortable.”

You scoffed, retracting your hand. “I don’t see how it can get more uncomfortable than this.” Minho rolled his eyes turning to look at you. 

“It will be annoying for me when you start singing along to the radio and I have to tell you how utterly shit your voice is.” There was no hiding the scowl on your face. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel. Only five and half more hours with this asshole. 

You sighed, glancing over at the man in your car. He was messing around on his phone, completely ignoring you. It was like the conversation you had only a few seconds ago had never happened. “Look. I know you hate me and you definitely aren’t my favorite person either.” No response came from Minho. He simply rolled his eyes. “What was so important that you had to delay my Christmas vacation? Don’t you like Christmas? What possibly would be worth setting back such an amazing holiday?”

Hearing no response you looked over at Minho in question. He was looking out the window with a rather pointed scowl. “Not everyone loves Christmas.”

“What? Everyone loves Christmas! Christmas is the best time of the year!”

“Well, not me. I don’t like Christmas.”

“WHAT?!”

You turned to him eyes wide. “Hey! Eyes on the road!” Minho grabbed the steering wheel and jerked the car back into the right lane. “What’s so wrong about not liking Christmas?” Light snow flurries began to fall on the windshield. “Christmas is just another stupid holiday. There’s nothing special about it. Plus it’s cold.”

“Maybe you really are satan....” You mumbled under your breath. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.....I just can’t believe you hate Christmas...”

❅

Two painful hours later you were driving your impossible passenger down a long stretch of snow filled road. The windshield wipers screeched as they pushed snow off the glass. The storm had really picked up as you drove further out of the city. The roads were icy and you did your best to keep your old run down car from drifting. 

“How much longer?” Minho sighed, resting his head on the cool glass. 

“Quite a bit-” BANG!

Suddenly, it was much harder to control your car. You felt a rumble in the back wheels. Minho shot up in his seat. “Wait- what the fuck is going on?” Easing your foot off the gas, you pulled over onto the side of the empty road. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” Hitting your steering wheel, you tried to hold back your frustration. Tears pricked at your eyes, begging to spill over. There was no way you were going to cry in front of Lee Minho. Couldn’t one thing go your way this year? As if this wasn’t bad enough, a loud bang came from your engine and smoke started spilling from the hood. “Fuck...” 

Defeated, you let your head fall onto the wheel. A long continuous blast came from the car horn. Minho grimaced, covering his ears. “Can you like....stop?” You turned to look at him. Feeling even more dejected under his gaze you lifted your head, ceasing the blaring noise. 

Taking a moment to gather your emotions, you blew out a shaky breath. “Just....stay in the car, I guess. Not like you’re gonna help anyway.”

Jerking open the car door, you stepped out onto the snowy road. Deciding to look at the hopefully less damaged part of your car, you wrapped your coat further around your body and walked to the back of your car. Just like you thought, the rear left tire was completely blown out. 

“I knew my car was shit, but I thought it was going to last at least another two years.”

Now it was time to face the music, or rather the smoke. Snow falling at a fast pace, you shuffled through the cold and around to the front of your car. Raising the hood more smoke rose into the winter air. Looking around you saw it was getting darker. You had told Chan you and Minho would be at the cabin the boys rented by dinner time. It was already six o’clock.

A quick glance under the hood was enough to tell that this car was going no where. Brain trying to solve the prediciment you somehow ended up in, you crouched down and attempted to come up with a way out of the situation. So deep in thought, you didn’t even hear the sound of the passenger door opening and closing. 

“I’m assuming you can’t fix this.”

Looking up you saw Minho standing over you. His hands were stuffed into his coat pockets and white snow flurries floated onto Minho’s dark brown hair. “Do you just assume I’m useless at everything?” Minho rolled his eyes. The man turned around and opened the trunk. He returned with your bag as well as his. 

“Come on.” Not even casting a glance your way, Minho tossed your bag at your kneeling figure. The momentum sent you falling onto your butt, the wet cold snow immediately seeping through the one warm layer you were wearing. 

“Where the fuck are you going?”

“There’s a hotel a couple miles away.” Minho said holding up his phone. 

Pushing yourself off the ground you grabbed the bag and hurried to catch up with the sulky hateful man who was already walking further into the snowfall. “Are you serious?” You questioned, trying not to slip on ice. “Hey- Minho! What the fuck, dude?” 

“Come on, idiot. Keep up.”

“Minho! Wait up!”

❅

The sky was almost pitch black by the time the two of you made it to the hotel. Whether it was from the snow clouds or time you weren’t sure. Minho had not bothered to wait for you. He was already through the sliding doors of the building before you had reached the hotel’s driveway. “Selfish jerk.” You mumbled, dragging your bag through the rising snow. 

You did your best not collapse as you were embraced by the warm heating in the hotel lobby. Minho was brushing the show from his hair as he confidently approached the front desk. The clerk greeted him with a friendly smile. 

“Hi. We need two rooms please.”

Her smile faltered a little bit. “I’m so sorry, sir.” She wrung her hands together, keeping that hospitality smile on her face. “With the snowstorm, almost every room is booked.” Minho sighed, casting an annoyed glare your way. 

“Are you sure?” 

After catching your breath, you joined the singer at the desk. The lady typed away on her computer. Looking over, you could see red boxes by all the rooms she scrolled through. “I’m so sorry, sir. But all but one of our rooms is booked.”

“We’ll take it.” You jumped in, eager to have any relief from the storm outside. 

She smiled and Minho grumbled something under his breath. “Okay then. Here is the key to our Honeymoon Suite. It’s on the fourth floor at the end of the hall.” There was no stopping the blush flooding your cheeks.

“H-honeymoon suite....?”

“Yes. It’s our last room.” 

Minho snatched the key card from the woman’s hands. “You’ve already said we’ll take it. Stop blubbering and get your stuff.” Grabbing his duffel, Minho began walking towards the elevator with no intention of waiting for you. 

The concierge looked at you with pity. “You’re boyfriend isn’t the nicest...is he?” 

With a scoff you replied, “Believe me, Minho is not my boyfriend.”

Rushing through the lobby, you squeezed through the elevator doors just as they were closing. Minho remained silent as you both rode up to the fourth floor. Your wet feet against the plush carpet was the only sound to be heard as you walked to the end of the hall. 

Before he could slide the keycard, Minho scowled at the heart engraved on the door. The happy beep and green light prompted him to push into the room. His scowl deepened as he flicked on the lights. 

Even with the lights turned on, the room was cast in a warm dim glow. There was only one bed, shaped like a huge heart with rose petals strewn across the duvet. Your eyes widened seeing a tall metal poll in one corner of the room, red light shining down on it. Subsequently a similar color grew on your cheeks. The whole room was lavishly decorated and had several interesting adult objects lying about.

“This is.....”

“What? You can’t handle a little atmosphere, Y/n?” Minho taunted with a smirk. He tossed his bag onto a chair, seeming to enjoy your embarrassed state. 

You sat on the bed only to jump up and scream feeling it move beneath you. “It vibrates?! What the fuck! Who makes a bed that vibrates?!” Minho chuckled, possibly the first time you had ever seen him give anything remotely close to a genuine smile. 

“Not kinky are you, Y/n?” 

You froze. Your hands gripped tightly onto your bag and you pulled it higher to cover your chest in embarrassment. “Regardless, there is no way I’m sleeping on that thing.” He shrugged and flopped onto the bed, rose petals flying into the air. He looked rather comfortable, completely unphased by his surroundings. 

“Suit yourself.”

Cautiously, you sat on the plush couch holding your bag like a teddy bear. This was certainly not how you imagined your Christmas. You were so looking forward to spending Christmas with your friends. Decorating the tree. Sitting by the fire in the rented cabin. Eggnog with slightly too much rum. Giving gifts you spent way too much of your paycheck on. Now you were stuck in some hotel sex dungeon with the devil spawn. What a Happy Christmas it was turning out to be. 

❅

After getting used to the room, you showered and changed clothes to leave Minho to do the same. While he cleaned up, you phoned a nearby auto-shop and asked them to tow your car in and fix it. Finally able to resolve the stressful phone call, you let your head fall into your hands. Minho exited the bathroom rubbing his hair with a towel. 

Just as you were about to tell him the only slightly good news, the lights shut off. Both of you looked around in confusion. “Minho, did you do this? Is this some kind of prank? Cause, I’m not afraid of the dark.” He shook his head and grabbed his phone from off the dresser, using it as a flashlight. 

It was then you noticed that the room was getting colder by the second. Rubbing your arms, you shuffled over to your bag and grabbed a cardigan. A knock sounded at the door. Sighing, Minho answered it.

“Ah- Mr. Lee! We are so sorry about the inconvenience. It seems the powerlines have frozen over and the hotel has lost all electricity.” A man wearing a bellhop uniform said. Hearing the news, you came to stand next to him. “We are doing our best to get our generator up and running. It seems our heating system is also down.”

“How do you expect us to stay like this?” Minho asked with a cold stare. The man shrunk under his gaze. 

Slapping Minho’s shoulder you pushed him aside. “Stop being a grinch. Thank you so much for letting us know.” The man nodded and pulled a blanket from a nearby cart. You flinched awak from his cold hands as he passed it to you. The poor thing. He must be freezing walking around the halls in his uniform. 

“Here. This extra blanket will help. The hotel will also discount your stay.”

“No, take the blanket. We’ll be fine. You need it more than us. Thank you for doing such hard work!” The man smiled and thanked you profusely before you closed the door. Turning, you found Minho looking at you strangely. “What?”

He looked you up and down before scoffing and turning away. “You’re just so nice to everybody. You’re so gullible.” 

“Gullible?” You couldn’t believe him. “I’m not gullible. It’s called being nice. Have a little Christmas spirit will you.”

He rolled his eyes, dragging a hand through his damp hair. “I already told you. Keep all that Christmas bullshit to yourself. It’s all just an excuse for the tinsel and ornament industry to make money off losers like you.” 

There was no convincing him otherwise, so you simply watched as he pushed back the covers of the bed and climbed in. “Fine. Be a grinch or a Scrooge or a Hans Gruber for all I care.”

“Hans Gruber?” Minho questioned, head popping up in the dark. 

“Die Hard is a Christmas movie too, okay?”

You were shocked to hear a chuckle come from the big heart shaped bed. Sure, you must be imagining things, you took down a rather thin blanket from the closet and headed to your spot on the couch. Your barefeet flinched at every step on the cold hardwood floor. Curling up into a ball on the sofa, helped your body temperature rise a little bit, but you still froze with the tiny blanket you used. Eventually, you fell into a cold restless sleep. 

❅

You awoke to some shuffling in the room. Assuming Minho was getting up to get a glass of water or something you tried to go back to sleep. But, you were puzzled as you heard his footsteps come closer to the sofa. Unsure what he was doing, you pretended to be asleep, wrapping the blanket more around your shivering body. 

“I’m only doing this cause I can’t sleep with all that teeth chattering,” Minho whispered under his breath. “It’s not like I care...” 

Suddenly you felt his long fingers gently reach out for your ankle. Still pretending to be asleep you resisted the urge to flinch away. Brows furrowed and eyes still closed, you tried to figure out what he was doing. Minho tenderly pulled what you imagined to be a pair of his socks over your cold bare feet. Your breath hitched as his soft hands brushed over your skin. He was....being kind? 

Hearing movement, you shut your eyes tighter as Minho pushed himself off the ground. “That should be fine.....” He whispered. You waited, but didn’t hear him walk away. “Why am I even bothering...” Again it seemed like he stayed. After another moment of silence he shifted. 

Surprisingly, you felt his hands reach under your legs and behind your back. He lifted you into the air and pulled you into his chest, carrying you as if you were the most fragile thing he had ever touched. Minho moved across the room before gently placing you on the bed. The covers were pulled up to your chin and you felt him tuck in the fabric around your body. You were shocked to say the least. 

Surprising you further, Minho climbed into bed next to you. His arm cautiously wrapped around your stomach and pulled you flush against his warm chest. You were feeling very conflicted for many reasons. Deciding to test just what was going on, you turned around, eyes still closed, and hugged onto him tighter. You buried your face into his chest. He froze obviously contemplating what to do. 

Hesitantly, like his body was stuttering, he let his arms fall around you in an embrace. You found yourself....content. His scent was comforting. He smelled like amber and some sort of spice you couldn’t quite name. Just as you were about to fall asleep, Minho sighed and let his fingers tenderly stroke your hair.

“This doesn’t mean I like you....” He whispered. There was something in his voice that made you not believe his words. You didn’t have time to think about them, because you were soon lulled into a deep sleep. 

❅

The next morning you woke up to soft white light streaming through the hotel curtains. Minho was still asleep next to you, fingers still tangled in your hair. The room around you was cold, but your body was nothing but warm in Minho’s arms. You smiled remembering Minho’s kind action last night. Not knowing how he would react you decided it might be best if you weren’t in the room when he woke up. 

Each time you moved, you were sure the man was bound to wake up. Finally you swung your legs over the side of the bed. You smiled, looking down and seeing his gray warm socks on your feet. Your eyes widened as realization passed through your mind. 

Did you like Minho?

Looking over at Minho’s sleeping face, you felt your hears start to beat faster. Grasping at your chest, you tried to still your literally beating heart. This was not a problem for now. Minho could wake up any second and you didn’t really want to confront these possible feelings with him awake. 

Sliding into a pair of the hotel slippers, you shuffled to the door, rubbing your arms to keep warm. Slipping the keycard into your cardigan pocket, you closed the door quietly so as not to wake up the sleeping singer just yet. 

“Oh- I am so sorry!” Someone said, bumping into you. 

“It’s fin-...Hey, I know you!” You turned to find the bellhop from the night before. “Has your shift not ended yet?” 

He shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “The roads are icy, plus they have everyone staying because of the power situation.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. He seriously was a hard worker. “By the way, we got our back up generator working, but there seems to be something still wrong with the heater.” 

“Don’t worry about it! Minho and I were fine last night so I’m sure the other guests were as well.”

He chuckled. “You’re really nice. You’re like walking Christmas spirit.” You smiled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh- the kitchen staff managed to scrap together our usual breakfast service downstairs. You should go check it out. It was nice talking to you, Mrs. Lee! Merry Christmas!”

“Oh- I’m not...” But it was too late. The bellhop was already swiftly moving down the hall. 

Deciding to move past the conversation, you headed downstairs to the breakfast buffet. The lobby was full of Christmas decorations; something you had missed last night in your urgent desire to get a room. It made you smile. A reminder that Christmas Eve was tomorrow. 

Following the delectable odor of breakfast food, you wandered into the buffet area and built two plates for you and Minho. Balancing the full platters of food like a professional circus performer, you journeyed back up to the room. By some feat, you opened the door and entered the still freezing room.

Minho sat up in bed, still looking half asleep. “I...I- uh... I brought breakfast. I wasn’t sure what you liked so-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll eat anything warm right now.” 

Wearing a nervous smile, you sat down on the bed across from Minho and handed him a plate. The two of you ate in semi awkward silence, this time for a very different reason. “So-”

“About last night...” Minho started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I-...I-...you're teeth were chattering pretty loud and-”

You smiled, stopping his train of thought. You could practically see every word he had planned to say leave his brain. “You don’t have to say anything. Thank you, Minho.” The boy nodded, hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at the plate of food.

Another silence followed only slightly less awkward. “If you don’t mind me asking,” Minho’s head raised at your voice. “Why do you hate Christmas so much?” He sighed, shoving a sausage in his mouth and chewing on the savory food. 

“I just never really got the whole Christmas thing. My family never celebrated. Every time we try to get together for the holidays everything just seems to go wrong. Just like how things are going now.” He scoffed picking up another sausage.

“Okay...I can respect that. But...you’re hatred of Christmas seems to be more than that.”

Minho rolled his eyes. Contradicting his actions, he reached over and placed a piece of his toast on your plate. “It’s just....I don’t get it. Like, explain to me what is so great about Christmas.”

You set your plate down with a grin and ate the piece of toast Minho gave you. “I don’t know. I just get this warm feeling around Christmas time. I love seeing all the love that people share. There is just something about Christmas that brings people together. It’s beautiful everywhere and everything is just bright and happy.”

Minho smiled watching you talk. You rambled about all the things you loved about Christmas, from making snowmen to decorating the tree, to watching people unwrap their gifts. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about the way you spoke that made his stomach twist in knots. 

At some point you stopped talking and noticed the dazed look on his face. “Did you even listen to me?” You looked down at your lap, slightly disappointed. Not liking the frown on your face Minho quickly nodded his head.

“Yeah, of course.” 

Before he could remedy the tension he accidentally created, your phone rang pulling away your attention. Minho watched you get off the bed and walk away to answer the phone. Your back turned, he started beating himself up about not paying full attention to what you were saying. 

“So, Minho,” You said turning to face him. “That was the auto shop. They said we should be able to pick up the car tomorrow afternoon. Thankfully we’ll be able to see the boys on Christmas Eve!” 

Minho smiled, watching your face light up at the good news. “That’s great.”

❅

After two nights in a hotel, you were finally pulling into the driveway of the rented cabin. It was gorgeous! The huge vaulted roof was covered in snow and the warm wood stood out against the blanketed white backdrop. “Minho,” You said slapping his arm to get his attention as you parked the car. “Look how pretty this is!”

He looked up from his phone, first looking at your bewildered grin, then the lodge in front of you. “Yeah,” You stared in wonder at the place you would be staying for the next week. “Really beautiful.” Turning you found Minho already looking back at you. For some reason, just the way he was looking at you had your stomach doing somersaults.

Pushing your hair behind your ear, you attempted to calm the heat on your cheeks. Both you and Minho awkwardly laughed and looked away from each other. Pressing your hands to your cheeks, you tried to pat away the blush like an idiot. 

“THEY’RE HERE!”

Suddenly, seven rambunctious boys stampeded out of the house and came bounding through the snow to your now fixed car. They pounded happily on the windows and had you not known them, the event would be absolutely terrifying. “Guys, let us out of the car!” Minho shouted with half a laugh. 

Eventually, you were dragged into the cabin by the idols and hugged until your faces turned blue. The inside was even more beautiful than the outside. Everything was made out of wood and there was practically a wall of huge windows overlooking the snow covered forest. 

“What took you guys so long?” Jisung asked hanging off your arm. 

You sighed, ruffling his fluffy hair. Minho watched with a pointed stare. “Well, my piece of junk car broke down and so Minho and I were stuck in a freezing hotel honeymoon suite. but, now we’re here and I cannot wait to start our Christmas vacation!”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah. Back up. Honeymoon suite?” Chan asked with raise brows, looking between Minho and you. The look stopped when Minho made a slice motion across his neck. “Well....um...guys I hate to break it to you, but there's only like 5 rooms and the rest of us have already paired off.”

The band collectively ‘oo-ed’ and started jokingly shoving Minho around. “Think you lovebirds can survive without biting off each other’s heads?” Jisung said jokingly. Obviously he was kidding, but you were blushing more in the last hour than probably ever in your life. 

Thankfully, Chan noticed your embarrassed state and ushered everyone away to let the two of you settle in. Christmas Eve with the rest of Stray Kids was quite possibly one of the greatest nights of your life. By the time everyone retired for the evening, it was almost midnight. Your room was smaller than the hotel suite but shared the commonality of having....one bed. 

While Minho was in the shower, you snuck downstairs to get a better look at the tree Hyunjin, Chan, and Jeongin had put up the other day. The lights twinkled on the real tree that was standing tall in the living room. A fire was raging in the fireplace. The glow of the flames reflected in the red, gold, white, and green ornaments. 

The tree reminded you of the one your parents used to put up when you were little. Feeling the urge to act childish you crawled on your hands and knees until you could lay down under the tree and look up into the lit branches. Resting your hands on your stomach, you smiled looking up at the shiny glass orbs. 

“Y/n?” Minho called out into the wide expanse that was more than an excuse for a living room. “You in here?” Turning your head, you watched his sock feet come down the stairs two at a time. 

“By the tree,”  Through the branches you watched him approach the large Christmas tree. 

Minho chuckled and kicked your leg lightly. “Whatcha doin’ down there, idiot? you look like the Wicked Witch of the East!” He soon regretted the comment as a swift kick was directed at his unprotected calf.  “Ow!” He exclaimed, rubbing his leg. “But, really, what are you doing down there?” 

“You never did this as a kid?” He shook his head. The strong smelling fronds obstructed most of his face from your view, but you could make out the glint of his round spectacles in the firelight. “Come here!” 

Letting out a sigh with an intention you couldn’t decipher, Minho got on all fours before crawling to lay next to you under the Christmas tree. His shoulder brushed up against yours, making your skin tingle. “What’s the point of this?” He whispered after a few moments of staring at the lights. 

Shrugging, you answered, “I don’t know. When I was little, my parents fought a lot. I used to walk down in the living room and lay under the tree. Sometimes I would pretend all the little lights were stars and I would wish for a Christmas miracle hoping maybe that this year they would stop fighting. Or at least fight a little less.” As you spoke, you watched the ornaments and colorful Christmas lights sparkle and twinkle. “Some years it worked. I really did get a Christmas miracle.”

“I think you were the Christmas miracle.” Minho said turning to look at you.

“I doubt that.”

“Well...you’ve made me not...not like...Christmas. I’d say that’s miracle quality.”

You laughed, reaching for his hand on instinct. His eyes widened, but the boy let you grasp onto his fingers. “Minho, you really aren’t so bad. I feel like maybe I just didn’t take the time to get to know you.” Minho grinned. You felt like it may have been the lights, but a rosy dust filled his cheeks. 

“Yeah, well....like I said. You’re my Christmas miracle.”

You were at a loss for words. Minho shifted his fingers to interlock with yours. “Can- can I kiss you?” He asked with baited breath and furrowed brows, eyes trained on your lips. If you weren’t sure of his feelings, you knew now. Fearing your voice would betray you with any attempt to speak, you nodded and looked through the glass lenses into his deep brown eyes. They were softer than you had once thought. 

Slowly leaning over Minho pressed his lips against yours. That warm feeling returned to your stomach and slowly traveled until you’re whole body felt like it was glowing. Minho kissed you under the twinkling colorful lights of the tree, earasing every other bad thought or thing he had ever said to you before. He pulled away as the grandfather clock in the hall struck twelve. 

“Merry Christmas, Minho.” You whispered, his lips still inches away from yours. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/n.”

❅

“GOOD MORNING CHRISTMAS LOVEBIRDS!” Hyunjin screamed, bursting into the room you and Minho shared. He shrieked seeing the two of you, legs tangled together under the sheets. With sleepy eyes, Minho sat up and tossed the pillow you were using at the blonde’s head. 

“Minho! That was my pillow!” Groaning, he just laid back down and pulled you into his chest, letting you use his arm as a headrest. 

Chan pulled Hyunjin from the floor shaking his head at the drama queen. “In all serious, guys, Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin are very eager to start opening presents so get your butts downstairs.” Minho raised his arm to shoo his leader away. The door closed returning you to your original state of privacy. 

Minho kissed your forehead, snuggling back under the warm duvet with you. “You know this is the first Christmas morning I’ve been excited to wake up. This time I’m just excited to see you though.” 

“Never would have pegged you for the cheesy type, Lee Minho.”

He chuckled, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss. You were unable to keep the smile from creeping up your face. “We should get down stairs. The boys will be missing us.” 

“Fiiiiine.” He grumbled, pushing himself off the bed. Slowly, your body still waking up, you swung your legs over the side. Before your barefeet could touch the ground, Minho’s hand once again wrapped gently around your ankle. He smiled up at you, kindness in his dark brown eyes. Tenderly, his long fingers slid a warm pair of his socks over your feet. “My Christmas miracle can’t have cold feet, can she?”

Smirking at your blush, Minho took your hand and led you out of the cabin bedroom. You joined the rest of the boys around the tree, Jisung already tearing open a gift and Seungmin passing out presents. Minho found the last empty spot on the couch and pulled you into his lap. 

“You too seem pretty cozy,” Changbin stated, with a knowing look on his face. 

Completley oblivious to the conversation, Jisung chimed in. “So, Minho, did you finally figure out what you want for Christmas? Shopping for you was so hard!” Jisung groaned, holding his new gifted plushie in his arms. 

“I gues all I want for Christmas this year is Y/n.” Minho said with a smile. He leaned over and kissed your cheek, not afraid of any of the boys making fun of him apparently. 

“SO I SHOULD JUST RETURN THE $475 JACKET I BOUGHT YOU HUH?”

❅

Masterlist

[itsdelicate]

well,,, I have to be honest, I don't really know much kpop so what are ur fav songs by blackpink and twice? I haven't watched as much musicals as I've meant to and I've reallyyy wanted to watch wicked so I think I will now!!

ooh i think its totally fine to ask me stuff too. I'd love it even. other than taylor, i really love mitski and hozier. also I've been listening to a lot of florence + the machine lately, she's great.

question of the day: what's ur fav show and ur comfort show? I'm more of a tv show person than movie so if ur more inclined to movies just answer for those!!

xxx ur secret santa <3

ps. rec some musicals to me!! i really have been meaning to watch more. and yay for winter breaks!!

pps. also I saw ab the whole thing w ur assignment and I'm sorry that sucks. u can rant when u reply to these whenever!! sending u big hugs and hope u have the best winter break!! <3

that’s okay!! my fav bp songs are as if it’s your last, lovesick girls, forever young, don’t know what to do and stay <3 for twice i really like feel special, dance the night away and alcohol free 🫶 omg please do if u get the chance to!! i’ve loved wicked almost as long as i’ve loved taylor ahsjd

oooh i love that! i’ve heard some stuff from all of them but i’ve never gotten into any albums so if u have some specific album or song recs send them my way 👀

i’m a show person too! i love anne with an e and heartstopper as go to comfort shows 🤧 what about you!

oh my gosh musical recs not sure if you meant filmed productions/movie or in the theatre but if it’s the latter then my top 3 are wicked, matilda and phantom of the opera (and the matilda musical movie just came out so!!)

thank you 😩 i’m genuinely so upset about it it’s dumb absjf but i really appreciate that ily 🥺 your messages make me so happy!! i hope you’re having a great week!! ❤️

[cp77nyexchange]

CYBERPUNK 2077 SECRET SANTA SCHEDULE & MOD SEEKING

HELLO EVERYBODY THANK YOU FOR EXPRESSING INTEREST IN THIS EVENT!

I’ve finally nailed down most of the details, so it’s time to share!

What is it?

Simply, it’s an anonymous fandom gift exchange held during the winter months. Fanfic writers and artists sign up, giving their offers and requests, and are then given someone else’s request to create for. Offers/requests consist of mandatory details like at least one ship, at least one character and do not want’s; as well as request details like likes and prompts (both optional), and if you’d be open to receiving not safe for tumblr content as/in a gift. It’s all anonymous until the gifts are posted, hence the Secret Santa name.

Who can participate?

Any fic writer or digital/traditional artist (of age 18 and up; for legal purposes and also my own convenience). You must simply be able to meet the minimum requirements. You can also sign up as both artist and writer, but in the end you will make only either fic or art, depending on your recipient’s request.

ALSO you will be able to additionally or only sign up as a pinch hitter - meaning, if there’s someone whose request can’t be fulfilled (because no one’s offering anything they’re requesting, someone else withdrew from the exchange and their recipient has no gift, etc.), you will create the gift! If you’re interested in being a pinch hitter, please reach out to me - I’m especially looking for artist pinch hitters, since that’s something I can’t do myself. Writer pinch hitters are of course also needed. Ideally, I want to have at least 5 PHs on standby for both art and fic (so at least 10 total, if every PH only does art or fic). I will also make a separate post for PHs with more details.

Requirements?

Fic: Minimum 1000 words of complete fic - no WIPs! All fic must be new and original, and created specifically for your recipient. The fic cannot be a sequel to another fic or part of a series or specific AU of yours that the recipient did not request.

Art: Art doesn't need to be fully colored but should look finished - no WIPs or sketches! Both digital and traditional art is allowed. Art pieces must be new and original, and created specifically for your recipient. In the case of traditional art, it can't be on lined paper and the quality of the digital picture must not be so bad as to not be recognizable (i.e. no blurry pictures).

SCHEDULE

(may change, though not significantly)

Sign-ups Open: 11th September

Sign-ups Close: 21st October

Assignments out by (latest): 31st October

Check In: 1st December - 5th December

No-Penalty Withdraw From The Exchange Deadline: 8th December

Gift Posting Period: 28th December - 31st December

Where is this happening?

Mainly on tumblr and discord; and on AO3 for fic (and art) posting if you wish to. Important information will be posted to this tumblr, of course. You also NEED to join the discord server, for organization purposes. You don’t have to interact or talk at all, I just need to know you’re there so I can contact you easily with your assignment/you can check in over DMs. I will also use the discord @everyone function to remind people of upcoming deadlines and such. There will be an AO3 collection, of course.

What was that about mod seeking?

Right! Basically, I need people to help run the discord server. Currently, it’s just me and I’d rather not be responsible for keeping the peace (though hopefully there won’t be too much need for that!), especially since I’m not in the most popular North American timezones.

You’d be expected to do community moderation, like:

Making sure the members follow the rules and get along

Issuing informal and formal warnings to misbehaving members

Muting members, if necessary

Voting to kick/ban a member

Resolving disputes between members

Answering questions, if you can

If you’d be interested, please do reach out to me either by messaging this blog or my personal tumblr @anaisonfire. Ideally, I’d like at least 4 mods, even better if it’s more.

I don’t plan on needing help with the actual running of the exchange, though I may ask any discord mods for their opinion on various rules phrasings and such (to make sure I’m talking sense). In case my planning turns out to be an act of hubris, I might ask discord mods if they’d like to be exchange mods as well.

That’s it in essence! Please check back in the coming days/weeks for more info, and absolutely do not be afraid to ask questions! (Anon is on.)

-anaisonfire

edit: also please reblog this, since tumblr refuses to show it in the tags ;-;

edit 9 sept: the deadline for withdrawing is no longer valid