#no one ever talks or argues about this though

[rafesbangs]

𝜗𝜚 you and rafe had never gotten along, but one plane ride changed it all

c!w; mdni !! reader is sassy lol, mean dom!rafe, kinda dom!reader a bit, degradation, rough hate sex lol, 'unprotected' sex, p in v, lotta dirty talk, slight size kink as per usual.

notes; i mostly write a shyer reader or established relationship sooo this is kinda outta my comfort zone a little ! i hope you enjoy ! ALSO this is kinda longggggg

you loathed rafe cameron. he was the embodiment of everything you hated about entitled kook assholes that didn't deserve their privilege, there was unfortunately a plethora of them, he would be their king.

how did you have the displeasure of knowing rafe cameron? well your father and his worked very closely for years, building an empire upon which both your dad and ward sat atop on.

you could admit that you too were definitely privileged, absolutely spoiled even, but you would definitely argue that you were raised right in comparison to the people in which you shared a zip code with.

you and rafe had gotten acquainted not only through just being at the same high school prior to graduating, but also because your dad and ward enjoyed hosting a little too much. there were many a party where you had to take care of drunk rafe because you couldn't stand disappointing your father, even though rafe wasn't your responsibility.

it was only recently that ward and your father had been taking you to their big office tower, showing you and rafe the ropes. seeing as you were both the first born children, you were to inherit and become the heads of the empire your fathers had cultivated.

you always thought about how there's no way rafe would ever rise to such a responsibility.

it was a cold autumn day when you and rafe had been called to join your fathers for another day of learning, you two were technically already apart of the company having graduated from high school, but you were still learning.

unfortunately for you, ward had decided you two would join them at the office tower in atlanta, meaning you had to sit on a plane alone with rafe.

you were dreading the hour flight as the uber pulled up to the landing strip. the two of you had been silent the entire car ride, thankfully the feeling of hatred was neutral so you never had to worry about rafe bothering you, but his existence was enough anyway.

you hopped out of the uber, grabbed your overnight bag and headed up the steps of the private jet.

the two of you sat adjacent to each other, rafe with his signature smirk adorning his lips, he knew you were hating every minute of this. the plane hadn't even moved yet, something about the pilot being late.

"where the fuck is this pilot." rafe grumbled, you ground your teeth and glared at him before turning back to look outside.

rafe began tapping his foot impatiently before walking into the flight attendant quarters, emerging from behind the curtain with a bottle of whiskey and a glass.

your jaw ticked in annoyance, of course he wouldn't offer you a glass, typical. you couldn't hold back the words, they were falling off the tip of your tongue, "you could offer a glass at least." you growled, crossing your leg over the other.

rafe's gaze tore off of the over filled glass in front of him and onto your legs, you were wearing a form fitting pair of grey pinstripe pants as well as a tight long button up shirt, it was driving rafe crazy. he rolled his eyes and took a big gulp of the drink, it burning smoothly down his throat.

"asshole." you muttered, getting up to get yourself a gin and tonic instead, it was too early in the day for whiskey anyway. rafe watched your ass as you disappeared into behind the curtain, twitching his nose in annoyance about how hot he found you. you came back with a drink in hand, making sure to glare at him a little before sitting down.

the pilot finally arrived, walking up onto the plane and apologising as he walked past the two of you, rafe shook his head at the ground, "we've been fuckin' waiting, you think we have time t'wait like this?" he spat, the pilot simply apologised again and scurried off to the cockpit, rafe muttered something about talking to his father as he did.

you shook your head a little at rafe, brow slightly furrowed, of course he had to treat everyone around him like shit. the plane finally began moving, zooming down the airstrip before finally taking off into the air. you started fiddling with your pen as the two of you sat in silence before dropping it on the floor, it rolled down the passage way as the plane was still gaining height and you sighed heavily.

after the aircraft had finally levelled out, you got up and walked over to pick up your pen, bending your back all the way down. rafe's jaw ticked as he stared at you, he knew you had to be teasing him at this point.

"slut" he mumbled as you walked over to go sit back down, you paused and turned towards him with a raised eyebrow. "what was that?"

his eyes met yours and he took a long sip of whiskey before repeating himself, spelling the word out to you like you were a toddler. you scoffed at him and rolled your eyes, shaking your head, you'd been called a slut before for simply just looking the way you look.

"fuckin' walking around, bending over in those pants.. 'nd that tight top, seriously y/n?" he said, clearly and to your face now. you were stunned at the way he dared to talk to you, even more stunned when you noticed he was sporting a little something below the belt of his dress pants.

he rolled his sleeves up, a tick you noticed he had a long time ago, before taking another swig of whiskey. you tried not to stare but ultimately you couldn't deny that one of the other main reasons you hated rafe so much had to do with the fact that he was such an asshole, but such a fine asshole.

you never knew you had such a thing for veins until you started sneaking looks at rafe every time he was bothered enough to roll his sleeves up.

you stopped. "fuck off rafe, i can wear what i want. it's not like i'm wearing anything revealing, i mean, just because you got hard-"

he quickly stood up, his gaze piercing and heart stopping, you didn't even trail off from your sentence, just completely shut up. "think you can fuckin'-" he inched closer and closer, you backed up until you found yourself stopped against another chair, "think y'can talk to me like that? hmm?" the two of you were centimetres away from touching noses, you could feel his hot breath on your face as he glared down at you. jesus, you forgot how tall he was, even when you're wearing heels.

you gained the confidence to snap at him lowly, "you can't just be calling me a slut rafe." your chest was rapidly rising and falling, rafe noticed the way your tits were moving as you breathed. he scoffed, having no shame in looking right down your top, "hard to say something like that when you're standing here with your tits on display like this." he met your eyes again, his once angry expression replaced with a smirk.

he tugged at his sleeves again, readjusting one that had slipped down, you looked down at the veins trailing from his hands that disappeared into the white shirt.

"y/n." he said, calm dripping from his tone, you realised you had been staring too long, heat pooling in your tummy currently couldn't compare to the heat rushing into your cheeks. "i catch you every time y'know."

your lips parted, every time? "what're you talking about." you demanded with narrowing eyes, crossing your arms in what little room you had, only making your tits perk up more, he shamelessly shifted his gaze down again until you lifted a hand to grab his jaw, something that shocked him and he instantly grabbed your wrist and paused.

the two of you were stood there, lips centimetres away, touching felt like fire between you and the look in both of your eyes was all the confirmation the two of you needed.

rafe's grip slipped only to replant his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a searing kiss. your hands slipped up his chest desperately, much to your embarrassment, but you could feel his body shudder at your touch. you both wanted this. badly.

his other hand snaked around your waist, pulling you in tightly, you melted into him, weakening over how good his touch felt. he started then tugging your shirt, trying to undo the buttons, you helped him quickly before slipping it off and starting on his shirt.

rafe now had you under him, down to nothing but your panties, even your bra was somewhere on the floor, rafe in just some boxers. you groaned into the kiss as he pressed his growing boner against your sensitive clit.

he slipped a hand down your body, his fingers landing on your sopping panties as he began to rub circles where you were most sensitive. you twitched under his touch and you could feel the cocky smirk as he kissed you. in a second it had gone from his fingers inside you to his dick now rubbing through your folds, rafe didn't have his chest against you anymore, he was watching as your pussy clenched around nothing, desperate for him.

he scoffed, "i knew you were a fuckin' slut." just as you rolled your eyes, he slipped his fat tip in, now having to bully the rest of his huge cock into your tight pussy. "jesus, shit, how're you this fuckin' tight" he groaned, finally sliding his length in to the hilt.

you gasped when he brushed that spongey spot in your cervix, "yeah? you like that shit bitch?" he grunted, now mercilessly driving his cock into you at an unforgivable speed. your eyes were rolling back, twitching as you hadn't even had a second to get used to his length.

"ugh fuck- move 'm getting on top" you demanded, he didn't argue, swapping spots with you so that you were now just above his dick, pulling your panties to the side again as you very slowly lowered onto his thick cock. he whined out, eyes going wide when he realised what he just let slip.

"who's the slut now?" you taunted, beginning to bounce on his dick, your tits bouncing with you. rafe reached up and pawed at one, rolling your nipple between his fingers harshly, you hissed but soon whined at the added stimulation. he grinned mischievously, releasing you nipple to lower his fingers to your clit.

he watched you proudly, rubbing in circles for a moment while your eyes rolled back as you continued to fuck yourself on his cock. he pinched your clit, you yelped at the feeling but the way your pussy started clenching around rafe's dick only made him do it more.

your movements grew tired, rafe noticed and planted his hands under your thighs, securing you before slamming his cock into you at a rapid pace. all you could do was go almost limp, feeling his huge dick pistoning deep inside you. "my dick's splittin' you open. you fuckin' like that shit?" his hips snap, and you squeal, your whole body jolting with every movement.

you grabbed onto a veiny arm, the sight making you chew at your lower lip as rafe continued to jackhammer into your begging cunt. "ugh- you're such a fucking piece of shit, its a shame, your dick is soo big." you groaned, digging your nails into his forearm. he smirked at your admission, repositioning himself to now sit up so your faces were inches away again.

he moved his hands to your hips, gripping harshly, you slid your arms around to the back of his shoulders, beginning to bounce and grind again. he tipped his head back letting a little "oh baby" slip.

you grinned as you were nearing your release, your pussy beginning to clamp desperately around rafe's dick, his strokes getting sloppy and harsher. his hands dug harder into your hips as you raked your nails across his back, your orgasm ripping through you finally and rafe cumming inside you just as it was ending.

you buried your face in the crook of his neck as he continued to fuck his cum into you, an evil smirk swiping across his face. when the two of you had finally steadied, reality hit like a truck.

you paused, lifting your head slowly, the two of you locked eyes and you quickly slipped off of him, taking several steps back.

"you- shit. no one can fucking know." you seethed before snatching your clothes off the floor, cursing at the fact that you were going to have to sit in cum filled panties until you could get your bigger suitcase from under the plane.

rafe scoffed, "i'm not the only one who was fucking there. and for the record i agree, this is not happening again. fuck."

but of course he was lying.

[munsonsmixtapes]

What Is This Feeling?

Fiyero Tigelaar x fem!reader

summary: you and Fiyero mistake your attraction to each other as loathing.

From the moment you laid eyes on Fiyero, you loathed him. Your classes were important to you and it seemed like all he cared about was having fun which was obvious by the way he never paid attention in class and the fact that he had been kicked out of every other school he had been to. Everything was a joke to him. He never paid attention in class, always giggling with Glinda about whatever they talked about.

And Fiyero felt the same. He hated how seriously you took everything, never wanting to have just a little fun, which you think he had too much of. You were always either studying or taking some sort of notes. He didn’t understand why you were always so focused on your studies, why you were so tightly wound. He was wondering if he could help you with that somehow.

It seemed like the two of you made your rivalry everyone else’s problem, constantly arguing during meals or in the class you had together, always disrupting the peace between all of the other students. It seemed like everyone but the two of you thought that your feud had been a little silly. And maybe it was, but neither of you saw it that way.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Fiyero was only doing the whole thing just to get a rise out of you. He just wanted to push your buttons, partly because of how easy it was to rile you up, but mostly because you were just so hot when you were angry. There were so many times when he was close to pushing you up against the wall and kissing you stupid. But he never did. He couldn’t. You clearly didn’t like him and a kiss between the two of you would have only ever remained a fantasy.

And because of how obvious it was how into you Fiyero was, Glinda made it her mission to make you no longer a romantic option for him. So she made multiple attempts to set you up with other students at Shiz, but to no avail. You could see what she was doing and didn’t know why it was so important for her to get rid of you when you didn’t even like Fiyero like that anyway. How clear did you have to make it to her that he was all hers.

But still, because she wasn’t totally wicked, Glinda invited you to the Ozdust Ballroom where a lot of the other students were going to do that night. And even though you were suspicious of her intentions, you still decided to go, putting on your prettiest dress and hopping on the last boat that was going to take you to the destination.

The second you got inside, you descended the stairs, completely fascinated by the place, completely unaware of the way Fiyero was looking at you, like you had hung the moon. He was so captivated by you and the pretty blue dress you were wearing that caught the light perfectly. He had to have you and he had to have you right then. It was killing him knowing that you could have possibly gone back to someone else’s room and slept with someone who wasn’t him.

You were distracted by his outfit as you approached him. It was covered in different shapes and bright colors and you couldn’t believe how good it looked on him, almost as if it were made for him specifically. And knowing Fiyero, it probably was.

You’d never tell him, but he looked good, hot, even. He always did and you hated how good he always looked on everything he wore, how he made the school uniform work for him.

“Y/n,” he and Glinda said at the same time, his tone soft, his smile bright, while Glinda looked very unhappy to see you there, sounding nothing but surprised to see you there despite being the one who invited you.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as if reading Fiyero’s mind. This didn’t seem like your kind of scene, but then his eyes caught onto the book in your hand and he couldn’t help but smile at how cute he thought you were. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and you brought a book? The two of you couldn’t have been more different.

“You invited me,” you reminded the blonde and Fiyero whipped around to look at her in confusion.

“Did you?” He asked, genuinely confused as to why she would have done that since she had been about as subtle as a gun about how much she had disliked you.

“I did,” Glinda nodded with a smile, hoping, praying that it will score her some brownie points with the man standing next to her. Her arm hooked around his, but he quickly pulled away, offering his hand to you, completely catching both you and Glinda off guard.

“Would you like to dance with me, Miss l/n?” he asked and you leaned to the side to lock eyes with the blonde, silently asking if it was okay. She nodded, accepting defeat and Fiyero led you over to the floor where the other dancing bodies were gathered.

You didn’t know what you were doing nor why you were doing it with Fiyero, but you had to admit that you were intrigued. You thought he was into Glinda so you didn’t know why he had offered the invitation to you. That was one thing you were finally going to figure out. Well, two, since you wanted to know so badly why he had disliked you.

You tried to move to the beat as you hugged your book to your chest, wanting to protect it as you moved back and forth, trying to not get hit by the people around you. Fiyero let out a laugh and gently took the book from you, stuffing it into the pocket inside his jacket for safekeeping before taking your hands, pulling you to him.

You tried to follow his dancing as he moved so fluidly, something you could never do. And Fiyero wanted to help, wanted to show you just how easy it was to move the way that he did, especially when he was holding onto you.

Fiyero hesitantly hovered his hands over your waist as if asking permission and you nodded, deciding to give it to him. His hands rested on your hips gently and he moved them back and forth the way he was, both of you looking down at the way he was helping you dance. It wasn’t a way you had ever done it, so fluid and…pretty.

“Just like that,” he said and went to let go, but you grabbed his arms, holding his hands in place. You couldn’t let him go, not then.

“Stay,” you tell him, your voice soft for the first time when it came to speaking to him. “Please.”

“Of course,” he nodded, not able to fight the smile on his face as the two of you moved together around the dance floor.

Before that night, you never would have imagined talking to, let alone dancing with Fiyero as he spun you around the dance floor, the two of you laughing as you did so. You were actually having fun and you realized that when you weren’t arguing with him, Fiyero was actually really funny and sweet.

He spun you out and once he spun you back in, you found yourself pressed up against a wall, gasping as you took in the position he had put you in. You watched his eyes ick back and forth from your lips back to your eyes and you pressed yourself against the wall even further.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked and even though it should have been obvious by his staring at your mouth, your eyes widened at his question.

“Fiyero-“ you cut yourself off, unsure how to answer him, unsure as to why you wanted to let him kiss you.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes immediately. “I should have-“ before he can get too far, you grab onto the collar of his jacket and pull his face down to yours, slotting your lips between his before pulling away, fully aware of what you’d just done.

“I’m sorry.” Now you’re the one to apologize and Fiyero smiles in response.

“Don’t be,” he shook his head. “That was-do that again.” You do as he says and grab onto his collar, kissing him again, but this time for longer and with more intention. He was quick to respond, wrapping his arms around your waist as he smiled against your lips since this was what he’d been wanting for a while now.

His lips were pillowy soft and you’re convinced that you could kiss him for hours and not get tired of it. And Fiyero seemed to want the same as he helped you wrap your legs around him as he licked into your mouth, letting it roam around.

You let out a moan, your hands moving to his hair as he pulled you away from the wall, the two of you disappearing down the hallway as he took you somewhere more private. You were still holding onto him as he pressed you into a corner, trying to hide you from the other party goers. He wanted you all to himself and couldn’t bear the thought of you in another man’s arms.

“What are we doing?” You asked and Fiyero didn’t like your tone. It was demanding, almost accusatory. You were so sweet just a moment ago and now that fire, the pure hatred was back in your eyes.

“I thought we were kissing,” he replied with a laugh, his hands resting on your waist. Your face twisted into a glare and that only made him want to laugh more, but he was more set on making you smile again. He liked seeing it and wished you would do it more often. At least, for him.

“I mean this,” you referred to him then yourself. “We hate each other, Fiyero.”

“I’ve never hated you,” he corrected. “In fact, I really like you. I was only teasing you because you’re pretty hot when you’re mad, especially at me. I actually happen to think you’re sweet.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “And smart.” Your other cheek. “And fucking gorgeous.” This time, your lips, a gentle, featherlight touch, giving you every chance to push him off. But you didn’t. You just stood there, letting Fiyero kiss you before he pulled away.

You were glad he was still holding onto you because if he hadn’t been, you would have melted at his words. You never thought he felt that way about you and knowing he was just trying to get a rise out of you because he thought you were hot when you were mad only made your panties damp.

Your arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled away, an apologetic look on his face. Now you felt silly for being mad at him when all the hating was one-sided. And deep down, you didn’t even really hate Fiyero. As you had gotten to know him, the hatred quickly faded, but you were forced to pretend that you disliked him because feeling any other way towards him felt odd.

But now that you were looking at him, that soft look on his face, everything but comfort and fondness melted away and all you could do was kiss him, smiling into it as soon as your lips touched his.

“What is this feeling?” You asked against his lips and Fiyero chuckled.

“I believe it’s called love,” he replied, setting you down on your feet and taking you by the hand. “Now come on, my love, let’s go somewhere more private.”

And Fiyero led you somewhere you could be alone, talking about everything and nothing between kisses, holding each other in your arms, deciding that was the only place you wanted to be for the rest of your lives.

[turtles-invoked]

“How come you can’t fly?” Jack asks Castiel randomly one afternoon. Him, Jack, Dean, and Sam sit at the long table in the library, the brothers sharing a beer, Jack and Cas just happy to be in their company.

Well, maybe it wasn’t as random as it seemed. Jack was curious about The Apocalypse after Dean’s possession. They explained it all in as much detail as they could, Sam even offering as much as loosing his soul and how that affected him, and then how it affected Cas. Which lead to the Leviathan’s and then somehow they ended up talking about their time in Purgatory which naturally lead to Naomi’s control over Cas and then Metatron’s betrayal which leaves them where they’re up to now at the Great Fall… at least that’s what they’ve been calling it.

All eyes turn to Cas. The conversation comes to a halt at the somewhat intrusive question. An uncomfortable, bubbling feeling begins to roll and churn in his stomach as his face begins to heat up.

He opens his mouth to start explaining but Sam had begun to answer for him, “because he fell with the angels.” He says it as if it was obvious, but when he looks around and takes in Dean’s frown and Cas’ squinted eyes and slight head tilt to the left he starts to doubt himself, “…right?”

Cas completely forgot that Sam was particularly unwell at the time of the Great Fall. No one ever spoke about his lack of wings after he became human and they were a little busy when Cas finally got what little of his Grace was left. Of course Sam wouldn’t know. Dean doesn’t even know it all, so how would Sam?

“No… I uh…” Cas started and looked around at all the faces watching him; Sam’s confused frown, Jack’s intrigued yet a little wary squint, and Dean’s sympathetic eyes.

“When I gave Metatron my grace…” he starts slowly, swallowing the lump in his throat, “naturally, I lost all of my powers, including my wings…”

“But you got it back?” Jack asks, still confused.

“Not all of it. What was left after the spell wasn’t enough to heal my body immediately.”

“But you said over time it will regenerate,” Jack argues.

“Correct, and it has, but-”

“Then you should be able to fly,” he says hopefully.

Cas shifts a little uncomfortably in his seat. Jack was looking so hopeful at him that it almost felt worse to crush that than it did to admit what really happened.

“Theoretically, yes…” he starts and spares a glance at Dean. The brothers hadn’t said anything more since Cas begun his story and it unnerved him a little.

“Since I never technically fell with the rest of the angels, my Grace should have healed them… but there is more to it than that.”

“Wait a second-” Sam cuts in leaning forward in his seat, “you didn’t fall with the angels?”

“No, at the time I was already human.”

Sam looks at him as if he’s trying to piece together everything but nothing quite makes sense.

Jack interjects this time, frowning as he asks, “you gave Metatron your grace?”

“He was played,” Dean says simply, a tinge of frustration in his tone.

Cas sighs in agreement, “while Sam was attempting to close the gates of Hell, I thought I was sealing Heaven…”

“You were going to lock all the angels away? Including you?” Jack interjects again.

This time Cas’ eyes snap to Dean who was staring straight at him. His expression remained stoic and neutral but his eyes were a little bit wider, more attentive, desperate for the answer too. Of course he wasn’t going to leave Dean, but they had never had a chance to have that conversation.

“No,” Cas says sincerely, then turns his attention back to Jack, “No, I was- am unwelcome in Heaven. Though, I would have stayed on Earth regardless.”

“Jack, we’re getting off track,” Sam points out waving his hands to backtrack to the original plot.

“Right, yes. I was tracking Metatron when a couple of his followers found me. I was captured an-”

“Alone?” Jacks asks surprised.

“Yes.”

“As a human?”

“No. No we found Metatron previously and captured him, however, he knew where the rest of my grace was. I was… dying… and at the time Metatron was cuffed… we didn’t- I didn’t think he could escape. He was weak but he did, and I was trying to… find him when some of his very few remaining loyalties found me. I was still weak…” he trails off becoming nervous again.

“Wait- you had Metatron, but you let him go so you could get your grace back!?” Sam asks incredulously.

Dean slaps his arm to shut him up, but Cas can feel the frustrated anger in Sam’s stare.

“For what it’s worth, I did not agree. It was Hannah who insisted. I assumed wrongly that the cuffs could contain him,” Cas feels his face flush with frustration. He was starting to lose track of his story with all the interruptions and emotions beginning to swell in his chest.

“All of this could have been avoided!” Sam exclaims.

“Yeah, and Cas would be dead!” Dean interjects for the first time since Cas started talking.

“I would not have survived much longer without it, I am sorry to disappoint,” he replies curtly and returns his attention to Jack’s big pleading eyes.

“What happened when they found you?” Jack asks softly.

“He…” Cas swallows the lump in his throat before he continues, “… he bound and tortured me…” he looked at his intertwined hands, talking to the table. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, could feel the thumping in his ears as the blood rushed through his body, the embarrassment working its way through his veins.

“He cut into me with my own angel blade, but he soon realised I would not give up Sam and Dean very easily, so he…. Resorted to more… intense… measures…” Cas swallows again… his mouth beginning to dry, and his eyes burn ever so slightly. Visions of his shirt ripped opened and bloodied, flashed through his mind. He could feel the tight, pulling, bounding of his wrists as he was suspended from the ceiling, toes barely touching the ground; the stinging of each carve into his skin. He even remembers his relief when he thought they had given up, but the devastation as he realised what they had planned to do next.

“Cas, you don’t have to talk about it…” Dean says carefully.

Cas shakes his head to try and push the memories away, “I thought when they stopped they had given up. But how wrong was I…”

He shifts in his seat, leaning back so he’s not so hunched over, his hands now in his lap, still clenched together.

“They sliced down my back… extracted my wings and-” Cas inhaled shakily before blowing it out, the corners of his eyes beginning to prickle.

“We get it,” Dean says softly. Cas looks up and meets his eyes. Dean offers a sympathetic smile while Jack looks like he may pass out. His face has paled a little, mouth hung open in disbelief,’“I didn’t think that was possible…”

“It was… excruciating. Had Hannah not found me when she did…” Cas looks sheepishly to Dean, “I would not have lasted long at all…”

“It’s okay,” Dean says in that same gentle tone.

“Cas- I-” Sam was at a loss for words, “I had no idea.”

“Of course not,” Cas replies a little too short.

“Have you tried to heal them?” Jack says quietly.

Cas gives him a flat smile, “yes. As well as Hannah and Gabriel. It appears they are damaged beyond repair…”

“May I try?”

All Cas can do is shake his head.

“Please let me try, Cas?”

At the same time as Dean says, “that’s enough,” Cas pushes his chair out and mumbles an, “excuse me,” not looking back at the table as he exits the room and heads for his own.

He can hear Jack and Dean arguing lightly with each other, but he pays it no more attention than he does the tears welling up in his eyes. When he approaches his room he shuts the door gently behind him and leans against it, sighing out deeply as the tears fall from his eyes freely.

He wipes them away and laughs to himself at his own humanity. ‘An angel crying,’ he thinks to himself. My, how far had he fallen indeed.

A knock at his door pulls him out of his self pity as well as a gentle soft call of his name, “Cas?” Cas could pick out Dean’s voice anywhere.

Cas wiped his face one more time before kicking off the door and opening it.

“You good?” Dean asks leaning against the frame.

Cas nods and tries to put on his best smile. But Dean raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms over his chest, looking straight through his facade.

Cas sighs and steps to the side to let him in, and shuts the door behind them.

He doesn’t have much in his room. His bed hasn’t been used in a couple of days, his few personal items are the books he’s snagged from the library to read while the boys sleep. Very bare compared to Dean’s.

Dean walks in and takes a seat at the edge of the bed facing Cas.

“Talk to me,” he says quietly, his hands folded between his legs.

Cas takes a seat next to Dean, hands clasped, and in his lap but he. Twiddles his thumbs, a nervous tick he developed as a human that he can’t get rid of of, “I-” but he doesn’t know what to say. Or where to start. Or how to explain it. Or if he even wants too. Because as soon as he starts to think about it again, the heaviness is back in his chest, and the warmth in his eyes returns, “-I can’t…”

He takes a moment to compose himself, to settle the heavy beating of his heart, and stares up at the ceiling. He takes a couple of breaths before looking over at Dean, his deep green eyes studying him, not judging, but observing, paying attention to every little move Cas makes. Cas looses his breath looking at him and how alluring his gaze is, so he focuses back on his hands and whispers, “I don’t believe this is something Jack can fix.”

“Why not let him try?”

“Would I be of more use to you if he succeeded?” Cas snaps before he could think and looks over to Dean again. The hurt in his eyes not gone unnoticed, but the pending answer in them tugged on his heart.

“It’s not about you being useful. It’s about you being you,” he replies in his defensive tone.

Cas sighs and looks back down to his hands. When he first lost his ability to fly it felt a lot like imprisonment. Human transportation is slow and tedious. Dean’s music and rambling did pass the time rather pleasantly, and he will admit that he does like his off key singing, enjoys it even, however it was no comparison to being able to “zap” places in a matter of milliseconds. The freedom to go anywhere in the universe at anytime whenever he wanted. Even after all these years, driving still makes him feel claustrophobic at times, something that will still probably take a while to get used to.

“Cas, you got to know you’re not here to be useful right?” Cas looks back up at him. The frown set in his brows mimicing the slight tinge of panic and worry in his voice.

Cas squints his eyes and frowns a little himself, “Of course I do,” and looks back down at his lap, “that was unfair of me to say, I apologise.”

“Good,” Dean says rather shortly.

“Besides,” Dean starts again, bumping their shoulders together, “I hated being zapped places anyways.”

Cas chuckles a little at his response, remembering Dean’s complaints of not being able to poop after they travelled together, or the uneasiness he felt in his stomach, or the one time his ear didn’t stop ringing for a whole day. Humans weren’t really designed for teleportation. But still, the weight of what he’s lost weighs heavily on his heart and mind. Always there in amongst the background noise. Deep down he knows he’s not kept around to be useful, but the guilt still lingers in the space between them whenever they have a long drive ahead, or rare ingredients to find for whatever spell they need.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“What for?”

“For telling Metatron where to find you and Sam…”

“But you didn’t…”

Cas turns to him then, “but I would have. I almost had. And for that, I am sorry.”

“Cas-”

“No Dean. I think about that moment all too often. The pain is something I will never forget, but I would have never forgiven myself had something happened to you because of my wrong doings… again.”

Dean didn’t try to protest again. Instead he places his hand over Cas’. It wasn’t until then he realises how tightly he had clenched them together. He allowed himself to relax a little, the warmth and slight clamminess of Dean’s touch grounding him.

“Can I see?” Deans voice, barely above a whisper, breaks through their silence.

“What?” Cas asks, more shocked that Dean would even want to see his broken wings than he is that he asked at all.

A blush fills Dean’s face faintly as he pulls his hand away but in spite of his obvious embarrassment he asks again, “can I see them?”

“I… it’s- they’re not… visually appealing…” he says, trying to swallow the dryness in his throat, “I don’t think you’ll be able to see them anyway…”

“So?” Dean asks, pleading green eyes begging Cas to fulfil his request.

Cas’s heart beat heavier and faster in his chest, his stomach turned a little making him feel slightly nauseated but he stood before he could talk himself out of it, because how could he deny Dean anything?

“Fine, but not here. I need more space…” and leads the way out of his room and down the hallway towards the garage.

“More space…?” He hears Dean mumble behind him.

Sam and Jack were no longer in the common areas, and for that he was thankful. Between Jack’s sympathetic need to help, and Sam’s guilt filled eyes, he’d rather not have to face either of them.

Cas opens the door to the garage and lets Dean in first. As he closes the door after him as Dean turns the lights on, but Cas immediately turns them back off, plunging the room into complete darkness, “dude?”

“No lights,” Cas says walking passed Dean towards the impala.

“Then how will you even se-”

Dean stops abruptly as Cas turns the headlights of the impala on, plunging the room into a soft yellow glow. He turns around to face him, still standing at the door.

Dean, after a moment of adjustment, makes his way over with a confused frown on his face, “oh, yeah, sure, we can’t use the free electricity, but yeah, let’s drain baby’s battery,” he mumbles under his breath, but Cas can hear it regardless of his volume.

“Humans cannot perceive an angels true form, as you already know, but you can see the shadows…” he starts, shrugging off his trench coat, folding it neatly and places it on the hood of the car.

“Shadows?” Dean asks, arms crossed while he watches Cas. He shrugs off his suit jacket and ignores the fluttering in his stomach as Dean’s eyes track his every move.

“Yes, Dean, you will only be able to see the shadows they create, not how they actually look,” he folds the jacket up neatly too and starts undoing his tie.

“Wait, Cas, hang on,” Dean says now standing in front of him, “are you-? I was asking about your scars…”

Cas freezes, stomach dropping, his fingers still on the knot of his tie, and looks into Dean’s eyes. A wave of embarrassment floods through him and warms his face and chest, definitely reddening.

“You were willing to show me your wings?” He asks incredulously, as if it’s the most sacred thing that Cas could do for him. And it kind of is. Exposing himself this willingly, and openly, is kind of intimate. He has never voluntarily showed anyone or any angel his wings without the intent of intimidating them. He imagines this is how humans would feel when they are perceived completely naked for the first time, excited but terrified all at once.

“I-” he tries to speak but his voice cracks, stopping him. How could he not have understood what Dean was asking of him? Does Dean even realise how profound it is for him to show him his wings? Would he even appreciate the weight of such an act?

“Cas,” he says breathlessly and my goodness does Cas love the way his name sounds that way, “Isn’t this… a big deal?”

Cas swallows the lump in his throat and continues undoing his tie, more so as something for his hands to do instead of standing still and awkward, “…yeah.” He says pulling the fabric from around his neck and rolls it up in his hands.

“You… are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to do this…” Dean says taking the tie out of his hands and leaning into his line of sight to catch his eyes.

Cas takes a breath and looks Dean up and down, “I trust you,” he says slowly and takes the folded tie back from Dean and places it with his other clothes, beginning to undo the buttons to his shirt.

He untucks the fabric from his pants to reach the last button and shrugs himself out of the sleeves, catching the way Dean averts his gaze when he notices Cas looking at him.

A slight flush fills Dean’s cheeks as he awkwardly runs his fingers through his hair and down to the back of his neck, “well… what do you need?”

Cas grabs him by the elbow and pulls Dean along to the front of the car, standing back to the hood between the headlights, “your patience.” Is all he says as he turns to walk towards the empty wall a few meters in front of the car, but Dean grabs a hold of his arm before he could walk away.

“Jesus, Cas,” is all he says and Cas can’t help but tense, knowing he’s looking at the pair of pink parallel scars that run down from just below his shoulder to half way down his back. From what Cas could see by looking in the bathroom mirror, they’re thick and viscous, and were nearly impossible to heal due to the angelicness of the wound.

Dean drops his grip on him and Cas takes it as his cue to continue on, so he does, ignoring the heat in his face and tingling where Dean held him.

He stands about a meter in front of the wall, just enough space for the shadows to appear higher than his body so Dean could actually see them, and kneels to the ground. He sits on his feet and place his hands on his thighs and hangs his head low, he doesn’t want to see the look on Dean’s face when he realises just how broken he really is.

So he closes his eyes and relaxes his upper body and summons his grace. He takes a moment to prepare himself before imagining his wings unfolding and extending wide, like a big stretch first thing in the morning.

His left wing opens easily, smoothly and wide. His right, however, cracks a little like the popping of the knuckles in his fingers, and pinches at the joint before expanding out. Cas only winces slightly as a shock of pain runs down the bone and into his shoulder blade as he stretches it out for the first time in months. A wave of instant relief washes over him as he lengthens them both wide and high and displays them for Dean.

A gasp in front of him has him squeezing his eyes shut and his stomach stirring. He knows they’re not pretty to look at. His right has no feathers left, just soft fur like skin covering the bone. It’s bent in the middle where the bone was forcefully snapped, and a couple of inches shorter at the end where Metatron’s followers had begun to amputate it. His left one, however, has a couple of feathers that have slowly begun to grow back along the tip of his wing, some long, some very short and some of them fluffy. Most of them fall out after a few weeks of growth, keeping their length short. Some have fallen out now as he’s opened them up, the floor to his left littered with white gold specs of a fur like substance, almost like dust, in the reflection of the lights.

The burning returns behind his eyelids and his heart stutters in his chest. Time feels like it moves far too slow as Cas kneels on the ground before Dean, as bare as an angel can be before a human. He keeps his head low and his eyes clenched until Dean whispers, “Castiel,” into the thickness of the air between them.

He can’t help but look up at Dean through his tear filled eyes at the echo of his full name on Dean’s lips. A name he hasn’t heard Dean call him since the angels fell. A name that, he’s been called for centuries, all of a sudden sounds foreign to his own ears.

But Dean’s eyes don’t meet his, they dart from his left to his right, taking in what little of his true from he can see. Wide, and curious, and beautiful green eyes sparkling in the refraction of light coming from Castiel’s grace.

He bows his head again and mutters low on his breath, “I did say they are not pleasing to observe.”

“No,” Dean says earnestly. Cas doesn’t lift his head when he hears Dean’s boots on the floor treading closer his way. Not even as Dean kneels on the floor in front of him. But two hands cup his cheeks ever so gently, as if he were made of glass, and slowly lifts his head up to meet his gaze. This close, Cas can see the blue of his own eyes shining back at him through Dean’s, bright and blue and…

“No, they’re beautiful,” Dean declares breathlessly.

Cas’s mouth opens slightly in astonishment as his eyes well up and his vision blurs softly.

“You’re beautiful,” Dean whispers as the tears fall silently from Cas’s eyes, down his cheeks, and into the palm of Dean Winchester’s hands, “thank you,” he adds and the admiration in Dean’s voice makes it harder for Cas to keep himself together, as a soft sob escapes his lips.

Dean wipes away his eyes with the pads of his thumb before pulling his hands away to rest on his own thighs and Cas looses his breath at the sight of the righteous man on his knees before him; open, and authentic, and nothing but the purest of intentions.

“Dean…” Cas starts but doesn’t know what to say, or how to express his gratitude.

Dean shakes his head, “no, Cas. You don’t have to say anything,” he says in a low hushed tone, his eyes flicking back up to the broken one.

“…Does it… hurt?” He asks timidly.

Cas nods slowly, “A little…”

Dean nods at that and squints at the shadow, brows deepening ever so slightly.

“What is it?” Cas asks tilting his head to the side, trying to get a better read on him.

“No-nothing. I- I can kinda see ‘em,” he stutters still squinting.

Cas squirms a little under the scrutiny, “how do you mean…?”

“There’s a…” he pauses, perhaps trying to find the right words, “A-a shimmer? I guess? Kinda like.. looking through water…” he says pinching his eyes as if focusing too hard put strain on them.

Cas couldn’t help but smile tenderly at the man before him. Very rare is it that a human can see an angels true form. Even a slight peak at such a being will burn the eyes right out of their socket, melting the surrounding tissue and vessels. He’s not sure whether it has to do with Dean being the chosen vessel himself, or their profound bond, but a part of him isn’t even surprised at all that Dean can see that much. He wonders if maybe he could perceive more…

“Try and touch them?” Cas suggests quietly.

Dean gapes at him, “what?”

Cas blushes and adverts his gaze down to his hands, “I don’t know if you can… but you may try.”

He chances a look back up to Dean’s face, staring mesmerised back at him, “You sure?”

Cas can only nod his encouragement. He watches Dean process his request, the way he licks his lips before gulping and taking a deep breath as he glances up at Cas’ unharmed wing. And then ever so slowly, almost like if he moved too fast he would scare Cas away, he reaches his hand up. Cas doesn’t think anything would happen, maybe a slight ripple in the current, or a slight rush of wind as he passes through the ‘shimmer’ but when Dean’s fingertips graze the surface of delicate skin, Cas gasps. Dean’s pulls his hand back suddenly and almost like an electric shock running through his body, Cas squints his eyes closed as the most intense wave of pleasure coursed a through him. He clenches his fist and squeezes his eyes shut, and steadies his breathing.

“Cas!” Dean calls out but to Cas it sounds distant and muffled. Dean calls for him again and Cas snaps his eyes open, Dean’s hand on his shoulder, the other on his knee. He hadn’t noticed he had put his hands on him, and now his face is mere inches from his, “hey, what the hell, man?”

“I don’t know,” he sighs shaky and a little panicked, “I didn’t think anything would happen,” he admits sheepishly.

“Are you okay?” Dean pulls himself back but his eyes don’t leave his face, worried for what might happen if he looks away.

“I’m fine. Are you alright?” Cas gives Dean a once over. He appears to be fine…

“Yeah, no, I’m good, I thought I hurt you…” he admits and Cas sighs in relief, glad no harm came to Dean.

“No, no it didn’t hurt…” he says, confused, remembering what he felt… “it was…” electric? Chilling? “…overwhelming…” he settles on.

Dean nods, still not entirely convinced.

“I would like for you to try again.”

“Oh- n-no, no way,” Dean says moving to stand, but Cas reaches out, his hand grabbing his thigh stopping him in his tracks, “Please,” but the sudden movement causes Cas’s wings to flow with the movement making him wince and grunt in pain, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth, at the ache running down the right side of his body.

“Cas-”

“I’m okay. I just moved to quick,” he says slowly pulling back, Dean still watching his every move.

“Cas I- I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wont,” he says assuredly sitting back up straight.

Dean still looks unconvinced though, his brows frowned in a deep, worried, line, jaw clenched, eyes wide and watching, “stop me if I do.” It’s not a question, but a demand. He’s telling him to stop him, knowing that if he asks, Cas would probably let him go on even if it hurts. So Cas nods his agreement and braces himself, trying to keep his body relaxed, expecting the sensations this time to come.

He keeps his eyes opened this time as Dean’s hand reaches out, trembling ever so slightly, and pauses right before he makes contact. They lock eyes and Cas can see the anxiety, plain as day, in Dean’s. He gives him the smallest upturn of his lips, encouraging him as gently as he can to continue. He hears Dean suck in a breath before ever so slowly reaching forward again until his fingertips, in a feather like touch, graze Cas’s skin ever so lightly. A feeling, almost like a tickle, dances on the skin where his fingers sit before it bolts like a shiver down his spine, soft but intense, new, and unfamiliar.

Cas shudders at the feeling, as Dean applies more pressure, still soft, still gentle, and strokes up just a little. Cas can feel the feathers pull and turn under Dean’s fingertips and it sends an almost feverish feeling down his wing and into his chest. Cas can’t help but gasp at the same time Dean exhales a, “woah.” His eyes begin to prick in the corners, and his breathing picks up pace as his grace begins to quiver, a slight tremor forming throughout his body. He squeezes his eyes shut as to not blind Dean by the bright white light glowing from within them, as a faint running softly echoes throughout the garage.

Dean pulls his hand back nervously, “hey,” he says softly, “what’s happening?”

“Sorry,” Cas whispers, tensing, trying to regain control over his grace before his reaction accelerates further gaining the attention of the other occupants of the bunker. His fists clench hard against his thighs, the muscles in his arms so tense they feel like they’re burning. He tries to focus on breathing but his body feels heavy, almost like he’s being crushed. The air feels thick, as if he’s underwater, though he can feel his body shaking, struggling to contain him. He mutters a few words of Enochian low to himself repeatedly in an attempt ground himself, but it’s not until Dean’s hands, one on his right shoulder, another on his left thigh just above his knee squeeze him gently that he can feel his body calming down, relaxing once again.

“Sorry,” Cas whispers again, his face warm and wet. He wipes at his cheek and looks at his hand, expecting a crimson streak of blood, but it’s just water, tears. He hadn’t even noticed he was crying… again. He had never done such a thing in front of Dean, or ever really, and now he’s up to number three for the day alone.

“What just happened?” Dean asks pulling back and giving Cas back his space.

Cas wipes his face dry and folds his wings back away, cringing again as his broken one collapses weakly into itself and tucks away. His timing couldn’t be more perfect, as the door to the garage swings open, and in storms Sam with an Angel Blade gripped firmly in his hand and Jack standing ready behind him, “what the hell was that?” He demands walking further into the garage, looking around. Cas’ stomach sinks with anxiety, and nervous disappointed that he had created enough of a disturbance to concern Sam and Jack.

Dean stands up then, leaving Cas still kneeling on the ground. He takes the opportunity to lean into his shadow, blocking the headlights from his view.

“Um… what’re you guys doing?” Jack asks curiously taking in the sight of a half naked kneeling Cas in front of Dean.

“Nothing,” Dean says in his usual gruff macho tone that implied ‘none of your damn business’ as he steps to the side to block the boy’s view of Cas.

Sam raises his eyebrows at the sight of them, and what a sight that must be. It doesn’t help that Cas is flushed and a little out of breath either…

“Are we interrupting sex?” Jack asks amusedly, and honestly, Cas can’t even blame him for coming to the conclusion. That doesn’t stop him from leaning from behind Dean’s stance to frown at the kid, squinting his eyes slightly as if to say, ‘why would you even ask such a thing.’

Sam scoffs as Dean chokes and sputters for a response other than a defensive, “No.”

“Then what are you doing?” Sam asks chuckling amusedly, the same smirk still plastered on his face as he watches Dean squirm under his gaze.

Dean stammers for a response, clearly uncomfortable sharing with Sam what they were actually doing. Cas takes the opportunity to slowly stand from his position on the floor, brushing off the dust and dirt from his hands onto his pants. He waves his hands over his knees and within a matter of seconds, his pants are clean again.

“An exercise in trust,” Cas says walking to meet Dean at the hood of the car, reaching around behind him for his shirt.

“And the sounds just now?” Sam asks, body language becoming defensive.

“Me,” is all Cas offers up, shrugging his shirt back on and begins buttoning it. It’s mundane tasks such as this when he’d rather participate in the experience of doing it himself rather than using his powers.

Sam scoffs at his response, looking away from him, towards Jack, and shakes his head, “fine. Yeah. Okay. Good. Well just… we’ll leave you to it…”

Cas only feels slightly bad as Sam gestures for Jack to follow him, exiting the garage.

Jack looks between Cas and Dean, and smiles cheekily before waving them goodbye and following Sam out of the room.

Dean sighs in relief beside him and turns to face Cas, running a hand through his hair, “jeez, did you have to be so short with him?” He walks over to the door, leaving Cas still buttoning his top, and flicks the overhead lights on.

“Would you rather I have told him what we were doing?” Cas asks, tucking in his shirt to his pants when Dean rejoins him and turns the Impala’s lights off. He did not answer him, though Cas knew that he wouldn’t when he asked it.

Instead he deflects, “can’t you just mojo yourself back into those,” he asks handing Cas his tie.

“Thank you. I prefer the manual labour,” he wraps the tie around his neck, only a little confused on which way it’s supposed to face before the knot is tied, deciding that he doesn’t really care which way it faces, before tucking one side over the other and looping it through.

Dean huffs, and Cas knows he’s watching him mess up the knot. Suddenly aware of the eyes on him, he looses his focus and decides to undo it and mojo it on later.

“Dude, give it here,” he offers and gently swats Cas’ hands out of the way. Cas looks down at Dean’s hands, watching as he carefully measures the length of the fabric, pulling the thicker side down much further than Cas had it before crisscrossing them.

He lifts his head, looking up at Dean then, giving him a little more room at the collar to work with. This close, he could see everything so clearly, so perfectly. How long and fine his eyelashes are, how they perfectly dust the tops of his cheekbones as he focuses on the task at hand. He could see all the different shades of green that made up the iris of Dean’s beautiful eyes. All of the individual hairs that built the perfect stubble across Dean’s jaw. The slight dryness of Dean’s lips and all the fine lines and wrinkles in them. He could practically count all the freckles that glitter Dean’s face. Of course he’s familiar with every single one of them, but it’s still beautiful to be able to carefully examine them this closely. Beautiful. Dean had called him that earlier. And it had made his heart yearn for more, more of Dean, more of their connection, just… more.

Dean clears his throat then and a light flush of pink begins to spread across his cheeks and nose, as he taps Cas’ chest, signifying that he was done. Cas blinks out of his little daze and lookes down at the perfectly tied knot, “thank you.”

Dean smiles a little awkwardly and chuckles nervously taking a couple of steps back to lean against the side of his car.

Cas finishes dressing himself, shrugging on his jacket, followed by his coat and tucking his hands in his pockets and joins Dean, leaning against the frame next to him.

“So uh….” Dean starts, and chuckles nervously, cutting himself off.

Castiel remains silent next to him, allowing him the space to find the words on his own.

“How… what was it like?”

Cas glances at Dean beside him, face flushed, arms folded, one leg crossed over the other. He doesn’t look at him, just stares down at the floor in front of them.

Cas smiles to himself and looks ahead, admiring the vintage cars in front of them, “good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cas sighs. He could practically feel the relief rolling off of Dean.

“So the…” he trails off waving one of his hands in front of him. Cas frowns at his hand, not really sure what he’s asking him but patiently waits for him to continue.

“The shaking… and the ringing…?”

“Yes,” Cas says and nods, looking at the ground in front of him. He feels his face and chest warm as the feelings rush back through him momentarily.

“No one has ever touched them before. It was quite sensitive… overstimulating, if you will.”

“So not painful?”

“No, not at all. Just… overwhelming.”

“Good… that’s… that’s good.”

“It was.”

Silence falls between them, but neither of them move. From the corner of his eye, he watches as Dean looks around the garage, his eyes darting from one object to another, yet he makes no effort to move.

“Would you like some time alone?” He asks, not sure if he’s made Dean uncomfortable or not… He’s gotten pretty well at reading a situation but sometimes, in moments like these, he’s not sure what the appropriate social protocol is.

“No!” He says quickly followed by a nervous laugh, “ah… no. But I think I need to get out for a bit…” he admits pushing himself off the car.

“Come for a drive?” He says patting the roof of his car, leaving his arm resting along the frame, “she needs fuel, and we need snacks.”

Cas nods as Dean opens the door and folds himself in.

Cas takes a breath before pushing himself off and joining him in the vehicle as Dean turns the key and she rumbles to life.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and types away at it whilst the garage opens. Once she’s finished, his shoves his phone back in his pocket and explains, “let Sam know, just in case,” and they make their way through the tunnel, down a few side streets and onto the open road.

With the windows down, whatever tape in the deck turned down low, and the comfortable silence between them, Cas doesn’t feel so trapped. The wind in his face and through his hair feels rather nice, refreshing even, cool against his flushed skin.

Dean beside him looks much more relaxed too, although, he usually always did when they were on the road. His fingers tapping rhythmically against the steering wheel, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the door, half out the window. He looks at peace almost. And he drives like this the short distance to the fuel station.

Cas gets out of the car with Dean and leans against the side while Dean fills it, “I’m thinking jerky, popcorn, and pork rinds. What do you want?” Cas thinks about it for a moment… as a human he enjoyed the tastes of sweet foods, not the greesy stuff or salty stuff Dean liked. But now that he’s himself again, food doesn’t really taste the same… nor does it elicit the same emotional enjoyment… As a human he could ignore the individual molecules, but now it’s hard to get past it. However, their last movie night, the sweet popcorn Dean made him try was rather delicious.

“What was the popped corn we had when we watched the movie with the robots?”

Dean rolls his eyes at him and groans as he hangs the pup back up, “transformers, dude! And it was kettle korn, the caramel flavour I think. Is that what you want?”

“Please.”

They walk in together, Dean stuffing his arms with different flavoured jerkies and popcorn and chips. He makes Cas grab two soft drinks from the fridge and a no sugar flavoured water for Sam and at the counter he grabs a container of plum pie and a salad bowl.

Their items are handed back to them in one big bulging bag that thankfully doesn’t bust as they walk back to the car.

“Wait Cas, before we leave,” Dean stops him just before they part ways to get into the car.

Cas turns to him, curious, but a little worried seeing the frown on his face.

He digs through his pocket and dangles the keys between them, “I want you to drive.”

Cas’ mouth and stomach drops a little in surprise, his heart thumping away heavily in his chest. Dean barely lets Sam drive the impala, and now he’s handing him the keys.

“Dean,” Cas starts but he’s at a loss for words.

“Seriously. You shared something so… so big with me and I want to do the same for you,” his cheeks flush a soft shade of rosey pink at the admission and all Cas can do is stare at him gobsmacked.

“I mean… it’s not really the same thing… but this is all I have,” he says, beginning to backtrack, “and I trust you, too, Cas. I do. So please,” he jingles the keys and Cas reluctantly takes them.

“You don’t have to do this,” is all he says as Dean already walks to the passenger door.

Cas looks down at the silver keychain in his hand and looks back up at Dean who isn’t paying him any attention, or trying not to anyway. He nods to himself and takes his new place in the drivers seat, the weight of what this means to Dean not lost on him. Cas checks his mirrors, only having to adjust the rear view, and turns the key. The car rumbles to life once more, purring under Castiel’s hands. He grips the wheel tight and slowly rolls it out of the station, carful to angle it going down the drive so he doesn’t scrape it before slowly accelerating once on the road.

“You can loosen the death grip,” Dean chuckles from beside him.

Cas becomes aware of how tense he is and wipes his clammy hands, one by one, on his thighs. He adjust his grip and rolls his shoulder slightly, trying to loosen the anxiety in him.

“Sorry…”

“Why are you nervous?”

Cas glances over Dean’s way briefly, their eyes meeting for a slow second before he turns back to the road.

“I am not accustomed to driving and this is your prized possession,” he replies as if it answers all of Dean’s questions.

Dean chuckles softly again.

They pull at a red light and Cas is glad for the break. His hands had started to become sweaty and tight around the wheel again. He wipes them on his pants and returns them as the light flicks to green. As he takes off, a vehicle flies past in front of him, running the red. Cas gasps and slams on the breaks, Dean barely having enough time to brace himself against the dash as Cas narrowly stops in time before they are hit. Cas can’t move. There’s a vehicle behind him, honking, but Cas is struck still, his breathing heavy and hard in his lungs, body rigid.

“Cas, you gotta go buddy,” Dean says to him, but it’s muffled and distant. The car eventually drives around them, honking as they continue, but Cas still can’t move.

Dean gets out and walks around to his side, “shuffle over,” he says but Cas can’t move his hands from the wheel.

Dean reaches in front of him and puts it in park and nudges his shoulder, “move over,” he says again. He gently takes Cas’s hands off of the wheel which snaps Cas back into the moment. He clenches his fists a few times to loosen them up and slides into the passenger seat, his whole body hot and sweaty, uncomfortably so.

Dean drives them out of the intersection and pulls over after they’ve cleared it. He parks the car again and turns to Cas, one hand on his shoulder, the other still on the wheel, “we’re okay.”

Cas nods into his lap as the embarrassed tears well in his eyes.

“You’re okay,” he voices again.

Cas nods into his lap again as a hand gingerly cups his cheek, gently moving his head so he can look at him.

“You are okay.”

Cas takes in a deep breath then and blinks away the tears. He refuses to cry in front of Dean Winchester one more time today.

“You did everything right. I’m not mad. You saved us from a wreck. Okay?”

‘His first near miss,’ he thinks as he huffs out a breath.

“Okay?” Dean presses once more.

“Okay,” Cas whispers back.

“Do you want to keep driving?”

Cas immediately shakes his head, “no. No thank you.”

“That’s okay… but when you feel confident again, we can try again.”

“No thank you,” Cas says turning away to face the passenger window.

Dean squeezes Cas’s shoulder before he turns back in his own seat and pulls them back onto the road, “yes. I have rebuilt this thing from the ground up more times than I can count. That back there, not your fault. And even if that dick did hit us, yes I would be pissed, but not at you. And I would have fixed it, okay. There’s been nothing wrong with my baby that I haven’t been able to fix, okay. So yes, maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but I want to share this with you, okay.”

Cas looks over at Dean then. The sincerity in his voice tugging on his heart.

“Please don’t let this discourage you,” he adds as they share a brief moment of eye contact. All Cas can do is watch Dean. He can’t speak, at a loss for words once more, so he just watches him. Watches his relaxed form even after their near miss, one hand on the wheel, and the other reaches over, palm down in front of Cas. He looks down at it confused but opens both of his anyway, not really sure what Dean’s looking for. Cas looks back over to him as Dean looks over at their hands quickly and takes Cas’ left hand in his, intertwining their fingers and holding on firmly. Cas does the same and he can’t help the small smile that tugs on his lips, a new heaviness swells in his chest.

They drive the rest of the way home like this, Dean only using one hand to park the car back in the garage, and Cas couldn’t help but be amazed at how easily Dean could reverse park one handed. Dean squeezes Cas’s hand as he turns the car off, but he doesn’t let go just yet.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Cas nods, his heart still beating erratically at their intertwined hold, although the feeling is nothing compared to what Dean does next. He squeezes Cas’s hand once more and lifts his hand to his lips. Cas gasps softly as Dean closes his eyes and places a gentle kiss on the back of Cas’s hand.

Dean chuckles nervously as he releases Cas’s hand, “I bet Sam’s waiting on us,” he says low and hushed, neither of them making an effort to move, Cas not wanting their time alone to come to an end. He did forget that it was Sam’s turn to pick what movie they were watching tonight. He never did find his choices interesting, but it would be worth it to spend the evening next to Dean.

They share one last sweet smile before Dean sighs, “come on,” and they join the boys who were already sat in the Dean cave, just about to start the movie without them. Jack on a beanbag to the left of the TV, Sam in the arm chair next to him, leaving Dean to sit in the other arm chair, and Cas takes residence with a pillow to sit on in front of Dean and between his legs. Sometime through the movie, Cas leans his head back against the seat, Dean’s hands running through his hair. He shuts his eyes, and focuses on the sensations, his breathing becoming even, and all thoughts pushed to the back of his brain. And though he may not technically be asleep, it’s as close to it as an angel could get, blessed to be at the hands of Dean Winchester.

[midnight-mourning]

Christmas Spirit

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 12❄️❄️

woof, now we're REAL behind chat, apologies was busy but also like, feeling unwell, but here we are! hope you enjoy :)

Prompt: christmas request! Reader doesn't care for christmas since their relationship with their family isnt great and nearly ever christmas since they moved out included multiple fights or screaming matches; they just want to have a positive association with christmas and don't mind working on a holiday at their crazy but chill job with their favorite animatronic coworkers. And these fellow coworkers intend to make sure this christmas is a postive one even if theres silly mishaps here and there.

Word Count: 2048

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When you realized the date this morning, to say your heart sunk into your chest was an understatement. Sure, maybe it was a bit dramatic to go from chipper and ready for the day, to dragging your feet out the door, but to be fair, this wasn't exactly your favorite time of year. So, you think you had a little bit of a pass. 

Though, as you slam open the door to the Daycare just a tad too harshly, spooking Sun whilst he was mid-decorating, you cringe. Maybe not too much of a pass. 

He shakes it off, however, bounding over to you as happily as ever. "Good morning Sunshine! And how are we today?"

You decide to brush off your mistake. Based on the current state of things, he's very excited about the coming holiday, and you'd hate to ruin that for him. 

"I'm doing well, Sunny. And what about you? The place looks great!" You motion to how already, the Daycare is already well on its way to being totally decorated. It's impressive, to say the least. You left less than 24 hours ago, though he probably has a lot more time on his hands than you. 

He puts a hand to his faceplate, waving the other bashfully. "Oh, we're just getting started! Would you like to help?"

"Ah, I don't want to um, get in your way at all." Not to mention even the idea of touching a decoration makes you want to fling it across the room. Despite how ridiculous a notion that is. You shake your head. "I'll just get stuff set up for the day as usual!"

Sun hesitates a moment, rays shrinking. "Oh, okay then! Well, if you change your mind, just let me know! Always happy to have your touch with these things."

You're too distracted by your own discomfort to acknowledge the compliment. Instead only offering a quick nod and a smile as you march over to the craft station and start preparing. 

You'd hope that would be the end of things, but you weren't so lucky. All throughout the day, both sides of the Attendant seem to be ever curious about your thoughts on different holiday plans they have, asking your opinion on this or that. Whether they realize it or not, you can feel your weariness about the topic growing worse, and paitence wearing thin. 

It was only a matter of time before you cracked, and it happens at probably the worst moment to do so; puppet time. 

Sun decided to put on a Christmas themed show—of course—and had all but insisted for your help. Again, not wanting to cause issues, you agree. However, it's easier said than done. 

"—And we all just enjoy the holidays so much, don't we friend?" Sun asks, ever in character with his hand puppet.

You chuckle, awkward. "We sure do!"

"What's your favorite part of the season?" His little character does a spin on the mini stage. "Mine is making cookies, oh oh! And playing out in the snow, and wrapping presents for my friends!"

For some reason the question—which should have been expected—throws you for a loop. "Oh, well, I don't really have anything in particular. But I'd love to hear more about your favorite activities!"

"Oh come on, everyone has something that's their favorite." He presses, unintentionally pushing your buttons. 

At that moment all you can think about is all the years of arguing, fights, yelling. Family members bickering about things that don't matter, and yet, won't talk to each other for weeks afterward because of some minor slip of the tongue. Feelings of being isolated, alone, and utterly miserable creep in. 

You can't help the words that slip out then. "Well, some of us don't like Christmas very much at all!" You say, voice over the top with fake cheer.

Sun seems to take the hint then and thankfully, recovers the show from there. You're a bit embarrassed to need the save. You didn't think you'd lose your composure over a silly puppet show, but apparently, you were wrong. 

It's when you're packing things up to get ready for naptime that Sun broaches the topic once more.

"You, you don't like Christmas, Starshine?" Sun asks, voice soft. 

You take a deep breath, then shake your head. "I, no, not really. No." You see Sun's rays shrink, and put your puppet-free hand up. "But it's okay! Really don't let me bum you out any. I'm sorry I lost my cool for a moment there. It won't, won't happen again."

Before you can speak on it any further, you turn away, heading to start getting naptime mats out and such. Had you not, you would have seen Sun's hand reaching out for you, concern and care clearly evident on his features. 

After that little incident, neither Attendant talks to you about the holiday in detail again. You still discuss activities as usual, but they don't ask specifics of you anymore. You're relieved, but you do feel bad. You hope to make it up to them by having an easy day of work on Christmas itself. 

Get some organization done, clean up some things that you've been putting off, that kind of thing. Hell, maybe you'll even tolerate some holiday music while you work too. 

When you walk inside bright and early on Christmas morning however, Sun nearly jumps out of his skin upon seeing you. At least, you think he would have if he did have skin, that is. 

"Sunbeam! Wha—what are you doing here today?" He rushes over to you. 

You smile and start taking off your coat. "I work today, Sun. Obviously."

After removing your hat and scarf, you grab your apron, brushing it off once or twice before clapping. "So, I was thinking we tackle the craft closet first and foremost, and then go from there with all our usual stuff, that sound good?"

When he doesn't answer you turn, only to jump when you realize he's right behind you, rays flicking side to side. He takes hold of your shoulders and bends to your level. 

"Starshine."

"Sun." You nod. 

His grip tightens for a moment, then loosens. He narrows his eyes. "We, are not. Working. On. Christmas."

"Well I'm already here—"

He shakes his head, picking you up suddenly. "Nope. Absolutely not. I won't allow it. If you're going to be here then we're going to make this right."

"Hey! Put me down! Where are you even taking me?" You kick your legs in vein, now slightly annoyed. Before you thought he was just joking, but now you realize he's dead serious. 

You get your answer when he sets you down in a bean bag. Taking a moment to snatch up a blanket with one hand and untie your apron with the other. Before you can blink, the blanket is laid across you, you have several Christmas themed stuffed animals surrounding you, there's a set of antlers on your head, along with a coloring book in your lap. 

Sun nods once down at you, hands on his hips. "Now, you get started on that and I'll get you some hot coco. Okay?"

"What, but—"

But he's already off again, "Don't move~ I'll be just a moment!"

Deciding that you're better off to indulge for a little bit, as opposed to outright protesting, you do as he asks. And, while not your favorite thing in the world, sitting and coloring in the peace of the Daycare, holiday music playing softly around you, is nice. 

Sun's gone for longer than you would have expected. Especially for just a cup of premade hot chocolate. But, when he eventually returns you do take the time to thank him for the quick break, that you appreciate the thought, and that you're ready to actually get started for the day. 

Surprisingly—suspiciously—he agrees. 

You won't admit to longing for the warmth of the cozy nest you leave as you stand, but the longing isn't allowed to last for long. Sun's hand is tightly wound with yours as he leads you out of the Daycare and towards the theater. 

You take a sip of your drink, confused but still following. "Um, did you want to start with the theater's supply closet then?"

"Friend, when I said no work on Christmas, I wasn't kidding." He stops just short of the entrance, energy now becoming more antsy. 

He lets go of your hand and you frown. "I told you it's alright, Sunny. I don't mind, honestly."

"I know! We know, but,"—he shakes his head—"We want to, change that. Make it up to you! If, you'll let us?"

He's looking to you now. You're hesitant, of course you are, but you can at least hear him out. "Sure, bud."

"If you don't like it, that's okay too! We just, wanted to try." He turns slightly and starts to open the door.

You open your mouth to respond but are instead taken aback by how pretty the theater looks. There's warm lights strung across the ceiling, decorations of red and green that sparkle. A medium sized tree with decorations laying nearby sits near the middle of the room. Snowflakes in all intricate patterns litter the space. There's a video of a yule log playing on the screen, and music softly twinkles around you. 

While not as intense as the Daycare in terms of the level of Christmas-vibes, there's something more, comforting, about it. Something maybe a bit more familiar, that unlocks a memory you'd left behind back when you were much smaller. 

"When did you find the time for all of this?" You ask quietly. You'd been in here just yesterday and it looked nothing like this. 

Sun comes up behind you, hand on your shoulder. "Just now. We just thought that maybe something a bit more relaxed, but still festive, could be fun for you? We can decorate the tree, or, or watch movies, or dance. Whatever you would like, honestly. Whatever you want." 

"Whatever I want?" You look up to him, almost unable to speak.

He looks down to you and after a pause, wraps his arms around you with a nod. "No one should be sad during the holidays, Star. And it's, it's not our business why but, well, we just want to try and change that for a little bit. To try and make you a little happier."

The tears well up before you can stop them. 

Sun starts panicking. "Oh! Don't cry. It's okay, we can just go back to the Daycare—"

"No, no it's okay, really." You sniff. Your reaches up to his faceplate, halting his fretting. "They're happy tears. I'm very grateful. And emotional."

He relaxes into your touch, but his tone is still concerned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah I,"—you shake your head—"You know what? Let me just show you."

Without thinking further, you raise your other hand and pull his faceplate down to your lips. You release him again after a moment, giggling. 

Sun's rays click, then—"Just to be sure, Moon would also like you to show him."

This causes you to laugh outright, and soon enough you're in the naptime attendant's arms instead. 

You spend the rest of your day in higher spirits than you would have otherwise expected for the holiday. The attendant takes turns doing the various activities they planned with you. And maybe it's only because it's with them, or because of the new relationship you've found yourself in, but you find it all to be so much more bearable than before. More than bearable really, enjoyable. Truly and completely, enjoyable. For the first time in a long time. 

"What are you thinking of, Star?" Moon asks as the two of you dance across the room. 

You shake your head, smiling. "Just about how much I appreciate the two of you, is all."

"Just appreciate?"

You scoff. "I think you know by now it's more than that. Don't even think of trying to scam me out of more kisses."

He snickers in response. 

Just the music for a moment. 

"Thank you, guys. It means a lot."

Moon bends you for a dip, leaning in. "Merry Christmas, Starlight."

"Merry Christmas, Moon."

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Thank you for the request @pip-plz!! Was fun to take this and make something wholesome, esp as someone who hasn't always had a fun holiday experience myself, hope I did it some justice!

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml

[moonlight-records]

Family photos| MV33 (HAC #12)

pairing: mv33 x reader

summary: it's the holiday season and what better way to get into the holiday season than some family photos??

warning: fluff!

fc: none!

wc: 818

a/n: day 11 of moonlight records holiday advent calendar!

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | day 10 | day 11 | current day | day 13

“Babe have you seen–what’s going on here?”

You hum gently as you continue working on the task at hand. Thankfully, Sassy gives you no issue as you slip the dark blue Christmas sweater onto her before gently scooping Jimmy up who purrs happily in your grasp. You let him sniff the sweater before getting it on him and turn, smiling at your boyfriend. “Oh babe! Just in time!”

“In time for…?” Max walks over and admires his two babies in their sweaters. Picking Sassy up, Max takes this chance to look the sweater over and laughs softly, “is this a Red Bull sweater?” He glances at you.

“It’s a Red Bull Christmas sweater,” you correct, “did you not focus on the can of Red Bull having reindeer antlers on them? It’s also embroidered.” You watch Max hold Sassy up again who becomes a noodle as he laughs because you’re right. “Babe this is–greatly bad. Where did you find this?” He asks and you smile proudly, “I didn’t. I had the idea and told Daniel to make them with creative freedom and this is what he created.” You smile wider hearing Max laugh as he puts Sassy back on the couch. “Here!” You say as you present Max with a box.

“Isn’t it a bit earlier for Christmas presents?” Max jokes as he takes it. You give him a look as Max who holds a hand up before unwrapping the ribbon. “It was an innocent question,” he argues as he opens the box. Putting the box down, Max holds the sweater up and laughs loudly. “Oh my god, schat. Did you let Daniel make my sweater as well?” He asks, looking at the sweater he has, which is an embroidered version of young Max, when he first joined Red Bull, dressed as an elf . You hum in agreement as you show Max your sweater, “He also made mine.” You say holding yours up which is an embroidered family portrait, each of you dressed in some Christmas/Holiday variation. You were Mrs. Claus, Max was an elf, Sassy was a snowman, and Jimmy was a reindeer. Max snorts as you get up and kiss his cheek. “Now come on! Put them on so we can go!”

This is probably your best idea ever. You watch Sassy and Jimmy sniff around as Max is talking to the photographer. The photographer seems to be very entertained by the matching sweaters. You make your way over to the set sitting down as Sassy and Jimmy immediately come over to you. Sassy is still exploring while Jimmy sits in your lap, looking up and starting to tell you all about this new environment. You smile while petting Jimmy and nodding, answering as if you’re having a whole conversation with him. You hear some clicking and look up as the photographer takes a picture while Max stands next to him, smiling. “Perfect.”

“Uh huh. Get over here and join the photos.” You tell Max.

“Yes ma’am.”

You two get some pictures with Sassy and Jimmy crawling over you and Max. Then, with the help of Max and the laser pointer, get some of Jimmy and Sassy being cute and silly. Then just some of you and Max though half of them are you and/or Max looking down at one or both cats running around your feet or the shock of Sassy silently climbing one of the cubes on the set and launching herself onto Max’s back, scaring the poor Dutchman as you hit the floor laughing while Sassy climb Max’s back, perching on his shoulder and meowing softly. You also make a point to take some awkward family photoshoot photos just for fun. 

Max tips the photographer when you guys are finished while you are coaxing Jimmy and Sassy into their carriers. Jimmy is a bit easier after you smother him with kisses but Sassy is refusing to go in without a fight. You manage to get her into her carrier and pick them up as Max comes over, kissing your temple and taking the carrier from you as you two walk out. 

“Well, that was fun.” You remark as you open the door for Max, who gets the cats into the car. Closing the door gently, he turns and gives you a quick peck before opening your door and closing it before climbing into the car. “Minus Sassy trying to give me a heart attack,” Max looks to playfully glare at his beloved fur daughter. You laugh as Max starts the car, “shall we pick up dinner and head home?”

“That would be, um,” you pretend to think as you wave a hand, “as you would say, simply lovely, yeah?”

Max deadpans to you and you fight a smile seeing the rather annoyed and unimpressed look on his face before he shakes his head, chuckling. “You’re so annoying.” He says lovingly.

“I know.”

[kawoala]

DRIVEN BY ADRENALINE suna rintarou. chapter 004 ; jailbird.

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 (1,033)

২ 𓂅 ࣪ ೨ ; 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 (bailing someone out of jail, runa being upset but only bc she loves her cousin, flirty! suna AGAIN, tiny bit of arguing, kind of also a filler :/)

There are many perks of having a roommate. For example, you’re no longer alone. Now, when you stay up late, there is someone keeping you company, making you laugh and swapping war stories with you.

Just as there are perks, there are bad things as well. For example, you can hear everything that goes on. Including when Runa gets a phone call in the middle of the night, despite her phone being silent.

“Hello?” Her voice groggy, sleep still coating her throat. She pauses, then clears her throat. “Rin? What are—“ she stops talking, or she’s cut off. You roll over in bed and face her. “Oh, okay, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute. Okay, yeah, love you too.”

She glances at you and, even in the dark, she can see your eyes open. “Sorry,” she apologizes in a whisper. “Rin called me. He, um, got arrested. Again.”

You blink a couple times, your tiredness suddenly gone. You sit up at the same time she does. “Again?” You repeat. You watch her slip on her shoes, forgetting about even needing socks. “Are you going to bail him out?”

“Yeah,” she says, standing up and rushing to put a coat on. “I’m sorry I woke you up. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Um, wait.” She stops, but you can see the urgency in her eyes. “Can I go with you? I don’t mean to be codependent, or whatever, but, um.”

She sighs, pressing the palm of her hand against her forehead, then nods. “Yeah,” she says, nodding. “Yeah, you can come. Just, uh, hurry up. Please.”

Suddenly, all the years of people calling you weird for sleeping in socks are thrown out the window. All you have to do is slip on some shoes. Thanks to the extremely cold AC in your building, you’re already in a hoodie and sweatpants.

The streets are practically empty as Runa drives down them. That’s to be expected, though, since it’s nearly three o’clock in the morning on a Tuesday. She opts out of playing music. Her knuckles are white as they grip the steering wheel. You wonder how many times she’s done this before. 

You’ve never been to a police station. Actually, that’s a lie. You went on a field trip in middle school— the first and last time you’d ever been inside one. You don’t know how bailing someone out works, either, but Runa looks familiar with the process, so you just follow her.

The police station is quiet— unexpectedly so. You spent years of your childhood watching police shows, so you expected it to be a little more rowdy than a homeless man and a sobbing teenage girl. It’s colder than you expected, too. Even though you’re wearing a hoodie, you still have to wrap your arms around yourself.

The woman at the front desk seems familiar with Runa. They talk in hushed voices for a minute or two, and then Runa gestures for you to follow her. You glance back at the desk woman, but she’s typing away at her computer once again, seemingly honed in on whatever.

You follow Runa to what you assume is the back of the station. There are jail cells lined up against the wall, but most of them are empty. You stop at the last one and a quiet gasp leaves your mouth at the sight.

It’s Rin, but he’s hunched over, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. His knuckles are visibly bruised and you think there might be blood staining his shirt. He looks up at the absence of further footsteps. His eyes are red.

“You’re an idiot,” Runa says, crossing her arms over her chest.

His eyes flicker from her to you and you wave. “Hi, Rin.”

“I mean—“ She scoffs. “This is, what, the third time in as many months? Get it together, Rin! Like, what were you thinking? You know how much this costs me?”

“Costs you?” Rin repeats, scoffing as he now stands up. “I pay you back every time, don’t even.”

She clamps her jaw shut, and you know it’s because she’s too angry to speak. She glances back and waves her hand. The next thing you know, Rin is standing next to you and Runa.

You’re quiet, because what else are you supposed to do? Runa and Rin keep glaring at each other and, for a brief moment, you think they’re communicating telepathically. Rin looks at you, a small smirk on his face, and you look away.

This was a bad idea.

When you finally leave, something occurs to you. Where are you supposed to sit now? The front seat or the back seat? Rin is her cousin, but she’s mad at him, so maybe she’ll make him sit in the back? Your feet seem to stutter and you trip a bit, catching yourself before you can hit the ground. Rin and Runa look back, brows furrowed, but you clear your throat and shrug.

And then Runa solves all your problems by getting in the passenger seat. Rin is driving, got it. You get in the backseat and sit behind Rin.

This is ridiculous. The car ride is quiet. You can practically see steam coming off of Runa. Rin is driving with one hand. Your head is swimming. You stare out the window and look at the houses as you pass them.

Rin drives to his house and, before he leaves, he walks over to your side of the car and leans down into the window. “You came with her.”

You shrug, wringing your fingers in your lap. “I’ve never been to a police station before.” It’s an excuse, you know he knows. “And I was bored.”

“You were sleeping,” he hums out. “I think,” he leans closer, now whispering, “you just wanted to see me.”

“What?” Your face heats up, eyes widening a bit. “That’s— I didn’t— Runa was just—“

He laughs and smacks the roof of the car. “I’ll see you guys later, yeah?” He looks at Runa and stops laughing. “I’m sorry, Runie. I’ll pay you back tomorrow.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She rolls her eyes. She puts the car in drive and drives off.

@sahrii , @cherrysurf , @heartmaddie , @jpegarchives , @massacremars

@vertejay , @tiramizuloz , @gumims , @mybelovedvi , @chaotic-neutral-ig

@usbrous , @iheartamora , @iluv-ace , @xavlyzn , @velvetreds

@mysticstrawberryballoon , @h0n3y-l3m0n05 , @aethersluvrr , @smiithys , @rriwyu

@twiishaa , @kissingkzuha

[supercorpkid]

A Super-Sized Santa Heist

Supergirl. Baby Danvers. Lena Luthor x Reader!, Kara Danvers x BD!Reader, Alex Danvers x BD!Reader

Word Count: 3100

Notes: how many Christmas references can I put in one fic? Guess you'll see.

The Tower looks festive with all the Christmas decorations you and Kara put up. You flew here and there, stringing lights and arranging ornaments, and now the soft glow of the lights fills the room. Kara set up a tree in the center—so massive it almost didn’t fit, but no one dared to say anything about it, even though it looked close to ridiculous.

Lena had called a meeting, and the whole team gathered in front of Kara’s oversized tree, glancing up briefly, amusement and disbelief flickering across everyone’s faces.

“So, I was talking to Y/N last night,” Lena begins.

“Pillow talk alert! Set the scene, spooning or face-to-face?” Nia chimes in, drawing groans from everyone, including you. She’s grinning like she’s just won a prize. “Got it. Spooning.”

You roll your eyes. It was spooning, but you’re not admitting it.

Lena presses on, ignoring Nia’s antics and the collective discomfort. “I’m hosting a charity gala to raise funds for the cancer wing of the hospital. One of the highlights will be a Santa meet-and-greet for the children there.”

Kara claps her hands, excitement already radiating from her. “That sounds wonderful, Lena!”

“I’m glad you think so, because I was hoping you’d be Santa.”

Kara’s laughter bursts out before she can stop it. “Santa?” she repeats, incredulous. “Me?”

Alex is already loving this, smug as ever. “Oh, this is going to be amazing.”

You smile at Kara. “I think it’s a really great idea. Who’s more joyful about Christmas than you, huh?”

“Funny you should mention…” Lena’s gaze shifts to you, softening as she speaks. “I was thinking you could help your sister.”

“Help Kara do what? Get into her costume?”

“And with the Christmas spirit… and the kids—”

“You could be an elf!” Alex cuts her off, way too excited about her own idea. You can already feel the trouble coming.

Alex’s comment sends Kara into another fit of laughter, and you narrow your eyes at her and Lena. Really? This is how we’re spending the holidays?

“You’d make a fantastic elf,” Lena says sweetly, stepping a bit closer, her hand brushing lightly over your arm. That simple touch makes you feel vulnerable in a way you’ll never admit.

“I think Nia would be a better fit.” You try to pass the buck, but Nia’s already smiling mischievously.

“I appreciate the offer, but since I’m not trying to get into Lena’s pants, I’ll pass.”

“I’m not trying,” you retort, crossing your arms. “I’m succeeding.”

“Jesus, can we talk about anything else?” Alex huffs, tired of the conversation.

“Look, I just—I don’t think I have the right… temperament.” you argue weakly.

“Oh come on, Y/N. Everyone here knows how much you love Christmas, it’s been your favorite holiday since we came to Earth.” Kara says, still grinning. You scowl at her in response.

“Please?” Lena leans in close, her voice soft, conspiratorial. “For me, honey?”

You sigh, utterly defeated. “Fine. But only because it’s for the kids—and because you get scary when you really want something.”

Lena smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

Alex lets out a mock cheer. “This is the best Christmas ever. Should I get a new phone with a better camera?”

“You keep this going, and I’ll replace all of Esmé’s gifts with coal.”

You glare at Alex, but her grin is as wide as the Christmas tree is tall. She leans smugly against the wall, completely unbothered by your threat.

“Face it. You’re too soft when it comes to Esmé. You would never ruin her Christmas. And honestly, that kid could guilt-trip you out of coal faster than a speeding bullet.”

Kara snickers, grabbing the Santa costume Lena had procured. “Speaking of guilt trips, let’s talk about these outfits. Do I really have to wear a beard? Why can’t I be Mrs. Claus?”

“I think the kids would like the real thing, sis.” you offer, groaning as Kara holds up a glittery jingly elf hat with mock menace.

“You know what? I agree with Kara. Maybe we shouldn’t play into stereotypes.” you suggest.

Alex pats your shoulder. “Hey, at least you’re not Santa. You got the better deal.”

You glance at the hat, then at the red-and-white suit in Kara’s hands. Finally, your gaze lands on Lena, whose face is perfectly innocent, though you’re not buying it.

“If by better deal you mean not wearing the beard,” you grumble, “I’m still not convinced.”

Alex nudges you, looking far too pleased with herself. “C’mon. It’ll be fun. And for a good cause.”

You groan, grabbing the hat reluctantly. “Fine. But if anyone calls me cutie, I’m throwing candy canes at them.”

Kara grins, teasing. “You’ll make the cutest elf National City’s ever seen.”

“Coal,” you mutter darkly, stomping far away from the costume. “Everyone’s getting coal.”

It’s the day of the gala, and despite your best efforts to avoid it, there’s no backing out now. The conference room has been overtaken by a chaotic flurry of sequins, jingling bells, and red velvet capes that would make even a seasoned superhero cringe.

Lena stands near the rack of absurdly festive costumes, her eyes sparkling with way too much amusement. “You know, I always thought superheroes could pull off anything,” she quips, holding up a Santa beard. “But this might be my masterpiece.”

“I’ll give you that,” you mutter, tugging at your elf hat in abject misery. “It’s definitely something.”

Kara is already halfway into her Santa suit, the oversized belt slipping awkwardly around her waist. “Is it too late to fake an alien emergency?” she asks, clutching the beard like it’s her last lifeline.

“Not a chance,” Lena interjects, stepping closer with an air of mock authority. “You’re Santa, Kara. And you,” she says, turning to you with a grin that’s a little too pleased, “are the most charming elf this city has ever seen.”

“Charming, huh?” you deadpan, jingling your hat sarcastically. “Well, you’d better hope my charm distracts everyone from whatever this is.”

Lena just laughs, reaching up to adjust your hat. Her fingers linger a second too long against your temple, and the playful atmosphere shifts almost imperceptibly.

“You look perfect, darling.” she says softly, her voice dipping into something just for you.

“You're the worst.” You whine.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you tonight,” she says softly, voice low, sending warmth spreading through you. “I’ll give you the best Christmas gift you ever got.”

Before you can respond, Kara makes a dramatic retching sound. “Gross, so gross. That’s my little sister you’re talking about!”

You try to stifle a laugh, biting your lip to keep the moment from being completely ruined.

“Alright,” you say, now with a newfound resolve and excitement. “Let’s spread the Christmas spirit! Make some kids happy! Bring joy to the world! Get this over with so I can spread…” you look at Lena, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “Other things.”

Kara groans, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “I hate it here.” she mutters, fully bearded up and clearly resigned to her fate.

The Foundation atrium glimmers under a canopy of twinkling lights and gold garlands, with an imposing Christmas tree as the centerpiece. At the podium, draped in Lena’s signature sleekness, stands an event itinerary. Amid the festive buzz, Kara struggles with her Santa suit’s awkward belt, while Alex takes as many pictures of you two as she can.

“Smile, Santa! Where's the spirit?” Alex asks, making Kara roll her eyes in response. “You smell like beef and cheese. You don’t smell like Santa.”

“And I'm about to turn you into the ghost of Christmas past.”

“I’m just saying, you're not looking like Santa from where I stand. Y/N, on the other hand…” Alex teases, gesturing at you, “is pulling off the elf thing a little too well.”

You shoot her a withering look. “And you’re pulling off being insufferable even better. Have you been practicing that?”

“Nah, I’m just that good.” Alex winks, unfazed, while Kara groans at her belt again.

Lena passes the three of you, exuding authority. “Enough, you three. We have guests arriving soon, and I need my helpers focused. Alex, stops distracting them.” She doesn’t have to say much more for Alex to understand she has somewhere else she needs to be.

The gala begins, Lena commanding the room with an effortless grace as she steps to the podium. Beneath the lights, she unveils a radiant gemstone encased in glass, its glow almost magical. Her voice is warm yet reverent as she recounts its lineage. “This heirloom is a symbol of resilience and generosity—values I believe we should reflect in our actions tonight.”

The applause crescendos, but your focus drifts to a figure in the corner of the room. His stance is too casual, his attention fixed on the display case. You frown, nudging Kara.

“See Scrooge over there?” you murmur.

Kara squints in the direction you indicate, her expression sharpening into one of concern. “Yeah. Definitely not here for the hors d’oeuvres.”

The figure near the display case shifts slightly, and you feel your instincts bristle. Kara leans in, her Santa beard barely staying in place as she whispers, “How do you wanna play it?”

You glance at Lena, who’s addressing a donor with poised charm. “Cool for now,” you mutter. “Let’s not ruin her big night unless we’re sure.”

Kara frowns but nods, keeping her voice low. “Alright, but if he makes a move, Santa’s coming to town.”

The man’s hand finally dips into his pocket, and your pulse quickens. “Kara,” you whisper urgently, “I think this is it.”

Kara steps forward, her cheerful “Ho, ho, ho!” ringing out louder than necessary. The crowd turns toward her, startled, as she waves exaggeratedly. “Merry Christmas, everyone! Who wants a picture with Santa?”

The distraction buys you a moment to move closer to the man. “Excuse me,” you say brightly, jingling your bells. “Can I help you with something?”

The man freezes, his expression carefully blank. “No, just admiring the display.”

Your smile tightens. “Well, it’s a beauty, isn’t it? But maybe you should admire it from over there. Wouldn’t want to block the view for the other guests.”

He hesitates for a beat too long, then retreats with a forced smile. Kara’s booming laughter fills the space as she sweeps a delighted child onto her lap, but her eyes never leave yours.

“This guy is up to something.” you murmur into the comms.

“Noted,” Alex replies. “Stay close, Little Helper. Santa might need backup sooner than we thought.”

Kara continues her Santa charade, bouncing another giggling child on her lap as she bellows, “Have you been naughty or nice this year?” The sheer volume of her voice makes even the chandeliers tremble, but it’s effective—nearly every eye is on her.

Meanwhile, you trail the would-be thief, staying just close enough to keep him from feeling entirely comfortable. He’s circling back toward the gemstone, but this time, he’s moving faster, more deliberately.

“Kara,” you murmur into the comms, “Scrooge is making his move.”

Kara responds with a booming laugh that somehow manages to be both cheerful and ominous. “Santa knows when you’ve been bad!” she announces, catching the man’s gaze across the room. He startles, nearly tripping over his feet, but quickly covers it with a nervous smile.

Alex’s voice cuts in. “I’ve got a clear visual of him. Stay on him, Little Helper. Let Santa handle the crowd.”

You smirk. “Roger that, Boss Frost.”

Lena, ever the observant one, catches your eye as you slip closer to the display. Her brow arches in silent inquiry, but instead of drawing attention, she adjusts her posture, subtly blocking the view of the crowd as the man reaches for the gemstone.

Without thinking, you jingle your bells obnoxiously and shout, “Santa! Someone’s trying to ruin Christmas!”

Kara steps forward, her voice booming through the atrium. “Ho, ho, ho! What’s this? A Grinch trying to steal Christmas?”

Heads swivel toward her, laughter and curiosity rippling through the crowd as Kara yanks at her Santa belt with exaggerated frustration. Throwing her arms wide, she grins, “Alright, folks, don’t worry. He won't turn this into a nightmare before Christmas!”

“Subtle,” Alex mutters, smirking as you both slip closer to the display case under the cover of Kara’s theatrics.

Kara, undeterred, grabs a candy cane from a nearby table and wields it like a sword. “Nobody messes with Christmas on my watch! I’ll tinsel them up like a Christmas tree!”

The thief freezes, clearly unsettled by the sudden attention. He glances at the exits but hesitates too long.

You step up behind him, moving with deliberate quiet. Then, with a light tap on his shoulder, you lean in. “Guess who?” you whisper. The thief jerks around, only for you to grin sharply. “It’s Cindy Lou, motherfucker.”

His eyes widen as he stumbles back into Alex, who’s already waiting, arms crossed.

“Feeling festive?” Alex asks dryly, blocking his path. “Or just really bad at this whole ‘stealth’ thing?”

The thief’s hand twitches toward his jacket, but Alex raises an eyebrow, daring him. “Don’t,” she warns. “Unless you’re pulling out mistletoe, in which case, I’m still not interested.”

The tension crackles for a moment before Kara’s voice cuts through. “Hey, Grinch! You’re not getting away from Santa that easily!” She waves the candy cane like a lasso, sending another round of laughter through the crowd.

The distraction buys you just enough time to hit the hidden panel on the display case, sealing the gemstone with a soft hiss.

“Gemstone secured,” you murmur, stepping back as the thief realizes his prize is out of reach. You smirk at him. “Next move on you, but remember, you're not home alone.”

He snarls, lunging toward the exit, but you catch his arm and twists it behind his back with ease. “Really?” you say, exasperated. “In front of the whole Whoville? Bad move, Grinch.”

Kara strolls up, still in character. “Ho, ho, ho! What’s this? A naughty list candidate caught in the act?” She leans down, grinning at the thief. “Santa told you to be good folks! That guy is definitely getting coal.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Alex cuts in, dragging the thief toward the exit. “Let’s debrief our Grinch somewhere quieter before Lena realizes how close this got to disaster.”

Kara watches them go, and you hurry back to her side, to help her with the line of kids forming before her. “See? Nailed it. The Grinch didn’t stand a chance.”

You roll your eyes, suppressing a smile. “Sure, Santa. You really saved the day.”

Kara winks. “I always do, Cindy Lou Who.”

The rest of the event goes smoothly. Though no one in the crowd actually thought they were in any danger tonight—blaming it all on a fun play—you can still feel the energy in the room shift: more relaxed, more festive. The holiday magic is settling in.

You move to the side, leaning against the grand staircase railing, watching the crowd. Your thoughts scatter, and when you find a perfectly manicured eyebrow raised at you from the other side of the party, your thoughts belong to her and her alone.

When she finally reaches you, she doesn’t say anything at first—just takes your hand in hers, the warmth of her touch grounding you after the whirlwind of the night. She leans in, her voice low, a hint of playful affection dancing through her words. “My elf. My hero.”

You chuckle softly, feeling the flush creeping up your neck. You squeeze her hand, allowing the quiet between you to settle, the sound of the party dimming around you.

“I guess you can say that I’m a Christmas miracle,” you tease, the words light but laden with emotion.

Lena smiles, her thumb brushing across the back of your hand, her eyes never leaving yours. “Well, you are, in more ways than one.” Her voice softens, and for a moment, the world seems to shrink around you both. “I don’t know what I would do without you. I’m so happy I have you to spend Christmas with, now.”

Your heart stutters, the weight of her words settling over you like a blanket. You know Lena—strong, independent, always the one holding things together. But in this moment, with the soft glow of the Christmas lights framing her face, she feels more real, more vulnerable. And it makes something inside you twist.

“Lena," you begin, your voice shaky. “I love you.”

“Oh?” She steps back a little to scan your face. “That’s the first time you’ve said that.”

“That’s not true.” You shake your head as she furrows her brows, confused. “I’ve said it a million times... when you were sleeping next to me.”

She chuckles, her laughter like bells ringing in the quiet. “Well, I guess that makes two of us.” She comes closer for a kiss.

“Are you sure you’re going to kiss an elf in front of all these people?”

“I’d kiss this elf in front of the whole world.” And she does. She leans in, her lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft it feels like the world is holding its breath. It’s sweet and unhurried, the kind of kiss that feels like a promise, like the calm after the storm. When she pulls away, her fingers trail along your cheek, and her smile is filled with something deeper, something you can’t quite put into words.

You lean in, resting your forehead against hers, feeling the steadiness of her breath against your skin. 

“Merry Christmas, my love. I love you.”

Before you can answer, Alex’s voice cuts through the moment. “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals! Now get your hands off my little sister, Luthor.”

“You’re gonna have to get used to it eventually, Alex.”

It’s Kara’s voice that chimes in from behind you this time. “Never!” But despite her words, her arms wrap around you both—belly and all—as she pulls Alex closer too. “I love you guys. Merry Christmas!”

Christmas has always been your favorite time of year, the season of magic and joy. But now, as you stand here with Lena’s hand in yours, Kara’s arm around your shoulders, and Alex’s grumbling failing to mask her affection, you realize you’ve found something even better. Family. Love. A home that glows brighter than any Christmas light ever could.

And if you could ask Santa for one thing—it would be that this, all of this, lasts forever.

[ajmasch]

@here4hualian kissmas day 24: a kiss that comes naturally

When Xie Lian was a kid, love seemed so far away. It was a thing for stories and adults to worry about, not for him.

Then, he got a little older, and suddenly it seemed to be the only thing anyone around him talked about. “Such-and-such girl is around the right age…” or “she could be a potential match for the prince’s future wife…” or anything else. Even his oldest friend Feng Xin had seemed to swap gears, now seeming to be intimidated by any girl they passed by where he had normally treated them with indifference.

“It’s just… she was very pretty, don’t you think?” he mumbled when Xie Lian questioned him on the difference.

“I hadn’t really noticed,” was the prince’s reply.

Joining the cultivation sect was a relief in that regard at first, considering abstinence was the basis of its teachings, but then he listened to the other disciples whine and complain about the harsh restrictions that he seemed not to have a problem with. He told himself it was just that he was more dedicated to his training. It didn’t matter that he didn’t feel the same things as others his age, since it just allowed him to dedicate his focus on ascension. Love was unnecessary.

Despite Xie Lian’s stated goal of ascension, until that time, he was still the Crown Prince. That meant finding him a wife was a wide topic of conversation as he grew closer to coming of age. He was pushed to spend more time with ‘suitable’ girls, though it never seemed to go well. He told himself it was because of his cultivation, that he had been trained to resist the charms of women. He pretended he didn’t notice how he always seemed to say the wrong thing or behave in the wrong way.

“So what?” his father said when he tentatively brought the subject up over dinner. “It’s not like you have to be head-over-heels for the girl. As long as you can tolerate her and she gives you an heir, what’s the big deal?”

“Xie-lang…” his mother scolded, and then they started bickering. Xie Lian was seeing them argue a lot more lately. Had they always been like that? He wasn’t sure. A part of him thought they loved each other still, despite it. Another part of him wondered if they had ever loved each other at all. Love was confusing, he decided, and it was hard. He’d much rather put his effort towards something like his cultivation, something that he really cared about, something that made sense.

Then, ascension.

Then, the war.

Then, Bai Wuxiang.

In the rush of becoming a god, then in the chaos of the war, love was the farthest thing from Xie Lian’s mind. He was much too busy, much too focused, much too exhausted. Then, that creature in the half-laughing-half-crying mask appeared and showed Xie Lian: love was nothing except more pain. Because Xie Lian loved his people, he loved his friends, he loved his family, and one by one they were ripped away from him.

Love inevitably ends in heartbreak, so why try? Xie Lian walked away from the spot where a ghost in a smiling mask had sacrificed everything for the love of his god and resolved to never allow himself to feel that pain again.

Then, San Lang.

From the moment Hua Cheng waltzed into his life, Xie Lian knew he was screwed. From his charming smiles, to his sharp intellect, to his cutting humor, he quickly pushed his way past Xie Lian’s defenses.

It was terrifying. It was exhilarating.

It was embarrassing, as Xie Lian realized he was beginning to act how he remembered others around him growing up had acted with the people they had crushes on. Was this love? If so, he had been wrong in the past. This wasn’t confusing or hard, it was so so easy. 

And the first time they kissed without any pretenses, without any hidden feelings, it felt as natural as breathing because somewhere in the last few months, loving Hua Cheng had become a habit. One that he would not break, even though somewhere in the caves nearby Bai Wuxian was lurking, waiting to take it from him.

Maybe it will end in heartbreak, Xie Lian thought as they broke the kiss and continued running, hand in hand. There’s no way to know the future, but whatever happens it’s worth it to have loved him for even a moment.

[fxlling13]

Amethyst Haze

Dh!Master x fem!reader

Wc:5.8k

Warnings:rude aunty, awkward family moments, bullying behaviour. Alcohol

Synopsis: the master pays you a surprise visit multiple times <3

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

"How about a planet entirely made out of amethyst?" Cocky as ever, The Doctor looked at you and Yaz

excitedly. “I say entirely. Obviously there’s some brick, and stone, and cement. So it’s more seventy-perfect amethyst. But you get the picture.” She carried on, correcting herself slightly. It did sound interesting though, and you guys hadn’t tried a new planet in a while. The girl beside you grinned, folding her arms comfortably. 

"Sounds great!" Yaz beamed, glancing at you as you nod in agreement.

"I’ll love it. Purple is my favourite colour." The others looked at you in shock. Surely it was obvious, you had dyed your hair a deep plum colour recently.

"Is it? I wonder if that’s why, oh well. ready?" The doc spoke, pulling down on the lever beside her. Neither of you questioned her half finished statement.

———

As predicted, the planet was extremely beautiful. With soaring towers made from the pretty gem and buildings just the same. Roads of purple brick lined the streets, and even the royal guards donned that colour uniform. How did you know that? Well, apparently, your group were trespassing on an important festivity of the people. They had you locked up the second you were spotted. You hadn’t even been there an hour, only just getting into the city centre. Two guardsmen grabbed you, harshly taking you into the capitol building and down several floors. All three of you were thrown into an absolutely freezing cell, and told you’d be let out once the celebration was over. Once down there, it came as a shock to find you were not the only ones caught out of place. Furthermore, The Doctor looked baffled to find The Master pacing up and down. Now, you and Yaz were watching the timelords arguing. The blonde just couldn't believe that he was there in peace.

"I swear. I have no ill-intent." He sighed, throwing his head back against the wall. The master was across the room from you, leaving a hearty gap. As The Doctor was thinking of a good interrogation strategy, you made eye contact, and you smiled at him genuinely. To your surprise, he returned it. In your many encounters with the renegade timelord, you had honestly never been scared of him. Usually, he just made you laugh, somehow keeping you out of harms way.

"So, if you're not here to steal?" The doctor started, determined to get the truth out.

"Nope." He responded boredly.

"Raise an army?"

"No."

"Take over the Palace?"

"No."

"Kill the royal family?"

"No, Doctor!"

"Then why are you here?"

"To buy a present!" Eyes wide, you all stared at The Master completely shocked. That was unexpected. Smiling to yourself, you pat the empty space next to you. Yaz looked at you in question, but you just shrugged. 

"I dont think he's going to kill us. Relax." As you finished talking, The Master hummed and sat beside you. Opposite, The Doctor was watching him like a hawk. Exchanging a look of amusement, yaz sighed before joining her girlfriend. 

"You're buying someone a gift?" The blonde asked, unconvinced.

"Yep." He nod casually, eyes scanning the area as if searching for something. Your teeth were beginning to chatter quietly.

"Why here? There's whole planet's dedicated to shopping centres and gift giving." Rolling his eyes, The Master just stared at The Doctor blankly. As if her question was dumb.

"Well, the person I'm buying for really likes a certain colour that’s readily available here on Purpuartica." Sweet, he was clearly very considerate. Maybe he kept that part of him to himself. 

"You mean yourself?" Yaz's comment made everyone laugh. Even the man next to you scoffed lightly.

"No. Though I admit, she does have taste." He thought aloud, nodding in approval to no one in particular. As per usually, he was wearing his long tweed, purple coat. With the same colour waistcoat and shirt. More importantly, you noticed.

"Oh, a she?" You teased, hugging your knees tightly. It was getting exceptionally cold in there. Looking at you, he chuckled and gave a short shrug.

"Yes, why?" Grinning, you shivered lightly, trying to block out your environment.

"No reason." The Doctor watched you talking, realisation slowly dawning on her. He was so calm, so collected. Letting herself smile, she folded her arms. Clearly, she wasn’t feeling the cold like you and Yaz were.

"Didn’t take you to settle for anything less than yourself?" Turning to her, The Master sighed bitterly. He should have known she'd figure it out, but there was no need for the insinuated insult.

"She isn’t less than me, and you know that." He shot back, brows raised.

"I know, but think of the age gap!" She mocked his former self, making him roll his eyes. Giving the couple a pointed look, she deflated slightly. Looking out the tiny window, The Doctor frowned as a gust of wind blew in. The walls around the cell frosted over dramatically, and your arms tugged your knees closer to your chest. Giving the air a sonic, The Doctor let out a perturbed noise. 

"This isn't good. I hadn't planned to stay this long. It's only going to get colder." Next to her, yaz shook in her spot, cheeks deepening in colour. Instantly, the doc pulled her coat off and wrapped it around her, fastening it up. Yaz moved closer and allowed her girlfriend to hold her close. You watched them sadly, you had never felt more single. 

"Are they always this sickly?" The Master asked, shuffling towards you. Looking up at him, you nod.

"Yep. I deserve a medal for biggest third wheel." He laughed, resting his head back against the icy wall. Seeing as the doc and yaz were distracted with each other, you decided it wouldn't hurt; making conversation with The Master.

"You know, you reminded me I need to go gift shopping too." You told him, starting to shiver more violently. He looked you over, brows creasing. 

"You do?"

"Well it's nearly Christmas back on earth. Need to finish off my Christmas shopping." It was hard to speak, your lips were going numb. Subtly, The Master inched closer and began to unbutton his jacket.

"You like Christmas?" He asked curiously, getting the last button open. 

"I love it. Though, its pretty lonely." 

"Small family?" You shook your head, fingers loosing all feeling. Even when you rubbed your hands together, it was useless. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around your waist. You were pulled down into The Masters chest and he wrapped his jacket around your form. Instantly, you were greeted with warmth and sank into his hold. Honestly, you didn't care if The Doctor or yaz could see. If she could be warm, you could be as well. 

"No. Just, every year, they continue to ask me why I'm single. Where's my boyfriend. It’s draining and very lonely." You explained, relaxing as the cold thawed out of your veins. Humming, The Master made sure his jacket reached around you properly. 

"Sounds it, love." Blushing, you chose to ignore the pet name. Your eyes grew heavy, the cold taking the energy away from you. The Master saw this, bringing his hand up to run through your hair softly. 

"Sleep. We'll be here a while longer."

———

"Well then. Why her?" The Doctor asked quietly, not wanting to wake anyone up. Shrugging, The Master continued to thread his fingers through your hair.

"I dont know. Why her?" He shot back, motioning to yaz. Grinning, the blonde let out a laugh. Seems they were stuck in the same situation.

"So, what are you going to do?" She was curious, eyeing your sleeping figure. All he did was tug you in more, sighing to himself.

"Well, I have this plan." 

———

Laughter woke you and Yaz a few hours later, your eyes opened slowly. You found The Doctor and The Master cackling not so quietly. Yaz looked at you confused, sitting up.

“Woah, are you two actually getting on?” She asked, cracking her neck slightly.

“Don’t sound too surprised. We grew up together.” Shrugging, The Doctor rubbed her back affectionately.

“That’s really sweet.” You mumbled, staying against The Masters chest. He made no effort to move either of you. It warmed you, more than physically. It felt natural, it felt safe.

“If I’m right, which I usually am, we should be let out soon. Get you both home.” The Doctor told you both as Yazmine handed her coat back. You gazed up at The Master, curious.

“What about you?”

“Well. I have to get this gift.” He smiled down at you, rubbing your side. Noticing your uneasy look, he chuckled and tapped your nose affectionately. “Don’t you worry about me, love.”

———⭐️

About a week later, you were yet again in trouble. You were running like your life depended on it. Because it did. Somehow, The Doctor had landed in a cyberwar space station. Not that you knew exactly who they were fighting, but they were definitely organic, like yourselves. There was a moment in which you’d been spotted, fight or flight kicking in. Now you had been split up and you had been running for what felt like hours. Hearing stomping, you turned your head only to crash into something.

“Woah there.” Relief flooded your veins as you looked up to see The Master. He held your arms and, subsequently, you up. “What are you doing here?” He was baffled to see you, eyes roaming your figure for injuries and such.

“Doctor.” That was all that needed to be said. He sighed, quickly pulling you along the corridor. It seemed he knew the place well, you tilted your head, holding onto his hand easily. “Is this your doing?” You teased, earning a grin from the man.

“It might be.” He started, making you scoff. “But it really was an accident.” The Master took you into what seemed to be a control room, letting you go and messing around with a keypad. A metal door shut behind, a loud click to signal it was locked. Perhaps you should have felt worried, that you were alone with The Master. The man who tried to become The Doctor. The Man that created the “CyberMasters”. Also the same man that kept you out of harms way, who listened to you. No, you felt perfectly content in this situation. You sat yourself on a leather chair that was situated by one of the control panels. “So, the Doctor appears to be stuck two levels from us. And four levels from her blessed Tardis.” He informed you, causing you to sigh in annoyance. That really didn’t surprise you. “Don’t you worry dear. I’ll get her to us, then I’ll get you all away from here.” The Master chuckled, closing his eyes momentarily to ‘contact’ The Doctor. Once he’d done that, he strolled over to you. “So, finished your Christmas shopping?” His casual question caught you off guard, but it was nice to see he remembered.

“Nearly. Just one person left to buy for.” You huffed, thinking about your family back on earth. Noticing your tone, The Master nonchalantly moved you, slipping onto the chair. You found yourself almost in the man’s lap, little space left between you. Instead of complaining, you accepted your fate and leant against him.

“And who is that, you don’t sound particularly happy about it?” He inquired.

“It’s my aunty. We don’t always get on.” You said, wondering if he’d want to know of all your family drama.

“Oh? Why’s that?” It seemed he did. You pursed your lips, not knowing where to begin. There was a lot she had done. Then again, The Master may have just perceived you as dramatic. “That bad?” He commented, seeing as you hadn’t spoken for a moment.

“Yeah, it can be. She’s just really opinionated, and doesn’t like how I dress. Or my job. Or my hair. Or my personality.”

“I don’t think I like your aunt.” He cut in, a small laugh passing your lips. “Have you considered gifting her nothing? It seems that’s exactly what she deserves.”

“I fear that would make Christmas very awkward.” He tut at your response, taking you in fully. Twirling a piece of your hair around his fingers, he spoke again. “I happen to think your hair is very nice.”

“That’s only because it’s purple.” You laughed, not minding the closeness at all. The Master smirked, nodding his head in approval.

“Well of course.” Just then, there was loud banging on the steal door, making you jolt away from the man. Reluctantly, he got up with a grumble, opening the door with the press of a button. “Took you long enough.” He sounded annoyed, though you felt as though it was more about being interrupted. The Doctor came in a hurry with Yaz right behind her. Out of breath, the brunette shook her head.

“She couldn’t follow your instructions. Kept trying to find shortcuts.” Yaz baited her girlfriend out, earning a playful shove.

“Well it felt like he was giving us a longer route!” The Doctor exasperated, arms in the air.

“Why would he do that? To hurt (y/n)?” Yaz worried.

“No!” All three of you said in response to the girls question. She looked around surprised. The Master grunted under his breath, busying himself with finding a way up to the tardis. Smiling, you stood up and looked over his shoulder, watching what he was doing. In the background, you could faintly hear the women still discussing.

“But after everything he’s done?”

“Trust me Yaz, he will not harm her.”

“But how do you-“

“I just know.” You didn’t look back, not minding their conversation at all.

“When is Christmas Day, for you?” The Master, also ignoring the girls, asked you lowly. You thought for a second.

“Just a few days. The Doctor is going to drop me off after we get out of here. Then I’ll have the entire week with my family.” You said with a less than enthusiastic timbre, making the man chortle. It really wasn’t what you were looking forward to, except for seeing your parents of course.

“Would it help if I came alone, I know I could easily fix your problem.” It was a false threat, you knew that. You felt yourself smiling at his suggestion, shaking your head.

“As nice as your company would be, I don’t think hurting my aunt would fix things.” He looked at you, taking in everything you said with a short head bob. “Well then, maybe I’ll just pop in to say hi.” He grinned before turning round. “Right everyone, follow me!” The woman jumped, scurrying to follow you both down a ladder and to the Tardis. The Master helped you down from the ladder, holding your waist and bringing you back to the ground. There was a small blush on your cheeks, unable to meet the man’s eyes. His hand slipped into yours, as he walked along the metallic corridor.

“My tardis!” The Doctor cheered, running to the blue box in a flurry. The Master rolled his eyes, noting that Yaz had gone inside without a second thought. Gazing down at you, he let go of your hand grudgingly.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have a good Christmas. Trust me.” He winked, stirring both confusion and bashfulness inside of you. Giving him a smile, you waved and stepped into The Tardis.

———

The past three days had been tough, to say the least. The first day had been okay. You went to the markets with your parents, getting hot chocolates and wandering the stalls. The second day, the rest of your family arrived, which included your aunt.

“Oh god, what have you done?” Was the very first thing she had said upon seeing you, clearly meaning your hair. Thankfully your mother was there to distract her, but every chance she got, your aunt would make comments. Then, the third day, Christmas Eve, it had been even worse. Your aunt had gotten very drunk at the meal your father had planned. The whole restaurant could hear her yapping on. It was loud and obnoxious spiel, about the worst topics imaginable. Now it was Christmas morning, you were sat in your childhood bedroom, applying your make-up. Part of you felt insecure, even if you originally liked your outfit. An off the shoulder black top, paired with a short, mauve miniskirt and black boots. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you sighed before finishing off with lip stick. In your youth, you’d traditionally open gifts first thing. However your aunt had decided it now had to be done after dinner, for some stupid reason. Either way, you picked up the last of your gifts for the family and brought them downstairs.

“Merry Christmas!” Your mother chimed upon seeing you, handing your uncle a plate of hot food. You smiled, greeting her too. After laying the gifts by the tree, you took a seat on the free arm chair and looked around. Your dad was chatting away with his brother, both eating a hearty fry up. Your mother still in the kitchen, grandparents all sitting at the coffee table.

“Will there be anybody joining you this year, (y/n)?” Your aunt questioned. She had already asked about your relationship status the first day you saw her.

“No.” You gave a short answer.

“Why am I not surprised.” She tut. “Maybe if you weren’t so difficult, then you’d find a suitable husband.” She lectured you, as your mother came in and handed you some breakfast.

“Yeah, I know.”

———

A few hours went by, dinner was still not ready yet and you were already growing tired. You weren’t sure how long you’d last under that woman’s gaze. Her eyes were like fire, burning you with their criticism. She had been ranting about the problems in society for a solid thirty minutes, and you were getting a headache.

“Take (y/n) for example.” She said suddenly, gaining your attention again. “The hair, the clothes and the tattoos, not to mention the jewellery. Her generation has no sense of class. None.” Your aunt peached, but no one really said anything. “Rude too. You never see any of them do anything for us!” A loud knock interrupted her, thankfully. You shot up, reassuring people that you’d see who it was. Even when you entered the hallway, you could hear her gibberish, though it was fading slightly. You really wanted to bang your head against the wall, but the knocking persisted. Pulling open the door, your eyes went wide at what you saw. Stood there, at your door, on Christmas Day, was The Master. His hair was curly, wearing a black shirt, covered by a maroon knitted vest, with a gift bag in hand. Before he could even say a word, you threw your arms around his neck, startling the timelord. He chuckled, bringing you in closer.

“What are you doing here? How did you even find my house?” You asked, pulling back from him with a smile. The Master looked down at you smugly.

“I told you that I’d pop by and say hi, I thought you’d appreciate it.” He really came, you thought as your eyes shone with gratitude. Giggling, you jumped up hugging him once again.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” You mumbled against his shoulder, relaxing when his arms encased you.

“Well, I could sense that you were distressed.” His hand ran along your back bringing you instant comfort. “How is everything going?”

“I don’t know how much more I can take.” You admitted to him, face pressed to his shoulder. The Master tightened his hold on you, letting out a short sigh.

“I’m here now, okay?” He reassured, clearly not liking how down you sounded. For a moment, you could forget about the mess of your extended family. Forget that right behind you, your aunt was probably still waffling on.

“(Y/n)? Who’s this?” Your mother’s voice suddenly brought you back to reality. Reluctantly, you pulled away from The Master and turned to face her. Ever confident, the male gave her a witty smile.

“Ah, I apologise. I’m (y/n)s work colleague, O. I thought I’d just drop off her gift whilst I was around.” He lied smoothly, impressing you. Your mother walked towards you both, smiling warmly at him.

“No problem at all, why don’t you stay for dinner? If you don’t have any other plans of course.” She was quick to ask, mostly for your sake it seemed. Even your mum knew how difficult her sister-in-law was.

“If it’s no trouble?” The Master was a very good actor, feigning his politeness. Shaking her head, your mother responded,

“None at all, come on in. It’s freezing out there.” Ushering him in, you closed the door behind and locked it. The Master looked at you simpering, allowing you to guide him into the living area. Everyone looked up, hearing people re-enter.

“Everyone, this is (y/n)’s work friend, he’s going to be joining us today.” Your mother spoke happily, most of your family nodding along with the news pleasantly. “Dinner will be ready soon, someone get O a drink.” She finished off before disappearing into the kitchen. You looked up at The Master expectantly.

“Oh, what are you drinking?” He questioned, understanding your look.

“Just lemonade, I don’t drink.” You let him know, a little bashful.

“She’s an odd one, isn’t she?” Confused, The Master spun around to find a short, older woman looking up at him. “Everyone needs a tipple at Christmas, don’t you agree?” Your aunt held up her sherry glass as if to prove her point. It didn’t take a genius to realise who the woman was, and The Master gave a chivalrous reaction.

“Oh I’m not a big fan of drinking, bad for the liver you know.” He eyed her, muttering under his breath “and the teeth.” You pressed your lips together having heard him. The Master peered at you, lips twitching slightly. “Just water will be fine, love.” Trying to ignore your slight blush, you got him a glass of cold water and took it into the dining room. Your mother was just finishing setting up cutlery.

“I’ve sat you and your colleague here if that’s alright?” She showed you the two seats, allowing you to put the drink in the right place.

“That’s great, would you like me to get everyone?”

“If you could dear.” Her eyes crinkled at you with appreciation, as she busied herself with putting everyone’s plates down. You returned to the living room, finding your secret alien ‘colleague’ wrapped in conversation with your father. It was a funny sight to see, but somehow, The Master didn’t looked too annoyed. Gathering everyone’s attention, you announced that dinner was ready and everyone soon filed into the dining room. When you went back, you found your mother had spread the food down the centre of the table. In the middle of it all, was the roasted turkey, accompanied by everything you could ever want. Bowls of stuffing and steaming veggies, large jugs of gravy, a tray of pigs in blankets and roast potato’s and carrots. There was also an array of sauces and condiments. You took The Master down the opposite end of the room to where your assigned seats were. He pulled out your chair, helping you sit before sitting himself. Whilst everyone was getting settled, you took the opportunity to talk to him.

“So, anything to say so far?”

“Your house is decorated quite nicely, I must admit.” The Master said, picking up his glass.

“I saw you talking to my dad?” You asked, curious as to what they could have been speaking about.

“Oh I overheard him talking to that man,” he nodded in a certain direction.

“My uncle?”

“Yes him, about the Bermuda Triangle. I had to join the conversation, it’s fascinating to hear what humans think goes on there.” He told you, a small smile appearing on your lips.

“Hm, he is a bit of a conspiracy theorist.” Hearing this seemed to intrigue the man beside you. Finally, your mother took her seat on the other side of you, giving the signal that people could start to plate up their dinner. Your father got to work carving the turkey, serving your grandparents first. You reached over, using the tongs to give yourself a few bits.

“What are those?” Confused, The Master pointed.

“They’re called pigs in blankets. It’s a mini sausage wrapped in streaky bacon. Do you want some?” He bobbed his head in confirmation, watching as you put some on his plate, along with a variety of vegetables too.

“Such a fascinating name.” The master mumbled. Your father had finished his but, placing the carving tools down for someone else to use. To your surprise, The Master was quick to pick them up, carving off some meat and putting it on your plate before his own. Noticing the gravy was in the jugs, you looked around for a moment before excusing yourself. You grabbed a small dip bowl from the kitchen before coming back and putting it to the side of your plate. Seeing how big the jugs were, you frowned a little, carefully pulling one closer to you.

“Do you want me to help?” The Master asked with a grin.

“Please?” You looked at him sheepishly. He immediately did just that, pouring some of the gravy into your little bowl.

“She’s an odd one isn’t she?” Your aunt cackled across the table, causing you both to look at her. Placing the jug down, The Master cocked his head a little.

“Why is that?”

“Well using a bowl like a child, just pour it all over like the rest of us.” She shook her head. The Master spied her plate, seeing it piled high and looking like brown sludge with all the gravy on there.

“I just wanted to dip my food instead.” You tried to explain, but it didn’t matter.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, (y/n). And she doesn’t have to do exactly what you do, either.” The Master said sternly, not looking back at the woman opposite him again. He glanced at you warmly, putting a hand on your knee. He could probably feel how cold you were to the touch. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, starting to eat your dinner.

“How is everything, O?” Your mother looked over hopefully. The Master offered her a kind look.

“Wonderful, thank you mrs (y/l/n).”

———

Dinner soon finished up, and you helped your mother and nan to clean up. They did shop you off after a few moments however, to which you went back to the living room.

“Ready for gifts?” Your uncle leered, getting all the presents ready.

“I just need to go get one last thing.” You realised, rushing back up to your room, grabbing a bag then heading back down.

“So, O is it?” You heard your aunt speak, stopping just outside the door.

“Yes?” The Master was sat on an arm chair off to the side, right by the fire too.

“You work with (y/n)?” She enquired as your mother was brining in the last of her surprises.

“I do, yes.” He lied, curious as to where this was going.

“Is she as incompetent in work as she is here?” Your aunt looked at him pointedly. It baffled him how she said that with no second thoughts.

“Actually I happen to think she’s exceptionally smart.” The master spoke casually, noticing the look of shock on the older lady’s face. You smiled to yourself outside the door, ready to walk back in.

“So, what are you, her boyfriend?” It seemed that question made everyone grow silent, waiting for his response. Your heart was in your stomach.

“And if I was?” He shot back, clearly unfazed. “I’d be lucky to have a girlfriend like her.” You swallowed hard, cheeks suddenly feeling very warm. The rest of your family began talking again, getting on with whatever it was they were doing. Taking a deep breath, you walked back into the living room trying to seem like you totally hadn’t been listening in. Then you noticed, no seats left. So, you went to sit on the floor by The Masters chair. You really didn’t mind much, plus you’d be warm by the crackling fire. A hand landed on your waist as you went to sit, making you look to your side. The Master guided you onto the chair with him, your legs falling over his lap. No one paid any notice, presents getting passed around the room in a flurry.

“And this one is for you, (y/n)” your father grinned handing you a wrapped box. Taking it, you quickly pulled off the colourful paper, happy to find something you’d been asking for the majority of the year. It was related to a band you enjoyed. Begrudgingly, your aunt thrust a gift into your arms. You forced a smile, opening up the tacky bag and peeking inside.

“Oh wow..” inside, was selection of make up. All different shades of bright eye shadows and lip colours. Ones you wouldn’t dare go anywhere near.

“I thought it could help to make you more appealing.” Your aunt said confidently, whereas you were at a loss for words. The Master tut, taking it off you and putting the bag to the side.

“By making her look like a clown?” He asked, brows furrowed. “Her style suits her perfectly. It’s just not your style.” He continued, shooting daggers at the woman. She huffed in annoyance but chose not to say another word. Your heart warmed at his protectiveness, making you quickly reach down and pick up a small bag.

“For you.” You said, his eyes glazing with bewilderment. The Master took the gift, opening it up carefully. From the bag, he pulled out a snow globe, taking it in for a moment. You really weren’t sure how he’d take the present, perhaps he’d think it was stupid. “I made it myself.” You clarified, trying not to show your anxiety. “I went to this pottery night last week, and I made your tardis in the middle see?” He looked at you with an indescribable look. “It’s where we first met, plus the shack is really cosy. And I made the exterior purple just for you.” Now you were just rambling, filling in the void of silence. The Masters eyes raked over you, considering your form with a tactical eye. Deflating, you looked down at your lap. “You hate it.”

“I love it.” The Master suddenly clarified, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. His lips curled into a genuine smile, thumb rolling over your cheek soothingly. Leaning in, he left a soft kiss on your head. “I don’t remember the last time someone got me a gift, let alone made me something that held actual meaning.” Relaxing, you beamed up at him, happy that you could in fact, get a positive reaction from him. “Thank you, love.” Again, you blushed, following his movements as he picked up the gift bag he had brought with him. Once he’d pulled out a neatly wrapped gift, he extended the bag to your mother who was stood nearby.

“Oh this is very kind.” She exclaimed, taking out a very extravagant bottle of champagne. Both of your parents were very happy with the gift, all your family ogling the expensive drink.

“This is for you.” The Master said, giving you the wrapped gift. It was only a small box, but intriguing nonetheless. Tearing away the black paper, you found a maroon, velvet box, with a bronze clasp. Slowly, you opened the box and gasped at the sight. Inside, there was a ring, the band made from white gold and lined with tiny purple gems. In the middle, there was an oval amethyst, held in a crescent moon shaped piece of gold. The Master took the ring in one hand, gently holding your hand with the other. He slid the ring onto your index finger, your eyes widening as it automatically adjusted to your size. “Very pretty.” He muttered, making you nod.

“It is.” You agreed, admiring the ring. The Master chuckled, not letting go of your hand.

“I wasn’t referring to the ring, dear.” Your eyes met, a small smirk on his lips. “Do you like it?”

“It’s amazing, I love it. Thank you.” Trying to ignore his casual flirting, your attention fell back to the ring. He chuckled, tugging you closer to his side.

“I told you all I was on that planet for good reasons.” Suddenly remembering that day, your head shot up in a second.

“Me? You were buying the gift for me?”

“You’re wearing it, aren’t you love?” You nod at his question dumbly.

“But why?” You asked perplexed, trying not to get your hopes up too much. The Master hummed, brushing his fingers through your hair.

“Why do you think?” He simply said, not really giving an answer. “I meant what I said, I’d be lucky to have someone like you.” His touches were purposeful. “But I could never-“

“Why not?” You cut him off with a frown. He let out a breath.

“You know who I am, what I’ve done. I’m not worthy of someone like you.” The Master spoke sorrowfully, playing with the ring on your finger. Shaking your head, you replied quickly.

“That isn’t for you to decide.” He raised his brows.

“You treat me so well. You’re protective and dedicated, you found my house and came knowing I needed you.” Taking in your words, The Master shrugged slightly.

“But-“

“But nothing.” You said matter of factly. There was no way he would be winning that argument. “What if I want to be yours?” You mumbled incredulously, casting your eyes down to your lap. Feeling a hand on my cheek, The Master tilted my head back up to meet his gaze. He was smiling.

“You already have me, doll. I thought you knew that?” He grinned, my eyes lighting up in a second. “And if your family want here. I’d prove that to you.” The Master spoke in a hushed voice, your cheeks shining colour instantly. He chuckled, pulling you impossibly closer.

“If you two are done flirting, there’s more gifts to be shared over here!” Your uncle interrupted, making everyone in the room laugh. Even though you were blushing, you rolled your eyes and began paying attention to your surroundings. Everyone was in a joyous mood, even your aunt. Perhaps it was the sherry, but either way you were grateful. Leaning back into The Masters chest, you sighed contently as his arms wrapped around your waist. Surely, it would be a slight shock to The Doctor, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. His lips pressed to your head tenderly.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

[spookberry]

i like how as a phandom we are all deeply divided on whether or not Danny knows how to cook. I've read so many fanfics you guys, and it's always either Danny does not know how to cook or he's pretty good at it they just don't have any normal groceries.

The reasoning either way is always "well his parents cant cook so he's had to adapt"

[anghraine]

It feels extremely silly that only today did I realize that pantry and panadería are slightly similar-sounding for a reason >_>

(The English word pantry is one of the many, many common modern English words derived from Anglo-French: in this case, panetrie, from Old French paneterie, "bread room" ... Spanish panadería also has a complex etymology, but all are related to Latin panis, "bread.")

[trash-can-sam]

What happens when your coworker kills your other coworker but both of you are in a relationship (kind of) with the same ethereal woman who had an admiration for said dead coworker.

+bonus Evandrey because it’s funny to me (I’m sorry Eva.)

[x-rds]

That post about huge red flags from exes is going around and I’m like well mine requires some background reading

[keeps-ache]

yay yippee yay :3 ���

[discoreptile]

Beasties of Greenhollow soundtrack! Some tracks on this are from older projects like elphame but all of them have been reworked in some way. Most of them are entirely new. Enjoy!

[dirt-str1der]

Thinking of how stupid 2bjeb is again… at this late hour…