#( CA WINTER BALL. )

[oatmealwrites]

NSFW Holiday Hoes: [Frat JJK AU] Gojo Satoru x F! Reader

Is it casual now?

Oncology student! Frat President! Fwb Satoru x Reader

holiday hoes masterlist here

regular masterlist here

Synopsis: Holiday season is always referred to as 'cuffing season' though he never really saw the point. Why want a real relationship when your casual affair offers everything he wants... or so he thought. Matching sweaters, gift wrapping, and sipping hot cocoa definitely isn't casual.. but it's all he wants for Christmas this year.

Tags: fwb, friends to lovers, Jealous! gojo, car sex, oral (m and f receiving), semi-public sex, helpless pinning on both sides, domestic fluff, shoko & utahime your roommates, wingman suguru, mentions of alcohol, some angst, satoru is bad communicator, making out, hickies, grinding, erection, face riding, missionary, p in v, creampie, aftercare, established relationship, fluff ending, 18+, MDNI

Word count: 11.5k (im cooking again)

a/n: sorry this took wayy to long, it's been a hectic week and a half as I get back to campus. BUT, my writing schedule should finally be stable! enjoy~

~~~~~~~

The windows of the white Mercedes have been fogged over for the past 10 minutes, and there were occasional shakes of the vehicle when you both shimmied into the backseat. The radio plays a mix of top 40 and residual holiday music while a cold winter wind howls outside. People scurry around the parking lot to enter the large shopping mall while others shuffle into their cars to avoid the harsh weather; everyone oblivious to what was happening in this vehicle. 

“Fuck… just like that princess…”

With your lips around his cock and globs of saliva dripping from your mouth, Satoru sits partially beneath you with his thighs splayed apart. Baggy jeans tugged down to his mid thigh and the fabric of his sweatshirt bunched up in his fist for a better view, the sight beneath him is familiar and heavenly. 

Taking the length you couldn’t fit in your mouth in your hand, your head bobs up and down with your tongue laying flat. Sweet pre-cum coats your tastebuds and you can feel the swollen veins that litter his dick throb with increased blood flow. White strands of pubic hair don’t tickle your face, but surround his base; Satoru always makes sure to trim before the two of you hang out.

Sucking him off in the backseat of his car wasn’t the goal of meeting up with him on this chilly afternoon, though it wasn’t particularly surprising. A mutual agreement formed between the both of you, close friends who just happened to be a bit closer than most. 

“Nnfghh…s-shit…gonna fucking cum soon…”

Satoru winces in pleasure and his hips jerk forward to get just a bit more of his length into your mouth. Jaw beginning to ache from keeping it open and lips swollen from his abuse, your hands move to cup his heavy balls and massage them the way he always likes. A few more whimpers and curses leave his lips and Satoru moves to take another chunk of your hair away from your face and into a messy ponytail. 

“Ca–Can I come inside?”

You consider it for a moment, recognizing you had actually remembered to bring your lip gloss this time, and not minding to reapply after you swallow. There’s no verbal communication needed, you bring your mouth to his flushed tip and lick it a few times in approval. 

That’s all Satoru needs to see, bucking hips forward and guiding your head to jerk off his tip in a faster motion before furrowing his brows in pleasure. Hot ropes of semen pour from his cock and into your mouth; the salty and thick liquid a taste you’ve had several times before. 

Satoru fucks himself through his orgasm by gently guiding your head, before slipping out from your lips with a pathetic wince. Despite panting heavily with a mind half-drunk in pleasure, a warm hand cups your cheek while his thumb wipes away any cum that had missed your mouth.

You stay hovering over his softening erection and thickly swallow the semen on your tongue before sitting upright and bringing a hand through your unruly hair. Following the routine, Satoru slips himself back into his boxers and jeans before leaning up to the front console and passing you your water bottle.

The cool liquid washes any taste down your throat, and you swish the water in your mouth a few times before swallowing with a sigh. Silently, Satoru fishes his fallen sunglasses from the car floor and opens his cell phone camera to place them over his eyes and fix his own hair.  

“What time is it?” you ask, while wiping your lips with the back of your hand and pulling out your lipgloss from your jeans pocket. 

“Mmmm, almost 3:15.” Satoru slides his phone into his back pocket and confirms the keys and wallet are still in his sweatshirt pouch. “We should head inside.”

You run one more hand through your hair before slipping on your winter coat and opening the backseat car door. Wind pushes it open harder than you anticipate, and you dive out to catch it before it bangs into the very expensive car parked way too close to yours.

“Geez, tryna scratch my car?”

Satoru laughs while waiting for you to shut the door so he can lock it and walk alongside you to the mall entrance. Pulling your arms into yourself, the cool temperature makes your skin raw and pink.

“I was trying to not dent your door, idiot.”

“Hmm?” Satoru zips his parka up to his chin and smiles sheepishly at you. “That’s good. I was worried you thought I wouldn’t reciprocate and decided to take it out on me.”

You roll your eyes and increase your speed; Satoru’s step length is so long it doesn’t bother him to keep up at all. A few families and couples pass as they walk to their cars, huddled close together to stay warm from the winter wind.

Satoru leans in with a wolfish grin now splayed on his lips. “I mean, that’s what friends are for, right?”

You nudge him in the ribs and keep your head down to avoid the blistering gust that pushes your hair back. The man at your side laughs to himself, though you both know he means it. You and Satoru were in an arranged, casual, platonic, friends with benefits agreement; that doesn’t mean he ever leaves you unsatisfied though. Anytime you made him cum, he made sure to repay the favor with his tongue, fingers, or cock within 24 hours. 

“What are you even looking to buy here anyways? I thought you ordered your Secret Santa gift online.”

Satoru steps ahead of you to open the heavy glass entrance doors and pivots to let you enter before matching to walk beside you once more.

“I was going to, but all the delivery options would be too late.”

You hum in thought and head towards the mall directory to survey the stores; the shopping complex isn’t overwhelming as most people had already done their shopping before the holidays. Tracing the floorplan with your finger, you linger on floor 2 marked as the ‘home and appliance’ section.

Satoru sways next to you, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Who do you have anyways?”

“Nanami.”

Tapping on ‘William and Sonoma’, you follow Satoru’s gaze which stares at ‘Best Buy’.

“You have Inumaki, right?”

“Yep.”

You survey the time once more before starting towards the escalator. “Let’s hit your store first since it’s on the way. If we finish early, I wanna do some shopping.”

Satoru steps on the moving stair beneath you, but doesn’t need to look up to meet your gaze. “Aren’t we already shopping?”

“No, like shopping for me.”

He shrugs and the frame of his circular sunglasses slides down his nose slightly before a long index finger pushes them back up. The mall is still decorated for the holidays; seasonal music plays in the background while ornate garland sparkles with LEDs and hangs from every banister. 

“What were you thinking of buying for Inumaki anyways?”

“Well, Yuji always complains about his shitty microphone when they game,” Satoru says while following you off the escalator and into the electronics store entrance. “I figured a new mic would be easy.”

It’s actually a thoughtful gift idea; which comes as a bigger surprise than you expected. Sure, you and Satoru are close friends, but you always chalked him up to being the kind of guy who just hands you a gift card because he couldn’t figure out what you wanted. Though to be fair, you and him never really exchanged physical gifts; the both of you settled into your fwb agreement early on and only traded sexual favors and fantasies. 

“Alright then.” You look up at the signs hanging from the ceiling for a moment. “Audio equipment is aisle 7.”

Walking side by side, the two of you scan the racks of microphones for ones compatible with his PC and settle between two options. Satoru grabs both boxes and tilts his head between the two.

You glance between them. “The one on your left is way over budget. Isn’t the max like, $25?”

“Yea, but-” He holds up the expensive option. “But this one is in the color he likes.”

You raise an eyebrow but don’t argue; knowing him well enough to understand budget restrictions were merely suggestions in his eyes. Satoru turns the box around and smiles when he notices there’s no obvious price tag that would make Inumaki feel bad upon receiving such a nice gift and turns for the checkouts.

“Alright, that’s one down. Where to next?”

Watching Satoru tap the gaudy metallic black credit card on the payment terminal, he shoots a wink to the cashier and smoothly slides to resume his place at your side.

“I’m thinking of checking out William and Sonoma?”

Your friend hums in agreement and follows closely at your side while you peruse the aisles of the baking and cooking equipment. Every price tag you turn over makes you wince, and Satoru isn’t particularly helpful as he skims through every cookbook he passes.

“Think you can make this one? Kikufuku sounds kinda hard–what’s that?”

Satoru cuts himself off and pads over to where you stand hovering over a very nice and very expensive Le Creset.

“It’s a Dutch oven; you can make a lot of things like bread,” you say, voice falling at the number of zeroes on the tag.

What you had figured out from your time with the man is that Nanami was an all around foodie with a particular favoritism for baked goods. Looking back, you definitely should've double checked the prices online before walking in; each one carries a price tag way out of the Secret Santa limit and your personal budget.

“$360? That’s not too bad.” Satoru flicks the price tag out of his fingers and lifts the lid of the turquoise Dutch oven. “I mean, I don’t know what I’d do with it… but Nanami would probably be into it.”

“It’s a gift for him, not you, idiot.” You sigh and run your fingers down the side of the glossy finish.

Satoru doesn’t mind the nickname and tilts his head before looking around the store and noticing an array of red sale signs. Silently he takes your hand and dejectedly you obey and follow him to the far back corner of the building.

“Just buy a broken one and fix it. Good as new.”

You raise an eyebrow before examining the clearance racks ahead of you; Satoru is already reaching on the higher shelf to pull down a pale yellow Dutch oven that was missing a handle. Same brand, though slightly smaller. He pops the lid off to reveal the unattached handle that simply needs some sanding and super glue.

“Woa… you’re a genius.”

“Yea, well, it’s no mystery why I'm at the top of the oncology department.”

“Hm? Suguru told me that you definitely bottom.”

Satoru scoffs and shoves your shoulder, murmuring about how you of all people should know how well he tops you. You pay no mind to his complaints; turning the ceramic instrument over and settling on the reduced price of $35.99 to be justifiable considering the budget.

The two of you head for the checkouts and return to the walkways of the mall, satisfied with your timing so far on the shopping trip. You lean against the glass railing and pull out your phone while Satoru mirrors your position and scrolls through a few messages.

“Can I come to your place after this?”

You hum absentmindedly and respond to the DM Shoko had sent you earlier. “Sure, why though?”

“Suguru is having Choso over for a board game and smoke sesh. Plus I don’t have any wrapping paper.”

You roll your eyes at his lack of preparation, but accept his self-invitation. Pulling up the roommate group chat between you, Shoko, and Utahime, your pulse stops at the most recent messages.

Sho(e)ko: He’s gonna be at the party @ y/n

Utahimeh: huh?? Who?? 

Sho(e)ko: that guy from the law dept. I think his name’s Higuroma?

Utahimeh: Higuruma. And he’s not part of greek life i thought?

Satoru waits for your response to his follow up question and finally looks up from his phone to see you immersed in yours. The lack of attention given makes him nudge your forearm down.

“Huh?”

The white haired man lowers his glasses to raise an eyebrow at you. “I was asking what other store you wanted to see. But–,” he makes a swipe at your phone but narrowly misses.

“–Hey!”

Now any other time Satoru would shrug and continue talking about whatever was on his mind. Any other time. It’s not rare for you to ignore to wave off his loud mouth, but seeing you so absorbed in something without letting him in on it was rare. 

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing.”

You don’t reply, and instead slip your phone into your front pocket to avoid his advances. Satoru raises an eyebrow at you and shrugs in suspicion before turning his attention to the rest of the mall. “Alright… Now let’s finish this up. I hate crowded places.”

Without pressing further, you both make your way to a department store near the main entrance and you waste no time going through the after-holiday sale racks. Satoru lingers at the men’s cologne section before wandering back over to you and leaning against the metal clothing racks in boredom.

“Why are you shopping anyway? I’ve seen your closet…. There’s no room.”

You roll your eyes and keep dragging hangers down. “I have nothing to wear for the party.”

Satoru audibly groans at this and slinks further onto the rack; arching his back like a shrimp. With a couple more slides of the articles of clothing, you pause. Mistakenly placed on the woman’s racks was a clearance turquoise men’s cashmere sweater.

With wide eyes, you slide it off the the rack and hold it up to guess how well the size would fit.

“You’re gonna wear that to the party?”

“No.” You roll your eyes at him and hold the article up. “What do you think about this for Nanami?”

If Satoru was barely paying attention earlier, he sure was locked in right now. 

“Huh? But what about that other thing you bought? The… danish stove?”

“Dutch oven,” you correct before shrugging. “I dunno. I could always keep that and give him this. It’s like his signature color.”

Satoru eyes the sweater and then glances back at you for a moment; peeking out from under your coat was a knit turtleneck collar of nearly the same color. In the moments waiting for his answer, you don’t see the way his brain is working out a million different scenarios; all of which create an uncomfortable feeling in his gut.

“Nah, go with the oven. A sweater is too much.”

“Too much?” You spin it around and eye the price tag of $27, still out of budget, but closer to the goal. 

Satoru shrugs and looks off at the other racks. “Yea like vibe wise. Don’t we need to find something for you to wear before you shop for him?”

Blinking a few times, you slide the sweater back into its new home on the women’s clearance rack and sigh lightly; though not having to buy a new gift does help the stress on your wallet. Satoru watches you now slide through the racks while an indescribable feeling washes over him as you still keep glancing at the men’s sweater in consideration.

You’re still working it out in your brain and Satoru can read it all over your face. Suguru was up late last night listening to music and smoking with Shoko; the lack of sleep and overstimulation from such a busy place is how rationalizes the thoughts going through his head. 

“Let’s get matching ones. For the party.”

The hanger on the rack screeches to a halt as you look up at him with confusion knit in your brows.

“Huh?”

Satoru licks his lips and speaks a bit slower, “Matching sweaters. We should get some for the party, it’ll be hilarious.”

Raising an eyebrow at the man, you drink in the way his glasses have slid down the bridge of his nose slightly and reveal his pale blue eyes. The electricity in them leaves you momentarily speechless as his proposal slowly works its way through your brain.

“Why though?” You look around the clearance racks as if you’re really considering it. “We won’t even find a matching set here.”

Satoru doesn’t answer your first question and instead ducks his head to point out the holly red cardigan you were currently hovering over. “We’ll match colors then. Nice and easy.”

You blink and look down at the sweater you were just considering and chew the inside of your cheek; before you can ask again why he wanted to match, Satoru is already making a beeline for the men’s section. 

Shifting through hangers himself, he wastes no time pulling off a cashmere luxury-labeled sweater in the same bright red color. A light jog to catch up to him, Satoru takes the cardigan from your hands and throws it over his forearm with his own sweater before looking for the checkouts. 

******

The ride back to your apartment was as normal as it could be. The radio played top hits in the background while you and Satoru talked about whatever came to mind; gossip about the newest pledge Yuji and his brother(?) Todo, updates on the amount of subscribers on Inumaki’s twitch, and jokes about how Yuta still couldn’t beat Maki at any drinking game they played.

By the time you turn the key in the lock and are greeted by the sound of music playing on the tv and the chatter of your roommates, you’ve forgotten all about your stupid matching sweaters.

“Hey guys!” Utahime waves from her spot on the floor in front of the wrapping paper. “Back already?”

“Yep! Got our Secret Santa gifts~ so no peeking!”

You smile at her and kick off your winter boots before shimmying out of your coat and placing the brown shopping bags on the small kitchen table. Satoru follows suit and makes himself comfortable opening your pantry in search of something sweet.

“Oh, you’re here?” Shoko wanders out of her bedroom and directs her attention to the only man in the room.

“Ya, Choso is over to smoke with Suguru.”

She shrugs at the reason and joins him in the kitchen to fill a glass of water and eyes the bags on the counter before looking at you.

“What’d you get?”

You unwrap the scarf from around your neck and place it with your coat on the hooks. “Secret Santa gift, and a sweater for me.”

Shoko takes a sip of the water from her glass and peers into the bag; raising an eyebrow, she turns to you again.

This time, Satoru finally pulls out a small canister from the pantry and shoots her a grin. “Oh! We’re gonna be matching– it’ll be hilarious!”

You scoff while Shoko fishes out one of the sweaters from the bag and raises it slightly. “It’s not an ‘ugly sweater’ though… so why’s it funny–”

“Hot chocolate anyone?”

Satoru cuts her off and slams the pantry closed before tapping the lid of the powdered beverage container. Shoko processes slowly, shoots him a knowing glance that you can’t quite read, and releases the fabric into the bag again.

Shoko walks over to grab some wrapping paper from Utahime, Satoru takes out a few mugs from the cabinet, and you stand beside him to grab a big enough pot to begin boiling some milk. The moment is calm and familial as you both work on following the simple printed recipe while your roommates prepare their last few gifts before the party.

“Mmm this calls for 2 tablespoons per person… Satoru you definitely put in too much.”

“It’ll taste better that way.”

You hum and stir the simmering pot regardless while your friends on the floor whisper amongst themselves. Satoru pays no mind to them either, fishing out marshmallows and whipped cream and placing them next to the mugs.

Despite the small shake of her head to stop Shoko, Utahime sighs and watches as the woman leans against the couch and waves her phone.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You murmur a hum and nudge Satoru’s arm to not spill while he ladled the hot beverage into each mug.

“You never answered us earlier! Higuruma was asking about what to bring to the Secret Santa.”

Time stops and you release from Satoru’s arm to spin and face Shoko with eyes wide open.

“No way? He texted?”

Shoko smirks and nods slowly while Utahime is looking between her and the man behind you with a worried expression. Sure, you thought Higuruma was hot, hell who didn’t? But to ask if you wanted anything for him to bring made a giddy feeling wash over you.

The way you seem at a loss for words and begin sheepishly trying to work out the logistics of the Uber ride with a questionable amount of liquor bottles, you miss the way Satoru stops dividing the hot cocoa and stares at you. There’s an unreadable expression on his face as an unfamiliar emotion builds in his guts. 

No. 

It’s not unfamiliar; he’s felt it before a million times over, even earlier at the mall. Satoru swallows thickly and reaches to coat the top of his hot cocoa with a thick layer of whipped cream and chocolate syrup before reaching to pass you a mug.

“I can drive you guys, if you want. It's gonna be at my and Suguru's apartment anyways.”

You immediately pause from your position hunched over your phone to compare rideshare app prices for a larger vehicle and look up at the man; his hand reaches out to pass you a serving of hot cocoa. 

“Huh? It’s fine if we,” Shoko motions between herself, Utahime, and you, “ride together. Aren’t you and Suguru going early to set up decorations and drinks?”

Satoru shrugs and replies as if it were simple. “Nah, that’s new pledges jobs this time. I don’t mind swinging by to pick you up. Besides–” he swings an arm around your shoulder. “-there’s no point in matching if we don’t show up together~.”

“Seriously?” you sigh to him.

“Yep.”

You raise an eyebrow at him and hover your lips above the rim of the mug to blow steam away before taking a sip. Shoko keeps a knowing glance on Satoru, which he returns, before slinking back down to the floor and assisting Utahime with adding the finishing touches to the present in front of them.

You move slightly to confront him once again and ask why he would drive you and your roommate so suddenly, when he slides to grab the paper shopping bags and moves to the apartment floor. Music continues playing in the background as you watch the way your roommates shuffle over to make room for the man as if he deserved a permanent seat.

The wind picks up even more, and you cozy into your sweater a bit more before padding over and taking the seat next to him. Silently, he pulls out the Le Creuset you had purchased while Utahime gets up to pour herself a mug and grab a canister of super glue for you to fix it.

While the group wraps gifts and chatter amongst yourselves, Satoru remains fixed at your side, his thigh resting casually against your own.

~~~~~~~~~

“Has anyone seen my hair straightener?” Utahime calls out from the bathroom while rummaging through the drawers under the sink.

“No, but I call dibs on the bathroom in 5 minutes!” Shoko yells from the window where she finishes her cigarette.

You pause in front of your bed surveying the various outfits that match the red cardigan that sits in the center. Dresses seemed too formal considering it was still a frat function, despite it being more intimate than their usual big blowouts. 

Dragging your index finger over a variety of different length skirts, you settle on a black mini and tight white cropped tee to go on top. Paired with black opaque tights, said holly colored cardigan, and cute black boots, you step out into the living to do a full spin.

“Hey! I said 5 min– woa.” Shoko bangs on the bathroom door holding her makeup bag in one hand and pre-game drink in the other while smirking at you, “Hot.”

“Thank you, thank you~”

You do a small 360 and move to the kitchen table to finish up the last few steps of your own makeup routine, laughing when Shoko wedges the door open to squirm inside. Utahime tries to nudge her back outside, but the two wind up elbow-to-elbow in front of the mirror to finish getting ready.

Satoru had texted an hour ago saying he’d be there by no later than 7 to pick you all up and looking up from your compact as you apply the finish touches to your lip gloss, the microwave clock reads 7:38 pm.

“I need more room! Does the back of my hair look even?” Utahime spins around to show it definitely wasn’t even and Shoko replies with a chuckle.

Before you can butt in to prevent an argument, there’s a set of knocks at the door. Keeping an eye on the two of them, you only glance away to peer in the peephole and unlock the door. Satoru shuffles inside, twirling his car keys on his fingers and kicking off his shoes.

“Oh, a new record. Only 40 minutes late this time.” You cross your arms. “And what’s with the sunglasses? It’s dark outside.”

Satoru wiggles off his coat and pushes his frames back up the bridge of his nose. “Did you miss me that much?”

You roll your eyes and walk back to the kitchen table to retrieve your compact while the man giggles a bit before finally drinking in the scene in front of him. He stands motionless at the front entrance still, watching the way you slide your compact into a small purse and stand to whisk together another pre-game drink.

Every curve accentuated with your outfit, your hair looks glossy in the warm light of the floor lamps, and your makeup is done perfectly to compliment your natural features; Satoru’s seen you dolled up a handful of times before, but this time the matching colors you both adorn make pause.

“Did you want one or not?”

“Huh?”

You look up from the pitcher of an assortment of soft drinks and hard liquor with frustration. “I asked if you wanted one like 4 times now.”

“O-Oh,” he says and shuffles into the kitchen a bit closer. “Sure, but a small one; I’m still driving after all.”

You nod and spin back around to pour half a cup while Satoru slowly walks forward at your side; dressed in the same holly red with a cashmere sweater and straight leg jeans, he can’t help but admire your outfit.

“Listen, Y/N–”

“–Don’t use up all my setting spray Shoko! Or I’ll– oh, you’re here.”

Utahime comes from around the corner and pauses when she notices the designated driver has finally arrived. The white haired man at your side laughs lightly and gives a wave while your roommate flattens out the rest of her outfit and moves to stand at your side to pour herself another glass.

“Are you gonna make it to the party if you keep drinking this much?”

“Yea.” She turns to you and takes the first sip of her third drink. “This is just precautionary in case it’s lame.”

Satoru moves his mouth away, despite being about to take a sip, and rolls his eyes. “It won’t be lame. It’s not the same as the usual open-house function we do, but it’s still a JJK party.”

Utahime seems indifferent at the response and takes another big sip while Shoko emerges into the kitchen as well. “Oh? Looks like our ride, or y/n’s ride, has arrived.”

You roll your eyes and take a few gulps of your beverage while Satoru watches your reaction with a gaze you can’t quite decipher. Utahime shivers at the joke and moves to collect her Secret Santa gift from the living room. “Please, stop putting that image in my head. I don’t want to imagine our roommate and him banging in this apartment.”

With a sigh, you move to grab your own Secret Santa gift and pass Satoru the one he had wrapped and left here. Shoko chuckles a bit and assembles her things while sliding out her phone. “Ah, we really should get going.”

Utahime shoots Satoru a glare and wraps an arm around you while he stares in a slight confusion as the conversation pivoted against him. You had agreed to the fwb after all, so why was he the bad guy in this?

Shuffling on shoes, combining liquor and wine bottles into one cardboard box (which Satoru is forced to carry), and triple checking everyone has their gifts, you all head out of the apartment. Light chatter amongst you and your friends as you walk through the lobby while Satoru fishes out his car keys, holding the box with one hand against his side, a clean white Mercedes sits in the resident spot near the front.

You raise an eyebrow and open the trunk for Satoru to slide in the box. “Why are you parked here? The visitor spots are open, and you don’t have a resident tag.”

“Hm?” He ducks and places his hand on the top of the trunk, ready to shut it. “I always park here?”

If he was telling the truth, you couldn’t hide the surprise. Has he always parked here? Before you can question it, Shoko has leaned up from her spot in the back seat to lean against the car horn and begin yelling through the open crack in the window.

“We’re gonna be later than we already are! Make out when we get there!”

You knock against the window to shut her up while Satoru lets out an honest laugh. “Well, you heard the woman. Wouldn’t want to keep her or you waiting.”

You shove his shoulder lightly and he lets out one more chuckle before walking around to sit in the driver’s seat while you take your place in the passenger seat next to him. By the time the car leaves the parking lot, your roommates are bickering amongst each other about song requests and bets on who the rest of the group had for Secret Santa.

Satoru’s hand rests comfortably on your thigh, drawing an array of shapes with his fingers as he handles the steering wheel with the other hand. The feeling is familiar, though the gentleness of the action is new. He wasn’t exactly discreet when it came to wanting your attention or physical touch, but it usually came before you two got down and dirty.

The lightness of his touch while his eyes remained fixed on the road was so casual it almost wasn’t. When Shoko and Utahime shift to talk about Higuruma once again, you don’t bother to join the conversation, and Satoru’s eyes finally leave the road to glance over at you.

~~~~~~~~

“Oh, only an hour and 15 minutes late this time, Satoru. I’m glad I told you the party started at 7:15 and not 8:30.”

Suguru laughs from the kitchen island of their shared apartment while you all shuffle in through the door and remove your winter outwear. Maki and Nobara sit on the sofa in the living room while Inumaki and Yuta mix a few drinks and Yuji and Megumi organize the group’s gifts on the coffee table. 

You, Shoko, and Utahime branch off to greet Nanami and Higuruma in the kitchen while looking around for the rest of the group.

You dig around in the cardboard box Satoru had carried and take out a bottle of prosecco before passing it to Higuruma to open.

“Where’s everyone else?”

Higuruma places a careful hand on the cork and points it away from you as it pops. “Choso is smoking on the balcony and I think Haibara went with Todo to pick up Mai and the others.”

You hum in acknowledgement and open a few cupboards in search of a flute for the drink whichHiguruma fills up without needing the question as soon as you present it.

Across the room, Suguru and Satoru idly pour themselves a drink while the final preparations are being made.

“Soooo, you talk to her yet?”

Satoru raises an eyebrow and finishes his pour of the sweet concoction of fruit juices and rum before turning to his friend. “Who? And what about?”

Suguru cracks open a beer and shoots his friend a sideways glance with a ‘seriously?’ look on his face.

“Oh come on. If you’re gonna keep y/n at a distance, you can’t be all moody when another guy tries to make a move.”

Satoru scrunches his eyebrows and raises the cup to hip lips. “Huh? No one is making a move… and I’m not moody!”

“Yea you are.”

“No–”

“You’re gonna break the cup in a second if you keep gripping it that tightly.”

Satoru pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath; the plastic cup dents and creaks as his pressure lightens. Laughter rings out in the air as you, Higuruma, Utahime, and Nanami all crowd around the kitchen island giggling about something. The way your eyes shut with a large smile on your lips catches his attention before he notices the way the other men in the circle look as starstruck as he does right now.

It shouldn’t bother him; he doesn’t get to be upset when he was the one that proposed all those late night flings you’ve had were completely casual. When the two of you first hooked up months ago during a party, it was the first thing Satoru muttered once you both came down from your highs. Looking at his own reflection with the beverage in his hand, he can’t even remember why he had said it in the first place.

Sure, it was great to be fwb; he gets to know you in and out of the bedroom without any of the ‘responsibilities’ of being a boyfriend. Though watching you lightly shove the arm of a coyly smirking Higuruma, all the ‘obligations’ of being your boyfriend merge into benefits. He could be over there with an arm around your waist telling every guy in here to fuck off, he could be the one to take you shopping rather than shopping for other men, he could be the one you would wear matching colors with on campus, rather than as a lame party gag.

“You done moping yet?”

Satoru lifts the drink and take a few big sips, his eyes never leaving your figure.

“I fucked up, Suguru.”

“Ha!” The man at his side throws his head back and laughs, “I know. We all know.”

Satoru looks over to the balcony entrance, catching the way Shoko peers back at him with her arms crossed with a knowing glance; she only looks away when Choso taps her for a light.

“Well, what am I supposed to do? I’m the one that made it casual to begin with.”

It’s weird to see him so upset, and Suguru drops his smile at the melancholy feeling emitting from his best friend.

He places a hand on his shoulder. “Tell her how you feel. For real this time.”

“What if…” The plastic cup in Satoru’s hand crinkles again at the pressure and he drops his voice. “What if she doesn’t feel the same?”

A loud sigh can be heard from Suguru’s lips as he shrugs. “Well that’s part of the whole thing; real relationships are scary like that. But–” He looks at the mess of emotions on his friend’s face. “That’s better than whatever you’re feeling right now.”

Satoru swallows thickly and nods slowly in agreement; he had been putting this off for too long now. With a long gulp of his beverage and supportive pat on the back from his best friend, he takes off to the kitchen with his sights set on you.

“No way? You guys went to the holiday market?”

Higuruma nods and motions to Nanami. “Yea, Yuji thought that would be a good place to introduce us.”

Nanami nods and takes a sip of his drink. “It was great; the food stalls were very impressive.”

You look between the two men and almost salivate at the thought of such good food before a heavy arm is thrown over your shoulder. Dragged into the side of Satoru, you look up and shoot him a confused glance.

It isn’t by accident or through a casual greeting for this display of physical touch. While you may see it as Satoru being his usual self, the two other men in the conversation understand the hint. Matching sweaters and his arm around you; Nanami and Higuruma don’t move any closer and pause to change the conversation.

“Hey,” you nudge into his side with a whisper-yell, “what are you doing?”

Satoru looks between the group, which is now immersed in another conversation, before dipping down to your ear. “I needed to talk to you.”

“So?”

“So–” His arm falls down to grab your elbow. “I need to do it in private.”

Raising an eyebrow, you take in the way he leans his head in closer before rolling your eyes and shoving his hand off of you.

“Seriously? Now? You can’t last another day or at least until my conversation is over?”

Satoru purses his lips and watches the way the open group has now isolated you both and turned into a three way conversation between Nanami, Higuruma, and Utahime.

“It’s over. Let’s go.”

You scoff at the brashness but don’t stop him as Satoru pulls you out of the kitchen and into the hallway. 

“Hey where is–”

“Yuji! I need your help with the music; the others will be here soon.”

Suguru pulls Yuji to the side and shoots his best friend one last look before pivoting to push the younger man back into the living room.

By the time the door closes and locks, you cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently at Satoru while he busies himself with awkwardly cleaning up his room. Awards from his research in oncology hang on the wall alongside an array of photographs from high school to present day.

Satoru shuffles to his bed, some dirty laundry sitting at the foot on the floor. A light gray comforter sits messy atop navy blue sheets, and the ikea paper floor lamp creates a familiar warm glow across the room.

“What’s this about Satoru? You couldn’t wait?”

“Yea.. something like that.”

The atmosphere is awkward and different than any other time he’s pulled you aside. Usually, he’d sweet talk you a bit and get a bit touchy before dragging you into somewhere more private and slamming his mouth on yours. The way he uncomfortably sits on his bed and can’t quite make eye contact reminds you of the first time the two of you ever had sex. Before it was casual.

He rubs the back of his head in thought while the tension makes you squirm where you stand. It occurs to you that this feels more like a friend in need of support rather than the physical prowess who you’ve come to associate with meaningless sex.

Your voice softens and you shuffle to sit beside him on the bed. “Hey… are you ok?”

“Yes– no…” he sighs and looks at his feet. “I don’t know…”

Your heart strings tug at the vulnerability in his voice and the sullen clicking of the vintage clock radio on his desk. “Ok… take your time Satoru. I’m not going anywhere…”

A mix between a chuckle and a scoff escapes his lips and the pained look he gives you is pitiful; he looks down for a moment more before slipping off his sunglasses and dropping them onto the bed.

“I want to end this.”

…. Huh?

“...What?”

“I want to end this.” He meets your gaze and motions between the both of you. “Whatever this is, or was, it’s done.”

You pause and blink at the man, worry and sympathy quickly becoming replaced with anger, embarrassment, and frustration. All the months tangled between the sheets and moments of genuine happiness in his company come crashing down.

“What..? Why?”

With eyebrows furrowed, there’s no way to hide the cold tone laced in each word you spit out; Satoru winces and shuts his eyes before taking a deep sigh.

“I just…. We have to, ok?”

“No, not ok.” You stand up from the bed and make some distance, hands curled into fists. “Not until you give me a real reason.”

Satoru looks at you with tired eyes and glances back at the floor. “There isn’t one…”

“So what then? I was just something to fuck until you got bored?”

He shoots his eyes up and frantically shakes his head. “What? No! That’s not it all.”

“Is there somebody else? Just kept me until you could swoop in and get in a real relationship?”

“N-No!” Satoru stands from the bed and raises his voice to match yours, an argument breaking out.

From down the hall, Suguru winces and motions Yuji to increase the volume on the speakers and offers people fresh drinks to stall for a bit longer.

“I know we’re casual, but I thought I at least meant something to you as a friend.”

“You do!”

Your brows twitch in frustration and hot angry tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “Then why are you ending this–”

“Because I’m in love with you!”

…what?

You pause and pant to catch your breath, the silence deafening as Satoru stands pathetically in front of you tugging at his hair in frustration.

“I’m in love with you, ok?” He pushes chunks of it back, only to have it cascade right back down. “That’s why… we can’t do this anymore. It’s not casual.”

You breathe in and out slowly while your pulse shoots through the roof. Standing in the center of his room, the one you’ve been in a million times before, suddenly feels suffocating. When you don’t answer, Satoru peels his eyes off the floor and scans your face with a worried expression.

“Say something… please…”

You swallow and look at him cautiously. “Why… why didn’t you say anything that night?”

Satoru winces and looks back down again before rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands with enough force he’s seeing stars. That night. Why couldn’t he just man up enough that one night all those months ago?

It was the night he had finally mustered up the courage to ask you to a party as his date after months of pathetically trying to find a way to ask you out. Music blaring and alcohol flowing, the sight of you wrapped around his arms dancing was heavenly; the sight of nearly every other guy ogling you was hell. 

Liquid courage flowing through you, you had pushed him back to his bedroom and connected your lips to his. Matching the intensity, he had wasted no time in kissing you back; before anyone could wonder where the two of you had gone, you were making love in between his same navy blue sheets.

When the both of you came down from the high, it was the first thing out of Satoru’s mouth.

Let’s keep this casual, ok?

It hurt so bad to hear, and it hurt him even worse to watch the way your face fell in a dejected response. 

“That night…?”

You grab at the fabric of your skirt in an awkward and anxious energy. “Yea.”

“Because–” Satoru finally looks back at you and sighs, “I don’t think I can make you happy in any way that isn’t physical. I don’t bake bread with ceramic ovens, I don’t practice law and know how to get stupid corks out of wine bottles… I don’t think you would be emotionally happy with me.”

There’s another long pause as the anger fully slips out of you; your hands fall flat at your sides and Satoru finds solace staring at the white shaggy rug that lays beneath his bed to the middle of his room. 

“And you decided that without ever asking me?”

The sound of your voice makes him look up, and he winces, fully expecting you to reject him and tell him to fuck off forever. You take a few cautious steps forward and sigh lightly; taking his hand in your own, you tug at him to meet your gaze.

“Satoru, why do you think I said yes to being your date at that party?” A dry laugh escapes your lips and you watch the way your fingers intertwine with his. “I had been waiting months for you to ask me out… Shoko and Utahime laughed at me so much when I came home and told them you finally did.”

Satoru stays silent for a moment and creates a crease in his forehead from the way his eyes portray nothing but regret and sadness. “And I ruined everything, didn’t I? Pushed you away, and now there’s two great guys out there that would never make the same mistake I did.”

You look up at him and glance between his eyes before smiling gently. “I mean… probably.”

Satoru nearly releases the grip on your hand, but you keep your fingers firm. “But… the guy I like is in here.”

“In here?”

“Mmhmm.”

Satoru’s eyes widen and he searches your face for any sign you’re about to say it’s some sick joke before you lean up to capture his lips with your own. Your lipgloss smearing slightly against his mouth, Satoru’s lips chase after yours when you take a slight pause to breathe.

Hmpfh– 

The force of him stepping forward to continue the kiss has you walking backwards until your legs are plush against his desk. He leans in with more force and cups your cheeks to keep your mouth perfectly aligned with his; strands of white hair fall down at the angle and tickle your face.

The kiss is similar to the ones you’ve shared before, and it makes you wonder if every time you and Satoru had sex, he was hoping it was something more meaningful than a fwb. Lips against your own, his hands fall to grip your waist and keep you still against him; an erection hardening in his jeans against you. 

“F-fuck… Satoru..”

In the brief moment you escape his lip to whimper out, he meets his mouth against yours again and swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. Parting for access, the hot muscle eagerly explores your mouth and leaves the fruity taste of pineapple juice on your tongue.

The sensation sets your skin on fire and causes arousal to pool in your panties while his hips rut pathetically against yours. His tongue rubs against your own and the messiness of the kiss leaves saliva dripping from both of your mouths; unable to move from being squished between Satoru and the desk, the pressure of the moment leaves your mind dizzy.

With one last exploration of your molars, Satoru disconnects his lips from yours and immediately moves down to the sensitive skin on your throat. Open mouth kisses litter the flesh under your jaw to the base of your collarbone before the man in front of you pauses and leans back slightly. 

“Is it… is it ok?”

Neither one of you had either left a hickey on the other person, having deemed it too intimate to leave claiming marks when neither of you were entitled to exclusivity. The question he poses has more weight than if he can leave a few bruises; he’s asking if you can be his.

Hot breaths leave his panting lips and you shiver from the sensation; looking up at the man, you take in the pink on his cheeks and the dilation of his pupils.

“Y-Yea.”

Knees nearly buckling forward, Satoru nods once and stumbles forward to latch his lips and teeth onto the delicate flesh of your throat. A surprised groan escapes you, and he sighs before sinking his canines into your skin and sucking the tender spot into his mouth. It’s a mix of pleasure and pain that courses through you at the sensation, one Satoru mirrors as his aching erection painfully pushes at the fly of his jeans.

He’s never been so hard in his life. Sure, he always remembered to thank his lucky stars every time you and him were intimate, but the idea of doing this as a committed pair makes his hips jerk forward in desperation. 

Lips releasing the flesh with a ‘pop’, his mouth moves to suck the pulse point under your jaw while his hands move from holding your hips to hovering just below your tits. Satoru’s mind goes fuzzy when he can feel your pulse on his lips and when your hands rest on his to push his palms to your breast.

The feeling of his mouth sucking dark bruises on your neck and the way his thumbs already know where to push down to grind your nipples through your bra leave you feeling drunk. When his erection grinds against your pelvis again, you lean your head further to the side and groan.

“S-Satoru..”

His lips ‘pop’ off your pulse and trail to find the next spot just under your ear. “Ye-Yea, princess?”

You shudder at the pet name and clench pathetically around nothing while his hands continue kneading your tits.

“Use your words”

Any other time the command might’ve made you a bit embarrassed, but leaning against the desk at his mercy while raging with desire, you don’t really care.

“I want you.”

Despite saying the words before a handful of times when the moment was intense, Satoru doesn’t miss the new implication and weight of them. He leans down to connect your lips again, whimpering when you tug at his hair impatiently.

“God, I could kiss you forever.”

“Ok, then do it.”

He smiles and leans down once to peck your lips again, before backing up and making room for the both of you to walk over to the bed. You're barely on the mattress when he pushes you flush against his pillows and splays your thighs apart to make room for himself. 

Sitting on your elbows, you drink in the sight of Satoru lifting his arms above his head to pull off the sweater and reveal a torso sculpted from marble. An array of scars litter the skin, some from stories you’ve heard and others from ones you’re sure to hear one day; a particular faded scar by his navel remains unknown.

“Sukuna fucking hit me on his stupid bike.”

He notices the way your eyes linger on his torso and pays no mind while his fingertips pinch the hem of your shirt to tug the cardigan and fabric off.

“Really? How?”

“Said he was gonna teach Megumi how to ride.” He drops your red cardigan on the floor to match his sweater and throws your t-shirt haphazardly behind him. “Fucking idiot clipped me and sent me flying to the pavement.”

Your fingers graze the scar once before dropping to outline the hem of his jeans and tracing the outline of his erection. Satoru sucks in a shallow breath and moves to release the button and zipper.

“Did it hurt?”

“Yea– felt like I got split in half. But..” He shimmies the fabric down and kicks it to join the other clothes before reaching behind you to release the metal clasp of your bra. “I’m feeling really good right now.”

You laugh slightly and pull him to another kiss, which he happily leans in for, before you part to wiggle your skirt and tights down. Both of you left in your underwear, the tightness of his Calvin Klein briefs leave little to the imagination.

Pre-cum staining the gray material darker, the tip of his cock is nearly pushing through the fly of the fabric from the intensity. Satoru isn’t sure if he feels light headed from the lack of blood flow to his brain or from the fact that your red panties are stained with arousal.

He pauses and sits back for a moment to peer over the bed and finally notice the way your bra had been the same shade. Gun to his head, if anyone had asked him the color of the fabric earlier, he would’ve been dead.

“F-fuck… did you match this, f’me?”

You wet your lips and nod once while Satoru feels as if he could die happily. The girl of his dream, matched her bra and panties to his outfit? In a silent vow to never fumble the bag ever again, he leans back down to capture your lips.

Leaning against his soft pillows and wrapping your arms around his neck, a squeak escapes you when he tugs to flip the positions over. Hovering over him now, his hands dig into the plush of your thighs and gently push you forward.

“W-what?”

“Get up here and sit.”

You pause and look down at Satoru who tugs at your thighs with a face drunk in desire; his biceps scoot you up higher until you’re hovering his face. Fingers wrapped around the base of your panties, you lean forward to grab his headboard while he slides them down your legs and off each ankle. 

He bundles the wet fabric into a little ball and reaches up to tuck it underneath one of his pillows.

“H-hey! Give it back, perv.”

“I will.. After you sit.”

His hands reach up to your hips and push you down onto his nose and mouth; the sensation immediately makes you gush in arousal. Satoru’s pointed nose nudges your puffy clit while his lips suck at your entrance before his tongue slithers in. You groan and curl your toes for a moment before trying to tense your thighs and stand; his hands immediately hold you still.

Leaning back for a moment, the scene beneath you is filthy. Satoru’s lips are swollen from the suction and your slick coats his mouth and chin; he looks up at you as if you had taken away something so very dear to him.

“Hey, get back down here.” He whines up at you, his eyes nearly black from the size of his pupils.

“B-but… i might crush–”

He pulls your thighs down lower and breathes hot against your pussy, licking a long stripe and peering up once more. “Then go ahead and crush me. As if I’d want to die anywhere else than under your fucking cunt.”

With one last tug, he pulls you down onto his face once again and continues his ministrations; the sensation sends a shiver down your spine. Tongue pushing into your sopping cunt with a disgusting french kiss while his nose lifts to grind against your clit once more. 

It takes one more tug of your hips before you take a deep breath and grab the headboard firmly, ready to finally grind. One sway of your hips instantly amplifies the pleasure; his nose rutting with perfect pressure before your effectively fucking his face.

Whimpers escape your and Satoru’s lips, the vibration further making your mind fuzzy. His tongue presses against the fleshly walls of your cunt in desperation to drink in every drop of your arousal while his hands freely knead the flesh of your ass as you grind. Hunching forward, you can vaguely makeout the scene beneath you; Satoru’s hair plastered his forehead with sweat while his eyes are screwed shut in concentration. The redness of his face makes you wonder if he can even breathe properly. 

“Ahhh… S-Satoru… gonna..”

He gently pushes up on your thighs and takes several deep breaths while trying to form a sentence.

“On my…cock… gotta cum on my cock… please princess..”

You whimper at the lack of stimulation after getting so close to the edge and peer back to notice the angry way his cock throbs against the fabric. The pre-cum patch even larger than before, you turn back around and nod once before swinging your thighs over his head to sit on his comforter.

Your arousal still coating the entire lower half of his face, Satoru runs his tongue over his lips to savor the taste before capturing you with a kiss once more. His tongue feeds you your own slick and, with a fuzzy mind, you barely process when his mouth leaves yours.

You watch the man slide off the bed and open his night stand drawer for the familiar box of condoms before dropping it.

“Shit. There’s no way…”

He leans in to reach around again before pulling back empty handed and dropping to his knees to feel around his jeans for his wallet. Unfolding it open, he sighs when there’s no foil in sight and runs a hand through his hair in desperation. 

“Guess my luck had to run out eventually.”

You sit on the bed and watch the scene unfold before raising an eyebrow. “Well… can’t we just get the morning after pill?”

“Huh?” He looks up and approaches the bed. “You’re ok with that?”

You’re so horny you’d be ok with anything right now; and the thought of missing out on orgasming again has you going feral. Satoru thanks his lucky stars when you nod in approval, and climbs back onto the mattress to place a chaste kiss to your lips.

He guides you to shimmy down and lay on your back while he reaches into the drawer to pull out a small container of lube; Satoru finally shimmies out of his briefs and kicks them to the floor to let his erection stand freely. It’s a sight you’ve always loved, a tidy bush trimmed at his base while a cock longer and thicker than any guy you’ve been with twitches with anticipation.

Pouring a generous amount of lube into his hand, Satoru gives himself a few generous strokes and massages the flushed tip of his cock before tapping it against your clit for good measure. Splaying your thighs apart with his knees, your legs lift to wrap around him while he crawls forward and slowly slides in.

“Nnnghh..fuck–”

 The burning stretch is one your pussy can never get used to, and your hands on his shoulder blade leave your nails digging into the flesh. Satoru slowly continues pushing in until his pubes are tickling your skin and he’s completely bottomed out inside you.

“Oh my go— fuck princess…. Ha… might cum just from feeling you…”

He sucks a new bruise into the side of your neck, giving you time to adjust while your cunt flutters around him pathetically in an attempt to accommodate his size. Waiting a moment, he finally slides out before pushing back in, with a light ‘tap’ from the headboard into the wall. 

The feeling is insurmountable, and any resolve Satoru had to take things slower seeps out of him as he thrusts in and out of your cunt with a bruising tempo; his tip slamming into your cervix. Legs still hoisted around his waist, the pubic hair on his pelvis grinds forward into your clit with each stroke.

“Aahhh Sator– mpfh”

His hand moves to cover your mouth while he continues bullying his cock into your snug cunt.

“Shh princess… can’t– haaa… can’t have them hearing you..”

Despite his attempt to cover your moans, there’s an audible ‘plap!’ plap!’ plap!’ from the sound of his heavy balls smacking your ass and the banging of the headboard into the wall. The wooden frame creaks uncomfortably, and Satoru bites back down onto your neck to avoid groaning.

Shit. Considering it feels this good without a condom, he would get a vasectomy if he meant he could always hit it raw.

“H-huh?”

Oops. Did he say that part out loud?

His hips snap into yours and long scratches make their way down his back, the pain only heightening the pleasure while his cock drills into you. Noticing the way your hips arch upward in search of more friction, Satoru reaches to grab a pillow and pull it under your waist.

The angle tilts your waist so perfectly, each snap of his hips grinds further onto your puffy clit while his tip bruises your g-spot. Your cunt gushes at the sensation and Satoru is left thinking a million different images to avoid cumming. Boring oncology classes, midday traffic, Yaga teaching said boring classes; his hips twitch pathetically at his impending orgasm.

“Y-you’re trying to milk me dry? Ha~.. gotta make sure you cum soon ngh too..”

He snakes a hand forward to rub mean circles on your clit and the feeling makes you throw your head back and groan exceptionally loud. The coil in your abdomen grows tighter, and you lift your hips to meet his thrusts in an attempt to reach your high.

“ahhh … S-Satoru, I’m gonna… c-cum..”

Satoru falls forward and continues hammering into your abused cunt while you scrunch your eyebrows and moan as your orgasm washes over you. His hips keep pumping his cock into you as your body twitches to ride out the high and tears prick at your eyes from the intensity. 

Your legs feel like jelly and, before they can drop, Satoru holds onto the plush underside to keep them up and grinds his pelvis up against yours a few more times. Before overstimulating can make you squirm, his pace gets erratic and he shudders desperately as hot ropes of cum pour into you.

Fucking himself through his orgasm, he snaps forward a few more times to ensure every last drop is out, and the sensation makes you feel borderline bloated. His erection softening, Satoru slips out with a wince and watches in a daze as his cum slowly drips out of you; without thinking, he dips an index forward to catch it and push it back in.

“Satoruu,” you whine from your fucked out position on his bed.

The man snaps out of his trance and reaches forward to grab a handful of tissues to wipe you both down. Semen leaks out of your cunt and onto the tissue while another piece absorbs the cream ring that was on the base of his cock. In silence, you both catch your breath and take in the moment.

Aside from condoms, it’s the first time Satoru’s ever been inside you without a barrier, and also the first time he’s fully cum in you without protection. Panting slightly, he lays against the bed and pulls you from your seated position and into his arms.

You trace invisible shapes on his pecs before looking up and realizing he was already staring at you.

With a light scoff you flick his forehead, “You’re staring, weirdo.”

“Hmm? Can’t stare at my girlfriend?”

The word makes you pause, the way it slips off his tongue so naturally makes you feel as if the title had been reserved for the whole time. You pause and take a deep breath.

“About that… I think we should keep this casual, Satoru.”

He sucks in a breath from above you and his eyes widen in shock and hurt; pretending to look off in the distance as if his heart wasn’t breaking, he shrugs in a forced manner.

“Gotcha~”

You sit up to lean over his face and capture his lips in a kiss before running your hands through his hair to push it back. Satoru sits up and shakes his head with a whimpered sigh. “Don’t do that! I already said I was sorry!”

Giggling slightly, you pinch at his arm to release you, but he makes no move to lighten his hold. 

“We have to get dressed and go back–”

“Call me my real title first.”

He nuzzles into your neck and places gentle kisses while his biceps keep you pinned into his chest. With a giggle you sigh and lean against him.

“Ok, can my boyfriend let me go so we can get dressed?”

“Hmmm, he’ll think about it.”

You shake your head and Satoru lifts his own to place a soft kiss against your lips, chasing after them when you part for a quick breath. It’s gentle and slow, one you’ve never shared until right now.

With a defeated sigh, he lets you stand up and dig through the clothes to find your bra and snap the clasp back on. He admires the sight before standing up and grabbing a fresh pair of underwear for himself and you from his drawers.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna give me back my own?”

Satoru raises an eyebrow and bounces on one leg to slide into the pant leg of his jeans. “What? I don’t remember you wearing any earlier…”

Knowing it was a battle you were never going to win anyways, you slide on his spare boxer briefs and throw your t-shirt over your shirt. Satoru reaches for his sweater while you shimmy your tights and skirt back on; he gives a few sprays of the cologne he knows you like and leaves his sunglasses on the bed.

Giving you a moment for one final smooth of your outfit, Satoru opens the door and takes your hand to guide you down the hallway back towards everyone.

“Why can’t we start already? I wanna know who has meee,” Yuji whines from the loveseat.

Suguru stands in the center of the living room trying to calm the crowd only pausing to notice the way his best friend saunters into view with you latched onto his arm.

“Oh, sorry for the hold up.” He slides onto the couch and tugs you into his arms to sit beside him. “My girlfriend and I had to get something sorted.”

He looks around to see the reactions of the crowd and raises an eyebrow when no one moves from excitement. Megumi rolls his eyes beside Yuji while Yuta and Inumaki cough awkwardly. Even Choso sits idly next to Todo as if Satoru were reporting the weather to the group.

“Did you hear? Y/N and I are dating–”

“We know.” Shoko interrupts and pours herself another glass of wine from the kitchen.

Satoru whips around to stare at her while the look Utahime gives you makes you want to instantly disappear; you tug on your boyfriend’s sweater but he takes that to mean you want to hold his hand and intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“No, we’re like… together–together”

“WE KNOW!” the group yells in unison.

You slink into the sofa and wish to disappear while Satoru blinks in confusion and looks among the group. Suguru rolls his eyes and moves to sit beside you on the other side of the couch. “We all heard you in his room.”

If there was ever a time for a bomb to go off, it would be right now. Nobara and Maki snicker to themselves while Higuruma, Haibara, and Nanami stand near the window and shake their heads slightly. 

Suguru leans over to you both and shrugs. “I could only stall for so long; they got suspicious when the headboard was louder than my speakers.”

You squeak and sink into your boyfriend’s arms while he sheepishly scratches at the back of his undercut. “That loud huh?”

“Yep.”

He leans away from his friend and runs a reassuring hand over your shoulder to relax, the mortifying moment leaving you wondering if you could ever show your face on campus again.

“It’s ok, we just gotta be quiet next time–”

“Her neck is also completely purple with hickies,” Suguru interrupts once again before leaning back and taking a long sip of beer in the process. 

With one more curt nod, and cutting his losses, Satoru claps his hands and eyes the mountain of gifts piled on the coffee table.

“Well, now that you all know about my and y/n’s sex life and committed relationship, let’s get this Secret Santa started!”

A mix of groans and ‘ooos’ emit from the group; Utahime stands up to begin the process while Satoru keeps a comfy arm around your waist as you partially lay into his chest.

“I know the holidays have passed, but now that we’re all back on campus from break, I figured it would be best to do the exchange now. Is everyone ready?”

Yuji and Todo pump their fist up in excitement while Mai grimaces at the loud outburst. With the gift exchange beginning, you nestle into your boyfriend’s arms and rest your head on his shoulder.

A chaste kiss is placed on your forehead and Satoru runs his thumb absentmindedly across the skin on your thigh. 

“What color are we doing next?”

“Hm?” you hum, peeling your gaze from the excited look on Inumaki’s face as he revealed a new microphone, and focusing on the man beside you.

“For the first day of class, what color should we match with then?”

A grin breaks across your face and you admire his eyes for a moment. “Maybe sky blue?”

thank you so much for reading this installment of holiday hoes! i had so much fun writing this gojo one hehe

i have suguru -> yuta -> choso next before this mini series ends & i'll be doing chapters for my longer fics (L, Aizawa) in between

likes/comments/reblogs all appreciated

-oatmeal

✌︎('ω')✌︎

[unforced3rr0r]

THE DEAL || CA

———————————————————————

part 1 of ??

summary: Carlos hated having a PR manager especially one who was his age. Convincing her to leave was the best plan he'd ever had, but what happens when he realises he doesn't want her to go when it's too?

pairing: carlos alcaraz x fem!reader

warnings: enemies to lovers, kind of asshole Carlos

a/n: this is going to be a series, I’m excited about it!! Let me know what you guys think and if you want to be on the taglist!

MASTERLIST

Being Carlos Alcaraz's PR manager was not for the weak. The job description seemed like it would be a breeze and when your boss had suggested switching F1 drivers for tennis players you really believed you’d be getting the quieter deal.

You’d occasionally watched tennis and it seemed the biggest issue you’d face was a broken racquet.

Carlos should’ve been even easier, he didn’t have a girlfriend and never seemed to be pictured with any women so the most frustrating part of the job was gone.

But Carlos didn’t want a PR manager. He certainly didn’t want a PR manager that was his age telling him what to do and how to act.

The first time you met you thought you’d caught him on a bad day not recognising the cold brown eyes stare watching you.

You’d prepared for your job, watching interviews and clips of Carlos before you started and the arms crossed man that soon in front of you was not the ball of sunshine from the videos you’d seen.

You had to admit you’d been looking forward to the job at first, a funny, charismatic, attractive tennis player should’ve been fun. You’d seen the way Carlos treated him like family and you were expecting the same attitude.

But quickly things turned. You’d watch training frequently, observing from the sidelines picking up the terms and technical parts of his game for notes and interviews.

Carlos would be laughing with Juan Carlos or his brother or one of the other members of his team when his eyes would meet yours.

In a second his eyes would go from lighting up to narrowing in on you, his laugh disappearing and posture going rigid.

At first, it was manageable, your job could mostly be done from a distance and you could deal with hardened stares.

You thought it would be temporary, that once he realised you were here to stay you’d finally get to meet the Carlos everyone else did.

But it seemed with every interaction his facade grew. A team dinner after Turin you just so happened to be on the furthest end of the table, and while Carlos took the time to talk to his entire team you found yourself left out of the conversation.

Juan Carlos spent months reassuring you that Carlos would get over it but the winter break was ending and with a new season on the horizon you didn’t know how much more you could take.

You were starting to get exhausted by Carlos constantly making your life more difficult.

You were missing deadlines because he wouldn’t give you answers to questions, doing damage control when he posted near nudes on the internet and made sure reporters didn’t piss him off with dumb questions.

Every week that went by you slowly lost the confident attitude the team had got used to seeing, quietly sat in the corner working away rather that trying to involved.

Juan Carlos had noticed the shift in demeanour but he feared there wasn’t much he could do. It was between you and Carlos to figure out.

...

It was the weekend before the Australian Open when you were ready to snap.

The time difference was rough, with your eyelids feeling heavy but sleep escaping you. You sat surrounded by work that you needed to done, while your room called your name.

The day had already been too long, landing in Australia at seemingly the crack of dawn when you realised your bags hadn’t made it to Australia with you.

You’d spent three hours arguing with airport staff when you decided to give up and hope they found their way to the hotel.

You went straight to watching Carlos train, taking media photos and organising some content for the day. That in itself was excruciating as everything you asked him to do took ten times longer than it should’ve.

But now you were sat in your hotel, tired and drained and desperately needing a change of clothes.

You were trying to organise Carlos' media plan for the first week of the tournament, but trying to get him to respond to any of your messages was infuriating.

You needed his answers to the pre-planned questions so you could check them over and give him some nice talking points about off-season but every time you checked your messages you were met with 'delivered'.

It wasn't late, but the jetlag was beginning to hit you which was feeding into your anger. Every second that Carlos ignored your messages was a second you were missing sleep.

Just as you were ready to give up assuming he’d gone to sleep, you received a notification that he’d posted on his Instagram story. That was your last straw.

You audibly groaned, slamming your laptop shut and storming out of your room with it under your arm. You marched yourself to the elevator angrily tapping your foot as the elevator seemed to move at the slowest pace ever.

The ding echoed in your brain, and as you stepped out you were hit with a new wave of anger. You heard his dumb laugh echoing through the walls. This dumb, annoying, stupid tennis player was laughing while you had been begging for him to respond to a simple message.

You stormed down the hall, your chest angrily pounding. You were at the end of your tether. You were so tired of dealing with this man baby.

It had been months of being ignored, ostracised and treated like you had some kind of contagious disease and you were over it.

You stood before his door and knocked repeatedly. You heard him call out that he was coming and you prepared yourself to greet him.

The door swung open, a cheesy grin on his face as he turned see who was at the door. The second he clocked you it faded and was replaced with a nonchalant stare.

He opened his mouth no doubt to ask why you were here but you pushed past him into the hotel room. Juan Carlos and a few other members of the team were in the room and immediately as they saw you they went silent.

"if you wouldn't mind. Alcaraz and I need to get some work done and clearly, he can't handle any distractions." A few of the guys snickered and they didn’t waste any time standing up and heading for the door.

You heard Juan Carlos wish the Spaniard luck as he walked past. Laughing as he patted him on the back. The door closed and Carlos scoffed as you situated yourself on his sofa.

"¿Qué carajo?" (What the fuck?) The Spaniard's tone made you laugh, a dry, fed-up kind of laugh.

"What the fuck indeed. Sit down, shut up and only talk when I tell you to." He looked at you utterly bewildered.

"You know you're supposed to work for me? not the other way around." God you wanted to kill him. You stood up angrily turning to face him with fire in your eyes.

"Funnily enough, that is what I'm trying to do. That is what I have been trying to do for months but for some reason you want to make that as hard as humanly possible for me. Frankly, I'm fed up so sit the fuck down. please."

"No." He stood his ground and crossed his arms as you really considered attacking him.

"I'm sorry what?"

"I don't want to." He turned to head to the small kitchenette, turning on the coffee machine that sent an infuriating buzz throughout the room.

“I don’t want to be stood here, but because you can’t answer a simple text, I am. So please let me do my goddamn job for once.” He scoffed, and leaning against the counter,

“Maybe I didn’t answer your text because I don’t want to answer the questions, ever thought about that?” His stupid grin made you want to throttle him.

"Well Carlos Alcaraz, the almighty. Unfortunately for you I need those answers so how do I get you to sit there and answer these dumb questions." your sarcasm permeated the room.

He paused for a moment, a slight hesitation as he reached for the mug on the side. He turned slowly to face you, a look of pure genius on his face.

"Quit." He moved around the counter calmly, standing in front of you. You hadn’t been this close to the Spaniard since the day you met him.

The invisible 3 feet rule seemingly being implemented by him after the first day.

"What?" Your confusion clearly entertained him as he smiled an evil, sort of confronting smile.

"I'll do what you want for the entire tournament. But at the end of it, you quit." You paused, the tension from the last few months piling up on your shoulders. Did he really hate you that much?

You weren't a quitter, you believed in working hard and figuring out issues. But Carlos had been treating you like an outcast for months and if it meant never having to deal with him again you were seriously considering it.

"One question?" Carlos raised his eyebrow and he zoned in on your focused demeanor.

"seguir." (go on.)

"Why do you hate me so much?" His calm demeanour faltered slightly, something flashing through his gaze that you couldn't quite decipher before it was quickly replaced with indifference.

He grabbed the mug, and moved to the sofa, lazily sitting down. His arm rested along the back and he glanced up at you.

"I don't need a PR manager and I'm sick of you treating me like a child when you're my age." The answer nipped at the back of your brain. You rarely treated him like less that he deserved and if you did it was only ever in retaliation.

"Maybe if you acted your age I wouldn't have to." He scoffed, shaking his head in annoyance.

"It's clear you don't want to be here either, just take the deal." You dropped yourself onto the sofa. Your laptop sat beside you and you let your head fall into your hands. You were defeated.

"I wanted to be here." You didn’t look up but if you had you would’ve seen Carlos’ gaze soften, a pang of guilt hitting him before it was quickly shoved away.

You thought back to your previous job. Travelling the world with F1 drivers had been difficult but those guys had become your friends, you loved your job and you had fun. You wanted this to be like that but it was clear that wasn’t going to happen.

Maybe it was time for you to find something else.

“Fine you win.” You let your hands fall to your sides, your gaze lifting and meeting the brown eyes that made your life a misery.

"I'll quit at the end of the tournament, but you have to give full energy to everything and I need a pair of pyjamas, my luggage got lost.” His eyes lit up with some sort of amusement. At your troubles or you’d you were sure but you needed a solution and he offered one.

Carlos smirked, the first time he'd even remotely smiled in your direction. He moved himself within touching distance of you, reaching out his hand for you to shake.

You interlocked your hand with his, his eyes baring down on you.

"Deal."

————————————————————————

taglist: @champagnecoastca

[werepuppy-steve]

i hate that i have to make this bc there are many other more important donation posts going around rn, but i'm at ny whits and and idk what else to do. 've been trying to sell my house since june. people have been interested and have come to look at it but there've been 0 offers. the realtor i was with pulled it from their website in july.

i really need to either sell this house by winter or be moved out by then. bills are getting higher and i can't afford to keep calling off work when it snows and i can't get off my road. one more call-off and i'm pretty sure it's termination for me. i know i complain about my job a lot but it's the only thing paying my bills atm.

my plan is to buy a camper and move onto my parents' property with it, but with my credit score being what it is, the dealership needs at least a 10% down payment. i thought i could save up enough money on my own but with the way things are currently i'm lucky if i'm able to keep even $100 of every paycheck. i've been nothing but a giant ball of stress since this whole thing started.

it would be so much easier on me mentally and emotionally to try and sell this house once i'm no longer living in it.

i know this sounds like a sob story and i know there are currently people who need money more than me but i truly don't know what else to do other than sit in a corner and cry.

the downpayment of a $25,000 camper is $2,500. i have paypal, ko-fi, venmo and ca$happ.

disclaimer: ko-fi donations are received through paypal, which is associated with my deadname, as is ca$happ. nobody other than myself can access these funds.

paypal/ko-fi: axhiiles

ca$happ: $cxmiccxn

venmo: axhiiles

$50/$2,500 received

[simaddix]

TS3 Medieval Market - Polls Open

The Polls are open over on the Market! Please go vote on your preference for the monthly CC-Making/Gathering event! We have lots to choose from!

Market Day Polls

This will be a monthly themed event - by request!

Keep in mind before you vote that this will be a long-lasting event, giving creators time to plan and execute their ideas. Please try to keep in mind what you could create/provide before voting. We need all the participation we can get!

The Apothecary / Healer (Includes CC, Mods, CAS, Lots, Sims)

Foraging

Herbalism

Alchemy

Witches

Fairies

Medieval Medicine

Etc

The Farm / Homestead (Includes CC, Mods, CAS, Lots, Sims)

Peasant Life

Livestock / Animals

Chores (Firewood, Gathering Water, Cleaning, Cooking)

Harvesting

Food Preservation

Wildlife

Etc

The Village Center (Includes CC, Mods, CAS, Lots, Sims)

Bakery

Bath-house

Consignment

Markets

Inns / Resorts

Taverns

Brewery / Winery

Etc

The Seminary (Includes CC, Mods, CAS, Lots, Sims)

Medieval University

Library Archives

Academics

Books / Study

Religion

Etc

Survivalist (Includes CC, Mods, CAS, Lots, Sims)

Hunting

Butchering

Shelters

Survival Skills

Off – Grid

Foraging

Wildlife

Etc

The Castle (Includes CC, Mods, CAS, Lots, Sims)

Castles

Royal Sims

Village Politics / Finances

Dungeons / Prison

Etc

The Port (Includes CC, Mods, CAS, Lots, Sims)

Boats / Ships

Fishing Market

Beach

Pirates

Sirens / Mermaids

Wildlife

Etc

Village Events (Includes CC, Mods, CAS, Lots, Sims)

Summer Festival

Fall Festival

Winter Festival

Spring Festival

Gypsy Camp

War Camp

Royal Tournaments

Host a ball / party

Tomb Exploration / Loot

Medieval Feast

Etc

Trade Quarter (Includes CC, Mods, CAS, Lots, Sims)

Blacksmith

Carpentry

Armory

Mining

Brothel

Stables

Etc

Come join us! (New invite link! Sorry guys!) https://discord.gg/FhhKnw49

[hogwartsstudentconfidential]

Dear Students,

Miss me? It's been awhile hasn't it. I've been building up the gossip as well as the announcements, thanks to all of the messages I've received from you all. Suck it Quibbler, bet nobody dms you.

Anywho let's get into our announcements for the week as well as congratulate Gryffindor on their win in quidditch this past weekend, as well as a big good luck to Ravenclaw when they go against Slytherin next week.

Of course in good Hogwarts fashion, Gryffindor will be hosting a celebratory party in the common room this weekend, all are invited so make sure to dress up and let the drama unfold ;).

On another note I have been alerted about a surprise exam professor Sprout is planning on assigning her students so make sure to study, but only after the party of course.

As everyone knows winter season is approaching quickly which means Madame Pomfrey will be packed with sick students. The woman is already stressed enough with you reckless gits so please wash your hands and cover your mouths this year.

Now onto everybody's favorite part of this newspaper, the gossip:

Onto relationships, Congratulations to Pandora Rosier and Lucius Malfoy on their new relationship, the two are very cute together. However, has anyone else noticed the amount of flirting Lucius Malfoy does with other girls? If I were Pandora I’d keep an eye on my man.

Now the amount of messages I've received about Emmeline and Mary being, and I quite “SO gay for each other” is honestly insane. I mean, it's so obvious to everyone but them they're in love. Did you see the way they were whispering and giggling to each other at the firework show? Mary couldn't keep her eyes off the girl.

Now onto James Potter. The star quidditch player and prankster is well known around Hogwarts of course as well as his beautiful girlfriend Hestia. However a little Birdy has told me the loving boyfriend might not be so loyal. A lot of people have been suspecting the boy is in love with another. He disappeared the night of the fireworks to go get “snacks” by himself, refusing company and the only other person missing besides himself was none other than Regulus Black.

I have even received an interesting direct message for Mr Potter I will send out after this of course.

I've also been alerted of a possible tension growing between Marlene and Hestia, my supplier lacked on what type of tension so you take your pick. Do you think it's romantic or are the two girls about to give Hogwarts the best fight of the century? Let me know what you think.

Now back to Pandora, it seems as though she's made an enemy? The girl was recently questioned about a kiss between her and Xenophilus Lovegood. The girl immediately denied the rumor, her own boyfriend standing up for her, but he wasn't the only one. Xenophilus Lovegood also stood up for the girl, I suppose he is her friend but could there be something more? Lucius himself has even spoken of concern for where the girl's heart lies. Could a love triangle be brewing?

Onto some more exciting news, James Potter is handing out invitations for his mother's Christmas ball. This wonderful event is sure to be nothing but magical so if you receive an invite consider yourself lucky.

Oh and Remus Lupin's middle name is John.

Now before I sign out I’d like to say a little something. The Quibbler may be fun for little facts about creatures but it's hardly anything if the spelling is incorrect. Xenophilus Lovegood, it's best if you check your spelling and check it twice.

Thank you for reading this week's copy of Hogwarts Confidential and I will see you all next time. 💋

@emmelineandhervans @wormy-loves-ch33se @james-the-amazing-potter @marls-mckinn0n @andromedashoax @little-king-official @severusprince-snape @the-queen-bellatrix @thehotteststarr @lifeofthe-barty @mary-mcdeal @looneymoonyy @lilyevansoffical @xeno-graphical @pandoras-nox @oxxen--free @cas-not-the-band @flowers-of-narcissus @alicethekindone @malfoy-lu @mystical-magical-me @hjonesworld

[ri5bi]

If u say request stuff thennnn

Youre a fan of CAS right? Can i request big biiiig raph giving a ride to tiny raph so that he can experience getting a piggy back ride as well for once :>

Or maybe big leo and small leo having a sword fight or something, with big leo showing off his skills one handed even because thats honestly something i need so badly

Or if you rather like mikey, maybe big and small mikey hanging out and painting together! Or maybr cooking

And lastly, if ur more of a donnie fan, the donnies are doing mischief together, tomfoolery even, teaming up against their common enemy: beach balls

All these are just ideas though and if you feel like doing any of them go ahead and if not just ignore me pfffffff

Have an awesome day!!!!

I'M ALIVE I SWEAR

sorry for the delay, finals week had me down for the count and winter break was stock FULL of errands and adulting and grahh i hate being responsible

anyhoodle, i absolutely LOVE your ideas!! so much so that i spent most of my downtime drawing all of them :') please feel free to send more whenever you'd like <3

they're definitely headed to the carousel ride

broke: they would sulk together about their guilt and martyr complexes

woke: they would make insufferable sparring partners /lh

the only thought in my head with this one was "ratatouille" even though future mikey is probably still good at cooking (and is also teaching present mikey how to be ~magical~)

this is a panel pulled from a (very rough) comic i've been working on (and is also the other main reason why i haven't been active lol). i won't spoil anything, but it's gonna be a while before i polish it enough to post it (and yes, there will be beachballs i promise)

again, you're ideas are awesome, dude! one of my big new years resolutions is to draw and post more, so thanks for taking the time to reach out :)

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: ‘tis the damn season! the first of four holiday themed fics that i’m BEYOND excited to share with you guys! i know i’ve gotten some requests to write more brady, which is why i started with him lol. i’ve missed writing him and i’ll definitely be working on my brady wip list this winter! as always, he’s a cane because i really hate the nashville yellow whoops 😇

word count: 2.4k

tw: domestic fluff

summary: you get more than you thought you would when starting a new holiday tradition with brady

“Ready?” Brady pokes his head into the kitchen, a navy beanie pulled low over his forehead. His eyes are bright and his smile is wide. He looks so adorably excited.

“Ready!” You grin, holding up the thermos that you’d just finished screwing the lid onto. “Hot chocolate all good to go.”

It’s unfortunately not spiked, since Brady has to drive, but you figure you can add a little Bailey’s or whiskey to it when you get home.

You snag two mugs out of the cabinet, thick ones with high walls so you don’t spill anything in the car, and a bag of marshmallows for good measure. No self respecting mug of hot chocolate would be complete without an avalanche of marshmallows.

Brady’s waiting at the door to the condo, keys in hand. He’s got a thick fleece blanket in his arms too and you bounce a little on the balls of your feet, ready to bundle up in the front seat of his car. “Dogs are fed and walked,” he confirms, shifting the blanket under one arm so he can use his free hand to adjust the hat on your head. “Crooked,” he comments with a little smile.

“Thanks,” you murmur and before following Brady out the door, you wave at Sully and Reese, piled together on one dog bed like a huge furry ball. “Bye, boys! No wild ragers while we’re gone.”

Sully yawns at you, tongue lolling out of his mouth and Brady snorts a laugh. “Oh yeah, those are two party animals,” he jokes, pulling the door shut and locking it.

“You never know,” you chirp, falling into step next to Brady as you make your way towards the elevator. “It’s always the quiet ones who end up doing a keg stand.”

“Speaking from experience?” Brady teases, crowding you against the corner of the elevator and dipping his head to kiss you. The blanket under his arm is a bulky block that prevents you from getting too close to him, but you lean up on your toes and kiss him back, tracing your tongue over his lower lip. Your heart kicks into overdrive in your chest, fluttering with the excitement of kissing Brady.

You’ve been together just under a year and it’s your first Christmas together, so the season feels extra magical.

“You know it,” you wink, breathless in your response to his question. Your face feels warm, your lips tingly and puffed from his kiss. “I did my fair share of keg stands in college.”

“I wouldn’t call you quiet though,” Brady tosses the words over his shoulder with a smirk and a wink. You gape at his retreating back, your core clenching and your face heating up at Brady’s implications.

He’s not wrong, is the worst part. But he’s also the one encouraging you to be as loud as possible when screaming his name. So who’s really to blame?

Brady’s got the passenger side door open for you and you climb in, smiling softly at him when you murmur a ‘thanks, babe.’ You push the thermos and mugs into his arms while you buckle your seat belt and take it all back, including the fleece blanket, which you tuck around your lap and drape over your shoulder.

You snuggle in while Brady starts the car and gets the heat pumping. He flips the Sirius station to a Christmas music preset and you’re greeted by the iconic stylings of Mariah Carey.

“Oh, perfect!” You give a little shimmy in your seat and start singing along. Brady smiles and hums along, not quite singing yet.

Downtown Raleigh slips away into the suburbs and that’s where things start to get fun. The houses are all decorated for Christmas and the sparkly twinkle of lights bathes the inside of the car in multiple colors.

Brady pulls the car over to the side of the street so you can pour hot chocolate into the mugs and hand him one. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he clinks his mug against yours. “Cheers to a new Christmas tradition.”

“Cheers,” you reply, digging out a handful of marshmallows from the bag and settling them into your mug. Brady’s mug gets less marshmallows than yours, but still a respectable amount.

The radio continues playing quietly, Bing Crosby singing about being home for Christmas, and Brady slowly pulls the car back onto the road. He drives carefully through the neighborhoods so you can really enjoy the lights and displays people have put up.

“Oh,” you sigh, “I wish I had a house and lawn to decorate like this.”

One house has a life-sized Santa on the porch, a sleigh with gifts on the lawn, and icicle lights hanging from the gutters. Their neighbor’s house looks like a gingerbread house and the next has the roof and windows outlined in Edison bulbs.

Brady nods, sipping at his hot chocolate carefully. “Decorating the balcony doesn’t really give the same effect,” he agrees. His condo is decorated more than usual because you took over, with Brady’s blessing. You’ve been testing out an arrangement where you spend a chunk of your time at his place, not totally moved in, but it’s definitely been a 75/25 split on how much time you spend at his condo over your apartment.

Knock wood, it’s been going really well. You’ve settled into a routine with the dogs and with his hockey schedule.

Being with Brady is just easy and you’d been a little overwhelmed when he mentioned starting some new holiday traditions a few weeks back. He’s already coming to spend Christmas Eve and Day with your family in Charlotte, but in the days and weeks leading up to the holidays, you’ve been making memories in his free time.

You suck a marshmallow up between your teeth and chew, swallowing before you say, “I think we did our best with the balcony though. I’m adding a little tree to the pot out there, by the way.”

“Whatever you want,” Brady agrees with an easy smile. The corners of his eyes crinkle and you’re filled with a rush of love for him. You’ve been saying it for months now, but it never gets old.

So you say it now, again.

“I love you,” you grin back at him, pulling your feet up on the seat and wrapping your hands around your mug.

“I love you,” Brady parrots, laughing. “If you keep saying it, it might lose its meaning.”

“Nah,” you shake your head. “I don’t think I’ll ever mean it any less than I do right now, drinking hot chocolate and driving around looking at Christmas lights with you, Brady.”

In response, Brady’s face crinkles up into an even wider smile, eyes squinting nearly shut. He transfers his mug to his left hand and reaches for you with his right. You lace your fingers with his, the warmth from both your mugs of hot chocolate making your fingers tingle. Brady brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it, squeezing gently.

He pulls the car over to park on the side of the street and your stomach flips in excitement because it’s dark enough for a little fooling around, but that doesn’t seem to be Brady’s plan. He turns off the car and you pout, even though it’s still warm and actually you’re getting a little sweaty at your hairline under your hat.

“Let’s go walk around and look at the houses up close,” Brady suggests, pocketing his keys and pushing open his door.

You wrinkle your nose a little, not really into the idea of walking around. But it’s a nice enough night, not too cold, and Brady’s opening your door, holding his hand out for you to take. You shrug and pour more hot chocolate and marshmallows into your mug before climbing out of the car and lacing your right hand with his left. He keeps you on the inside of the sidewalk and you smile to yourself.

There are a few other people walking around and you lift your mug at them in a vague wave, smiling when they smile at you. Brady keeps his hand in yours and lifts them to point at one house, “how high is their electric bill?”

The house is covered in lights from top to bottom, illuminating the block as if it were daytime.

“Astronomical,” you reply, blinking against the aggressively bright lights. Brady leads you down the sidewalk and your eyes are still stinging from the assault, bright spots dancing in your vision.

There’s a house with a whole host of inflatable Disney characters on the lawn and they either have kids or they’re Disney Adults.

Another house has spotlights shining on bigger than life sized cutouts of the Sesame Street characters dressed in their winter finest. You beam at that one and let go of Brady’s hand for a moment so you can take a picture of the decorations, explaining to him that the Sesame Street Muppets were the only thing you’d watch as a kid and your mom will love this decor.

“I always liked the Muppets,” Brady comments, laughing when he continues, “Animal always kind of reminds me of Jarvy.”

A surprised laugh bursts out of your mouth and you nod. “Yeah, I can definitely see that,” you giggle, following along as Brady guides you down the sidewalk. “Agent of chaos and always entertaining.”

A gust of wind ruffles your hair and you sip at your hot chocolate, even as it feels like Brady is tugging on your hand to move faster. But it’s not that late, and he doesn’t have a game tomorrow, so you’re not sure why he seems like he’s in a rush. Maybe he’s getting cold.

“Oh, this is sad!” You murmur, spotting the gorgeous house seven or eight down from where you started. It’s the only dark house on the block. Not a single Christmas light or decoration to be found. There’s just a single porch light on and you wonder if the owners don’t celebrate Christmas. Hopefully it’s that and not something sadder. “It’s the only one on the block not decorated!”

Brady looks up at the house and his lips twist in a strange expression, like he’s biting the inside of his cheek to stop from reacting. “Huh, yeah. That’s definitely…” He trails off and you look up at him.

“How would you decorate it?” He rushes to ask, before you can think of something else to say.

You blink at him. “Huh? The house?”

Brady nods. “Yeah,” he gestures with his mug, “there’s no decorations, so how would you decorate it?”

Your brow furrows because there’s something in his tone that you can’t quite pinpoint, his face open and curious. But you indulge the question, snuggling against his side when Brady drapes his arm over your shoulder, still holding your hand so that your own forearm is crossed over your chest.

“Definitely icicle lights,” you start, gesturing to the roof. “It would look like a perfect little gingerbread house, lined like that. Garland and lights around the porch railings, too.”

Brady hums in your ear, encouraging you to continue.

“Maybe a giant sprig of mistletoe,” you say slyly, “you know, hang it right over the front door.”

“I wouldn’t need mistletoe for an excuse to kiss you when I leave every morning,” Brady teases. “I already do that. Should we put a big wreath on the door?”

His question is serious, talking as if the house is yours, and it’s nice to pretend for a moment. So you nod and tip your head back against his chest so you can look up at the side of his face. “Of course, what would the neighbors think if we didn’t put up a wreath?” You joke.

“Wouldn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with them,” Brady murmurs, breath warm against your cheek. “Especially if we’re going to live here for a long time.”

You tug on his hand and wrinkle your nose. It was a cute little joke, but now it almost feels like he’s taking it too far. You keep your tone light when you reply, “good thing we’re not living here and don’t have to worry about the neighbors.”

Brady brushes his lips against your temple and says softly, “what if we did? Live here.”

“What?” You ask after a moment’s confusion. You understand Brady’s question, but it’s not making any sense. “Did you buy-“

“Not yet,” Brady interrupts you, more out of excitement than anything else. You can feel the anxious excitement vibrating off of him and you turn to face him, surprised to see the huge, nervous smile on his face. “I didn’t buy it yet,” he continues.

“But you’re going to?” Your stomach flutters, heart pounding.

“I wanted you to see it,” Brady cups your cheek with his hand, his fingers just as cold as your skin. “I know we’ve been doing the split time, but I’ve been thinking and we need more space. For the dogs, for us. To start building our lives together.”

Tears flood your lash line and it’s too much, but not enough. You chew at your lower lip, a grin escaping anyway.

“This isn’t a proposal, right?” You murmur. “Just so I’m clear.”

Brady chuckles, his eyes as soft as his smile. “Not yet, sweetheart. But if you like the house, I’ll call the realtor on Monday and put in an offer,” he sounds nervous and you nod.

“I really like the house, Brady,” you whisper. A disbelieving laugh. “I really like you.”

“I really like you, too,” he leans in and tilts you face up to kiss you and he tastes like chocolate and sugar and home. His thumb brushes against your cheekbone and you melt, knees weak and heart full. You hold your mug tightly, half of your brain focusing on keeping it upright so the drink doesn’t spill on the ground and your shoes. When Brady pulls away, you lift up on your toes to kiss him again, soft and quick, smiling against his lips.

“Can we go home and tell the boys they’re getting a yard to play in?” You tease, bouncing a little on the balls of your feet.

“Yeah,” Brady laughs, taking your hand again and heading back down the street towards his car. “And you can start shopping for that wreath.”

“Don’t forget the mistletoe,” you reply, unable to keep the smile off your face. Moving in with Brady full time had been the next step in your relationship, but a whole house? And his plans for the future? You hadn’t realized that he was thinking and planning that seriously.

Brady winks at you, “I could never forget the mistletoe, sweetheart. That’s the first thing going up when we buy the house.”

We.

You and Brady, a team.

Your heart swells with love for him and you can’t wait to see what’s next.

[mithrilwren]

Writing Meme - 1,2,3,4,5

I was tagged by @thetragicallynerdy, thanks for the tag!! This is such a fun one!

Rules: give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words (feel free to interpret however you would like; if not on AO3, can be on tumblr or FFN!).

Most hits: Only the Nightingale Sings, Critical Role, genfic with all 7 M9 povs. Canon divergence where Yeza is captured by the Cerberus Assembly and the M9 get trapped in Rexxentrum while trying to save him. This is also my longest fic and still the dearest to my heart.

Second most kudos: A Winter's Ball, Critical Role, Beau/Jester (implied). A VM/M9 crossover wherein the two parties attend a Winter's Crest celebration in Tal'Dorei and Beau gets some romance advice.

Third most comments: Heaven Here, Star Trek: AOS, Kirk/McCoy. A horror-esque extended take on the classic TOS episode This Side of Paradise, where Kirk and a mind-muddled McCoy return to earth in the aftermath, and Kirk tries to help McCoy find his way back to sanity.

Fourth most bookmarks: Four Letter Words, D20: Escape from the Bloodkeep, Leiland/Marcus St. Vincent. A Leiland character study, mostly focused on his relationship with the other vile villains. I think this might be the first EFTB fic published on Ao3, which is kind of fun!

Fifth most words: Transit, Supernatural, Cas/Benny. A road trip fic about our favourite angel and vampire learning to love each other in the absence of the love of both their lives (ie. Dean). This was the first multichapter I ever wrote and man, does it have its technical issues, but it was a great learning experience!

Least words: Metronome, Supernatural, Sam & Dean genfic. In which Dean has sleep apnea and Sam stresses. I'd forgotten how many short ficlets I wrote for SPN back in the day.

It's cool to see the spread of fandoms here! I feel like I sometimes divide my Ao3 eras into SPN, Critical Role, and now One Piece, but there are lots of other fandoms sprinkled in there too.

I'm tired and struggling to think of who to tag, but if you want to do this, please do and tag me so I can see! Also, if you're someone who likes being tagged in these things, feel free to reply to this post and I'll make a little list for myself for the future! (Stealing your excellent idea on that front, @thetragicallynerdy haha)

[watchandread02]

For the "Holidays with the Winchesters: A very Destiel Christmas Advent Calendar" by @archervale and @wormstacheangel

Day Eight: Winter

Ao3

Jack takes both of their hands, once Cas has helped him out of the car. They swing Jack around a bit as they walk up to the entrance. Sometimes Jack lets out a little giggle and it warms Dean’s heart every time.

‘Winter Wonderland’ the sign over the archway proclaims.

Jack is looking around mesmerized, taking in all the lights and attractions. Dean can understand the kid, it truly is a magical sight. All the booths are lined with Christmas lights, which blink to the beat of the Christmas songs playing over the speakers. There is a large Ferris Wheel, which looks gorgeous in the setting sun. Dean even catches sight of a skating rink and a fairytale wonderlandt.

“So what do you want to do first?” Dean asks.

Jack contemplates it for a moment. “I wanna go on the giant wheel first!” he says as he points at the Ferris Wheel.

“Then we’ll do that.” Cas says.

They make their way over to the Ferris Wheel and get in line. Dean and Cas try to distract Jack by pointing out pretty lights and playing I Spy. Luckily they don’t have to wait for long before they can get into a gondola.

Dean and Cas are sitting next to each other, with Jack in Cas’ lap. As the Wheel begins to move and make its ascend, the compartment shakes a little bit. Oh shit, Dean hadn’t really thought this through. He was just so happy about Jack’s excitement, that he hadn’t thought about the fact that they would leave the ground in a tiny metal death trap. He grips the handle bar tightly as he starts to hum metallica. His humming stops as another hand grabs his, where it is balled up on his thigh. He looks towards Cas, to find him already looking back.

“Are you okay?” Cas whispers as he squeezes Dean's hand.

“Yeah, just… you know… heights. Didn’t really think this through. But I’ll be okay.” Dean says, as he entangles his fingers with Cas’ and puts on a smile that Dean hopes is even just a little bit reassuring. Cas gives him a worried look, but Jack pulling on his sleeves, pulls his attention away. Dean just keeps staring at Jack and Cas interacting, pointing out all the sights and laughing together. When Cas looks back at him, Dean is smiling fondly at the scene. Cas’ face softens and he gives Dean a quick peck on the lips, before he turns back around to talk with Jack. Watching the two of them makes the ride go by quickly and before Dean knows it they are back on the ground. Dean finds it surprising that he actually feels really steady on his feet. Maybe heights aren’t so bad when you have something worth getting off the ground for.

“Well how about we get our bodies moving a bit? There’s an ice skating rink over there.” Dean says, as he gestures over to the rink.

“But I don't know how.” Jack says in a sad voice.

“Well I don't know how to either. So, I guess we’ll just learn together? Maybe Dean can teach us?” Cas says, addressing the last question to Dean.

Faced with two very persuasive blue eyed, puppy dog faces, Dean really wouldn't be able to say no, even if he wanted to.

“Okay, let’s do this.” Dean says as he claps his hands. The twin smiles breaking out across Jack’s and Cas’ face makes Dean’s own smile even wider.

They get Jack one of those skating helpers in the form of a penguin. He’s a bit unsure at first, but gets his bearings pretty fast and soon enough he is skating laps around the rink, without Dean hovering a few steps behind.

Dean goes to the rink’s entrance where Cas is waiting.

Holding out his hand, Dean asks, “you ready for this?”

“I guess.” Cas says as he takes Dean’s outstretched hand.

Dean pulls Cas onto the ice carefully. Cas flounders a bit as he steps onto the slippery ice for the first time. Dean pulls him close and steadies Cas, who gives him a grateful smile. Dean instructs Cas to hold onto the banister as he moves off a bit to show him how to skate. They start with Cas just practicing at the rail for a bit, before slowly moving away from the wall. Dean is always beside Cas, holding his hand and gently guiding him through the motions. Once Cas has the hang of it they move around the rink slowly, holding hands and watching Jack enjoy himself. After about half an hour Jack comes up to them, the kid looks pretty tired.

“I wanna eat something now.” Jack whines.

“Okay, why don’t you and Dean look for something for us to eat and I’ll return our skates?” Cas asks.

“Okay Dad.” Jack answers.

They make their way out of the skating rink and get out of their skates. Cas moves off to turn in their shoes and Jack and Dean move towards the booths to find something to eat.

“Hey Jack, you okay with eating Flammkuchen or would you rather eat Kartoffelpuffer?”

“I haven’t had either of those, so can we try both?” Jack asks.

“Yeah no problem, let me just send a text to your Dad so he knows where we are.” Dean does just that, before they start walking again.

“Dean, can you pick me up? My feet are tired.” Jack asks, pulling out the puppy eyes again.

“Of course, little man. You okay with going on my shoulders?” Dean answers.

Jack practically lights up. “Yeah, then I’ll be as tall as you and Dad!”

Dean hoists Jack up on his shoulders, making sure he has a secure grip on the kids legs, before starting to walk again.

They have successfully acquired the Flammkuchen and are standing in line for the Kartoffelpuffer when Cas finally joins them again. Dean had been getting kind of worried where his boyfriend was, but the three mugs in his hand give him a clue.

“Hey sweetheart. I see you got us some drinks?” Dean asks as Cas comes to stand beside them.

“Yes I did. And I see Jack is having fun.” Cas answers as he looks up at Jack who is still perched on top of Dean’s shoulders. Jack looks down at them for a moment, before going back to staring out over the booths.

“I’ll get us a seat at those tables there, while you get the food.” Cas says. He gives the two of them

Once they have gotten the food, they join Cas at the table. Dean sets down the food, before pulling Jack down from his shoulders and depositing him on the bench.

They eat their food and drink their hot chocolate, while Jack prattles on about everything and anything. Jack doesn’t seem to be much of a fan of the Flammkuchen, but the Kartoffelpuffer seem to be a hit.

Once they have fueled up with the food, Jack wants to see the fairytale wonderland. They throw away their trash and then move towards the fairytale wonderland. Jack walks around, taking everything in with big wondrous eyes. Dean and Cas walk a few steps behind him, holding hands, but having just as much fun looking at all the intricate reenactments of the popular fairy tales.

“You know this was a great idea. Jack’s definitely having fun.” Cas tells Dean.

Dean smiles really big. “I’m happy he’s having fun.”

Dean squeezes Cas’ hand before asking, “are you having fun as well, though? This is supposed to be great for all of us.”

“Yes, definitely. I mean I learned how to skate, so that’s a big plus. And just spending time with you and Jack, that always makes me happy. Thank you for taking us here, Dean.” Cas says sincerely.

Cas pulls them to a stop, before turning Dean to face him. They share a short and sweet kiss, before moving to follow after Jack again. Once they have completed a round of the fairytale wonderland, Jack looks tuckered out. Jack asks to get picked up by Cas and they make the decision to go back home.

Cas carries Jack in his arms back to the car, where he moves to put Jack into his car seat, but Jack protests.

“No, I want Dean to do it.” Jack says, reaching out for Dean with grabby hands.

Cas transfers Jack easily into Dean’s arms. Jack snuggles close to Dean for a moment and Dean holds him just that bit more tightly. Jack reluctantly lets go of him so they can actually make a move on to get home.

“Thanks for today, Pops.” Jack whispers, almost drifting off into sleep.

Dean chokes out, “no problem buddy,” before softly closing the door.

When Dean turns around, Cas is looking at him with an impossible soft look on his face. Cas opens his arms and Dean steps right into them.

“He just called me Pops.” Dean says, as tears start to make their way down his face.

Cas gently wipes at his cheeks before giving Dean a quick kiss. “Yeah we had a talk about it a few days ago. He said that he wants to start calling you Pops now and I told him that he should try it out and see what your reaction would be. I take it, you’re okay with him calling you that?”

“Yeah of course I am. I’m ecstatic about this. I love Jack, I love you. You two are my family and I’ve been starting to think of Jack as my son for a bit now, but I didn’t want to step on any toes.” Dean answers.

“No toes are being stepped on, don’t worry. And I love you too.” Cas says as he pulls Dean in for another kiss. This one lasts a little longer than the other ones they had shared throughout the evening. Pulling away for air, they stand close together, foreheads touching, just enjoying the moment for a bit. After a couple of minutes they detangle from each other and get into the car, to drive home.

[dreaming-medium]

Animals Without Direction

Chapter Twelve - Rest

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

The night before the battle left you with nothing but a vibrating ball of emotion. A large camp was set up on the Miron side of the Amvista river hidden among the thick and tall trees of the woods. Only a few fires were lit to make certain that Erbus did not see any signs of life.

The moon has been in the sky for about five hours at this point, leaving it a little after midnight. 

Jeongin bid you a good night about two hours ago, leaving you by yourself in front of the campfire. Despite its warmth, you still find yourself shaking, and you’re not sure it's from the chill in the air. 

Tomorrow everything will change. 

Elves have been considered outlaws in Erbus for close to thirty five years, and finally, tomorrow, action will happen.

Thoughts of your mother and father float around your head. If they could see where you were now, you’re not sure how they would react. First and foremost, they would just want you to be safe; that’s all they ever wanted.

You found safety in Miroh.

It wasn’t until recently that you realized that you never felt as though you needed to have eyes on the back of your head while walking through the Keep. There was never that tingling of danger in the back of your mind to watch your back. 

“A soldier up late on the eve of battle?” a smooth voice comes from behind you.

Tearing your exhausted gaze from the fire, you look up at Hyunjin. His sharp eyes are looking at you closely, scanning all over your face.

You hum and look away from him back to the dancing flames. 

“Someone needs to watch the camp.”

“There are soldiers on guard around the entire perimeter. Worry not, mercenary, get some rest. You appear as though you desperately need it.”

Your jaw clenches and your body shrinks in on itself a little. Your shoulders slump forward and chin dips down towards your chest. You’ve avoided mirrors purposefully for at least a week.

“If it makes you feel any safer, you can rest your head in my tent for the night.” Hyunjin adds.

You perk up a bit, a tent means warmth. The last few nights you either spent sitting on a log in front of the fire or curled up on your side in your bedroll, aching for warmth.

Winter was only a month away and this year it felt like it was coming early. Frost clung to the grass well after sunrise.

You pause, looking down at the dirt for a moment. “I would very much appreciate that.”

When you look up at Hyunjin again, he only smirks and jerks his head in another direction. “Come on then. Everyone will be waking up to march in only a few short hours.”

Quickly, you stand up from the log, grab your bedroll, and follow the mage. As soon as you walk away from the campfire, a wet coldness seeps into your bones. It feels like you jumped into a frozen lake before standing up.

Hyunjin leads you over to his small tent in the middle of camp. It’s nothing special but you know the canvas walls will keep you from frosting over with the foliage. 

He ducks inside first and you follow him. His bedroll is already laid out with a small lantern and book next to it.

The wall of warmth that hits you curls around your body like a blanket. An immediate sigh of relief leaves your lips. The heat is such a welcomed contrast compared to your frigid skin, it almost makes your joints ache from the extreme difference.

Hyunjin walks over and slides his bedroll to the side to give you some room. With your two sleeping bags side by side, there is basically no more room inside the tent. 

“Have you been sleeping outside these past few nights?” he asks as he watches you set up your sleeping space.

“More or less.”

“Pardon?”

“I am not really able to sleep much these days.” you admit, not looking over at him. He sat down on top of his bedroll, long legs stretched out in front of him.

“Is there a reason for this?” he prods more.

You think for a moment before shaking your head. “Nay,” it comes out as a whisper. “If I am being plain with you, I cannot recall when I last was able to sleep for more than an hour without my eyes opening.”

The mage only watches you, his head cocked to the side.

You continue, “Perhaps it is the idea of war that is keeping my brain awake. Since Jisung’s return to Miroh and the Jarl’s official declaration of war my mind has not known rest.”

While talking, you open your bedroll and slink inside, letting the warmth envelope you in a fabric embrace. The inside was coated with sheep’s wool.

Back in Erbus you had it commissioned when you had gotten a lucky break and raked in more gold than usual one month. It was large and cozy, its weight on top of your body was comforting and familiar. 

Hyunjin turns a knob on the lantern and the flame inside goes out.

You stare up at the top of the tent. “I do fear that my exhaustion will affect my abilities tomorrow.” The last confession comes out a bit quieter than your previous words. “But no matter how hard I try, I cannot rest. I believe it may be driving me mad.” you let out a gentle laugh with the last bit.

Hyunjin stared at you for a long moment, watching you get settled in your bedroll. He cocked his head from side to side, as if weighing something in his head.

Finally, he lets out a sigh.

“Make room.” he says suddenly, crawling towards you.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Make room for me in your bedroll, mercenary.”

You looked at him as if he had three heads. Your eyebrows pulled together in a shocked manner, your mouth hanging open slightly.

“Did you hit your head again?”

Hyunjin scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Do you want to sleep or not?”

“And how exactly would me letting you in my bedroll make me sleep?”

He lifts an eyebrow and smirks down at you. “What sort of thoughts are you having?”

“What sort of thoughts are you having?” You repeat his question back at him, your voice raising.

“Hush.” He quiets you down and lifts the one corner of your bedroll. “Make room, Y/N.”

You yank the blanket back from him and scoot away from him a small distance, balking. “Explain yourself first!”

He reaches forward and drags you back towards him by the blankets, you clutch them closer to you. His hand grabs your wrist through your bedroll, the grip is tight, but not in a painful way.

“Will you please trust me, Y/N?” he asks. His voice took on a different tone. It’s softer, calmer, as if trying to soothe you.

He looks down at you with such a pleading look to his eyes, he genuinely wants to help you. You just wish you knew what his plan was.

You sit there for a few extra moments, staring at his face closely for any sign that he was pulling a stunt. “You truly are going to help me sleep?”

“Aye, you have my word, Y/N.” He places his fist over his chest.

You sigh, “Fine.” You lift the corner of your bedroll and scoot backwards, leaving him with plenty of room. “But by The Six, if you do anything I will-”

“I will not.” he says sternly.

Hyunjin nimbly crawls inside your bedroll; the bedroll that felt extremely roomy only a few moments ago now feels close, but not suffocating.

Maybe it’s because you’ve never had a second body inside of it.

His body heat immediately fills the fabric. The chill from outside is nowhere to be found inside this enclosed space, it’s like you have your own personal hearth right here in the tent. 

The mage shuffles around, trying to get comfortable, he leans over and grabs his own pillow, stuffing it under his head and turning on his side to face your body. 

How are you supposed to sleep? Your body is now on high alert, you’re aware of every single movement he’s making, every breath he’s taking.

You’re laying on your back, he’s shifting around to your right. 

When he finally settles down, he speaks up. “Come here.”

Your head snaps over to look at the mage, he’s turned on his side and is fully looking at you. Again, your expression pulls into an incredulous stare. Before you can say some nonsense, he preemptively cuts you off.

“Y/N, just come here.”

You roll your eyes and hesitantly turn on your side to face him. Suddenly, he reaches one arm out and wraps it around your body, bringing you impossibly close to him. Both of your faces are centimeters away.

Your eyes widen.

Hyunjin’s hand slowly trails from your waist, up your side, over your shoulder until he finally cups the side of your face.

His fingers are so soft, you half-expected them to be calloused from battle and working primarily with fire. But the skin is so smooth and settles on your face nicely. His thumb swipes under your eye and along your cheekbone, his pinky and ring finger caressing your jawline.

In the darkness, you can see his lips part and his eyelids droop a bit. 

For a few seconds longer, he stares at your face. Both of your eyes lock and your breath hitches. His deep red gaze is hard to break away from. It’s like he’s caught you in a trap. A dazzling, scarlet trap.

Then, you feel it, his hand begins to warm up even more. But it never turns hot, it only stays warm, like he held them over the fire for a minute. A slight tingle pricks at your skin where his fingers rest.

It’s not unpleasant in any way.

Slowly, his eyes close and his brow furrows only slightly in concentration.

“Relax.” Hyunjin whispers, the exhale fans over your own lips.

How are you supposed to relax when your exhales are mingling with one another? When you can practically feel his heartbeat as if it was your own?

You do not close your eyes, you continue to stare at his doll-like face unabashedly. Everything about him is absolutely perfect. There’s not a single blemish to be seen on his face, smooth, soft skin and silky hair. 

He had it down loose for sleeping. The chunk of red is still present. 

After about three minutes, your eyelids begin to droop in a way that you haven’t felt in so long. It feels like there’s tiny weights attached to each of your eyelashes. That always present straining headache begins to dull and fade.

All of your muscles relax and untense, even your jaw slacks slightly.

“Relax,” Hyunjin repeats again, his words a soft whisper. And again you feel both syllables against your own lips.

With each blink, your eyes close more and more.

A calmness washes over you. Your bedroll is suddenly comfier than your bed in the keep. The sleepiness that you’ve craved for so many nights now is finally taking you.

The hand on your face moves slowly and cards through your hair, gently brushing away any strands that fell in your face. His fingers comb through the locks gently, lulling you further and further into dreamland.

“Rest now, Y/N.”

Just as your eyes close completely, Hyunjin leans over and presses his lips to your forehead. Like a shockwave, a flood of peace goes down your body at the contact.

You’re not sure how long he keeps his lips to your skin because by the time you could register the action, sleep finally took you.

----------------------------------------------

Warmth. An unbelievably comfortable warmth surrounded your entire body. It wrapped around you like a serpent and kept you in its tight hold.

Voices of soldiers outside stirred you from your first real sleep in two or three weeks. Your eyes no longer felt as though they were straining in their sockets.

Everyone was packing up for the battle. It was time.

“Hyunjin,” you hear Changbin’s voice from outside the tent, “Wake up, we leave in thirty minutes time.”

His footsteps recede from outside the canvas tent.

Hyunjin? That’s right, you were in Hyunjin’s tent.

He used some sort of magic to finally allow you to fall into a restful, dreamless slumber. 

The weight on your waist suddenly tightens and you’re held tighter against something solid. Is that…?

A soft groan comes from behind you and your body tenses up. It absolutely is. 

Hyunjin moves around a bit from behind you, his arm still tightly wound around your midsection, bringing you flush against his long, lithe form. Every part of you was molded against him. From your back to your feet, every body part interlocked with his.

As he’s waking up, his body writhes and his hips move against yours a bit. Much to your chagrin, it sends a shock wave up your spine and into the base of your neck. 

He lets out a long yawn, the heat from his breath blows over the back of your head. Hyunjin’s head dips down slightly and is pressed between the top of your shoulder blades as he stretches out his legs. The arm around you is only getting tighter.

Does he know you’re awake? Does he realize it’s you that he’s holding like this?

With one final stretch, he releases your waist and runs his hand up your side like he did last night. He traces each curve of your body and stops at your shoulder.

“Y/N,” he says in your ear. When had he leaned forward? “You can quit pretending to be asleep.”

You stay quiet for a moment longer before opening your eyes, it’s still dark outside. 

If the army was going to make it to Fort Mire by first light, you all needed to leave soon. 

Hyunjin rolled his body away from yours, peeling himself from the bedroll. When he lifts the blanket, a rush of cold air finds its way inside the warm blankets.

You hiss and curl in, grabbing the blankets closer to yourself. He only laughs at you. 

A silent moment settles in the tent. 

“I had not had rest like that in so long,” you admit quietly, Hyunjin stops shuffling around and watches you as you roll over onto your back to look at him. “Thank you.”

The last interaction you had with the mage had ended poorly; truly, it was at both of your faults. 

Hyunjin watches you a little longer before nodding, a slight smile on his face. It’s genuine and reaches his dark red eyes. 

“Aye,” he says simply, “If you need my assistance again, you know where to find me.”

And with that, he ducks out of his tent to go prepare himself for battle. You watch him leave and then look up at the top of the tent, the ghost of his touch still haunting your skin. 

----------------------------------------------

Not a soul was speaking. Every soldier fell in line and marched silently, boots hit grass, armor clinked, horses walked along the dirt.

The legion had crossed over the Amvista by bridge about an hour ago. 

When your boots hit Erban soul, you thought that it would bring about a wave of complicated feelings, but truly you were only met with one: anger. Red, hot, burning anger.

You want to be nervous for this fight, so badly you want your mind to be reeling with every possible outcome, every way for you to fail; but the only thoughts you have are ones of battle induced rage. 

The army suddenly came to a halt at the top of a hill. At the bottom sat Fort Mire. From where you stood, you could not see if Erban soldiers were running around or if your presence was made aware of. Yet.

The sky was lighting up, the sun should be rising any second now.

Changbin sat on his horse in front of everyone. For a moment you could only see the back of his head as he watched Fort Mire for a long moment. He turned his horse around and stared out among the sea of his soldiers; men and women all ready and willing to give their lives at his command.

He squeezes his thighs and his horse slowly walks parallel with the front line. The commander continues to look out among all the faces.

When his eyes find yours, he hesitates for a split second. You nod your head as imperceptibly as you could, he does the same and looks away.

“Today marks Day One of the war that history will remember.” He says strongly over the sea of soldiers. His voice is even and confident. “On this day, you will raise your sword for the Elven lives that were cruelly taken from this world. No more will these sinful devils torture the innocent lives of our brothers and sisters.”

Changbin reaches down and unsheaths his sword and holds it up in the air. “Today we fight for the voices that were stolen! You will fight for each and every soul who was beaten down into the dirt! You fight for them!”

He holds his sword up in the air and every soldier around you issues a mighty battle cry. Some hit their swords against their shields, others stamped their feet in the dirt making the ground vibrate. 

“Today we take Fort Mire!”

Another scream.

“Archers ready!”

At this point, you’re able to spy a lot of movement happening down at the Fort. Soldiers were scrambling to wake up the ones that were sleeping. 

The front line of archers in front of Changbin take out their bows and knock their first arrows, each movement is almost synchronized.

Changbin turns his horse to face the Fort, his sword still held aloft in the air.

“Erbus will know the wrath of Miroh! On my mark!”

You pull your sword from your hip with other soldiers. Everyone starts shifting on their feet in anticipation. 

Loud yelling is echoing up from the Fort.

“Aim!” Changbin yells and each archer pulls their arrows back, bows aimed up at the sky.

You suck in a large breath, your body humming.

“Fire!”

[myaeomi-sims]

🎄must have christmas cc, mods & recipes! 🎀

showcase video 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

cas backgrounds

christmas morning cas background - cinnasims

bright & merry cas room - largetaytertots

accessories gingerbread man earrings ♡ ball + bow earrings ♡ christmas earrings - kittysims4 christmas earrings - softpine ♡ holiday hat

clothes christmas sweater ♡ wrap christmas sweater ♡ xmas morning pajamas mrs. claus dress & gloves ♡ katy dress & gloves ♡ joan coat

collections holiday glamour - joliebean x icfb ♡ sleigh all day - joliebean x icfb ♡ tis the season - joliebean december 2020 - sentate ♡ december 2022 - sentate ♡ christmas slippers - jius sims

misc apricot rush - christmas cat sweaters ♡ christmas dog sweaters goodchills studio - toddler giggles dress ♡ toddler marshmallow dress

build buy

christmas jellycats - bbygyal123 ♡ cozy christmas rugs - donut co.

christmas pet bed - gua ♡ gingerbread dollhouse - haggi ♡ holiday pack - max20

christmas cuties - kirikasims ♡ xmas fireplace - kkb

the merry collection - lijoue ♡ cute christmas living - simbishy

advent calendar 2024 - hydra ♡ dust bunny christmas collections

advent calendar 2023- syboulette ♡ xmas build - kkb ♡ winter welcome mats - dragonhoard

christmas lamp post - pixelvibes ♡ a very industrial lookin' christmas - littledica

mods

scrub tree sponge replacement - apricot rush

presents overhaul - apricot rush

holiday themed entry screens - plumbaleena (my fave's the gingerbread one!)

festive loading screen - apricot rush (forgot to show these 2 off ~(>_<。oops!)

recipes

icemunmun custom recipe

chocolate ganache tree stollen reindeer cake gingerbread cookies gingerbread house festive sugar cookie set milk & cookies peppermint bark plum pudding cheese & cracker tree melted snow pal cookies

grannies cookbook

winterfest lasagne yule log 2.0 snacks for father winter winterfest cupcakes (baking) sweet holiday bread gingerbread house gingerbread cake peppermint cupcakes

tiana’s cookbook

currant cake winterfest pudding

oni’s cookbook

santa cake white chocolate raspberry tart cranberry roast beef marshmallow hot chocolate macaron santa macaron rudolph gingerbread cupcake

[avengetheangels]

The (Family) Doctor's Appointment by smleeish (DC, Gen) Jason gets sick when he's dosed with a poisonous drug during a case and grudgingly goes to a walk-in clinic to see the doctor. Waiting for hours in the crowded clinic is torture with its bothersome occupants, and especially when the family catches wind of his ordeal and decide to try and convince him to let them take care of him.

A Winter's Tale by NorthernSparrow (Supernatural, Gen) Cas is sick and Dean finds a journal that Cas kept about his time alone as a human.

This fic is a retelling of first half of S9 from Cas's POV (via Cas's journal). Lots of Cas angst/loneliness and a correspondingly equal volume of Dean guilt. Sick fic, hurt/comfort, journal fic, and a Christmas fic too.

Tristeza by ViolentlyRed (My Hero Academia, Gen) "Through the lenses of three AM, Bakugou looks a lot smaller in the streetlight of a hospital parking lot."

Or, Aizawa comes to a few conclusions in the span and the aftermath of one long, stressful night.

(Bakugou is hurt and sick and Aizawa is robbed of his sleep and his sanity, yet again)

And Rebuked the Fever by ratherastory (Leverage, Gen) As it is, he could have wished for another six hours' respite, maybe twelve, but it's not like he has a say in the matter: these episodes always come at him like a goddamn tsunami, and all he can really do is put his head down and ride it out. Or, Eliot is sick and the team takes care of him.

Before I Stumble Homeward by lacking (The Hobbit, Thorin/Bilbo) In which Thorin is left slightly more injured after his confrontation with Azog. The fever sets in, the journey continues on, and a bond is formed.

you're on my mind (more than you know) by veterization (Teen Wolf, Stiles/Peter) Stiles is sick with a cold. Peter sticks around.

The Place That Is Ours by Hyena_Poison (The Walking Dead, Gen) Daryl wears himself out trying to show the group just how useful he is. If he doesn't, he fears the group will get rid of him.

bundle by PenAndInkPrincess (The Witcher, Jaskier/Geralt) There is one element of his time at Kaer Morhen that remains a problem, however: his room is fucking freezing.

Jaskier sets his teeth and wraps his arms tighter around himself, curling inwards as if that’ll provide him with more warmth. He’s already beneath every layer he’s been able to gather, wrapped into a ball of sheets and blankets and furs. He’s even pulled on two pairs of thick wool socks borrowed from Kaer Morhen’s stores, but he can still feel the tingle of chill in his toes. He tries to think of warm things: hot toddies, mulled wine, summer sunshine, sharing beds with-

He cuts himself off.

(Jaskier is settling into Kaer Morhen, but he has a persistent problem: he's freezing in his room at night. unfortunately, he's also terrified of fire)

Bruise Easily, Bad in the Blood by siriuspiggyback (The Umbrella Academy, Gen) His chest aches with the force of his heart beating, and he gasps for air like a drowning man. At Ben's urging, barely audible over the ringing of his ears, he sits and puts his head between his knees. He feels like he might be floating, or rocking; the sensation is unsettling close to being blackout drunk.

After a long minute, he falls back down to earth.

Ben admits, "I don't think that was a panic attack."

"Told you so," Klaus whines weakly, too exhausted for true smugness.

A Beautiful Antibiosis by Holo (Nelioe) (Jujutsu Kaisen, Gojo/Getou) antibiosis (noun)

an association between two organisms that is harmful to one of them.

During a negligent moment Satoru is infected with a parasitic curse without his knowledge. The curse, weak in the beginning, begins to feed on his cursed energy, weakening Gojo’s constitution day by day. There it lies, in waiting, until it becomes powerful enough to leave its host and devour everything in its proximity.

Let the morning chase my ghosts away by Whistler_Ren (One Piece, Gen) Sunny? Sanji racked his brain, searching desperately for something to connect with that name. Slowly, through the haze, he caught glimpses of grass, a homey kitchen and tangerine trees. He could picture sails and a grinning flag with a straw hat. Could hear the trill of a violin, bubbling laughter and swords being sharpened and polished. Could smell sweet perfume, meat and ocean. A ship. Sunny.

“Home…” he whispered.

---

When Sanji contracts a dangerous illness, memories of past trauma are brought closer to the surface than he ever wished for. Thankfully, his crew has no plans of letting him weather the storm alone.

previous rec posts

[einloukrativesangebot]

March 2024 Destiel Fic Recs

My favourite fics written in March 2024. Please leave kudos and comments for the authors.

Baker Six by komodobits

Summer, 1944. Dean doesn’t think about First Lieutenant Novak.

Feel It All Around by egravis

With Cas newly fallen, a lot of things have changed. Like, for one, Cas has never appeared so fragile before.

I hate you when Sam sees it (and love you when he doesn't) feat Bobby Singer by FreyaBlackthorn

Dean and Cas love each other in the dark. They hate each other in front of a freshly soul-supplied Sam. It's that easy.

Except it's not easy, because Sam may be a Winchester, but even his stupidness knows bounds. So how can you make your little brother believe you are totally not interested in your feathered best friend (who is totally your boyfriend, for the record)?

Bobby makes a guest appearance because he's the best, and because he cannot be fooled.

Never Let Me Go by K_A_Mindin

Found the place to rest my head

Personal Jesus by GreenEnthusiast

Dean has made a nasty habit of calling out to Castiel in the dead of night, when he’s all alone. Repressed feelings and a case of beer are quite the duo, one the Winchester is no stranger to. All he wants is to love and be loved, but he’s not sure if he knows how.

The Space Between The Trees by birdyedwards

The point was that Cas fell out of that barn and right into Dean’s life like he’d always belonged there. Like there was a Castiel-shaped spot missing somewhere and he’d slotted right into it. Over the past several months, the two of them haven’t been apart for more than a couple hours and Dean wonders how he ever went on without him. How it was even possible that Cas hadn’t been there the entire time.

- + -

The thing no one tells you about hunting is that it’s surprisingly boring. Having Cas around helps.

touch and go by stayawake

Cas comes equipped with enough angelic strength to fling demons against the wall with a flick of his wrist, but still lets himself get pushed and pulled around by Dean like it's nothing.

a happy ending in the palm of your hands by all_american_hips

It has been three months since the world was saved.

-------

Everything is finally in its place, and Dean tries to get his shit together.

An angel walks into a flower shop... by FreyaBlackthorn

This is literally a pinterest post turned into a silly fic. What would happen if an almighty angel walked into a flower shop to buy his serial killer of a boyfriend flowers? (feat Sam, because let's be honest, he would probably be there and be a little gremlin about it).

love in messages by DeanIsABottomDamnit

The relationship between cas and dean seen through texts, through the years

inhuman/human by Xxcxreyxx

Stuck in Purgatory, Castiel has time to think.

devastating, apocalyptic, & utterly catastrophic by aalienbluezz

And that was it. Cas was done. So done. Why on Earth would he read this ridiculously inaccurate folklore when he could just look at Dean’s adorable face. And eyes. And his pretty, pretty mouth. Cas was about two minutes in to remapping out each atom of Dean’s devastating cupid’s bow when Dean finally piped up with that same strange look and a self-conscious laugh: “Uh, I got crumbs on my mouth or somethin’?”

or,

Cas introduces Dean to the wonders of Chapstick.

the gone fishin' fic by the_oncoming_stormageddon

Dean and Cas have been dating for three months, but Dean isn’t sure that he’s ready to come out yet. Meanwhile, Bobby’s known they’ve been dating for six months.

A Tough Nut To Crack by ImYourHoneyBee

The cold is worse, bad enough that their comfortable moss insulation and leaf doorway don’t keep it out, and despite his thick winter coat, Dean is freezing. On the other side of the nest, Cas is curled into a tight ball, his tail flipped over his nose like a blanket. Dean wonders if he’s cold too.

It’s dark inside their nest, almost pitch black with how the maple leaves block out the starlight. Cas is nothing but a lump, but Dean bets that if they were lumps together, they’d be warmer. It’s not gay if they’re huddling for warmth, right? It should also be taken into account that they’re squirrels, and he’s pretty sure it’s not gay if they’re squirrels, either.

Dean is suffering because he’d insisted that they be two squirrels sleeping on opposite sides of the nest, five inches apart because they’re not gay.

Morning After by lizleenimbus

Dean wakes up after a one-night stand only to find something - or rather someone - he didn't expect.

It's the first month of @deancaspinefest posting, so check those fics out here if you want some long fics of Dean and Cas pining for each other. And please do read my fic "Not our kind of thing" here.

Check out the other posts:

January, February

[saywhatjessie]

Strike Up The Band

Back at it again with an Advent Calendar! Just writing for whatever fandom or pairing feels right at the moment. Using this list by @raven-cincaide-words Day 1: First Snow | Newcomer | Forced Friendliness  Fandom: Supernatural - Pairing: DeanCas 1.1k[Ao3]

Dean could barely see the field through the cloud of his breath. “Cas, I’m freezing my tits off out here.”

Cas hummed, bringing his arm around Dean’s waist. “They’re on next and then we can go sit in the car.”

“That’ll be like another half hour,” Dean whined, turning his body closer into Cas’s. “I can feel the bleacher in my asshole.”

“I told you to bring your seat cushion.”

“I’m not fucking geriatric!”

“No, you’re cold.”

Dean grumbled, burying his hands in the bottom of Cas’s jacket. Cas didn’t even flinch.

It was starting to snow. The first of the year so it probably wouldn’t stick but it was still an unpleasant new obstacle to the day. Not only were they cold, they were about to be wet and cold.

“At least the season is almost over,” Cas reassured him. “And if they make championships, I think it’s in Florida.”

“Ugh, but Florida sucks. I hate driving in Florida.”

“But it’s warm.”

Dean grumbled again, his thigh pressed all the way up Cas’s. Cas laid his head on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean knew Jack wasn’t gonna be an athlete. That’s okay – Dean hadn’t been an athlete in high school either. Dean wasn’t gonna be able to help him throw a ball or shoot a hoop or whatever. He was expecting Jack to do a bunch of nerd shit: build robots for science club or a math decathlon or some shit. He was ready to help with those.

But Jack joined fucking marching band. So Dean had to go to competitions for entire weekends and freeze his ass off on the bleachers only to see his kid perform for fifteen minutes.

“Have you talked to him about indoor?” Cas asked.

Dean groaned. “There’s more?”

Cas hummed. “Another winter season. It goes until May. But they only have percussion and colorguard.”

“Jack plays the trombone,” Dean pointed out.

“He was thinking he might want to do colorguard.”

Dean laughed. “With that kid’s coordination? Is he serious?”

Cas smiled, opening his mouth to respond, when they were interrupted by another parent carrying a truly insane amount of blankets..

“Hi!” The mother said, brightly. “You’re here with Rock Hills, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said, looking between her and her and the field. The band was still setting up.

“Oh, fabulous!” She said, taking the section of bench next to Cas. She put some blankets under her to sit on, hiked another over her shoulders, and wrapped yet another one around her legs. “I have been finding it so hard to get good watch buddies. My son just transferred!”

“Oh, nice,” Dean said, smiling for her. “What’s he play?”

“Oh, trumpet, of course!” She waved a hand like that was a given. “My boy always needs to be the star.”

“I don’t see how a trumpet is inherently more star-like than any other instrument,” Cas said, frowning.

“Oh, you both must be new to this!” The woman said, smiling in a condescendingly sympathetic way. “I was in band in my time. Everyone knows that if a marching band were like The Rolling Stones, the trumpets would be Mick Jagger.”

“So you were a trumpet?” Dean asked.

“Oh, heavens no! Far too masculine, can you imagine? No, I was a flute. Obviously.”

“So… Brian Jones?” Dean asked. Cas chuckled which made Dean grin brighter.

“Who? No, listen, the flutes are clearly the star of the woodwinds. Which are inherently more delicate and feminine.”

“These sound like very convoluted gender politics,” Cas said. Dean didn’t disagree, but he still elbowed Cas a bit. They still had to sit outside for twenty minutes with this woman.

“Oh, you’re just silly men,” she said, waving them off with a laugh. “Probably played sports in high school. I suppose I can’t expect you to understand.”

“Right,” Dean said, turning back to the field. He was so grateful it was rude to speak during a performance so he could ignore this woman for the next ten minutes.

Except even after the drum major gave their salute, this woman kept trying to engage them. Sure, this band wasn’t their band, but she could have still shown some respect. Dean kept shooting her polite smiles hoping she’d take the hint and shut the fuck up but she never did. She just kept prattling through the whole program.

After the drum major gave her parting salute and Dean and Cas had finished clapping, Cas turned to the woman. “That was extremely rude.”

She sputtered, clearly indignant.

“For someone who claims to be so familiar with the culture surrounding marching band, your lack of awareness surrounding the expected  etiquette during competition performances is frankly upsetting. I’m sure I’ll meet your son as he’s a part of the brass section, along with our son, but I’m not sure I’ll welcome you to watch with us again. It’s no wonder you haven’t found anyone to sit with if you’re this intolerable of company.”

“Cas,” Dean warned. He winced an apology at the woman. She wasn’t even looking at him, her jaw dropped.

“‘Our’ son? Like both of yours? You’re gay?”

Dean forced a laugh. “I mean where else do you expect to find friends of Dorothy than in Kansas, right?”

“Well, then I guess it’s good I’m such intolerable company to you, because I have found that you’re equally intolerable to me,” she said, grabbing her purse and an armful of blankets. “Now if you excuse me.”

“Wait, are we intolerable because Cas yelled at you or the queer thing.Lady, was it Cas or the queer thing?!”

She didn’t answer him even as he called after her so he just shrugged and turned back to Cas.

Cas held up one of her blankets. Dean wasn’t sure if she dropped it or if he snagged it from her, but he was delighted either way.

“Oh, nice!” he said, taking the blanket and wrapping it around both of their shoulders. He kissed Cas on the nose. “You gotta stop scaring the other parents away, sweetheart.”

Cas rolled his eyes, snaking his hand across his lap to join Dean’s. “She was insipid and shallow. She didn’t even get your Rolling Stones joke.”

“I know! He was the sax player! That’s a woodwind! That was the perfect joke.”

“And you know the saxophone is a woodwind,” Cas complimented, leaning into him. “You’re learning.”

Dean winked, tapping his temple. “Not just a hat rack.”

Cas laughed and the announcer introduced Jack’s school and Dean and Cas lost the next fifteen minutes to hooting and hollering and being generally embarrassing as was their god given right as gay fathers.

And if they snuggled in the impala, heaters on full blast, all the way until awards that evening, than that was between Dean and his babies.

[racout]

The Triangle of the Burle

Note: I'm an English learner and I wrote this text to practise my written English. If you want to give me feedback about my English, please go ahead!

The Triangle de la Burle, in English, the Triangle of the Burle, is an area located in France, on the East of the Massif Central, between Ardèche, Loire and Haute-Loire. It is known for its supposedly abnormal amount of airplane crashes. Its name comes from French journalist Jean Peyrard who published a book about the Triangle entitled “Le Triangle de la Burle  - Bermudes en Cévenne” [The Triangle of the Burle - Bermuda in the Cévennes]. As you can see, this name is a reference to the Bermuda Triangle. As for the Burle, it is the name of a north wind that blows in the region during winter.

According to some, since the 1940s there has been a high amount of plane accidents in this area. Some witnesses say they have seen UFOs such as balls of light in the air.

The first accident happened on November 3 1943. A Hallifax from the Royal Air Force crashed during the night near the village of Marcols-les-Eaux. Seven of the eight soldiers on board died. There was a storm on that night, which probably caused the accident. However, some people said that they had seen luminous objects around the plane.

The Triangle of the Burle became known internationally when a Skyways plane crashed in the region on May 13 1948. There were three crew members and four passengers. One of the passengers was Kathleen Kennedy, JFK’s sister.

There are also cases of plane crashes where, when the rescuers go to the area where the accident happened, they find nothing, and no plane is declared lost. It is called a crash de rien, a nothing crash.

There are all kinds of theories to explain those accidents. As said earlier, bad weather is one of them. This area is one of the regions with the largest number of volcanic pipes in the world. Those pipes are said to canalise an energy that can disturb planes’ devices. There is a large amount of quartz as well, which can have an influence too. Some think the cause of these events comes from the sky, as some objects were observed in the air. Magnetic perturbations were also suggested as a possibility, as it could disturb navigation devices. It might come from electromagnetic clouds or from the volcanic ground.

The existence of the triangle has been questioned by the association Ardéchois à Paris in an article published on their website. They argue that most of the accidents associated with the triangle happened outside the area. The main cause, according to them, is the weather. The Cévennes are known for facing strong rains and violent storms. There are also periods of fog, which is especially dangerous in the mountains. The association also states that many of these accidents happened because of human mistakes. 

Sources below

Association de l'Amicale des Ardéchois à Paris. “Le triangle de la Burle” Ardéchois à Paris [online]. Paris. [Visited on 26/02/2025]

URL

Ca commence aujourd’hui. Le triangle de la Burle : le triangle des Bermudes français - Ça commence aujourd'hui, on Youtube [online]. 15 Jan. 2025.

URL

Ouest France. “Le Triangle de la Burle, le Bermudes des  Cévennes qui détient le record de crashs” Ouest France [online]. Rennes. 04/11/2019. [Visited on 25/02/2025]

URL

Wikimedia Foundation. Burle (vent). Wikipédia [online]. 2001. [Visited on 25/02/2025]

URL

[batking-lich]

it's liveblog poll time. still have some books to finish but i wanna get a poll up.

let's take a little romance detour, shall we?

book details under the cut as usual

The Darkest Night by Gena Showalter

His powers—Inhuman... His passion—Beyond immortal... All her life, Ashlyn Darrow has been tormented by voices from the past. To end the nightmare, she has come to Budapest seeking help from men rumored to have supernatural abilities, not knowing she'll be swept into the arms of Maddox, their most dangerous member—a man trapped in a hell of his own. Neither can resist the instant hunger that calms their torments... and ignites an irresistible passion. But every heated touch and burning kiss will edge them closer to destruction—and a soul-shattering test of love... Though they carry an eternal curse, the Lords of the Underworld are irresistibly seductive—and unimaginably powerful... Don’t miss this incredible new paranormal series from Gena Showalter!

Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett

A curmudgeonly professor journeys to a small town in the far north to study faerie folklore and discovers dark fae magic, friendship, and love in the start of a heartwarming and enchanting new fantasy series. Cambridge professor Emily Wilde is good at many things: She is the foremost expert on the study of faeries. She is a genius scholar and a meticulous researcher who is writing the world's first encyclopaedia of faerie lore. But Emily Wilde is not good at people. She could never make small talk at a party--or even get invited to one. And she prefers the company of her books, her dog, and the Fair Folk. So when she arrives in the hardscrabble village of Hrafnsvik, Emily has no intention of befriending the gruff townsfolk. Nor does she care to spend time with another new arrival: her dashing and insufferably handsome academic rival Wendell Bambleby, who manages to charm the townsfolk, get in the middle of Emily's research, and utterly confound and frustrate her. But as Emily gets closer and closer to uncovering the secrets of the Hidden Ones--the most elusive of all faeries--lurking in the shadowy forest outside the town, she also finds herself on the trail of another mystery: Who is Wendell Bambleby, and what does he really want? To find the answer, she'll have to unlock the greatest mystery of all--her own heart.

Enchanted to Meet You by Meg Cabot

A witchy rom-com from New York Times  bestseller Meg Cabot about a plus size witch who must team up with a handsome stranger to help protect her village from an otherworldly force—but will she be able to protect her heart? It’s Magic When You Meet Your Match In her teenage years, lovelorn Jessica Gold cast a spell that went disastrously wrong, and brought her all the wrong kind of attention—as well as a lifetime ban from the World Council of Witches. So no one is more surprised than Jess when, fifteen years later, tall, handsome WCW member Derrick Winters shows up in her quaint little village of West Harbor and claims that Jess is the Chosen One. She’s the Chosen One Not chosen by West Harbor’s snobby elite to style them for the town’s tricentennial ball—though Jess owns the chicest clothing boutique in town. And not chosen finally to be on the WCW, either—not that Jess would have said yes, anyway, since she’s done with any organization that tries to dictate what makes a “true” witch. No, Jess has been chosen to help save West Harbor itself... As Summer Ends, Her Power Grows But just when Jess is beginning to think that she and Derrick might have a certain magic of their own—and not of the supernatural variety—Jess learns he may not be who she thought he was. And suddenly Jess finds herself having to trust Derrick and work with him to combat the sinister force battling to bring down West Harbor, or use her gift as she always to keep herself, and her heart, safe. Can she work her magic in time?

Prince of Twilight by Maggie Shayne

Far older than his legend, the immortal Vlad Dracul has wandered the earth for centuries in search of the reincarnation of his wife, Elisabeta. Now he believes he has found the woman possessed by his beloved's soul and is prepared to make her his for all eternity. Tempest "Stormy" Jones is that mortal. She has long sensed the other, someone inside her fighting to take control, a feeling that becomes even stronger when the dark prince is near. But as Stormy denies the passion that burns between them, she also resists allowing Elisabeta to take over her mind and body to prevent her from claiming Vlad as her own. But when Elisabeta discovers Vlad's feelings for Stormy, her wrath knows no bounds. She demands that her destiny be fulfilled, and seeks to destroy her rival, leaving Vlad in anguish, tormented by what was…and what could be. Now only he can choose—who will live and who will die.

Pumpkin Spice by Tagan Shepard

Nicki Russell has never been smooth. More like a bumbling, awkward mess always falling short of her dreams. Good college? She never had the money. Post-grad? She’ll get around to it someday. Happy ever after with the perfect woman? One major heartbreak is enough to have her swearing off love forever. Current life plan? Avoid all unnecessary human contact. That goes double for Carter, the hot new butch in town. Unfortunately, Carter works at the town’s pick-your-own pumpkin patch and Nicki’s niece is obsessed with Halloween. So obsessed she ropes her favorite aunt into organizing the school Halloween festival, hosted by Carter Farms. Volunteer weekends are scary enough, but Carter seems to be everywhere Nicki goes, and it’s just a matter of time before she discovers Nicki’s more likely to trip over a chair than successfully flirt. But Carter can’t seem to get enough of her company, and as their accidental encounters slowly simmer into romance, Nicki begins to believe she’s not a complete disaster after all. The date of the festival is fast approaching, and this pumpkin spice season is turning out sweeter than expected.