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lostintransist · 3 months ago

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Broken Beyond Bearing | Part 3

-.-. …. .. .-.. -.. .-. . -. / -.— —- ..- -. —. / .- … / - . -.

Part 1 found here | AO3

CW: A/B/O sexism I guess is what we should call this? Trauma reactions to doctors, awful in world politics.

Keeping his eyes on you Kyle’s concern rises with each shallow breath you suck between your teeth.

The nurse had been watching and held the door open as he directed Kyle to the first room on the right. Settling your body flat on the table he steps back, trying to give the nurse room to move. With two chairs, a small counter and a sink, and a ‘calming’ green on the walls the room looks exactly like he expects it to.

“How long ago was the exposure?” The nurse is taking your vitals and you stiffen as if your body hit rigor. “Ma’am if you don’t relax this is going to take longer.”

“Less than thirty minutes,” Kyle answers coolly.

The whine, primal and terrified, that comes from your throat as the blood pressure cuff is tightening has Kyle moving to where your head lays. Running the back of his knuckles down your cheeks he whispers to you. The scent of your fear, clear and uncontaminated with whatever afflicted you normally, flooded the room.

“Hey, hey. I’m here. You’re not alone. Everything will be okay.”

The nurse, an alpha by scent, makes a noise that pulls Kyle to look at him. The nurse, Johnson by the glance to his name tag, keeps his eyes on the monitor taking your blood pressure and pulse. Kyle focuses back on you. Your body regains mobility as the cuff is removed, eyes rolling like a horse looking for a place to run.

“Her vitals are all looking normal, the doctor will be in shortly,” Johnson shuts the door behind him. He must not be far enough away from the door when he starts talking to someone else. “Beta bitch in room one has track marks up both arms. I knew betas died from drugs more than any other gender but it’s wild to see that out here.”

Kyle would have stormed out the door to rip into the man if your hands hadn’t slapped into his, holding them tight. Pulling yourself upright from the reclined position you tuck your knees to your chest and rest your chin atop them. Letting go of his hands you curl them around your legs.

Sitting on a chair positioned next to the bed Kyle looks up at you, trying to catch your eyes.

Even when he could see the streaks of color through your irises no recognition lit your features. Concerned, Kyle stays sitting on the bed with you watching each breath and twitch. Nothing changes until the door opens with a faint knock.

“My name is Doctor Chen. Can you tell me what happened today?”

Like an automaton, you uncurl from your crunched position. Legs folded you straighten your back and rest your forearms on your knees palms aimed at the ceiling. Kyle had seen poses similar in meditation videos he would watch sometimes to give his mind a moment to relax. There is no peace in your pose. The width of your open eyes and the shallowness of your breath all remind him of victims he has saved from torture.

Memories that left their marks on his bones should not be reflected in your posture, he faced evil abroad and in the mirror to keep people like you safe.

He glanced at the man, dark hair, light blue scrubs, thick-rimmed glasses, and a white overcoat Kyle mostly associated with lab work. A quick draw of breath and Kyle marked him as an alpha. Dr. Chen did not look at you once, eyes staying firmly on him.

“We had an exposure to an allergen.”

Dr. Chen nodded once and sat on the small, wheeled stool that Kyle only ever saw in doctor’s offices. He wondered if they had to special order them or if they appeared in the building like fairies to offers of milk and bread. The man logged into his computer with a swipe of his name tag to an RFID reader and tapped a few buttons before turning to look at Kyle again.

“Do you know what the allergy was in reaction to?” He adjusts his glasses further up his nose.

“We don’t and would like to get some testing. Does this clinic do testing?” Kyle asked; all of his medical care happened on base.

Dr. Chen’s eyes glanced at you for the first time with a flare of his nose as he took in the fear salting the room with your uniquely beta scent. Kyle knew deeper than his marrow that you could turn off his brain and any explosive rage that he dealt with being an alpha. You didn’t use that now, but by the gods, he wished you would. The flash of disgust that whipped across Dr. Chen’s face ignited the soul-deep rage that existed with being an alpha.

“Dr. Chen,” the darkness, power, in Kyle’s voice brought the doctor’s face to him. “You will treat my wife with respect or I will ensure you don’t live to regret it.”

The cloying, nose-coating scent of Dr. Chen’s alpha rising to meet the challenge filled Kyle’s nose. He let the monster rise in his eyes, keeping his scent muted. Military training had to be good for something beyond the battlefield.

Kyle stands, placing his body between the doctor and the bed where you sit. Arms crossed and shoulders spread wide he used the mass of his bulk to show the barrier he could be. He didn’t know you, but Kate had seen something that prompted her to give them the care over you. You would not feel any harm if he could prevent it. You started to rock softly, eyes still unseeing. Then you begin to hum Edelweiss, effectively breaking the tension. Chen lost the staring match when he glanced at you.

“Do your job doctor, so I don’t have to.”

“That is out of line Mr—”

“Sergeant, special forces.”

Dr. Chen’s eyes narrowed but accepted the correction.

“Sergeant, your wife is doing fine by her visual inspection and her vitals agree. This clinic does not offer allergy testing but there are a few private practices here that you can call.” He turned back to his computer, typing in what Kyle assumed to be a summary of the visit today. “Most of what we do here for allergies is to stop the reaction and watch for any adverse effects.”

“I will need a copy of that report for our records,” Kyle stated it like a command he would give a private or a trainee. A firm ‘this is the course of action you will be taking’ that did not leave any room for questions or disobedience.

If Dr. Chen thought of arguing with Kyle, he kept it to himself. He left shortly after with a comment that Johnson would be in soon with the paperwork he requested. That is how Johnny found them, Kyle’s arms crossed and holding back his rage and you the juxtaposition of a peaceful body and an absent mind.

“You are more than you appear, wife,” Johnny took your hand, curling fingers around palms.

They wait in the cadence of your voice for nearly five minutes before Johnson appears, papers in hand. Kyle snaps a vice grip around the man’s wrist, pulling him close.

“Johnson. If I hear you telling tales about betas, and more specifically about my wife I will paint the walls of your room with colors not even crime techs will unsee.”

The man under his eyes paled quite impressively. Plucking the papers from his hand Kyle dropped Johnson’s hand and turned to his pack mate and partner in crime. Johnny’s thumb traced a track along the back of your hand as he watched the interaction play out before him.

“Can you carry her to the truck?”

Johnny’s eyes flicked as he watched the nurse flee from the room.

“Yeah. Up you pop bonnie,” he settled one arm over his shoulder and then the other before lifting you under the thighs to settle around his waist.

Still, you hummed, no life in your form. Kyle had a glare and a harsh, nose-blistering scent of rage for anyone who looked too long. Johnny settled in the back seat with you, buckling you into the middle so he could keep a hand on you and Kyle could check on you in the review mirror.

The drive home is tense, filled only with Kyle’s quiet mutterings about inexperienced winter drivers. When he turns onto the path home Johnny asks a question.

“What the hell happened in the clinic when I was on the phone with John?”

The steering wheel creaks under the pressure of Kyle’s hands.

“Nurse and doctor had some awful things to say about our wife, called her a drug addict, and couldn’t keep professional.”

“The hell? Why did they do that?” Johnny’s face in the rearview is tight with angry concern.

“It’s due to the beta laws that went into place ten…eleven? Yeah maybe eleven years ago.” Your voice is an unexpected addition to the conversation.

Kyle slows to a stop in the snow, throwing the truck in park and turning to look at you.

“What beta laws?”

He knows his gaze is harsh when you flinch back. Johnny wraps an arm around you and you settle a bit.

“There were laws on the books for a long time that weren’t really enforced,” you swallow and look from man to man before staring at your knees and continuing. “About how betas weren’t allowed the same personhood rights as alphas and omegas due to the lack of either consistent rut or heat. Apparently, the ability to do both is scary to the government. Several years back a group successfully passed a new law that said basically that betas should be treated like children, unable to sign paperwork without an approving authority, have bank accounts alone, apply for a credit card, or passport, you name it without the approval of an alpha or omega. In some places it went beyond that, stripping beta’s of all rights.”

Johnny muttered under his breath something that sounded like ‘What the fuck’ but Kyle kept his eyes on you.

“What happened to you?” His whisper hardens on your skin like ice.

There is no weak, scared beta woman here, only a beast that would peel him apart if he pushed. He didn’t scare her, but doctors did.

“No.”

Nodding once and accepting the answer Kyle turned back to driving. He would discuss this all with the guys after they had settled into bed. The interactions with the clinic staff were nothing like he had ever experienced before. Though as he thought of it he couldn’t remember the last time he had worked with a beta.

Simon and John step onto the porch as Kyle parks, as if they had been keeping watch for them.

The four men set about their tasks, hauling everything inside. You follow when Johnny reaches into the back seat and helps you out, hand tucked in his as he carries in a few bags. Simon sets about setting up the bed they picked for your room. Johnny settles you at the table, laughing and joking at you as he prepares a plate of food. Kyle and John set to work on creating the dresser. They don’t hear you laugh at any of Johnny’s stories but John points to you once and Kyle catches a glimpse of a smile. The sun slips away into the trees as each of the men finishes their task. Once the bed is made and the mattress settled on the frame John and Kyle lift the dresser into place.

The three men who had built things collapsed onto the couch facing the back wall of windows into the woods. Simon is settled between John and Kyle an arm dropped around each of them. You are standing on the back porch, head tilted back as you look at the ink-dark sky. The coat and boots you wear are those picked up today. Kyle didn’t think to wonder where Johnny had gone until he bounced down the steps with a bright bundle of fabric over one shoulder as he shoved a beanie on his head.

“Where ya going, Johnny?” Simon pitches his voice to carry but not to shout.

“Gonna give our wife a gift,” he winks at his lovers and pops out the back door.

Simon tightens the arm around Kyle.

“He loves you. That won’t change if he chooses to love someone new as well,” John murmured.

Kyle looked over at John who lay his head fully on Simon, nose buried in the scent gland at his neck. John licks the length of the gland causing Simon to let out a short whine.

Glancing back out to the back porch Kyle watches Johnny settle a shawl across your shoulders and sees in your profile confusion, hesitance. When you look down and clutch the shawl tight to your chest Kyle could only call the look on your face concerned acceptance. Johnny grinned at you like the sun had risen.

“To bed Simon, I can feel you grumble. Your rut starts soon. Let Johnny get our wife settled and let Kyle and I get you into bed.” John pushes up from the couch pulling Simon with him.

Kyle stands as well, eyes drifting to you and Johnny one last time. Standing side by side the two stare at the stars. John calls him from his observations and Kyle starts up the stairs after his lovers. His other lover will arrive with time.

Broken Masterlist | Masterlist

@lucienofthelakes @gg-trini @talia-the-gemini @thriving-n-jiving @z-wantstowrite @asialovesyou09 @literallegendicon @canthavetoomuchchaos @reinekoya @jsptmoche @demothers-empty-blog @hbaasaad

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cryptotheism · 3 months ago

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Cherry fuckin’ red hot! I said, cherry *fuckin’* red hot. The color of love. The color of sex, speed, fuckin’ energy. Cherry fuckin’ red hot. The color of cheese on sauce on bread. Cherry fuckin red tomatoes hot like a hot pepper, hot like blood and sausage stuffing, sliced and baked hot and fresh in thirty minutes or fuckin’ less babey. Cherry fuckin’ red hot.

Three hot and fresh flat-fuckin’-breads packed and stacked in cherry red cardboard boxes balanced on fingertips lined with augmented gyroscopic speed. You could balance a knife on its tip on each finger in this thing three fuckin’ pies were nothing. Order fuckin’ up. Thirty minutes or less. Let's fucking go.

Curved shin tines struck the cobbles like keening fuckin bells and the CFRHFDM (Cherry fuckin red hot flatbread delivery man), was off like a prayer to God. Whip fuckin crack like a cat o nine tails on a flagellants ass. And you know the cheese was stable. Balanced on his fingers like knives.

A-dre-na-line. Sing it to me body babey. A-dre-na-line. Sixty fuckin kilos of implanted, automatic, bioceramic, exoskeletal, cherry fuckin red hot *sex* bolted to his bones. The makers mark said “CX150 Jackrabbit” but It was all body babey. Feel those pneumatics pump, it's time to love life.

Cherry fuckin red hot like the sunset over isin. Yeah. When the sun was low and the sky was clear the whole fuckin’ city turned cherry fuckin red hot. River Iis like a mirror made him lighter than air. That's right, lighter than air.

See babey the streets are slow. All those cobbles and dogs and carts and horses, they're all chugging away under the charry fuckin’ red hot sun, but they're just not loving life like us babey. They're walkin. That ain't nothing for CFRHFDM. We, babey, we fly.

City is like a lady yes sir she needs foreplay and in this business we call that a running start. Three jumps babey count em: one, to fire up the kick-jets. Two, to get yourself some height. Three, three babey, well that's just for style. And you know the cheese stays stable. You're flying. Toss that stack of pies up in the air, let the rig telemetry play god for a bit. What goes up must come down, right back to your beautiful fingers, and you know the cheese stays stable because you babey. You know what you are? Cherry fuckin red hot. That's damn right.

Shin tines on the downtown eaves. Balance ain't even a question. Those necroceramic tiles are tough as nails, and grip like wax in the rain. You're flying babey, second story roads and the sun over the river Iis looks cherry fuckin red hot.

Keep those pistons warm babey because if you wanna make that hot-and-fresh in time you need to duck into bucket street, and that means dealing with the bucket street punks. Does this matter? Maybe. Long as you keep your head you're cherry fuckin red hot all the way.

Two jumps babey. One to keep the kick-jets warm. Two to clear the canal. Deep breath babey. You're lighter than fuckin air. Strike a pose. Welcome to the bucket street blocks. It's an old and crowded place babey. Cucumbers here might wanna cool you down. They might wanna snag your breads. And that ain't no way for a CHRHFDM.

Sun is gonna set on Bucket Street. Nasty part of town where life grows close and crowded. Folk’s gotta stick together and keep what they got and what they got right now is a CFRHFDM in their territory. But lets get real. If you can’t keep that stack of flatbreads in your hand, you aint a CFRHFDM. That’s just the way of the world babey. Let em come. You’re at top speed babey, and you’re gonna keep those motor dials cherry fuckin red hot.

There! Third story window, half-closed wood panel under the rough biometal eave. Punk kid in a junk rig, and he's been waiting for a real CFRHFDM like you. Spinning an old sock dunked in gunk from the factory run off. Weeks babey, that's how long it will take to come out. He's gonna throw it, and you know there more like him you don't see. Sorry babey. You remember right? What are you?

Didn't catch that. Whatcha say? I said what are you?

Damn fuckin right.

One jump. Hook open that window with the shin tine. SPLAT. Ping on the rig HUD, right behind you babey. Duck down, keep that momentum babey. Slide rails you know it. Little slick bars of greased living coral metal whatever, all along your shins and elbows. WHIZZ right over your head. You don't even stop. You're oil and water babey. Slick as nature made you. Next open window, they're gonna slap you with a gunk sock. Keep those pies in-tact babey. Wrist on the drainpipe, torque it right over. Hit the ground runnin’ and keep those motors cherry fuckin red hot.

Its dirt streets from here and your skinny little shin tines ain’t good for that. They’re yelling and jeering now. They know they got you down on the ground. They know they got you on their terms, but you’re still cherry fuckin red hot. Hop on that meat card, perch right on the side like a bird of fuckin prey and take flight babey bird. You’ve got the poise, you’ve got the precision, keep off that dirt like the floor is lava. Its a dance babey, and you’re the cherry fuckin red hot lead. The junk rig punk kids are still jeering and whooping like its the end of days. It’s a dance babey, and they’re following. Everywhere’s got punks and its all part of the game.

There’s a grapple and it’s right over your head. Damn. Tricky intersection where the meat carts meet. Punks have got you dead to rights, and they’re swingin’ in fast. They’re screaming bloody murder like some punk kid junk rig pendulumn, hand outstretched to take your stack of hot and fresh flatbreads in thirty minutes or less. And you know its the pies or everything. Down on those slide rails like your pies depend on it. Down in the dirt, pies to your chest. Speeding sliding between those wagon axels under the bellies of the meat cart beasts, cuttin’ through the dirt like a cherry fuckin red hot knife through butter. They never know what left em in their dust. Let em dream of flatbread. And you know the cheese is stable. Cherry fuckin red hot.

Three jumps now babey. One to fire up the kick-jets. Two to clear the canal. Three just for style. Rook hill where all the old fancy offices are. Big square somebitch buildings sinking into wet mud like the cemetery next door. It aint a place you run through babey, nah, its a part of town you fall through. Let your body go limp, stack of flatbread to your chest, let gravity take the wheel for a sec. City wants to meet you and her arms are gravity babey. You know the signs. You know the address. You’re headed to the morgue steps. But you ain’t staying. We’re all dead men babey, just not yet. You got enough life to keep the party going cherry fuckin red hot. Someone down there needs a flatbread, dead man, and you’re the man to hand it off. Cherry fuckin red hot.

Thats the one. The big wood door. This is the easy part. You know it by heart. Walk it, knock it, hand it off. You know the body man tips well. Six whole washers.

Cherry fuckin’ red hot.

#Amber Skies

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v6quewrlds · 6 months ago

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❝ all that matters, j. burrow. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: joe burrow will always be a stubborn, ohio boy. even when his wife's brother is a 4-time nba champion for the cav's rival team.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: this was a cute request sent in by an anon. i had so much fun writing this one. might turn this into a cute little mini-series that i revisit every now and then, we'll see though.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: fluff, some language, joe wears cavs colors to a warriors home game.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x curry!reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 3k.

You leaned into the bathroom mirror, your hazel eyes scrutinizing the smudge of mascara you had just applied. It was a rare evening when you had the luxury to play around with your makeup products; the rigors of your soccer schedule usually had you rushing from the pitch to your London flat and back without much time to breathe. But tonight, you had promised Joe something special: a date night.

The youngest of the Curry siblings, you had grown up in the shadow of your older brother's fame, but now you were a star in your own right, a forward for Chelsea FC, making waves across the pond.

Your honey-blonde hair, the result of your most recent self-care Thursday, was pulled into a sleek ponytail, and you adjusted your custom Warriors letterman jacket with a smile. It was a nod to your brother and the Curry family's accomplishments, but more importantly, it was a declaration of where your allegiance lay tonight.

Joe emerged from the walk-in closet, grinning wide as his blue eyes crinkled, wearing a wine and gold vintage Cavs shirt underneath a black jacket. "Ready to rep the O-H-I-O?" he teased with a flex of his muscular arms.

You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at him with a laugh. "You're insane for wearing that in the Chase Center, Joe. The Warriors' fans are going to eat you alive."

Joe shrugged, unbothered. "I'm not worried. Besides, it's just a game, right?" He winked, the singular dimple in his cheek deepening, and you couldn't help but smile back. Your fun rivalry was all part of your dynamic, a playful tug-of-war that had begun when you first started dating and had only intensified as your respective athletic careers had taken off.

"Steph's gonna kill you, babe." You laughed as Joe spun around, striking a pose in the middle of your luxurious hotel room.

Joe chuckled, pulling you closer. "Nah, he'll love it. Besides, I'm not scared of a little trash talk. I've faced down 300-pound linebackers, I can handle some rowdy Warriors fans." He kissed your forehead lightly, and you felt a flutter in your stomach. You had been married for a year now, but with the distance and your hectic schedules, moments like these felt like a first date all over again.

You stepped out of the hotel and into the brisk San Francisco night, the air buzzing with the electricity of game day. The lights of the Oracle arena shone like a beacon, a stark contrast to the darkness beyond. Fans were already streaming in, slightly tipsy, jerseys donned, and voices raised in chants. The air was thick with the smell of popcorn and pretzels, the sweet scent of victory and hope.

Your Uber pulled up, and Joe held the door open for you, flashing a grin. "Ladies first," he said with a dramatic bow, which earned him a coy eye roll in return. You climbed in, the leather seats cool against your skin, and headed towards the stadium.

"You know, if you keep that up, people might think you have a crush on me," you quipped, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you stuffed into the backseat of the sedan.

Joe leaned in, whispering, "But what if I do?" His breath tickled your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You giggled, swatting him away, the warmth of his touch lingering.

As you approached the arena, the crowd grew denser, a sea of blue and yellow interspersed with a few brave souls in wine and gold. Joe pointed each group of Cavs fans out to you who simply rolled your eyes in return. You made your way to your courtside seats, the anticipation of the game mingling with the excitement of your date night. Ayesha and the kids sat upstairs in their family suite, recognizing that the excitement of the floor would be too much for little Caius. The arena was a cauldron of noise, fans stomping their feet, the echoes of their chants reverberating through the rafters.

Your heart swelled with pride as you caught sight of your brother, Steph, warming up on the court. His movements were fluid, a silent symphony of skill and athleticism. You knew Joe was watching him with a mix of admiration and competitive spirit. Despite being from different sports, they shared a deep respect for one another's talent.

As you settled into your seats, the Jumbotron blazed to life, displaying a montage of the players' faces. When Joe's filled the screen, the crowd booed playfully at the sight of his Cavaliers jersey, and Joe laughed amusedly, soaking in the attention. You elbowed him gently, whispering, "You're asking for it." He just grinned wider, his amusement more pronounced than ever.

Your face was displayed after his, and the stadium erupted in cheers, a wave of love that washed over you, making you feel both awe-struck and invincible. You smiled in acknowledgment, flashing a shy grin that could only be described as uniquely 'Curry'. The contrast between Joe's jeers and your cheers made you both laugh.

The game tipped off, and the atmosphere was electric. You were in your element, both of you were used to the roar of the crowd and the thrill of competition. The Warriors played with a finesse that was a testament to their unrivaled teamwork. Meanwhile, Joe remained unfazed by the glares of the die-hard fans around you, occasionally throwing a peace sign or a thumbs up, his charm doing wonders to lighten the tension.

You watched your brother closely, your heart racing every time he had the ball. Each shot he took was a masterclass in precision, and each pass was silent communication with his teammates that seemed almost telepathic. Despite the noise of the arena, you could hear the sweet symphony of sneakers squeaking against the gleaming hardwood, the swish of the net, and the thump of bodies colliding. It brought you back to your childhood, watching your father play in arenas just like this one, and then your brothers in their AAU leagues.

Joe's hand found yours, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your palm, grounding you in the present. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I know you're enjoying this, but don't forget we're still on a date."

You turned to look at him, your smile brightening slightly. "You're right," you conceded, tearing your eyes away from the mesmerizing dance of athletes on the court. You shared a kiss, quick and sweet, that seemed to echo in contrast to the pulse of the game around them.

The second half began, and the Warriors picked up the pace. Each basket scored brought the stadium to its feet, and the air was charged with excitement. The tension grew as the clock ticked down, the score neck and neck. Joe, despite his jovial exterior, couldn't hide the tension in his grip on your hand.

Your eyes remained glued to the game, your heart racing with every play. You felt a strange kinship with the players on the court, a shared understanding of the blood, sweat, and tears that went into every win and loss. Your mind drifted to your own training sessions, the countless hours spent perfecting your craft, and you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for your brother's success.

The third quarter ended with a dramatic buzzer-beater, and the stadium went wild. The energy was intoxicating, a heady mix of adrenaline and anticipation. As the players took their seats, the kiss cam made its reappearance. Though the two of you had been lucky enough to evade the cameraman the first round, this time, it found you this time around. The crowd's cheers were mixed with good-natured jeers at Joe's persistent loyalty to his Ohio roots when he appeared on the Jumbotron again.

Joe leaned over, whispering, "I dare you," his eyes alight with challenge. Without missing a beat, you turned to him, your own eyes twinkling. The cameraman hovered above you, waiting. And just as the spotlight hit your faces, you leaned in for a kiss that was more passionate than any you had shared in public before. The crowd erupted into applause, and even the die-hard Warriors fans couldn't help but cheer for the star-studded couple.

Your kiss played out on the giant screen, and even Steph couldn't resist looking over from the bench, shaking his head in feigned disapproval. The sight of your brother's amusement only made your heart swell more. You were a family of champions, bound by love, competition, and a shared love for the sports that had defined your lives.

The final quarter was a battle royale, with each team fighting tooth and nail for every point. The tension in the arena was palpable, a living, breathing entity that seemed to pulse with every heartbeat. Joe was on the edge of his seat, his eyes never leaving the court, even as he held onto your hand tightly. You, too, were absorbed in the game, your nails biting into your palm as you willed the Warriors to victory.

As the last minutes ticked away, the score remained tight. The crowd was a blur of color and noise, a symphony of hope and nerves. Then, in a moment of pure magic, Steph took the ball, dribbled around two defenders, and launched a fadeaway three-pointer that swished through the net, giving the Warriors a lead that would ultimately seal the deal. The stadium exploded in a cacophony of cheers and high-fives, and you jumped to your feet, screaming with pure elation.

Joe leaned back, a look of mock defeat on his face. "Well, I guess the Currys wins again." He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, his smile unwavering.

You couldn't help but laugh, pushing your husband's shoulder playfully. "You say that like it's a surprise," you teased, nudging him with your shoulder. "You married into a family that doesn't like losing. Get used to it."

The final buzzer rang out, echoing through the arena, and the Warriors emerged victorious. The sea of fans around you surged to their feet, a wave of euphoria crashing over them. The Jumbotron played highlights from the game, and Joe couldn't resist pointing out every time the camera caught him looking less than thrilled. "Look at this face," he said with a chuckle, "It's like I'm at a funeral."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't wipe the smug smile from your face. "You're just salty," you said, leaning into his side. "It's okay, you have to lose sometimes. It builds character."

Joe squeezed your hand, his competitive spirit not quite letting him admit defeat. "Yeah, yeah," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "I'll just have to beat you at something later to make up for it."

The stadium lights dimmed, and the players made their way to the locker rooms. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and victory, the cheers slowly morphing into a low murmur as fans made their way out. The arena staff began to clean up, and the reality of the night's end set in.

You and Joe waited patiently for the crowd to thin out before being escorted down the tunnel alongside a few other Warriors' family members. As you approached the waiting area, you spotted your sister-in-law Ayesha settling baby Caius in her arms. Your nieces Rylie and Ryan were engaged in a hand game with your nephew Canon, mysteriously all fully awake in anticipation of seeing their father and auntie.

"Is that the Currys?" You called out, your voice a mix of excitement and fatigue. You haven't had much time to spend with the kids since your move to London so any chance to see them was a blessing. Ayesha's face lit up as she saw the two of you approaching.

"Hey, Joe," she said with a knowing smile, eyeing his outfit. "You're a brave man."

Joe grinned back, his confidence unshaken as he leaned over to embrace her warmly. "I'm an Ohio boy, Ayesha. I wear my colors proudly."

You stepped forward, kissing Ayesha's cheek then Caius'. "How did the little ones survive the game?"

"They're all about the snacks, not the score," Ayesha said, her own eyes sparkling with mirth. She handed Caius to his aunt, and the baby's tiny hands reached for your letterman jacket. The sight of your brother's name and number on the back of his onesie made you chuckle.

"He looks just like Steph, square head and everything," you said, bouncing the baby in your arms. Caius gurgled happily, oblivious to the sports allegiances swirling around him. The three other children's laughter filled the otherwise empty tunnel, a reminder of the joy that these games brought to your lives, beyond the wins and losses.

"What's going on, champ?" Joe offered a fist bump to Canon as he knelt down to the kids' level, Rylie and Ryan flanking his sides with hugs of their own. Canon's eyes widened with excitement as he attempted to recount every thrilling play of the game in dramatic fashion, his enthusiasm bubbling over like a pot of boiling water.

You couldn't help but feel a tug at your heartstrings. Despite the chaos of your lives, these moments with your family grounded you. You looked over at your brother, who was signing autographs and taking selfies with fans. His eyes met yours, and you knew he felt the love too.

"You guys have fun?" Stephen asked, making his way over to the group of you with a bounce in his step. His oldest three children took off in his direction, their laughter bouncing off the walls of the tunnel like the echoes of the game.

"Always fun to watch you kick butt," Joe said, giving him a hug that was half squeeze, half pat on the back.

Steph grinned, his teeth gleaming against his tanned skin. "Thanks, man. Always a pleasure to send your sorry-ass fan club home where they belong." He clapped Joe on the back, the teasing glint in his eye never fading.

You hugged your brother tightly, feeling the warmth of his post-shower skin against your cheek. "Great game, Wardell," you murmured into his ear, the sound of his government name falling off your lips drawing a scowl from the basketball player.

"Don't start with that," he spoke back, his voice a mix of affection and annoyance. He took another moment to greet his wife and infant son before turning his attention back to Joe. "No seriously, how you gonna wear that in my house?" He nodded towards Joe's shirt, feigning disgust.

Joe just laughed, shaking his head. "I gotta represent, even if it's in enemy territory."

Steph rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his amusement. "As long as you keep that one in line," he nodded towards you who simply kissed your teeth, "I'll forgive you."

"I'll do my best," Joe replied, looping an arm around your waist. "She's quite the handful most days. But luckily for her, she's got good taste in quarterbacks," he added, planting a kiss on your cheek.

The adults shared a laugh, your bonds unbreakable despite your playful arguing. The night was still young, and the promise of more teasing and laughter lay ahead. The tension of the game had been a welcome distraction from your daily routines, but now, as you stepped into the cool San Francisco Bay breeze, the reality of your careers crashed back in.

You knew your time was limited; tomorrow, you'd be back in the grind, preparing for your upcoming training camp with the US Women's National Team. But for now, you cherished every second with Joe and your family, the joy of the victory still buzzing in your veins.

As you made your way out of the arena, the cool night air greeting you like a refreshing splash of water, you whispered into Joe's ear, "Thank you for flying out with me. It means a lot."

Joe looked down at you, his blue eyes warm with affection. "Anything for my favorite girl."

"You got more than one girl, Burrow?" You teased with a squint of your eyes, a smirk playing on your lips.

"Just you and the football, baby." He whispered back. You strolled down the crowded streets, the distant echo of the game still reverberating in your ears, mixing with the chatter of the fans leaving the arena.

"Unless you have something you wanna tell me?" He continued with his low whisper, his thumb brushing across your stomach as he held your waist delicately. The conspiratorial tone hinted at his most persistent wish in the last few months, one that had become a running joke between the two of you.

You playfully elbowed him. "Don't start with me, Joe. You haven't upgraded yourself to baby daddy yet." But the smile on your face gave away your secret longing. The thought of a baby had been a topic of gentle teasing and hopeful glances for a while now. It was a future you both craved, but one that had to wait until your schedules allowed.

You continued to walk in comfortable silence, the cacophony of the city blending into the background. The night was alive with the glow of streetlights reflecting off the pavement, the distant honks of cars, and the occasional cheer from a passing fan. As you approached your Uber, Joe paused, looking around at the bustling streets of San Francisco.

"You know, I could get used to this," he mused, his eyes taking in the scenery. "Maybe we should get a place out here."

You looked up at him, your smile growing. "You'd leave the Bengals for me?"

"Woah, I didn't say all that," Joe chuckled, shaking his head. "But maybe a second home wouldn't be the worst idea." His eyes searched yours, hopeful and playful all at once.

You felt the weight of his words, the hint of a future where your paths didn't have to be so separate. "We'll see," you said, your voice softer than you intended. The thought of having Joe all to yourself away from the bustle of his Cincinnati fame was tempting, but you knew your careers weren't going anywhere, not soon enough for the two of you to seriously consider a second home anyway.

You slid into the Uber, the cool leather a stark contrast to the warmth of Joe's hand in yours. You leaned your head against his shoulder, watching the city lights blur by, feeling the gentle rhythm of his breath against your hair.

#&. cassie writes.#joe burrow #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow x ofc #black!fem!reader #black!oc #black!reader #cincinnati bengals #x black fem reader #x black reader #bengals #joe burrow bengals

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mintyys-blog · 5 days ago

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Hi mintyys . Can you please do holder of the ladybug and black cat miraculous reader . Hero name lady noire , just fanfics of the invincible variants relationship with reader with has both miraculouses . It can be fluff, angst , and anything really . Please and thank you 😊 🙏.

HEADCANON | s/o who is ladynoire

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST

Prisoner Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• You were sent to interrogate him. He ended up interrogating you—with questions like, “Why do you still fight for people who would lock me away?”

• He’s chained up, but you feel more like you’re the one caught when he stares too long.

• He’s fascinated by your Miraculouses and how they operate. “One for life, one for death… poetic, isn’t it?”

• You used Cataclysm to destroy the collar controlling his powers once, just to prove you could. He hasn’t stopped looking at you like you’re divine punishment since.

• He calls you Redemption, because he thinks you’re the only one who might still believe he’s salvageable.

• You keep your yoyo close and your Lucky Charms closer—because if he escapes, he’s coming for you first, and you’re not sure what he’ll do when he gets there.

• “You keep fixing things, Kitty. Maybe one day you’ll try fixing me.”

Mohawk Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• He is so cocky and flirty it’s unreal. He calls you “my miraculous mami” unironically.

• He saw your Cataclysm once and tried to outdo it with pure destruction. It… backfired.

• He wears a scratched-up piece of your yoyo string as a bracelet like it’s a trophy.

• You pretend to hate him. He knows you’re lying.

• He once tried to fuse with your Miraculouses. He got shocked so hard he passed out. You laughed for days.

• His ideal date is sky-diving off a Viltrumite warship and making out mid-freefall.

• Your sass bounces off his ego like bullets off armor. He lives for it.

• “You’re chaos in lace, babe. Let’s wreck the universe together and fix it prettier.”

Maskless Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• He hates how much he wants you. You’re powerful, unpredictable, and magical—everything he can’t control.

• You love making eye contact with him mid-fight and blowing a kiss before you vanish.

• He once asked what would happen if he took your Miraculouses. You smiled and said, “Try it.”

• There’s a quiet war between you—his brutality vs your balance. But in the rare moments of peace, he stares at you like he sees a life he could’ve had.

• Your powers make him feel something again. That pisses him off.

• The last time you kissed, buildings crumbled. He still hears the echo of your laugh in his dreams.

• “You’re not saving me, Lady Noire. But if I fall, I want you to be the one who ends it.”

Shiesty Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• You don’t trust him—and you’re right not to. He lies like he breathes.

• But damn if he’s not fun. You’ve played pranks together that Cecil still hasn’t recovered from.

• He calls your yoyo “that yo-yo of mass destruction” and keeps asking if he can borrow it “for science.”

• He absolutely stole both your Miraculouses once while you were asleep. You woke up to him wearing them and striking poses in the mirror.

• “I’m Lady Shiesty now. Go back to bed, kitten.”

• You nearly ended him. He loved it.

• Your Cataclysm makes him giddy. Your Lucky Charms make him pout. “Ugh, hope? Gross.”

• The sexual tension is off the charts. So is the mutual sabotage.

• You once trapped him in a magical cage. He picked the lock with a smirk and said, “Kinky.”

Mainstream Mark Grayson x Lady Noire!Reader

• Mark is in awe of how Lady Noire balances creation and destruction. Your powers both fascinate and scare him a little—especially how easily you can fix or end something.

• He loves swinging with you through the city, even if he can’t match your acrobatics. You two are the ultimate power couple.

• After fights, he watches you purify akumatized villains or unlucky creations with your Ladybug power—and is always stunned by how compassionate you are.

• He teases you endlessly about your puns, but secretly loves them.

• You often fix collateral damage from Mark’s battles with your Lucky Charm ability, and he always apologizes with takeout and forehead kisses.

• You once joked about Cataclysm-ing his sandwich when he stole your fries. He never stole food again.

Viltrumite Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• He’s obsessed with how powerful you are, and he doesn’t like that your powers are so… mystical. He can’t quantify or control them, and it eats at him.

• He tried to test your Cataclysm once. You used it on the ground beneath him and sent him through six floors of concrete. He never tested it again.

• Lowkey possessive. He’s always telling other Viltrumites you’re his miraculous wielder.

• You can see the internal struggle in him—your Lucky Charm shows you how to reach the good left in him, but it’s a painful road.

• He tried to take your Miraculouses off once while you were asleep. You woke up and slapped him with your staff. His pride has never healed.

• Despite the power struggle, he’s genuinely soft when he catches you resting mid-mission. He wraps his cape around you like a blanket and mutters about keeping you safe “no matter what.”

Sinister Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• He thinks your power is a beautiful contradiction—hope and destruction, creation and chaos.

• He loves the way you laugh before dropping into battle, like it’s all a game.

• You two go on rooftop dates after massacres (you stopping him, of course), and he mocks your hopeful nature while secretly loving it.

• He keeps trying to convince you to “Cataclysm the whole world with him and rebuild it better.”

• You’ve slapped him with your yoyo more times than you can count.

• Still, he never touches your Miraculouses. He respects them. He respects you.

• He’s the type to leave dead roses on your pillow with a cryptic love note—then grin when you scream at him.

• “Come on, kitten. Let’s end the world together. Then you can fix it.”

Full Mask Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• He’s always watching you from the shadows, fascinated by the balance you hold within.

• He once tried to kidnap you mid-fight with an akumatized villain. You Lucky-Charmed a mirror, deflected his punch, and peaced out.

• After that, he became even more obsessed.

• “You’re the only one who sees both sides… creation and destruction… just like me.”

• He calls you his little miracle, and no one knows if it’s a compliment or a warning.

• He steals your staff sometimes just to make you chase him.

• You keep threatening to Cataclysm his suit off. He dares you every time.

Omni Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• You terrify him, but he pretends you don’t.

• “Magic isn’t real,” he growls. You drop a Lucky Charm in front of him that perfectly solves the battle he’s in. “…Okay maybe it is.”

• He tries to make you join the Viltrumite cause, claiming you’d be a perfect goddess of order.

• You laugh in his face and say, “I already am divine, thank you.”

• He finds your defiance irritating but admirable.

• Eventually, he stops trying to control you and starts flying beside you.

• Your dynamic becomes reluctant allies in battle—until one day, he saves your life and gets Cataclysmed in return. He calls it fair.

Lensless Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• Your dynamic? Absolute chaos. Puns, flirting, and explosions.

• “Wanna see what happens when we Cataclysm someone’s underwear?” “Mark, no—wait, actually, yes.”

• He’s always poking your yoyo like it’s a toy. You once tied him to a tree with it.

• Loves your sass. Tries to match it, fails, and just resorts to fake crying.

• You’re the only person who can match his insanity and still win a fight.

• He calls you “Kittybug” because “Lady Noire is too serious and you’re not that serious.”

• He steals kisses in battle, mid-punch.

• Once said, “If we fused, we’d be unstoppable. Or a war crime.”

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yvesssssssss · 1 day ago

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Imagine Shin, Nagumo, Shishiba, and Heisuke getting pulled into their bathroom, a makeup headband given to them (plus points if it has a bow or bunny ears on the top/just smth cutsey in general), and now they have to do skincare with their S/O cuz they said so 🔥 (I think I'm cooking)

Operation: clear skin

COOKED, SEARED, SAUTÉED.

I think this is one of the fics I've written that i actually like the most😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏

Shin asakura

Shin doesn’t even get a chance to protest. One moment he’s on the couch reading, the next, he’s being dragged into the bathroom by the wrist.

“W-Wait—! What’s happening?”

“You’re doing skincare with me. You need it. Your pores are crying.”

“…My pores are what—?”

Now he’s standing there, looking at himself in the mirror with a pink headband on. A pink headband with glittery bunny ears. Shin is so red in the face he might spontaneously combust.

“You could’ve warned me,” he mumbles as you gently rub cleanser onto his cheeks.

“I did. You were ignoring me.”

He flinches at the cold water but lets out a tiny sigh when you pat his face with a warm towel.

By the time the moisturizer is being dabbed on, he’s mellowed out completely.

“…This is kinda nice.”

You smirk. “Told you.”

He looks at you, then at his reflection.

“…Can I wear the blue bunny ears next time?”

Nagumo yoichi

He’s grinning way too hard as you drag him by the collar into the bathroom.

“Ohhh, is this couple bonding time? Baby, I thought you’d never ask. Do we kiss between each serum layer or—”

“You shut your pretty mouth and wear the bear-ear headband.”

“You got it, boss.”

He adjusts the cute brown headband with the little round ears and even poses in the mirror.

“Oh, I look adorable. This should be illegal.”

“Yoichi, sit down so I can put the clay mask on.”

“Do I get to put one on you too?”

You pause. “…Fine. But only if you don’t draw a mustache on my face like last time.”

He crosses his heart.

You absolutely end up with a clay mustache.

He absolutely gets smacked with a washcloth.

And somehow, both of you are glowing afterwards, laughing so hard your faces hurt more than the exfoliant.

Heisuke mashimo

“What do you mean I have to wear this?”

You dangle the headband—a cute tan one with tiny deer ears and nubs of antlers.

“I mean exactly what I said. Get in the bathroom, heisuke.”

“I have sensitive skin! What if it reacts badly and I break out and I die?! You wouldn’t want me to die, right?”

You stare at him.

He slowly follows you into the bathroom, muttering about “skincare-induced assassinations.”

Once he’s seated, you plop the headband on him. He looks so bewildered in the mirror that you almost laugh.

“…This doesn’t feel very sniper-core.”

“You shoot like a stormtrooper, girl. Come back when your accuracy’s better.”

“Hey!”

But he sits still while you cleanse and moisturize, even nervously holding the toner bottle like it might explode.

When it’s over, he gently pokes his cheek.

“…Whoa. I’m so soft. I could dodge bullets with this skin.”

“You can’t dodge anything, Heisuke.”

He flinches. “Ow. That was harsher than the exfoliator.”

Still, he secretly Googles “best moisturizers for men” before bed.

Shishiba

“You need to exfoliate,” you said.

“It’ll be relaxing,” you said.

Now Shishiba is sitting on the edge of the tub, a giant white cat-ear headband around his forehead, scowling at the mirror like it insulted his mother.

“I don’t see how this is helping,” he grumbles as you apply a sheet mask to his face.

“You don’t need to see it. Just trust me.”

He sighs, but doesn’t pull away. You press the mask into place gently, smoothing the wrinkles with your fingers.

He closes his eyes. “…It smells like flowers.”

“You like it?”

He shrugs. “It’s fine.”

Then, quieter: “…Your hands are warm.”

You nearly drop the serum bottle.

Ten minutes later, when you peel the mask off, he looks in the mirror and blinks.

“…I look good.”

“I told you.”

He keeps the cat-ear headband on for the rest of the night.

Totally forgets about it.

Refuses to take it off when you point it out.

"It keeps my hair out of my eyes. Shut up."

Taglist: @shenwi @astronomyloveraster @cjafjatkstke @shineinouzen15 @yokaistirfry @starizzm

Hey lovelies! Just a heads up—if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist, now's the time to let me know! I don't want to flood anyone's inbox unnecessarily. 🫶

Drop a comment or send me an ask if you'd like to be added/removed!

Thank you all so much for being here! You all are the best!🫶🫶

#sakadays #sakamoto days #shin #sakamoto days shin #shishiba x reader #sakamoto days shishiba #shishiba #sakamoto days nagumo #sakamoto days nagumo yoichi #nagumo yoichi x reader #nagumo yoichi #nagumo x reader #nagumo #nagumo sakamoto days #shin asakura x reader #shin asakura #sakamoto days heisuke #heisuke mashimo #noireves

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mattsmunchkin · 7 months ago

Text

bed chem

paige bueckers X south carolina!reader

contains: smut, draft paige, use of y/n, cussing, lots of plot (i hate smut w/o it)

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this is my first time writing smut so please bear with me and give me feedback because i am unfortunately a virgin. this also would've been out sooner but college is beating my ass so this took over 4 days to write.

you check yourself out in the bathroom mirror as your makeup artist adds some finishing touches. you're dressed in a long sheer dress with your undergarments slightly visible. the dress is skintight and hugs your curves in all the right ways. your hair is pulled back in a slick low ponytail with your long curls draping along your exposed back.

with one last look and approval from your fashion team, you're heading out the door and down to your limo outside.

to say you're nervous would be an understatement. you're projected to be the top pick, but with caitlin clark right on your neck in stats, tonight could go anywhere.

obviously, you would be happy with whatever pick you got, but once the mock draft came out a few months ago, it's all that you could think about. not to mention, social media has been non-stop sharing their opinions about who they think should get the top spot.

"how you feeling, l/n?" your manager, morgan, asks from beside you.

"ready to get tonight over with." you laugh nervously.

"tonight is supposed to be fun. no matter what happens." she grabs your hand and squeezes it. you give her a small smile.

"i know. i'm just ready to be back on the court." you look out the window at the passing lights of new york city. how have you never visited this place before?

"that makes two of us," she lets go of your hand as she leans her head back with a sigh, "this offseason has been beating my ass. i don't think i can spend another day sitting in an office."

"sounds like i need to scout for a new manager." you tease as she lightly punches you in the arm. you two share a laugh as the car pulls up to the venue.

the entrance is lined with paparazzi who anxiously wait for the next attendee to arrive. you take one last deep breath and shake the nerves as you step out of the door that was held open for you. you thank the man as you follow morgan towards the entrance of the building. she steps aside as you stand in front of the cameras and pose for some pictures.

as you begin to walk away you hear commotion from behind you. you turn and see a woman dressed in a full white louis vuitton suit posing confidently for the cameras as they shout multiple commands and compliments.

"who is that?" you ask morgan who is on her phone trying to figure out where to go. she follows your line of vision.

"paige bueckers. she's a red shirt senior guard at connecticut and projected to be the number one pick in next year's draft. she's a powerhouse." she goes back to her phone as she takes a call.

you're not sure how you haven't noticed her before. south carolina played uconn, right? you suddenly can't think straight as the woman 10 feet in front of you has captivated your thoughts without even trying.

lost in a trance, you didn't even realize that she's now standing in front of you.

"hey beautiful." she stares down at you with a smirk on her face. her eyes stealing a quick glance at your body.

"hi." you smile up at her as you stare into her blue eyes. a blush creeping onto your face, the chemistry between you almost instant.

"i'm paige." she extends her hand towards you. you're taken aback by the formality, but your hand quickly meets hers.

"i'm y/n."

"the gamecock?" she asks, earning a nod from you. "i've heard a lot about you." your hands disconnect as she puts hers into her pockets.

"oh yeah? like what?" you smirk, crossing your arms.

before she can answer, morgan is calling your name saying that the ceremony is about to start. you glance back at paige who is also being called by her team. you two share another look before going your separate ways.

once in your seat, your nerves start to hit you all at once. mixed with the flooding thoughts of the woman you met not even 5 minutes ago, you're not sure how long you'll be able to sit through this.

opening remarks are through and the indiana fever takes the stage to make the first-round pick. you take a glance around the room and see paige seated a few rows back in the crowd. she winks at you before bringing her attention back to the stage.

"with the first overall pick in the 2024 wnba draft, the indiana fever select y/n l/n from the university of south carolina!"

cheers erupt around you as a smile takes over your face. you instantly pull morgan into a hug before making your way onto the stage to take a picture with the fever jersey.

you thank the woman on stage and wave at the crowd as you head back to your seat.

the rest of the night drags on as they go through the rest of the draftees. you and paige steal frequent glances throughout the ceremony as tensions grow between the two of you.

you were absolutely captivated by her at first glance and with the smirks and winks she's sending your way so frequently, you could feel the desire between your legs growing by the minute.

afterwards, you are outside on the carpet once again as the media broadcasters interview the stars of the night. you are bombarded with questions ranging from growing up playing basketball to what you're looking forward to the most as a part of the fever.

during one of your interviews, you feel a hand brush against your waist as someone passes behind you. you look and see paige smirking back at you before she turns and walks out of the venue. you bring your attention back to the interviewer and pray you don't look as flustered as you feel.

before you know it, you're back into the limo you arrived in. you let out a long-awaited breath you didn't know you were holding.

"you haven't even been a part of the team for a whole day and season tickets are already sold out." morgan says with a grin on her face. you smile and shake your head.

"you think that would make me feel better." you lean your head back and close your eyes.

"remember, you don't have to prove yourself to anyone. you earned your spot. all you have to do is keep doing what you've been doing the past 4 years." she reassures, placing a hand on your bouncing knee.

you flash her a small smile before returning your gaze to the city lights outside.

the rest of the ride is silent as your social battery died a little too early in the night for your liking. you were ready to get back to the hotel and take a long shower to...debrief.

once you've said your goodbyes to morgan and your team, you walk to your room as fast as your feet can take you. you close the door behind you and lean against it with a sigh. your phone buzzes with a notification from instagram.

kamoreaarnold wants to send you a message!

your brows furrow at the unfamiliar name. you click the notification and open the chat.

KK Arnold

hey girly pop! i gotta question for you

You

do i know you?

KK Arnold

don't worry abt it

yk my girl paige?

You

what abt her

KK Arnold

so basically she's like obsessed with you and wanted me to ask you for your number

You

oh?

why didn't she ask me herself?

KK Arnold

she scared

so is that a yes?

You

yes

*your number*

you send your number to this kk girl and get ready to get in the shower. you glance at yourself in the mirror and look over tonight's outfit. trying to convince yourself that you're no longer a gamecock.

before you can let your emotions get the best of you, you open tiktok to distract yourself. you scroll mindlessly until a video pops up that makes your eyes go wide.

an edit of paige somehow made its way to your for you page consisting of multiple clips of her from tonight. you watch the clips flash on your screen to 'so anxious' by ginuwine. you feel like the wind got knocked out of you at the way she was so confident in front of a camera. it's like she knows the affect she has on people.

as if it was planned, a call from a random number takes over the screen. you smirk with the hope of a certain person being on the other side and quickly collect yourself before answering.

"hello?"

"hey pretty girl." you hear the same intoxicating voice from earlier, only this time it's low and husky.

"hi paige." you say sweetly. you bring your legs closer together at the instant effect she had on you from purely her voice.

"how you feeling? about getting drafted and what not."

"oh i'm feeling great! just ready to be back on the court and stuff." you curse yourself at your awkwardness. you barely know this woman and all of a sudden, she has your thoughts in a knot.

"oh yeah?" you can hear the smirk in her voice. the two words making your head spin.

"mhm" seems to be the only thing you can push out right now.

your thoughts are everywhere at once and you can't seem to focus on whatever paige is talking about. you curse yourself for how easily you're allowing yourself to be enthralled by her at such a high level. you keep picturing her lips and how she would wet them with her tongue every so often. you can only imagine how soft they are and how good they would feel-

"y/n?" her voice brings you back to reality as your eyes shoot open. you realize you didn't hear a single thing she had said.

"yeah! sorry, i uh...what were you saying?" you pinch the bridge of your nose. why are you fumbling this woman so hard right now?

"what y'thinking about, baby?" the pet name rolling off her tongue effortlessly fills your head with sinful thoughts. you can hear the smirk that never seems to leave her face and the hushed tone in her voice.

"can you come over?" the question leaves your mouth before you can detest, and you hope it doesn't backfire. you couldn't spend another moment separate from this woman.

"i'll be there in 10." she responds almost immediately. she hangs up before you can respond. your mind starts to race as you think about having paige bueckers in your hotel room, all to yourself.

the next 10 minutes could not have come any slower. you spent them pacing your room and only thinking about her hands all over your body. how her lips would feel. her breath on your neck and down your body.

God, you hoped she was still in that damn suit.

you hear a knock on your door and immediately jump up from your seat on the bed and walk towards the door. with a deep breath you open the door and are met with the same paige you met on the red carpet 3 hours ago.

her lips are immediately on yours in a heated kiss. her hands set on your waist pulling you closer as yours find their way to her neck. your lips move together harmoniously, as if they've done this a million times before.

a muffled groan escapes her lips when your teeth sink into her bottom lip, her grip on your waist tightening. she moves her hands to your backside signaling you to jump to which you oblige.

she carries you over to the bed and sets you down, the kiss never faltering. her lips make their way to assault your neck as your breathless moans fill the room. it's music to her ears. your hands have been roaming her body when they tug at her top.

"take it off." you breathe out. she smirks before leaning up and tugging the top off, leaving her bare. you lean up to kiss her stomach as your tongue runs up her abs not breaking eye contact.

"fuck baby." she croaks out. she reaches behind you and begins taking your dress off. you lay back down as you lift your hips to allow her to completely strip you. her eyes roam your naked body, taking you in. "you're so beautiful."

her lips reattach with yours. her hands play with her belt buckle, undoing it and sliding her pants off. you wrap your legs around her waist and pull her closer to you.

"need you." you say between kisses. you buck your hips forward needing to feel something.

"you want me?" she reattaches her mouth to your neck, leaving more marks. you hum a response. your mind is fogged with anticipation and desire. "use your words baby."

"yes, fuck, yes i need you paige." she removes her lips from your neck and looks into your eyes with a lust-filled gaze.

"ride my face."

you're taken aback by her words. she lays down next to you and you waste no time crawling on top of her. you hover over her before her hands grab your ass and bring you to her mouth.

you moan out at the sudden contact. your hand snaps to her head and tugs at her hair, earning a muffled moan from her that vibrates against your core. her tongue runs through your folds and circles your bundle of nerves.

"fuck paige," you grind your hips on her tongue as you two hold eye contact, "so good baby."

you lean back onto your hand as your other makes its way to her work on her core. your fingers work in quick circles as she moans out, throwing her head back before reattaching to you. her tongue slides into you while her nose slightly rubs against your clit as she does so.

you bring your fingers to your mouth, sucking on them before returning them to enter her. you curl them while moving them in and out as your thumb rubs her bundle of nerves.

"holy shit y/n," she removes her mouth as she moans before replacing it with her own fingers. quickly rubbing your core as your pace quickens with hers. you're both a breathless, moaning mess. your eyes squeeze shut with your mouth agape as the knot in your stomach builds. "you're so beautiful baby," she husks before returning her mouth to your heat.

how can she talk so sweet when doing such bad things?

the way her constant moans would vibrate against you and mixed with her mouth moving in ways you could only imagine, you weren't gonna last long at all.

"m' close paige." you moan as your pace in her quickens to a speed you didn't know you were capable of. her mouth somehow finds a way to match as she hums against you, signaling that she was too.

after a few more quick thrusts, the knot in your stomach snaps as the two of you moan out loud whines and profanities, not caring about people hearing. you work each other through your highs before pulling your fingers out and bringing them to your mouth. you suck them while maintaining eye contact with the breathless girl under you who kisses your core before pulling away from you, her face glistening from your orgasm.

you move off of her and plop down next to her as you both catch your breath. she wraps her arm around your waist and pulls you in. she pulls the covers over the two of you as you share a kiss, this one gentle and sweet. you pull away and rest your head on your hand as her fingers run through your hair.

"that was so much better than i imagined." you lightly laugh as your legs intertwine with paige's.

"you imagined it before?" she asks in a teasing tone. you lightly slap her arm as she lets out a laugh.

"don't make it weird." you wrap your arm around her as you lay your head on her chest as sleep threatens to take over your body. there's a moment of silence between you.

"i hope you know this wasn't a one-time thing." she speaks up, vulnerability lacing her voice. you smile against her.

"well i look forward to the next time then." her arms tighten around your waist as she pulls you closer. she places a kiss on the top of your head.

"goodnight beautiful."

"goodnight p."

#wlw #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #wnba #lgbtq #bed chem #fanfic

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 30 days ago

Note

Could you do honkai girls with an s/o who can transform like a Power Ranger or Kamen Rider?

(H:SR/ToCS) Firefly, Herta, Seele, Rappa, Laura, Emma, and Duvalie's S/O having a Power Rangers Transformation

"IT'S MAKING ME CRINGE, DUTCH!-" *VIOLENT COUGHING* - 99% of the characters in this post

Firefly at first was taken aback by S/O's wrist suddenly glowing a bright red color.

...Which were then quickly followed up by flashy and dramatic poses.

(S/O) "IT'S MORPHN' TIME!"

(Firefly) "Morphing what-?"

In an instant, S/O's body was overtaken by electricity, before their clothes were replaced with a red spandex jumpsuit, posing and an explosion appearing behind them.

Firefly couldn't react too outwardly, considering that she was still acting as SAM.

And...truthfully, yeah if she criticized them about it, it'd be the pot calling the kettle black.

She knew her transformations were sometimes dramatic, but that was a fear factor. S/O's on the other hand?

Well, even their explosion was color coded to their suit, so this was going a little overboard.

(Firefly) "...I wonder if the armor would form like that flawlessly if I posed like that too."

Herta was honestly fascinated by S/O's Power Suit, moreso than she was annoyed.

It was kind of funny too, if not cringeworthy.

(S/O) "GO, GALACTIC!-"

S/O pointed their sword heroically in the air, scaring the subjects Herta had them fighting against.

Which was impressive, considering they were all automatons.

(Herta) snrrk! "Is the catchphrase necessary?"

(S/O) "Absolutely it is!"

(Herta) "I see...Note to self, make prototype not require vocal confirmation-"

Once she got around to making her own for science, she would not be shouting that literally every single time she needed someone beat up.

As for the residual energy buildup, Herta would also make sure that a transformation would not cause a catastrophic explosion too.

Seele just groaned everytime a fight broke out near her and S/O.

Normally, she would have been concerned that the love of her life had the risk of getting hurt.

S/O's method of fighting was anything but normal.

(Grunt) "Tch, what is a Galaxy Ranger going to do, bring us to 'justice'?! Hah, get real!-"

(S/O) "I'm not just any ranger. Not by a long shot...!"

S/O stuck their hand out, reaching for the weird red lizard-themed wrist device on them.

(S/O) "I need more quantum power!"

Seele crossed her arms and waited impatiently, foot tapping on the ground waiting as the suit suddenly morphed around them, shocking everyone but her.

(Seele) "Can you get this over with already? I'm not gonna wait for you to summon your giant robot this time."

After seeing it for the 50th time this month, Seele is more than just a little over this flashy and stupid ass way of fighting.

Who the hell would even find this cool?!

(Rappa) "THAT IS SO FRIGGIN' COOL, NINJA KOIBITO!"

Rappa is basically frothing at the mouth the moment S/O transforms into their suit.

Even their lines mirrored hers, and which meant that it was over the top, obnoxiously loud, and flashier than the signs around Penacony.

It was to the point that Rappa copied S/O: lines, movement, and all.

(Rappa & S/O) "NINJA STORM, RANGER FORM!-"

Landing in front of the robbers they were bringing to justice, they struck a pose inflicting fear into their hearts!

...Or at the very least, left them confused as to what they were witnessing.

(S/O) "WITH THE SPEED OF THE WIND!"

(Rappa) "AND STRENGTH LIKE THUNDER!-"

Rappa has zero issues with their transformation, and is enjoying it perhaps a little too much.

(Rappa) "Ninja Koibito, you will get me a suit like yours, won't you?!"

Laura knew that S/O was part of a very eccentric Bracer group, but she truly had no idea how weird they were until seeing them in action.

She drew her greatsword, prepared to fight the monsters threatening the village before S/O ran past her, reaching for their wrist.

(Laura) "S/O! Hang on, we need to-"

(S/O) "LIGHTSPEED, RESCUE!-"

S/O apparently thought it was more important to pose in front of the monster than dodge it, something that gave nearly gave her a heart attack.

With a blinding light, S/O transformed into a red jumpsuit that effortlessly punched past the monsters, causing them to burst into a fiery explosion, one that nearly scorched her, as they effortlessly saved the townspeople behind them.

They landed from the explosion with a rather impressive flip, but she was still absolutely floored by their theatrics.

And the townspeople were just as weirded out as her.

(S/O) "Don't worry, we're here to save you! Now go!"

(Man) "T-Thanks...I think?"

(Laura) "S/O, are the poses required?-"

(S/O) "Hm? What poses?"

(Laura) "...Nevermind."

Now, Emma has dealt with and seen some strange magic in her time.

But never has she seen anything like the way S/O uses theirs.

Emma is half convinced it isn't really magic, since they were using a device that wasn't too dissimilar from an Arcus to activate it.

And she certainly hopes it wasn't, because just watching S/O transform gave her second-hand embarassment.

(S/O) "MAGICAL SOURCE, MYSTIC FORCE!"

As they dramatically posed and pointed their phone into the sky, Emma's hand slid down her face, slightly knocking her glasses out of position.

(Emma) "Dear Goddess...-"

She couldn't imagine having to do that everytime she used her staff, let alone keeping a straight face and not think it was the dumbest thing.

Emma would find the suit and cape kind of cool, if it weren't for the flamboyant poses they struck, and the explosions that happened everytime S/O finished fighting something.

Now that had to be magic.

She politely chooses not to say anything about it, for better and worse.

Duvalie's jaw dropped the first time she saw S/O in action.

She was in awe alright, awe of their stupidity.

S/O had brought an ancient lizard-like archaism to their control, colored it bright red, and even managed to make it pose with them.

On top of that, they changed into their combat gear with a dramatic flash of colors, complete with pose and catchphrase.

Duvalie's eye twitched as she watched them effortlessly bulldoze through scores of monsters.

Which someone in spandex, no armor, and a sword that borderline looked like a toy shouldn't be able to do.

Meanwhile, her two subordinates simply watched, turning to their head knight.

(Ines) "...Did they just shout, 'Dino-'"

Duvalie spun around to Ines, finger on her chest as her voice bordered full on yelling.

(Duvalie) "NOT. ANOTHER. WORD. Oh, they are SO DEAD THE MOMENT THEY COME BACK!"

(Ennea) "If anything, they're doing a good job. We were supposed to be here clearing them out. Perhaps we need to don their jumpsuits and-"

(Duvalie) "SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP! I WOULD NEVER PUT ON SOMETHING SO STUPID LIKE THAT!"

(Ines) "And you let S/O do that?-"

(Duvalie) "IF THE TWO OF YOU SAY ANOTHER WORD, I'LL MAKE THEIR GIANT MACHINE EAT YOU!"

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dreamingunderacloudysky · 4 months ago

Note

Hello!!! Nice to meet you here!!

Requesting separate HC's for Anya and Curly with gn!reader who miss them so much even for 5 minutes that just make big plushies verison of Anya/Curly to cuddle with

S/O That crochets their partner while they're gone Anya, Curly.

A/N: Interesting prompt, I shall do it! Thank you for the request! Gave it an interesting spin!

For context, the reader crocheted both themselves and their partner so you tow have a crocheted of eachother.

Curly

Is super flattered when you email him a picture of a crocheted version of himself. He'd originally thought you just crocheted a little you for him when he went on the Tulpar.

You send him pictures of little Curly on top of your shared pet with a cowboy hat on, which makes his heart swell with joy.

Every time he has a meeting with the Tulpar crew, he'll use the meeting projector to show all the silly pictures his partner sends to him of mini curly.

One picture is Crochet Curly on the dog against a bunch of mini dinosaur figures set up in a formation; another picture is of the Crochet double with you and it on a swinging bench in your back yard.

Swansea and Jimmy scoff at it, but a small smile curls on each of their lips. Daisuke is asking to help Curly with photography ideas with his own Crochet setting the doll various places on the ship. Anya silently enjoys the little pictures and sketches some of them into her note pad.

When he's alone he'll go through and look at the photo war you guys have between your two crochets.

He really misses you

Anya

Before she boarded the Tulpar, you rushed up and pressed the crochett of you into her hands before leaving a kiss and running back down the railing.

Anya spent the entirety of Tulpar's launch carefully holding the little you in the palms of her hands.

Anya herself may not crochet, but I can tell you that she would be a killer at origami, and she folds little Tulpar coveralls for your crochet to wear.

When the first batch of emails from home came in, Anya clicked on the file you sent and had to hold a hand over her mouth as hot tears welled in her eyes.

Seeing a little version of herself in crochet resting between your fingers, in a little lab coat with a stethoscope around its neck. She wished she could take it all back and be with you instead of this space delivery.

Like curly, Anya takes silly pictures at work of your crochet doing various things like holding the butterfly needle while drawing Swansea's blood or posing dramatically next to the 'Yimpy' sketch on her board.

Anya has made little cartoon comics of adventures your two crochets would go on fighting aliens or the declarations of love that Anya herself could not say out loud.

Her favorite picture is you holding the Anya crochet while in bed with a bag of Wendy's watching terrible reality TV. The Anya Crochet is holding a fry in a chocolate Frostee, a habit that mirrors the nurse's guilty pleasure.

She knows the moment she comes home, she'll tackle you out of your shared bed and not let go for a good while.

A/N: I actually had such a BLAST writing this one! It definately strayed from the original prompt but I hope you enjoyed!

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing x reader #anya x reader #cloudy posting #nurse anya #anya mouthwashing #anya #anya mw #curly mw #curly #curly mouthwashing #captain curly

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jals-stuff · 1 year ago

Text

short washing machine headcanons...

How would the Mashle characters react if they found their s/o stuck in the washing machine? + personal ratings (I know, no one asked)

For Mash, Dot, Finn, Lemon, Lance, Rayne, Abel, Abyss, Wirth, Margarette, Carpaccio, Orter, Renatus, Ryoh, Kaldo.

Warnings: SLIGHT spoiler for Margarette? Other than that, none. ratings are purely subjective, please don't bury me alive.

Note: none of this is canon so some charas might be ooc, don’t take it too seriously! Might write for Domina, Meliadoul, Famin and Delisaster one day, idk

MASH...

He’s probably busy eating or making cream puffs when he hears you call for help. It isn’t common for you to do such a thing so he freaks out a little bit at first, but upon finding out the mess you’ve made while trying to empty the washing machine, he just stands there, completely dumbfounded.

He’s a little dense, so it takes him a minute or two to figure out that you’re actually stuck. He’s never been in this situation before, therefore he’s sweating a little and panicking internally. “T-t-t-t-this is bad. I-I-I have to help them out.”

Pulling on your legs would be a terrible idea, considering his strength, and he’s just completely clueless on how to get you out.

Would 100% rip open the washing machine and leave you completely astonished as he does so, then pat your shoulder in a comforting way with a thumbs up.

Overall very cute, even tried to comfort you after such a “traumatising” ordeal. 8/10.

DOT...

He thinks he’s the main character, we all know it. He’s probably checking himself out in the mirror and saying cool protagonist lines when he hears you call out for help, and suddenly, his main quest has changed!

He walks in on you, stuck head first in the washing machine, and much like Mash, he just looks at you for a bit before taking in the situation. Of course, he’s going to help you, but he needs to gloat about it first, you know it.

“Damn, how could you ever get out of here without my help, huh?” He’d just take on dramatic poses that he assumes are cool (they are not), and try to pull you out by himself. “Can’t be helped, huuuh?”

Despite all his efforts, he doesn’t manage to get you out and he just starts mumbling things about the washing machine being a worthy opponent before actually grabbing his phone and calling someone for help.

Dot is just being Dot, after all, but he’s full of good intentions. 5/10, at least you had a good laugh..?

FINN...

Finn immediately interrupts his studying when he hears you call out for him, and he’s running like his own life depends on it! “What’s wrong, (Y/N)?!”

Upon seeing you stuck in there head first, he gets into panic mode! It isn’t completely horrible either and it’s just purely annoying to be stuck, but Finn sees it differently. If you called for help, then SURELY you must be terrified or in pain!

He’s going to pace around the room for a minute, wondering “How do I get them out? How do I get them out? How do I get them out?” before deciding that he’s going to take it step by step!

Gently guides you out of the washing machine without too much trouble and doesn’t judge you even once for it! He gives you a big hug afterwards because he’s convinced you were very scared (you weren’t, but he was)!

I physically cannot give Finn anything under 9/10. He is bebe.

LEMON...

She’s probably making a cute keychain for you when you call out for her. She will make you her utmost priority and cheerily trot up to you. “Yeeees~ what is it?”

You’re… stuck. She blushes dramatically and screams out something like “Kyaaah! Just like in those movies! You perv!” But then carefully inspect the position you’re in and how the hell you got stuck in there.

She’s going to try pretty much everything in her power, from pulling you out to switching your position and figuring out a way to painlessly get you out of there…

And eventually get you out! However, be warned: she will give you the side eye with a blush every time she sees you for at least a month and giggle. Who knows what’s going through her head?

Helpful, cute, and funny. 8/10 would recommend.

LANCE...

He’s reading a book when you call for him. He will automatically assume something bad happened (well, technically yes, but.. yeah) and quickly run to the laundry room. “(Y/N), what happened?!”

Looks down on you without you knowing. The display is pretty ridiculous and laughable, but he won’t make a sound. He’s just going to pat your back. “I’ll get you out of here.”

He’s a very smart guy, so he just has to look at the way you’re stuck for a few seconds before figuring out the most efficient way to help you, and it takes him very little time.

Will sigh and shake his head in disapproval, but internally scream when you pout at him for sighing because he thinks you’re adorable. He’s going to look away and clear his throat so you can’t see his blush.

Efficient and definitely nice, he won’t even tease you about it. He did look down on you though, 7/10.

RAYNE...

Where is he anyway? He’s taking his sweet time when you call for him, and when he does finally arrive, you’re met with his usual neutral voice. “Yes, I heard you calling the first time.”

You can’t tell, but when he walks in on you stuck like this, he gives you the look… but again, it’s probably his neutral face. How’d you get stuck in there anyway? You really can’t do anything by yourself, can you?

Much like Lance, he’s extremely smart, so he’s going to pull you out of there very quickly, and he sighs while doing so. How can you be so clumsy? It’s almost as if you did it on purpose.

He’s about to lecture you but notices that you’re very embarrassed and can’t even look him in the eyes, so his expression softens just a little and he decides not to say anything mean and just gives you a comforting pat on the head. “Don’t get stuck again, alright?”

Very thoughtful despite the cold look he gives you, efficient and nice. 8/10.

ABEL...

Abel rarely stays away from you for very long, so he was probably there when it happened and he saw you getting stuck. He also noticed how you couldn’t get out by yourself. “It appears you need some help.”

You’re now aware that he saw you and it’s just fully embarrassing, but he’s part of the clever ones, so you’re pretty sure he will help you out quickly. Or will he? He’s always been a little odd, even around you anyway.

It’s really curious to him, how you managed to get stuck that fast yet you just can’t get out by yourself. Will definitely ask if you did it on purpose while keeping a straight face and blank tone.

Gets you out in a longer time than he should’ve because he was busy trying to understand how you got in there in the first place. He won’t judge you for it, but he will absolutely bring it up around other people like it’s no big deal.

It’s nice that he was already there, did help, but embarrasses you in front of your friends. 6/10

ABYSS...

No matter what he’s doing when you call out for him or where he is, he will Acceleraise his way to you immediately! You are his top 1 priority!

He will however take a second to appreciate the display and chuckle a little bit to himself like “Hah… cute.” before actively looking for a solution because he can literally feel your embarrassment.

“How did you manage to do this?” He mumbles, and makes sure that you aren’t hurt or in any pain first of all. He will 100% reassure you through the whole process!

Abyss is smart and will get you out quickly and without making fun of you. Unlike Abel, he won’t mention it around anyone else, and makes a self note: needs to buy a bigger washing machine so you don’t get stuck again.

Sweet and efficient, very nice and comforting. 10/10, would get stuck again.

WIRTH...

He’s training and trying to improve his capacities when you call out for him. He’s used to you getting into such and such situations, so he just takes his time now. “What is it this time, (Y/N)?”

A bit dumbfounded when he sees the way you’ve managed to get stuck, will crackle up in laughter because as used as he is to see stuff like that with you, it always manages to surprise him.

He’s going to keep giggling as he helps you through, and you just wish you could wipe that smirk off his face but you can’t really do anything and just wait for him to help.

He even hesitates and feels like he should leave you like that, but he doesn’t want you to be upset at him, so he will get you out pretty easily and tease you about it later on. “Aww, c’mon, don’t sulk now~!”

Kind of a jerk, but in a lovable way. You need to find something to tease him back with, 7/10 though.

MARGARETTE...

They’re probably rehearsing or composing another one of these musical masterpieces to play on the piano when their beloved calls out for help.

They’ll gently chuckle and crouch down next to you. “Oh my! How’d you get in such a situation, dear?” Their arms are a little too bulky to reach out for you from the outside, so they’ll shift into their true form and easily reach for your shoulders so they can pull you out!

Margarette is one of the smart characters and will get you out of the washing machine in no time, very gently and gracefully, making sure you don’t get hurt or anything in the process.

Will give you a hug and gentle pats on the head to comfort you. “There, there~.” They won’t tease you about it nor make fun, but will definitely chuckle a little upon remembering it.

A mother figure, very nice and gentle. Cannot wait to hear the masterpiece they were busy composing, 10/10.

CARPACCIO...

He’s experimenting on lab rats and seems very engrossed with his occupation, so it will take him a little bit of time to hear you calling out for him.

Freezes when he sees you stuck head first inside the washing machine and stares blankly without a word for way longer than necessary. He’s got a little smirk and his lower eyelids rise up in amusement.

“Heh.” is all you can hear before he makes his way towards you and inspects you while he considers leaving you like this for a bit longer because it sure as hell is funny for him. But he knows you’ll be upset and he doesn’t want you to give him the silent treatment.

If he doesn’t find a quick way to get you out, he will stab his way through the washing machine (and give you a good scare as he does that) to free you! Terrifyingly sweet, he’s just staring with a very slight smirk and you know he will tease you about it.

Mean but at least he helped you out. You got scared for your life even though you know he wouldn’t hurt you. 7/10

ORTER...

He’s reading a book and he’s sure as hell he heard you call for him. He will carefully put down his book and look for the source of the muffled cry he just heard.

Despite being quite the jerk around others, Orter is a mature man, and he isn’t going to make any snarky remarks or make fun of you. He will sigh upon seeing you squirm, crouching next to you to check the mess you’ve been making.

“Calm down. If you’ve managed to find a way in, there’s obviously a way out.” Very rational throughout the whole process and effectively gets you out of the washing machine, inspecting you afterwards to make sure you aren’t hurt.

Much like Abyss, he will make a mental note to buy a larger washing machine, and kindly help you back up without teasing you or ever bringing it up around anyone else. If you apologise, he’ll tell you it’s nonsense.

Very logical and calm, efficient and polite. 10/10.

RENATUS...

Sure as hell taking a nice nap when he hears that scream of his name that could wake up the dead. He groans and stands up to lazily make his way to the laundry room.

He whistles when he sees you stuck there and gives a snarky chuckle. “Woah, just for me?” and you can physically feel your face heat up. He’s going to get closer to check the way you’re stuck and…

Whack! He’ll give your butt a playful slap before helping you out and laughing out loud at the ridiculous situation. After all, it’s not everyday that he gets to see his s/o in such an embarrassing state!

He will however stop teasing you if he sees you get uncomfortable and wrap his arms around your waist to comfort you with a softer chuckle. He might tease you later if he ever remembers this happened.

Again, jerk but in a lovable way. You need to give him that spank back tho, 7/10.

RYOH...

Like Abyss, you are his utmost priority and he will immediately drop anything he’s doing (probably admiring his reflection in a mirror) when he hears you call out for him!

He’ll chuckle when he sees you stuck in there, and you can tell his mind is running! But there is no time for this. If Ryoh's s/o is stuck in the washing machine, he must overcome this trial!

Will get you out in a manly way (whatever that means!) and you’ll even wonder how he did it so easily, that’s how flawless his whole performance is.

He might tease you if you’re comfortable with it, winking at you way too many times and making it pretty obvious what kind of ideas he has. If you aren’t, it’s also fine, he’s just going to cuddle you into forgetting it.

Ryoh is just a W man. There’s nothing else to say, 10/10.

KALDO...

It’s good that you called him, he was about to ruin yet another perfectly fine dish by pouring an ungodly amount of honey on top of it. He will pout in disappointment but come check what’s up.

“(Y/N), dear, are you having fun in there~?” He teases with a chuckle. “Can I join?” But upon hearing your frustrated groan, he will go into thinking mode and consider his options.

His first thought is to use honey to make it easier to pull you out, but he quickly dismisses it. He will, instead, pull on your clothes to avoid hurting your skin when you get out.

Will get you out, but your clothes are ruined, so he’ll give you his coat so you can cover up and not be too embarrassed. He might bring it up later and pretend he forgot how embarrassing it was for you, but really, he just wants to tease you.

Playful and cute, but he did ruin that shirt you liked a lot. 7/10.

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sulumuns-dootah · 6 months ago

Note

Hello again! Hope you are having a wonderful day!

If it isn’t much trouble, I would love to request something! Could you please do the Kings + Pyong, Paimon, and Bimet with an MC who is a skilled anime style artist and makes their own characters? Including hentai lmao

I hope this isn’t too much! Idk if I have already sent a request that you haven’t answered yet so if I have you can ignore this one lol

I wish you a Happy Halloween! 🧡🖤🎃

WHB kings (+ Ppyong, Paimon & Bimet) w/ Anime/Manga artist

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

A/N: Hi! Hope you enjoyed your Halloween too and got a lot of tricks and/or treats! ^^

Characters: Satan, Paimon, Ppyong, Mammon, Bimet, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Belphegor, Lucifer

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Satan for some reason loves posing for you as a reference (even for the NSFW works)

Maybe because you get to appreciate every muscle on his body?

Definitelly would ask you to draw him in your style

I've seen bikers have photos of their s/o stuck to their bike mirrors so I think Satan would stick your drawing of the two of you there

Now, when it comes to your hentai stuff... Are you sure that position between those two characters would work?

There's only one way to find out!

And let's be honest... After Satan tries a certain position out with you, drawing is the last thing on your mind by then

༺☆༻

Paimon is your fan no.1!

If you're okay with monetising your art, they'll happily handle your Etsy store with stickers, prints and pins

But if you don't want to, they're fine with that too

They're just happy they have such a talented s/o!

Similarly to Satan, they'll love to pose for your art

Paimon also loves to help you out with color palettes

They do tend to steer you towards pastels, but if that's not your style, they'll try to keep within your color schemes

༺☆༻

*gasp* Draw him!

Now draw him in his human from!

And now his human form hanging out with Minhyeok!

Ppyong loves seeing your creations come to life and even offer insight

Oop, Ppyong is off to human world to get some human energy! Could you draw something for Minhyeok?

Don't worry, Ppyong will make sure to save some chocolate for you for your hard work ^^

Oh, but you might wanna hide your NSFW art a secret

Especially if you sometimes draw other demons without their knowledge

Or they'll know very soon since Ppyong can't keep a secret for the life of him

༺☆༻

Oh, you're an artist?

Okay, here's a set of some of the most expensive art supplies you might need

Also, here are the keys to your new gallery

If you don't want your art display, that's okay too...

You can just turn the space into your studio

Mammon is happy to have such a talent around him

He's secretly hoping you'll draw him too, but doesn't want to outright ask because he understands you can't force art

Seriously though, if you need anything, he'll do his research and get you the best stuff out there

༺☆༻

If you don't make money from your art, then Bimet will make you to

Open commissions, sell merch, auction your stuff off...

Only a idiot wouldn't be selling their art when it's this good

Congratulations, you've got yourself an agent

No discussions!

And go to bed early tonight! You have a showcase tomorrow and it needs to be installed as early as possible!

Also, take a week off for the next Tartaros Con! You'll be having a booth there!

You might be complaining now, but once the money starts rolling in, you'll have Bimet all putty in your hands

At some point, even Mammon might get jealous of how much attention you're getting from Bimet

༺☆༻

Just like with anything else, Leviathan will pretend to not be bothered

But on the inside, he's kinda jealous

How dare you have a talent he doesn't?

A great way to make him warm up to you in that regard would be "accidentally" forgeting a study of him somewhere where he finds it

From that point on, he'll be more okay with you and sometimes would even ask to see your creations

Just maybe, ask for permission the next time you want to draw him

What if you accidentally draw him on a day when his outfit isn't as nice or hair doesn't stay as it should?

Asking him also has the added bonus of being able to draw him naked :)

༺☆༻

Wait, that means you can draw anything, right?

Okay, how about you draw Bael in a funny outfit?

Hm... How about Princess Leviathan in a tall tower and the brave knight Beel coming to save her?

I know you expected Beel asking you to draw something NSFW, but nope

This man is an endless shitpost generator and there's so much stuff he can come up with before he even gets to anything remotely dirty

R.I.P. to you if those drawings get leaked though

Now you've got some angry kings and nobles banging at your door and that lovable bastard is gone as always

༺☆༻

Yes, Asmo loves your NSFW artwork

Still, I can also imagine him also appreciating your SFW works

And it's not even in the 'haha you're so funny, let's fuck' kind of way

I'd kinda like to believe that showing him your art would flip on the 'best dad' switch and he'll want to put it up on a fridge

Oh, but maybe you might wanna practice drawing bodies to help you with different angles and such?

Yep, here it is...

The Asmo we expected will now wear even less of his sheet so you have a nice view of his muscles and body to get a good idea of how they work

Also, good luck showing him your hentai art, because he will suggest more pleasurable positions fro your characters

And yes, he will try to show you in praxis

༺☆༻

Oh hey, that's cool! Belphie loves anime!

If he sometimes gets an interesting dream, he'll share it with you and maybe you can base a story on it

Whenever he wakes up, feel free to share what you've created in the meantime

Belphie will give you his honest opinion and what you could improve - if there is anything

If there's a convention happening and he's going there, he'll take you with him and even encourage you to set up a booth

Also, if you draw you two together, he'll have Beleth frame it and put it up on a wall soemwhere where he can see it whenever he wakes up

༺☆༻

Proud dad just like Asmo

You have a talent and you should show it

Another king who will give you a space to either turn into a gallery or your very own studio

If you're not against it, Luci would also like you to hold art therapy sessions in the psychiatric ward of the hospital

Oh, also one of your biggest fans becomes Gamigin once he sees you draw Lucifer as he's posing for your studies

You better learn how to draw dragons fast :D

Also, yes, Jjok is gonna be as annoying as Ppyong when it comes to your drawing

#what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb satan #whb ppyong #whb paimon #whb mammon #whb bimet #whb leviathan #whb beelzebub #whb belphegor #whb asmodeus #whb lucifer

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silvergyus · 8 months ago

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thoughts on txt touching themselves while looking at their s/o's selfies? what do they moan under their breath? what kinda selfies do they look at? IDK!! and need to know ur thoughts :3

hehe this is such a fun ask! thank u for sending!! I hope I captured what you were thinking

YEONJUN

loves selfies in clothes he bought you. makes him a little possessive, but knowing he treated you with that pretty top, pretty bra peeking out the top gets him going. bonus points if you send him mirror selfies in lingerie he bought you. bonus bonus points if you're wearing a necklace he bought you. his favorite is the one your sent of your necklace with his initials dangling between your tits. the type to send you videos of his pretty noises whenever he gets off without you. black screen but you can hear his heavy breaths and pinched whines. imo he's the whiniest of all the boys. gets louder and needier as he gets closer. always texts you goodnight after.

SOOBIN

any selfie with a lot of cleavage tbh. he's pretty basic. man loves your boobs. loves selfies of you sitting, either from above or in a mirror. likes seeing your boobs and the bonus squish of your thighs. I feel like he'd like knee socks so bonus points if you're wearing those. please make sure to include the plush thigh at the top of the sock. like yeonjun, loves seeing your necklace dangling between your tits. likes it when you look cute and sexy at the same time. soft smile, big eyes, looking up at the camera like you look up at him his breathing gets so heavy and his voice drops. muttering quietly to himself in the dark of his room as he stares at your picture on his screen. pretty selfie you took, not even to tease him, just a pretty pic for your insta story. you're wearing his favorite top, lowcut to show off just about everything but your nipples. he thinks about how hard they get for him, how soft your skin is when he buries his face between your boobs. stays pretty quiet until he cums, a loud, staggering moan falling from his lips. blushes later when you ask if he liked the pic you posted.

BEOMGYU

honestly the selfie type doesn't matter with him. when he misses you he misses you. is the type of person to save your pics in a folder titled "tax returns 2022" like it isn't image files saved in his gallery. keeps his voice low, but makes the most total noises. voice starts off deep but his lil "ah, ah!"s betray him when they increase in pitch. has the loudest wet sounds as he strokes with the heaviest glob of spit. has occasionally sent you voice messages of him getting off and they are sinful. talks you through everything he's doing, all the while you can hear the strokes, hear his breathing getting more ragged, hear his deep voice struggle against his high-pitched whines. cums with a loud whine. breathes heavily into the mic for a few seconds, catching his breath, before asking for you to return the favor.

TAEHYUN

someone once said tyun likes giving you money to get your nails done so your hands look extra pretty wrapped around his cock and I personally haven't stopped thinking about that ever since. loves your hands. you know that pose he does where he tugs his lip down a bit? do that and he'll save the image for alone in his bed on tour. hands on your chest, hands on your face, hands on your thighs. anything with your hands. bonus points if you send him pics of you touching yourself. your pretty fingers in your cunt make him crazy. he cums thinking about the noises you make when it's his fingers inside you. strokes his cock as close as he can to the way you do. imagines your hands instead. really good at staying quiet but listen closely and you'll catch the "mmf, mmph" he tries to bite back.

HUENINGKAI

also loves any picture where you look cute. send him a pic of you in pink and ruffles and he'll be blushing, hiding his face behind his hoodie sleeves, and rushing off to take care of the tent in his pants. LOVES to see you in panties. doesn't matter if it's expensive lingerie or your regular everyday pairs. loves your hips, ass, thighs, and tummy and your panties are all those parts in one pic. thinks he's quieter than he really is. taehyun was such a good roommate never bringing it up, but now kai isn't as quiet as he thinks. and he's only gotten louder since getting his own room. the hiss when he first grabs his cock is audible from outside the door. little "oh"s moaned out with the deepest voice when he zooms in on the way your panties squeeze against your tummy and thighs. turns his head into the pillow to stifle his moans as he thinks about you riding him.

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #soobin hard hours #beomgyu hard hours #taehyun hard hours #hueningkai hard hours #ari's mailbox 📬#ari's 500 followers celebration 🪩#ari writes

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theebubblegumbitch · 1 year ago

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Innocence is Gone~

virgin!Ethan Landry x fem!ghostface!Reader

Synopsis: It all started with a passing comment about poor Ethan dying a virgin... Lucky for him, you weren't gonna let that happen.

Warnings: ghostface!fem!reader, sub!virgin!ethan landry, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it tf up), overstim if you squint, death/murder mentions, knife mention/use for intimidation

⚠️You are responsible for your own media consumption. Please read responsibly. 18+ viewer discretion is advised.⚠️

"Am I gonna die a virgin?" was the question Ethan had openly posed towards the group during a discussion about the most recent Ghostface killings. Everyone else had shrugged it off as a funny joke, just awkward Ethan being himself, awkward. But you had thought he actually sounded legitimately concerned for that possible fate. You thought it would be best to try and offer some reassurance to the boy, to ease some of the tension and fear, and also to get any potential suspicious persons off your tail. "None of us are going to die Ethan, at least not for many, many years so don't even worry about that okay?" He looked at you for a second before nodding, still slightly anxious at the possibility of death, or maybe at the eye contact the two of you made for a fraction of a second. However, no matter the cause, it did make you feel slightly bad for lying to him.

It was now about a week after that little interaction, and you were quickly approaching Ethan's dorm, with ghostface costume fully adorned. You had tucked a knife into the waistband of your pants, although you didn't plan on using it for more than intimidation. You had planned to kill Ethan at first as he seemed like easy prey to you, but now you thought it best to keep him alive for now. After all, you could still have some fun with him.

You had now made your way through an open window, both cursing and praising Ethan in your head for this helpful but incredibly stupid action. You were in his bathroom now, the fresh smell of his shampoo still lingering along with the steam on the mirror. "He must've just finished showering." You thought to yourself as you examined the empty room, making your way to the door. You went to twist the nob as slowly as possible so as to not alert the man of your presence yet. Upon opening the door just a crack, you saw Ethan standing next to his bed shirtless, luckily for you with his back towards the door.

You slowly opened it more until you could slip through, now taking the time to remove the knife from your waistband. You quickly made your way across the room and subdued the man, holding his hands behind his back, knife pressing ever so gently against his throat. "Good evening Ethan, would you like to play a little game..." Your modulated voice asked as you felt him slightly tremble in your grasp. "Oh my god please don't kill me! I don't wanna die I'll do anything you ask please just please..." He was begging you to spare his life incessantly, voice wavering as he spoke. "Oh no Ethan, honey, I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to help you with your little...problem." You whispered that last bit in his ear as you dragged the blunt edge of the knife along it.

He shivered. "W-what problem are you talking about? And you're holding a knife against my face so it sure feels like you want to kill me!" He was rambling like crazy, and you would be lying if you said it didn't slightly turn you on. Well, maybe more than slightly... "I can do away with the knife if you promise to be good. Can you do that for me Ethan? Can you promise?" You lifted the knife from his skin ever so slightly to show you were serious. "Yes, yes I'll be good I promise you, just please put the knife away!" He was almost whimpering now, and it made you comply to his request even quicker, swiftly tucking the weapon back into your waistband. “The knife’s away now pretty boy.” You whispered in his ear once again, using your other free hand to trace simple shapes onto his arm.

“O-okay now, who are you! And if you don’t want to kill me then, what are you here to help me with?!” He had eased up a little once he realized the knife wasn’t in your hand anymore, but he was still shaking, obviously very afraid. “Do you really wanna know what I’m here for Ethan?” You asked in your normal volume. “Y-yes I do.” That was enough for you as you clutched at your mask, slowly removing it. “I’m here…” You threw the mask down on the bed in front of him. “…to help you…” You let go of his arms and placed a hand on his waist. “…with your little…” You spun him around to face you as you pushed him down onto the bed. “…virginity problem.” He was gawking at you now, completely slack jawed. “Y/N? You’re Ghostface?? And you want to have sex with me?” Both of those things were true, but you couldn’t let him know about the first one. At least not yet. “No of course I’m not actually Ghostface! You can get this costume pretty much anywhere online.” You said as you messed with the long black fabric. You couldn’t wait to take it off for him.

“But…” you paused for a second to straddle his lap, watching him inhale sharply. “…I do want to fuck you pretty boy.” You leaned in and went to suck a mark into his neck before stopping yourself. “Are you okay with that Ethan?” You gazed into his eyes as he started at you blankly, slowing nodding. “I need you to say it Eth.” You placed your hands on his shoulders, ready to move off of him if he didn’t comply. “Y-yes please I want you.” Finally, you could have some actual fun with him. You placed a kiss on his cheek before removing your ghostface robe, leaving you completely bare except for you red lace underwear.

“H- holy shit…” Ethan gasped out as his eyes trailed your chest. He looked fidgety, and you felt his dick strain under your lap. He was what you can only assume to be painfully hard. You decided to lightly brush down on him with your core as a simple, but effective gesture to let him know you knew how needy he was. “Wow that was fast, do I really turn you on that much Eth?” You asked the flustered boy as you sucked dark purple marks into his neck, watching them bloom like bloody flowers. “Y-yea you do. I think you’re so hot y/n really I do, I’ve wanted you so bad for so long…” He started whining a little the more he rambled on. You wouldn’t tell him this, but it made you embarrassingly wet. “Holy fuck you’re so wet I can feel it…” Ethan had panted out as he experimented with grabbing your breasts. Well so much for him not knowing his pathetic-ness turns me on You thought as you felt his shy, shaky hands grow a bit more bold.

“Can I put it in now? Please y/n? You need it too I can tell just p-please I’ll be good!” The curly haired boy begged you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. He was right, if you wanted him before, want couldn’t even describe what you felt now. “Yea pretty boy I’ll put it in, I’ll make you feel good.” You stumbled out your words as you hastily pulled the drawstrings of his pants, not even bothering to pull down his boxers before pulling out his achy cock. “Impressive Landry…” You purred in his ear. Maybe you should fuck econ nerds more often… You pumped him a few times in your hand before properly positioning yourself to allow him to slip in, a task made incredibly easy by your impressive arousal. You slowly eased down, the pair of you sharing a gasp as you hit the hilt. He was as deep as he could possibly be in this position and he loved it.

“O-oh my god… You’re so warm a-and wet and fuck!” You had started to move during his praises, gaining a slow and steady rhythm, but you were pent up, and it wasn’t enough. “Eth I know it’s your first time and all, but i’m about to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you. Kay pretty boy?” You panted out at him as you picked up the pace. You could tell you probably had him thoroughly fucked out already judging by just how awestruck he look. So much that he could only nod.

And that was all you needed. You picked up the pace more and more, hearing Ethan get louder and louder under you. “Nghh- Ah- FUCK y/n please you have to get off i’m gonna cum please.” You knew he was worried about the lack of protection, you also knew that you couldn’t care less. You were so close to orgasm that there was no way you were stopping now. “It’s okay cum in me don’t worry it’s okay hon.” You breathed out as fast as humanly possible, your mouth desperate to match the speed of your body. Not long at all after, you felt Ethan buck his hips up harshly into you, and you were filled with a sudden warmth, one you’ve never felt before.

Ethan was the first guy to come inside of you, and the thought of that alone led you to your peak. Strings of moans and curses flowed from your lips like silk as you slowed down before eventually going limp over him. You felt his hands snake around your waist and grip you tight, and you knew you got exactly what you wanted.

“Now you can help me kill Tara.”

Author’s Note: IT’S FINALLY OUT!! my premiere Ethan Landry fic!! I hope you all enjoyed it cause I had sooo much fun writing it! I’d like to give a shoutout to some people who pushed me to get this one finished so without further adieu…

MANY THANKS TO: @taylormarieee @ivorysfilms @ethanlandrysrightballsack and @stickbodybighead !!! They were so supportive and kind and they are overall lovely people!!!

#~grace writes!#smut #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry #scream 6 #scream #ghostface #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry x fem!reader #ghostface reader

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doctorbitchcrxft · 6 months ago

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A Very Supernatural Christmas | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: discussions of childhood trauma lol, discussions of religious trauma lololol, canon violence, canon gore, talking about Dean's deal sad face

Word Count: 7223

A/N: One of my favorite episodes of all time ever. I am so excited to share this with you guys. Thank you, thank you, thank you for all of the support. I love y’all!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

In the middle of nowhere in Michigan, you and Dean posed as FBI agents investigating a holly jolly potential case.

“Um, my daughter and I were in our beds,” the woman before you shakily explained.

“Mike was downstairs decorating the tree. I heard a thump on the roof, and then, I heard Mike scream. And now I’m talking to the FBI.”

“And you didn't see any of it?” Dean questioned.

She shook her head tearfully. “No, he was… he was just gone.”

“The doors were locked? There was no forced entry?” you asked.

“That’s right,” she replied.

“Does anybody else have a key?” you suggested.

“My parents.”

“Where do they live?”

“Florida.”

Sam then walked out of the house. “ Thanks for letting me have a look around, Mrs. Walsh. I think we, uh, got just about everything we need. We’re all set.”

“We’ll be in touch,” Dean told her.

The three of you started down the steps.

“Agents?” Mrs. Walsh called.

You turned to face her.

“The police said my husband might have been kidnapped.”

“Could be,” Dean shrugged.

“Then… why haven’t the kidnappers called? O-Or demanded a ransom? It’s three days till Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?” she began to cry.

“We’re very sorry,” you said empathetically. You watched the distressed woman turn to go back inside, and the heavy Christmas wreath on the door clunked against the door when she shut it.

“Find anything?” Dean asked Sam as the three of you walked away from the house.

Sam sighed. “Stocking, mistletoe… this.” He took something out of his pocket and dropped it into Dean’s hand.

You inspected it. “A tooth?” you asked upon seeing the bloody bone.

“Where was this?” Dean looked up at Sam and away from the tooth.

“In the chimney,” Sam replied.

“Chimney? No way a man fits up a chimney. It’s too narrow,” Dean grimaced.

“At least, not in one piece,” you winced.

“Alright, so, if dad went up the chimney—”

“We need to find out what dragged him up there,” Sam finished.

***

Christmas had never been a completely happy time for you. Growing up Catholic, there was always a hint of, perhaps, fear that came with the holiday. The idea that Christ was supposed to come again, and his second coming would mean the end of the world was unsettling to you, even as an incredibly pious child.

Working jobs around the holidays always managed to recreate that unsettled feeling for you. Something so gruesome like the case you were dealing with now around such a happy holiday always made you nostalgic for a childhood you never had: an innocent one.

Around your motel room, Sam was pinning pictures of demons up while you researched on your laptop. The door opened, and Dean came inside.

“So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?” Dean smirked, carrying a brown paper bag.

Sam mirrored Dean’s expression. “Yep. It's, uh, it’s actually Dick Van Dyke.”

Dean looked confused, but you snickered.

“Who?” Dean asked.

“Dude,” you said, “Mary Poppins?”

“Who’s that?”

“Oh, god, you’re hopeless,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month,” Dean explained.

“The other guy get dragged up the chimney, too?” Sam asked.

“Don’t know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof,” Dean shrugged. “So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?”

“Actually, I have an idea,” Sam replied. “Uh, it's gonna sound crazy.”

“What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to me?” Dean deadpanned.

“How ‘bout evil Santa,” you smirked.

Dean considered a moment before nodding. “Yeah, that’s crazy.”

“Yeah… I mean, I’m just saying that there’s some version of the anti-Claus in every culture,” Sam said while he showed Dean drawings of the creature. “You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter. Whatever you want to call it, there’s all sorts of lore.”

“Saying what?” Dean looked incredulous.

“Saying, back in the day, Santa’s brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked.”

“By hauling their ass up chimneys?” Dean snorted. “So, this is your theory, huh? Santa’s shady brother?”

Sam shrugged. “Well, ah, I’m just saying, that’s what the lore says.”

“Santa doesn’t have a brother. There is no Santa.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re the one who told me that in the first place, remember,” Sam sassed at his brother.

Dean looked down, seeming to feel a little guilty.

Finally, Sam sighed. “Yeah, you know what, I could be wrong. I gotta be wrong.”

Dean shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not.”

You and Sam were confused.

“I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched,” Dean explained.

“Where?” Sam asked.

***

The place Dean was referring to was a cutesy little craft fair called “Santa’s Village.” Children played and people bustled around wearing Christmas costumes.

“It does kind of lend credence to the theory, don’t it?” Dean remarked, looking around himself.

“Yeah, but anti-Claus? Couldn’t be,” Sam replied.

“It’s a Christmas miracle. Hey, speaking of, we should have one this year,” Dean suggested casually.

You remained quiet, feeling almost sorrowful at his statement given he’d discussed bringing this up to Sam with you.

“Have one what?”

“A Christmas.”

Sam scoffed. “No, thanks.”

“Aw, c’mon, Sam,” you said, swallowing your emotions.

“Yeah, we’ll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little,” Dean continued.

“Dean, those weren’t exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know,” Sam reminded his brother.

“What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases.”

“Whose childhood are you talking about?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Sam.”

“No! Just… no.”

You and Dean were both surprised by Sam’s petulance. “Alright, Grinch,” Dean snarked. He walked ahead, and you remained by his side.

“What’s Sam talking about?” you asked quietly.

“Ah, I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I mean, Dad was out all the time, and Sammy and I fought… a lot… as kids, but I didn’t think it’d scar him.”

You turned back to Sam who still seemed lost in thought.

“Hey, Scrooge,” you called, which seemed to shake the younger brother out of his own head, “you comin’?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m with you.” He caught back up to you and Dean.

“What are we looking for, again?” Dean asked him.

“Um…” Sam trailed off, “lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets.”

“Great. So we’re looking for a pimp Santa,” Dean said dryly. “Why the sweets?”

“Think about it, Dee,” you replied. “If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer. Which is wrong on just… so many levels.”

Sam chuckled.

“How does this thing know who’s been naughty and who’s been nice?” Dean questioned.

Sam shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Dean turned toward a man dressed as Santa taking pictures with a child whose mother stood close by. “Maybe we do,” he noted.

***

Later that night, you and the Winchesters were just about to confront and kill who you thought was your Krampus. Fortunately for the Santa actor from earlier in the day, you realized the man was just a lonely old creep.

After an uncomfortable rendition of “Silent Night” that Dean led you and Sam in singing in an attempt to explain why you were in the creepy Santa’s house, you slumped down in the backseat of the Impala.

“Well, back to square one, I guess,” you sighed. “Also, Dean, couldn’t you have picked a song you actually knew the words to?”

“Hey, I did know the words,” he replied, beginning to drive off.

“Yeah, all two of ‘em,” Sam chimed in.

You giggled. “Hey, Sam?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“Why do you hate Christmas so much?”

The younger brother sighed. “(Y/N)...”

Dean took the opportunity to jump into the conversation. “I mean, I admit it. Y’know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids.”

“ ‘Bumpy’?” Sam scoffed.

“That was then. We’ll do it right this year,” Dean tried.

“Look, Dean. If you and (Y/N) want to have Christmas, knock yourselves out. Just don’t involve me.” Sam shifted in his seat to face the dark night that had fallen outside of the car.

Dean grumbled, “Oh, yeah, that’d be great. Me and (Y/N) making cranberry molds.”

You knew Dean wasn’t actually opposed to just enjoying Christmas with you, but he wanted to involve his brother.

***

“Wanna smoke?” you asked Dean.

Sam was still wide awake in his bed, and you and Dean had some things to talk about without the younger Winchester present.

He nodded and followed you out of the room.

Despite the lack of snow on the ground, you were bundled in one of Dean’s hoodies to protect you from the slight chill in the air.

“I think you’re turnin’ me into a fiend,” Dean commented as you lit your joint.

“Well, I’d rather you smoke a plant than drown yourself in booze,” you replied, a slight tremble in your voice from the cold.

“I meant to tell you earlier,” Dean began, taking the joint from you and looking at the ground, “you’ve got a real beautiful voice.”

You laughed softly and hopped up on the trunk of the Impala. “You’re only sayin’ that ‘cause you and Sam are terrible.”

“I’m serious,” he said, blowing the smoke at you playfully.

You scrunched up your nose and shut your eyes to avoid the puff. When you reopened them, you found Dean staring at you with that confusing expression again. After all this time, you still couldn’t place what that look meant.

“What?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips.

He shook his head, still admiring you and smirking. “Nothin’.”

“So, do you want me to talk to Sam? About Christmas?” Dean’s intense stare was making you nervous, and you needed to break it up with the conversation you initially wanted to have with him.

“Nah,” Dean shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll come around.”

You opened your arms to him and gestured for him to come lean against you. He turned his back to the Impala, and you wrapped your arms around him. You kissed his shoulder before placing your chin on top of it. The two of you just sat like that in silence in the cold, enjoying each other’s company while getting lost in thought.

“What was your Christmas like? As a kid, I mean?” Dean asked, breaking the silence.

You picked your chin up off his shoulder and stuck your hands in your pockets. “Oh, gosh,” you sighed. “It was always a little less ‘candy canes and Rudolph’ and a little more ‘fear and condemnation’.”

Dean jumped up on the trunk next to you and turned, clearly a little surprised by your answer. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “Christmas always kinda felt like a threat to me. Y’know, ‘Jesus is gonna come again’ and all that.”

“That’s… weirdly dirty,” Dean commented.

You gently nudged his shoulder with yours. “Perv. Meaning Jesus is gonna come back to life and, like… destroy the planet. My mom always said Christmas was a reminder that this is not our true home.”

“This, as in, earth?” he asked, genuine intrigue in his eyes.

You nodded. “And we’re all gonna end up being judged. And if you don’t believe or follow the commandments, you’re sentenced to Hell.”

“Jesus,” Dean grimaced. “That’s a little dark to be telling a kid.”

“Tell me about it,” you smirked. “But… if that’s the truth, at least we know I’ll be seeing you again.” You turned to him, smiling a little lopsidedly.

He tried to return your smile, but his heart wasn’t in it. “I’m scared, (Y/N).”

You nodded. “I know. Do you wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head.

You took a moment to let his mind recover from his anxieties. “What were your Christmases like growing up? You said they were good, but you never told me why they were good.”

“Uh, let’s see,” Dean began, reflecting on something in his memory. “There was this one time when Dad was supposed to make it back from a hunting trip. He’d promised Sammy he’d be home for Christmas. But, uh, Dad never showed.”

You looked at him sadly.

Dean’s eyes remained focused on his hands in his lap. “I was maybe twelve. Sammy was eight. And on Christmas Eve, while he was asleep, I went out and found this really nice house.”

“You did not!” you scolded playfully, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

“I did,” Dean chuckled. “Only, I didn’t know they were chick presents. Sam was pissed when he got a Barbie instead of the green army men he’d been asking for.”

“You did the best you could,” you reminded him.

Dean shrugged. “And, uh, since he never made it back, Sam gave me the present he was planning on giving to Dad.” He thumbed the amulet around his neck and showed it to you.

“That’s so sweet,” you smiled, a tinge of nostalgic sadness behind your smile. “My little brother and I always gave each other what we could. Normally, it was just stupid little things from the gas stations around or something.” You smiled, remembering your brother fondly. “When he was seven, Steven gave me a little bracelet. He stole it out of a girl’s backpack pocket when she was waiting for her parents to finish booking a room in the motel lobby. He was a great pickpocket; you guys would’ve gotten along great.”

Dean chuckled.

“But anyway, uh, it was a little friendship bracelet. I was so upset when I grew out of it,” you said. “Biggest regret of my life is burning it with his body.”

Dean nodded somberly. “Why’d you do it?”

You shrugged. “I kept telling myself, ‘He doesn’t live in the stuff. Keeping his stuff doesn’t keep him alive.’ And I’d grown out of it, so I figured, I’d never have any use for it again. But, uh, I was an angry teenager. I was so angry at him for so long after he killed himself. I definitely threw the bracelet in the fire in a moment of anger.”

Dean just stared at you, and once again, you couldn’t read his expression.

“You keep giving me that look,” you said, staring deeply into his beautiful eyes.

“What look?” he asked. Dean clearly knew what you were talking about, as his face hadn’t really changed from the look in question; there was simply a slight tease behind his eyes on top of it.

“That look,” you said, giggling. “It frustrates me so much ‘cause it’s, like, the only facial expression on the planet I can’t read.” “Then, I’m definitely not telling you what it means now,” Dean taunted, still smirking.

You rolled your eyes and hopped off the car. Dean grabbed your arm and spun you back around to face him, putting you back on the trunk and standing between your legs. He kissed you deeply, hands eagerly trying to pull you closer despite there being no more room between the two of you.

“Dean,” you said between kisses. “Dean—”

“What?” Dean pulled back just long enough to ask you and then returned to kissing you.

“We have to go to bed now, c’mon,” you replied.

“Aw, c’mon, not yet,” Dean groaned, trailing his lips down your neck.

You sighed shakily at the feeling of his soft lips against the sensitive skin, and your eyes closed in content. “C’mon,” you whined. “I’m freezing.”

“Fine,” he groaned.

***

The next day, another poor soul had gone missing. According to the son of the man who was abducted, Santa had dragged his father up the chimney. As you left the house, Sam noticed a wreath on the hearth he’d felt noteworthy enough to ask the grieving wife about.

“Wreaths, huh?” Dean taunted, sauntering away from the woman’s house. “Sure you didn’t want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer.”

“We’ve seen that wreath before, Dean,” Sam said, ignoring his brother’s flippance.

“Where?” you and Dean asked in unison.

“The Walshes’. Yesterday.”

Dean eyed Sam curiously. “I know. I was just testing you.”

You rolled your eyes, ducking down into the Impala.

***

“I’m an idiot,” you groaned, dropping your head back.

Sam sat up from behind his laptop. “What, why?”

Dean turned to you from his spot on your shared bed as well.

“That smell,” you said. “Guys, we’re not dealing with Krampus.” You laughed at your own stupidity. “I should’ve known it from the wreath on the door at the Walshes’ house!”

“(Y/N), would you cut to the chase?” Dean asked dryly.

“It’s meadowsweet,” you revealed.

Dean whistled mockingly. “Wow! Amazing. What the hell is meadowsweet?”

“It’s pretty rare, and it’s probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore,” Sam replied.

“Pagan lore?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Meadowsweet’s for human sacrifice. It’s kinda like chum for the gods. The gods are drawn to it, and they’d stop by and snack on the nearest human.”

“Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?” Dean wondered.

“Almost every Christmas tradition is pagan, Dee,” you replied.

“Okay, Ms. Catholic, I thought it was Jesus’s birthday,” Dean snarked, a smile playing on his lips.

“No, uh, I had to unlearn that when I left the Church. Jesus’s birthday was probably in the fall. Yule was the winter solstice festival the church stole and renamed ‘Christmas.’ ‘Cause, y’know, eurocentrism. Hooray,” you explained.

Sam added, “The Yule log, the tree, even Santa’s red suit; that’s all remnants of pagan worship.”

“How do you know that? What are you two freaks gonna tell me next? Easter bunny’s Jewish?” Dean remarked.

Both of you rolled your eyes.

“So, you really think we’re gonna be dealing with a pagan god?” The older brother quirked a brow.

“Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, god of the winter solstice,” Sam noted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dean huffed, “And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths…”

“Yeah, it’s pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying ‘Come kill us’.”

Dean deadpanned, “Great.”

“Wait, Hold Nickar makes sense, though,” you chimed in, something dawning on you. “Guess what he gives you in return?”

“Lap dances, hopefully,” Dean smirked.

You gave him a look. “Mild weather.”

Dean looked out of the window. “Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan.”

“For instance,” shrugged Sam.

“Do we know how to kill it yet?” Dean asked.

“Have you met me? That’s all I’ve been looking for the past hour.”

“While you work on that—” Sam turned to his brother, “we got to figure out where they’re selling those wreaths.”

“You think they’re selling them on purpose?” Dean questioned, sitting up on his bed.

“Feeding the victims to this thing?”

Sam sighed. “Let’s find out.”

“You keep workin’ your pagan-god-killin’ angle, (Y/N),” Dean told you, moving over to you. “Sam and I ’ll be back soon.” He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead, and your cheeks heated at the brief contact.

***

“How ‘re you supposed to kill a god, (Y/N)?” Bobby droned through the phone.

“I don’t know, dude, that’s what I’m asking you,” you sighed. “I mean, I’ve been pouring through this shit online for hours. I’m ready to pull my fucking hair out.”

“Lemme make a few calls, kid, and I’ll see what I can do,” Bobby said.

“Thanks, Bobby. You’re the best.” You sat back in your chair and clicked your phone off.

Almost as if on cue, Dean burst through the door with Sam trailing behind him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” the older one drawled. “Got somethin’ for me?”

“I wish. Just sent Bobby lookin’,” you replied. “Got anything for me?”

“Actually, yeah,” Dean said. “That store we went to? Turns out, lady named Madge Carrigan gave ‘em to the store for free. How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?”

“A couple hundred dollars, at least,” Sam answered while you clacked away at your computer looking for Madge Carrigan’s home address.

“Sounds pretty suspicious,” you said absentmindedly.

“Remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?” Dean laughed while he took his jacket off.

“You mean, the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?” Sam responded, an unimpressed expression crossing his features.

“Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it.” He sat on the bed closest to you and went to lean over and look at your computer.

Despite the fact that you were still on the phone, Sam asked Dean, “Alright, dude… What’s going on with you?”

You stopped typing, and both you and Dean sat up to face Sam.

“I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden?” continued the brunet. “Why do you want Christmas so bad?”

“Why are you so against it?” Dean challenged. “I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?”

Sam’s voice became heavy with emotion. “No, that has nothing to do with it. I-I mean, I-I just… I don’t get it. You haven’t talked about Christmas in years.”

“Well, yeah.” Dean’s voice had less of an edge. “This is my last year.”

Sam huffed out a quick breath. “I know. That’s why I can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I can’t just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything’s okay, when I know next Christmas, you’ll be dead.” The near-casualness Sam spoke about Dean’s almost-five-month-out deadline with made your breath catch in your throat. “I just can’t,” Sam finished, voice almost too quiet for you to hear.

The three of you went silent. To distract yourself from the heaviness in the room, you went back to typing on your laptop to find Madge Carrigan’s address and any information on her that suggested she really was your bad guy.

You could feel Dean staring at you, though, and you knew he needed you at that moment. So you shut your laptop and got into bed with him. He laid against your chest, and you kept your arms around him tightly. Soon, you drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

***

The next day, you and Dean headed to the Carrigan’s home. Sam stayed behind to research and see if you had missed anything in your search the night before. The house you arrived at was decorated with cutesy Christmas decorations and screamed the 1950s “American dream.”

“This is where Mrs. Wreath lives, huh?” Dean remarked, looking around. “Can’t you just feel the evil pagan vibe?” He rapped his knuckles against the door.

A blonde, middle-aged woman in a sweater opened it. “Yes?” she answered sweetly.

“Please tell me you’re the Madge Carrigan who makes the meadowsweet wreaths,” Dean said.

“Why, yes I am,” she smiled widely.

“Ha! Bingo.” Dean turned to you with a grin.

“We just moved into the neighborhood,” you lied, gesturing between yourself and Dean, “and we were mingling with the Sylars the other day. They had one of your beautiful wreaths on their fireplace. He and I were immediately in love with it.”

“You were? Well, isn't that meadowsweet just the finest-smelling thing you ever smelled?” Mrs. Carrigan’s smile had not lessened since she opened the front door; it was creeping you out.

“It is; it sure is,” you replied. “But the problem is that all your wreaths had sold out before we got the chance to buy one.”

“Oh, fudge!” she pouted.

“You wouldn’t have another one that we could buy from you, would you?” Dean questioned.

“Oh, no, I’m afraid those were the only ones I had for this season.”

“Aww…” you whined, deflating.

“Tell me something, why did you decide to make them out of meadowsweet?” your partner asked.

A man who you assumed was Mr. Carrigan came down the staircase behind the woman as she answered, “Why, the smell, of course! I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything finer.”

‘She… already said that,’ you thought, but you kept the smile plastered on your face.

“What's going on, honey?” Mr. Carrigan asked his wife. You noticed his outfit of choice was a cardigan and slacks, and he held an old-fashioned pipe. The two reminded you very much of “Leave it to Beaver.”

“Well, just this nice couple asking about my wreaths, dear.”

“Oh, the wreaths are fine,” Mr. Carrigan affirmed. “Fine wreaths. Oh, care for some peanut brittle?” He held out a tin, and Dean took a piece.

You gave him a harsh glare, preventing him from raising the brittle to his lips. Politely, you bid the couple goodbye and kept Dean from snacking while he started to drive.

As soon as you got out of the line of the Carrigans’ sights, you took the peanut brittle and chucked it out of the window.

“What was that for? I’m hungry,” Dean whined.

“Evil pagans, Dean,” you reminded him. “I don’t want you to get magical food poisoning.” You kissed his cheek and sat back in your chair.

He considered for a moment but finally seemed to admit defeat when he hung his head, a small smile and a blush rising to his cheeks.

***

That night, you and the Winchesters headed back to the Carrigan’s home. “ ‘O Come All Ye Faithful” played from somewhere down the street, and the soft glow of Christmas lights on strings shining through the dark night almost made you feel like a child again; falling asleep in the back of your family’s station wagon while your mother hummed along to the Christmas tunes on the radio.

An evergreen stake was hidden in your jacket’s inside pocket; Bobby was becoming your favorite person with his seemingly endless amounts of contacts and information. Sam had informed you and his brother that the last place the Carrigans had lived, three people disappeared, too.

You followed Dean into the living room of the dark home after he picked the lock. He turned around and whispered, “See? Plastic.” He gestured to the couch and other furniture still covered in sheets of it.

You headed down the hallway where ornaments and snow globes rested on shelves on the wall. You made your way into the kitchen where Sam and Dean were looking at a lock on the basement door. Dean picked it, and you followed him down the stairs. You did your best to avoid making the stairs creak as you did so.

You shined your flashlight around and realized the basement was less of a storage room and more of Hannibal Lector’s playroom; a bowl of blood and bone sat at the end of a bloodstained wooden table just big enough to fit a human on that had shackles outfitted to each of its corners. You backed up along the wall, only to bump into something that moved. You yelped in surprise and wheeled around to see a leather bag wriggling around, as if a person was inside it.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on the back of your shirt, lifting you up, and you screamed.

“(Y/N)!” Dean yelled.

You wriggled and kicked with all your might, but Mr. Carrigan was too strong. He turned you around and held you to the wall by your throat, and you clawed at his hand to get away from him. However, slowly losing air, you were unsure whether the best strategy was to fight or to conserve your oxygen.

“Gosh, I wish you kids hadn’t come down here,” Madge smiled sweetly.

***

Slowly, your mind began to awaken. Your limbs and head felt heavy, and the light seeping in through your closed eyes felt painful. You blinked a few times, soon able to fully open your eyes and look around.

You jerked a little in your seat but soon realized your hands were bound to the chair. You turned your head to the left to see Dean tied up shoulders slumped, and on the right, Sam. You supposed the two boys were tied back to back and your chair was tied sort of in between the two. However, you couldn’t see anything going on behind you.

“Dean? You okay?” you asked frantically when you heard him groan.

“Yeah, I think so,” he grumbled.

“How ‘bout you, Sam?”

Sam just hummed in response. “So, I guess we’re dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God. Nice to know.”

“Yeah,” Dean murmured, breathing deeply.

You heard approaching footsteps coming from behind you.

“Ooh, and here we thought you two lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff,” you heard Madge giggle.

“Miss all this? Nah, we’re partiers,” Dean snarked.

You heard Mr. Carrigan take a puff from his pipe. “Isn’t he a kick in the pants, honey? You’re hunters, is what you are.”

“And you’re pagan gods. So, why don't we just call it even, and go our separate ways?” the older brother suggested.

“What, so you can bring more hunters and kill us?” Madge laughed, voice still sugary sweet. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you went snacking on humans, now, huh?” Sam shot back.

“Oh now, don’t get all wet,” Mr. Carrigan scolded gently.

“Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year and that’s a fact.” You turned to the left to see Madge put a napkin on Dean’s lap. “Now what do we take?” She did the same to you. “What, two? Three?” And then did the same to Sam.

“Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew here make six.” Mr. Carrigan took another drag from his pipe. Funnily enough, you hadn’t seen him light the thing once yet.

“Now, that’s not so bad, is it?” Madge crooned.

“Well, you say it like that,” Dean sassed, “I guess you guys are the Cunninghams.”

“You, mister, better show us a little respect,” Madge instructed, and you could see her leaning down to try and intimidate Dean.

“Or what?” you remarked, trying to crane your neck around to look at the Carrigans. “You gonna eat us?”

“Not so fast,” Mr. Carrigan responded. “There’s rituals to be followed first.”

You turned to Madge, who looked excited. “Oh, we’re just sticklers for ritual.”

“And you know what kicks off the whole shebang?” Mr. Carrigan taunted, walking around in front of you.

“Let me guess.” The glare you delivered was challenging. “Meadowsweet.”

Mr. Carrigan nodded.

“Oh shucks,” you mockingly pouted, “you’re all out of wreaths. I guess we’ll just have to cancel the sacrifice, huh?”

“Oh, don’t be such a gloomy Gus.” You could hear Madge rustling around as she spoke. Suddenly, a wreath was put around your neck. You attempted to bite Mrs. Carrigan’s fingers to no avail, and she just tapped your nose in response. “There. Oh, don’t they just look darling?

Mr. Carrigan smacked his lips. “Good enough to eat. Alrighty-roo. Step number two.” You heard the sound of a knife being released from its sheath.

Sam started mumbling, “No, no—” to which you and Dean cried his name.

“D-Don’t!” Sam wailed.

“Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!” Dean shouted.

You struggled even harder against your binds.

“Hear how they talk to us?” Mr. Carrigan tsked. “To gods? Listen, pal, back in the day, we were worshiped by millions.”

Mr. Carrigan walked around to you holding the bowl, and you started to panic just a little.

“Times have changed!” Dean growled.

“Tell me about it. All of a sudden, this Jesus character is the hot new thing in town. All of a sudden, our– our altars are being burned down, and we’re being hunted down like common monsters.” Mr. Carrigan walked back behind what you assumed was the kitchen counter.

“But did we say a peep? Oh ho ho, no, no, no, we did not. Two millennia,” Madge continued for her husband. “We kept a low profile; we got jobs, a mortgage. Wh- What was that word, dear?”

“We assimilated.”

“Yeah, we assimilated. Why, we play bridge on Tuesday and Fridays.” The woman walked over to you holding the bowl with Sam’s blood in it. “We’re just like everybody else.”

“You’re not blending in as smooth as you think, lady,” Dean snarked. Madge ignored your partner’s comment. “This might pinch a bit, dear.” With that, she sliced into your arm deeply.

“F-Fuck!” you screamed.

“(Y/N)!” Dean yelled. “Get your hands off her!”

“Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar. Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing?” Madge waved the knife around in your face as you panted in pain. “ ‘Fudge’.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” you sassed.

“Oh, god, you son of a bitch!” Dean howled, and you assumed Madge had cut him up, too.

“Get away from him!” you yelled, creating brush burns on your arms from how hard you were pulling on your binds.

“You kids have no idea how lucky you are,” Mr. Carrigan said. “There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are.” He came to a stop in front of you holding a pair of pliers.

“What do you think you’re doing with those?” you asked, chest heaving in panic.

All he did was smile in response.

“You fudging touch her again, and I’ll fudging kill you!” Dean growled.

“Very good!” Madge praised just before you heard your love groan in pain again.

You had no time to focus on Dean because Mr. Carrigan grabbed your hand.

“No, no, don’t!” Sam begged from beside you.

“Get off me!” you cried, and your cry soon turned into a scream as the god painfully pulled your index fingernail off.

“Oh, we got a winner!” Mr. Carrigan exclaimed happily. He disappeared from your line of sight again, and you dropped your head back on your chair. Your finger and arm were throbbing, and you couldn’t help but cry.

“I swear to god, (Y/N), I’ll fucking kill them,” you heard Dean mutter through the white hot pain roaring in your ears.

“What else, dear?” Madge cooed.

“Well, let’s see. Uh, fingernails, blood. Oh! Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick,” the man laughed. “I forgot the tooth.”

“Oh, dear!”

“Merry Christmas, guys,” Dean said, out of breath.

You turned your head to see Madge and Mr. Carrigan advancing on Dean. The man held the pliers up and grabbed Dean’s chin harshly. “Open wide… and say, ‘Aah’.”

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

“Somebody gonna get that?” Dean asked around the tool in his mouth. “You should get that.”

“Come on,” Mr. Carrigan finally said.

You knew you had to act fast, and you started working the knife out of your sleeve as soon as the doors shut behind the Carrigans. Silently, all three of you got out of your binds. You hid with Dean behind one of the kitchen doors.

“Now, where were we?” you heard Madge say.

You pulled a drawer out to hold the door closed and trapped the Carrigans in the kitchen. Almost immediately, the couple was attempting to open them.

You made your way over to Sam at the other end of the kitchen and leaned on the door beside him.

“What do we do now? The evergreen stakes are in the basement!” Dean whispered.

“Well, we need more evergreen, Dean!” Sam replied.

You looked over at the tree in the corner of the living room. “Guys. Bingo.”

Dean smirked excitedly. “Sam, help me get this.” He had his brother assist him in moving the large cabinet next to the door in front of it.

While the boys worked, you pushed the Christmas tree over and broke three large branches off it. You tossed one to both boys who caught them with ease.

Gripping your stake tightly, you waited with bated breath as the house went silent. Suddenly, Mr. Carrigan tackled Dean to the ground. Madge grabbed your shoulder before you could help Dean and wheeled you around. “You little thing,” she chastised. “I loved that tree.”

You raised your stake, but she hit you hard and threw you back onto the plastic-covered couch. The woman stalked toward you, and you whacked her to the ground with the branches of your stake. You scrambled to your feet before she could recover and stabbed her through the chest with your stake.

“Madge!” Mr. Carrigan screamed just before Sam stabbed him with his own makeshift stake.

You moved to stand beside the two boys, chest heaving from the effort. “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals,” you breathed out at the dead bodies at your feet. The two boys huffed out labored laughs before Dean slung his arm around your shoulder and began leading you out of the house.

***

“How’d you keep Dean from finding this stuff?” Sam asked.

You pulled a few plastic bags out from under the bed you shared with the older Winchester. “He doesn’t look under here unless it’s for his shoes. I’ve been making sure they’re next to mine by the door every night,” you explained with a smile. You handed one of the bags to Sam. “It’s not much, but I found a crappy dollar store down the road. I was hoping you’d change your mind.”

Sam looked down sheepishly. “You do get why I was… hesitant, though, right?”

You stood up and nodded. “Absolutely, I do.”

He gave you a lopsided smile.

“C’mon,” you said. “Oh! I almost forgot!”

“What?”

You stooped to pull out the little plastic Christmas tree from under Sam’s bed and held it up with a wide grin.

***

Dean returned almost an hour later holding a six pack. “What’s all this?” he asked, almost in a sort of daze as he looked around the decorated room.

You continued to busy yourself with making eggnog while the brothers talked.

“What do you think it is? It’s– it’s Christmas,” Sam replied.

You walked over to Sam with a cup of your concoction.

“What made you change your mind?” Dean asked him.

“Oh, thanks,” Sam told you without answering his brother.

“Lemme know if it needs more of a kick,” you said.

Sam took a swig and coughed. “Nope, all good.”

“Yeah?” you grinned.

Sam nodded and smiled.

Dean came up behind you and slipped an arm around your waist, his hand landing just above your ass. He smirked down at you and took the other cup of eggnog from your left hand. He gulped almost half of it down, unfazed by the strong whiskey taste.

“Well, uh, have a seat. Let’s do… Christmas stuff, or whatever,” Sam awkwardly said.

You sat beside Dean on the couch next to the small Christmas tree decorated with car air fresheners. Sam pulled up a chair across from you.

“All right, first things first,” Dean nodded, and you handed him the two packages he’d wrapped shoddily in brown paper bags. “Merry Christmas, Sam.” Dean handed him one of the two bags.

Sam smiled widely. “Where’d you get these?”

“Someplace special,” Dean smirked. At Sam’s deadpan expression, Dean continued, “The gas mart down the street. Open them up.”

“Well, great minds think alike, Dean.” Sam brought out two packages wrapped in newspaper. He gave the first to Dean.

“Really?” Dean asked, eyes shining with surprise.

You left Dean’s arms momentarily to reach under the couch and brought out two packages daintily wrapped in brown paper. You handed one to each of the boys, and they handed their gifts to you. “You didn’t have to get me anything, guys,” you said.

“Yeah, we did. Shuddup,” Dean remarked, smirking.

You relaxed back against him while Sam opened his gift from Dean. “Skin mags!” he laughed. “And shaving cream.”

“You like?” Dean questioned.

Sam smiled and nodded. He then opened the gift from you. “Oh, no way!” He held up the Staind cassette tapes you’d gotten for him to add to Dean’s collection for long drives; especially for when Dean was gone.

You grinned widely as he admired the tapes. “Okay, Dee, your turn,” you told him.

He chuckled and unwrapped Sam’s gift to him. “Look at this! Fuel for me and fuel for my baby.” He held up a candy bar and a bottle of oil, and you laughed. “These are awesome,” the older brother said. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Okay, now mine,” you beamed.

“Oh, holy shit,” Dean breathed out while he opened the Bowie knife you’d gotten engraved for him. On the hilt of the blade were his initials, and the handle was engraved to look just like the side of his prized Taurus pistol. “Jesus, (Y/N), this is—” he couldn’t seem to find the words, instead opting to place a long kiss on the side of your forehead.

At last, you opened yours. Sam gave you the second book in a series you’d been reading on Greek myths, for which you were eternally grateful, but Dean’s gift truly floored you.

“Where’d you get this?” you asked, fingering the small beaded bracelet Dean had given you.

“Off some kid in the lobby,” he smirked.

Tears filled your eyes at how close of attention he paid to you and your stories.

“There’s something else in there, too.”

You looked up to Dean with complete admiration before rummaging around in the bag once more. You pulled out a ripped piece of paper from the notepad at a motel you’d recently stayed at with the words, “Redeem on Dean’s expiration date.” You looked up to him in confusion.

“It’s, uh, for this,” Dean revealed, thumbing the amulet around his neck. “I want you to have it.”

You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He returned your fierce embrace, pulling you impossibly closer across his lap.

“Merry Christmas, Deano,” you whispered into his shoulder.

Dean pulled away from you and kissed your forehead. He then held his eggnog up to cheers you and Sam. “Merry Christmas, guys.”

The three of you sat in silence sipping your drinks before Sam broke the quiet.

He looked quite sad as he began, “Hey, Dean, y—” but Sam cut himself off, sighing and shaking his head. “Do you feel like watching the game?” he finally asked.

Dean grinned in relief. “Absolutely.”

You clicked on the television before settling into Dean’s side. He lazily thumbed your hip and sighed in content. Sam turned his chair to face the television.

***

Later that night, long after Dean and Sam had gone to bed, you were still wide awake. Snow had begun softly falling outside the motel room window, and the moonlight reflected off the white blanket over the Impala beautifully. Wrapped in a blanket, you made your way over to your duffel bag. You hadn’t taken the bracelet that Dean gave you off, and you were still holding the piece of paper to “redeem” when Dean was gone.

You took your wallet out and slipped the piece of paper into the see-through pocket where your ID sat, and there it would stay until this was all over.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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