#I’m not a Grinch please just enjoy without me

[foxybouquet]

Those of you who have trauma associated with the holidays, and maybe are even being obligated to make merry when all you really want to do is hide inside an impregnable blanket fort until mid-January at least: I see you, I am you. I want to run away from all of this forced, fake merriment. I’m done with the physical exhaustion of making sure everything is JUST SO. I’m not a Grinch…if you enjoy it, more power to you. But please leave me out of it.

[coichii]

LAST CHRISTMAS ✭

—(🎧)—> ever since last year, you’ve dreaded the holiday season. the feeling always brought you back to when he broke your heart. but can this relationship with chan fix that idea?

pairing - bf!chan x fem!reader

genre - est. relationship, fluff & comfort

word count - 1.8k

warnings - nothing I can think of…!

series note : hello !! welcome to part one of my winter series, “winter records of love” where there will be 8 individual short stories for each member :) these stories are based off of songs I deem “winter” feeling ! this story is based off of “last christmas” by Wham!. enjoy !!

This year, to save me from tears, I'll give it to someone special

You were getting sick of the Christmas carols and songs already.

The holiday times haven't been very…cheery recently. Last year, you had a not so positive break up with your ex, and as much as you hate to admit it, it tainted the holiday season for you.

It was more than just ending things, it was messy and came with lots of heated and disgusting words directed towards you. The moment he walked out without ever looking back is the moment the chilly wind and gingerbread smell was ruined, tainted with the feeling of abandonment he had given you, and you weren’t sure if that would ever be fixed.

You started dating your best friend, Christopher, not too long after that, falling in love with the way he comforted and cared for you afterwards, looking at him with a new profound love. He fixed the deep cracks in your heart, but fixing the deep hatred for Christmas? You weren’t sure if even he could do that.

◂—♥︎—▸

“Damn I hate the cold.” You shivered, looking back at your boyfriend who was stifling back a giggle. “My nose burns.”

The couch is drowned in fuzzy blankets, but it’s not working. Home alone plays on the screen infront of you, but you’re not paying to much attention. His dorm room even smells of evergreen and peppermint, totally “winterified” to his liking. It has you feeling like the grinch.

“I guess I just have to hold you to make you warm, huh?” He winks, opening his arms and laughing at your playful eye roll. Nevertheless, you find yourself in his arms in less than two seconds, cozying up in his strong arms and warm sweater. “Better, baby?”

“Very much so.” You exhale, nuzzling up into his neck like a cat does its owner. He knows you hate this time, and he knows why. He remembers the night you came to his apartment, tears staining your beautiful face.

He stayed with you all night that day, keeping you from falling down the spiral that could have been a very nasty panic attack, but he’s comforting like that, and you love every moment of it.

“You know I hate this time, so thank you for being with me during it. Im sorry if I’m ruining the time for you.” You whispered, and he can hear the quiver in your voice and see the unshed tears in your eyes when you do.

“Don’t apologize, y/n, you know I don’t mind. Just want to make my baby feel better, hmm?” He consoled, rubbing your back and looking and you with fond eyes. You wanted to belive him, you really did; but it’s hard to when you’ve been told you’re a burden by some of the closest people in your life.

He can tell you’re not buying it, opting to just rub the small of your back in a silent consolement. He wants to find a way to make you feel better, a way to put a new life into Christmas for you, but he’s struggling.

That’s until he thinks of the perfect thing.

“Baby? Are you free Friday?” He asks, looking at you as confusion takes over your features. “Yeah, why?”

“I’m going to take you out for a date.” He responds, snaking his arm around your waist. You frown at this, but you feel guilty. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” He whispers, eyes burrowing into yours. “Please trust me.” And you believe him. You believe every word.

◂—♥︎—▸

You have only yourself to blame when you find your self shivering in the passenger seat of Chris’s car, but you’re not really complaining.

You guys stopped for some hot cocoa on your way there, so it was helping you warm up as guys drove to a more rural part of the city.

Where were you guys going? You had no idea; he wouldn’t tell you. It had your heart beating with excitement and anticipation, but also nerves. You were sure you would love anything he could do for you, but the feeling was still there.

“We’re here, baby.” He says, grabbing your hand in yours. You look outside the window, surprised when you’re met with an abundance of people, but a practically empty field. “Uhm..where are we, channie?

“Cmon, you’ll see in a second.” He ushers, getting out of the car just to walk to your side and open the door for you, being ever the loving gentleman. You can see the nervousness stirring in his eyes as he helps you out, worrying if his plan will work the way he wants it to. But still, he was to move on.

“Okay, I want you to just trust me and close your eyes okay? I won’t let you trip.” He smiles in satisfaction as you do as asked, grabbing ahold of your hand as he slowly and carefully guides you along the rough, rocky path.

It’s a long, unsteady walk, but you can hear the sounds of crowds getting louder as he walks you to who knows where. “Oohs” and “Ahs” radiate through your senses as he suddenly comes to a stop, letting go of your hands and placing them infront of your eyes instead.

“You ready, baby?” He asks, heart racing with anticipation. Your heart mirrors his, the cold normally bothers you, but with him standing right near you, it’s not as chilly as it normally would be. “Yup! I’m ready.” And he slowly lifts his hands as you open your eyes.

Your eyes are immediately met with bright lights, different colors reflecting their illumination across the pond they were sat next too.

The lights spelled out different words and pictures, some even being animated into various silly motion pictures.

To say you were stunned would be an understatement, it was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. As your mind processes the view infront of you, you slowly start to process what his plan must’ve been. Then it clicks.

He took you here, a place he was sure you’d love to give you a new perspective. He wanted to get rid of the sorrow and grey cloud that hung over this season and fill it with the beauty and cheer he knew you once had. Man, did his plan work.

You can tell it did when the lights start to get wavy and blurry, eyes filling to the brim with tears as one tips over the eyelid, coating your cheeks in the salty moisture.

Your silence had been worrying him the entire time, but he knowingly relaxes when he sees your reaction, engulfing you in a tight, comforting hug.

He holds you as you crave his warmth, rocking you slowly back and forth as a say to console you. He feels the wandering stares of others as they walk by, but he doesn’t care. You’re the only person he cares about in this moment.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” You finally stutter out, burying your face into the crook of his neck where his warm, fuzzy scarf lays, giving you warmth on where the brisk, cool breeze hits your face.

“You don’t have to say anything to me. Just let me show you around, okay? It’s the least I can do for you.” You hear the sincerity in his tone as he speaks to you, so your not surprised when you find your self grasping his hand and he walks with you slowly.

Step after step after step shows a new inch of the land you haven’t seen before, childishly pointing out every new light fixture you see, looking up at Chris with the stars in your eyes as he just smiles at you.

The amount of photos he took is ridiculous in your words, but he knows you’ll never understand how absolutely breathtaking you always look to him.

The lights reflecting onto your perfect hair and glowy skin, the sparkling lights only brightening the ones in your eyes, the way you look with such excitement and purity every time you find a new light fixture? It has him utterly speechless to where he’s surprised with himself.

All he can do is grab onto your hand as you guide him through the crowds, running around like a little kid on a sugar high. Funny how the tables turned; first it was him cowardly leading you, now it’s him being dragged along and begged to stay for a little longer by you.

It has his heart filled with such joy, but your heart? Oh it’s expended tenfold.

The fact he would take time out of his busy schedule, take you out during a season you’re not that happy during, and show you to the most beautiful place you had ever seen before had you swooning.

The thought of your ex never popped in your mind not once, pushed out by the time you spent here with chris. It might be the best you’ve felt in a while, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Not ever.

◂—♥︎—▸

“That was seriously the best time of my life, baby. Thank you so much. I seriously can’t believe you did that for me even after I’ve been a literal grinch recently. It means the world to me.” You confess, snuggling further into the gingerbread decorated blanket that was splayed across his torso.

He chuckles at your grinch comment, cute dimples poking out for just a second. “I’m telling you, baby. You better stop apologizing to me or I’m going to turn into the grinch.” You chuckle, eyes lighting back up again.

“Don’t you worry about that. I know it’s a hard time for you, so I just wanted to give you a new perspective. Don’t ever apologize for feeling how you feel and expressing those feelings. I love you the way you are, grinch or not.”

“Well thanks to you, there wont be a grinch me coming out ever again. I love you, Chris.” And you’re kissing.

Slow and sweet, taking in all the actions of this week to relish in each other. It’s been a whirlwind, but with him by your side, warming you up during it, you’re sure you’ll be okay.

Everything will be okay.

back to masterlist

[sailorrhansol]

i'm a ho ho ho..... cheol/chan/reader.... bonus if chan is in a "learning" role and cheol is in charge of the whole thing :) :) :) my brain is a basic bitch i can't do anything with her

Pairing: Chan x Reader x Seungcheol

Summary: You always enjoy the office holiday party each year, especially when you get to do secret santa. This year, you enlist Seungcheol’s help to give Chan the perfect gift. 

Word Count: 5,632

Genre: PWP, Polyamorous, Established Relationship (Cheol x reader)

Type:  Smut

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: Just pure filth honestly. Fucking in an office when they totally should not be, mention of power dynamics in the sense that Seungcheol is both Chan and reader’s boss but they kind of skip around that even though Cheol explicitly makes sure to let Chan know it’s okay to reject, semi-public sex if you count the fact they’re in an office, implied but not explicit dom/sub dynamics with Seungcheol as the dominant and reader/Chan as the more submissives, oral (f. receiving) and vaginal fingering, pussy drunk Chan, spitting, multiple orgasms, a little bit of overstimulation, some hair pulling, biting, a lot of heavy kissing and making out, it is a light threesome - this is mostly reader and Chan with Seuncheol very involved in instruction/kissing/touching them. Nickname use: baby for reader, Channie for Chan and one (1) Cheolie for Seungcheol

A/N: Mojo Jojo Siwa I love you so much. Happy belated birthday but also happy it-took-me-three-weeks-to-fill-your-request. I BELIEVE IN BOYS KISSING BOYS DURING THREESOMES SO IF YOU DON’T LIKE THAT SHIT GO AWAY. ALL SIDES OF THE TRIANGLE TOUCH IN MY WORLD BECAUSE BISEXUAL SUPREMACY. Anyway - here is this absolute filth and dream that Jo convinced me to write - I cannot be held accountable for how many times hands and mouth and spit are mentioned thank you 🫡

A/N 2: THIS IS UNEDITED BECAUSE I’M THE GRINCH AND I DON’T WANNA BETA READ MY OWN STUFF. SPELL CHECK WILL HAVE TO DO FOR RIGHT NOW. 

Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Haliday’s Request Event

Nervousness creeps up as you watch Chan open up his gift, eyes zeroed in on the way his deft fingers peel back the wrapping paper carefully. Chan is always so careful, his touch delicate and precise, sliding his fingers under the seam of the paper to pry it open without ripping anything. 

Holiday music plays loudly over the speakers on someone’s desk. Everyone talks and sips on drinks, gathered around the conference room table as Chan finishes opening his git, shedding the wrapping paper. He’s already grinning, lower lip tucked between his teeth as he shakes his head, red creeping up the side of his neck. 

You try not to react, pleased to see that he likes the stack of limited edition books you’ve gifted him. He runs his fingers over the decorated edges, just as careful not to damage them as he was with the wrapping paper. You squirm in your seat, sipping more champagne to quell the dryness in your throat and give you more liquid courage. 

Someone places a hand on your shoulder and you spare a glance upward, though by the scent of the heady cologne you already know it’s Seungcheol. He’s watching Chan with a smirk, his dark hair pushed out of his face and his glasses sliding a little down his nose as he watches Chan look around the table, flushed and pleased. 

“This is way over the purchase limit,” he laughs, scratching the back of his neck and shaking his head. Mingyu lets out an impressed noise, leaning over to see the books and ask what they are. “They’re a limited edition and signed copy of my favorite fantasy series.” 

“Damn, someone likes you,” Mingyu mutters, sipping his beer. “Time to guess.” 

Chan’s eyes flicker to you. You hold your breath, your pulse thumping in your throat as you try not to avert your eyes. Chan’s eyes drift upward to Seungcheol, who you can feel is equally amused. There’s indecision on Chan’s face, his fingers drumming atop the stack of books. 

“Come on,” Mingyu urges. “Guess.”

Chan’s eyes return to you. Back to Seungcheol. Then to you again. You grin, watching as he tries to work out which one of you bought them. You’re the only person in the office who would know how much he valued that specific book series, but Seungcheol is the only one in the office who makes overspending and spoiling his employees a habit. 

Especially Chan. 

“Fuck, it’s hard,” he admits, gaze settling on Seungcheol, finally. “You, boss?” 

Seungcheol chuckles, the motion of it shaking the back of your chair. You can feel his thumb brushing back and forth on your shoulder, soothing and warm. It feels nice, the champagne turning his touch molten. 

“Nope,” Seungcheol answers, popping the ‘p’ sharply at the end. “Sorry, Channie.” 

Chan’s blush intensifies as he drops his gaze, shaking his head. He cradles the books close to him, possessive. He spares you a glance when he says, “Whoever bought these is far too nice of a santa. I don’t deserve this.” 

He does deserve it. Chan is the youngest member of your company and by far the hardest working and the sweetest. Over the last two years, you’ve watched him grow from the shy, nervous junior employee to a full time member of the staff who is… still shy, but a little more confident in his work with an incredible mindset. 

Sure, your opinion of him is a little bit biased. Chan is your work husband, the person you’re closest to and who you can always go to when you need to vent about Mingyu fucking up your spreadsheets or for help when you have a last minute firedrill to solve. 

Despite, of course, your actual boyfriend being a few yards away in his executive office. 

Seungcheol doesn’t mind that Chan is your work husband. In fact, he adores it, teasing you when you get shy after vehemently praising Chan during a meeting or nominating him to take more responsibility to prove himself. He likes that Chan has you to take care of him, to lead him through the corporate world when Seungcheol is too buried underneath meetings and paperwork to do so. 

Someone else starts opening a gift, but your eyes are reserved for Chan. You lean into Seungcheol’s touch, eyes fluttering when his hand moves from your shoulder to the back of your neck. His grip is firm, kneading the muscles along the back of your neck until you’re melting. Your grip tightens on the flute of champagne a little, the plastic nearly cracking under your grip. 

When secret santa has finished, you stand up to help gather the leftover wrapping paper. Coworkers filter out into the main office, turning up the music and dancing around the cubicles as another bottle is popped. You help shove wrapping paper into a trash bag with Joshua, feeling a little dizzy and warm from the bubbles. 

A hand on your lower back makes you straighten. Seungcheol leans down, mouth brushing against your ear when he murmurs, “Go wait in my office. I’ll bring Chan in for his real gift.” 

Your stomach flips at that. You glance at Joshua to see if he notices, but there is nothing to notice. Everyone knows that you and Seungcheol are together - you’ve been dating for five years. He limits his affection in the office, but it's not uncommon for him to press a quick kiss to your head or leave his hand lingering on you for too long. 

Clearing your throat, you nod and let Seungcheol take over balling up the wrapping paper. You’re not drunk but you feel the buzz of champagne and excitement as you hurry toward Seungcheol’s office at the far end, away from where everyone has gathered around Soonyoung’s cubicle to take shots. 

Inside of Seungcheol’s office is dark. The blinds are shuttered so no one can see from the main bullpen inward. Lights glitter beyond the floor to ceiling windows, the city awash in color underneath the light sky, giving the illusion that the world is blanketed in Christmas lights. 

A heavy desk sits in the far side of the room with towering bookshelves behind it. Seungcheol’s monitor is off and his leather chair is pushed into the desk. In front of the desk is a sitting area, equipped with a full leather sofa, glass coffee table, and two arm chairs. 

You go for the sofa, hands shaking as you sit down, pressing the hem of your skirt down your thighs. Swallowing thickly, your eyes dart toward the door when you hear the volume of singing suddenly increase out in the main office. You grin, shaking your head when you realize it’s because Seungkwan has figured out how to use his portable karaoke machine gifted to him by Jeonghan. 

Shadows pass by the window. You stiffen, leaning forward and placing your hands in your lap when Seungcheol opens the door, letting Chan enter first before he slips in after, flipping the lock. Chan immediately stops in his tracks, looking at you before his eyes dart back to Seungcheol. 

Your heart races, watching carefully as Seungcheol starts to undo his tie, slipping a finger underneath the knot to pull it, walking toward you. The action hypnotizes you, your attention solely on him as he finishes undoing it, tossing it onto an armchair before his fingers work the topmost button of his shirt loose.

He sees the nervous look on your face and he wings, his grin lopsided as he rounds the couch to stand behind you. 

“Take a seat,” Seungcheol tells Chan, his hand landing on your shoulder. You react instantly, leaning into the warmth of his hand, nuzzling his forearm a bit. Chan follows Seungcheol’s instructions, his steps slow and full of trepidation. “We don’t bite, Channie.” 

You huff and Seungcheol chuckles darkly in response, amending, “Usually.” 

Chan is the picture of anxiety, wringing his hands in his lap and looking up at Seungcheol through his glasses with wide eyes. His gaze darts to you only for a second before he licks his lips and looks back up at Seungcheol, shifting back and forth in the armchair as he watches the elder. 

“Relax,” Seungcheol laughs. “You’re not in trouble. I told you she had a second part to her gift.”

“The first one is too much,” Chan drops his gaze to you. He picks at his cuticles, showing he’s as nervous as you feel. “You shouldn’t have. The rules were no more than fifty dollars.”

“It was too good not to.” He softens. “I wanted you to have it.”

“You deserve it,” Seungcheol agrees. His hand massages your shoulder, fingers brushing across your skin. You shiver under his touch, watching Chan as his eyes zero in on where Seungcheol’s hand is on your neck. He licks his lips, shifting. “That’s not the only thing she wanted to give you, though.” 

Chan chews his bottom lip. You feel skittish, twisting your fingers in the hem of your dress. You and Seungcheol had broached this subject several times before, though this is the first time you’re committing to voicing your thoughts to Chan. 

Suddenly faced with having to give him your proposition, you’re terrified. What if he says no? Worse, what if you upset him or make him uncomfortable? It’s a huge risk, what you’re asking, especially with the position that Seungcheol is in as your boss. 

The weight of how bad of an idea this is hits you fully. You open and close your mouth, unable to voice your offer to him, the question dying on your tongue.

Seungcheol’s fingers are still on your shoulder. He leans down, tilting forward to catch your gaze with his. His eyes are dark and calm, a cool lake undisturbed by anything, a constant you can always look to when you’re afraid to do something. You root yourself in his gaze, letting his proximity wash over you, comforting. 

Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself this question isn’t coming out of nowhere. Neither you nor Seungcheol would bring Chan here to the office in the dark, away from everyone else if you weren’t borderline positive what his answer would be. 

“I wanted to um…” Your voice is hoarse, cracking with nervousness. You swallow, dropping your eyes into your lap, feeling both of their gazes. “Jeonghan said you kind of had a crush on us.” 

You peek up at Chan to find him white in the face. His mouth parts in horror and you realize this isn’t going the way you planned, your nervousness driving you to the wrong path. 

Seungcheol sees it too, giving you a gentle squeeze and telling Chan, “What she means, but is very bad at saying because she’s nervous, is that she wanted to give you a taste.” 

Silence hangs heavy in the air. Outside of Seungcheol’s office, you hear Mingyu singing All I Want for Christmas Is You. It feels apt, both you and Seungcheol staring at Chan as he looks back at both of you, mouth parted in surprise, chest rising and falling with how heavy he’s breathing now.

“I don’t… understand,” he says finally, addressing Seungcheol. 

“I think you do.” Chan starts to shake his head and Seungcheol tsks, sending a lick of heat down to your core. You know that voice better than anything, and the sound of it turns the air heady. “You can say no. This is the worst place possible for us to be offering this to you and I understand the implications of it coming from… well me. You’re under no obligation and we can go on pretending it didn’t happen.” 

“Jeonghan didn’t mean to tell me.” you tell Chan. “But when he did… I wasn’t mad. I told Cheol and he was pleased to.” You look up at Seungcheol, who smiles at you affectionately. His hand drifts to the back of your head, cradling it carefully. “He likes you too. And me - I like you.” 

“You like me?” 

You nod eagerly as Seungcheol grips your head and faces you back toward Chan. “So I was thinking… you could have an extra gift. If you wanted it. To see if you liked it.” 

“And what does… a taste involve?” Chan asks the question softly, his eyes flickering between you and Seungcheol. “Help me understand better.” 

“Her,” Seungcheol answers. “Whatever you want.” He pauses and smirks, adding, “You’re not ready for me. So just her… for now, if you want.”

Multiple emotions flit past Chan’s face. Confusion. Fear. Indecision. Anxiety. Desire. 

You see the desire there, the way he settles his eyes on you, dark and swimming with want. He doesn’t move, the silence filling the room as Seungcheol let’s Chan choose. You feel your own desire welling up inside of you, a shy and skittish thing that is perhaps too breakable to be offering this way. 

Chan is your mirror. You can see yourself in him, the want that lurks beneath a shallow surface, a fragile thing that he wants to handle but is too afraid that it’ll shatter. You lift a hand from your lap, reaching forward, palm up. Reaching for Chan, reaching for the thread that connected you since the first day he started. 

Your hand wavers there for a second, an invitation, a moment of vulnerability. Just when you think he’s going to reject you, Chan surges forward slowly, extending his hand toward yours. A smile lights up your face, growing even wider when his fingers tentatively skate over yours, rough and unsure. 

Tugging on him gently, you urge Chan from the armchair toward the couch. He’s like a frightened animal, eyes darting toward Seungcheol like he might intervene when he sits next to you, close enough to smell his juniper cologne but farther than you want him to be. 

Seungcheol lets go of your shoulder, walking around the opposite side of the couch. Chan looks at Seungcheol, alarm on his face. The elder chuckles roughly, sitting on your other side a little ways away and murmuring, “Relax, Channie. I’m just sitting down.” 

To further ease his anxiety, you pull Chan’s hand into your lap, lacing your fingers and squeezing. He looks at your linked fingers, marveling at them. It takes him a moment, but he squeezes your hand in return. 

“Can you look at me?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper. 

He does. Chan finally looks at you, gaze raw and burning. Your toes curl when you see the amount of want there, the way his need is right on the surface, simmering. His eyes trace your features, scanning your face to the curve of your neck, dipping lower, lips parted as he drinks you in full. 

“What… What now?” He asks, dragging his eyes back up to yours. 

“Try kissing her.” Seungcheol leans back behind you, supervising. His voice is gentle and coaxing. “She likes kissing.” 

Chan looks at you, asking for permission. You smile, nodding eagerly as you tug on his hand. He obeys, sliding closer to you, thigh pressed against yours. Even through the fabric of his pants, you can feel the heat of his leg wash through you, intoxicating. 

He leans in slowly, his eyes darting toward your mouth as he does. You meet him halfway, breath shaking as you softly press your lips against his. His lips are soft and tentative, nose brushing yours gently. You sigh, leaning into the kiss, making it a little firmer. 

It’s innocent, but you feel the way his fingers tighten in yours, a gentle sound stuck in the back of his throat. You pull away slightly, lashes fluttering open to peer at him. You see your half-lidded eyes in the reflection of his glasses until he opens his eyes.

The urge to have him grows tenfold. Chan’s pupils are blown, the hungry look in his eye raw and real. It makes you surge forward, kissing him for real, letting the hunger for him channel through your mouth. He makes a sound low in the back of his throat, desperate and whiny as you school closer, leg looping over his to keep him in place. 

Letting go of his hand, you bring it up to his face, threading your fingers through his hair. His mouth is warm and wet as he kisses you slowly, tasting of champagne and the frosting of the cupcake he had earlier - sweet, just like him. 

Kissing Chan is unlike kissing Seungcheol. Chan is sweet and slow, running his tongue against the seam of your mouth tentatively while his hands go to your thighs, barely giving you a squeeze. Seungcheol’s kisses are demanding and all consuming, bruising your lips as he swallows you whole. 

Parting, Chan kisses the corner of your mouth, hesitating and glancing over your shoulder where he can no doubt see Seungcheol. Seungcheol must reassure him, because Chan smirks and leans forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your jaw. 

Your head falls back, lips parted. His tongue is rough against your skin as he tastes you, a mix of tongue and teeth working toward your neck. Your fingers twist in his hair, blunt nails scraping at his scalp and making him groan quietly. 

“She likes when you bite her a little,” Seungcheol supplies from behind you. You feel the couch shift as he moves closer, his warmth radiating toward you as he settles directly behind you. His voice makes you shiver when he says, “Right under her ear - yeah like that.” 

Chan’s teeth nip at the soft flesh under your ear and you keen, melting at his touch. He grows more confident at the sound, his hands drifting to your waist, squeezing and holding you tight. You lean backward into the heat of Seungcheol, trapped between the two of them. 

It makes you dizzy. Seungcheol is firm behind you, keeping you pressed toward Chan, who is kissing his way to your shoulder, eager for more of you. One of his hands runs up your side, sliding up your arm until it settles on the side of your neck, his fingers gently pulling you to give more access. 

You keen and Seungcheol laughs behind you, muttering, “Hear the little sounds she makes? She loves when you touch her neck.” 

“Mmmm.” Chan presses kisses to the tops of your shoulders, looking up at you through his glasses. “What else does she like?” 

“If you want to see her come apart, eat her out.” Chan moans, burying his face in your neck. You shiver, feeling his hot breath against your spit-slick skin. “Yeah?” Seungcheol laughs. “Dying to taste her, huh?” 

“Fuck,” Chan whispers. He lifts his head from your neck, breathing ragged as he looks at you, cradling your face in his hands. 

You look up at him through your lashes, dazed. He looks so good in the dim light of Seungcheol’s office, his hair a little disheveled, glasses a little eskew. 

“Do you want that?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. His thumb brushes back and forth across your jaw, pausing to brush along the corner of your lip. You nod eagerly, unable to find the words and tell him that is exactly what you want. “Fuck. Yeah. Okay.” 

Chan sinks to the ground. Seungcheol plants his foot against the coffee table, pushing it back slowly to give Chan room. The younger looks up at you reverently and you feel your breath catch, watching as Chan settles on his knees, hands reaching to brush gently up your calves.

His touch is like fire. It feels too hot in Seungcheol’s office, sweat collecting on the back of your neck and along your hairline. You squeeze your thighs together at Chan’s gentle touch and he grins up at you, keeping his fingers feather light and teasing as he skims them up your thighs toward your dress. 

Seungcheol leans you against him, pressing his lips to the side of your temple. Chan leans forward, placing an open mouth kiss on your knee. You twitch, knee nearly knocking him in the face. Seungcheol admonishes you softly, reaching down to pry your right leg open and drape it over his, resting his arm over your knee to keep you pried open.

Chan’s hands continue to caress your skin, the drag of his fingers driving you wild. You stare down at him, panting slightly as he looks up at you. He maintains eye contact as he drags his mouth to kiss your inner thigh, watching as you react with a sigh. 

He moves his mouth upward slowly, each kiss firm but gentle, his lips blazing a trail upward. You feel your core ache for him, a hot, throbbing need that makes you whine a little bit, shifting in Seungcheol’s grip. 

Chan pauses but Seungcheol promises, “She’s fine. She’s very needy.” 

A grin splits Chan’s face as he presses another kiss to the softness of your thigh, followed by biting gently. That gets a reaction out of you, your hips twitching upward and your hands shooting to grip the couch with one hand and Seungcheol’s forearm with the other. 

“She loves when you start slow,” Seungcheol murmurs. Chan nods, taking his elder’s guidance in step. His hands creep toward the hem of your dress, hesitating. “Go ahead.” 

Your breath gets stuck in your throat when Chan pushes the hem of your dress upward. The newly exposed skin feels cold in Seungcheol’s darkened office. Chan bunches the fabric at your hips and Seungcheol reaches around the back of your waist to hold it in place. 

With one hand on your spread knee and the other locked around your waist, Seungcheol has you pinned. The thought makes your eyes flutter, head tilting back as you watch Chan drink you in, his eyes dropping to the lacy underwear.

His mouth resumes its curious travel, kissing the tops of your thighs as his fingers brush the edges of your underwear. You let out a breathy whine and he smiles but doesn’t stop this time, teasing the crease of your thighs with his devilish finger while he gives a harsh suck to your skin. 

Chan rests his chin atop your thigh, eyes focusing on the wet patch of your under. He dips a hand between your legs, pressing the flat of his thumb against the dark spot on the fabric. You give a high pitched whine, fidgeting in Seungcheol’s grip. Chan grins, wiggling his thumb back and forth a little to apply pressure to your clit.

It is heaven. It is hell. Chan’s eyes drift back and forth from where he teases you to your face, unable to decide which he likes watching more. Seungcheol watches him with a smirk, his hold on you like iron, hot breath fanning your ear as he whispers for you to behave for Chan. 

You want to. You want to more than anything else right now, completely forgetting about the party going on outside the office, forgetting the way you’d been afraid to ask Chan if he wants this, forgetting anything else but the look in Chan’s eyes as he hooks his fingers in your underwear and pulls them down.

Lacy fabric scrapes down your skin slow-soft. It is delicious torture. Chan handles you like you’re something precious, something to be loved and treated with care. Your thoughts turn to static, totally hypnotized by the way he peels your underwear from your legs and tosses them somewhere else. His eyes are half-lidded as he stares at your glistening cunt, groaning low in the back of his throat at what he sees. 

Chan slides his hands under your thighs, dragging you toward him a little. Seungcheol helps, peppering your face with butterfly-soft kisses as he slides you down the couch. You’re nearly folded in half as Seungcheol adjusts himself so that he’s sitting behind you with you between his legs. He grabs your thighs, hooking them on the outer edges of his knees to keep you open for Chan, who slides closer, licking his lips. 

“Look how wet she is for you,” Seungcheol purrs. You glance up at him. His dark eyes are focused on Chan, mouth twitching in a smirk. “Start slow. She likes you to build up to it.” 

Chan glances at Seungcheol and nods before his eyes fall to you. Dark. Hungry. Wanting. To see your deepest desire reflected in Chan’s eyes makes you insane. You’d only guessed at his affection for you and Seungcheol, but the fierceness of it drives you wild. 

So does his mouth. Chan drags his mouth up your thighs, kissing delicately. You hold your breath, fixated on him as he audibly plants another kiss before he moves to your center, hesitating. You try not to squirm and move closer, try not to force yourself on his mouth.

He can tell. He gives you a cock grin, letting out a huff before dipping forward, running his tongue up your center and oh oh oh. Your head falls back against Seungcheol’s shoulder, breath locked in your chest. Chan’s tongue is warm and wet, sliding up and down your pussy at a leisurely pace.

Then he moans. Your fingers dig into Seungcheol’s thighs, making him hiss. He hooks his chin on your shoulder, watching as Chan’s tongue circles your aching clit slowly before dipping back down. 

You’re burning, melting, disintegrating. Pleasure ripples through you when Chan dips his tongue tentatively into your clenching hole. That earns a loud moan from you. Seungcheol quickly hushes you, reminding you that you can’t be loud with a harsh whisper. 

A whimper falls from your lips. Chan grunts, closing his eyes as he fastens his mouth to your cunt, suckling gently. You throb under his mouth. He looks up at you, eyes misty as he flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit. 

“Like that,” Seungcheol encourages when you thrash. “She likes it kind of messy too - spit on it.” 

Chan is obedient. He dips his tongue into your cunt, gathering arousal before he lifts his mouth, smeared in your slick, and spits directly on your pussy. You let out a loud sound that is cut off by Seungcheol’s mouth on yours, stealing you in a devouring kiss. 

One hand shoots to Seungcheol’s forearm to cling to him, the other to Chan’s hair when he reattaches his mouth. He moans audibly against you, the sound buzzing right through you to the pit of your stomach. He redoubles his effort, licking and sucking at you vigorously now to match the pace of Seungcheol’s tongue. 

They both swallow you whole. It’s overwhelming the best way, Seungcheol pressing you into his chest as he steals the breath from your lungs, Chan pressing your legs further apart as he buries his face between your legs, little sounds of pleasure dripping from his mouth as he loses himself in you. 

Seungcheol parts with you for a moment, lips swollen and pink as he looks down at Chan and grins. He reaches down, running his fingers through Chan’s hair gently, making the younger groan. 

“Look at him,” Seungcheol coos. “He’s been dying to taste you, huh Chan?” 

“Mhmm.” Chan licks a hard stripe from top to bottom. “So fucking good.”

“Tell him how good he’s doing baby,” Seungcheol whispers, pressing his mouth to your ear. “He’s working so hard for you.” 

“Feels so good,” you gasp as Chan sucks your clit hard. You thrash in Seungcheol’s lap but he holds you still. Chan pins you down too, fingers gripping your thighs as he gets greedier, flattening his tongue and whipping his head back and forth. “Fuck fuck fuck - Chan.” 

“Just like that, Chan.” Seungcheol keeps running his fingers through Chan’s hair affectionately. “She’s gonna come for you, right baby?” 

All you can manage is a nod. You’re beyond the capacity for words, feeling your orgasm twist low in your stomach as Chan works your toward its peak. It feels like he drags you there screaming, the pressure building as he keeps going and going and going-

You break. Seungcheol’s hand clamps over your mouth and you cry through his palm, hips twitching and legs straining against both of their hands as you cum hard. Chan doesn’t care, pressing even further, drinking you in as your clit pulses in his mouth. 

When you quiet down, Seungcheol lets go of your mouth, hushing you with soft kisses as you whimper. Chan’s tongue busies itself as he leisurely licks your thighs, catching stray drops of arousal. You sag against your boyfriend, panting. He rubs his hands up and down your aching thighs. 

“More,” Chan murmurs, words a little slurred as he presses a sloppy kiss to your thigh. He inches closer to your messy folds, hesitating. “Can you take more? Please tell me you can.”

You nod and Seungcheol hums, pleased. “She can.” 

Looking between your legs, you watch as Chan grabs his glasses and rips them off his face, tossing them somewhere behind him. Your stomach flips at the site, lips parted and gasping when he dives back in, fucking you with his tongue. 

“Shit,” you squeak, hands flying to his hair, wrapping your fingers in his locks and twisting. He doesn’t mind the sting, too focused on you. “Oh my god.”

Seungcheol chuckles darkly. “Fuck, he’s hot. Use your fingers, Channie.” 

Nodding eagerly, Chan complies. He’s eager to comply, bringing a hand up between your legs. You hiss when he slides a finger in, the glide easy from your first orgasm. He removes his mouth from you, panting and lips swollen as his eyes focus on where he gently fucks you with his finger. 

“Another,” Seungcheol recommends. 

Chan does. He slides another finger in, tilting his wrist so that they brush just right. You moan his name, throaty and worn. Chan hums happily, kissing his way back up to your clit where he wraps his lips, sucking gently as he sets a slow pace with his fingers. 

It only lasts for a few moments before his pace increases, feeling the way you squeeze tight around him, hearing the way your breath turns shaky and uneven, watching the way you continue to grow slick with sweat. 

He fixates on your face, sucking at you hungrily in time with his fingers, driving you toward another release. Seungcheol’s mouth finds your jaw, teeth nipping and tongue soothing. Again you’re pulled between the two of them, feeling stretched thin and overwhelmed by their mouths.

“I’m gonna,” You gasp, shaking in their grip. They both can tell. Seungcheol bites your neck a little harder, sucking the soft skin between his teeth. Chan turns ravenous, nearly folding you in half as he pushes into you, the wet sounds from his mouth bracketed by your heavy breathing. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

Every muscle in your body squeezes with the force of your orgasm. You can’t breathe, stars exploding behind squeezed-shut lids, breath stuck in squeezed-tight lungs. You’re barely able to hear Seungcheol murmuring in your ear, only able to hear the high-pitched ringing as you hit the top of your high, suspended for a moment before you start to come down.

You go boneless against Seungcheol. You feel spent, sucking in breaths of air while Seungcheol rubs his hands up and down your arms and Chan presses butterfly-soft kisses to your inner thighs, his hands rubbing your calves. 

The three of you stay there like that for a bit, quiet in the dark of Seungcheol’s office with the distant singing of your coworkers. You feel a bit floaty and dreamy, stuck somewhere between nearly asleep and happily present. 

Chan shifts and you drop your eyes to him, seeing him looking around, a little unsure what to do. You and Seungcheol notice at the same time, both of you extending a hand to him. Chan’s smile is shy and tentative, taking both of your hands and letting you pull him to his feet to collapse on the couch next to you.

Immediately you squirm toward him, half falling out of Seungcheol’s lap to fall against Chan’s shoulder. He laughs, lifting his arms and hesitating for a second before he wraps them around you. His lips are pink and swollen, still covered in your arousal. 

“That,” you sigh. “Was better than I imagined.”

“You imagined it, though?” he asks, glancing at Seungcheol. “Both of you?”

“Mhmm.” Seungcheol leans forward and presses a kiss to the corner of Chan’s mouth, pink tongue darting out playfully. “Mmm. She tastes good.” 

Pink creeps up Chan’s neck and flushes his face. Seungcheol grins and you can tell he’s just as smitten as you, leaning his head against the back of the couch to watch Chan settle down. He drags his fingers in patterns on your arm, eyes losing focus. 

“Was this just for tonight?” Chan asks. There’s a note in his voice that makes you look up at him. You can tell he’s unsure, a little nervous. “Just for giving season or whatever?” 

Your voice is raspy with disuse. “Not if you don’t want it to be. Cheolie and I like you.” 

“Really?”

You lift a hand, brushing strands of hair back into his damp hairline. “Mhm. We want to keep you, if you’ll have us.” 

Chan chews on his bottom lip, contemplating. Seungcheol watches in silence, but you can tell by the way his fingers drum on your thigh that he’s nervous. He might exude calm and confident most of the time, but you know he hopes Chan will say yes - that he’s desperate for it. 

“I think I like that,” Chan says slowly, looking at you both. “I would like that, yeah.” 

Seungcheol grins, closing his eyes as he reaches over and runs a hand through Chan’s hair. “Good. Also - it’s always giving season at our house. So buckle up, Channie.” 

TAG LIST: @ddaddunugu @ourkivee @tie-nn @cookiearmy @thesunsfullmoon @stray-bi-kids @ldysmfrst @thepoopdokyeomtouched @avochele @eoieopda @onlywon4u @hopeless-foolery @iamawkwardandshy @gyuguys @codeinebelle @ateez-atiny380

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[mrsarnold]

im begging for another sevika fic for the advent thingy PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEEE IDC WHICH PROMPT JUST PLEASE

021. underneath the tree ! . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

syn : decorating with sevika

pair : sevika x fem!reader

warn : fluffy fluff, mix of two prompts

note ; muhahah

It’s a chilly evening in Zaun, and the dim lights of your shared apartment cast a warm glow across the room. The faint sound of holiday music plays in the background as you string up garlands and fairy lights, much to Sevika’s chagrin. She leans against the wall, arms crossed, an unimpressed look etched into her face.

“Do we really need all this?” Sevika mutters, eyeing the glittery decorations with mild disdain.

You pause, hands still tangled in the string of lights. “Oh, don’t be such a grinch,” you tease, shooting her a playful grin.

Sevika lets out a deep sigh, her expression unchanging. “I knew you were going to say that.”

“Of course, I was going to say that. Look at you,” you say, gesturing dramatically to her sulking figure. “You’re standing there with that pouty face, acting like this is torture. It’s festive, Sev. You could at least try to enjoy it.”

“I’m not pouting,” she grumbles, shifting her weight. “And I’m not a grinch. I just don’t see the point in all this… fluff.”

You roll your eyes, setting the lights aside as you approach her. Placing your hands on her shoulders, you force her to look down at you. “The point is to have fun. To make this place feel cozy and… I don’t know, cheerful. Zaun’s dark enough without your brooding adding to it.”

Her lips twitch like she’s trying to hold back a smirk. “Cheerful, huh? You think stringing up lights and hanging garlands is going to make me cheerful?”

“It’s a start,” you reply, leaning up to press a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Besides, if you help me finish, I’ll make your favorite hot chocolate after. Extra marshmallows.”

That earns a small huff of laughter from Sevika. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

Sevika shakes her head, the faintest smile breaking through her tough exterior. “Fine. But if I step on one of these damn ornaments, it’s on you.”

“Deal,” you say, dragging her toward the pile of decorations. “Now grab those baubles and start helping. And try to look like you’re having fun.”

Sevika groans but picks up a garland, muttering something under her breath about how you’re lucky she puts up with this. But the way her eyes soften as she watches you laugh and hum along to the music tells you that maybe, just maybe, she’s not as grinchy as she pretends to be.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

”Hey, Coach! Wait up!”

Roy purposefully did not wait up, but kept striding down the corridor away from the festivities slowly dying down in the dressing room as the players prepared to head on to whatever celebrations they’d got lined up for the afternoon. Part of Roy still thought that half a day off for Christmas was disturbingly generous, but another part of him – one that had spent quite a lot of time in Dr. Sharon’s office these past few months – had to admit that the mini break seemed to bring a welcome energy boost to everyone, including the player who didn’t actually do Christmas.

He’d almost made it to the exit when Jamie caught up with him, throwing his gaffer a reproachful look as he pushed a stray stand of hair out of his eyes. “Jesus, Roy,” he complained. “Who died and made you the Grinch? Wouldn’t have fucking killed you to stand still for two seconds.”

“My sister’s working, and I promised I’d pick Phoebe up by two.” To be fair, it was only gone half twelve and he wasn’t in a rush, but making Jamie run was its own reward.

“Ah, yeah, yeah, okay.” Jamie nodded, falling into step as Roy pushed the door open and headed out into the windy December day.

When he didn’t immediately follow that up with anything else, Roy gave him an annoyed glare that was almost entirely sincere. “Did you fucking want something?” he asked meaningfully.

Jamie’s eyebrows shot up, as if he’d legitimately forgotten about his errand and was content to just enjoy Roy’s company (a notion that, while no longer quite new, still occasionally hit Roy as a football to the face, leaving him feeling all sorts of strange). ”Oh, right,” Jamie said. “Yeah. Mum and Simon’s come down since I can’t go home ‘cause of the game tomorrow, and Simon’s going to be making enough food for, like, half the team, so… ”

“So what?” Roy demanded, not so much because he didn’t get what Jamie was getting at – he wasn’t that thick – but to buy himself a second to process the whole thing. Also, image.

Jamie shrugged, as always undeterred by Roy’s barking. “I dunno. Maybe you bring Phoebe over to my place. Have dinner with us.” He grinned, clearly enjoying whatever faces Roy was making. “Mummy insisted. Said it’d be rude not to invite me best friend.”

“I’m not your best friend.”

“Yeah, I know, mate. You’re not mine either. But as I said, Mum insisted.” He smiled again, just as widely and wickedly, but for a fleeting moment, there was a trace of uncertainty in his grey eyes. “C’mon. You know Mum and Phoebe will get on like a house on fire.”

Roy could imagine it only too well. Between them and Jamie, he had a feeling he’d be outmanoeuvred at every turn.

Oddly enough, the notion wasn’t quite as unappealing as it ought to have been. And it’d probably help take Phoebe’s mind off having to spend yet another Christmas Day without her own mother.

“I’ll ask Phoebe,” he hedged. Partly because it really was the decent thing to do, not dragging her off to somewhere on Christmas Day without her agreeing to it, and partly because it meant he could safely blame her if they ended up going.

“Mint.” Jamie smiled, pleased. “Keeley’s coming, too.”

“What?” Roy’s eyes snapped to his face. “You could have fucking led with that.”

“Nah. Wanted to make sure you said yes for me and not for her, yeah?”

“You’re an idiot,” Roy told him. “And I haven’t said yes yet.”

Jamie made a thoughtful face. “Who’s the more idiotic, the idiot or the one who spends his Christmas with the idiot?” he pondered aloud, and then – completely ignoring Roy’s second point – added, “See you later, Coach. Mum said not to bring anything, but she likes them half-sweet wines from Germany, yeah?”

And before Roy had time to repeat that he hadn’t actually agreed to come, you muppet, Jamie had sauntered over to his own car, looking so happy it made Roy’s heart do weird fucking things.

Oh, well, Roy thought, getting into this own care turning the ignition on. He’d pass by a Sainsbury on the way from to Jamie’s place that ought to be open for another few hours yet. He could pick up a couple of bottles of Rieslings there.

[cuddlepilefics]

Mulled wine

Fandom: Seventeen

Sickie: Mingyu

Caregiver: Jihoon

@12daysofchristmas DAY4

Mulled wine

Playing board games

„I have no regrets“

„Cheer up, dude. It’s Christmas.“ – How the Grinch Stole Christmas, 2000

@hurtcember : 10 touch aversion, alt3 leave me alone

@whumpcember : 20 please leave

TW: alcohol, emeto

No one’s POV.:

While Jihoon enjoyed celebrating Christmas, he could not get behind company Christmas dinners though he did attend them. Not that he had a choice. He didn’t understand why the members felt like they had to have their own group celebration just two days later. It wasn’t even Christmas yet. Not feeling like playing along, Jihoon retreated to his studio to get some work done. To be entirely honest, he was a little overwhelmed by all the events and having to pretend to be joyful when really he was just tired and new how much work was piling up while he had to pretend it wasn’t. He didn’t exactly know what the members had planned for their party because he already knew he wouldn’t be joining but he had heard board games and hot drinks being mentioned. Well, at least they’d be having fun right?

“Do you think this is enough mulled wine, hyung?”, Mingyu asked as he stirred the large pots on the stove, occasionally taking a sip from his cup. Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo frowned: “Not if you keep drinking it before the others get here.” – “Shut up, hyung. You know I’m nervous. Let me have some liquid courage”, the younger whined, making Wonwoo laugh: “I’m still telling you, it’s a bad idea.” – “What is?”, Jeonghan piped in, startling the other two. Mingyu almost spilled his mulled wine on himself and groaned while Wonwoo chuckled: “He wants to drag Jihoon out of his studio to join us.” – “Jihoon? Board games? And mulled wine?”, Jeonghan repeated doubtfully. “Oh come on, hyung. Not you too. Please let me just go through with my mission without telling me it’d be impossible. Do you really want Jihoon-hyung hiding away be himself while the rest of us is having fun? That wouldn’t be fair, right?”, Mingyu complained as he finished off the last sip. Breaking into a wide smile, Jeonghan helped him fill some of the mulled wine into a thermos, so he could take it to the studio along with two cups. Getting Jihoon to join them seemed like an impossible task nut Jeonghan really hoped his dongsaeng would succeed. Their friend should be excluded from the celebration.

“Who’s there?”, Jihoon called when a knock interrupted his work. “Mingyu”, the other replied, hand already resting on the door handle. Burying his face in his hands, Jihoon groaned: “Please leave.” – “Cheer up, dude. It’s Christmas!”, Mingyu laughed as he let himself into the studio. “No, technically, it is not”, the older argued, spinning his chair around to face his friend, “Didn’t I tell you to leave? Leave me alone.” – “I will but you’ll have to drink a mulled wine with me first”, Mingyu giggled, already pouring two cups. Not really feeling like he’d much done if his head was feeling swimmy, Jihoon tried to turn it down but it was either drink or have his dongsaeng bother him for the rest of the evening. He shook his head and glared: “I already told you, I’m not going to party with you guys.” – “Hyung, I’m not asking you to”, Mingyu reminded, “If I was going to force you to join, I would’ve long since thrown you over my shoulder and simply carried you there. A hot drink together is all I’m asking. If you like it, you can join us for more, if not, I’ll just leave.”

Though Jihoon doubted that statement, he accepted the steaming cup and leant back in his seat while Mingyu settled on the couch. Thank goodness, he could finally sit. His head was spinning a little already. Maybe he should’ve listened to Wonwoo and not ‘tried’ their mulled wine so many times. It had ended up pretty strong after all. Well, that’d help get Jihoon away from his work, the faster he got tipsy, the better. “Oh, that’s strong”, the older muttered after his first sip, “I still got stuff to do after that, you know.” If Mingyu had a say in it, no he did not have stuff to do. Feeling bold, he dragged Jihoon to sit on the couch next to him though the producer didn’t seem too pleased and still tried to keep the skinship as minimal as possible. Why had his dongsaeng become so bothersome today and couldn’t just enjoy partying with the rest of the group, deciding to pester the one member who didn’t want to join?

Feeling increasingly woozy, Mingyu slumped into Jihoon’s side and pouted: “You gotta come too, hyung. It won’t be a group celebration if someone is missing.” The producer got back to his feet, the touch of his overgrown friend against his side too much for him. Only when he was standing in front of Mingyu, did he notice the blush across the other’s nose and cheeks. “How much of this mulled wine did you have?”, he frowned as he placed his own cup on the desk, “You’re not gonna win any of those board games you told me about if you’re too drunk to notice Jeonghan-hyung cheating?” – “Only did the taste testing under Wonwoo-hyung’s supervision.” – “And what did he say about that?”, Jihoon pressed, cupping Mingyu’s cheek to look at his glossy eyes. Innocently staring up at the older, Mingyu mumbled: “That it’s a bad idea.” – “What is?” – “Getting you drunk, so you’ll join our Christmas party”, the younger explained, shocking Jihoon with his honesty.

With a stunned laugh, Jihoon informed: “Nice try but the only one you got drunk is yourself.” He knew he should probably be upset at being played like that, yet the way his dongsaeng had failed was just too entertaining for him to be mad. “I can feel that. I’m woozy”, Mingyu whined, rubbing his face. Shaking his head Jihoon laughed: “No, I’m Woozi. Look, you even succeeded in keeping me from my work because I gotta take your drunk ass home now.” The younger may have cheered if he didn’t suddenly feel like he was suffocating in the stuffy studio. Jihoon noticed him growing quiet and studied his paling face. “You okay?”, the producer asked, earning a wince. Drawing a shaky breath, Mingyu frowned: “Don’t feel so good anymore.”

No sooner than Jihoon had thrust the trashcan into Mingyu’s hands, did the other start gagging. The wine didn’t taste nearly as good the second time, but Mingyu couldn’t dwell on it, too focused on trying to keep his balance. Who was he kidding though, he would’ve totally tipped over if it hadn’t been for Jihoon holding onto his shoulders. “Seriously, how much did you have?”, the older frowned, stunned at the force that Mingyu pitched forward with. His dongsaeng tried to say something but was cut off by another large wave that gushed up his throat. Hiccupping nauseously, Mingyu muttered: “Dunno. Didn’t pay attention.” – “And why did you drink this much before the party even started?”, Jihoon hummed, rubbing the other’s back as he retched. “Nerves.” Now, the producer was truly surprised. What would Mingyu be nervous about?

Since his friend didn’t seem like he wanted to elaborate, Jihoon handed him some water and asked: “Do you think you’re done? We should get you home.” Mingyu nodded and shakily placed the trashcan on the floor, resting his head in his hands instead. This had so not gone to plan. His head still spun and he felt hot all over. It was a challenge for Jihoon to get the coat back onto his dongsaeng, who insisted it was too warm to wear it and who had also lost all coordinative skills he had previously owned. “It’s minus five degrees out there. You’re going to put on this coat or so help me…”, the older warned, making Mingyu laugh. Glancing up at Jihoon with glossy eyes, Mingyu chuckled: “What are you gonna do?” Oh dear, that had not been the kind of brave he had intended to be. “Don’t make me call S.Coups-hyung”, the older stated coldly, throwing the coat at Mingyu one last time, who silently put it on, aware that he had probably taken it too far.

Getting Mingyu back to his dorm was a completely different challenge and Jihoon could only hope nobody saw how he tried to steer his tall dongsaeng to walk in a straight line or how the younger threw up into a storm drain only one block before they reached their destination. “Oh wow, I didn’t think he’d actually succeed”, Jeonghan gasped when the pair entered the dorm. His surprised smile soon faltered though when he noticed the state Mingyu was in. Rolling his eyes, Jihoon informed: “It was a success but at what cost? Can’t believe you were in on it though, hyung.” The older sheepishly mumbled an apology before helping Jihoon maneuver Mingyu to the bathroom.

Mingyu sluggishly brushed his teeth and changed into the outfit Wonwoo picked out for him They were ready to put him to bed but Mingyu insisted: “Can’t go to sleep now that I finally got hyung here.” – “Seriously, anyone could beat you at a board game right now”, Jeonghan informed. Shooting the older a look, Jihoon reminded: “Only because you cheat.” – “I mean, I can at least watch but you gotta beat his ass at that game”, Mingyu pouted at Jihoon, who laughed and agreed. He’d do his best to try and beat Jeonghan.

Since Mingyu had some difficulty staying upright, they decided to play at the coffee table instead of the dining table, so he could sit in the couch next to Jihoon. The older was not too happy about the way Mingyu was half-draped over him, whining: “Why you gotta be so touchy?!” He didn’t push the younger off though, only groaning when he smiled: “I have no regrets.”

[bamnamuu]

ONE TICKET, PLEASE ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ S.JY

8. blueberry pajamas

WARNINGS ! mentions of murdering someone, yoona and y/n have an encounter (nothing too serious just name calling), lmk if you find anything else!

(kinda proof read! enjoy!!!!)

After hitting the send button Jake jumped out of his spot on the couch to go to his car, he knew how awful Yoona could be he just didn’t understand how she could be that awful to y/n. Sure he only had gotten close to her over the last month, but there wasn’t anything bad about her. She was sweet and nice. She agreed to be his fake girlfriend for crying out loud! 

"Where are you going?" Jake stopped in his spot, he’s been so concerned about y/n that he forgot he was hanging out with Heeseung.

 "Ohhhhhhhhh i-..” Jake didn’t know what exactly to say, I mean where was he going, y/n wasn’t hurt or anything. “To go see y/n,” Jake said looking at Heeseung, who was just staring at him confused. 

“Oh just go lover boy, we can finish the game some other time,” Heeseung said, rolling his eyes and going on his phone, with that Jake sprinted to his car and his mind went blank. He miraculously managed to make it to Y/n’s house without getting pulled over and somehow got some flowers for her. Ringing the doorbell Jake heard the sound of someone walking to the door, he was met by a teary-eyed y/n without a second thought Jake reached out and pulled her in for a hug, he didn't need to know what happened to know he caused this mess.

''Picture this I'm sitting at the beach with Yunjin and Lily, and all of a sudden yoona comes up to me and starts yelling at me, like full-on screaming at me. Saying how I'm a 'Boyfriend stealer' calling me a slut and stuff,'' taking a pause to let out a soft laugh. ''I just stood there frozen until she shook me trying to get a response I guess. lily and Yunjin pushed her away before she could do worse!'' y/n spoke wiping off her leftover tears, as she tried to make her story sound like a funny one and not a tragic one.

“Oh y/n I’m so sorry this happened to you,” he said stroking her head

“It’s not your fault Jake” y/n pulled away from his chest to look at his eyes, shaking his head Jake replied.

“But it is! I shouldn’t have asked you to be my fake girlfriend knowing that Yoona is awful and capable of ruining lives. So this IS my fault.” he pulled away from y/n and looked at her, about to say something else but she lifted her hand to stop him 

“Jake stop apologizing for something you didn’t do! it’s not you’re fault.” she continued “Plus I’m kinda over it now.” she said sincerely

 “But you were crying when I got here?” she just blinked at the boy.

“Ohhhh that, yeah ha I was watching Wall-E!” Jake started to laugh relieved that y/n was okay and that she didn’t hate him. I mean there's no time than the present Jake thought. 

"Hey y/n, I know we’re fake dating, but how would you like it if we went on just an ‘us’ date?’’

Y/n stared at the boy confused, "What does an ‘us’ date entail?’

Jake smiled and said "It's just us hanging out solely for us, not for anyone else to look at, so?’’ Jake finished his question waiting for the girl to reply. 

"I think that sounds lovely, I would love to go on a ‘us’ date!’’ she beamed up at him and Jake swore he felt his heart grow like the Grinch on Christmas. After making sure she was 100% okay (and finally giving her the flowers) Jake left the girl in blueberry pajamas and told her he would text her the time he’ll pick her up tomorrow since it's the last day they both have off this week. He doesn't know if he could wait any longer than to be with y/n, just them, not acting for anyone else. Not that Jake was necessarily acting when he was with her. 

————

'Baby by Justin Bieber' was blasting from Jake's phone waking him up from his much-needed slumber, he forgot that Beomgyu and Kai had changed his alarm sound. Oh boy, he sure was going to get them back for that when he realized they set his alarm to 6am. Deciding he is not going to start his day off by murdering his friends, he gets out of bed and prepares for the day ahead of him.

~~~

prev / next

authors note: hehhehehhe i’m alive and so is this fic, i can’t believe i didn’t forget about it! thank you for bearing with me through most of this year it’s very appreciated!!!! i’ve have a rough couple months, but i’ll spare you the details, this chapter was extremely long so i split it into two and i’ll get the next part out later!!! but yeah im kinda back !!!!!! im also still trying to figure out how i want to organize this series rn so if you see a lot of changes pay no mind!!!!

Synopsis: Y/N and her friends all wind up working at the same amusement park for the entire summer. It just so happens that her longtime crush, Jake Sim, is working at the same park with his friends. Unfortunately for Jake, his ex-girlfriend Yoona has planned to make her way back into his life, so his friends bring up the idea of having a fake girlfriend so that Yoona will leave him alone, and his eyes just so happen to land on the girl in the ticketing booth.

🏷️ taglist (open!) @mrchweeee @tumblemumblr @miumiuoi @ghostiiess @haechansbbg

(pssst you can ask to be added!!! :p)

[somenamewithepineapple]

✨G’day, mate! It’s ya buddy, HEX anon again!✨

Thank you for your amazin’ reply to my previous message. Am I right to believe that Silrah being (like) a married couple is your headcanon as well as how you view their relationship? I kind of put two questions in one but got one answer for those, so I’m not entirely sure I understood that correctly 😅.

Now, I got some new questions for ya:

Could you tell me your top 3 in fic genres?

Would you prefer a fic with just Farah and Saul, or could I potentially add some side characters? If I can, are there any you wouldn't want in there?

What are your feelings about Farah’s nap? Are you a “fixing it with a resurrection” gal, or a “she’s been alive all this time” gal?

How do you think Christmas is celebrated in the Other World? Is it still called Christmas? And which member of our beloved Silrah pair would be most likely to act like a Scrooge? Or would neither of them?

Please be as elaborate as you'd like, I’m here to get to know you and figure out what would be the best present for you, so I need all the information I can get! Give me aaaaall the brain rot, don’t hold back 😀

Just for fun: Tea or coffee? Fairy lights or candles? Paper book or ebook?

See ya! Yeehaw! 🤠

I see someone is checking the event channel on discord. Blink twice if you're currently online :D

Yes. you're right. I mean I also did give one answer to two questions so I'd say I definitely see their relationship in the show as something like a soulmate bond (ugh this is so cheesy but whatever) and my headcanon would be that while they're not married, they basically have been behaving like a married couple for the last 30 or so years. They themselves probably don't even know if they're married or not because you know it's been so long and who knows what they signed when they got drunk at the campfire together? They certainly don't.

My top 3 are: (no particular order btw, I don't have a favourite child)

Enemies to Lovers babey whoohooo (is that a genre? I don't think so but I am also known for interpreting questions however the fuck I want so I'm sorry for misinterpreting your question to tell everyone how much I love this kind of fanfic lol)

AUs (the possibilities as well as the "I will love you in every life" gooooodness how beautiful is this? Am I right??)

Angst (but not the sad ending please don't kill anyone it's Christmas!!! however I'm always in for some drama and I'm 1000% certain Farah tried to hide all her severe injuries from Saul because there were more important matters according to her which resulted in Saul trying to gently tell her that a stab wound is in fact a matter of importance)

You can totally add however many side characters you want as long as it is not Dane (who the fuck is Dane anyway?)

Farah's nap... honestly I can do both, although I'd rather lean towards "She's been alive all along" because I refuse to believe in stupid/boring deaths. Also S2-Saul's non-reaction supports my theory

I know I know Christmas is a first-world holiday but what about mulled wine and fairy lights and christmas trees? So while I think they probably don't celebrate Christmas (or maybe became a thing some years ago) I always pictured the otherworld having some sort of winter solstice and new year's celebration with loads of cringe family dinners and gift-panicking and kissing under the mistletoe. What should I say, I'm a romantic. And speaking of romantics, I can picture Farah as an accidental Scrooge-Grinch but without the "messing up the holiday for everyone else" part. Of course our dear Saul would make it his mission to make her enjoy the days.

I hope my brain rot was helpful!

And:

Tea and coffee, depending on my mood and sometimes both at once

Fairy lights probably, mostly because I don't have to get a lighter for them but I want both on my Christmas tree! Because real candles are the real deal!

Paper books 100% except for when I'm travelling because that's when ebooks are more convenient.

Hasta the next time, HEX anon 😊☄️

[rel124c41]

2, 4, 5, 11, and 33 please! Hope that isn’t too much, very curious about your answers though!! Happy early birthday btw :D

ah thank you very much for the birthday wishes (≧∀≦) getting a drum set tomorrow and i’m so hyped bout it

& the amount of questions was perfecto!! i left my answers below the cut!!

(ask game)

2: How do you come up with your plot ideas?

8/10 times, my plot ideas come from my fabulous, otherworldly, superior music taste ᕦ(ò_óˇ)!!

nah but to be serious, music and creating AMVs in my head works brilliantly for creating plots. i listen to music A LOT. i do not always construct a story based on a song but my ideas flow easier when there is a melody in the air. snippet of scenes come and go, and i scribble them down; music powers the whole process of my writing.

additionally, i think coming up with plot ideas/to strength that part of your brain to be creative and original, one should always read MORE. to lazily siphon off a Stephen King quote i can’t find: “a great writer knows to read” and then there is the 1/10, where an idea hits me, completely uninspired from anything. 

but really, when coming up with plots remember this saying: no one can reinvent the wheel!

4: How do you channel characters’ voices and personalities?

studying the source material is always my go-to for channeling a character. 

have not played twst in 2 yrs 💀 (bc i was on an expedition for different video games and discovered i hated rhythm games) but i always use @/yuurei20 like a study guide for the characters. and i read the translations for each event (birthdays or otherwise) to see how the characters act at different situations

and if a character has done something out-character in canon, i analyze the shit out of that. it’s really important to me when writing already canon characters to think of this one question: what’s their drive/goal (in everyday & in specific situations & in long-term)?

5: What techniques do you use to create believable dialogue?

one of my biggest insecurities in specifically the “fanfiction” writing realm is my dialogue so this question is crazzzy to me. believable dialogue?? hasn’t happened!

i still don’t think i’ve done it successfully even once, so techniques? god i really don’t have any. here’s me talking out my ass tho: 

certain characters have certain mannerisms in how they talk: those i can pick up upon bc some characters it’s black and white how they go about talking — floyd ain’t gonna sound all sophisticated u know. however, knowing how to structure what they are conveying, ah that is much harder for me. 

sorry for this dead-end answer 💀

11: Are there any tropes you particularly enjoy writing?

rubbing my hands together and grinning like the fucking grinch at this,, let’s fucking goooooo! 

1: unreliable narrator my pookie bear <3!!!! a mixture of being a fan of memento (2001) and a haunting of hill house (the BOOK, not the awful movie or show), unreliable narrators are my favorite trope!! whether this narrator is high off a substance, is as clueless as the audience about their situation, OR even so egotistical that their worldview is skewed, I EAT THAT SHIT UP EVERY TIME WITHOUT FAIL! 

2: karmic retribution,, listen i love seeing someone get their just deserts (￣个￣) there is something so gutturally satisfying about karma

ALSO, i love the indomitable human spirit trope!!! 

maybe one day i’ll chat about my more shojo/booktok tropes i enjoy like “just one bed” and “colleagues to lovers” bc hey i know what sells.

33: How do you incorporate world-building elements into your fics?

Disney is such a huge realm to play around it. from the original Grimm fairytales (my beloveds mwah (*≧∀≦*) !!!!) to the movies Disney has made, world-building elements for twst is like a gold mine. it’s perhaps the biggest playing field i’ve ever seen from a fandom. 

how i go about incorporating it? well i always go look for faucets of the world everyone else is overlooking: when writing Schism, the ghost camera was untapped potential i had to jump on. i’m working on another oneshot that incorporates Disney’s 1963 The Sword in Stone; there is SO much real estate, you just got to dig around for it a bit.

ACTUALLY,, i have more to say

also about world-building in writing in general, let me siphon off Stephen King again: ok imagine a table covered by a table cloth.

really, imagine a table. secondly, imagine a table cloth.

ok, everyone who reads that imagines something completely different. someone might have imagined a circular table or a rectangular, the table cloth could have reached the ground or could have hovered a inch off the surface, the table cloth, there could’ve been lace on it or it could’ve been this striking red or dull blue.

when world-building, as the writer, you decide what elements you want to bring into the story; the rest? you give that creative liberty and trust to your audience.

[sweetbbyshion]

Cream Pie

-> Kento Nanami x Fem!Reader

characters: Kento Nanami

genre: smut

summary: You give Nanami his gift

warnings: SMUT, established relationship, unprotected sex, gift giving, a bit of oral (m->f and f->m) creampie

collab: this is my secret santa fic for @littleoanh !!!! i hope you like this my love. the secret santa collab was hosted by @mekiza

You let out an exaggerated sigh as you look at the clock in your living room. Nanami promised to be home for Christmas but it's getting closer and closer to dinner and you're losing hope. The whole day was filled with you preparing dinner and ornaments shaped cookies. You don't blame Nanami, you never would get mad at him for this. However, you blame curses for not taking a break on Christmas and you blame Gojo for not taking care of it alone and having to drag your fiancé with him. You stretch your back, eyes paying attention to The Grinch playing on the big TV in front of you. You sigh again as you drop back on the couch thinking about how much you miss Nanami and you wish you could be doing all of the Christmas activities with him.

You were about to check your phone for any notification when the sound of the door opening caught your attention. You quickly get up to welcome Nanami. He’s done taking off his shoes when you jump on him, hugging him tightly. Nanami tiredly hugs your waist, hiding his face on your hair as he sighs quietly.

“Sorry I’m late.” he murmurs.

You shush him, holding his hand to pull him to the kitchen. “I made dinner.” you say. “Let's eat so I can give you my presents.”

Nanami tries to argue but you simply push him to sit down, placing the food on the table before you sit down next to him. Nanami makes the effort to serve the both of you. He hums in appreciation when he first tries the food. The room is silent apart from the chopsticks clicking on the plates and bowls. You're both quiet for a while, just enjoying each other's presence.

“How was your day?” you say quietly, not to disturb the peace too much.

“Tiring. I missed you and I couldn't wait to be home.” Nanami confesses. “I hate Gojo.”

You laugh. “No, you don't. At least you're home now.” he sighs. The eyebags are clear under his eyes and he can't wait to go to bed and cuddle you for the rest of the night. You get up and offer your hand to him. “Come with me, it's time for your present.”

Nanami doesn't protest as you guide him to your shared bedroom. You get a box and give it to him as he sits at the foot of the bed. He opens it carefully and observes the silver watch inside it. He smiles softly at it, noticing your initials engraved on the back. He pulls you to his lap, placing a kiss on your lips as he murmurs a thank you.

Nanami is about to get up to get your present when you stop him, letting him know it's not over yet. You get up from his lap, taking off the shirt covering your upper body. Nanami watches intensely as you undress. You stand in front of him, between his legs. His hands hold your waist, dragging themselves down to touch your thighs. “What's my present?” he murmurs, caressing your thighs. The devilish smile you give him should have been a giveaway.

“I’ll let you fuck me raw.”

You see, Nanami was always very responsible. He always made sure to use condoms, no matter how much he wanted to cum inside you just to watch you gush out his cum when he was done with you. However, he was a mature adult that knew how irresponsible it was to have unprotected sex. Still, it doesn't stop Nanami from wanting to feel you without the condom separating you both. He felt conflicted. He really, really, wanted to fuck you raw but he wasn't sure it was a good idea. He could pull out but he's certain that he wouldn't be able to stop once he started.

Your hands touch his shoulders, “You're thinking too much.”, you whisper, “Please Kento.”. Nanami simply nods and lets you unbutton his pants. He watched in awe as you got down on your knees between his legs, signaling him to lift his hips to help you remove them. His mouth salivates as you lick his dick print, eyes never leaving his. He urges you to take off his underwear, feeling too horny for teasing. Nanami thinks you look pretty all the time but he can't deny you have a different kind of beauty when you have his dick in your mouth. The way your glossy eyes keep eye contact with Nanami drives him crazy and he wants to grab your hair and force you down. He stops himself from doing that, however. If he is going to cum today, he will make sure it won't be down your throat. You both get up and he signals for you to lay on the bed while he unbuttons the blue shirt he has on.

You look ready to jump on him, so hungry for the man that is taking his sweet time undressing. He crawls on the bed, settling himself between your legs. You should have known that your boyfriend would never forget about pleasuring you before even thinking about himself.

Nanami starts by kissing your thighs, soft lips leaving small, loving kisses along your inner thigh, switching between left and right. His hands settle themselves on your hip, forcing your lower body to stay pressed against the bed. You whine when he goes higher, but not higher enough to satisfy you. You can feel his breath hitting your wet pussy yet it's not enough. You need his lips, his tongue, his fingers, his dick. He kisses your clit, almost lovingly, and you let out a cry of his name. He hums, nose deep in your pussy, letting all of his senses be filled with you. Your fiancé’s hands still press your hips down, licking agonizingly slow.

“Kento… just come here and fuck me.”

“What’s the hurry?” Nanami rests his cheek on your thigh, looking up at you.

“Been waiting too long for this.” you whine. Nanami just chuckles before saying: “But you taste so good. I’ve missed your pussy.”

When you first met Nanami, you never thought he would be so pussy drunk. But looking at him now, cheeks flushed red, messy hair, glossing lips and shining eyes, Nanami looks pretty. He leaves his spot between your legs, even though he wanted to spend more time there, and towers over you. Your arms circle his neck and pull him down for a messy kiss. “Fuck me now.” you demand, whispering against his lips. Nanami chuckles again, grabbing the base of his dick to rub it against your hole. “Are you sure? We can still get a condom.” he assures. “I’m sure.” you tell him, eager to feel him.

Nanami pushes inside you and he almost feels like a teenager when he has to stop himself from coming as soon as he feels your insides without the condom separating you. Your moans aren't helping and Nanami closes his eyes to not come with the image in front of him. He now understands why Gojo kept saying it was better without a condom. Your fiancé doesn't think he will be anle to fuck you with a condom ever again.

“Kento…” you moan. “Move please. I need you to move.”

Nanami takes a deep breath and slowly pulls out before slamming into you again. He feels even more how you squeeze around him, sucking him in every time he pulls out. Nanami doesn't think he will last long, even though he wishes he could stay inside you like this forever. But he fucks you hard, in a way he doesn't think he ever did before. He watches your boobs move with each thrust, your moans getting loud as your eyes roll to the back of your head. You look so beautiful that Nanami wants to take a picture but he stops himself from reaching for his phone. You start screaming about being so close but your sentence gets cut out by a scream when Nanami touches your clit, making you cream around him. You squeeze him so hard that Nanami cums inside you as deep as he can, breathing loudly. He pulls out and his eyes widen as he watches his cum spilling out of your hole, mixed with some of yours.

With this, Nanami is 100% sure that he will never use a condom ever again.

[tickly-trashcan]

The Grinch! {Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail}

Advent Calendar Event!

A/N: i think i’m cursed when it comes to writing holiday fics LOL this one isn’t that good,, i haven’t played stardew valley in SO LONG but I need to as soon as my break starts bc I think stardew valley is what keeps me sane. anyways, hope yall enjoy!

Summary: Sam, Sebastian, and Abigail are decorating the Christmas tree.

“Would you guys stop playing hot potato with that ornament? I made that one!”

Sebastian chuckled, catching the ornament from Sam. He didn’t throw it back, instead inspecting it. “How old were you when you made it? Six?”

“Seven, actually,” Abigail smirked.

Sam whistled. “Better than what I was making at that age. Here, let’s put up the tinsel.”

Abigail walked over and helped Sam pull the tinsel out of the box as Sebastian found a spot for the hot potato ornament. 

Abigail exchanged a quick glance with Sam, grinning mischievously. Sam blinked. “What?”

Sebastian walked back over to the box to grab another ornament, but before he could grab any, Abigail threw the tinsel over him. Sam quickly caught on, laughing as he wrapped some around Sebastian, tangling him up. “Wait, you guys–!”

“Sebastian makes a better tree, don’t you think, Sam?” Abigail teased, watching as Sebastian struggled to untangle himself.

“He’s certainly tall enough to be one!” Sam laughed, nudging Abigail as Sebastian groaned.

“Ha ha, very funny. Now can you guys help me out of this?”

Abigail shrugged, nodding. “You’re no fun, Sebastian.”

“He can’t help being a Grinch,” Sam joked, making Abigail snort as she started to untangle Sebastian.

“Oh my goodness, you’re right! Sebastian, please don’t steal my presents!”

Sebastian glared at Abigail. “I won’t do that, but I will certainly be informing Santa that you need to go on the naughty list.”

Abigail stuck out her tongue. “I’m too good to go on the naughty list!”

She poked Sebastian a few times, making him jump. She hummed, raising an eyebrow. “Sam, do you think the Grinch is ticklish?”

“Who would wanna tickle that thing?” Sam asked, making a face as he thought back to the actual Grinch. Abigail gestured to Sebastian, and then Sam caught on. “Oh! Wait… Yeah, I bet the Grinch is.”

Sebastian glared at the two of them, shuffling away as best as he could with the tinsel around him. “I have Santa on speed dial.”

Abigail laughed. “Uh-huh, I’m sure the Grinch has Santa’s number,” She poked at Sebastian a bit more, making him giggle slightly.

“Dohon’t!”

“Don’t what, Mr. Grinch?”

“Tickle me! No, wait, you guys–!”

Sam and Abigail immediately bombarded Sebastian with tickles, with Sam going after his sides while Abigail squeezed his hips. He immediately broke into laughter, trying to push them away without tearing the tinsel.

“Nohohoho! You guhuhuys, we neeheeheed to decorahahate the tree!”

“Since when does the Grinch decorate for Christmas?!” Sam teased, walking behind Sebastian to keep him from trying to shuffle away again. He dug into his ribs, making Sebastian wail.

“Stahahap! Plehehease, no mohohore!”

Abigail hummed in contemplation. “Hmm… Maybe if you promise that you’ll tell Santa to put us on the nice list we’ll stop.”

“I cahahahan’t do that!” Sebastian whined, making Sam snort.

“Weren’t you just saying you had Santa on speed dial?”

“I wahahahas johoking! Jeeheez, you guys are so weheheheird!”

Abigail shook her head. “We are simply in the holiday spirit!”

Sebastian fell back against Sam as Abigail dug under his arms, making him holler. “Okahahahay! Okay, I’ll cahahahall Santa!”

Sam and Abigail immediately pulled their hands away, leaving Sebastian a giggly mess as Sam helped hold him up. The three of them laughed after a few moments, Sebastian finally managing to free himself from the tinsel.

“You guys really are so weird.”

“Isn’t that why you love us?” Sam chuckled, nudging Sebastian.

“If he really loves us, he’ll put in a good word for Santa.”

Sebastian shrugged. “I’ll do my best.”

[reeshyz]

Title: No one should be alone on Christmas Pairing: Paul landers / Richard Z. Kruspe   Presentee:@phanaticdoctor Prompt: The Grinch Warnings/Tags: Richard being the grinch | mutual pinning | just fluff Word Count: 2.280 Summary: Richard hates Christmas and he really doesn’t want to celebrate it. Somehow Paul makes him change his mind. Read on AO3: here

♪

Every band member of Rammstein liked Christmas a lot But Richard, who sat in their studio, did not.

Richard hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.

It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight. It could be that his head wasn't screwed on just right.

But I think that the most likely reason of all May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.

*

“And then I thought we could decorate the studio and…,” Schneider says as Richard enters the kitchen and the guitarist can’t help but roll his eyes. Of course. It’s nearly Christmas.

Richard shudders visibly and Schneider squints at him.

“Are you okay Richard?” Paul asks and he sounds worried. Richard wishes he could tell him and maybe even… you know, sit on his lap or something, but Richard isn’t the best at talking about his feelings and… maybe he is afraid that Paul is not interested.

“Sure, I just don’t like the whole Christmas-thing,” Richard mutters and then at least sits down next to Paul, who frowns at him.

“Richard, I know you told me your last Christmases weren’t great but we could all have some fun together here before Christmas. Maybe it gets you in the right mindset,” Schneider says and he fills Richard’s cup with nice smelling coffee. Richard looks at his friends for a moment.

“So, you’re saying it’s me ruining my own holiday season each year?” Richard asks and he crosses his arms in front of his chest,

“Richard, I’m sure it wasn’t your fault, but Schneider is right. Christmas is such a great time and I know that maybe you’d even enjoy it. I’d love to help,” Paul says slowly, his hand on Richard’s thigh now. Richard can’t concentrate on anything anymore because his hand is so warm, it feels as if he wants to burn Richard’s skin through his jeans.

This is just… rude. How can Richard even say ‘no’ to Paul, when he phrases it like this. Richard grumbles.

“Maybe you can convince me,” Richard finally says and he rolls his eyes for good measure. Paul and Schneider look at each other and then they start to grin.

“Sure, Mister Grinch,” Paul says and gets up. When he leaves, Richard stares at the open door. He’s not sure if that was just a joke or if Paul was hinting at his bad mood. Maybe Richard should really try to relax.

Schneider laughs, when Richard huffs and drinks his coffee. He already knows the next few days will be super exhausting, but what can he do, when the other band members want to have fun? Apparently being a Grinch.

Richard never wanted to turn out like that, but maybe he did.

*

Two days later Richard already has a headache that seems to be permanent at this point. There are candles lit everywhere, it takes him hours to find them all so he can blow them out before going to sleep so they wouldn’t burn the whole studio down.

“Richard, look! Paul and I got a tree,” Till says and he proudly shows Richard the huge tree in the living room. Richard almost faints because of the size. He can’t even walk around the damn thing, without sliding against the walls. Even his guitar is pressed against the wall.

“Yeah, amazing,” Richard grumbles, saving his guitar before he then picks some fir needles out of his collar. He can’t wait for january.

“And watch this Richard!” Paul says and Richard hadn’t even seen him. Paul is wearing a bright red jumper with a not-really-funny joke written on it and while it looks soft, Richard would never wear such a stupid thing.

Paul points at some of the ornaments, they are tiny guitars. One even looks like his RZK-II. Richard can’t help but smile at that.

“Okay, uh cool,” Richard says and Paul grins so widely, while Till continues to decorate their Christmas tree. Richard doesn’t really want to see that, so he walks to the kitchen in the hopes of finding some food.

“Still not in a Christmas mood?” Paul asks, while he walks next to Richard, who shrugs. He wouldn’t tell the idiots that he had already gotten them some gifts. They are hidden underneath Richard’s bed and he really had thought a lot about what to get them.

They are kinda personal, but Richard knows that they will all be very happy about them. Okay and maybe he is also excited for his own presents, whatever.

“Not sure,” Richard says and opens the kitchen door. It smells heavenly and Richard almost drools all over his shirt. There are so many cookies on their tables and the counter, Richard walks a bit faster over to them.

“I made them together with Flake,” Paul says and Richard has already one in his hand. Fuck, he can’t remember the last time he had homemade Christmas cookies. They smell so wonderful and Richard hums when he bites into a chocolate one.

“Holy fuck. So good,” Richard mumbles between bites and already takes the next few ones into his hands, when he sees what’s in the stove. Oh fuck yes.

“You cooked Dinner, too?” Richard wants to know and he wishes the chicken would be done already, because it looks amazing. Richard takes another cookie and smiles, yeah now he feels a bit like he could enjoy Christmas.

“Ollie helped me,” Paul says and then he kisses Richard on the cheek. Richard raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth, the half eaten cookie almost falling out of it. What had just happened? He slowly puts his hand on the spot Paul just kissed.

“Mistletoe,” Paul says and Richard blushes. Oh, of course, that was all. He is so stupid for hoping it could be anything more and he had almost liked Christmas… Richard’s brain almost stops working, when Paul smirks at him.

“Too bad though that you hate Christmas,” Paul says and walks out of the kitchen again. Richard watches him leave. Still a bit confused about all of this.

He doesn’t even understand why Paul wants him to have a nice Christmas in the first place.

*

Richard really enjoys the next few days, even though he would never admit that. At one point Flake even shows him how to decorate a gingerbread house and it looks kinda cool. 

But sadly everything good comes to an end. 

By now Richard feels like he should’ve gotten used to that.

“Alright, I’ll call you on Christmas,” Till says and he hugs him once more. Richard nods and then looks down at his shoes. He knows that Till has people who he wants to see on Christmas. They all do.

Besides him.

Richard sighs and then walks back into the studio. He would stay a few days longer and just think about new music, while he doesn’t have other stuff to do. He’s kinda glad everyone had put the decorations away.

“Rich?”

“Ja?”

Paul is suddenly behind him. Richard had hoped that he would’ve already left without saying goodbye. Richard hates saying goodbye to him, but it seems worse this time. They had spent too much time together.

Richard had never been so close to him and even though he had spent the last few years wishing for this, he knows it will hurt even more now that it’s over. 

Sometimes he had pretended that Paul was really flirting with him. 

“Aren’t you going home?” Paul asks and he sounds so sad. Richard feels a bit uncomfortable. He’s not sure that Paul would like to hear the truth.

“Not yet, later maybe,” Richard finally says, trying to be as vague as possible. 

“Oh okay. Well… I will miss you a lot,” Paul says and he almost sounds a bit shy. He’s smiling though and Richard can’t help but smile as well. He’s so in love it’s ridiculous.

“I will miss you too,” Richard whispers back and Paul holds up his arms. They hug for way longer than they should, but Paul in his arms feels just perfect and Richard doesn’t want to let go.

He’d never let Paul go if he could prevent it in any way.

“Merry Christmas,” Paul says and with another kiss to Richard’s cheek he is gone.

Leaving Richard behind. 

Alone.

Two days for Christmas.

Nothing is new. 

Maybe he’s really a Grinch and deserves this.

*

Richard sits down at one of the windows of his own apartment and looks out to the streets. It’s finally Heiligabend and he’s annoyed. He had left the studio behind, but only because the housekeeper had been so weird about him staying over Christmas.

As if that mattered to him.

Even as a kid he had run away a few times at Christmas, because it wasn’t like his mother cared and it didn’t bother him what his stepfather thought. But it had never felt as sad and exhausting as it feels today.

Just as he finishes his coffee, there’s a knock on the door. Richard groans. He is still dressed in his pajamas and puts a blanket around him, before opening the door. It’s Paul. 

His heart stops.

“Hey Richard,” Paul says, smiling all sweetly and even though Richard’s heart beats a bit faster, he doesn’t show it all. Instead he stands there almost motionless. He’s not really sure what to think.

“Hi,” Richard isn’t sure what else he could or wants to say. Paul’s smile falters a bit, like it always does, when Richard is so short with him. 

“I just wanted to wish you a merry Christmas on the right day this time,” Paul says and he holds up a box, wrapped in red and gold paper. Richard is a bit surprised, but he takes the gift from Paul, who is back to smiling so adorable.

Something is wrong with Richard’s heart, it beats even faster. Maybe he is dying?

“T-thank you, Paul,” Richard stammers and then he makes a huge mistake and invites Paul into his home. Paul steps inside, looking around for a moment.

“You didn’t decorate for Christmas?” Paul asks and Richard shakes his head. While he has to admit that he did enjoy the decorations after a while at the studio, it makes no sense to hang stuff up if he’s alone anyway.

“Not really,” Richard says, while they walk into the living room. The walls are white, his couch and most furniture is black. 

“So it didn’t help? You’re still not in a good mood?” Paul asks and he looks sad at that. Richard doesn’t really want to disappoint him, so he just shrugs. It feels a bit awkward, but Richard still sits down with Paul on the couch.

“A bit maybe,” Richard lies, even though he has to say, Paul looks cute in his Christmas sweater and with snowflakes in his hair. But then again, Paul always looks cute, so it’s not a surprise.

“I’m sure I can change that!” Paul says then, sounding as if he really has a plan. Richard snorts for a second. 

“And how do you plan to change it?” Richard asks, a smile on his face. He already feels a bit better and he hates himself for pushing Paul away before. 

“Well, I talked To Till a bit and he told me you’d be alone. And… nobody should be alone on Christmas, especially not you. Uhm… you deserve more,” Paul says and he fidgets a bit nervously. 

“What do you mean?” Richard asks, because he doesn’t deserve anything good. He knows that. Paul takes his hand again.

“I mean if you want me here, then I’d be happy to stay. There’s… probably nothing more that I wish for than celebrating Christmas with you,” Paul says and this time Richard smiles softly at him.

Maybe… maybe he could be this lucky.

He should stop being such a Grinch on Christmas and give Paul a chance.

“Open your gift,” Paul says and Richard opens it very carefully. He pulls out some Christmas movies, some recipe books for Christmas cookies, some tea and a soft blanket. Richard snorts at all the things, while Paul blushes.

“And you will stay for all of this?”

“If you want me to stay, I’d love to,” Paul whispers and Richard nods. He wanders off to the kitchen and starts to make them tea, they could start to bake some cookies later and somehow Richard already feels a lot better.

He smiles widely to himself. So wide that his whole face hurts.

When he comes back they cuddle down underneath the blanket. Richard can’t help himself and he pulls an arm around Paul’s shoulders. Paul doesn’t seem to mind, he cuddles even more against Richard.

For a moment they’re just looking at each other.

“Please kiss me,” Paul whispers and Richard finally does. He shyly presses his lips against Paul’s warm ones and sighs happily. Paul tastes like tea, peppermint and something else, but Richard had never gotten such a sweet kiss before.

“And Richard, do you like Christmas now?” Paul asks and he fucking winks at Richard.

“Hell yes.”

Richard kisses him again.

* Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!

And what happened then? Well, in the band they say That Richard’s small heart grew three sizes that day!

*

Paul pinches him.

Richard whines in pain.

“I knew you had the biggest heart the second I first saw you. Stop lying to the Readers,” Paul says and Richard smiles.

Maybe Paul is right.

Richard’s heart had always been so full of love for Paul (and his music).

[supercorpkid]

L Corp’s Christmas party.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Sam Arias x Goddaughter!Reader.

Word Count: 1380.

“Hey, where’s mom?” You walk down the stairs to see only Kara on the couch, eating leftovers in some kind of pity party.

“L Corp thing.” She mumbles, mouth full of food, and she spares no glance at you.

“What L Corp thing? I was there today, and I haven’t heard a single thing about it.” You throw yourself on the couch in front of her and look at the TV. Kara’s too far gone watching ‘The Grinch’. “Hey!” You throw a pillow at her face to get her attention.

“Huh?” She finally looks at you and you raise an eyebrow at her. “It’s a Christmas party, kid.”

“L Corp is having a Christmas party?” You ask in shock. Kara agrees with her head. “And we’re not invited?”

“What? No. I mean, yeah, I guess.” She shrugs and you look at her. You really look at her. Curled up on a couch watching a super old -yet amazing- Christmas movie, looking sorry for herself.

“Come on.” You get up and go to her, showing her your hand. “Come, momma. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Kara says, first cleaning her greasy hand on her t-shirt, then holding yours.

“Oh, we’re crashing into a fancy party.” You smile at her.

“Little one, I don’t think that’s a good idea. It’s an office party and-”

“And we’re the family of the CEO. Besides, I bet there’s good food. Much better than the leftovers you’re eating.” You try, but you can see Kara is still reluctant to go. “My beautiful, sweet momma, a party without you is barely a party at all.”

“Oh ok.” She tries to play it cool about it, like she doesn’t believe you, but there’s a blush on her cheeks right after you say it.

“Go dress in your finest outfit, and I’ll do the same.”

She rolls her eyes, like she can’t even believe she’s considering it. “They probably won’t even let us in.”

“I’d love to see them try and stop me.” You smirk. “Go. Go look handsome for your wife.”

“Fine. But I’m only going because of the food.” She makes her way to her bedroom, and you smile to yourself. Yeah, right.

It’s only a few minutes later when she knocks on your door. You’re almost ready as well. Having super speed is so great.

“Ok, I’m ready.” She walks in, after you invite her, and you smile at her.

‘I’m only going for the food’ just put on her best dress, that shows way too much of her cleavage for a 48-year-old.

“Oh wow.” You smile at her. “Someone’s trying to get laid tonight.”

“Hey!” Kara furrows her brows, pretending to be bothered by your comment. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Yeah, ok. Let me just-” You finish your light make-up and turn to her.

“Come onnnn.” She whines. “I swear if you look prettier than what you are right now, I might have to leave you locked up at home. Or in a tower somewhere.”

“You’re so silly.” But still you blush at the compliment.

It’s kind of stupid getting all dressed up to then fly to L Corp, having your hair being all messed up as soon as you land.

“Ready to go fit in with the big shots?” You ask Kara, who rolls her eyes at you while laughing.

“I’ve been faking for years now, baby. You’d be surprised at how well I can do it.” Kara holds your hand and both of you make your way out of the alley and to L Corp.

“Name?” You’re asked, first thing.

“Kara Luthor-Danvers and-”

“Oh, Mrs. Luthor. Yes, please. Enjoy the party!” The man says and you smile at Kara while walking in.

“Not so much as crashing in, but I’ll take it.”

“Kara?” You hear Sam’s voice behind you, and you turn around to see her there, looking very fine in her suit. “I can’t believe you came! Lena’s gonna love to see you both here.”

“Will she?” Kara asks with a forced smile, and Sam smiles reassuringly.

“Of course. Why don’t you go find her? And you, munchkin, I just ate the best shrimp cocktail in my life. You’re going to love it!”

“Sounds like a plan.” You make your way towards Sam, but Kara holds your hand a little stronger, making it impossible for you to move. You look at her, furrowing your brows. Why is Kara so scared of being here? “Actually, godmother, I’ll go find my mom too. Then I’ll meet you for shrimp.”

“Ok then. Come find me later.” Sam walks away, engaging in a conversation with someone else close-by.

You turn to Kara. “What’s wrong?”

“Remember the last L Corp event?” Kara’s face looks very distressed. You try to think of the last time L Corp held an event, but nothing comes to mind. “I sorta broke the table with all of the drinks.”

“Oh.” You try to be respectful and hold back the laughter, but it’s too hard when you remember the scene perfectly. You’ve never seen someone destroy so many bottles of champagne so fast. She furrows her brows harder when sees you wheezing out a laughter. “Sorry. I-I’m-That was not funny.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolls her eyes at you.

“Sorry, momma. I’ve got you, ok? I won’t leave your side.” You squeeze her hand, and she agrees with her head looking less stressed. “Let’s find mom.”

It doesn’t take long for you to find Lena, looking absolutely stunning in her green one-shoulder dress. Why the hell weren’t you born looking like her?

“Mom!” You call her and she turns around to you.

“What!” She looks so damn happy to see both of you there, you can’t believe you almost didn’t come because Kara was afraid of breaking something. “Look at the two of you. Hi, baby!” She hugs you first. “You look so pretty.”

“Thanks mom.” You smile, finally letting go of Kara’s hand so they can hug as well.

“You’re here.” Lena says softly.

“I’m here.” Kara agrees with a forced smile.

“Thank you, honey.” She whispers in Kara’s ear, and you can’t help but notice how Kara’s body finally relaxes for the first time since you decided to crash at the party. Lena looks so happy you’re both there; you have no idea why Kara was scared in the first place.

After Lena goes around proudly introducing you to some old people you’ve never once heard of, you finally slip out to the shrimp cocktails Sam told you good things about. And man, wasn’t she right!

The night is nice. A little bit too fancy for your liking, but when you and Sam slip into her office with a bunch of food she helped you sneak in, it’s all more than great.

“Hey, there you guys are!” Your moms open the door to Sam’s office and find both of you sitting on the floor eating shrimps and tapas with your own hands.

“Oh.” Sam swallows deep, scared she’ll get in trouble. “I just came here to tell her to not steal food.”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Really? You’re gonna throw me under the bus like that?”

You both look back at Lena, scared that she’ll be mad. But what happens in reality is that Lena takes off her heels and sits on the floor right in front of both of you.

“So what nice things have you smuggled in here, outlaws?” She asks, accepting the champagne glass that Sam is offering her.

Kara sits next to her right after. “Oh, the dumplings! Yeah!” She takes three at once, stuffing all of them in her mouth at the same time. “That’s my kind of party.” She says mouthful.

“Yeah.” Lena’s eyes are smiling so hard you don’t even need to look at her lips. She reaches for your arm and gives it a light squeeze. “The best kind.” You agree with your head and she mouths a ‘thank you’ to you. You nod again with a smile.

It is the best kind of party. Being here between your moms and your godmother, eating really good food, and laughing, and being silly. Rao, you love Christmas time and your family so very much.

Notes:

Yeah, I know Christmas is just next week, but apparently it’s all me and @supercorpenthusiastic can think about. So, you know, you guys can thank her for this one.

[littlefreya]

Santa Baby

Summary: For over a decade, detective Walter Marshall kept a dirty little secret, thinking no one would ever find out about his past. Sadly for him, you are somewhat of a detective yourself.

Challenge prompt: the song Santa Baby.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Some sexy themes but mostly fluffy floof fluff.

A/N: This is for @toomanystoriessolittletime​​ Christmas challenge, which I am sadly a day late with. Remind me to never sign up to challenges. I stumbled upon erotic book covers that looked a lot like Walter (this and this) so decided it’s a funny idea. I never read these books, so I am not mocking it or the artist who drew it. Many thanks to @wondersofdreaming​ for helping me out. Not beta’d, I own my mistakes.

Please feedback, comment, reblog if you enjoyed reading. 💖

Title: Santa Baby

It’s not that Detective Marshall was the Grinch or anything, it’s just that he couldn’t afford to be merry. With crime levels peaking during that time of the year, and sunlight being scarce, his body ran strictly on caffeine and stale doughnuts. 

The temptation to spend Christmas eve sprawled on the worn-out leather sofa in his office was quite strong tonight. But even big hulking bears had their weaknesses, and as exhausted as he was, he dreaded every morning he woke up without your warm body curled up beside him. 

With his energy level blinking red, he finally decided to call it a night and drive home. Heavy growling and thundering drums roared within his truck, the extreme Scandinavian black-metal he listened to served as a complete contrast to the soft snow that fell from the sky and quietly piled up on the sides of the road. Pausing at the street-light, he watched the little crystals striving to form on his windshield and melting just as quickly against the heat of the car. 

For a single moment, all the terrors of the night diminished by the little flame that was the reminiscent of you - his little firefly who led him through the darkness, tender as snow and wild as fire. Accelerating just a tad, he imagined you’d be asleep by the time he’d get there, and if not, Walter hoped to at least be in your good graces. 

Luckily, ther warm orange hues beaming through the windows assured him that you were still very much awake, and he couldn’t help but spare one of his rare smiles.

Muffled tunes of a familiar song played beyond the door, the bass vibrating through the polished wooden flooring and the walls. Slow and sensual like honey rolling off one’s finger, the jazzy beats filled the spacious house along with the sweetest scent of crushed peppercorn and red berries. Smiling wider, he held onto the doorframe and kicked off his heavy boots.

“Pet?” he called and followed into the living room, hearing you humming along with the lyrics.

“Santa baby, just slip a Sable under the tree for me.”

Oh, he was indeed in your good graces. 

Sitting on your knees with your ankles hunched below your ass, you wore a velvety Santa hat and a sheer, red nighty finished by fake white fur that outlined your breasts. Your hands held a shiny green present over your thighs, and you gave him one of those coy looks that made him want to fall before you and pledge himself as your servant.

Instead, he crooked an eyebrow and unzipped his thick winter coat, carelessly discarding it on the floor and making his way toward you.

“Have you been an awful good girl?” 

Sleeves rolled up; he crossed his muscular arms together while towering over you. His cobalt eyes drank in your sight, trying to decide what to do with you first. The scent of musky sweat mingled with dark cologne wafted over you within seconds, making your chest rise and sink in a primal instinct. 

“Oh, I’m definitely going down your chimney tonight,” he growled upon your reaction to his presence and sucked in his bottom lip with growing hunger.

“At least three times,” you dared him in return and then casually lowered your gaze to the box perched on your lap. 

The large man caught on the hint and carefully knelt before you. One of his hands reached to stroke his beard while his mind rummaged to figure out what surprise hid behind the shiny package. 

“Got something for me over there?” he wondered with a playful beam, “I thought we’re not doing presents until tomorrow morning.”

“Just a little teaser,” you answered. Your eyes shone brighter than the large decorated tree that stood at the corner of the living room. 

Being a detective, Walter could practically smell the mischief that drenched every teeny hair on your body. As usual, his naughty vixen was up to no good. It always made him laugh how bad you were in trying to surprise him, which worked in his favour. Walter hated surprises. 

Intrigued, he snatched the gift from your hands and shook it against his ear for shy second before beginning to unwrap it. His eyes briefly scrutinised yours, darkening, smokey with lust while he tore at the chrome paper and absentmindedly threw pieces of green wrapping all over the living room. 

You watched carefully, your cheeks rounding and filling, your teeth flashing with wickedness upon seeing the colour drain from his rugged face.

“Where…”

Walter paused and swallowed the lump in his throat. Fingers oily with sweat and knuckles turning white, dug into the object held in his hand.

“How did you find this?!”

The snort you’ve been trying to hold back for the last couple of minutes finally made its way out, followed by a fit of uncontrollable giggles that made you fall to your back with your hand held over your torso. 

Walter, on the other hand, was anything but amused. He always feared the day someone would dig up his dirtiest secret.

It was more than a decade ago when he was struggling to pay his tuition to the police academy that Walter found an easy and quick way to make money. As a British immigrant who barely had friends and blended with the crowd, he made the mistake of thinking no one will ever know about his short-lived modelling career for cheesy erotic novels. 

He should have known better. He might have been a professional police detective, but you had a skill for uncovering the truth.

“Where did you find this?” Walter repeated with a frown, clenching his jaw and waving the colorful book in the air.

Pausing your giggles merely for a second, you took a gander at the cover, focusing on the image of your dear husband’s open white shirt. There he was, the man you knew as a brooding, black-sweater wearing grump, lost in some green meadow with a half-naked chick. A deep dramatic gaze crisped his younger face, his nose inhaling the scent of her hair, and his hand laid flat upon her juicy rump. 

Oh the drama!

You tried to speak, but all that came out of your mouth was an uncontrollable peal of chuckles. The corny title of the book didn’t help either; his fiery love rod.

Walter sulked and suddenly shuffled to hover above you, one hand snapped at your wrist before the other discarded the book onto your sternum and joined in restraining your other arm. Led purely by instinct, your legs spread to straddle his wide waist and wrapped around his muscular ass.

Staring at your strong, intimidating husband, the laughter rolling from your lips slowly died down, yet the smile was still smeared between your cheeks, especially once you felt his groin pressing into yours.

“Woman!” the big bear growled at you, “I am not going to ask you more than once, where on earth did you bloody find this?”

“The second-hand bookstore,” you answered and glanced at the book lying upon your chest, “was looking for something raunchy to read when suddenly I noticed a familiar face.” You explained and then swallowed the dryness in your throat. 

“At first I thought I was hallucinating with all them Christmas carols eating into my brain, but then when I took a closer peek, I recognised my husband’s ‘fuck me’ stare.” 

Walter felt a burn rising in his throat and swerving to tingle at his bristly cheeks. If there ever was a moment when he regretted a life decision, that moment was now. He knew he’d never hear the end of it from you. You were dauntless and unyielding as the ocean, one of the reasons why he was utterly in love with you. 

Nostrils flaring, he tightened the grasp around your wrists and rolled his hips into yours, eliciting a small moan from your quivering lips. The thick bulge in his groin hardened at the calling of the hot, wet patch in your panties.

“Name your terms, woman.”

“You are going to read it to me,” you answered without even overthinking and gestured toward the book with your chin. “Every. night. before. bedtime. I want you to hold me in your big strong arms and read me a chapter from ‘his fiery love rod’, or else…”

“Or else?...” 

The fire from the mental suddenly illuminated your face, causing dark shadows to form over your irises and the hollows below your brows. “Your friends at the MPD are going to find out about this one,” you paused, “and the 12 others that you made.”

Taken back by your words, Walter gulped, his fingers became moist around your wrists as sheer horror seeped into his mind.

“You... you know about the others?”

You nodded at him and then snaked your legs around the back of his thighs to cage him in your grasp like a fickle dryad growing her roots around a helpless wanderer. With his attention faltering, you twisted your hips and rolled the two of you so you were on top. Fingers lacing into his, you pinned him down and leered over him with cascading triumph.

“12 books, all under our Christmas tree, detective, so you better be good to me tonight and satisfy all my needs.”

Adam apple bobbing up and down, Walter watched you with a mixture of awe and agitation. There was nothing he hated more than losing control, but damn if he didn’t adore his wicked queen, especially when you were in a joyous mood, which, as he found, tended to be contagious. The moments in which the grouchy detective felt at peace were rare to non-existent. It was only in the embrace of your thighs that he thought that for a minute, everything is going to be okay.

Noticing the muscles of his jaw somewhat relax, you reached for the Christmas hat and slipped it off your head, placing it atop of his curly mess instead. Your hands held firmly onto Walter’s shoulders, and with a careful twist, you flipped the two of you over once again and shoved him down your torso while blissfully chanting.

“Santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight, hurry down the chimney tonight, hurry toniiiiiiiiiiight.”

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

Disclaimer: I don’t own Night Hunter/Nomis or Walter Marshall

[btswritingcafe]

SECRET SANTA MASTERLIST

Welcome to Btswritingcafe! Here you can find a complete masterlist of all the fics that were written for this event!

We are thankful for every single writer that wanted to participate in our first Secret Santa. Please check out all of these amazing stories!

K E Y

fluff [❀] | angst [♛] | smut [❦]

brightside | ❀ ♛ [ @lavienjin ]

— kim namjoon, 8k

you're giving your husband one more chance to set things right, before the snow covers not just the ground but whatever remainder of love you have left in your heart.

maybe i love you, maybe you love me | ❀ [ @jinpanman ]

— min yoongi, 2.9k

It’s something you’ve known since you were five and it’s only grown stronger as the decades passed.

snow is falling outside, but i’m falling for you | ❀ [ @softbobamilktae ]

— kim seokjin, 6.3k

Ashley goes home with Tae for Christmas as his fake date for the holidays. Little does she know, love (in the form of Tae's older brother) is closer than she thinks.

cold heart | ❀ ♛ [ @fluffyydumplings ]

— jung hoseok, 3.8k

Hoseok’s the prince of every human being’s dream. Both literally and metaphorically. Behind close doors, he is yours. In front of the crowd, he is man who is yet to be claimed.

all i don’t want for christmas is you | ❀ ❦ [ @sunshinerainbowsbts ]

— kim seokjin, 23.7k

The holidays are here! But instead of celebrating, you're trapped in a town called Christmas with your office nemesis, Kim Motherfucking Seokjin, and an unruly band of clients. Can you survive the trip and secure the promotion your boss has promised? Or will Jin take you down?

it’s the most wonderful time of the year | ❀ ❦ ♛ [ @playmetheclassics ]

— kim namjoon, 16.8k

Namjoon is a slight grinch, and Christmas is just a day that reminds him of a crappy time, but you love this holiday, and you’re determined to not let him ruin it for you.

la vien jin | ❀ [ @jooncycle ]

— kim seokjin, 9.2k

You’re a grinch when it comes to the seemingly overhyped Christmas season. So when a jolly Kim Seokjin quite literally snowballs himself in your life, you are not prepared.

when it snows | ❀ ♛ [ @augustbutwinter ]

— jung hoseok, 4.4k

you think about jung hoseok a lot. especially when it snows.

the howl-o-days | ❀ ❦ [ @btsarmy9593 ]

— kim namjoon, 8.7k

a gift for you and me | ❀ ♛ [ @aglassofpinkchampagne ]

— min yoongi, 1.4K

When your ex shows up at your door on Christmas Eve, how will you react?

five fridays in december | ❀ ♛ [ @reliablemitten ]

— kim namjoon, 10k

[ Sequel ]

cookie confessions | ❀ [ @aredheadedmess ]

— min yoongi, 4.1k

It’s the holidays once again, and you want nothing more than to spend it with him.

under the christmas tree | ❀ ♛ [ @diorkoo ]

— kim taehyung, 3.8k

caught in a blizzard | ❀ [ @namjin-fangirling-again ]

— jeon jungkook, 2k

first christmas together | ❀ [ @jinnie-forthe-winnie ]

— park jimin, 7.4k

come back to me when winter’s here | ❀ ♛ [ @jiminie-and-his-pinky-finger ]

— jeon jeongguk, 7.4k

Going off for the last semester of her college, Ellen plans on enjoying it without any trouble. She was going to graduate and leave town, pursuing herself somewhere else. But her plans come to a freezing halt when she spots him. Jungkook, the new center of attention and, more importantly, her ex.

kiss me if you can | ❀ ♛ [ @minvrse ]

— min yoongi, 6k

a kiss under the mistletoe can change a lot of things, some for worse and others for the better.

my true love gave to me | ♛ ❀ [ @sunshinejunghoseokie ]

— min yoongi, 2.6k

눈(물) nun(mul) | ❀ ❦ ♛ [ @joontella ]

— min yoongi, 4.8k

Thank you to all of the amazing writers who participated! This event was wonderful to host!

[ubemango]

*gregorian chant* breeding kink c*m inflation kink breeding kink c*m inflation kink breeding kink c*m inflation kink bree

In another universe pups is the ABO fic I never wrote HJDHJDSHJDSHJHJFHJFSD OK so anyway I won’t lie I had to google what cum inflation was and when I saw what I saw.... yes. Ok. It got my brain gears going *rusty noise of gears turning* U know what I mean??? So i was thinking..... ***NSFW WARNING

.

.

.

You see hentai on Namjoon’s laptop one day. You’ve mastered the art of nonchalance, though. So when he comes back from the bathroom and gives you a smile—as if you haven’t gotten a peek into Things That Turn Namjoon On That Don’t Include You—you breathe an internal sigh of relief. Safe.

Except you’ve stopped taking notes and now all you can think about is Namjoon watching porn so brazenly on his laptop. Where he does schoolwork of all places! He could at least just use his phone. Also you’re just a teensy bit wet because cartoon boobs and dick is still conducive to horny hours, even if you are doing something as unsexy as critical writing.

Your study date ends with a simple kiss on the lips because Hoseok’s home this time and you’d rather not taint the living room space while he’s occupying the apartment too. Namjoon slips in a little bit of tongue though, because he’s cheeky like that.

You text Namjoon right when you get home. You lie and say you’re going to sleep early, with the excuse that you have to wake up early for a meeting with your advisor. And when he sends you his good night text, you get to it. Getting ready for bed, turning your night light to the colour red once you’ve settled in.

You have sleuthing to do.

Because the hentai wasn’t just... well there’s no regular hentai, is there? It’s just. There. Being hentai. And what’s Namjoon without an inclination for messy pussies because of—because of—

You close your eyes tight because you can’t believe what you’re about to type into the search bar on your phone.

But first!

Incognito. Whew. The shame of clearing your history would be too much to bear. So when you press enter on cum inflation it isn’t so bad. Especially when all the X-rated websites pop up and your screen just becomes Anime Boobies Galore when you click the first link.

You can’t believe Namjoon had the gall to just leave that website up there on his screen. You’re scrolling down the page and already you’re feeling hot. And it isn’t even because of the fact that you’re skimming through videos of perfect girls getting so cummed up their stomachs literally become distended. Nor is it the thought of Namjoon watching it and enjoying it, either. Rather...

Was he thinking of you when he was watching these videos? Bending your knees up over your shoulders and promising you that he’s saved up all his cum for you? Getting you to drool down your chin, cross-eyed?

(Your hand is down your panties at the third video you come across. You come pretty hard when you see the girl’s pussy literally spew semen from how hard the guy comes inside her. And when you reach post-orgasm clarity you immediately exit the browser, chuck your phone onto the floor, and hope to god sleep overtakes you within twenty seconds.)

The next time you meet up for another study date with Namjoon is the weekend. That’s a good three nights of jacking it off to the same video of a huge dongle fucking a good five buckets of semen inside his girlfriend. And when you settle all your notebooks and laptop down, you immediately go for the kill.

“Do you like anime boobs?”

Namjoon chokes on the water he’s drinking from his bottle. “I—ahem. What, uh... what brought this on?”

“I’ve been watching a lot of hentai so I thought I’d ask,” you clarify.

“Uh-huh,” he says incredulously.

“And you know, it’s just—I liked it. A lot. You know. Just for your information.”

Namjoon blinks. “Are you trying to get at something here?”

“Because I don’t really mind, you know. Porn is porn. And you can like whatever you want. Like as long as it’s nice and consensual,” you ignore him.

“Babe.”

“Like I would never make fun of you because I’m—well I’ve watched Grinch porn before but that was against my own will—“

“Baby,” Namjoon laughs, squishing your cheeks to stop your rambling. “What’s going on?”

“I like h’ntai,” you try to articulate with his hands still keeping your lips pressed in like this.

“I get that. But why?”

Oh god. You don’t even know what you want from this conversation. Maybe the guilt of catching him has caught up to you. Or maybe you also just want to have a distended stomach from having Namjoon bust a fat load inside you.

You take his hands from your face, clutch at them for support. “I saw... Um. What you were watching. The other day.”

“Ah.” You watch Namjoon’s ears turn red. He squeezes your hands right back. “You—damn. I’m sorry.”

“No—!” You clear your throat when it warbles. “N-No... it’s... well I...”

You feel his thumb rub comfort into your skin. He looks like he’s getting ready for a scolding. So when you say, “I actually really liked it and I’ve been watching it every night,” in one breath, Namjoon blinks.

And blinks.

After a solid sixteen seconds of silence, he says: “That’s really hot.”

You both stare at each other. The notebook you laid out for notes sits quietly, waiting.

“You wanna go to your bed—?”

Namjoon nearly dislodges your shoulder when he pulls you up to stand. “Yes we’re going right now.”

Something you’re really thankful for when it comes to Namjoon is how compatible you two are. You can’t count how many times you’ve both just looked at each other, no words to say, but somehow still completely on the same page. It’s like you both have the instinct of the other person ingrained in the part of your brain that deals with intuition.

You’re pretty keen on foreplay most days, but even Namjoon sees you’d rather rip your hair out than not immediately go for the feeling of his dick ramming inside you right at this very second. He laughs when you strip in record time, laying supine on the bed while he undresses.

“What’s gotten into you?” As if he’s not hard himself. He crawls over you with kisses warm on your belly, your breasts. “I have to admit. I really just wanted to fuck today.”

“Oh thank god,” you sigh. You knew something was up the second you realized Hoseok wasn’t home. He probably sexiled himself. You remind yourself to buy him dinner one day for his noble deed. “Just—I’m wet. I think. I just want you inside me, please.”

Namjoon groans. “You’re dangerous.”

“I watched hentai for three nights straight, I’m horny,” you whine in correction.

“You wanna know something? Please don’t laugh.”

“What?” Oh you’re wet alright. Namjoon lines his cock at your hole, slides tight inside. “O-Oh—what?”

“I kind of. I haven’t jacked off since the last time we met,” he says, voice tight. “Thank god you watched that shit because I probably sound crazed right now.”

“Huh?”

He grinds up till his hips meet your ass, and you shiver when the tip of his cock hits just right. “I—I wanted to save my cum for you,” he admits, sweating at his neck, and something clicks inside you, because you were right.

“I thought—about that too—ngh!”

Namjoon fucks you steady now. No more shy thrusts like he always starts off with to gauge your mood. He knows you want it. “Shit. About what, baby?”

“You. A-And... making me full... of you.”

“Oh my god.” He grabs your thighs, opening you wide. Takes a thumb to your clit like he’s on a mission. “Will you come with me? Can you do that?”

Holy fuck you’d do anything for him. So you nod, moaning with every hard thrust he gives you. Your legs threaten to close when he rubs you raw, but he commands with a low voice:

“Open, pups.”

Embarrassingly, that does it. He’s never one to order you around. And knowing he’s purposefully saved you his cum like it’s Christmas come early, you know better than to hinder the process.

Your legs shake when you open wider, feeling the warmth of his cock tenfold. “I’m close,” you cry when he slams into you.

“Feel it here?” He slides a sweaty palm to your abdomen. “Gonna give it to you right there. Make you so full. So pretty. All—mine—!”

You don’t even know if that was your signal. But the thought of him swelling you up like that girl on your screen, her womb so full with cum and promise—

“Joonie!” You shriek, toppling right into red-hot pleasure, clutching at the sheets because it’s too much. You come in waves, and Namjoon rides it with you, bucks into you with one last groan. You feel it, feel his excess warmth coat your insides just like he’d told you, and you pretend you feel your stomach balloon for more space. He rubs a grateful hand on your stomach.

“My little cum dump,” he coos tiredly, and you slap his arm with a laugh.

“Don’t pull out yet.” You slide your arms around his shoulders, bringing his tired form onto you. “Keep me plugged in.”

He laves at your neck. “Oh so now I’m out of line when I say weird shit.”

“I never said it was weird,” you whisper. “I’ll happily house all your semen.”

“Oh my—pfft. Ok. You know what? Show me that video you were watching, I need to know what’s got you like this,” he snorts, and you promise to do it later. You’ll just keep him like this for a little while.